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velvetchrry · 24 days

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grim reaper!simon “ghost” riley x f!reader

He wasn’t quite sure why but he didn’t want to take your soul.

Fragile little thing, still clinging to life. Sickly. Withering. But you had a fire inside of you, he could feel it. Burning brightly enough that it might even char him.

He wondered the last time your bare feet had touched the grass. The last time you filled your lungs with summer air. The last time you left this tiny little prison keeping your mortal body alive with tubes and drains.

You smile at him. It sends a chill down his spine — something he hadn’t felt since the before. Before he was this. Before he was death. When he was still a man. He can barely remember his old name anymore. Why are you smiling at him?

“I’ve been expecting you.”

Your voice was a melody. Expecting him? You couldn’t be.

“Do I have a few minutes or is it time now?”

He’s taken thousands of souls. More than he can count. Ferried them to the afterlife. Nothing but a blip on his radar, long forgotten. The ones that were still conscious enough to see him begged to live. Begged to be spared. But never this. Never waiting for him.

“Would you like a few minutes?” The words coming out of his mouth surprise even him. He hasn’t heard the sound of his voice in a long while. Hasn’t had the need to speak. It startles even him — a distortion of his human voice.

“I would… I would like to say goodbye to my mom.” He wants to wipe away the tear trickling down your face. He wants to tell you it’s going to be okay.

He nods and hovers to the corner of the room. You don’t seem to mind that he’s waiting there while you call in your mother. She doesn't accept what you have to tell her. It’s not your time, how could it be? You’re young, you have so much life left to live. You’re going to live, she won’t hear anymore of it otherwise. You say okay, another tear falls. You ask her to go get you something to eat.

When she leaves, you look back over to him. A shaky breath releases from your chest. You quickly wipe the backs of your delicate fingertips on your waterline.

“I’m ready.”

But he’s not. Oh no. He’s not.

He doesn’t want to take your soul. Doesn’t want it to incinerate that last little piece of him that’s still human. The piece that wriggles its way up to the surface every so often. He knows if he helps your soul to the afterlife, he’ll never remember his name again. Never remember the touch of a woman’s skin, the feeling of a hot breath against him. Never feel the ache in his chest where his heart used to be. The phantom pain that reminds him who he was. Simon.

He’s at your bedside before you can even blink. You’re not phased, not one bit. He sits, and reaches to take your tiny hand in his. You furrow your brow gently but give it to him.

He sees a flash of the man he was again. The black robe slips down his arm. A sliver of skin reveals his tattoos back at him, tattoos he hasn’t thought about in decades. You study him in silence while he does the same.

Why does your soul sing to him? Why does it remind him of the things he’s forgotten? Why you? Why not the other thousands upon thousands of souls?

“Will it hurt?” your tiny voice squeaks out.

They don’t deserve you — the gods that rule the afterlife. They’ll waste you, they won’t cherish you like he would. Like he could. You deserve so much more, delicate flower that you are.

“No, darling girl, it is as easy as dreaming.”

They have millions of souls. Billions. Surely they won’t miss yours. He can steal one soul for his own. It’s just one. One soul. The most precious soul he’s come across.

You close your eyes and let out a slow breath, waiting for the end to reach you. Death’s sure kiss.

He leans in slow, like he’s approaching a scared animal. Your eyes don't open. No — you trust him.

His lips meet your pillowy soft ones. He almost forgets how to do it, but your lips remind him. They help him. You kiss him.

He feels your soul like a lump in his throat. His large hand — the one not holding your wrist — wraps around your neck. It burns him, this kiss. He knew it would. Sizzles the very bones in his body.

An electrifying feeling takes hold of the both of you. Your skin is covered in goose flesh (his would be too, if it still could be). Your nipples harden, a wetness trails down your panties. You don’t break from him or his kiss. He wonders if it burns you a little too.

When the lump in his throat settles he finally feels it. He’s whole. For the first time in… maybe ever. He’s done it. He’s really done it. He breaks away from you.

Color has returned to your cheeks, the blood rushing beneath your skin. Already you look better than you did before he entered the room.

You don't understand it, he knows you don’t. Someday he’ll explain. Someday. But not yet.

The gods of the afterlife will never find you, and if they do, they’ll never have you. You’re his now. He’s done it.

He’s melded your souls together.

#call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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roseykat · 5 months

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TITLE: Brown Eyes Don’t Pry

PAIRING: Changbin x f!reader

SUMMARY: Changbin comes home from the gym, only to find you getting yourself off with your door wide open - a delicious opportunity for him not to pass up. To watch the way you make yourself cum when you think nobody else is around.

TAGS: perv!Changbin, female masturbation, orgasms, voyeurism, reader is watching porn, hints of humiliation, (this is slightly short but it’s been on my mind).

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

MASTERLIST

Changbin’s body is killing him.

Muscles aching, quads sore, calves sore. The only saving grace to relieve some of it was to ensure he was properly stretching and had a thorough cooldown. He followed that up with a hot shower at the gym and getting into some fresh clean clothes before jumping in his car and heading back home.

The drive would’ve been a lot more miserable had he not taken the necessary steps to feel comfortable after a tough session. However, Changbin is always in for the nitty gritty training that he puts himself through. Despite how nagging or painful it can be prior and post, the progress will always keep him going.

In light of that, he always needs to take care of his body in between sessions too. For that reason, when Changbin arrives home and heads inside, he collapses onto the couch. Sleep threatens to pull him under if he doesn’t get back up to make himself some breakfast. That's equally important too, to which his grumbling stomach agrees.

At that minute, Changbin hoists his tired body off of the couch, about to head into the kitchen to cook up something nutritious when something catches the attention of his ears. From downstairs, he couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was a TV playing or voices. Felix was at work, he knew that much since he saw him leave this morning. Plus, his car isn’t parked in the driveway.

You on the other hand were supposed to be out with friends until lunch, and as Changbin peers down at the screen of his phone, it was clearly nowhere near lunch. He’s only about to have some breakfast. However, the ongoing noises from upstairs makes him curious to see what’s going on.

There’s no way an intruder broke in. Changbin couldn’t hear any clamour of items or hurried, shuffling footsteps across the floor. It only sounded like a voice.

That’s when it becomes a bit more distinct as he begins his ascent upstairs while his fine-tuned ears recognises the distress behind the person’s voice. How anguished they sounded. But then he sees it as he makes it up to the top of the stairs, through the crack of the door to your room.

“Ah, y-yes, fuck. God, wanna cum so bad...”

Changbin's entire body freezes on the spot. Suddenly, his legs can’t move. They don’t want to move. Not from the sheer shock of seeing you half-naked from the back, grinding your pussy over the rounded corner of the desk in your room keeps him from moving. Only his jaw manages to unhinge itself a bit as he watches you rub yourself until you feel good.

You must’ve been like that for quite some time as Changbin noticed the creamy glaze in between your folds, some of which had made an appearance on your desk. It helped glide you over the surface of the desk more easily, so much so that you needed to grab the edge with one hand while trying to hold your phone in the other.

If Changbin hadn't seen what you were holding, he still would’ve guessed correctly that you were watching porn. From the erotic sounds alone, it was relatively easy to depict.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat that had been growing as fast as the tent in his pants. He doesn't want to move, remaining in place as he listens to your tortured and forced whimpers. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever think of being in a situation like this.

Whilst you both are friends - roommates at the very most, he has never seen you in this type of light. So vulnerable. So fuckable, even.

Watching you lose your mind over trying to rub your pussy the right way, over and over again. The state of desperation you're in causes his cock to start filling out. He takes in the fact that your legs start to shake as you draw near to a long-awaited orgasm.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck, please!” You call out to nobody, almost making Changbin chuckle.

As the pace of your hips picks up, so does your breathing. The stimulating feeling is all too good as it bursts vibrantly at the seams for release to trickle throughout all the best parts of your body. The porn playing before your eyes of a woman getting railed until she starts shaking, makes you wish that you had a dildo or something to fuck yourself with.

Something - anything that would allow you to clench and cream around until you start seeing stars.

Sick of your hands having to do the job, you had to resort to other methods. There are no detachable shower heads in the apartment, nothing malleable yet sturdy enough to insert - either they were too big or too small, or, too dangerous.

When you were trying to figure out what to use, the thought of Changbin’s massage gun crossed your mind. But, you’re not sure if you would go that far especially knowing that he always keeps that thing near him whenever his muscles start playing up. Not to mention, he probably wouldn’t appreciate you using it as a sex toy.

However, none of it mattered at the moment. Not when you’re gasping for air, moaning as if there isn’t another soul in the house. Not to your knowledge at least as Changbin watches your muscles writhe when you push yourself over the edge. The pleasure buildup makes it so intense that you can barely continue to grind on the desk.

“Y-Yes! Mm, c-cumming,” you throw your head back, phone clamouring out of your hand as you go to grip the other side of the desk now to keep the momentum up.

You want to milk every last bit of your orgasm until the very last drop of pleasure leaves your body. As gasps heave out of your mouth, all you are left with are the remnants of a strong orgasm and the tremoring aftershocks that come with it.

As you slowly bring yourself down, you barely hear the creak of the door over the thumping of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The uncanny presence of another was too hard not to miss, causing you to zap right around to find Changbin staring right back at you.

He stands underneath the doorframe with a blank expression.

There are no words that come to mind. Each mental faculty you possess scrambles to search for some decent explanation to justify what you’ve done - and in front of him no less.

“I think you ought to keep the door closed next time you want to get yourself off,” says Changbin cooly. “And…maybe wear some headphones if you’re going to watch porn too.”

“I-I didn’t - I wasn’t-”

Changbin fake pouts, throwing on a synthetic look of sympathy as he steps over the threshold of your room, “really? You’re going to lie after I just finished watching you make yourself cum all over your desk?”

Your eyes widen, an icy feeling washing over you before you notice the bulge in his pants, “you saw…”

“Saw, heard, witnessed - you name it Y/N,” Changbin lists. “Plus it wasn’t that hard when you had the door nearly half open. I suppose you were hoping one of us was just going to slide right in behind you, huh? Maybe waiting for Felix to come home early, see you bent over and wet just for him to fuck you.”

“That’s not - that’s not what it looks like,” you try to explain. “I was just…I needed to…I had nobody to…”

“To fuck you,” Changbin finishes off your sentence perfectly.

Exactly that. The whole point of getting yourself off was because you aren't getting fucked. What can you do when you're horny and have nobody to dick you down when you need it? Who's going to finger fuck you so that you don't have to do it yourself? Changbin doesn't even need to see through you to find that out after watching you.

He can see your insides angrily shredding yourself up with embarrassment. The fact that he just caught you red handed, drawing out a furious blush over your cheeks. Not only was it the humiliation that evoked such a reaction, but it was also Changbin’s words.

Some far away part in the back of your brain actually hoped that someone would come up behind you and ‘slide right in.’ To start fucking you unprovoked. You were clearly ready for it and desperate enough, but the main thing is, you wanted it too. To you, it almost sounded like Changbin could have.

“All you had to do was open your mouth,” he says and reaches down to gently grab your jaw to turn your head from side to side. “Then again, I’m sure it has its other uses.”

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut

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itsabouttimex2 · 7 months

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Hello there! could we see a prequel of when platonic yandere Erasermic first saw Cloud quirk reader! I feel like the reader wouldn't exactily look like oboro, but then seeing that quirk and having that energetic personality would send the memories of oboro back into there mind

These two mourn Oboro to this day. It’s a major part of both of their characters, woven into their beings. They won’t move on. They can’t forget. So when they see you, something kind of cracks inside them.

Aizawa pauses, and just… stares. His chest tightens painfully, as a deluge of long-buried memories gnaw at his mind. It’s easy to that he’d be the strong one, the stoic one. But he isn’t. He’s a broken man long burdened by grief. It’s clear he hasn’t managed to move on from losing Oboro in the slightest.

However, Hizashi was able to healthily move on to some degree and become a teacher, a DJ, a radio host, a hero. Sure, it’s possible that he uses his exuberance to cope with grief or to draw Aizawa out of his worst moments, but he stills manages to be sunny and bright. All the same, he possesses a well-hidden ruthlessness and an extremely powerful Quirk that he’s not afraid to use. The moment he stops smiling, it’s probably time to run and hide, because something is terribly wrong.

And when he sees you, he stops smiling. There’s a moment where his larger than life personality and cheery disposition both slip, leaving him in a rare state of shocked silence. Hizashi just stands and watches, eyes going wide behind his concealing sunglasses. His gangly arms drop to his sides, his every bit of attention focused on staring you down.

Maybe it’s some kind of cruel joke. Maybe he’s been hit by a Quirk, creating a tailored distraction to keep him from noticing an approaching foe. Maybe he’s just seeing things. But no, he isn’t. You’re real, with his personality and Quirk.

———————————————————————

“Oboro…,” Aizawa mumbles to himself, caught in a similar state to his loudmouth friend. His bloodshot eyes catch on your smile, watching as you chat with a friend. The two of you walk side by side, trails of vapor and fog drifting from your fingertips as you show off your Quirk. Your friend laughs in amazement, watching in awe as the clouds shift into different shapes and figures, bending perfectly to your will.

Once, Oboro had done the same for him. Whenever Aizawa seemed down, he’d whip up a cloud and shape it into the cutest kitten he could manage, often ending up with a horrifically disfigured mess that had his friend stifling a smile.

Words catch in his throat. He can barely think straight. It feels like he can’t even stand.

He stumbles through the halls, making the short trip to his classroom, still empty. He snatches his phone from his pocket, fumbling with it until he has his loud-mouthed on the other end.

“You saw them. I know you did. Why didn’t you… why didn’t you warn me?”

A loud sigh from the other end. “Sorry, Sho. The kid’s in class 1-B, so I figured I’d get the chance to tell you in person. Didn’t think you’d run into them so soon.”

He desperately racks his brain for something to say, some way to respond. Hizashi beats him to it.

“Actually, Nemuri learned before me, and didn’t say a word either. I think she’s a little broken up too, honestly. Least we’re not alone, right?”

At least they’re not alone. Aizawa would agree, but can’t manage to swallow the lump in his throat. He just holds the phone to his ear, wondering if it was a blessing or curse that you didn’t get put in his class.

“They seem like a good kid, Sho. I’m gonna keep an eye out for them.”

“So they don’t end up like Oboro” is the unspoken second half of that last sentence. Voicing it out loud makes it a legitimate fear. Leaving it vague means the image stays vague, the fear stays vague. Just an uncanny feeling of potential danger, rather than outright fear for a child’s mortality.

“You know what, Mic? I think I’ll keep an eye out for the kid too.”

Because he can’t bring himself to relive that scene ever again a child shouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt at UA.

So they’ll look out for you. Nothing strange about it. Nothing serious, no cause for alarm.

Not yet.

#Platonic Yandere #yandere mha #yandere erasermic #yandere shota aizawa #shota aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada

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otomes-world · 28 days

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"Under fantasy disguise" part Pomefiore (1)

Fantasy AU “Under fantasy disguise”: world lore (prologue) heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia trigger warning: some self hate, reader in really bad state (but there is nothing grafic), barrely edited text.

At some point, the clouds flying past completely erased the idea of time and space. Slowly brightening sky marked the beginning of a new day. The lump in throat, the approaching nausea and self-loathing merged into one large layer, settling like a burden in your chest. A heaviness that radiates unpleasantly throughout the whole body.

You wanted to pry open chest if only it could give at least a little peace of mind.

