#I hate how much I cry and how hyper sensitive the parts get and I hate this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apollotronica · 10 months

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I WANNA KNOW ABOUT BUWAN!!!!!! -⚡️

OMG OKAY BUWAN MY BELOVED im gonna split this up into like .. a wikipedia page sort of . so like early life how he got his talent etc etc :3 but fun facts come first.

fun facts!

likes: cats, whales, sleeping, people, eating, late night walks, sour-tasting things, trash tv, singing and dancing, dark, muted colors

dislikes: eggs, doctors and hospitals, loud sudden noises, being alone, expensive things, waking up early, paperwork, dogs

ethnicity: filipino !!

relatives: mother (deceased), father, brother (miko, 2 years younger)

early life!! (tw for child abuse/neglect, suicide, ableism)

buwan was very hyper-sensitive and imaginative as a child and was homeschooled until he was about 9, so he didnt get much social interaction aside from his brother who often didn't have the time to hang out with him, but his brother was very supportive and patient unlike their parents. their mother was immunocompromized and schizophrenic so she was bedridden most of the time. their father seemed to only care about his wife and paid little attention to the kids unless it was for chores for their mother. miko grew distant from their parents very early on but buwan kept trying to find ways to cheer his mother up (nothing worked, by the way. their conversations would usually end with a book being thrown at buwan or an uncomfortable silence). around when buwan was put into public school he started to have very vivid hallucinations and delusions, none of which were directly harmful or distressing for him, but when his mother found out she was enraged (you know, parents hate when their kids have the same "flaws" as them) and would call him into her room every day for lectures he didnt understand. when he could help it, though, after school he went to a friend's house (her name was mary!) for snacks and tea. along with miko, mary was one of the only people that supported and understood buwan. they gave eachother nicknames! buwan was "balyena" and mary was "tulipan" !!! though buwan's hallucinations weren't distressing for him, every time he went to bed he had a recurring nightmare of his mother killing herself and blaming him. they got to the point where he would wake up screaming and crying outside his mother's room without knowing how he got there. so every night he would stay up and meet with mary and they would vent their frustrations out by a small creek. he invited miko a couple times but he was too focused on schoolwork. on a day where miko was on a field trip and their father was on a business trip, buwan had gone to school like normal. mary wasn't there that day, but it was okay, because she was probably just sick, right? he had some spare change and would stop at the convenience store on the way to her house to buy her something sweet. when he got to her house, her mother answered the door with a panicked, crazed look on her face. she shook buwan, yelling in his face asking where mary was, what he did with her, she knew something was off about buwan, just look at the way he talks to himself! but buwan didn't really care about anything she was saying, because if mary wasn't at home sick, something was off. he shook her off and dropped off what he bought by the doorstep and started sprinting (or as close to sprinting as he could, every step he took he was heaving and coughing) to that small creek they meet up at every night. it was far from both buwan's and mary's house, so by the time he got there it was already dark. the creek was small, but there were certain parts which were deeper than one would expect--mary and buwan avoided those spots very carefully. in one of those spots was mary's body tied down to something at the bottom, probably a rock. there was a note by one of the drier spots, saying that she had done it herself and that as much as she liked hanging out with buwan, it was too much. but buwan barely processed any of that before he passed out due to overexertion, exhaustion, shock, you get it. it was still dark when he got back up, mary's body still floating (but slightly more decomposed) in front of him. he turned around and sprinted home because he had to tell someone, anyone, what happened. maybe his mother would finally sympathize with him, comfort him and tell him how good he was dealing with everything (he knew this was a stupid thought to think, but he thought about it nonetheless). when he got home, the only sound in the house was his dry heaving and relentless coughing. he searched the house for anyone, hoping that miko and his father had returned earlier than suspected, but he was alone.

guilt probed his chest when he remembered he was supposed to take care of his mother for the few days everyone else was gone, and he prepared himself for the lecture he was going to get as he opened the door to his mother's room. the tv was on--muted, but on--and it served as the only light source in the room. books, papers, medical equipment, and the like were scattered and trashed around the room. but buwan wasn't focused on any of that, because in the center of the room was his mother, arm bleeding (it seemed she ripped her IV out) and frail body suspended mid-air via a chord that buwan could only guess was for one of many medical machines in the room. buwan stood there, stunned and shaking, taking in the scene. what was he going to tell miko? his father? buwan was lightheaded and dizzy, his ears ringing so loud in his head he could barely hear himself scream as he dropped to the floor, his legs finally giving out under invisible pressure. he doesn't remember much, nor for how long he was screaming, but when he was shoved aside by who he could only assume was his father, it was midday. after that, he wouldn't talk at all (he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would just start screaming again) and his hallucinations disappeared. buwan's father admitted him into a psychiatric hospital miles away (the town they lived in was too small for a real one, the only "hospital" there was a check-up clinic) where he stayed for two years until he was 14. buwan remembers close to none of it, as the medicine they prescribed him made him spacey and disoriented. he wondered if this was how his mother felt, but the thought made him nauseous. buwan vaguely remembered miko coming to visit (never his father, why would he visit?), but he never remembered what he said to him. it only occurred to him what miko said every time he came to visit when he was suddenly discharged with miko hurriedly wheeling him out. buwan cried the entire ride home.

career!

most people thought of buwan as a dunce, slow, idiotic, stupid, so nobody ever gave him a chance to find something he was passionate about. everyone, save for miko and mary, thought buwan was going to end up exactly like his mother (except his mother had her masters in biochemistry, so he didn't know why people were comparing an idiot like himself to her). one day, when buwan was 15 and a dropout, he complained to miko about being bored. miko, knowing buwan better than anyone else (even himself, because buwan never had the time for self-exploration), suggested he take up studying a topic of his choice. buwan was confused at first, because nobody had ever suggested something like that to him (because knowledge was wasted on him, right?). it took a couple weeks of brainstorming, trying out random things (and immediately deciding they were boring, a waste of time, and/or too complicated. miko got a little irritated when buwan said it was too complicated, because miko knows buwan is capable of doing it. it just wasn't in his interest), and self-exploration before buwan brought up the topic of dreams. it was miko's turn to be confused, because buwan had so much trouble with dreams of his own that he wasn't sure it would work out for buwan. but buwan was oddly persistent (something miko wasn't used to seeing in buwan), so with some extra cash their father sent them, buwan enrolled himself into a course on the study of dreams.

fun facts part 2!!

buwan is a mean drunk and a lightweight

he hates eggs because one time his father made everyone scrambled eggs and some shell got in and cut buwan's mouth. also they smell bad

he eats a shit ton. like it doesnt matter if he just had a full course meal he could go for 5 more

his eyesight is horrible but he refuses to get glasses

the only thing that can make him cry nowadays is shitty slice of life romance anime

his name means moon !!!

hes 6'0" (183cm)

hes banned from at least 5 aquariums because he keeps falling asleep in them and tries to get into the tanks (he cant swim)

he talks very silly with a lot of vocal stims! ex: "i'm buwan parungao, prryon! i have a masters in neuroscience, prryon, and i specialize in oneirology! in fact, buwan is the best in his field, tick-tock!" he also says "sing-song" "tete" and "meow" (a lot of animal noises honestly.)

THANK YOU FOR READING !!!!!!!!

#☆ apollo answers #⚡️#artpollo #buwan parungao #apollos ocs

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silver-wield · 1 year

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Story time! I legitimately liked Clerith at one point. A LOT. I played the original game back in the day and I wanted to join the Clerith community. I did so on Discord and nearly instantly was put off by several things within the community, but I pushed it down and told myself I was overreacting. First, it was small things - like how they loathed Team Four Stars' parody videos because of how they treated Aerith. (1)

when in reality all of the characters were given shitty attitudes and backstories because ya'know it was a parody! It felt hyper-sensitive to me for no reason, so I kept it to myself that I loved the video series and went on. Next was how they hated Tifa and willfully misinterpreted canon and characters. Believe it or not I genuinely like Tifa - she's complex and has beauty and brains and brawn so I don't see anything to dislike. But I couldn't exactly say that to them, and any suggestion (2)

that Tifa was a good character got major pushback. I shut up. What really pushed me over the edge was one user I can't recall the name of so I won't guess, but she was a bigwig. I wanted to join a specific part of the Discord. It was advertised as "debate friendly" so I thought - okay finally here is my shot at speaking my mind while not being dog piled. I asked to join and she said basically she had to verify I was a real person so she needed my real Facebook. (3)

A little creepy, and a little odd I thought since I had been in the group for over a month and had caused no trouble (I learned quickly what was and was not okay to say) but I gave it to her anyway. Keep in mind I was a minor at the time. She came back to me and said "You look like my relative." This tells me she was snooping on my page since at the time my profile picture was actually my cat and any pictures of myself were buried some ways back. (4)

About an hour later she told me she denied my request to join because she saw where I had posted Tifa fanart months ago, and since my Facebook was only two years old (again, I was a minor and had only been allowed to get FB roughly two years prior to this) that she was convinced I was a troll. Insert youvegottobekiddingme. png here. I told her she was paranoid to which she went off on a paragraphs-long spiel about how the Clerith community has been prosecuted by Clotis for ages. (nearly done)

I eventually got tired and blocked her and removed myself from the group. Because of that, and another encounter I had much later (in which my sexual identity was mocked) and an encounter a friend of mine had in which she was goaded into crying over her dead husband when she dared suggest that even if Cloud did love Aerith it's cruel to want him to stay single and mourning for the rest of his life, I have thoroughly decided I cannot stand Cleriths. They made me dislike Aerith. (fin)

Sorry for the late reply, anon. I wasn't ignoring it 😅

Tbf I don't like Machinabridged either, but my response is to just ignore it exists. I don't think I've even watched the whole thing. I've never gone off at the team behind it, but then I rarely give a shit because whenever I do I get slammed by tons of people. So, always remember to never express an opinion that differs from the masses, but if you do express it don't expect anyone to be on your side even if they claimed to be your friends.

Yeah, asking for personal info is a huge red flag for me. Nobody needs to know that unless they have plans to use it against you later. That's why I never give out personal info to people. Cleriths generally use it to make sure people don't stray from their hard-line hating. "If you like Tifa, we'll tell the fandom who you really are" kinda shit mentality.

Honestly, it sounds like you were in the cult's discord. Those are things I've heard them do to people. They're legit terrifying en masse. I mean, most large groups are, especially when one person weaponises them against a single person. Fandom and social media shouldn't be a numbers game that people then utilise to push down those with lower numbers than them, but that's what it is.

What's funny is their behaviour makes people dislike Aerith, so you'd think they'd care about how they come across. But then again, they don't even like her, she's just a straw doll they shove in front of them so they can throw shit at people from behind her and then say she's the reason for their actions.

#ship war #for the fandom

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agentbloodlust · 1 month

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OKAY---"KIN" LIST (im defining kin as a fictional character i feel i embody in some major way and makes me feel seen by others. Also through which I can see myself as I have a difficult time with that as I have bpd among other things.

DEEP BREATH ...Okay. This might seem "cringe" or stupid but idc. It's a big deal for me to come out and release this list even to strangers.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Fox Mulder✨--The X Files

(Purest and parts of me I most strive to lean into. Also transboy. my crazy puppy dreamer energy to someone's skeptic down to earth anchor. ready to kill god and anyone who'd dare to hurt the ones i love and cant live without)

Tony Stark✨--You know who I am

(Aware of sins and ready to constantly improve and be better. Heroes are self made!! (built) He loathes himself AND loves himself. The cluster b is strong with this one. as well as cptsd and ocd. Specifically Sun armor. Blazing sunshine energy BOTTOMING AND SUB SPACE IS A NEED TO HEAL. DADDY ISSUES)

Will Graham✨ --Hannibal

(Hyper sensitive "empath" who struggles with mental illness and harmful urges. morally grey. morally good. morally bad. confused/hurt/gentle.)

Quentin Compson (male) --The Sound and The Fury✨

(first book character through whom i felt SEEN. he has MASSIVE ocd issues and the writing style for his chapters resonates with my soul. i was watching tokyo ghoul at the same time and "White Silence" the song makes me think of Quentin in a coffin covered in white flowers with white hair and I break down)

Naruto Uzumaki✨--Naruto/Naruto Shippuden

(hero's hero. he grew up with me and we are most alike in sunshine blazing personalities. Feel VERY DEEPLY and have deep trauma. anyone can change for the better--BELIEVE IT! Childish and loud. hyper with FEELINGS that sometimes get out of control and make us go ninetails mode. (intermittent explosive disorder) Which always end up hurting those around us even though we get that way in emotional responses to freak situations. "THERE ARE NO SHORTCUTS TO BECOMING HOKAGE"

Lestat de Lioncourt✨--The Vampire Lestat (book)/ AMC's show Interview With The Vampire

(The villain in me. The wretched creature. The lover. Absolute chaos. cluster B diva. The trauma. Needing to feel SEEN and fucking everything up over and over. Obsession. Self harm. Suicidal and homicidal ideation.)

Nora (with Weiss' trauma) (team JNPR) --RWBY

(Bright eyed. Motormouth. Random and hyper AF but like actually. Living your entire life with/for someone and needing to figure out who you are without them. Hitting things with a massive hammer. A hero. Lightning blaze heart. Will do anything for those she loves. just add in the song "The Path To Isolation" )

Spinell--Steven Universe Movie

(oh god. the villain origin story. worst fears being imagined. the annoying love bombing and wanting NEEDING others approval and constant attention. bpd. the scythe. the HEALING.)

Asuka --Evangelion/Rebuild

((MOMMY ISSUES TO THE EXTREME) bpd again. need to be seen by others in order to exist. without praise or what you crave from others you are nothing. you only exist through the eyes of others. self harm/ suicide attempt (bathtub scene) mind rape scene. trauma driving your entire life and still...still wanting happiness for people and yourself. not knowing how to express love. coming off as annoying and loud and weird and narcissistic and then laying there alone in bed crying about how much you hate yourself. and yet STILL being able to grow at the end and save the world)

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rainydawgradioblog · 4 months

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An Anti-Valentine’s Day Playlist

With a music scene over-saturated with love songs and the dreadful holiday of St. Valentine here remind to you of how in love each of your peers seem to be, an escape becomes necessary. Maybe you hate Valentine’s Day out of a spiteful cry against corporations repackaging love in the form of overpriced chocolate, maybe it’s for your lack of romance in your life, or maybe you are just a generally cynical person, but either way I implore you to explore the untapped market of temperamental women singing of their romantic droughts. It’s with a bleeding heart and an unfortunate craving for those pink artificial candies that I bring you a few comfort tunes on this day of love.

"Doll Parts" - Hole

Controversial or not, Hole is the epitome of the 90’s girl rock scene. For long time listeners, a Hole song on repeat this Valentine’s Day feels like the perfect full circle moment from getting called a feminist as an insult in middle school by Kurt Cobain diehards to now acting as a condolence song thinking about your still Nirvana-loving ex. Love her or hate her, Courtney Love knows how to sing a break up song - Hole’s classic rock sound with a dash of melodrama feels cathartic. Some day you will ache like I ache might be the most spiteful and poetic verse to exist in the history of the world.

"Casual" - Chappell Roan

Chappell Roan is the hyper-pop princess of your dreams - casual is off her very keenly named album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, full of campy ballads of love, sex, heartbreak, and guilty pleasures (also a great song). Casual reminisces on the pitfall that is the situationship, an abominable fate every college girl finds far too familiar. Her is it casual now quip to combat the dissonance of the emotional dependency and physical intimacy yet lack of substantial commitment within her relationship has a nice sting to it.

"How Can You Live If You Can’t Love" - Wednesday

If your feelings are a little more tender than vindictive this holiday season, the twangy, shoe-gaze esc band Wednesday may deliver you the cry you deserve with the absolutely gut-wrenching lyrics in this song.

Rooms would look much better if they had you standing in them, jealous of the rooms whose floors can feel your weight upon them.

Wednesday beautifully captures the angst of missing your special person to the core of their presence. To be envious of a floor is a sensitivity only something as powerful as love can evoke.

Called you on the road again to get back on my feet, the pain was kind of wonderful cause it was so complete.

The fresh wound of a break up before it heals from the passage of time is a pain that is uncharted territory for the young and in love (speaking from experience). The absolutely engulfing feeling of ache swallowing you can feel so crippling, but Wednesday offers a sort of romantic perspective that feels very touching - if she can make it through and look at her pain compassionately, maybe we can too.

"Your New Cuckoo" - The Cardigans

The First Band on the Moon album is one of the stranger sounding break up albums to exist, mainly because initially you would not think it was a break up album at all. Each song on the album is cleverly disguised as a love song and only upon further examination do you recognize and appreciate the irony behind each lyric. Lead singer Nina Elisabet Persson plays the persona of a helpless, lovestruck girl pining after a lover who wants little to do with her. Each song holds a desperation that is almost comical as throughout the album she proclaims time and time again the grip her lover possesses over her while simultaneously declaring he holds no thought for her in exchange. Any song off this album would be quite fitting, but I generously chose the most fun one - Your New Cuckoo is dance-worthy, delusional, and a lovely listen.

"Pink in the Night" - Mitski

The hopeless romantic of a generation. Mitski offers her condolences for a heartbreak by singing of the maddening obsession love elicits - she is the muse of desperation. Pink in the Night sings of the regret of everything in hindsight, the desperate plead to try again for this time you’ll do it right. Mitski understands and empathizes with the ugly truth of intimacy; can you love me despite myself? Her love is bewitching, all encapsulating, but great art was not made by people who did not display grandiose gestures of love (I think I heard that in a movie once).

I hear my heart breaking tonight. Do you hear it too?

"Valentine" - Fiona Apple

This one might be a little too on the nose. Fiona Apple is notorious for singing the blues with a sort of ‘fuck you’ kick that lacks no emotional depth. The distain in which she sings I love you packs a hearty punch, singing of the feeling of betrayal whilst betrothed to an aggressive yearning for what once was. Her devoted cult following only builds her repertoire of being an irresistible listen.

"I Know" - Fiona Apple

It would be a crime to only include one Fiona Apple song. Fiona Apple, in all her infinite wisdom, possesses an entire discography suited for an anti-valentine’s day mood, yet I Know especially stings. Beyond the heartbreak or the longing, the anger or the regret, the most difficult part seems to be accepting your fate - to not be loved the same way you love. For isn’t that the end of every relationship? Unrequited love?

Happy Holidays.

xoxo

gabi

#Spotify

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oneofthosesimps · 3 years

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Dance With The Devil

pairing: sukuna x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 3286

summary: sukuna's wish is a new heir and you are the perfect vessel for it

warnings: mention of blood, rough sex, dirtytalk, breeding kink, hurt, angst, swearing, sub x dom, dumbification, size kink (like sukuna is a monster and you are small and petite), belly bulge, lactation/ milk kink (i guess)

authors note: sukuna is the perfect canidate to realise my really dark and deep fantasies, which is why he'll be around more often now (he's also SO hot omg)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

xquesess

-----

You let yourself fall against the big, strong body behind you. Your hot skin meets cold flesh and you close your eyes at the pleasure of the small cooling. You feel as if your body is on fire. No, as if the whole room is on fire.

"Eyes open, little human," his deep voice vibrates against your back and your eyelids flutter open instantly. You see his wide grin above you and you groan as his grip on your hips tightens and he holds you in place above him. You see the dark shadows his huge hands have left on your thighs and waist.

"I'm tired," you moan and rest your head on the back of your neck, closing your eyes again. The sun of the night has long since taken its place in the sky and casts its bright rays into the small room, bathing you and Sukuna in them. One of his hands grips your neck and straightens your head. Your eyes open again. "We are far from finished, so keep your eyes open," he murmurs against your ear, "If I have to ask you again, I will break your neck." A shiver runs down your spine and despite your heated body, goose bumps cover you. A little fear mixes into your bloodstream and makes your heart pump harder and stronger in your chest.

"And I would hate to do that. It's rare to find something like you". You moan loudly as his lips settle on your neck and he lets you sink lower on top of him. The sensation mingles with the pain of his teeth digging into your neck. His teeth break through the skin and you slightly wrinkle your face before he licks over the slightly bleeding area. You hear a soft murmur as his tongue collects a drop of blood and it disappears into his mouth.

"You think it's that easy to get you pregnant, little human?" His fat, monstrous cock bores painfully deep and you whimper. His grin widens even more and his teeth flash. You make a grimace as he shoves himself too deep inside you and touches your cervix, pressing against it. Your image blurs slightly and thick tears roll down your cheek. The hand around your neck loosens and he wipes them away, his nails scraping lightly over your soft skin.

"Don't cry, little one. You're doing so well. No being has lasted this long before," he murmurs as more tears come, which he wipes away, “They all cracked on me before I ripped their hearts out of their chests. But you are different, you don't make me bored.”

"You're so big," you moan and your legs begin to tremble as he lowers you all the way on top of him and your little cunt swallows his cock whole. Your insides tear and burn. You feel as if your soft walls are being overstretched by his hard length. "No, you're just far too tight and small."

The hand on your hip moves to your belly and caresses it. "Look at this: My cock just barely fits inside you". Your tired eyes catch your gaze in the mirror opposite you. Sukuna has set you down on your bed specifically so that you can watch yourself- so that you can watch him fuck your belly round. You look at your reflection in the mirror. Your small, petite body is sitting on Sukuna's lap, your legs glistening with wetness close to your core, hang splayed in the air over his knees, giving you a perfect view of your cunt and your head leaning just below his chest. It looks ridiculous. You look like a little doll compared to his gigantic body.

His white teeth and red-pink eyes sparkle at you as he wraps his strong arms around you. The moon from outside gives an even stronger contrast between light skin and deep black tattoos and his veins snake along his muscular body. There is a distinct, long bulge on your belly that starts above your cunt and ends just below your belly button. Your face looks up at him in shock and he laughs softly again, "Didn't I tell you?" His hand strokes the bulge and massages it, making you moan. "Doesn't it look good when I'm this deep inside you and your belly is bulging."

His hands go around your waist again and he starts to lift your body up. His cock pulls out of you, leaving him almost white, coating him in a mix of your juices and his. A loud moan comes deep from your body and your hands claw into his thighs. Your body is overwhelmed with exhaustion mixed with pleasure and pain - a diabolical one. Your cunt feels sore from the many times you have come and now his way too big cock doesn’t make it better.

"I can't take any more," you sigh, but Sukuna overhears your words, pressing himself back into you to the hilt.

"Yes, you can. You must, little human." At the stimulation inside you, your eyes turn and your body trembles slightly, "I will pump your cunt full again. This time, I will breed you."

His eyes fall on your face in the mirror. You look so beautiful in the moonlight. Your lips are slightly parted, your eyes slightly closed and there is a deep blush on your cheeks. His gaze travels over your small body in his hands, your nipples standing hard from you, the dark marks on your body, your slender waist that he can so easily break if he squeezes too hard. His eyes drop to where you are joined and a dark sound comes from his throat. "Look at how greedy your cunt is. And that's after you've come so many times today," he grins widely and digs his nails into your flesh, "You're lying, little one. You want more, don't you?" Sukuna changes the angle and presses against every sensitive spot inside you. Your back pushes through and you try to gasp for air and not pass out as he moves inside you with ease. His arms hold you close to him as he closes his eyes in pleasure and rests his head back.

He increases the speed and you whimper loudly, moaning his name. His head rises and his gaze falls on you again, "You want more of my juice. You want my babies." With hard thrusts he presses into you, over and over and you scream sinfully. Your nails pull at his skin, leaving deep marks.

"Too much, too much," you scream, tears running down your cheeks again. Your whole body feels sticky from your sweat, tears and his juice, some of which shimmers on you. Sukuna rams his lower body against you without even being out of breath. His endurance is incomparable. His strength is incomparable. He could and would do anything to you, if only you weren't so damn fragile. Your body is on fire, your nerves are tingling and your lower body is radiating a pleasantly warm feeling that cannot be put into words. It is getting stronger and stronger and you feel the need to help yourself with your own hands to come to an end. Your breath and voice become more panting, "I-I'm about to come."

"Silly little human, can't you hold back," he grins, ignoring your whimper and the shaking of your body in his arms. He continues to watch his fat cock disappear inside you, while you spill out and leave a wet spot on the floor. The knot in your stomach grows stronger until it finally loosens and you gasp, floating above it all. You're aware of Sukuna growling behind you as your walls pulse around him, making you tighter than ever. Nothing is as good as the orgasms he gives you, making you high. And as usual, you roar your heart out, preaching his name, before your wings leave you again and your weightless body hits the earth hard. This orgasm and the ones before are not as long and good as your first ones this night. Your pussy needs a rest and you need sleep, but you know you won't get it anytime soon. Your cries and pleas are music to Sukuna's ears and he wants to hear his name from your mouth again and again. You are hyper-sensitive and scream loudly as Sukuna continues and does not stop fucking you. The smacking of your cunt as it sucks his cock inside you mixes with your croaking voice as you wiggle back and forth in his arms, trying to escape his grip, which will always be in vain. Saliva runs down your chin and drips onto the floor.