However, the much-desired peace would not come. The subconscious told you, or maybe you yourself understood that you couldn’t let go of the situation. Frankly, what happened - all at once - was not your fault. It wasn’t, but selfishness and the banal desire to survive stuck needles into such a subjective concept of conscience, which you didn’t even suspect. When you live in a world of technology - when you don't have to make tough decisions - the world seems simpler.

You didn’t know where the carpet was going. Perhaps it was simply obeying your unspoken impulse to get away. Anywhere. To a place where it will be at least a little easier.

However, during the time you spent in this world, you managed to come to terms with the thought: it won’t get better. The further you plunged into unfamiliar lands and got to know its inhabitants, the harder the blow to your mental health. At some point you thought that the happiest time of your forced journey was wandering in the mountains.

Taking a shuddering breath, you froze abruptly, noticing movement out of the corner of your eye. Something flew past at incredible speed. Glancing briefly at the sleeping cat, you clenched your fists, your nails - or what was left of them - digging into the skin of your palms. The pain helped calm down a little and focus on my surroundings. A moment and something flew by again, this time very close.

It didn't seem to you.

Waking Grimm up with your left hand, you tried to look down. The carpet did not slow down, and therefore it was difficult to try to see anything. The barely brightening sky did not help at all. Suddenly the fabric shook and you felt something cold millimeters from your other hand. Imagining the worst, you looked down, noticing the thin scratch on your skin and the arrow.

Everything inside you suddenly stopped.

Heart began to beat sharply, making already labored breathing difficult. The mind tried to come up with a solution, an escape, something, but apparently the third arrow was the last warning. The last one before something incomprehensible collided with the carpet, paradoxically sobering and frightening at the same time. Intuitively stretching out your hands towards the sound of meowing, you realized in horror that you were falling down. The carpet, which had saved your life several times, was flailing in the air, trying to extinguish the flames that were engulfing the fabric faster and faster.

You closed your eyes and prepared to fall. The sharp blow, it felt like it, knocked out the remaining oxygen on the branch, as did a further fall onto the wet grass. The pain darkened vision. You wanted to scream, but you didn’t have the strength to unclench teeth and utter even a sound. Bent over, you still clutched Grimm to your chest, simultaneously trying to think about something good.

Heartslabyul still caused waking nightmares, but there were incredibly beautiful roses there. Flowers. Pleasant baking aroma. The softly shining sun.

A slow, careful breath literally created a storm inside. The lungs protested, the muscles tensed to the limit. It would be so easy to close your eyes and plunge into darkness if it weren't for the adrenaline still flowing through your veins. Your attacker was still somewhere nearby.

Sitting up with an effort of will, you could hardly resist so as not to fall back. Your side was burning, and the notorious stars were flying before eyes. What kept you from giving up was the realization that the breathing of the cat, limp in your arms, was becoming weaker. The fear of being alone in this world turned out to be enough of an incentive to go against everything: fate, a tired body and, possibly, broken bones.

A rustling sound came very close, and you tensed, preparing for the worst. Having spotted a dry branch nearby, you wondered how much time and effort it would take to grab it. There was a rustling sound again, and this time the steps took him by surprise, but a child appeared from behind the bushes. Even in the semi-darkness, you noticed his light gray hair and pointed ears. Gradually, two more appeared behind him: one with burgundy strands sticking out to the sides and a gloomy expression on his face, and the second, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

The very first, apparently the main one of the trio, took a step forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "How are you feeling? How many fingers am I showing?"

You just shook your head, closing your eyes. The voice of reason insisted that you had to run, but fear for Grimm did not allow you to take even a step..

"Us.. can.. help.. you.. "you didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded so quiet and muffled that you doubted whether you were heard. Your throat burned, but you opened your mouth again to repeat the request as many times as necessary.

"Dominic, it’s not a good idea to bring someone you don’t know home, is it?" The gloomy child spoke, and for a second you again started to panic. "If we bring everyone we meet and cross, we ourselves will soon become the King’s target."

King? That's all you needed. Previous territories also had heads, but facing the “royal family” sounded much more terrible and problematic

"..only a night.. I can.. stay in the forest.. only Grimm.." It seemed like torture to pronounce every word. Your vision was blurry, but you were obliged to hold out.

“Another guest won’t be such a problem,” Dominic answered. "Can you get up?"

No. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to get up. You couldn't even lie to yourself. You didn’t even have to answer, the main one came up and extended his hands to the cat. With trembling hands, struggling not to pull them away, you allowed the cat to be taken away

"Groom, stay and look after last one. Shelpi and I will go get Neige"

The one who was called Groom grumbled without ceasing, but still approached you. Watching the children disappear among the greenery, you allowed yourself to relax. At least Grimm was safe.

"Hey. Hey! Come to your senses!"

You felt someone shaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t make out anything else. Only at some point did you hear someone’s worried voice, but you couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying.

You came to your senses, then fell into oblivion again. Voices, sounds, light caused dizziness and rejection. The only thing you remembered throughout the entire chaotic state was that pleasant voice and someone’s warm hands.

"You woke up!" Someone voiced it before you even realized it yourself. It’s just that at some point you stopped distinguishing between reality and a dream, but it seems that this time you were definitely in reality. "Wait, I'll call Dominic"

Closing your eyelids, you tried to focus on the present. You weren't abandoned in the forest, that's a plus. The attacker didn't show up yesterday, or maybe you just weren't found. The questions “Who” and “Why” remained unanswered. It would be possible to close your eyes and not chase your tail, as before, but your intuition suggested that this time it would be different. That this was just the calm before the next storm. But you no longer had the strength to look for shelter so as not to be carried away to the mercy of fate.

This name fluttered familiarly in memory. That's right, that was the name of the bright child. Following with an unfocused gaze the young man - although now in your eyes he was just a colored spot - who quickly rushed off somewhere, leaving you for a minute.

A quiet knock brought you back to reality. It was strange, the young man didn’t seem to lock the door. Opening your eyes slightly, you squinted, trying to make out the newcomer. As you thought, it turned out to be the same child. Next to him stood someone your age - maybe a little older or younger - with a friendly smile. The corners of your lips slightly twitched upward, but they couldn’t become the same full-fledged smile.

"Are you feeling better now?" Asked the child, who continued speaking after a nod from you. “You’re probably still confused, so I’ll try to speak more slowly. My name is Dominic, my dwarf brothers and me have been living in this forest for a very long time. And this,” he pointed at the young man, “is Neige. Although you may already know him. Let me know what happened to you?"

"…if.. I knew.. someone attacked us while we were flying on the carpet.. we turned over and fell, Grimm.. Grimm! Where is he?" An attempt to sit up abruptly was unsuccessful, causing more circles under the eyes and weakness. A brunette who appeared next to you prevented you from turning over and falling out of bed

"Your friend is okay!" The dwarf immediately answered hastily. "He, like you, needs to rest. But you need to do this first. During the fall, you broke a rib" you immediately touched your burning side. “It will take time to heal.”

Having given a short thank you to him and the boy, as a sign that you were already feeling better, you began to hastily rebuild your plan of action. It was impossible to linger, but on the other hand, going in the current state was no less stupid. You understood that the fall could not have happened without something - there was a limit to luck and the capabilities of the human body - but the awareness did not brighten up what was happening.

"Do you know who could have attacked you?“ The young man asked softly, holding out a glass of water that had come from nowhere. However, you weren't complaining.

“No.. No, this is my first time in these lands,” after a couple of sips it became easier to speak. “We were flying… yes, we were flying,” you strained your tired memory. "…someone shot! I remembered the arrow!" Looking hopefully at Dominic, you saw a worried look. As if he realized who exactly attacked you and the Grimm. For some reason, you doubted whether it was worth finding out the truth. "This is not someone from the royal family, right?"

You tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic even to your own ears. For some reason, the duo didn't appreciate your joke.

“It might have been Rook,” you frowned, another new name. “He works as a hunter and serves Vi,” the young man tried to keep the conversation going with the same light laugh, which came out better than yours. However the impression he made was the same - he did not inspire confidence.

“Vi?” You asked carefully, afraid to confirm your fears.

"Exactly, you don’t know. That's what I call Vil, he is the king of these lands. We saw each other quite often at the castle!"

You were doomed. You could see the world literally crumbling before your eyes. This is exactly what was needed for happiness. Purely to confirm what you already suspected, you turned to Dominic, "What is the probability that… how did you call him, Rook?.. Reported everything to the king?"

Silence was a convincing enough answer.

Despite the chance of being discovered, you remained in the dwarves' house. It was inspired by the hopelessness and persuasiveness of Neige, who took upon himself the responsibility of your personal doctor. Although this was too strong a word, the process was still more led by the chief of the dwarves. Gradually you got to know the others.

Groom and Shelpi were part of the company that day. Although the first one was rude and hot-tempered, you couldn’t call him bad. It just took some getting used to. Shelpi was his opposite. A dwarf with a perpetually sleepy look, although you could understand him. In your current state, all you wanted to do was sleep.

There were four more gnomes: Timmy, Toby, Snick and Hop. You saw Timmy only from afar and only in someone else’s company. Perhaps he was just nervous around strangers. Toby was a sweetheart whose memory failed him more often than usual. Hop was a classic example of a cheerful child, and Snick's specialty was his perpetual allergies.

Watching their noisy but cheerful routine was a pleasant change from the nightmare that was happening in your life before. Nevertheless, you remembered Heartslabyul’s experience and were in no hurry to relax.

The more time you spent in their friendly company, the stronger the feeling of guilt grew. Understanding that they would come for you. Now or a little later didn't matter. Just like how many troubles befell the cat’s head for the company. Asking to take care of Grimm was another breaking through the ceiling called “selfishness,” but… that incident made it clear that problems were pouring down on your head more and more often. Their consequences were becoming increasingly difficult to correct.

Living with guilt was unbearable.

So much so that you were unable to look into the eyes of your faithful friend, who has literally gone through thick and thin with you, and you decided to leave him.

You didn't even hope for forgiveness. Deep inside you understood that this was just an attempt to come to an agreement with yourself, a struggle for the opportunity to hate yourself a little less. Looking at the recovering cat, this thought took root more firmly in consciousness.

The pathetic excuse “it will be better this way.”

Gradually you were allowed to take short walks. Your side still hurt, as did the wounds on back, but the fresh air helped to distract you and not drown in self-flagellation. The only activity for which you always had the strength.

Hoping to find your things, you tried to find the crash site from memory. It was stupid, especially since those trinkets were of no value. To some extent, they simply gave an imaginary sense of belonging. Reminders of your home world, which seemed farther and farther away day by day.

Moving aside the branches, you were finally able to find the desired clearing. It was like all the others, but some internal awareness did not allow you to pass by.

Check and leave.

Simple plan - simple implementation. Searching among the bushes without bending down was another challenge. Having sat down, you rose to your feet again with great difficulty, the shooting pain in your lower back made itself felt every time you tried to find your treasured things.

Breathing heavily, you leaned your hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. A little break won't hurt anyone, that's for sure in your condition. Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the clearing once again, making mental notes of where the bag might have been thrown.

There was not a soul around, or at least it seemed so. Perhaps over time you became too suspicious, but at the moment you could not leave the feeling of being watched, no matter how stupid it may sound. Who could be in the deep forest, right? Unless… who attacked you and the Grimm that day. You tsked and took another breath, trying to calm down.

It was dangerous to return to the house: you didn’t want to let Neige and his friends down. Trying to escape in an unknown direction was reckless. You didn’t know these places, one wrong turn and Robinson Crusoe will appear in this forest. Although you doubted that this world had heard of him. The possibility of becoming a discoverer was not encouraging.

"Ma cheri! What a rarity it is to find such a beautiful creature in such a dense thicket,” a voice that came out of nowhere took you by surprise.

Turning towards the sound at a speed you didn’t know you were capable of, you saw a strange blond-haired young man.

“Are you… talking about me?..” You asked carefully, simultaneously looking for a way to escape. Now the suspicions no longer seemed groundless.

He spoke a lot and not very clearly, sometimes you lost the thread of the story. In your best times, you didn’t like such conversations, let alone today. However, this was a good opportunity to look at the blond. He was wearing a cream-colored tunic, loose pants and a hat with a fluffy white feather.

"Oui! Yes and yes! A triple "yes" is not enough to prove the sincerity of my words. How brave and reckless are walks in the wilds, where every animal and people poses a danger. I had already decided that knowledge, Fata Morgana, which had darkened my mind and revealed such a fragile angel in human form!"

It was necessary to come up with an excuse and as quickly as possible. Perhaps you would be able to wander around, wait for him to leave, and return home without consequences. However, this would be too loud a statement. If there's one thing life has taught you, it was not to think ahead of time.

"Thank you, I guess?.. Did you want something?" You decided to ask directly.

"Oh, that's right. Wandering among the flora and fauna, I found one interesting little thing,” he sadly shook his head while you did everything to prevent doubts from showing on your face. "Obeying the will of my heart, I am trying to find the owner."

Emphasizing the last word, he smiled, narrowing his eyes. The nature of the emotion that flashed through them made you shiver.

"Well, I wish you good luck in your search, sir.."

"Hunt! But you can call me by my name, just Rook,” digging your nails into the palms, you kept a friendly expression on your face through an effort of will. The blond raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, and then also calmly began to close the distance. "I don’t dare to hope that you have heard of me. However, like me about you. His Majesty, Roi du Poison, has been wanting to meet you for quite some time, and who are we to refuse him."

Looking ahead at the outstretched hand and the unshakable figure of - as Neige said - the hunter, you doubted that you had any chance of escape.

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allicat0 · 2 months

Text

Tell me you need me

♡ summary: its been a month of fighting against the first order, Poe misses you and needs to let go of some built up tension.

♡ content: MDNI!, afab reader, smut, domination, praise, degradation, making out, rough sex, oral sex, penetrative sex, big dick, dominant Poe, submissive reader.

A/N: I’ve been obsessing over Dameron lately and needed to write some good smut

Being ranked top pilot in the starfighters is a big responsibility, though it’s also the cause of his large ego. Many would say Poe thinks too highly of himself, cocky, arrogant, and that one day he was going to be knocked off his pedestal, but he worked for that position, the title commander doesn’t come without effort. The split second decisions that he was forced to make in the midst of battle weren’t easy and most of the time crucial, for not just him, but for the rest of his squad, and for the resistance. Stress came with the job, it was inevitable, though this month was like no other, frustration was high and patience was low. No breaks, no relaxation, having no room to let go of all of this built up irritation and decompress, but also no time to release himself in others. . pleasures.

This last month, Poe has wanted nothing more than to pump a large load onto his fellow pilot’s face. He couldn’t get his mind off of her, not after the last time. The way she looked up at him. .god his mind couldn't shake the thought. Her pure eyes looking up at him through her lashes as she rested down on her knees for him, and only him. The moment his squadron arrived back from their expedition, his check in with Leia was brief as he was determined to get back to his cordors, to finally get a moment to himself.

You were thrilled to hear that the Black squadron was back from their expedition, it's been awhile since they’ve been home and you were eager to see Poe once again. It didn’t take long until you arrived outside of Poe’s room, you hesitated. Your hand stopped right before you placed a knock on his door. What was stopping you? What was making you so nervous? It hasn’t been that long since you saw him, so what was making you so anxious? As you were about to knock, the door slid open, your eyes met him almost instantly. You watched as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Dameron?” His name leaving your mouth caused him to clench his jaw, the way you said his name, it drove him utterly insane. Even if there was no sexual intent behind it, it made the hairs on his arms stick up. Poe was quick to grip your arm, dragging you inside his room, hearing as the door to his room closed behind you, it left the two of you alone with each other's company.