"And another one," he murmurs in your ear as thick tears run down your cheeks again. "How many times do you think I'm going to make you come tonight?" He licks over the aorta at your neck as your cries slowly subside and fade back into whimpers.

"I can't take any more," you whisper weak.

"That's what you just said," he laughs, and his right hand drops between your legs, lightly caressing your swollen clit. You wiggle wildly back and forth and try to get his hand off you. The sensation is too much and you feel as if you are about to faint as you break apart in his arms. It hurts unpleasantly badly and you can't think straight. He continues stroking until your breathing becomes heavier again and you moan slightly again.

"You know what we're doing this for, don't you, little human?" You gasp for breath as his angle changes slightly again and he presses against your G-spot.

"Tell me, what are we doing this for?"

"I-I ... I ... c-can't..."

"You can't? Of course you can, try a little harder," he smirks and circles your clit harder, pressing against it and your walls twitch, tighten again and it feels like you're crushing him. He moans into your ear. Was there a better feeling than fucking his little human? Probably not. Fucking you silly and stupid was his favourite thing to do.

"Y-You want to ... make me ... pregnant."

"Right, I want to breed you. You are mylittle whore. I'll fill your hole over and over again until your belly is round and fat." You moan at his words.

"You will look so beautiful with my heir in your belly. I can't wait until your tits are dripping with milk in them," he murmurs against your neck, looking at you in the mirror. Your gaze meets his. "I'm going to milk them like your cunt is doing to my cock right now." His nail scrapes lightly across your clit and you explode, this time without warning. His laughter fills the room as you fall against him again and come down from another high.

"And you said you couldn't take any more." His body vibrates with more laughter and you close your eyes, much to his displeasure. He sighs and looks down at you, clearly seeing your exhaustion, while your breath changes and the wrinkles on your forehead smooth out. His thrusts stop and he licks his lips. His hand drops to your cheek and caresses it lightly. If his heart wasn't dead and cold, it would be doing a little leap right now.

Sukuna has long since ceased to understand the emotions felt by those around him; his time as a human was too long ago for that. But he sees in you how one behaves when one is in love, when one would do anything for someone, and he thinks he feels that for you, even if he cannot express or name it. No one has ever lived by his side for so long. Any other person would have been killed and replaced by him by now.

He lays you down on the bed behind him and examines your skin, which is covered with numerous wounds. His hand strokes your thigh, his nails scratch your body and he bends over you.

His eyes caress your face. Your hair is slightly sweaty on your forehead, the lashes of your closed eyes cast shadows on your cheeks and your full lips are red and swollen. His thumb strokes your cheekbone before his flat hand slaps lightly against your cheek. With a shock you wake up and look at him. He grins broadly, "You're lucky it's you, that's why I'm not breaking your bones. I’d think you were too bored and I wasn't challenging you enough." His left hand on your thigh wraps your leg around his waist and his cock pushes between the lips of your pussy, spreading them wide and he pushes into you again. You whimper under him and squirm slightly.

"Mmm, are you bored? Am I not fucking you enough?" You stare at him, startled, and shake your head before your back pushes through to him and you moan. He picks up his pace from a moment ago, burying himself inside you. His eyes rest hungrily on your tits, which jiggle up and down in front of him. He licks his lips before lowering his head and his mouth wraps around your left nipple. You moan louder as he sucks hard and his tongue plays around it. He looks up at you, "I'm so happy when they're heavy and full of milk. I'm going to suck on your tits and drink it. You will taste so good." You roll your eyes at his words, your hands reach into the sheet beneath you and you claw into it. He bites your nipple far too hard before releasing it with a plop. Your dry voice croaks more than you cry out and you pull at the sheet to get rid of your pain - unsuccessfully.

"Su-Sukuna...," you sigh loudly at his hand around your leg tightening. He holds his face right above yours and four eyes look at you, examine your reaction as he fucks you in the mattress. It's time for him to finish this round.

"I'm filling you now, little human," he murmurs and hot breath sprays around your already overheated face.

A deep thrust and he presses against your cervix again. Your lips open and your eyes turn back. He laughs softly, "You look so terribly stupid and pathetic. There's probably nothing left of your already small brain." Your head doesn't notice his words, you are far too drained. His laughter turns into a grin again. The hand around your leg loosens and he places his thumb on your clit.

Another deep thrust and your insides are on fire with pain. Your tongue drops out of your mouth. "You're not making it any better, little one. If you could see yourself now," he collects the saliva in his mouth and spits on your tongue. Some of it misses and runs down your chin, "You're no good for anything else. You are forever my breeding machine, producing baby after baby." He bares his teeth and stares at your face and you try to hold his gaze as moans escape you again and again. "You'll spend your whole life just waddling around, thick and round, while we hang on your tits like a calf on its mother's teats." His thumb on your clit starts rubbing it. The pressure is strong and you go crazy inside. Your whole body is screaming at you, begging you to come, but its speed is wisely chosen. You are drifting in a dilemma of coming and not coming and it is draining you to your soul. You are always just before it, but you do not cross the line.

Another deep thrust and he growls low and wicked. A knot forms in his stomach and he becomes even more brutal. He has to hold back or he'll fuck you bleeding. "And you know what? You're going to look so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you like this when you're pregnant. I'll press another baby next to the other one." He bares his teeth again and his eyes blaze, his red eyes are like rubies. His right hand grips your neck and squeezes it shut. He forces you to look him right in the face and you blink, slight panic forming in your body and your milky eyes clear again.

"Tell me how much you want to be pumped full of my seed. Tell me who your god is, pathetic human." Your hands clasp his broad wrist and a wide grin settles over his face. How he loves to see you fear for your life. How he loves to see how much he has you in his grasp.

"Sukuna..." you whisper.

“Present again? Is there anything other than hot air in your head?” His nails on your neck are digging into it, drops of blood begin to run from some wounds. The sight was so beautiful. The power he has over you makes the blood run out of your body - how he would love to lick it away.

You grip his wrist tighter and your eyes wander back and forth between his, “Su-Sukuna, please…”

"What, please? Use your words." The red of his eyes are now only narrow rings. His pupils have exploded and he stares at you like a madman - as if you were his next victim.

Your croaky voice is now also muffled by the pressure on your neck. You feel as if you have forgotten how to speak. You try to clear your throat, but it doesn't work.

"Y-you are my God ... I live for you ... only you ...", his grin widens more, as you squeeze out the words and formulate a sentence with the greatest effort. "I worship you, only you. I love and adore you." His grip tightens even more and you feel as if your eyes are going to pop out of your head. The blood rushes in your ears, you see single dark stars in front of your eyes, while he rocks your body. Your nails dig into his skin and you try with all your might to draw air into your lungs. Please do not kill me.

"I-I love you so much … I will give you as many heirs as you want … Only please... S-Sukuna...," you croak, and he groans loudly. Tears form in your eyes as his hand does not loosen. Your neck hurts from the wounds and the pressure. You stare at him in fear and beg him inwardly to spare your life. In a millisecond his gaze changes again while he looks at you and his hand loosens. He presses painfully against your clit. Life flows back into your body and mixes with the feeling between your legs, taking you over the edge, your weak body exploding again.

Another thrust, deep and hard, and he comes, his cock pumping his balls empty, filling you to the top. He moans loudly, murmurs your name and puts his hands behind his head, “Fuck, one day, I will break you and you will love it.” As usual, his juice is far too much and immediately runs out the sides before he has even finished coming. You feel his cock twitching inside you as your eyes fall shut and your body relaxes completely.

Sukuna looks down at you, eyeing his work - he is quite pleased with himself. He looks at your connection and mourns the seeds that have flowed out of you. Staying buried in you so that the rest stays stuffed inside you his soft voice echoes through the room but you no longer hear it, "A short break for you before we start again, little love."

#sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk smut #jjk

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kiame-sama · 3 years

Text

28 Years - Yandere!Silva x Reader (2nd Pregnancy)

Many have asked and now, here it is!!

Warnings; Dub-con, pregnancy, yandere relationship, manipulation, mention of past abuse, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere tendencies, nsfw, Silva extreme views, family bonding,

It had been a few years- close to six- but the scars of your emotional turmoil were still present in your behavior and actions. You would become distressed whenever Silva attempted to be intimate with you, only calming down when he would back off, giving you the space you needed. Sometimes he would and sometimes he wouldn't, but he generally had not lain a single hand on you with any intent to hurt or force you to do anything.

It seemed he might have learned from his egregious error of taking Illumi away from you and punishing you for running away from him. Now he was cautious and treated you like glass in his grip, still keeping you close as often as possible and readjusting you to his touch. Some progress has been made- you no longer flinched from his touch or sobbed when he held you- but you still reacted like you were being burned or tortured with any kind of intimacy.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Silva hated seeing your pained expression, listening to your frightened whimpers and cries, seeing your panic whenever he tried to pin you under him, and most of all he hated how you never seemed to enjoy intimacy with him anymore. Even when he had first kidnapped you, you would make such loud noises and moans of pleasure any time he touched you and now you just panicked and cried. He didn't think your rejection of his affection would impact him so deeply, but he honestly couldn't remain hard or cum when you cried in such a way whenever he took you.

He was unable to enjoy it if you didn't enjoy it.

He could be a patient man, but he also had burning needs that drew him into near feral insanity if he refused to indulge in them. Silva NEEDED you. He needed your touch, your affection, your intimacy, all of it. He had tried to ignore his needs more than once before and almost every time he was unable to last very long, aching with desire just to feel your touch against his skin.

Even if it meant you were striking him or cursing at him, he would feverishly accept your touch with absolute glee. He was so sick with how desperately he needed you. His only 'cure' to this aching need was indulgence in his addiction to you. He was addicted to everything you had to offer and to everything you did. Nothing other than you mattered to him because you were his world. You were his love, his light, his everything.

True to his assassin nature, he quietly entered the room, frowning upon seeing you curled up in your shared bed and slightly shivering from the cold his absence seemed to cause. He chose to wake you gently, massaging your shoulders and murmuring softly to you in a husky hum.

"(Y/n), wake up..."

"Ngh... Hm? Silva? What is it?"

"I want to try something with you."

He felt your body stiffen as you fully awoke due to his words, fear and anxiety shooting through you almost violently at the implications his words had. You could only muster a whimper and start shaking your head back and forth, not trusting your words to be enough to deny his advances. Still he persisted, arms snaking around your midsection and pulling your back up against a warm chest.

"Shh... Trust me."

"No... No. No! No no no no no no no no!"

You were thrashing like a wild animal at this point, clawing for freedom and screaming out as if in pain, biting him when you could as you tried to wrench yourself from his grasp. He continued to simply hold you close as you thrashed, wailing and fighting his grip with all you had. But even your energy had to die down at some point, panting and whining pathetically as you lay exhausted in his arms.

"It's alright. It's okay... See? You're okay."

"No..."

"Yes. Have I hurt you during all of this?"

"... No..."

"See? I just need you to trust me. It won't hurt and we can take this as slowly as you want."

"I don't want it..."

"You do. You just think you don't because you're scared. I hurt you. I have done you wrong and unknowingly enforced the idea of intimacy being a punishment. I should have shown restraint and should have never done what I did to make you run in the first place. Let me show you this is different. Let me show you it's okay."

"..."

Your whimpers quieted as you lay hyper aware of any movement Silva made, feeling one arm drag down your side and his hand come to a rest on your lower stomach. When you didn't immediately try to push him away, he continued to follow the soft curve of your body until his large hand was parting your thighs. He slid his hand into your sleep pants where he cupped your heat and gently kissed your shoulder, slowly beginning to rub light pressure over your sensitive body.

The softest of noises left you, some kind of mix between a whimper and a moan, uncertain if you were whining from fear or due to the gentle movements of your husband. When Silva added a bit more pressure to your warm heat, you expected a flash of pain to stab through you, instead a soothing sensation ran through your mind and compelled you to calm just a bit more. Your light moans seemed to be the only confirmation Silva needed to keep going, sliding his hand gently between your soft folds, fingers prodding at your wet entrance.

Your mewling moans turned into gasps of pleasure as you gripped his thick arm, pressing back against his warm chest and whining in bliss. The light feeling of his lips trailing over your neck made you whine and shiver, hips beginning to slowly move with his relaxed strokes. You could feel how much your responses were affecting him given the rock-hard length that pressed stiffly against your back, pulsing in desire and need.

He tugged at your loose sleep clothes, easily sliding them off of your body, leaving you bare against his broad chest. His hands were warm as they slid over your chilled flesh, letting the heat sink into your body and warm you to the core. It was clear he was taking great care to not cause you any level of pain, given his relaxed touch and gentle behavior.

You whimpered when he moved so you were laying face-down on the bed, your hips raised up and his muscled body over your own. The firmness that pressed against you made you mewl and turn your head to look at him in vague fear despite the slick that coated your thighs. It was clear you were still frightened and hesitant to the idea of intimacy with Silva after what he had done to you, but the large hands on your hips gave you little room to voice that fear.

"Shh... It's alright..."

He shifted above you and you were about to question what it was he was doing when an intense warmth met your pulsing pussy, gasping and gripping at the blankets as an obscene slurping sound met your ears. Silva lapped his tongue at your soaked heat, making you mewl and cry out against the blankets beneath you, arching your back as pleasure hummed through your entire body. You couldn't stop the moans that tumbled from your lips due to the mind-numbing bliss that sparked through your brain, balling up your fists as you tried to hold back the sounds.

"Fuck..! Fuck, it- it's so good..!"

You were practically drooling at that point from the pleasure that coiled itself tightly in your abdomen, your eyes clenching shut as you continued to whine loudly. Silva seemed to only be spurred on from your pleasured noises, sinking his tongue as deeply into you as he could, gripping your hips and moving you in time with his desperate licking. When you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, you let out a loud screech of bliss as that coil snapped and flooded your body with euphoria, shaking from the sheer force of the pleasure.

"There we go... Fuck, you look so good squirting for me like this."

A whine left your exhausted form as he slid two fingers into you, moving and scissoring them slowly to get your warm walls to loosen for him. You were able to just lean into your pillows, feeling the echos of pleasure building up inside of you once more as Silva slowly but surely worked you over. He continued with his slow movements, letting you move your hips back against his fingers and fucking yourself on them at the pace you wanted all while admiring the wonderful view he had of your blissed out expression.

When your hips began to slightly stutter and jerk at a faster pace, he pulled away from you, relishing the sound of your needy whine of disapproval. He didn't hesitate to lick his fingers clean of your slick, getting a few more slow strokes of his tongue on your soaked pussy before getting to the matter at hand. He lined himself up, only allowing the tip of his large cock to rub against your tight hole as he gently massaged your hips.

"Would you like more?"

"Ple-please! Yes- yes, please, Silva! I need- ngh- I need more!"

"Then go ahead and take more. Go as fast or as slowly as you wish. Take my cock into you."

Silva was actually slightly surprised at how you reacted to his words, almost trying to take him in too quickly as you pushed your hips back, letting him sink deeper into you. The sheer stretch of taking his entire length was enough to make your toes curl in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment just to try and adjust to the full feeling. Some part of him wondered if you were even fully aware of the grasp you had on his heart, the sole being that held all of his affections and attention.

"Silva..! Please..! I need you to move..!"

You were mewling under him, gripping the sheets tightly as you whimpered and tightly closed your eyes. It was clear that you were in need of some kind of release and he was the only one who could provide it for you.

He wouldn't deny your breathy pleas, at least.

Starting with a slow tempo that built up to a near impossible speed, the bed creaked and complained loudly beneath you due to his unrelenting thrusts. You were in mind-numbing bliss and truly didn't care about the absolute racket you were making as you practically screamed out your moans, letting the sculpted man move your body as he pleased. Silva was in a similar state, lost to the pleasure of hearing your sweet moans as he buried himself inside of you.

He had yearned for such a sound for quite a bit now and your rejection of his affection over the past few years had left him nearly starved for you. Truly, there was only so much he was able to take when it came to resisting his physical need for your touch, wanting desperately to just hold you and have you cry out for him. He was finally able to feel your tight walls milk his hot cock and listen to your breathy moans, seeing you writhe in pleasure from the large cock buried inside of you.

"Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love me. Scream it for me."

"Ngh-! Silva! I- fuck- I love it..! So big..! So damn good! Please! Please I need more!"

Despite the fact you did not say everything he wanted to hear, Silva continue to rut into you with fast angled thrusts that made you practically see stars. His grip on your hips was tight, but you didn't register anything other than that thick length moving inside of you wildly. Even as your eyes rolled back, you couldn't help the whining moans that wrenched from your throat fiercely.

The moment that pressure growing within you broke, you wailed out in a near tortured moan while pleasure washed over you for what felt like ages. The hot ropes of cum filling up your soft stomach only seemed to prolong the pleasure that ran through your veins, as if time itself stood still around you. When Silva finally pulled out of you, you collapsed on the bed and panted heavily, feeling almost too full as you moved to a much more comfortable position.

Silva's large arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, letting you sink into the warm heat that radiated from his sculpted figure. It was truly as if the two of you were just basking in the presence of one another all while you slipped back off into sleep, content with the warm figure that held you so close. Silva took longer to just enjoy the moment after finally getting to embrace you once more without any fear getting in the way.

For now, it seems he had managed to mend the scars of his egregious error and had you content to be with him once more.

~~~~~~~~

You lay on your side, curled up on the tile floor of your shared bathroom, trying to get the queasy feeling to subside enough to move. You honestly couldn't remember a time where you felt half as unwell as you did at that moment, feeling tears sting your eyes as your throat burned with exhaustion. At that point, all you really wanted was to sleep, but with the current exhausted state your body was in, you had no way of reaching the comfort of your bed or the warm embrace of your blankets.

The quiet sound of your door opening drew what little you had left of your attention span, hardly able to lift your head all that far from the tile as you attempted to rouse your body into an upright position. Despite your efforts, it was clear there was no way you were going to be able to sit up and so you simply remained on the cold tile as you awaited whomever had entered the room. To your vague surprise it was not Silva who came through the door, it was Zeno and he honestly seemed as if he hadn't expected to find you in the state you were currently in.

With a surprising gentleness, the elder came to your side and rest the back of his hand on your forehead. He seemed to have some level of honest concern as he gazed down at your exhausted form splayed out on the tile.

"Shall I go retrieve that useless doctor of yours?"

"... Please..."

It took more effort than you had expected to huff out that one word, feeling oddly cared for and respected simply for the fact he asked what you wanted instead of acting of his own accord. Silva would have never done that. He would have taken one look at your unwell state and practically ran to retrieve your kind doctor to have you checked for any cause that may explain your current position.

It didn't take long for him to send out word to have your doctor come to your room before he was back by your side. Truly, if there ever were a time you felt honest appreciation for your father in law, it would be at that exact moment. He could have easily left you to suffer alone on the tile and instead not only sent for help, but returned to your side to wait with you.

"Is there anything you need at this moment?"

"..."

You tried to form some kind of sentence to respond to him, but you felt as if the energy had just been ripped out of you as your eyes began to slowly close. A sharp snapping sound brought your attention back to the man before you who now seemed to almost be more than just concerned.

"No sleeping. Not yet. Do your best to remain awake, Brat."

The faintest of smiles pulled at your lips when you heard that name that he only used for those he felt responsible for as well as those he cared for. Zeno was an assassin through and through and was a proud man at that, but he did have some kind of emotions that were reserved for family and close friends of the family. He was cold and to the point with almost everyone, but he was far more gruff and pushy with those he actually cared about given the way he has had to live on where his wife had died delivering Silva.

It was the only way he knew how to show affection.

"Where..?"

"Silva? Just left on a job this morning. A long job. It should take him at the least a month, if not longer. Of course you would choose now of all days to fall ill, Brat."

"Not.. dead yet..."

A low huff of amusement came from the older man as he sighed and sat next to you on the floor, keeping you constant company despite having no obligation to do so.

"I'm not telling Silva about this until he gets back. You know as well as I do that he would leave the job the moment he heard you were unwell. That fool loves you more than even he realizes."

His words, though harsh, made complete sense to you. Often you had thought that Silva was far more obsessed with you than anyone else realized, given how you were one of the very few who ever saw his true nature without the trained restraint and cold tone he almost always had. He was mentally unwell due to his upbringing and obsessed with you beyond reason, and he believed his actions were justified due to his familial heritage when it came to what they considered to be love.

Maha lived through it. Zeno's father died from it. Zeno lived through it. Silva will die from it.

An insane love that compelled them to do all they could to obtain and keep the object of their affections, even going as far as kidnapping and imprisonment. Silva's sickness is worse than theirs had been, and he is the only one that managed to keep his darling- you- alive. They understood and accepted the obsession he had with you and were content to keep you in Silva's arms as long as possible.

The door to your room opened with a loud creak before Kikyo made her way into the bathroom where you lay. It was clear she moved in a much more rushed pace when she saw you laying on the tile shivering, not even needing to be told to start checking you. She was being much more gentle and seemed to be far more expressive than usual as she examined you with great care.

"It seems to me you may be pregnant again."

You felt surprise run through your veins, but that surprise dulled down for a moment as you recounted what it was like when you were pregnant with Illumi. It certainly made sense, especially given all that happened up to that point.

"If she is pregnant again, I need to have a chat with Silva about keeping his damn hands off her child this time."

"Yes, sir. Shall I contact-"

"Tell him and I'll make you wish you never even considered it to begin with."

~~~~Three Months~~~~

You sat next to Zeno as you remained curled up nice and cozy in your heated blanket, sharing it with the elder who kept you company thus far in your pregnancy. Silva was expected to return any day now and you both knew the absolute fit he would throw the moment he learned what his father had been keeping from him. At least you had some peace and quiet without Silva around for a good bit, though part of you figured he would never accept another long job seeing as something important had been kept from him because of it.

Regardless, you were comfortable and starting to doze off when an unexpected question snapped you awake.

"That doctor of yours, she's the one who set you free after Silva took Illumi from you, isn't she?"

Your surprise must have been clear on your face as Zeno simply nodded, not taking his eyes away from the large television screen you two had been watching. He didn't seem particularly surprised at the answer to his question, nor did he seem all that angry either. It was almost like he knew the whole time but still wanted you to confirm it before he accepted it as truth.

"Please don't-"

"I won't tell Silva. I figured that was the case when you had somehow managed to get out. There would have been no way for you to do it on your own and the only person who had access to you outside of the family was her. To tell you the truth, part of me had actually hoped that you would manage to get away. To escape this place."

"... Why?"

"Because in many ways you remind me of my own wife. Often I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't caught her after she escaped. If I hadn't hurt her as Silva did to you... Perhaps she would still be here today."

You were surprised to hear all of this, having been too worried of upsetting Zeno to ask about the fate of his wife. It seemed she had been in the same boat you were currently in, but it had killed her where you had managed to survive. Before you could ask any more questions about the mysterious woman Zeno spoke so rarely of, the door swung open with a familiar level of force that made you jump slightly in response.

Silva was home.

There wasn't even enough time for you to welcome him back before you were being pulled up into his large arms, feeling his forehead against your shoulder as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His large hands easily cradled your body close to his own all while his lips roamed your soft skin feverishly. You were about to try and call out for him to stop for a moment before an old voice beat you to it.

"You can't fuck her, Silva."

"I can do what I wish with my wife, when I wish."

"Not while she's pregnant you can't."

All movement halted the moment Silva registered his father's words, tensing his entire body as he slowly came to terms with what he had been told. Silva moved rather slowly as he positioned you to be cradled in one of his large arms, his hand coming up to rest against your stomach which had already begun to swell up. He almost seemed to be in a trance while he stayed statue-still, sorting out both his thoughts and emotions on the realization.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Silva's voice was a deep and angered growl in his chest, sending shivers down your spine due to your proximity to the very man who could quite easily snap at any moment. Zeno seemed mostly unfazed by the aggressive growl and instead took to observing his sharp nails as if he were bored with the situation he found himself in. You really had to admire the old man's lack of fear while facing off with Silva, who you feared more than you cared to admit.

"Because you would have abandoned your job and that would be a terrible reflection on the Zoldyck family."

"She's been pregnant this whole time and you didn't damn well tell me?"

"Watch your tone, Brat. She's alive, isn't she?"

"How long have you known?"

"Since the very day you left. That morning was when she first began showing signs."

You felt the tension in Silva's body rise to near extreme levels, letting out a sharp cry as his grasp around your soft body tightened past the point of comfort. Your cry made Silva calm immediately and loosen his grasp so he no longer held you quite as tight. That cry seemed to have caused a temporary lapse in Silva's anger as he treated you with extreme care and gently set you back on the couch, giving you a quick once-over to check for any injuries he may have caused.

"Never again."

You looked up in confusion at Silva's lowly growled words, wondering just what he was talking about.