There was silence for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart thumping against your chest. You found your eyes staring down by his feet rather than his eyes, not bringing yourself to look up at him. You could feel him looking down at you, his eyes were drilling into the top of your skull. As he lets go of your arm, his hand slowly makes its way up, pushing your hair behind your ear, allowing your face to be more visible for him. “Why won’t you look at me?” Poe let out in a soft whisper.

Your breath hitched, not a single word in reply to his question. Poe placed his index finger under your chin lifting your head up to look into his eyes directly. “Darling, please look at me.” he pleaded to you. Your eyes finally lock with his and a smug smirk spread across his face. Poe leaned close to your ear, and began kissing along your jaw. “This last month” he inhaled deeply “has been so . . fucking hard, being away from you.” his kisses starting to trail along your neck.

“Dameron i-” he quickly cut you off “don’t say my name like that darling or I won't be able to stop myself” His breath was hot against your skin, sending a chill against your spine. “Don't,” You said bluntly. Poe pulled his face away from the crook of your neck, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Don’t stop.” You said looking up at him, giving him those eyes. . the eyes he couldn’t say no to, the eyes that got him here in the first place.

There was a pause for a moment, the two of you collecting your thoughts, before he finally leaned down pressing his lips against yours. His hands entangle through your hair holding your head in place. You let out a soft moan against his mouth from the sudden impact, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. It doesn’t last long before his tongue slips through the seam of your lips, tongues swirling with one another before he sucks on yours, parting away from you. Poe’s hands release your hair and travel down your sides halting at your hips pulling you closer. Lips smashing with one another once more. It wasn’t something you could explain but his touch was addicting and you couldn’t get enough. He was your own personal drug.

You break free of the kiss, a trail of saliva breaking at your departure, leaving the two of you to catch your breath in the process. Poe was eager, he wanted more, he didn’t want it to end. Moving into another kiss his lips stop before yours, lips brushing against each other. “Tell me you need me. .” Poe pleaded softly to you. “Tell me that you need me. . and I’ll be yours. .” His words sunk deep into your core, causing you to bite the bottom of your lip giving it a second thought. You wanted him, there was no denying these feelings. You wanted him and him alone. You nod your head answering his pleas, but he was unsatisfied and shook his head “ No baby, I need you to use your words.”

Pausing for just a moment, you work up the courage to give in to your desires “I need you ” You say “need me to what?” He retaliates quickly. “To touch me.” That's all he needed to hear, and in one swift motion he dragged you over to his cot, hands still placed against your hips. He pulls at the bottom of your tank top signalling you do put your arms up and that you did. Poe pulled your tank top over your head exposing your bare chest, your nipples stiffen from the cold brushing against them. He quickly guides you onto his cot, using your elbows to keep upright.

The sensation of Poe’s hot mouth latching onto your breast before running his tongue against your nipple sends a shiver down your spine. He was gentle with your breast switching between the two giving both sides the attention they deserved. His lips travelled, kissing each breast before slowly trailing down your stomach stopping just at the hem of your pants. Poe’s two index fingers come up and latch onto your pants pulling them down and off, leaving you in just your panties. He was quick to dip his head in between your legs, planting gentle kisses on the inners of your thighs, feeling his beard pricking against your soft skin, causing you to grow impatient. “Stop teasing me” You let out a whine. Poe look’s up at you from in between your legs with a smirk “I'm not teasing, you’re just impatient” You could feel how wet you were growing by the minute, his touch was enough to make you weep. His fingers come up to your core running them gently against the wet fabric of your panties. “I’ve barely even touched you and yet you're so wet for me” You could hear his shit eating grin in his words.

Within a split second he pulled off your panties and quickly dived back in between your legs planting a kiss against your wet pussy, sending a shiver down your spine. A whine escapes your throat as Poe’s tongue begins to suck on your clit, lapping his tongue over it in the process. His hands hooked onto the unders of your knees holding your legs up and open, so you were unable to close them in the process. Your hands reach down and entangle with his hair, holding his head in place. He knew what he was doing, and it showed. The amount of pleasure that was rushing through your body was indescribable. You bite down on your bottom lip trying your best to muffle your moans in the process, causing Poe to pull away. “Let me hear your moans baby” He said, letting his lips hover over your pussy, his hot breath causing your body to slightly jerk. “Let them hear how amazing I’m making you feel” He loved seeing the way you squirmed to his touch.

Your hands reach up to the pillow your head is resting on and gripping it tight as Poe continues to eat you out, You feel your high growing, you’re gaining closer to the edge. To your release. Poe doesn’t stop, he keeps messily fucking you with his tongue, feeling as you’re growing closer to cumming.

“Ah -fuck,” You moan out before the built up knot in your stomach finally releases onto his tongue, but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going, your eyes widen as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm. His hand leaves your knees, inserting two of his fingers into your slick pussy, pumping into you slowly, unmatching the rhythm of his tongue. The sensation is causing your legs to shake, as you were already chasing your next orgasm, the second one closer then the first. “Come on pretty girl, cum on my fingers. .” Poe said, guiding you. He knew the right spots to push you over the edge, your orgasm was creeping up closer by the second and before you knew it you were cumming for him once again, your pussy clamping down on his fingers. “That’s my girl” Poe said while pulling his fingers out of you, licking the sear wet slick of your cum off his fingers.

Your head moves to look down at him but he’s already right there, face inches from yours, his movements were alway so quick, or maybe your mind was moving so slow, you could no longer tell. The tips of his index and ring finger slip past your lips placing them on top of your tongue making you taste yourself on his fingers. Your lips wrap around his fingers and slowly suck the last of your juices off of him. Your hands began to wander, palming him through his pants, he was already so stiff the brush of your hand over his cock was enough to make him groan. “Do you see how crazy you make me?” Poe said, watching as your hand trails against him.

He was quick to get up and off the cot, leaving you there, repositioning yourself onto your knees. You watched as he pulled his shirt up and over his head, following through by unbuckling his belt, tugging his pants and boxers down in the process, revealing his large thick and swollen cock. Reaching out and taking it in your hand, your tongue dragging itself across the slit of his sensitive tip before you swirl it around the head, sending a shiver down his spine. Your lips hallow over the head of his cock, tongue placed at the base slowly moving your head back and forth. “Fuck thats it” Poe groaned under his breath looking down at you as his hand entangles through your hair, guiding your head, bobbing it faster.

You pull your head back to catch a breath releasing his cock from your mouth, saliva running down your chin. Poe couldn’t get over the sight, seeing you like this was his favourite thing in the world. His hand cupped your cheek caressing his thumb softly against your skin. He looked in thought, what was he thinking? “Dameron?” You let out almost in a light whisper, his breath hitched, pushing you down on your back once again, he didn’t even respond, not a single word. Poe positioned your legs around his torso and lined the tip of his cock at your entrance.

It all happened so quick you weren’t sure how to react, his hands placed on your hips, pushing himself into you, you gasped at his cock stretching you out, sinking deeper into you. Poe didn’t wait for adjustment; he was impatient and couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands placed at his torso, pushing him away so he would calm down, he pulled back slightly just so he could pound back into you ignoring your attempt. Your face contorted into pure pleasure letting out a loud moan.

“Holy. Fuck Dameron! W-wait!” You called out to him. Poe’s grip tightened on your hips and picked up the pace, repeatedly slamming himself into you. “Shitt you feel so good, pretty girl” Poe groaned through the back of his throat. His hands place themselves on the back of your knees pushing them up to your head “You’re taking me so well.” He let out once more.

You couldn’t process words, your mind was fog, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pumped into you. You were already sensitive enough from the last two orgasm’s that you could feel another one coming around the corner. The sound of your combined moans and slapping skin filled the room. Your eyes locked on his, watching his chain swing with the rhythm of your thrusts. This was like no other. His free hand went down to your pussy once again, his thumb teasing your clit, as he continued to pump into you. He felt as you began to clamp down on him, a smug look growing on his face once more. “Are you gonna cum?” you frequently nodded your head, words barley coming to you. “Yes, fuck.” You just barely make out. “Then beg.” Poe said with a stern voice, causing your eyebrows to furrow, was he serious? “Beg me, to let you cum.” He said once more clarifying your questions. “Mm please, please let me cum” you plead out to him. His breathing is becoming as heavy and hitched as your own, was he trying to cum with you? “Please Dameron, I wanna cum so bad” You moaned out once more. You could see his jaw clench he was breaking, his thrust were becoming sloppy and out of rhythm, he was just as close as you were. “Fuck, your pussy’s clenching on me so tight” you could feel the knot in your stomach grow. “agh, I don’t- Ah fuck I’m gonna cum.” You cry out to him “that’s it baby. Cum for me” Your legs fall and wrap around his waist, as you cum on his cock, your legs shake once again, as you run your hands through his hair, tugging on it slightly. You moans were like sympathy to his ears. Poe thrusted into you one last time cummimg, his cum filling you up. The two of you were breathless, chest rising and falling trying your best to catch your breath.

Poe leaned down and placed one soft kiss against your lips, It was more than just a kiss; it was a proclamation of love, a silent promise of everything they had ever dreamed of. Time stood still as you lost yourself in the intoxicating passion of each other's embrace, the moment etched into your minds. Pulling away not long after he looked into your eyes. . just for a moment, gathering his thoughts. A gentle smile played on your lips, a reflection of the tenderness in your heart. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light yet filled with a depth of emotion that words could never capture. The two of you didn't need to speak; the silence between you was enough. “I want nothing more than to be the reason you smile,” Poe said to you in a light whisper.

@allicat0 signing off

#star wars #poe dameron #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #smut #mdi #mature #poe dameron fanfiction #resistance #starflighter #poe Cameron x reader smut #starwars the clone wars #starwars the last Jedi #Poe dameron Star Wars #SW #star wars universe

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cleo30300 · 6 months

Text

M.A.A.D CITY. CHAPTER FOUR! MONEY TREES.

warnings : mention of drugs (1), violence ( extremely minor ), cursing, arguments.

previous part. | next part.

Knock Knock.

Your knuckles hit the door in a rhythmic pattern, the door to the Morales’ home, that is. You would think that maybe you’d have a key by now since you visit so much, but Ms. Morales doesn’t like you that much, you guess.

There are a few beats of silence before you hear shuffling approach the door and the tired voice of your best friend.

“ Who is it? “, he grunts.

“ Me. “

Miles’ voice doesn’t reach your ears again for a few minutes before he’s sighing and unlocking the door.

The wood swings open to reveal him, Voltron pyjama pants and all. His hair is the same as when you last saw him, a little frizzy at the top, but neat braids brushing his collarbone. He needs a haircut.

“ What’s up? “, he says blankly.

“ You’re not gonna let me in? “

“ I don’t gotta let you in. You don’t live here. “, he stares at you like he can’t believe you just asked that question. Like you just asked for a brick of crack. “ What’s up? “

You’re starting to get a little irritated. Barely any communication for a week and when you show up to see what the deal is, you’re met with a grumpy teenage boy who looks like he’s about to break apart into glass shards.

“ I just wanted to see what you were up to, Miles. Don’t get so upset. “

“ ‘M not upset. I haven’t been up to anything, so you can go now. “

“ What’s wrong with you? “

“ Nothing’s wrong. You show up at my house and then you keep on asking me stupid questions like I don’t have anything else to do except talk to you. “, his eyes narrow. The once gold specks in the hazel colour are gone and replaced with anger. Your fist clenches, like he just punched you in the gut and you’re about to reel your own hand back and sock him with it.

“ What the hell is your problem? You barely even talk to me anymore and then when I try to be a good friend, you catch an attitude! “

“ I don’t have a problem! Estas Sordo? “ Miles moves his hand from the doorknob, reaching to grab your upper arm and push you back from the frame, not hard, but enough to get you to move out of his personal space. That you’ve hardly even invaded.

“ Go somewhere else. “, he spits.

“ Fine. “, your eyebrows are furrowed together. You’d been holding a sour expression for so long that your face was sore when you dropped it as soon as the door slammed in your face. Your feet automatically move to the exit of the building. A lump of guilt and anger welling up in your throat while you walk.

What the hell is his problem?

——

Miles swears he wants to choke you out. You’re so nosy. Can never mind your own business. He bounces his leg up and down, cracks his knuckles, drinks tons of water, tries to watch television, anything to get that conversation off his brain. So annoying. You should’ve never even come over. He wasn’t going tell you what was going on anyway, and you know that because you know him. Maybe you don’t know him, since anyone who knows him knows not to show up at his house uninvited.

Hard Headed. Cabeza Dura, whatever you want to be called. It doesn’t change the fact that you don’t listen, ever. It’s not like he ever told you not to come over, it was an unspoken rule!

I am avoiding you. Do not come over.

Easy as that.

You act like one dollar will turn into a million if you come over and act like the mediator between him and his thoughts.

But when he thinks about it, is it really as easy as that?

Of course, you’d come over.. but— not to argue with him. He didn’t want to argue with you, there was no point. He should’ve just said “ Okay. “ and left it at that. Maybe tell you the truth while he’s at it. The truth.

It’s Friday. The trip is next Sunday.

He hasn’t told you, he hasn’t told his mom, he hasn’t told Uncle Aaron and he certainly won’t be telling his school counsellor what the hell was going on in his very busy life. It’s eating him up on the inside. Tearing him apart and pulling out his hair. What will he do?

What would you do?

Tell the truth.

Shut up.

He has to tell his mom. Mama first, then everything else. She’s the only parent he has left. That makes his heart ache thinking about it. He should get over it, nothing is going to change the fact that he’s gone.

Why is every thought he’s ever had coming to the front of his mind right now when he’s about to tell his mom the craziest information? That he’s going on a trip 2244 Miles away from Brooklyn to Vegas of all places?

Right.

His fingers are shaking, he’s going to drop his phone or something. Just get it over with.

He messes up the passcode two times before getting it right, and then he mistypes, “ Mama “ in on the contact list once before he gets his shit together.

Do it.

The call button is right there.

Just do it.

Shut up.

translations:

Cabeza Dura. — hard headed.

Estas Sordo? — You’re deaf?

#miles g morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles 42 #prowler miles x reader #42 miles morales x reader #cleo’s works!#earth 42 miles x black reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

prev chapter

———

Seven in the morning on September 8th, the mourning doves gently cooing as the sun rises, the walk to the minivan is as silent as a graveyard.

“C’mon, guys,” Luis tries, but not that hard. “Let’s try for a good year, okay?”

To her credit, Veronica does her best to muster up a smile. Marco manages a nod.

Rachel does nothing. She hasn’t so much as spoken a word since the accident.

The half-hour drive to where everyone needs to do is completely silent. Luis tries initially to put on the radio, but he hears Marco’s sharp inhale when he averts his eyes from the road to change the station and stops immediately.

It’s been three months since Mamá and Papá passed. Sometimes Luis feels like none of them are ever going to be okay again.

Rachel and Marco are dropped off first.

“Remember to check in with your guidance counsellors,” Veronica says. “Luis and I talked to them last week. They’re aware of the…situation.”

Not that it did much. They’d made an appointment to talk to the school administration as soon as the high school opened, just before classes started, but they’d made it to the office and neither of them knew what to say. ‘Hey, there’s a very good chance that both of these kids are going to have extreme drops in performance or even fail because they both just lost their parents in one night?’ No, of course not. ‘Please be aware that Rachel has regular panic attacks at the sounds of car horns and brakes squealing, and that Marco sometimes just gets up and leaves and you don’t hear from him again for hours?’ Probably, but still. How the hell were they even supposed to breach the subject? Luis and Veronica aren’t fucking guardians. They’re barely even legal adults. Hell, neither of them can fucking drink, yet!