"I'll never leave you for that long again, I swear it."

~~~Six Months~~~

You lay in complete relaxation under your warm blanket, spooning a wonderfully soft pillow all while you dozed lightly on the couch. If anything, this pregnancy was far more... Relaxed... Than your first one had been. Silva seemed to be taking extra care to show nothing but the utmost affection towards you and your child during this whole ordeal and honestly it was doing wonders for you.

You still had that internal need to shield your stomach and your baby from the man who had caused all of this in the first place. This meant his caution around you and extra positive attention towards your unborn infant was all your brain needed to feel more secure in your fragile state even though such a dangerous man lurked nearby at all times. Silva got you anything you could possibly want the moment you brought it up regardless of what time it was or what he happened to be doing at the time you mentioned it.

Whatever food you wanted was immediately made and sent straight to you. If you wanted more blankets you need only shiver before countless blankets were being piled on top of you. Any vague sign of discomfort and Silva was immediately doing everything in his power to ease your troubles in whatever way he could.

You even got to see your first-born Illumi more than a few times as the young boy's presence soothed you immensely as did his sweet curiosity. Illumi may show little to no emotion, but what little he did show he only did so while near you. You could only smile at the memory of Illumi's large and curious eyes staring up at you questioningly while he rest his cheek against your swollen stomach.

"But how did it get in there?"

"Eh... I'll tell you when you're older, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I promise to take care of any little siblings I get to have."

"That's very sweet of you, Illumi, thank you, my darling."

"Anything for you, Mama."

Despite the odd behavior and almost frightening temper of your first-born, you felt more at ease than you had given the fact that you knew your son would always be on your side regardless of what may happen. Even with his cold demeanor, Illumi showed true affection for you and seemed rather insistent that you have nothing to worry about when it came to the future of your unborn child. At least you felt as if Silva learned his lesson to not take your children away from you too early as well as learning just what a positive impact your son has on you.

You were taking a rather wonderful and deep nap after getting to spend some time with Illumi and had recently awoken, content to just lay still and let yourself slowly wake up. The slow and gentle sound of footsteps drew your attention from hazy thoughts into sharp clarity, listening for whomever they belonged to. A large hand against your stomach almost made you tense up in fear, but the gentle way it lay against your skin kept you relaxed and calm.

"If you kill her, I will come for you next."

Cold jolted down your spine as you heard the low growled words against your stomach. Silva didn't often talk to your stomach or the life within unless it was to appease some request you made or to simply cheer you up. You were well aware that Silva would not handle your untimely demise in the slightest given just how distraught he would be at any idea of you being taken away from him.

You needed to keep your baby safe. But you felt like it was a near impossible task due to Silva hovering around you almost constantly. He certainly didn't take your condition lightly and considering how he received the news months after you did, you knew he refused to spend even an hour away from your side.

To some degree you appreciated the knowledge that nothing from outside of the estate could hurt you, but you also feared the fact that your husband took his 'protector' role rather seriously and could easily cause harm to you. He always said he wouldn't and yet you felt like you knew better, especially after your first several years with him. His lowly growled out words chilled you to your core and you only hoped that he would be in a much better mood once the child was safely out of you.

~~~~ 9 1/2 Months ~~~~

When the hell was it going to end!? You head read of some pregnancies lasting up to as long as a year, but you were getting more than a little tired and Silva's patience was near nonexistent.

"That rat is NOT allowed to keep you for so long. It's coming out today."

"Silva, for once would you just let me do things my way and decide what to do?"

"I am done waiting for it to come out on its own."

"What exactly do you plan to do?"

"Get the doctors to induce labor or just cut it out of you already."

"Would you just-"

You went cold and silent as a familiar feeling washed over you, feeling a slowly growing and rolling contraction beginning to tug at your insides. The panic in your expression seemed to tell him that something had happened and he immediately dropped the subject in favor of tending to you. You were barely aware of what seemed to be going on around you as another wave of dizziness washed over you along with a rather piercing contraction.

Silva stayed with you through it all, refusing to leave even as you were rushed into the delivery room. There was not one moment that passed that Silva wasn't letting you grip as tightly as you needed to his hand, speaking in a low rumble that he only reserved for rare moments of sensitivity.

Everything was primarily a blur to you, passing by in seconds that lasted hours and hours that lasted seconds. So when you finally heard that cry and a faint congratulations, you were already blacking out far too quickly to respond as your entire body achingly tried to reduce the tension in your over worked muscles.

Silva's heart rate jacked through the roof as you went limp in his arms, clearly something having gone wrong during delivery. The honest desperation in not only his actions, but in his very being seemed to leech out any other emotion, his eyes never leaving your face all while the doctor and nurses scrambled around you to do what they could. Silva had dealt with being alone while growing up and never wanted to experience it again, the simple idea of losing you causing the most blood-thirsty aura to spill from him.

If the sheer intimidation wasn't enough to get the medical staff working desperately, that cold glare Silva had locked them with sure as hell would be. There were no questions as to the nature of the consequences they face should they fail, the presence of the dangerous man only serving to add more stress unto the delivery room. The infant had been taken away somewhere quiet and safe so the doctor and nurses could focus on your suddenly poor condition, knowing that their only chance of survival was ensuring you survived.

Silva refused to move or leave or even look away from you before the doctor was able to say confidently that you would live. Even after that time came and passed as you were brought back to a stable condition, Silva had no intention to ever leave your side.

Thanks to the fact his father kept your condition a secret on favor of Silva completing a job, Silva refused to be away from you for any longer than a few days from then on. No more month long jobs that required him to leave you for large chunks of time, now he was committed to staying by your side as often as he possibly could. He adored you and honestly figured heirs weren't worth the risk of you dying, resolving to remove any pregnancy that may occur before you became aware of it.

Two was already too many for him. He didn't want to share you with anyone, but at least the two boys will keep his father off his back about continuing the family line.

He could deal with the brats, so long as everyone knew you were his. He adored you and kidnapped you just so he could get close to you, there's no way he would give you up for anything in the world. You were his world, and ue would protect you until the bitter end.

#x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #female reader #reader insert #kiame-sama #yandere silva #daddy silva #yandere silva x reader #yandere hxh #hxh yandere #hxh silva #silva x reader #silva zoldyck x reader #yandere silva zoldyck x reader #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #tw pregnancy

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

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Headcanons for SBI Sibling!Parrot Hybrid!Reader

(A/N): ope, went a little overboard with this one (also it’s not proofread, so sorry about any mistakes)

You have wings on your back (the feather pattern depends on what parrot floats your boat)

If you’re a Scarlet Macaw, Blue-and-Yellow Macaw, or Chestnut-Fronted Macaw, then you have black lines on your cheeks and heavy black lines around your eyes (think Hawks from bnha but less pointy)

If you are a Hyacinth Macaw, you have yellow markings around your eyes and mouth

If you’re a cockatiel, you have a killer mohawk/hair that is always very pointy and orange circles on your cheeks (how cute!)

I have a feeling that your hair is incredibly soft

Very sensitive wings

I feel like your teeth would be sharp and your nails would normally be fast-growing, long, and sharp

You tilt your head like impossibly far when you’re confused or trying to hear something better

Like your ear would almost be touching your shoulder

The head movements are very jerky and kinda just happen on their own when you hear something so you would have a lot of neck pain : (

You’re allergic to chocolate : (

I feel like people would underestimate you greatly and think you’re nothing except the ditzy comedic relief

Parrots are actually very intelligent

It bums you out to hear people say things like that behind your back when they think you can’t hear, but you try to not let them get to you

You give the best cuddles and are very affectionate with the people you’re close to (you’re also very cautious of strangers)

You’re also very in tune with the emotions of the people around you

You see someone sad? Head nuzzles and wing hugs

You see someone angry? You deescalate the situation the best you can and make sure they’re ok afterwards

You can dilate and contract your pupils rapidly at will

You may or may not stare at people doing it until they notice you staring or until they get creeped out

You fuck hard with any type of seed, nut, or fruit

When you get excited, it’s literally so cute??

Like you do everything parrots do

Little happy pitter patters with your feet, flutter your wings, your pupils contract and dilate rapidly, you make a ton of mob sounds

You’re easily excitable, hyper, and happy most of the time

It makes everyone happy to see you so excited so they would often go out of their way to get you things that make you happy

“Hey (y/n) I have some extra melon seeds if you want em!”

*Pupils contract and dilate rapidly*

You are loud

Like very loud

And very talkative

Like everyone knows where you are at all times

If you’re quiet and they know you’re around, either something is very wrong or they’re about to get pranked

God forbid you start to scream, your scream is loud enough to deafen someone for a brief amount of time and would leave everyone’s ears ringing for days on end

The mere mention of yours and Tommy's names together in one sentence is enough to give Philza a headache (someone give this poor man a couple of advils and a long vacation)

You two are literal demons when you’re together

Very chaotic relationship

You both like to fuck with people by sneaking up behind them

You would make mob sounds and Tommy would jump them before you two made a break for it

You and Tommy almost got killed by Techno a few times, but in your opinion the look on his face was 100% worth it every time

I feel like you would cart him up and down from the towers he builds

He could relate to being stereotyped as the stupid loud one, so he recognizes right away when you’re sad about it and will try to cheer you up

His main go to is the jukebox

Oh my god if he plays his jukebox around you, you go full send with your dancing

*AGGRESSIVE HEADBANGING*

He would laugh at your awful dancing, but he would join you eventually

Cat and Mellohi go hard

Speaking of music, Wilbur uses you as a walking soundboard

He needs a sound sample? You better prepare for spending most of your day recreating the sound

He needs back up vocals? You spend most of your day listening to his voice and other singers so you could replicate it

You don’t want to disappoint him so you try extra hard to appease his picky music composition

You kinda stress yourself out over it sometimes

When he notices (which he will, he’s very perceptive), he immediately calls it a day and has some sibling bonding time

You both bond over liking to eat strange things

Amazon macaws like to lick clay deposits on riverbanks so you like to have some on you at all times to lick when you get stressed

Wilbur carries some in a bag in his pocket and you carry a bag of sand

Whenever one of you notices the other has a rough day, you give each other your respective stuff

You have to be sneaky with it though, Philza always takes away nonedible stuff from his children if he sees them trying to eat it (he has good intentions tho)

It always looks like a drug deal

With Techno, I feel like he would find you incredibly annoying at first with how loud you are

He would actually start to hate you when you started to sneak up behind him

It got to the point to whenever he would hear your voice he would get irrationally mad and have to leave the house for a few hours

He, like everyone outside your family, would think you were useless and incredibly stupid

That was until he passed Tommy’s room one day and overheard you crying and telling Tommy about your insecurities

He would spend the next few days ignoring you bc he felt bad

He would spend those days contemplating on why he treated you like he did

Coming to the realization that you were likely trying to get closer to him and you were just being yourself, making him feel like the biggest piece of shit

He totally had no idea how to confront you about this, so naturally he went to Philza (that man was literally so happy that his children were gonna start to get along)

He would spend the day gathering golden melons because he found out that you’d never tried golden melons before from Philza

When he approached you one day with an apology and some golden melons, you were suspicious at first

He hated you, so why would he get you these things if he didn’t need anything from you?

Quickly finding that his apology is genuine and he felt incredibly bad for treating you like that over the years

You picked up on his guilt pretty quickly and made quick work to reassure him

He would take you on short trips and would soon find that you’re very useful in detecting mobs and deterring creepers with cat noises

He would never admit it, but he loves it when you would scare Tommy or Wilbur, thinking it’s hilarious

You also found out that carrying a seven and a half foot tall piglin hybrid was incredibly difficult to do, especially when flying

You two managed to get only about ten feet above the ground before your wings gave out under the strain and you fell on him

“(Y/n) has earned the achievement ‘When Pigs Fly’” flashed on everyone’s comm tablets that day

That wasn’t fun trying to explain to Philza

Philza would be ecstatic to have someone to fly with that he didn’t have to carry

He would take you on flights when you had too much energy

Sometimes racing each other and competing to do tricks midair (which sometimes you both rope your brothers into judging)

Late night flights when you need to get your mind off from something

Watching the sunrise together in silence for once

Bonding over being able to see ultraviolet light when everyone else couldn’t

You always give him the shiny things you come across and he gives you your favorite snacks

He always fusses over your wings, sometimes preening them for you

Helping each other through molts

Matches your excitement sometimes when you’re really happy

You feel bad whenever you hear stories of how difficult you were as a baby

He’s quick to reassure you that raising you was worth it and you turned out to be a great person

But he wouldn’t be lying when he said you were a difficult infant

Your terrible twos stage? His literal hell

Philza swears he can still hear ringing from whenever you would throw tantrums as a toddler, even years after you left your toddler age

He also still has some scars from when you went through your biting phase (teething was awful for you, his poor baby)

But he’s happy he was the one that raised you, he genuinely enjoys your presence

If you’re in a really affectionate mood he is more than willing to let you cuddle up to him while he reads a book or something

WING HUGS WING HUGS WING HUGS WIN-

When he’s had a long day and is stressed out, you immediately pick up on that and do everything in your power to make sure your brothers are quiet and behaved, try to find out what made him so stressed, and sometimes go out of your way to take care of it for him

You try to be the one taking care of him for once as much because he’s taken care of you so well throughout the years

He can tell if you’re overwhelmed or upset just with one glance at your ruffled feathers and your rapidly dilating and contracting pupils

Immediately pulling you out of the situation and letting you talk it out

Whenever he finds you sad about your insecurities, he points out every part of your personality that he loves

That’s before he hunts down the person that made you feel like this (he really lives up to his title of ‘The Angel of Death’)

Overall, you wouldn’t trade your family for the world

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #headcanons

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that-nd-infp · 3 years

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What Makes An Emotionally Repressed INFP 9w1 People-Pleaser:

Recently on my post about being hyper socially-aware, someone asked if I was like that to sense potential danger. At first, I didn’t even consider that. I just assumed that I was more intuitive/observant than most people (and that is partially it, being different at a young age leaves you feeling fascinated with others and wanting to understand them). But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that was exactly the case, it is a defense mechanism. So let’s get to unpacking some childhood trauma.

Before I get into this, let me break down two key pieces to this puzzle:

As an INFP, I am hyper-aware and hyper-sensitive to my own feelings. They guide everything I do and affect me very deeply.

As an enneagram 9w1, I am hyper-sensitive and hyper-aware of my environment; I strive to maintain peace and harmony, and when that’s replaced with conflict and negativity, it makes me extremely upset and it’s very hard for me to bear (amplified by my INFP Fi). The idea of upsetting the people around me or putting my needs ahead of theirs is immensely anxiety-inducing.

So now that we have that out of the way, let’s explain the environment that I spent my formative years in.

The Trauma:

To be clear, my mother was never abusive, and I’ve never had to wonder whether or not she loves me; I know she does, and she tells me often. But she is still mentally ill, and the effects of that have done their fair share of damage on me over the years. Untreated Anxiety and Depression, PTSD, and [suspected] Avoidant Personality Disorder (from childhood abuse) have all done a number on her and drastically affected so many of her behaviors.

People dealing with that gallery of conditions I just listed can be very prone to stronger mood swings and emotional outbursts, which is understandable. My mom in particular is very unhealthy/not emotionally regulated and tends to be a very cynical, bitter, and pessimistic person (again, understandable), so she focuses on the negatives of everything and finds faults way more easily, which amplifies everything by a lot. She can also be prone to sarcasm and passive-aggressive behaviors.

So, needless to say, it doesn’t take a lot to set her off. And when she does get set off, it’s a lot to take in (especially for someone that’s extremely sensitive to that) and it lasts quite awhile. Even something as simple as a restaurant making her food wrong/poorly as enough to get her super worked up: ranting and raving, saying things like “of course, why not? Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyways, I give up, I’m done with everything” with increasing intensity (I should note that we always get take-out, so this happens at home). Sometimes it takes the form of pacing around the house chanting “I hate my life” repeatedly like it’s some kind of mantra (which is something no child should ever have to hear their parent say). Sometimes it’s being extremely irritable and snapping easily. In any case, I don’t know how else to describe it other than that she radiates the most intense negative energy I’ve ever felt in my life; it’s completely overwhelming and it’s enough to make me feel nauseous.

In addition to all of that, because of her abusive upbringing, she doesn’t handle any sort of criticism or anyone else’s negative emotions well at all. If you tell her something she’s done upset you or she perceives a negative tone, she’s going to take it as a personal attack and get extremely defensive, usually lashing out. But on the complete other end, if something about you is bothering her, she will not tell you. She’ll simply let it fester and complain about you to others behind your back (or take passive-aggressive shots at you) because she can’t handle the confrontation of bringing it up normally. It can be hard to know exactly where you stand with her.

The Effects:

Now imagine living with both the mental state I described in myself earlier and the environment I described. There was always a negative and turbulent environment and absolutely nothing I could do about it. Any slip of negative emotions on my part resulted in even more emotional pain. I was made to feel guilty for feeling and expressing my emotions, even if they didn’t have to do with anyone in particular. I learned to fear my feelings and hide from them, to push them down and bottle them up and pretend everything was fine. I learned to fear how I come across to others so I wouldn’t convey too much genuine emotion and risk upsetting them. At this point, I’ve become so emotionally repressed, I don’t even know what I’m feeling most of the time. I physically can’t cry even when I want to because my body won’t let me. I worked that out of myself a long time ago so that my emotions wouldn’t be a burden on others.

I also learned to fear others. I’ve become obsessed with reading their faces and voices to see if there are any signs of irritation. Even if there aren’t, I second-guess myself and assume that they’re upset with me, and I stress myself out about it. I can’t trust that the people around me are being genuine and I’m always paranoid that everyone is secretly upset with me and thinking poorly of me. I’m always afraid of saying the wrong thing and setting people off.

Maybe part of this comes down to the fact that I’m too sensitive and I’m paranoid of things that aren’t real. Maybe I pick up on a lot of cues that aren’t actually there. But the idea of risking assuming things are fine and potentially upsetting people is just too great to me. Trying to look out for my own wants/needs feels selfish, so I don’t do it. Letting myself feel feels too dangerous, so I don’t do it.

And at this point in my life, I have no idea how to undo any of that.

[Also, just for the record, I do love my mom very much, and she’s been great in so many other areas. She’s never intended to hurt me, and I don’t think she knows she’s even done any of this (I obviously have never brought any of this up). She’s just extremely unhealthy and unable to see past her own problems.]

#infp #9w1 #people pleasing #childhood trauma #emotional trauma #emotional repression #psycology #people pleaser #infp personality #type 9

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tutuchlee · 3 years

Text

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Star Gazers

Author note: Hey guys! Here is the sk8 infinity fic I have been working on for anon !

I apologize for the wait, I was planning to have it done last night but 3 hours in I accidentally refreshed the page and lost my ENTIRE fic!

I also apologize if the writing quality is not it’s best— after losing the fic yesterday I found it hard to rewrite many parts and struggled with find my groove again. I’ve rewritten this about 4 times now and this was the best I managed to do.

I hope you all enjoy regardless, and I promise to do better in the future!

Summary: After finally coming to his senses, Reki makes up with Langa, only for Langa to give him a piece of his mind!

Word count: 2767

Warnings: Some swearing, tickles, this fic takes place at the end of ep 10, so SPOILERS for those who have not gotten that far

Ships: Reki x Langa

———————————————————————

Misery.

It was the only word that came to mind to describe the hell of a week Reki had gone through.

It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the skill difference between him and his friends, especially his boyfriend who had surpassed all of them in the timespan of a couple of months. On top of that-- getting beat up, hit by a car, then waking up in a random hotel room really put the cherry on top for the young skater.

The world felt as though it was completely against the young firecracker.

However, none of his injuries could compare to the heart aching pain he had to go through from pushing his boyfriend away.

Langa deserved none of this, for how could he? He was naturally talented in skating, and Reki should have been proud. He was his teacher after all--and usually a teacher wants their pupal to succeed, but for Reki, he just wished he could compare.

Langa no longer needed him.

He’d already taught himself far more tricks than Reki could have dreamed of and perfected each and every one of them. Meanwhile, Reki was falling behind, and drowning in his own sorrow.

Perhaps what upset him more was the fact he still wished to skate against Adam. Watching them the last time had set Reki off for quite some time, for how could it not? Adam touched Langa as if he owned him, and on top of that he was already calling the two of them Adam and Eve! Who even was this guy!

But even so, Reki knew his actions were wrong. Ignoring his boyfriend, yelling at him and even purposely avoiding him was definitely the receipt for the worse boyfriend award.

And of all places he had to realize this, it had to be upon waking up in the love hotel with some random guy. He had rushed home as soon as he could after giving a heart filled reply to the strange man who had asked him to quit skating, and realized his love for skating didn’t happen from being better from everyone, but from skating with those you love.

Which was how the two lovers ended up here; Reki sprawled out on his back with Langa taking a faceplant into his stomach at the skate park once used to teach snow his first ollie.

A groan escaped from Reki’s mouth as he slowly propped himself on his elbows, using one of his hands to rub the back of his head. “Langa..!” he whined, looking down at the snowflake that had yet to move, “Why didn’t you dodge me!” he asked with a subtle pout on his face.

Silence passed over the two with no response from the other. Instead, Reki noticed a slight quivering of his shoulders, and his panic quickly spiked. Disregarding his injuries, his attention was now on his boyfriend which he feared was injured.

“Langa!” he called out once more, moving his hand away from his head to gently nudge the others back.

That’s when he was met with those beautiful sky blue eyes, with none other than a huge grin plastered across his face as laughter spilled out. His anxiety soon melted away at the sight as his eyes lit up, taking in the sight of his Canadian boyfriend.

And eventually Langa’s laughter died down to a comforting silence as the two lovers gazed into each others eyes.

It was moments like these that Reki both loved and hated. He loved looking at his gorgeous boyfriend, basking in the affection he always gave off—but hated that he could not last more than five seconds without becoming a flustered mess.

His cheeks had blossomed into a crimson red as he quickly brought his arm up, draping it over his face as an attempt to shield himself from the other. And as he peeled his eyes away he glanced off into the distance, trying to give himself a chance to calm down.

“Did you hit your head or something..?” He asked, trying to break the awkward silence he had created.

However, for Langa, he adored Reki’s reaction each time, sometimes purposely doing things just to see his firecracker sizzle. It was not easy to tame the other, especially with his hyper personality, but he found that with a little affection he could get the other to soften down. So adorable.

So, as he looked up at the other, he was unable to hold back anymore. From the bottom of his heart, Langa began his barrage of compliments to the other, telling him how much he cherished him as a skater and a lover. Reki had taught him everything he knew-- and seeing him hate skating just because of it pained Langa more than he thought it would.

It had been everything Reki needed to hear and more, filling the void he had created of self-doubt. His words comforted him like a blanket, making his previous view on himself disappear as he continued to spill sweet nothings. It was all too much for poor Reki.

Langa knew Reki couldn’t handle compliments, and Reki mentally cursed at him for it as the crimson tint slowly crawled to the tips of his ears. Unable to take much more, Reki quickly put his hand out, stealing a glance at the pale face as he cut him off, “That’s enough! That’s really enough..!” he muttered sheepishly.

Curse you Langa.

But truly, the redhead felt at ease from his anxiety. And as he let out an embarrassed cry, he slowly fell back onto the concrete as Langa’s words circulated throughout his head, playing like a broken record.

Feeling satisfied, Langa slowly lowered his chin down atop Reki’s stomach again, pressing his cheek against him as he too laid with the other.

And as the silence continued, Reki’s thoughts only wandered, thinking about what his next step would be in terms of skating and making it up to Miya for breaking his trust. But—those thoughts were cut short when an electrifying jolt pulled him out of thought, causing an unattractive shriek to escape his lips as he immediately sat up, looking down at the culprit.

There Langa laid, burrowing the tip of his nose against the lining of skin exposed by his shirt, abusing the access by lightly peppering kisses along the soft tummy it showed. It felt as if there were butterflies battering their wings against his belly, sending shivers down his spine with each kiss.

“H-hey!” he screeched, his voice cracking as he squirmed beneath him, “Quit it, you know I can’t stand it when you do this!”

Did Langa know this? Perhaps. But would he stop now? No.

Those gorgeous blue eyes Reki loved so much slowly rose to meet his, a clear mischief behind them that he didn’t want to acknowledge. His arms slowly wrapped around his lovers torso, encasing him in a trap Reki with he’d seen sooner.

“Reki, I haven’t been able to hear your laugh in over a week. Don’t you think thats a little cruel?” He asked, a look of disappointment yet playfulness on his face.

This was it for little Reki. His instincts to run were starting to kick in, but as he squirmed below the other he realized now there was no way of getting out of this. Perhaps, plan B?

“L-Langa, wai-AIT!”

His voice cracked mid plead as two fingers found their way to his sides, jabbing into that practically sensitive spot just between his ribs and hips. His back snapped straight at the unexpected sensation, causing yet another yelp from the teen.

In a desperate attempt to stop the other, he reached down and grabbed his shirt, hoping to shut him out of the unfair advantage he had of his bare skin. However, that attempt was deemed a fail after he pulled the shirt over Langa’s head, trapping him and his devious intentions inside.

Unable to help a smirk from growing on his lips, the now trapped Langa pressed his cheek against the others stomach, rubbing it gracefully against his skin as if to show he was getting comfy. He let the other have a moment, peacefully laying there as his plan was going better than intended.

Reki, on the other hand, was a squirming mess. His mind was becoming discombobulated as he tried to figure out what the next move from the other was. But that was proven difficult since all he could feel was Langa’s breath, lightly dusting against the hairs lining his belly, making each one stand on end.