But there was no one else to do it. So they mumbled their way through an explanation — parents dead, kids traumatized, go easy — and high-tailed it the hell out of there. Both of them have been hanging up the phone whenever the school calls.

“Love you guys,” Luis says as they wrench open the side door and hop out of the van, slinging their backpacks on behind them. Veronica repeats the sentiment. Marco mumbles something in return, Rachel says nothing, and then they’re both off.

Before they can fade completely out of sight, Veronica calls Marco’s name.

“Watch out for your sister.”

Marco hesitates for a moment, eyes shining like broken glass, and then he nods. He turns back around without another word and disappears into the crowded mass of teenagers.

“We knew today was going to be rough,” Luis mutters, starting the car and carefully navigating out of the parking lot. “We expected this. That’s what all the parenting books said.”

Veronica’s silent for a long moment.

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

It takes them a little farther to get where Veronica needs to go. Her apprenticeship is entirely dependant on whether or not she can find a welder willing to take her on — it’s 2003, for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be that hard, but some people suck. Some people will be completely incapable of seeing her as valuable as she is, and they won’t even bother. It’s a shit reality, and frustrating as hell, but it’s their best bet for money in the long run. Veronica’s always been good with her hands, and with Luis already eating up funds in tuition and God knows how much savings they have left with Mamá and Papá gone, Veronica working as she’s learning is their best bet. The trades pay well, too, and they’ve got three more kids to save up for.

Luis swallows the lump in his throat. Marco has always wanted to go to Juliard.

How the fuck are they gonna afford that?

“Drop me off here,” Veronica says, pointing at a shop just down the road. Luis slows to a stop in front of it, peering through the windshield.

“…That place?” he asks skeptically. “You sure?”

If it weren’t for the two people arguing just inside the garage doors, Luis would assume the shop is abandoned. The sign’s paint is so faded and scuffed up that it’s impossible to read, and several windows are boarded up. The walls are more graffiti than brick.

“I looked it up online,” Veronica explains. “They don’t have a website, but I found a couple blogs mentioning it. Apparently it’s the most competent shop in town, and it’s run by a woman.” She shoots him a small smile, grabbing her bag and opening the passenger door. “I’ll be fine, you big loser. Or have you forgotten that I’ve kicked your ass in every fight we’ve ever had?”

Luis snorts. He has not forgotten. He’s pretty sure he has minor brain damage from the time Veronica slammed his head into a side table when they were fighting over a girl in middle school (who didn’t like either of them, go figure).

“Believe me, asshole. I didn’t forget. Keep your cell on, though, okay? Call me if things get weird. I’ll be here, you know I will.”

She smiles at him again, and seeing some genuine happiness and excitement bleed into her expression for the first time in months is more relieving than Luis has the words for.

“I will, Luis. Now get lost. You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He waits until she’s inside the shop and talking to who he assumes is the owner before carefully peeling off, mindful of the early morning traffic around him. Once he’s well on his way and a little more comfortable behind the wheel, he adjusts his rearview mirror slightly to see the baby seat strapped tightly in the back.

“You and me, now, huh, Lance?”

Lance grins at him around the thumb he’s got stuffed in his mouth, babbling happily.

“Yeah, that’s right, buddy. You’re going to be the first college-educated baby, because we sure as shit cannot afford daycare.” He grimaces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say shit around you. The parenting books say you pick up on bad language and are more likely to be using it when you’re older.”

Lance does not seem to be too terribly offended, continuing to stare back at Luis through the mirror, brown eyes big and wide and knowing.

The parenting books say that he will have just barely gained a sense of self and awareness in July — 7 months — but Lance has always appeared so knowing. He’s ten months old, now, and sometimes Luis is convinced he already knows how to speak in full sentences and just doesn’t feel like it.

Babies grow at their own rate, Mamá had said years ago, when Luis asked why Rachel wasn’t walking yet. She’ll get there, mijo. Don’t worry your pretty head about all those milestones your textbooks tell you about.

It hurts to remember her words. Even now, months after the accident, thinking of his parents makes something like bile rise up in his throat.

But he’s never known anyone wiser than his mother. And certainly no parents better than his own, so he might as well get used to thinking about them.

He pulls into the first available parking spot he sees, in what has to be a fifteen minute walk at least to the main buildings on campus.

Oh, well.

He turns off the car, running through the checklist in his head — windows up, lights off, no check engine light, keys in pocket, seatbelt off — before getting out and opening the back door.

“Alright, Lancey-pants. You ready to come sit through Calculus III with me? Huh? Yeah, I bet you are, you little nerd. Let’s go.”

Lance’s carseat is big and clunky and heavy most of all, and combined with the diaper bag and his own backpack he feels like a fucking packhorse. He feels like a freak, too, with all the stares and giggles from other students he walks by.

He swallows, ignoring the burning of his cheeks, and walks on.

He just barely makes it to his class on time, sliding into one of the only available seats just as the lecturer starts speaking. He keeps Lance strapped in his carseat, rocking him gently with his foot as he takes out his notepad. He prays that Lance falls asleep so that he can get through the next couple hours without incident.

“…and hopefully you’ve all read the first chapter of your textbooks, and we can dive right in…”

———

They almost make it.

They get so close.

For the first two hours of the lecture, everything is fine. Luis is paying as much attention as he can, scrawling down notes to keep up with his rapidly-speaking professor. Every so often someone shoots him a dirty look when Lance says something in baby-talk, but they can fuck right off. Lance is being an angel, by baby standards. He’s almost completely silent, brown eyes wide as he observes the world around him, vastly different from the home he’s been confined to for the entirety of the summer. Any sound from him is no louder than the occasional whisper of any confused students. He’s fine.

And then the sniffling starts.

Luis isn’t quite sure what sets him off. He made sure to feed him just before they left, so he shouldn’t need anything else for another two hours. He’s obviously not sleepy. It might be a diaper thing, but Luis doubts it. He took care of that before he left, too.

Regardless, Lance begins to sniffle, and then he begins to cry, and no amount of desperate shushing and cooing from Luis does anything before Lance truly begins to wail.

Like a scene from a nightmare, the professor stops what she’s doing. Every eye in the classroom turns to him.

“Is everything all right?” the professor asks.

“Fine,” Luis chokes out. He doesn’t even take the time to gather up his bag, he just scoops Lance from his seat and flees as quickly as he can. Hopefully he can come back for his stuff when the lecture ends.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Luis soothes, gently bouncing an inconsolable Lance as he walks the campus grounds. Numerous people give him nasty or pitying looks as they walk by, but Luis ignores them. They’re not his concern right now. “What’s wrong, huh? You miss your parents? Me too, sweetheart. Fuck.”

Lance gets like this, sometimes. He just cries and cries, like his heart is breaking. Veronica thinks his heart is a little broken, and he needs time to heal, like the rest of them.

“It’s okay, Lancito. Let it out. Let it out.”

By the time he sees his class file out of the lecture hall, Lance has finally calmed down to hiccups and sniffles.

“Let’s go get our stuff, yeah?”

Luis tries to slip back inside as inconspicuously as possible, making a beeline for his seat and is relieved to find his stuff untouched. Thank God.

Lance protests when he tries to rebuckle him in the carseat, so he just dumps all his books into the seat and holds Lance instead. It’s fine. If Lance wants to be held, he can hold him. It’s the first day of classes, after all, so he probably won’t miss too much, note-wise —

“Excuse me, young man.”

Luis startles at the voice, whipping around to face whoever’s approaching. His professor stands a few feet away from him, straight-backed and tall, orange saree almost reaching the ground. Luis turns to face her, setting down the carseat and holding out one hand.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting the lecture earlier, Professor. I’m Luis Sanchez.”

“Sarah Lee,” she says. “And no need to apologize.” She smiles kindly, letting go of Luis’ hand and extending hers out to Lance. “And you, little one? What’s your name.”

Lance giggles. He doesn’t remove his hand from his mouth — thankfully — but leans forward to bat his head gently against her hand.

“This is Lance.” Luis pokes him in the stomach, making him giggle again. “He’s noisy. I wouldn’t usually bring him to class, I swear, but I had no other option and I already paid tuition —”

“Walk with me,” Professor Lee interrupts, and then she’s out the lecture hall without so much as a glance behind her. Luis frantically throws the rest of his stuff into the carseat and scrambles to follow her. She doesn’t speak again until they reach the campus gardens — the projects of fourth year environmental science students.

“You’re nineteen, yes? Twenty?”

“Twenty,” Luis affirms.

She hums. “Thirty years ago, I was in your exact situation.” She leans forward and plucks a sprig of mint from the garden, holding it towards Lance. “Good for digestion,” she explains, at Luis’ wary look. “And soothing the mind.” Luis nods once, and she hands it to Lance, who immediately shoves it in his mouth. He makes a face initially, but seems to decide that he likes it, gnawing on it slowly.

“You were in my situation?” Luis prompts. This is…not what he expected, but he’s so lost and the professor is speaking so kindly that Luis is willing to take any helping hand, at this point. Plus, Lance seems to like her, so.

“Yes,” she continues. “Twenty years old, freshly married with a newborn baby, desperately trying to get my degree so I didn’t throw away everything my mother sacrificed to get me where I was. Not an easy task.”

“Oh.” Luis feels horrible for misleading her. “Lance isn’t…he’s not mine. He’s my brother. My parents —” his voice cracks — “my parents passed, early this summer. I have no one else to watch him. My other siblings can’t take him right now and it’s not ideal, but I figured university has other adults, you know? People will be mature about it. I just — I dunno. It’s — I’m sorry if I implied our situations were the same. I can’t imagine what you had to go through.”

“Luis,” she says gently. She stops, facing him fully. “I am so, so sorry for your loss.” She considers him carefully. “You are carrying a lot on your shoulders right now, child. You don’t need to carry unwarranted guilt, as well. True, our situations are not identical, but they are very similar, no?“

“I guess,” Luis says weakly.

“I’m trying to offer my help, child,” Professor Lee says, reaching out and squeezing his hands. “Just like I was helped when I needed it. Accept it.”

Luis shudders, then nods. This is almost too good to be true, and he’s in no place to refute it. He’s not sure exactly what she’s offering, but anything is better than dragging poor Lance to class every day and hoping for the best.

“Good. Now, thankfully there are much better systems in place now than there were in the seventies. Did you know the university offers on-campus childcare for reduced rates, to help train the student educators? Come. Let me show you where to sign up.”

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gasolineghuleh · 2 years

Text

Heated

Anonymous commission for Papa iii in heat, while you’re ovulating.

NSFW Below:

The satin sheets slip on the bed underneath your tight grip, propelled forward by Papa’s hips snapping into your own. His hand is already clamped to the back of your neck and you can feel your cunt clench with yearning as he leans over your back. Papa’s lips dot across the expanse of your shoulders, leaving small smudges of paint in their wake. You can feel his raven black hair fall forward, grazing across your skin just light enough to make goosebumps erupt down your neck. Of course he notices this, and his lips curve into a smile before pressing into you again.

“I love it when you are like, si? Underneath me and crooning for the pleasure that you know I give you,” he whispers into your soft skin. You whine in response, rolling your hips against his. The sound of fabric on fabric is frustrating, simply reminding you that his cock is just out of reach, and only just barely pressing against where you want it the most. “Desperate for me, aren’t you? I know it. I can… smell it.” Papa buries his nose in the hollow behind your ear and takes a deep breath in, illustrating his point.

“Papa…” You clear your throat and start again, deciding to play into whatever fantasy he has going in his heat-addled brain. “You know I want you. You know I’m fertile, and willing, and able. Ready for you.” Papa’s hand tightens from its place on your hip, his nails leaving small crescent moon shaped marks in the flesh. You know he’ll likely bruise you tonight, if his fervor is anything to go off of. Still, you double down. “You can smell that I’m ovulating, can’t you?” His sharp intake of breath behind you is more than enough proof that your words landed, but still, he speaks.

“Cara… Mia Prime Mover… You want this, then? To bear my fruit? Carry me inside of you for nine months…” He growls as his teeth grip your skin, biting and thrusting ferociously into your hips. When he ruts harder against you, you grunt and roll back into him, gliding the hard outline of his cock along your ass. Papa’s hand moves from the back of your neck around, cupping your throat in his palm and applying pressure. With a snarl he pulls you up, pressing his chest against your back and forcing you to kneel on the edge of the bed, arms flailing as you try to recover your balance.

“Papa! Fuck!” you yelp, bringing up one hand and taking hold of his forearm where it rests across your collarbone. He responds by nipping at the lobe of your ear, pressing his ever-hardening cock into your backside. His other hand finally leaves your hip and roams to the front of your body, slowly beginning its journey towards the hem of your panties.

“I intend to, sorella. Do not worry about that, eh?” His voice is husky in your ear, breaths coming hot and heavy as his arousal begins to cloud his senses. You know that his heat hits differently that your fertile week— he becomes lust crazed, feral almost. His eyes will haze with desire, his cock will swell larger than it should be, a knot will appear at the base… and he won’t stop fucking you until he’s gotten his fill of you. Something that could take hours. You swallow past the lump in your throat and the digging of his fingers in your windpipe and speak up once more.

“Take me. Ruin me. Make me a little heir.” The sharp intake of breath behind you is the only warning you get before Papa spins you around roughly, clawed fingernails tearing through the silk chemise as easy as a hot knife would carve through butter. A hot rush of desire flows through your body, electrifying your clit and sparking at the nerve endings in your fingers. It’s been years, but you still can’t help your response when he takes you so physically like this.

“Sathanas and Dark Lord Below, I can smell you,” he drawls, following you onto the bed after he shoves you down, jostling the pillows and bedsheets as he does so. His tongue carves a path from your navel to the column of your throat and you can feel his canines beginning to elongate as his heat takes hold. “I can smell your arousal, si? The need… Burning, yearning. I can smell your cunt leaking for me.” His words hit you directly where you need him the most, your cunt clenching as a shudder of arousal makes your muscles tremble.

“Tell me more,” you whisper, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. You have a sudden need to have him covering you, skin to skin and soul to soul. He obliges, flattening himself on top of you and bringing his lips to yours for the first time this evening. When you nip at his lower lip he growls, panting an open-mouthed breath of desire against you before sealing the kiss harshly, teeth dragging along your lip in return.

“You reek,” he mutters, hand finding the hemline of your panties and dipping below swiftly. “I can smell you- could smell you all the way down the hall. So wet and pliant and open… Begging for your Papa, si? You need me… So bad, you need me. Posso dire quanto mi vuoi dentro di te… Pathetic.” You moan against his lips and trap them again, kissing him roughly as your nails dig into the skin of his back through his shirt. He breaks the kiss quickly with a growl, sitting up on top of you and ripping his shirt off over his head, discarding it quickly to the side. It only takes a snip of his long nails and your shirt is laying on the bed in shreds, torn from you with ease.

“Could the others tell? Do they know?” you ask, lifting your hips from the bed slightly to press against his. As you expected, his nostrils flare in jealousy as he presses you back down to the bed with one firm hand.

“Si... and I do not give a fucK,” he says, popping the K in his throat and finally diving his hand into your panties. “The whole Abbey knows how much you want me, how desperate you are. How desperate I am.” Papa’s finger slip-slides against your clit, slick with your desire already. He presses on the delicate bud firmly, moving his finger across it swift enough for you to tense up, muscles reacting to the sudden burst of pleasure after such a long build up. “The whole Abbey knows I’m here now, fucking you and filling you with me. You like that, eh?”