All he could do now was plea, hoping that his snowflake would have mercy on him. But alas, his words only went through one ear out the other, having no affect whatsoever on the situation.

With a light chuckle, the assault began.

The fingers glued to his sides began wiggling, digging out the laughter he patiently waited for. It took everything Reki had not to scream as he jolted from side to side, his voice cracking while he erupted with his shrieky laughter.

It truly was music to Langa’s ears. His head bounced against his quivering stomach, getting to feel and hear his laughter as it echoed all around the skatepark.

But was it greedy for him to want more?

As his fingers wiggled deviously into the curves of his sides, he decided to change it up. Without warning, his wiggling fingers came to a stop, and instead changing to something much more unbearable.

They gently pinched the others skin, making sure to get right into the grooves of his side to hit the spots he knew he couldn’t handle. He’d move up and down much as his wrist allowed him to, occasionally vibrating a particular spot that got a good reaction from the redhead.

To add onto that, those butterfly kisses soon returned across his stomach, turning him into a pile of mush as he laughed his head off.

Reki was always known for his loud and cracky tone of voice, and it truly showed through his laughter that changed in pitch every few seconds, cracking and screeching every time his sides would get drilled.

There was little to no hope of getting out of this, and no amount of shoving or pleads seemed to be working, so all he could do now was take it.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he slowly fell back in a heap of laughter, squirming beneath his boyfriend holding him hostage.

Anyone walking around might question what crime scene was taking place in the skate park, but to their luck no one came to check.

Instead he was left there to laugh his throat hoarse by his boyfriend who seemed to be enjoying this much more than he was.

For minutes on end, Langa would pinch and drill into his sides, occasionally spidering his finger nails across the bare skin to cause his poor redhead to twitch and cry out with laughter.

“L-LAHAnga!” he’d repeatedly screech, shaking his head from side to side to indicate he was done with the torment. But to his demise, Langa was buried beneath his shirt, showing no signs of stopping.

In some ways, this was Langa’s way of taking out his stress on the other for the past week. Did Reki really believe he wouldn’t be upset?

Hearing him laugh now made up for all the times his heart shattered at the sight of his usual happy and cheerful boyfriend unable to even shed a smile. Seeing that there were no screams for him to stop, he only assumed his boyfriend was enjoying it too.

So as he happily continued his assault, the kisses he’d been leaving around the open canvas came to a halt.

Instead, he moved himself into position just below the others naval and took a deep breath, grinning as he slowly moved down to press his lips against the skin, blowing as much air as possible to create that loud ‘PFTT’ noise Reki once used on him.

That's where his firecracker exploded, screaming out with laughter as he kicked his legs out, arching his back as his skin rippled below his lips. The vibration carried from his stomach and traveled up his body, causing almost a tsunami of ticklish sensations to follow.

“LAHAHANGAAAHA!”

Holy shit-- it tickled to the point Reki thought he might die.

Tears of mirth collected in the corners of his eyes before spilling over as Langa decided to leave tiny raspberries around his naval, causing the poor redhead to completely lose himself.

It was unbearable.

At this point his laughter was beginning to grow silent since the onslaught of baby raspberries weren’t stopping, and Langa’s hands were still torturing his sides with pinches.

Geez, where the hell did he even learn how to tickle like this!

“L-LangHA! I-I...I cahahan’t take it!” he managed to wheeze out between his screechy laughter, smacking his leg against the ground to show he was k.o’d. He started to desperately claw at the back of Langa’s shirt, trying with all the energy he had left to pull him away.

His bladder wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, and at this rate he’d definitely lose his voice!

But to his relief, the attack began to slow. There was one final raspberry on the dead center of his naval that resulted in a snort from the redhead, adding yet another embarrassing noise to his index of screeches, but thankfully that marked the end to his attack.

The fingers that were torturing every inch of his sides slowed as well, but never retracted. Instead, Langa decided to give him a little treat, and instead gave him the light tickles he knew Reki loved.

With the tips of his finger nails, he barely brushed them against his skin, hardly making contact as he dusted them across his sides.

Reki, whom was now a sweaty pile of mush on the ground, panted heavily as the other let up on his tickle attack. After giggles were all that remained, and upon trying to calm down he could feel Langa giving him his specialty.

The tickles that made his skin crawl, but also calm him to the point of sleep.

He loved them, and so did Langa. They were usually used during their cuddle sessions to calm the firecracker who couldn’t seem to sit still, and upon the discovery Langa used them whenever he could.

So as he laid there catching his breath, he felt the spidery tickles calming his tickled mind. They skittered up his sides, dragging back down just to do it again. As if he wasn’t exhausted already, they brought the extra wave of comfort and sleep with them.

Langa knew what he was doing. He planned on taking the tired out skater back to his place so they could sleep together. His sheets were no longer stained with the sweet scent of the other, and usually it took a lot of convincing to get Reki to agree to sleep over due to his constant state of being flustered.

So as he as treated Reki to his favorite ghost tickles, he slowly popped his head out from the cave that was Reki’s shirt, flashing him a soft smile despite his hair being disheveled from the static.

Feeling the other finally arise from the cave he’d created beneath his shirt, he opened his eyes slightly to glance down at him, still a flustered mess with a hint of sweat lining his forehead.

“You...you’re cruel.” he wheezed, bringing his arms up in defeat.

Langa only grinned, looking down at the exposed torso Reki had left him, which he knew was 100% intentional even if Reki refused to admit to it.

“I love you, Reki.” Was his reply as he finally untangled his arms from around the others waist, instead moving them under his shirt to lightly spider all around his sweet belly, dusting the baby hairs all around the soft skin.

He even drew a faint heart as Reki visibly pouted, clearly trying to ignore the fluttering tickles despite Langa knowing how much he craved them.

With a huff, Reki eventually looked down at him, unable to hold back the smile that he was forcing out of him. And as he looked at his snowflake, he realized now how lucky he was to have a boyfriend like Langa.

And with that, he sat up, reaching down to cup his boyfriends cheeks as he drew him in, pressing a soft kiss to those lips he was proud to call his, pulling away moments after with a tired grin.

“I love you too, Langa.”

#langa x reki #sk8 renga #sk8 infinity #reki #langa #tickle fic #tickles #tickling

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Men who I think would be soft for their baby for no other reasons than because I want them to be, in no particular order but still numbered ten to one because I like countdowns...

——————————————————————————

Part two —> part one here

——————————————————————————

This one’s for you @activist-af, no Finn and Kol erasure here Lottie

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10. Raleigh Becket

A really good man who is a little too impulsive at times and has pretty much no sense of self preservation and always seems to get himself into worsening situations

Is so fucking soft for his baby that it’s insanity

His baby is in no way the same kind of super soldier he is, she’s literally the softest baby in the world, and he’s just so careful with her

Like he follows her around the compound and just makes sure she’s okay

Eats every meal with her, shares a room with her, literally does pretty much everything with her just in awe

So many cuddles before and after a mission, lots of reassurance, kisses her entire face everywhere at least twice and has to get practically dragged away

Endures so much teasing from his partner

I don’t care if his character is suited for a dominant female you can’t change my mind on this one this man is soft as fuck

——————————————————————————

9. Ambrose Spellman

A reformed radical warlock who has been locked in one house for a hundred years and is itching to go on a self-destructive bender after cleaning up his family’s messes for years

In absolutely no position to be in a committed relationship but I don’t give a single fuck

He would follow his baby around like a damn puppy when finally free of the Spellman residence

Oh she wants to go to witch school? He’s tagging along

She wants to go travel? Lead the way

The park, carnival, movie theatre, cafe, literally endless places he would follow her

Would read to her as she falls asleep and tell her all his little bits of knowledge on things that he collected during his time stuck in the house

A soft man that is final

——————————————————————————

8. Richard O’Connell

Cannot survive a normal, mundane life because it’s “too boring” for a man like him and would risk it all for a mummy invasion even if it means that he dies in the process

But by god he is so fucking soft I just know it

Keeps her safe at all costs even when she pouts at him and makes him take her with him when he travels

Refuses to leave her side when they go abroad because his track record with ancient curses is not great and there’s no way he’s letting some gross ass mummy hurt her

*dramatic gasp* HE ACTUALLY REFUSES SOME DANGEROUS MISSIONS FOR HER???

Does the thing where he leans into her hand when she touches his face and like kisses her palm

Definitely sleeps curled around his baby and wakes up at the slightest noise ready to hurt any intruders

I would literally do anything for this level of soft

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7. Finn Mikaelson

A one thousand year+ original vampire who has absolutely zero sense of self preservation and actively seeks death because of how much he hates himself and would gladly bring his family down with him because mommy said so

Doesn’t quite fit the full dominant image but I don’t care he fits the soft part 1000%

Would bring her with him when he goes to see his family and is always wrapped around her the whole time

Endures all the teasing that would come with that for her because she’s?? Just?? So?? Cute and perfect???

Literally a thousand years old and would still absolutely crumple for his baby in SECONDS

If she cried it would literally be game over

There would be two people crying

He would be crying MORE than her

Epic date night planner, meticulously detailed, would pay so much attention to the things she likes and picks up on even the smallest clues

God he’s so soft I want one

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6. Clint Barton

Largely pushed aside Avenger who has been evil in the past and appears at times to miss the evil a little too much

This one doesn’t even need an explanation, I’m literally right and this one has proved himself countless times

This man is the love of my life so yes: I am biased

Badass, sarcastic, cold archer Avenger by day; soft, caring, gentle man by night

Goes home, soaked with blood and sweat, and pulls his baby into the shower and just sags into her arms

Lives for her fingers in his hair after a long day

And bubble baths with her

Has gotten in trouble countless times for skipping important meetings but does not give a single fuck about it

Teaches her archery and doesn’t yell once (which is a feat pointing to his softness because once he tried to teach Nat and they yelled at each other the entire time)

HE IS SOFT, CASE CLOSED

——————————————————————————

5. Bellamy Blake

Incited a radical uprising in a highly dangerous and sensitive situation for really no reason at all other than the fact that he wanted to be the de facto leader of something

As per usual, I don’t care about canon characteristics this is my world I can do whatever I want

Every bone in this man’s body is a protective one

Yes, every single one (No, I’m not sorry about this)

Does not take shit from anyone about her, has definitely shut an entire group of people up for talking about her badly

Gets so nervous when she does anything even remotely dangerous and when she does he’s stuck to her side like glue

He’s so touchy and talks so quietly to her, not because he doesn’t want anyone to hear him call her his baby but because he just literally can’t bring himself to raise his voice he’s that soft for her

Does everything in his power to make sure she’s comfortable which is by no means easy in the slightest

So many forehead kisses that it’s almost barf worthy but he doesn’t care because she loves it and that’s all that matters

The radical leader is a fucking puddle of softness for his baby and that’s final

——————————————————————————

4. Loki

A trickster god who always teeters precariously on the edge of good and evil and no one ever knows which side he’ll favour at any given moment

Except when it comes to his baby then he’s good duh

Tiptoes around her because he would definitely be the type to go for a baby who jumps easily and he’s loud and kind of clunky so he’s always just slow and gentle

So much gentle teasing and giggling like oh god it’s tooth rotting sweetness

He takes her hands and just puts them on him, like his chest and cheeks and jaw and arms

Anywhere he just wants her touching him all the time

He rests his chin on her shoulder or head and reads whatever she’s reading or watches her go about her hobbies, kissing her cheek in between

This girl would never work a day in her life she would be ridiculously well taken care of

Would burn down a city for her with little provoking

As soft as butter for his baby

——————————————————————————

3. Kai Parker

Bringing back the “needs a therapist, not a girl” but sprinkle in a touch of volatile daddy issues that has created a man so hyper reactive to every negative situation whose only solution is to lash out because he figures no one loves him anyway

But sweep all that aside because fuck it, I don’t like it

He would worship his baby 110%

Is the type of man to let her do his nails and put as many face masks as she wants on him

Can’t sleep without her literally on top of him

He so clingy and touchy, loves when she grabs his hand, internally screams whenever it happens

Has for sure killed for her that isn’t even a question it’s just a fact

“He didn’t do anything” “he looked at you” “but Kai” “but baby”

Would do it again

I DON’T CARE: HE’S SOFT FOR HIS BABY

——————————————————————————

2. Jasper Hale

A literal once upon a time confederate soldier who made child soldiers for his dom-vamp girlfriend because he was “in love”

This man has ripped so many heads off so many bodies but I don’t give a single fuck I know he goes home to his baby and just picks her up and does not put her down

Face it, his family is rich, he doesn’t have to do anything, naps are definitely a big part of his routine and he’s always just snoozing with her on the couch, pulling her onto his lap and pulling a blanket off the back and they’re just asleep

Goes out for dinner with her, makes it through maybe twenty minutes, the entire time he’s waiting for it and then boom, the puppy eyes, game over, they’re home in minutes

Has skipped so many family functions

Will make any excuse to just go the fuck home

Sometimes he doesn’t even make an excuse he just fucking leaves

He’s touchy too I just know it look at that face the man lives for contact

The verdict is in-- 100/10 SOFT

——————————————————————————

1. Kol Mikaelson

Perhaps the angriest, most volatile, I-hate-the-world-and-everyone-in-it, thousand year old+ original vampire who has been stomped on so much and died so many times that he has no true sense of the world, trust, and love left

Oh GOD this man, this FUCKING MAN

THE SOFTEST MAN HOLY SHIT

I don’t even care what y’all think about this one Kol is so damn soft

This man is the inventor of cuddling

And he doesn’t give one single fuck about where and when I just know it

Family dinner? The witch market? CHURCH??