In response you merely buck your hips against his hand, trying to force his finger lower, where you really want it. He takes the hint with enough graciousness and ease that you almost weep with relief, moaning and allowing yourself to arch off of the bed when his middle finger slides deeply into you. Papa crooks his finger inside of you, pressing against the small bundle of nerves inside of you that makes your whole body light up, electric pink and wavering floods of arousal. A bone deep groan falls from your lips as he works you to orgasm, the motions coming with a practiced ease as he guides you down from your climax, crooning to you.

“Now… It is for Papa.” Papa sits up on top of you, undoing his belt with a jangle that goes directly to your clit, still throbbing and swollen from your orgasm. In a swift motion Papa pulls out his cock, running the head along your entrance through your panties. “The clothing is a bother, I am thinking.” He purses his lips and looks down at you, considering the irksome piece of fabric before reaching down and simply tearing it at the elastic. It gives way and falls to the side and then he’s there, the head of his cock dragging through your slickness and pressing gently at your entrance.

“Papa, please- Please don’t make me wait longer.” You roll your hips upward to meet his cock, gasping when the head catches on your clit, muscles jolting. Papa smiles down at you and leans forward, caging you with his arms as his hands dent in the mattress. He leans close enough to you to put his lips just below your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.

“No, no, Sister. We don’t want to put you through that, si?” He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, now. “No, we don’t.” With one strong thrust he slides his cock into you to the hilt, his hips pressing into yours. Your mouth drops open and you keen, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him tighter against you, nails digging into his back as you urge him on.

He needs no further encouragement, already starting to thrust between your legs as his lips seek out yours. Papa kisses you roughly, tongue twining with yours as he fucks you faster, harder, deeper. The bed frame rocks with his motions, slamming back into the stone wall hard enough to move the whole thing slightly with each movement. In a quick burst of passionate desire Papa moves his hands away from your shoulders, sliding them under your ass and gripping you tightly. He lifts you just enough to give himself more room, thrusting down into your cunt as he drops his head back, mouth open slightly and eyes shut in pleasure.

“Fill me, Papa,” you urge through your own moans. You bring your hands down to his, gripping his wrists under your ass and squeezing him tightly. When you clench the walls of your cunt around him he grunts, his thrusts starting to falter. “Breed me. Fill me. Make everyone know who I belong to.”

“Cara-” Papa cuts himself off short with a moan, his hips stuttering into yours with each pulse of his climax. You can feel his cum filling you, the warmth spreading with each twitch of his cock inside of you. Finally he stops, lowering you gently and leaning over you slightly. His eyes are still closed and he’s breathing heavily, but a content smile starts to spread across his face.

“Papa?” you ask, bringing a hand to his cheek and cupping his face gently in your palm. His eyes open and you melt, never quite able to escape the feeling of that two-toned stare. Something ethereal and deep, with a quiet but burning pain beneath them. “Say something, my love. Is your heat quelled?” Papa huffs out a quiet laugh and leans over you, pressing his nose to yours gently.

“It never will be, as long as you’re mine.”

His cock twitches inside of you.

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #the band ghost #ghost bc #nf #hfoa #papa emeritus iii #papa iii #terzo #papa emeritus

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remuslupinsdaughter · 9 months

Text

Protect her

Summary:A 13 year old girl is rescued from the militia by agent Madani and is put under Franks protection.

Warnings: swearing, trauma, panic attacks, violence, blood, weapons, domestic child abuse If you’ve watched the punisher you know the drill.

Part two

Frank sat in the booth opposite Rory and agent Madani, Rory avoided eye contact and pushed the food around her plate. “So Rory this is Frank he’s going to keep you safe” Madani said, Rory looked at Frank then back at Madani with a scared look, “it’s ok I know him, he’s a friend of mine he won’t let anything bad happen to you” she said, Rory nodded, “ok I’m gonna go now, Frank call me if you need anything” Madani said standing and turning to Rory, “everything’s going to be fine” she said kindly then left.

“Alright kid let’s go” Frank said standing up and extending an arm, Rory slid out of the booth and stood without saying a word and followed Frank outside the diner, as soon as the door to the diner closed Rory took a run for it, she sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her, her lungs burning as she rounded a corner down an alley an outstretched arm grabbed her, she screamed out which was quickly muffled by a hand covering her mouth, she thrashed and kicked to try and get free but got nowhere. “Easy now just calm down” Frank said restraining Rory with ease and carrying her to his truck, he opened the passenger door and threw her inside, Rory curled in on herself hiding herself in her knees. Frank rounded the truck and got in the drivers side glancing at Rory before starting up the truck, “I’m tryna help you kid, faster you realise that the easier this will be” he said, Rory didn’t move.

It got dark quickly and Frank pulled in to a motel, he looked over at Rory and sighed, he got out the truck and walked round to the passenger side opening the door, he went to grab Rory’s arm but she flinched backwards, Franks eyes softened for a moment “I’m not gonna hurt you kid but I won’t hesitate to carry your ass in there if you try to run again” he said leaning down to try and look at her. Rory got out the truck clutching her backpack close to her chest and staring at the floor, Frank closed the car door behind her and they walked to the reception, “hi can I get a queen and a single please” Frank said to the receptionist, “of course honey!” The receptionist said in a strangely cheery voice considering it was almost midnight. She handed Frank a key, “room 204” she said, Frank thanked the lady and walked to the room with Rory just in front of him so he could keep an eye on her.

“Use the bathroom, then get some sleep, we’re hitting the road at sunrise” Frank said and lay on the bed putting his hands behind his head. Rory set her backpack on the bed then walked in the bathroom, she fought off the painful lump in her throat and splashed her face with cold water, her whole life was turned upside down in a few days, yes she was away from her abusive father and alcoholic mother but now she was on the run with a man she was completely intimidated by, she just wanted to run to her uncle Billy’s offices and tell him everything, he at least showed her some kindness and got doctors to treat her bruises and broken ribs when her father got drunk and beat her.

Rory just about pulled herself together and exited the bathroom, Frank watched her as she walked over to the bed and lay down facing the wall, Frank sighed and stood up pulling the chain across the door and locking it with the key, “doors locked and I’m keeping the key so don’t even try running” Frank grumbled then lay back down on the bed and flicked the lights off.

Rory didn’t know when she fell asleep but she was woken up by Frank lacing up his boots, she sat up and looked around, “use the bathroom then get your shit together we’re leaving in ten” Frank said, Rory stood up then stopped in her tracks when she heard men whispering and car doors shutting, she looked at Frank who put a finger to his lips and peered out the window, he looked at Rory “get under the bed, cover your ears and shut your eyes” he said, Rory nodded and crawled under the bed doing exactly as Frank said, screwing her eyes as tight as she could and clamping her hands over her ears. Rory could hear muffled gunshots and felt the vibrations of several footsteps and scuffles, she was under there for what felt like an eternity before she felt someone grab her foot, she screamed and kicked whoever it was hard and it worked because they let go giving Rory a chance to scramble to the top corner of the bed frame curling herself tightly into a ball, “hey hey easy kid it’s me it’s Frank” he said looking under the bed for her, “come on out it’s ok they’re gone” he said, Rory crawled out and her eyes widened at the scene around her, four bodies lay on the floor, blood pooling around them. Rory swallowed a scared whimper, her hands starting to shake, Frank stood in front of her blocking her view. “Hey look at me, they wanted to hurt you, given half a second they would’ve killed you I did what I had to do” Rory’s eyes filled with scared tears as she tried to control her breathing, “hey stop it, their blood ain’t worth a single one of your tears, they’re bad people” Frank said trying to keep her attention, “now we gotta get outta here and get back on the road, someone will have called the cops” he said, Rory nodded and grabbed her backpack, she ran to the truck followed by Frank who noticed a small teddy bear fall out of Rory’s backpack. He jumped in the truck and handed Rory the bear, “hey this fell out your bag” he said, Rory looked and her eyes widened snatching the bear from his hands and stuffing it in her backpack, “uh thanks” she said, her shoes suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world, “I think that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me” Frank said with a small chuckle, Rory’s mouth twitched in a small smile.

“Thank you” Rory said after a few hours on the road, Frank was slightly taken aback and glanced at her, “for what?” He asked, “for stopping those guys from getting to me” she said, still avoiding eye contact, “it’s what I’m here for kid” Frank replied, “you hungry?” He asked as he pulled into an ihop.

They slid into a booth and Frank handed Rory a menu, she looked over it then tilted her head in confusion, “what are these?” She asked pointing to pancakes, Frank looked at her with exactly the same expression, “how old are you again?” “Thirteen” “you’re thirteen years old and never had pancakes before?” “No” Rory said shrinking back into herself a little, Frank took both the menus and called the waitress over, “two pancakes with butter and syrup, some coffee and a water please sweetheart” Frank said handing the menus to the waitress.

The tv caught Rory’s attention, it was a news reporter at anvil corporation talking to Billy Russo, Rory’s eyes widened and she watched the tv, Frank looked at the tv then back at Rory, “you know him?” He asked, Rory seemed transfixed on the tv, “hey” Frank said raising his voice slightly and snapping his fingers in front of her face, “Billy Russo Do. You. Know. Him” Frank said his face dropped into a concerned expression, Rory nodded, “my dad works for him” she said, Frank sighed, “eat your pancakes then we need to get back on the road” he said.

Frank pulled a navy blue sweatshirt out the back of his truck and walked round to Rory, “change into this, you got blood on yours” Frank said pointing to the blood splatter on the collar of the green sweatshirt Rory had on, she thanked him and took the hoodie, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head and handed it to Frank who was staring at her with soft sad eyes, her eyes darted to her bruise littered arms and she quickly threw the clean hoodie on and stared at the floor. “Hey” Frank said still staring at her arms, “who did this to you.”

#child reader #frank castle #marvel #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction

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creepycassidy · 2 years

Note

. I'm sure you can already guess who it is but I've come for your macready nectar bc you absolutely nailed his shitty personality <3 If you're willing to write more for him, I think it'd be interesting to see how much he changes after the film; assuming he lives at all

I hope you don’t mind, I wasn’t sure if you wanted a one-shot or HCs so I decided on headcanons!! I personally think that he or Childs didn’t live after the events of the film, but for the sake of this I think it would be interesting to explore. :) if you’d like more, or specifically a one shot based around these, don’t be afraid to send in an ask. I hope you enjoy!!

R.J. MacReady Post-Film HCs

Warnings: Alcoholism, Depression, PTSD, Injury, body horror, just very bleak themes in general.

Read below the cut!! ⬇️

After He and Childs had been airlifted out, it was a miracle that Mac had survived.

Childs wasn’t so lucky, although Mac would say otherwise.

Hypothermia had set in and frostbite developed over several portions of his body by the time he was found.

He’s not really the same Mac that you knew and loved beforehand.

Please, stick by him anyway. Mac wouldn’t ever say it, but you make the unbearable days somewhat bearable.

He’s lost a couple of fingers and the toes on one of his feet along with the tip of his right ear.

The scarring on his face is the worst of it all. His beard does a good job of hiding a lot, but you can still see the red, deep pitted and bulging scars on his cheeks, lips, and nose.

Truthfully, he doesn’t know how someone as wonderful as you stands to look at it all. He can hardly look at it himself. All it does is serve as a bitter reminder of that shit-show.

His drinking habits have worsened, as impossible as that seems.

Even if you ask him to slow down or stop he doesn’t care.

“Well, I deserve a god damn drink, don’t you think!?”

There is always a flamethrower in the house. Always. Doesn’t matter how many years it’s been since the incident, he can’t just forget it that easily.

Anything can put him on edge, so you have to be careful.

He won’t go around dogs anymore. Alaskan Malamutes, of course, are the worst.

Mac let his pilot’s license expire long ago, he just doesn’t have the desire to do it anymore.

Most of his days are spent drinking and eating take out in front of the TV. Money comes in well enough by disability checks due to being diagnosed with PTSD along with the injuries.

Snuggle up to him for a movie, tell him you still love him/care about him. He won’t say anything, but you’ll know how it really makes him feel inside.

It’s obvious in the way he swallows around the lump in his throat, his jaw clenching up. Mac won’t let you see him cry, but if you look close enough you can tell how hard he’s trying not to.

The nightmares and night terrors are horrible.

You shouldn’t wake him up during them, so just let them pass.

The shit his mind conjures up in the middle of the night is enough to make him sick.

They always start out as relatively normal dreams, like waking up and heading to the bathroom. A scratchy throat, but nothing to worry about. He’d look in the mirror, opening his mouth wide to asses the damage in the back of his throat. His eyes would widen in horror as red, razor sharp tendrils clawed their way up his throat, ripping through his esophagus and suffocating him. The realization that he’d been infected the whole time with The Thing simply lying dormant inside of him would hit as his head began to pressurize. His eyes bloat, cooking in their sockets. Just like Palmer’s had.

That’s when he usually wakes up, right before he finally splits apart in a vermillion mess.

Sometimes he’s easy to console, other times not so much.

Just be patient with him. He’ll never feel like the MacReady he did prior to winter of 1982 but with your help he can have some good days.

Good days with laughter, board games, and all of the teasing and bullheadedness of the man that you remember.

#rj macready x reader #rj maccready #rj macready the thing #the thing #the thing 1982 #rj macready headcanons #headcanons #kurt russell the thing #kurt russell #anon request #request

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nelapanela94 · 2 years

Text

TW: Throat fucking, mild knife play, public sex, MDNI

Let's see what awaits you on your first day at work.

Light bulbs light up around the mirror, making your face pucker while your pupils shrink to the brightness. As your eyes dawdle over your scantily covered body, your cheeks slather with a deep shade of pink. You were right about the corset, your boobs threaten to pop out, your belly button full at display. The pleated skirt hardly shields your crotch, crisp air spanks your butt, and the thong is splitting you in halves.

It’s going to be a long shift, you sigh.

“Oh! Look at the new kitty Levi found.” A fake blond three mirrors to the left quips, a condescending smirk playing on her lips. “Bet she won’t last a night here.” The lipstick bar cracks from the shell, and she leans in, gliding on the cheap whore red on her poisonous mouth. You can hear the rattle of her tail. When Botox-filled lips stick out, she pecks her reflection and leaves the staff room.

“Don’t listen to her.” The girl from the right startles you, and you turn to her. A beautiful brunette with green cat’s eyes curling her wild hair. She must be a favorite here. “She’s just jealous because you’re Levi’s new toy.” You gulp. That doesn’t sound like a prize at all.

You open the drawer of your vanity and your hand travels to the crimson red lipstick and the black eyeliner. “Can you help me with a Smokey eye?” You timidly ask Micaela, her name flashing in the tag hanging from her collar.

“I think you should aim for a more innocent look.” She winks. “Light eyeshadows, blush on your nose and some freckles. You’ll have them at your feet.” Her eyes scoot to the red bracelet on your left wrist, and a playful smile curves on her lips. “It seems you’ll be on your knees all night.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Red means your pussy and ass are safe.” She draws an ocher line in the inside of your lower lid and crisps your lashes. “You got the piercing, didn’t you?”

You gulp, again, and nod.

The nude lipstick feels like butter, and you purse your lips to even it. Then, you take a glance at your reflection. “Wow” You could pass for a high school girl.

“Let’s go. Levi loathes tardiness.”

Your stomach begins to churn, you feel the acids sloshing to your throat.

You don’t know what to expect down there.

Actually, you do know. You signed in for this, you read the bright red lines in the contract: open to stripping in public, gangbangs, milking, DP, anal, oral, and so on.

You witnessed it when you clocked in. Your coworkers bent down and rammed from behind, guys taking turns one after the other, not giving them respite.

You close the door behind you and pull out your best cajoling smile.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” The guy cast a winning grin, the coffee spoon coaxing whirlpools in his cup. Then, silver clanks against the saucer.

You place down the tray of biscuits, mentally cursing at your fumbling hand. “First day?”

“Am I that obvious?” You smile back. This one has his hair licked back in gel. He leans in and perches his chin on his steepled hands.

“I guess I’m your very first customer then.”

“You are.”

He curls a finger towards himself, and you reel to him, his mouth lingering on your ear. “Get on your knees and blow me.” He whispers in that deep voice that surges straight to your cunt and gets you all wet.

“Strip down too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your hands travel to the knot that keeps your corset in place. The uniform is designed easy on/easy off, though once off no one would ask you to put it back on again. Your eyes darted around the place, the baristas diligently filling trays on the counter, one girl on the furthest table rammed by two guys at the same time from behind while she wipes the tea spills from the table. All the girls are dressed, not fully though, some have already discarded their underwear, but they had something covering bits of skin.

Another ravenette ducks in the booth. “A cute one, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You can use her once she’s done with me.”

“Too bad we can’t use all her holes at the time. Maybe next time.” Your stomach flips upside down. Your shaky hands pull at the cord and the panels open, a rush of blood and air filling your chest. The two Levi’s slouch back on the seat, sipping tea in an odd way as their eyes take in your exposed breasts. The temperature suddenly drops five degrees.

“Pretty tits.”

“Agree.” They exchange glances and grin as if they could read each other thoughts.

“Come here, kitty.” The new Levi beckons. You push the table aside to make room and steer before them. The empty cups clatter on the wood, and at the same time, they take your nipples in their mouths. “Ah,” you gasp, and your shoulder blades tug back. One biting, the other rolling his tongue on your nipple and your brain tries to focus on the two different sensations, rippling waves of pleasure from your tits straight to your clit. Fuck, if it wasn’t for that piercing, you would have someone playing with your pussy right now.

You toss your head backward, letting out ribald mewls as those two devour your breasts. One unzips your skirt, and it pools at your feet, the other pulls away and mocks, glancing at the glistening spot on your crotch. “Look at how wet she is.” Cool air kisses your other nipple. That Levi leans in and dives his face between your legs, sucking in a long whiff. “Sweet.” He mumbles to himself, and the other Levi pushes him away to corroborate himself.

Two pair of dull gray eyes stare at your self-conscious gaze. “Have you ever been taken at the same time?” The one from the right asks, and you shake your head. The one with wavy hair falling like a mop grabs your hand and drives it to his mouth, pressing his lips on the red bracelet. “Let us be your firsts. You’ll love to have two dicks inside your pussy.”

“We’ll be nice.” Your eyes dart to the horse-licked Levi, and you catch the shiny red object with a tiny silver cross engraved. He flicks his thumb and the blade pops. Your legs are shaking and your arousal rising.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you comply.

“Relax,” one hand roams down between your thighs. “We won’t hurt you,” and then is when the icy blade slips under the thong, pulling it toward his face, the strain splitting your slit and pressing your pierced clit, the stinging pain flaring your insides.

You bite your lip to push away the pain between your legs, but he twists his wrist, and the tapered edge shears the lacy fabric. “Let’s take a look.” You swivel around again, the long thread hanging between your thighs. The blade nips your hipbones, one after the other, and the last sheared piece joins your skirt on the floor.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”

It has only gone fifteen minutes since your shift started, and you’re the only person in the salon completely stripped down, prying eyes coming from every angle. You still can run out.

But you’re not a quitter.

And you fucking need the money.

This gig is better than losing a kidney.

Lips, hands prodding.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, and give in to the pleasure.

“Slow down, sweetheart. You’re going to choke.” The corners of his lips swerve up, causing the other Levi, the one with his jeans and red boxers piled next to him, chuckle lightly. His curls glued to the sweat on his forehead. The Levi, whose cock is buried down in your throat, had heedfully folded his khaki slacks and underwear. These two jerks better tip you well, you’ve been scraping your knees and sucking cock for an hour already.

Is come rich in proteins? Cause is the only thing you’re going to be fed tonight.

You glare at the man through beaded lashes, tears burning in your eyes and spilling down in rivulets on your cheeks, converging on your chin and dripping down between your bouncing boobs, meandering down your navel until they melt in your swollen folds. This is so humiliating, and yet your inner slutty side loves it. You love the way they gaze at you, eyes clouded with lust and hunger, the way they desire you, they way they use you. At the end of the night, they could bundle you into a dumpster and you’d thank them.

You crave those dicks splitting your pussy in halves, damn, what would it feel like to have two cocks jackhammering inside you?

You feel as if you would combust at anytime, this whole situation is too intense, and yet you know it’s a calm night. Your body is on fire, heat bursting from your belly and spreading in all directions.

“You’re such a beauty.” A fingertip strides along the crown of your head, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “So eager to please.”

“Yeah-Ah-Ah.” Those hips slam relentlessly into your face, his pubes lashing and pricking your cheeks again and again until, with a shuddering thrust, he explodes into your mouth, his bitterness crashing in strings, and you drink to the last drop. You hollow your cheeks, slurping around him as his cock, deliberately slips out of your mouth.

Panting, he flops and sags into the cushioned backrest and wipes his forehead. His baby blue button-up shirt is mid opened, drops of sweat glint, sliding down on his thick chest.

“My turn,” the other Levi chides, heaving on his feet, his fingers diving into your hair, and he clenches his hand, tossing your head to his already engorge length, marked down with your lipstick. “Open up big.” And between your O shaped lips, he disappears.

After two sessions of blowing them, you just couldn’t keep the lead, and now they’re using your mouth as a fuckhole, pounding into you and boasting in their unbridled levels of stamina.

“Isn’t she a pretty kitty, drooling on cock?” The light blue Levi coos as he comes back to his senses, hand resting on your cheek, patting gingerly. Then his hand makes its way to your breast, the pads of his fingers grazing on your pebbled nipple. The pleasure boosts, coursing though your body like lightning bolts. You’ve never been aroused this much in your life, the string of juices dribbles past your midthighs. You could get addicted to this feeling, strangle your fears and pudency and feel, feel, feel. Let the pleasure scorch every inch of your body.

Sweat trickles the sides of your face.

Levi’s tea shop seems like a depraved place where the kinky wealthy men, those who have nothing else to squander their money on, and girls like you in desperate situations, who would sell their souls for coins, coincide. Them eager, and you willing for perversion. A win-win game. But there are rules, Rules, and they have to abide by them. Levi the boss penalizes those who don’t play according to them, ad if they harm any of the girls, the customers get a lifetime ban.

That’s what Micaela explained. “Don’t worry about bottles in your pussy, they can only use the toys the shop provides.”

That eased your nerves just a bit.

The room becomes fuzzy, and stifling, the stench of alcohol is dank in the air. Moans, and whines and cries mingle, composing an obscene melody, porn movie worthy. Your eyes are leaden, your jaw cracked impossibly wide it might stick in that position forever.

“Hey, sweet pie,” red shirt Levi tousles your hair. “It’s not polite to be distracted,” he squints his eyes and clasps his hands on your face, shoving himself further in. You whine around his cock and bob your head obediently, squeezing your eyes, picturing the good tip this asshole would leave. He must. Your tongue swirls around, putting careful attention to the tip, wrenching out cute grunts from him. He tosses his head back, lurching his hips forward. You can’t blame him, though, he was right, you’ve been spacing out for the last thirty minutes, swimming in the sea of thoughts while they’ve taken turns to fuck your mouth. His fingers curl in your hair, tugging you closer to his crotch, filling your lungs with his scent of musk and soap.

It's your first night, and it will be a long one.

Your knees mar on the white marble floor. Your body is drained, it surely will ache tomorrow morning, and the thrill to discover what you’ll be up to next is consuming you.

You can feel his warm spurt rolling down your throat, and another hand threads in your hair.

One cock out, and the other one in.

Two Levi’s looking at you as if you were their most precious pearl.

#Levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman/reader #levi ackerman/you #Levi ackerman attack on titan #levi aot #levi attack on titan #aot #attack on titan #snk #snk levi #aot Levi

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nightmarebeforechtistmas · 4 months

Text

“I’ll take care of you, Alex.”

“It’s rotten work.” Here they pause as silence engulfs the two of them. Their heart thud thudding in their ears as they wait. For Aiden to agree and finally leave as they’ve been predicting for months now, or for the flippant dismissal of how it’s no work at all. A statement that will sit, hallow and ringing in their head for the next week, but won’t settle solid in their bones ever. Looking up they catch Aiden’s gaze, gentle and focused on them.

“You’re right,” He says. A lump forms in their throat and they’re chewing on their cheek to keep tears at bay. Finally, finally he has agreed and now he’s going to leave. “It’s no fun getting up at 2 am to drive you to an emergency room and wait there for four hours before getting told to go home. I don’t enjoy cleaning a massive pile of dishes in the sink because you’re struggling to get out of bed, much less do dishes. There’s nothing enjoyable in talking you through an anxiety spell that’s got you barfing in the toilet and trying to not do the same at all the sounds. I can’t say it’s exactly fun.”

They look to their hands then. Chapped with bloody cuticles, nails chewed to the quick. They clench them white knuckle tight, to hide the trembling as they await the final goodbye.

Instead, the couch cushions sink under them as Aiden scoots closer, the foam redistributing its upward force for the new weight distribution. An elbow playfully nudges them.

“But I’m still here. And I will be still here the next time you expect me to leave as well. Because if I’m not who’s going to ask the nurse to switch the tv channel to fake Jeapordy or know that the easiest way to get you to stop spiraling is to debate 90s grunge song lyrics.”

“So, pity.” The word tastes bitter and sterile, a mouthful of disinfectant.

“Like Hell. Pity is giving you the last Poptart because you’ve been whining about not having any sugar all day. Pity does not cause me to stop work in the middle of the day to talk you down when you’re hyperventilating and sobbing.”

“Then why are you here? I’m just a burden!”

“Sure, but so is everyone else, Flibgibet.” They stared at Aiden then, their face scrunching in incredulity at the nonsense word. Their friend fought back a smile, eyes gleaming and body leaning in like he’d just told the best inside joke. Laughter broke the silence this time. “Everyone is a burden and everyone is work. Socializing is hard. We don’t choose friends cause they’re easy, but cause it’d suck to live without them.”

“But I have to be harder than everyone else.”

“Ah, shooting for first place. Just like usual.” They glared then. Aiden shrugged and leaned back into the couch. “Sure, if that’s what you want me to say, then sure. You’re more work than everyone else. Happy?”

“Why do you stay?”

“Because it would suck not to have you around and I’m not looking for someone else who is you that is not you. No one else has the same way of rambling on about video games like you. And no one else has the same love for 3 legged cats that you do or is able bring such creepy scifi monsters to life with some bolts and rods and raspberry pies. Because I’d rather be sitting with you, crusty eyed from lack of sleep, getting sent home by the doctor with a handful of pills rather than sitting alone wondering if this time it’ll be something more serious. Because you’re my friend and I love you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Yours is the work I want to do, it doesn’t always have to be fun, but I would rather be here. I choose your work, not someone else’s.”

#a little ramble #random thoughts #friendship

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 5

Summary: A very special dinner brings a very special moment for the Darkling and his wife.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendoes, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

=================================

She felt caught in the riptide, finding it hard to stay upright. As the daughter of a general, Y/N had seen so many evils, so much hurt, yet she never buckled under pressure.

Staring at the empty spot beside her, she laid there while battling shadows in her head. So filled with rage, she wondered who she’s becoming as a part of her longed to feel his touch. Perhaps he was right, she’s a foolish girl who is trying to win a game where the rules are nonexistent.

Having stayed awake most of the previous night, she didn’t expect trouble sleeping. With a heavy sigh, she abandoned the bed they shared – it felt too intimate to remain there now. They’ve only ever kissed and it was never planned nor did it happen in the very bed she felt is so incredibly vast, so lonely and cold when he didn’t stay there with her.

Pacing the room as she saw his shadow do the night before, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had trouble sleeping alone too. It was less than a full week since they married and she already cursed the smallest part of her that seemed to care for him.

Men are easy to love. A woman’s heart was made to care and love those near her. Mistaking love and trust is what a woman should never do. Love and trust are separate entities, one is given, the other must be earned.

Remembering her mother’s words eased her self-loathing. If she dared to love the Darkling, it wasn’t entirely under her control. Trusting him was different. She wasn’t as naïve as to allow the echoes of her heart dictate what her mind long acknowledged – he isn’t trustworthy.

And as the stars rise in the sky, she paced the room tirelessly. Arguing with herself, she paid no mind to the night sky she loved so much. If she had, Y/N might have realized a man with dark skies for eyes had trouble looking away from her shadow.

Exhausted, Y/N rose with the dawn. She had barely scraped up a few hours of decent sleep, tormented by his words even in dreams.

“Enter”, she yawned as Genya readily walked inside. The maids rushed to the bed, willing to change the bed sheets they couldn’t last time as Y/N had sent them away.

“Stop!” She exclaims as they reach Kirigan’s side of the bed, a slightly panicked look on her face relaying uncontrollable desires she had no chance of understanding.

Frowning, Genya licked her lips. While Y/N wasn’t sure what caused her outburst, she believed to know the root. “Leave us. You will be asked to change the sheets when Y/N desires it.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Genya mussed. “We have a dinner to prepare you for.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N managed a smile, briefly looking to Genya. “I’ll be alone which gives me a perfect chance to find new allies.”

Blinking fast, Genya’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure who could ally with us in the Palace. Everyone’s charmed by our General. If you’d just work with him, they would all be with you too.”

“He works for the emperor.” Y/N reminded her.

Running her hands through her hair, Y/N didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to tell him the truth. Her plans, her fight, it’s her life’s work. She came into that palace with intention of burning it down. The emperor must die and anyone else who’d fuel the flames of war must perish along with him. The war had claimed her mother’s life, of thousands of humans and Grisha alike, Y/N aimed to end it. And to end it, she had to destroy those who started it, those who refused to implement equality between species, as Kirigan called them. Humans and Grisha must be seen equally worthy, they must ally or they will be exterminated like vermin by surrounding enemies.

She grieved for her mother every day, even now as a decade had passed. Grief is really just love one cannot give to the other. It’s all the unspent love, gathering in the corners of her eyes, the lump in her throat and inside the hollowed heart that’s trying to beat in her chest. If her sorrow was but snow that could melt with coming spring, she’d shake it off her shoulder and be done with it. It doesn’t just disappear or heal with time, she could not just let it go and forgive. Y/N survived the loss of her mother by making a vow, one she was closer to fulfilling.

“Should I prepare your usual kefta?” Genya asked, holding the blue one over her forearm.

Shaking her head, Y/N turned to her with a smile. If she wants to succeeded, she must use all weapons at hand. Being the General’s wife is one of the weapons at her disposal.

“I was thinking about a different color for tonight.”

“How different are we talking?”

Smirking, Y/N’s eyes flickered to Kirigan’s kefta. “Black.”

“No one wears black but Kirigan”, Genya reminds her.

“Until he married. I believe I’m allowed to wear his color.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Genya sighed heavily. “Alright. As long as you allow me to make a few modifications.”

Anticipating the dinner, Y/N felt like a goddess in the kefta Genya had crafted for her. It fit her perfectly, adjusted just above the waist as it properly accentuated her curves. The closed collar wrapped around her neck, fallen stars creating a golden woven blaze as a necklace, while moondust adorned the long, skin tight lacey sleeves. The bottom acted as a floor length dress with a long slit revealing skin up to middle of her thigh.

Entering the room with her head held high and Genya on her hand, Y/N felt even more confident about the eclipsed sun stitched across her heart. It was bound to attract attention if the rest of her makeshift kefta inspired dress didn’t.

The moment she took a step inside, everybody’s head turned. The chatter died down, replaced by astonished gasps of pure awestruck admiration.

“I believe you’ve created a masterpiece”, Y/N whispers to Genya whose smile widens.

“You are what makes it so spectacular”, Genya winks.

“Don’t be modest. We both know it’s not in your nature.”

Giggling, Genya nods, “You’re right. I’m brilliant and this”, she steps aside to give her a once over again, “You are proof.”

Pursing her lips, Y/N felt her cheeks darken. Her plan was to draw attention so any potential ally she speaks to would be more inclined to accept her request, but she didn’t expect for everyone to stop and stare.

Tugging her by the arm, Genya pulled her closer. “You’ll never guess who is here”, she spoke in a hushed tone, looking to the left as the rest of the guests began speaking again and the music played softly in the background.

Following her line of view, Y/N’s heart came to a near stop as her eyes locked on his.

“Wasn’t he supposed to leave last night?” Genya whispers, but Y/N could hardly speak.

Breath caught in her throat, Y/N stared back at Kirigan who seemed to be just as breathless. She looked like a dream, a golden bird that carried all the happiness of the world on its wings.

“He didn’t”, Y/N looked away, knitting her eyebrows. “Why didn’t he”, she tried to finish her initial thought, but she couldn’t. If she spoke of the sudden ache that settled after the initial shock of his presence dispersed, she’d hate herself more. She’s weak if her feelings are hurt by a single night spent alone in a bed. She was certain now. She is foolish.

“You won’t be able to network tonight”, Genya’s frown made Y/N chuckle.

“You’ve been frowning so often since we met.”

Shrugging, Genya leaned in discreetly. “I can afford a few worry lines. I’ll just erase them later.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N smiled brightly. She would not allow Kirigan to dampen her mood. He can stay on his side of the room and she won’t spare him a single glance.

“I’ll test the waters”, Genya promised, “If I find anyone that we can work with, we can test their loyalty later.”

Glancing over Y/N’s shoulder, Genya’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Frowning lightly, Y/N glanced at what has her so perplexed only to huff in frustration.

“Black suits you”, the Darkling compliments her. Holding out a hand for her to take, he glances at his open palm before raising his brow. He’s challenging her.

Looking around, she realizes everyone’s waiting for her reaction. As he told her once before, they may not be a love match, but their arrangement must seem successful to the unsuspecting eye.

“Dance with me and pretend they don’t exist”, his voice softened and she couldn’t believe this is the same man who so cruelly baited her, branding her as foolish earlier. How can he act as if nothing happened when she was still reeling from it? Not that he’d know, she always put care in every move she made around him.

She placed her hand on the palm of his, holding her breath as she chained her gaze to the abyss in his. There’s no going back, she thinks, nearly shuddering as he places his free hand on her hip.

“I thought you were gone by now”, she mussed. Choosing to take control of the conversation, she kept her neck straight as it secured a proper distance between their faces.

“We had a slight delay”, he said, “I’ll be gone tonight.”

Humming, she swallowed thickly. Avoiding looking at others, she remained in a staring match with her husband.

“How did you sleep?” The Darkling smirked, watching her eyes narrow at him.

“Quite well. Did you enjoy sharing your bed with someone else?” While her voice seemed cold and unattached, her words were anything but.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?” Pursing his lips, he nearly laughed as she stepped on his foot. “I’ll take that as yes.”

“I’m merely concerned how it would look if word of you sleeping elsewhere got out. I prefer my pride and honor untouched and if you choose to find a lover, I should assume you’ll be discreet.”

Licking his lips, the great general didn’t laugh at her or sneer. There was no angry squinting or vile words. For once, he had a serious expression on his face that had nothing to do with the army or their arguments.

“I’m not the kind who would seek a lover while married. Even if the marriage is a mere arrangement.”

Scoffing, she clenched her jaw as he pulled her waist closer to him.

“How many lovers have you taken?”

He raised a brow, “That’s a horrible question.”

“Because you lost count?” She narrows her eyes, the lips he found himself so fascinated with formed a thin, red line.

He doesn’t respond, so she tried again, “Why have you not married before?”

Now he looked amused, “That’s even worse!”

Shrugging, she smirks, “Well, ask me a question then! If all mine are so awful, let me hear yours.”

“Do you think I’m a very good liar or a very unlovable being?” Slowly pulling her body flush against his, Darkling looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone and I’ve manipulated everyone who has fallen in love with me. So?” Inhaling sharply, he watched a disarray of emotions cross her face as he asked again, “Liar or unlovable?”

“A liar. Because you are lying, not just to me but yourself.” Her breathing is shallow, strained even. “You have a heart, General, but you’re cowering like a scared little boy instead of just facing the facts.”

“And what are those?” His voice is darker as are his intentions.

If they were alone, she was certain he’d be kissing her lips now. For some reason, it seemed he enjoyed their arguments. He liked it when she fought him almost like he didn’t know any other form of affection.

“That you care. You care and you hate yourself for it.” Stopping their dance, she managed a faint smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not spending my time waiting for you to accept it.”

Brushing his fingers across the left side of her face, he cocked his head ever so slightly, “Is it possible you’ve got this all wrong? From where I stand, you’re the one who cares – perhaps a bit too much? Let me remind you, this marriage is a sham. You are my wife, but I do not love you, I do not care for you and if you were killed right in this very spot, I would avenge you but solely for the arrangement to remain unsullied.”

Nodding, more to herself than him, she took a step back from him. For the first time ever, she drew back. “For once, we’re on the same page of the same book.”

The music stops. Looking to the man clinking his glass, Y/N’s lips part. She didn’t even realize it, but too often she entirely forgoes breathing in Kirigan’s presence.

Taking a deep breath, she nearly laughs. Kirigan…General…The Darkling. She even called him husband, yet she never even heard his first name. How odd is it to marry a man whose first name is a mystery to you, she thought.

“If you’ll excuse me”, she nods curtly without sparing him a glance.

Her seat at the dinner table was beside Genya, while Kirigan was placed all the way on the other side of the room. She smirked, satisfied she’ll have some peace during her meal. She never quite liked the table formation in a wide U form before, but she blessed the ones who created it on this evening.

Studying him from afar, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. It wasn’t some cosmic connection that she hoped she’d share with her husband, rather wishful thinking. Longing for him is out of the question. He may be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it’s not at all something she’d thank the saints for. If he were less appealing, she’d at least be free of torment his looks bring. The devil is real and he’s not a goat like man as humans believed. There are no horns, no tails – he’s beautiful, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.

“You’re staring at him again”, Genya speaks in a hushed tone, her smile audible.

“I’m not”, Y/N replies, “I simply looked over in a direction and he happened to be seated there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Genya raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Y/N asks, incredulous. “What look?”

“You have a certain way of looking at him”, she informs. Letting out an tired huff, Genya explains, “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at the night sky littered with stars.”

“So?”

Genya looks down before whispering, “You love night skies littered with stars.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N stared at her food for the rest of the evening. One bite after another and her plate was quickly emptied. Her stomach felt like it would burst, but she didn’t care. Most people claim they can’t eat under stress, but she was the opposite – her appetite only grew.

“He’s standing up”, Genya informed her and despite wishing she remained impassive, Y/N’s eyes shot up to where he was sitting.

With a lump at the back of her throat, she watched him as he headed to the door. A part of her hoped he’d be decent enough to bid his farewell, to acknowledge her at least. That part of her needed to be destroyed, she decided. It’s the part of her that would ruin her mission and for what? If she truly wanted to, she could have him on his back and under her. If she wanted him, he’d be hers – at least his body would. The principle she held onto was more important and so, she swallowed thickly and looked to her empty plate in order to stop her weakness from showing.

As she looked away, the Darkling looked back at her from across the room. He felt a strange tightness in his heart and once he saw she didn’t follow him with her gaze, his heart dropped. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kept his gaze on her for a while longer – her beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. White looked good on her, every color did – but black fabric hugging her curves could bring a dead man back to life.

With a heavy heart and frown etched on his face, the Darkling turned his back and left the room, the Palace, the strangest, most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on.

He carried her in his thoughts ever since. It aggravates him how quickly she’s gotten under his skin. Most of the month before their marriage was finalized was spent in petty comments about their armies or their distaste for one another. She was insufferable, maddening and entirely different from what he expected.

And yet, even then, the Darkling hoped she’d lose her patience and either leave or tell him she loves him. If she left, he’d be free of her and the shackles of an undesirable marriage, but if she told him she loves him, perhaps he’d believe her. If he knew there was ever a possibility of her loving him, he’d dare assume he might be deserving of love – because she may have dubbed him a liar, but he believes himself to be unlovable too. He never saw the point in allowing himself to feel a thing for her when it would be futile, wasted emotions on a woman sworn to hate him.

Once he was done chasing a rumor of a stag up north, the Darkling had to accept it too was a futile. Going after a legendary animal wasted so much of his time that he couldn’t even believe how foolish he’s become too. The stag must not be real after all.

Approaching Little Palace, he felt almost eager to run up to their shared chambers and see her. Even if she’d likely have a few choice words for him, he hoped he could make her blood boil just to hear her speak. He’d never admit it, but he missed someone he could converse with without dying of boredom.

“General”, Genya rushed to Kirigan who nearly growled at the distraction. However, Genya seemed distraught, panicked enough to draw his attention.

“Yes?”

Swallowing thickly, she wiped a stray tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s Y/N.”

His heart stops at the sound of her shaky voice, his jaw clenching before speaking. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“She went for a ride this morning and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Darkling’s gaze hardens as he grips Genya’s arms and shakes her lightly. “What do you mean?!”

“We sent riders after lunch, because I was worried she missed two meals already”, gasping for air, Genya’s tears made tracks, “The snow covered her tracks.”

She left me, he thought. She deemed me unlovable, unworthy. She left.

“They managed to find her mare”, Genya continues through tears, “It was decapitated and left in the woods.”

“Woods?” He frowns, wondering why she’d stray from the meadow and then he realized. He’s the one she rode into the woods with. She must have thought the woods were safe. They were at the time, only because he was with her and he’d never let any harm come to her.

“There were signs of struggle, but the snow is making it hard for us to track them.”

Releasing a visibly shaken Genya, he grunts. Biting his lower lip, he paced before her as his hand ran through his hair. She never saw him so worried, so mad before. He looked like a man walking a fine line – a line between madness and sanity.

“Call everyone”, he orders, “We must find her.”

Exhaling in relief, Genya smiled as Ivan emerged, having heard everything.

“Why would we do that?”

A pause ensues as the Darkling takes a step toward Ivan. “I haven’t made a promise in so long”, he spoke but in truth, it’s been hundreds of years since he made anyone a promise. “I promised her I’d protect her.” His voice was ragged, but controlled. “So I’m making a new promise right here, if they harm a single hair on her head, I will end them all. I will do it with a smile on face and I will bathe in their blood!”

They took her from him and he had every intention of ripping the world apart with his bare hands and for once, the thought of how far he’d go for that insolent woman didn’t frighten him. He barely knows her, he certainly doesn’t love her, but Saints help those who touched his wife.

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @astrosmayhem

Part 6

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone

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mydearfantasy · 3 years

Text

When they’re insecure 🖤

Characters: Diluc & Albedo

Summary: You’ve been hanging out with someone close to them and they begin to doubt themselves

Genre: Angst to fluff

Part two with Razor and Bennet coming soon :)

DILUC

For a man of many qualities, he was sorely lacking in social skills

It was truly a blessing that he’d managed to land such a sweetheart as you, your relationship in its early infancy

Kind, caring, beautiful, beloved by all... by all...all... by the forever nuisance in his life, his dearest brother

Many a night he watched the two of you laugh and joke in a booth at the bar. You had came to accomply him on his shift, but he was too busy dealing with all the customers to pay you enough attention, attention that kaeya had quickly taken for himself

Had he ever made you laugh so? It took him months to form a bond with you, had it taken Kaeya mere days? Were the two of you more compatible?

The already ever present frown grows deeper, scaring off whatever customers were present. Anger which was bubbling fervently inside him was soon replaced with crippling doubt.

You... you weren’t going to leave him, right? You’d spent precious moments together, moments that helped lift the heavy burdens of his ever present torments. The loneliness that he felt deep within himself dissipated whenever you were by his side... he couldn’t stand to lose you

He finishes his shift early that night, the unsettling feeling forming a pit in his stomach, deciding to leave without you, uncertain of what not so kind words would be directed towards his brother should be encounter him

Was he really going to lose you to kaeya?

Only several meters out of the bar, he hears footsteps rapidly approaching, he prepares himself to deal with whoever dared to make his night even worse

But it was you, an arm slipping into his, a look of concern plastered on you face

“Is everything alright? You left without saying anything.” He doesn’t have the heart to take his arm away, resigning himself to his fate. Perhaps... you’d be happier... with someone else. Even if that someone is Kaeya

What could be even offer you? Aside from gifts and riches. He was forever absent, awkward in conversation. He didn’t believe possess an ounce genuine charm, aside from his gentlemanly facade.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tentatively begins, already feeling that the end is in sight, “You looked like... you were having a good time. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Eyes downcast, he prepares himself for the words he says next “If...if there’s someone else you’d rather spend your time with... that’s... alright. I won’t hold you back. Please, do what makes you happy.” He truly only wanted your happiness... even...even if it wasn’t with him

You manoeuvre in front of him, clasping both of your hands in his, “ What are you talking about? Kaeya was talking about you! He was telling me what you were like as a kid! I couldn’t get anything out of you... so I thought I’d ask him!” A mischievous grin forming on your face, “He told me all about how you couldn’t sleep without your stuffed dragon, how you still couldn’t say spaghetti correctly until you were 15-“

You’re cut off mid sentence by his arms enveloping you in a bone crushing hug, immense relief flooding through him, smiling softly, you return the embrace.

You realise the reason for his actions, it leaves you feeling guilty inside. he was insecure. Scared. You’d do whatever you could to remidy it. “It’s alright Diluc, I’m not charmed quite so easily.” You whisper gently, wanting nothing more to comfort him and ease the guilt you felt for making him feel so troubled

Looking into his eyes, you steady his face against your palm, “You’re the only one for me. I assure you,”

He leans in, looking deep into your eyes for confirmation, that your word is pure and true.

Satisfied, he seals the deal with a soft kiss on the lips

ALBEDO

Truly doesn’t notice it at first

He trusted you, of course he did, so he didn’t think anything of you hanging out with Timeous

That is, until you were too busy to spend time with him

He took some time to relfect then, noticing that you spent time with him and timeous whenever you came to visit, offering him words of encouragement on his tasks when you noticed his struggles

An unpleasant feeling begins to rise in his chest. One that he has never felt before

He takes more time to confirm that’s what’s causing his discomfort, not wanting to act without complete evidence

He can admit himself that he lacks experience in relationships, often feeling uncertain about how to proceed

You always seemed happy. Eager to help him with his experiments, laying his head in your lap after a long day so you could read to him

What had went wrong?

He thinks for a long time, trying to find a cause and solution

Perhaps he hadn’t spent enough time with you. His experiments were time consuming, often not very interesting for those not involved in alchemy, had Timeous provided the affection you were in need of?

He decided the only way to remedy this problem was to approach you, despite the unfamiliar nerves rising in his chest

You’d already changed his life for the better, made his days even more exciting, finding new enjoyment outside of alchemy, to continue on without you... was that even possible?

Pouring steaming mugs of coffee for the two of you, he sets them on the table in front of you, greeting you with a quick hello, making haste, seeing no reason to delay dealing with the problem

He could always resolve problems, but, what if this was one he couldn’t? He tried to bury thoughts like those before they had a chance to rise to the surface.

Cool eyes regard you over the steam, suddenly unsure where to start. Setting the mug down, he begins. “Ive noticed that a lot of your time has been dedicated towards Timeous as of late. Being a personal friend of mine, It is easy to acknowledge that many are drawn to his kindness.” He watched your brows furrowed in confusion, mouth almost open and ready to rebute him, but he continues on. “ I want satisfactory experiences for both of us. For us to continue forward, I believe it would be best to address the problem at hand.” Now he felt the nerves rising, sticky and prickly in his chest. What words would he hear next? “I... want our relationship to continue past this. I do not think it would be pleasant... if it ended so soon. Whatever issue there is, I want to fix it. Together.” Now, the dreaded question, “...Why is Timeous occupying so much of your time?”

The question hangs in the air for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. Had he felt like this for a while? Scared as to why you weren’t spending time with him?

You reach out, sensing the implications behind his words, clasping his gloved hands in yours, “You have nothing to worry about Albedo. Truthfully, you always looked busy. Concentrated. A little... tense. I didn’t want to bother you. I know how much you dedicate yourself to your craft, I didn’t want to distract you from that.” You smile sadly, realising you caused a problem as you tried to prevent one. “You’re the only one for me, I swear it.” Your smile picks up, hoping to comfort him,giving his hands a soft squeeze, “My chalk prince.”

A smile returns to his own face, relief flooding through him. “I’m truly glad of that. To proceed forward on this path without you... it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

You finish your drinks, hearts as warm as the mugs in hand.

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itsdanii · 3 years

Note

Kyahhh your rejecting you and regretting series is just so freaking good . Uhmmm idk if you are taking requests right now but can I please request for Ushijima and Kita?Thank you so much!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 4

one | two | three | four

Hey, bub. I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my works. Here's your request for the part 4 and final (as of now) part of the rejecting and regretting you series. Have a good day and stay hydrated! ♥️

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: semi-rude behavior (resolved), no cursing in this one because these men drink their respect women juice daily

ft. ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke

title says it all

Kita Shinsuke

Kita is your childhood friend

The moment the two of you were introduced to each other by your grandmothers, you instantly clicked

Same as through with him, you loved spending your time being productive and following a certain routine so it's no question that as you both grew up, you started gaining romantic feelings towards him

You've been thinking of confessing but never really had the chance because he was always busy with volleyball practice

So when you finally managed to get some alone time, you didn't hesitate to voice out your feelings, not knowing that the answer you're hoping for isn't the answer you're going to get

"You're staring again."

You snapped out of your thoughts when Kita stopped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied your face.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yes! I'm sorry. I was just thinking," you answered sheepishly while scratching the back of your head.

You mentally cursed yourself for spacing out on him. This is the only chance you're getting and you can't afford to waste it.

"About what?" Shinsuke asked as you both continued your walk on the way home since you only live apart each other. Plus, his grandma had always told him to never let you walk home alone especially at night.

"Huh?"

"You said you were thinking. About what?" Shinsuke gently tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, changing your positions so that he was closer to the road than you are.

You felt yourself blushing at the small gesture and looked at his hand that was still holding your jacket.

You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat and stopped walking, the act stopping Kita as well due to him holding you.

Kita looked at you worriedly and placed both hands on your shoulders, his head dipping slightly to get a closer look at your face. "Are you oka-"

"You," you answered without focusing your gaze to him. "I've been thinking about you."

When you felt him taking his hands off your shoulders, you immediately looked up. "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

The look he had is something you can't decipher but if you were to analyze it based on what you can see, it's a look you never wanted to see again.

Silence reigned the two of you, eyes staring at each other as if you're both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

"No," Kita said, breaking the silence. "But it's best if we don't discuss the issue any further."

At that, he faced forward and continued walking as if nothing happened but as you stared at his back, you realized that somehow, he knew what you were trying to imply.

And the sad part is that he chose to ignore it and act unbothered as if he didn't just indirectly broke your heart.

Once you reached your destination, you faced him with an anxious smile and Kita didn't fail to notice this, as well as your habit of shifting from foot to foot whenever you wanted to say something.

"I like you, Shin," you blurted out nervously, your heart beating erratically and your palms becoming sweaty. "I don't know when it started but suddenly, I just woke up and realized that what I'm feeling towards you is no longer within the range of friendship. It's something more and I just wanted to let you know."

"I am well aware of that but I'm sorry, y/n. I can't return your feelings."

You bit your lower lip to hold in your tears and as much as you wanted to shout at him to accept your confession, you can't just force someone to love you back because it doesn’t work that way.

"Geez, can't you even say it gently?" you said with a forced chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't hold any grudges."

You let out a sigh before looking up at him and Kita was surprised to see that there are no traces of anger. He expected you to lash out but it seemed like he was wrong.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" With that, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek before turning around to cross the road.

Kita could only stare at you as he watched you enter your household, your figure vanishing from his sight as the door finally closed.

Kita is a practical man.

He knows how to separate what is right from what is wrong.

Because of this, people often see him as someone who's perfect, sometimes even being compared to a robot due to his nature. But Kita is far from perfect, and he knew that.

Because as he laid in his bed that night, he realized that he just made a big, wrong decision, and he had nobody but himself to blame.

Kita didn't know if he should be happy or not. Actually, he should be happy. After all, he just rejected you and still, here you are, walking beside him as you made your way to school.

He kept glancing at you, observing wether you were pretending or not but he knew that it isn't in your nature to be a pretentious person. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve which made it too easy for people to read you.

"Ah, Shin. You don't have to walk me home later," you said with a sheepish smile. "My friend is actually going to walk me home so.."

"Alright. Be sure to send me a message when you're on the way home." Despite how 'normal' it sounded, Kita was actually feeling something unpleasant inside him. It was a feeling he was well aware of but had never experienced himself.

The day progressed fast. One moment, he was entering his first class and the next, he's already checking wether all the sports equipment were put back in their proper places.

As he walked out of the gym, Kita instinctively brought out his phone to check for any messages, yours to be specific.

"Ya alright, Kita-san?" came Atsumu.

Kita simply nodded and glanced at his phone again before keeping it, disappointment filling him as he realized that you're not planning to message him at all.

Without you to walk home with, Kita decided to join his team mates, yet despite the noise his team naturally carried, Kita's mind was still preoccupied.

He thought of how you must be doing or if you arrived home safely. He thought of how different the things would've turned out if he hadn't rejected you.

He thought of you.

"Isn't that y/n-san?"

Kita's attention immediately went back to Earth, his eyes following the direction Atsumu was pointing at and just like he said, you were indeed at the other side of the road, walking alone while hugging yourself as you shivered ever so slightly.

Without any words, Kita headed towards your direction and his team mates knew better than to interfere. After all, they knew their captain well. It wasn't that hard to notice how off he was today.

"I thought I told you to message me."

You gasped as Kita suddenly appeared beside you, draping his jacket over your shoulder which immediately surrounded you with his familiar scent.

"Sorry, I forgot," you said while tugging at the end of his jacket sleeves.

"Mhm, and you also said that your friend is going to walk you home yet I don't see anyone beside you." Kita said with a serious tone.

"About that..." You scratched the back of your head as you tried to think of any excuses but you knew that lying would be pointless.

"What if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, took advantage of you? You know I don't like you walking alone especially when the sun had already set yet you still did it. Why did you lie?"

You felt like a child being scolded by your mother but instead of taking it the wrong way, you knew that Kita was only looking out for you. It was just ironic that he broke your heart yet still showed his deep concern for your being.

"It's because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you finally admitted. "I just confessed to you yesterday and I thought thay maybe I might make you uncomfortable if I kept sticking beside you. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"What are you talking about?" Kita stopped walking and turned towards you. "You were never an inconvenience and will never be one."

"Sorry, Shin."

"No. I should be the one to apologize. I made a very rash decision yesterday and ended up rejecting you. I thought that having romantic feelings towards someone would just be a waste of time but I came to realize that it isn't a waste of time if its with you," Kita said with a gentle look on his face.

You didn't speak for a few seconds and just let his words sink in, a feeling of hope igniting inside you when you realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean that?" you asked hopefully.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Seeing you shake your head no, Kita leaned in to press his forehead against yours. "I like you, y/n."

You felt your heart beat picking up with those simple words and without waiting for anything else, you pressed your lips against his.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being the cousin of Tendou Satori had its perks

And one of those perks is the opportunity to see Ushijima everyday

You are only a year younger than them yet despite that, you get along with the team very well

After all, it had been a part of your daily routine to always visit the school's gym

What you didn't expect, however, was to fall for a certain captain

And you, being one of the most open and honest person, confessed the moment you realized your feelings towards him

And despite being turned down several times already, you still persisted, claiming that you'll do everything to make him fall for you

But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it just isn't enough

"Where's 'Toshi?" you asked Satori when you entered the gym, flashing a small smile to the others before sitting down on an empty bench.

"Talking to the coach." Satori looked at the plastic you were holding and grinned as he noticed what was inside. "Really, y/n-chan? You know that won't work on Ushiwaka, right?"

You just shrugged and placed the item beside you. "It's worth a try, 'Tori. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a reaction out of him."

"Y/n."

You looked behind you upon hearing Wakatoshi. "Hi, Toshi. Did you miss me?" you said and flashed him a bubbly smile.

"You always come here everyday. I do not see any reason for me to miss you," he simply answered before taking a seat beside you, eyes glancing at the carrot stuffed toy before focusing on the court.

Satori, who witnessed the whole exchange, just laughed at you, his eyes squinting as he clutched his stomach in tears. "Well, there's your reaction," he said while still catching his breath.

"You don't have to be so mean, Toshi." You pouted and handed him the stuffed toy you brought.

"What's this for?" he asked in slight confusion while examining the carrot you gave him.

"That's a gift. Haven't you noticed? Its been 8 months since I started courting you." You grinned at him.

"Oh? Y/n's courting captain?" came Tsutomu who was wiping his sweat with a clean towel, eyes glancing at the carrot before he exclaimed, "I want one too!"

"Have it." Your eyes widened when Ushijima handed the carrot stuffed toy to Tsutomu. "I don't need it, and please stop giving me stuff from now on. They are irrelevant."

"I worked hard for that! You don't know how much token I spent just to get that from the claw machine!" You frowned at Wakatoshi and took the toy from Tsutomu who's now obviously confused with what's happening.

"Then I'll pay the amount you spent. Just stop giving me random stuff from now on. I don't need them and I don't have any feelings for you," Ushijima said with a passive voice.

You bowed your head and Satori immediately panicked, his arm reaching out to you but you only recoiled. "You're the worst, Toshi!" you yelled at Ushijima before dropping the toy on the floor and running out of the gym.

All three of them were in shock at your outburst, completely not expecting you to say such thing. You've always been bubbly around them so hearing those words from you was something they never expected coming.

"I think you made y/n mad, Captain," Tsutomu said while picking the carrot and dusting it off.

"But all I did was say the truth," Ushijima reasoned out, eyes focused on Tsutomu who was now hugging the toy that was supposed to be his.

Satori just sighed and turned around to go back practicing.

"Captain?" Tsutomu muttered with a confused look as Ushijima suddenly took the carrot from him.

"It's mine."

For the sixth time of the day, Ushijima glanced at the closed door of the gym.

It had been almost a week and he haven't caught a single glimpse of you. No visits, no 'coincidentally' bumping on each other despite having different floor levels, nor surprised bentos. Nothing. It basically felt as if you don't exist anymore.

He doesn't even know why he seemed bothered with it. Wasn't it him who pushed you away? He should feel relieved now that you were no longer bothering him, right?

Then why did it felt like he was missing you?

"Y/n's not coming," Tendou said beside Ushijima.

"I know. They haven't been visiting lately." Ushijima stared at Tendou seriously, making the red hair chuckle before raising his hands up in surrender.

"I don't have any idea where y/n-chan is. Even if I do, my lips are sealed," Tendou said before making a zipper motion.

Ushijima sighed and looked down at the ball resting between his feet. "I don't like it when they're avoiding me."

"Hm, I can't blame my cousin for doing that though. They've been pining over you for quite a while now and each time they confess, you end up rejecting them. I guess yesterday was their breaking point," Satori explained with a shrug, "Maybe you got used to the feeling of them coming back everytime you reject them that you don't know how to feel now that they stopped chasing you."

"I..like y/n."

Just as he said those words, the gym doors suddenly opened. You entered with your usual bubbly expression, a wrapped bento in hand as you made your way to them.

"I noticed that you weren't carrying your bento awhile ago so I brought it with me," you said as you handed the bento to Satori, not even bothering to spare a glance at Ushijima who was intensely looking at you.

"Y/n," Ushijima said making you turn to him.

"Yes Ushijima-san?"

Ushijima blinked at the mention of his surname. He knew that it was normal for people to call him Ushijima since it was his name but hearing you say it seemed bothering for some reason. He was used to you calling him either Toshi or Waka-kun.

"I like you, y/n," he said without hesitation.

Satori facepalmed at Ushijima's straightforwardness. Deciding to give you both some space, he stood up and walked away with his bento, leaving the two of you to talk.

You sat down and crossed your arms over chest, body facing Wakatoshi as you waited for him to explain and apologize properly.

"I'm sorry for how I acted a few days ago, I was merely being honest that time, but now I realized that I like you too... and I also did not mean to disregard your efforts just to get Mr. Carrot," Ushijima said while slightly scooting closer to you, his hand obviously trying to reach for yours.

"You named the stuff toy Mr. Carrot?" you asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need it.."

"That was a mistake. Mr. Carrot is actually sleeping in my bed as of this moment." The side of Ushijima's lips curled up when you giggled, the sound making his heart race.

"I appreciate you trying to be nice to me, Toshi, but you really hurt me back then, you know? I even had to stay away for a couple of days," you said before looking down at your lap to play with your fingers.

Panic started bubbling up inside Ushijima at your sudden silence. Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he asked you carefully, "Do you still like me? I'm really sorry, y/n. I missed your presence inside the gym. It's not the same without you. It's been too... quiet. Please give me another chance."

You lifted your head upon hearing that, clearly not expecting Ushijima to say those words in almost a pleading manner.

Ushijima took your surprised reaction as a cue to continue. He carefully took your hand in his, his hand completely engulfing yours as he intertwined your fingers. "I won't be aggressive towards you anymore. I know you said you hate me and I'm not the best at this kind of things but for you, I'll try."

You pulled your hand away from him, only to quickly wrap your arms around him, the action obviously catching Ushijima off guard. "I never hated you, 'Toshi," you mumbled with your face buried to his chest.

"Does that mean you still like me?" He said as soon as he composed himself, an unusual soft expression forming on his face when he felt you nodding.

You felt yourself melting even more to his touch when he secured an arm around your waist. "I like you so much, 'Toshi," you said as you looked up him.

"I like you too, y/n." With that, Ushijima leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

a/n: lately, my mind has been filled with wakatoshi ushijima

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