It doesn’t matter, he’s pressed against her

Oh god this man is protective

Maybe a little possessive too

I don’t care

His family calls him unpredictable so hey he may as well live up to it and burn down a bar or two or twenty for his baby

Shows her all of his witch things and rambles about them all

Is always pulling one of his shirts or hoodies over her head

AGAIN BUBBLE BATHS I JUST KNOW IT

He likes washing her back and just getting to be alone with her

He likes it even more when she washes his hair like he just sinks to his knees and closes his eyes and gives into it

GOD MY HEART IS BEATING SO FAST FOR HOW SOFT KOL IS

——————————————————————————

#Kol mikaelson #loki #kai parker #bellamy blake #jasper hale #ambrose spellman #finn mikaelson #clint barton #hawkeye #raleigh becket #rick o'connell #the originals #the vampire diaries #the avengers #twilight #pacific rim #the mummy #the 100 #the chilling adventures of sabrina

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Oh God

TimeTraveler!Son x Haikyuu!! Part 2

a/n: hehe i wouldnt put ‘x haikyuu’ if manager y/n ends up with that certain character. youll just have to,,,, wait for the end 😏

he didnt want to lie but he had to so he could survive

hinata offered his hand to help him up and natsu winced at the scratches and the slight headache as he stood on his two feet

‘you okay?’

hinata asked and natsu nodded

‘yea, just a headache’

natsu tried to play it off as cooly as he could bc this must’ve been from the car hit before and he couldnt just say he got ran over by a damn car

‘where do you live? i can go and treat your wounds there’

natsu was about to respond but he remembers hes not in tokyo anymore and he cant just spout out his address

so he did the thing his mom told him to do whenever it was necessary

he lied

‘i-um,,,’

he fumbled for an excuse but he sighed to maintain the act

‘i got kicked out’

he mumbled and hinata had to make him repeat it twice because he said it so quietly

the tangerine boy gasped and held his arms

‘what?! why?!’

natsu sniffled

‘my dad,,,, he just,,, doesnt want me’

well, that was actually true

so a true statement could equal that lie, right?

thankfully, hinata bought it and he grabbed his arm to walk forward while his other was pushing his bike

‘i hit you with my bike so the least i could do is take you to my house and treat you!’

and that was what they did

natsu’s phone was dead even though he was sure he charged it from denki’s powerbank during practice but it remained its black screen no matter how many times he hit the power button

his surroundings was also something unfamiliar

his mother only kept him in tokyo and never took him to go visit her family because she was kicked out and had to go live with her auntie when she found out about him and his father refused to help her

‘so, sendai, huh?’

he mumbled and hinata looked at him confused

‘sounds like youre not from around here. where you from?’

‘t-tokyo’

he replied and saw hinata’s eyes brighten

‘oh?! you look like youre my age so you must have been in a high school in tokyo, right? what school?’

‘yuuei’

‘hah?! yuuei?! what is that?!’

natsu rolled his eyes and shrugged

‘a school’

hinata persisted though

‘do you know other schools?! any other school friends?! like nekoma?! or fukurodani?!’

natsu shook his head and he was supposed to be happy that he got to meet, even talk, to his idol yet his younger self was much more hyper than his mellowed out behavior on tv

‘i stick to my friends from yuuei’

‘but what are you doing all the way here?’

natsu’s throat dried up and he watched his feet kick the pebbles to distract him of his urge to just whine and throw a tantrum with the confusion from this mess

‘i dont know’

he choked out and he was so tired and confused and all he wants to do is cry in his mother’s arms like he used to but she doesnt even know he exists

hinata sensed the tension and sadness from the boy beside him and tried his best to stay quiet until they get home

to say his mom was angry was an understatement

‘SHOYO, DONT YOU KNOW TO WATCH WHERE YOURE GOING?!’

‘kaa-san i was so angry and bakageyama was yelling at me and hit me and-’

‘THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU AN EXCUSE TO RUN SOMEONE OVER!’

natsu sat there on their couch awkwardly watching the black-haired woman yell at the human tangerine

he coughed in impulse and she turned away from her son and went to sit next to the h/c boy

‘dear, im so sorry for my son and his terrible biking. i didnt catch your name when you entered, what is it?’

even hinata forgot to ask his name but thats such a hinata thing to do though

natsu froze

if he was to say his mother’s last name, it would raise suspicion that he might know her in this time period and izuku has shown him enough doctor who to show him what happens when he messes up in time

again, he lied

‘kiri,,,shima,,, natsu. kirishima natsu’

he inwardly apologized to eijirou for using his last name

mrs. hinata raised a hand to her mouth with a surprised gasp

‘oh! my daughter’s name is also natsu! natsu, dear! can you come here for a second?’

natsu heard soft sounds from the stairs and she shyly walked down

‘come say hi’

she softly urged her daughter to come closer and the little girl ran to hide behind her older brother who gently smiled and held her hand

‘well, thats her. she just turned 10 a few days ago. look dear, kirishima-kun has the same name as you!’

she waved slightly and natsu felt his heart swell at the sight of the adorable little girl

his mother never really had time for relationships so he was an only child and never got to experience a sibling, only hearing the experience of having siblings from his friend, shouto

mrs. hinata placed a gentle hand on his arm to revert his attention back to her

‘shoyo told me what happened and im sorry that this is all happening to you’

he felt guilty at the sight of her sad eyes because this was all a lie but he knew if he told them the real reason, they wouldnt believe him

so he had to continue with the lie

‘everything was falling apart and i wanted to leave everything behind. so i just took the shinkansen to nowhere and ended up here’

mrs. hinata felt her heart tug because he was just a little boy and he was too young to experience this so she offered him something he shouldnt have agreed to but again, survival

‘you can stay with us in the mean time. our guest room has been collecting dust so you can live here’

‘what? no! i can’t!’

natsu instinctually turned it down because he hated people giving him charity

but the woman squeezed his arm to give him a smile

‘i will not allow a child to live in the streets because of something he couldnt help’

‘arent you worried youre inviting a total stranger in your home?’

but she gave him a knowing smile

‘im a mother. i can trust you, boy’

in exchange for board and food, he promised to get a part time job so he could pay her back and get out of their house as quickly as he could

shoyo led him to the bathroom upstairs so he could treat the wounds from the ground

natsu sat on the closed toilet seat while his literal idol was putting cream on his boo-boos

he still cant wrap his head with everything

maybe it was because he was so busy trying to come up with lies that he wasnt able to fully sit down and think about the fact that he just TRAVELED BACK IN TIME and could accidentally change it

‘shoyo, what year is it?’

he mumbled

‘2012′

he answered and natsu sighed but his head perked up

oh god

2012

thats a year away from 2013

the year he was born

that meant shoyo’s team manager was going to give birth to him next year

‘why? did you hit your head so far that you forgot?’

hinata joked but he paled when natsu didnt laugh

‘OH GOD DID YOU?!’

‘NO! AND STOP YELLING!’

natsu shouted, equally surprised

‘whew, thank god. again, im so sorry i hit you’

‘shoyo, dont worry about it, okay? im fine, i swear’

during dinner, mrs. hinata told him about his school situation

‘you can go to karasuno with shoyo. what year were you in?’

‘first’

‘perfect! shoyo is too so he could easily help you around the school!’

natsu nodded quietly, still out of it and his brain finally starting to accept this impossible reality

‘but i dont think i could help you with the entrance exams. im not the most-um-smartest, per se’

shoyo apologized but natsu already knew that

he was no extreme fanatic but he knew quite a lot about hinata shoyo, the player he watched during the 2021 olympics and the reason he started playing volleyball

natsu dreamed to join the msby jackals just like his idol did and eventually reach the national team like hinata did

it was during the olympics of 2021, he knew he wanted to be like him

this boy who sat next to him was the reason he came to love volleyball along with his other idol, oikawa tooru, from the argentina volleyball team after seeing that legendary match

when oikawa hit that service ace, natsu wanted to be able to receive that

he was merely 8 and his neighbor, midoriya inko, was babysitting him and she placed him and her son who was his friend, izuku, in front of the tv where they watched the olympics match

‘someday, ill be someone great. ill be great like him’

he promised and from then on, he worked to achieve that goal

‘natsu? hello?’

he was shaken from his thoughts as shoyo nudged him back to reality

mrs. hinata laughed

‘maybe you should head to bed early, dear. you must be tired after having a hard journey’

he nodded and was about to go and wash his dishes when she stopped him

‘no. go and sleep, ill take care of this’

‘i have to do my part in here, hinata-san. please, let me do this’

she finally agreed and he was scrubbing the plates when his mind wandered over to possible solutions on how he could go back

there was an episode that he watched with izuku that the character had to do something to go back

and he had a feeling that he would have to do the same thing

but what would that something be?

there had to be a reason he was thrown all the way in this time and it couldnt just be a coincidence that supposedly, this would be around the same time his mother would get pregnant

but who would it be?

he finished putting the plates on the drying rack and he felt really thirsty suddenly

opening the fridge, he found no water bottles and natsu had a very sensitive stomach so he couldnt drink tap water

his next favorite beverage was there and he pulled a glass from the cabinet

‘hinata-san, is it okay if i can have some milk?’

he called out and she shouted that it was okay

natsu poured the drink on his glass and started drinking it when hinata entered the kitchen and snickered at him

‘yknow, you remind me of my idiot teammate. none of my other friends drink straight milk except for him’

natsu placed the glass down and wiped his lips

‘chocolate milk make me sick and i hate the taste of flavoring in milk. but i just hate flavoring in general. except for gari gari popsicles, those are good’

natsu reasoned, watching hinata move across the room to get an apple

‘still ew. but come on! lets go to bed so i can show you around school early before practice tomorrow!’

natsu noticed his excitement by the way he bounced in place and he chuckled

it reminded him of his friends mina and denki

hinata led them both to his room so he could check his wounds again just to make sure

then something caught his eye

‘kirishima-kun you like volleyball?!’

that threw him off

partly because he wasnt used to being called by his friend’s last name

but also because of the question

‘huh? how do you know that?’

natsu asked, almost defensively

hinata shrugged

‘i saw your volleyball shoes in your bag’

hinata reasoned and excitedly pointed at them

‘you should play for us! im part of the team too! oh oh! what position do you play?!’

‘l-libero’

natsu stuttered out, slightly overwhelmed by hinata’s energy

hinata started circling him, inspecting his height and looking at him up and down

‘yanno, kirishima-kun, youre really tall. like much taller than the rest of my club. maybe not saltyshima but really!! youre so tall!!’

hinata whined in envy and natsu laughed

‘blame it on the paternal side of the family. my ma isnt really tall’

he laughs but then memories of his mother resurfaced and he suddenly felt gloomy, guilty, even, bc he doesnt know if time stopped there or it kept going and if so, shes probably worried sick

and he knew she was always one who blamed herself

hinata noticed his downcast expression and thought he probably remembers his dad and got sad since he got kicked out

so our baby sunshine freaked out and he frantically waved his hands around

‘oh no! gomen kiri-kun! gomen! i really didnt mean to make you think about him! gomen!!!’

he even bowed which surprised the h/c boy and made him stand back up

‘o-oi shoyo! dont! you didnt because i wasnt thinking about him!’

he fussed and patted hinata’s hair

‘i dont care about him. to be honest, there isnt much to think about’

he didnt think about what he said until he heard himself

natsu’s eyes widened, fearful of how hinata could take it but he flinched when the orange-haired boy’s eyes were filled with his own tears

‘OH NO!! KIRI-KUN!!!’

then launched another series of apologies and natsu had to calm him down

oh dear

it was early in the morning like 5 when hinata bursted into natsu’s room

the loud shout of shoyo made his eyes blink open and he groaned before turning to the side

‘come on, kiri-kun! we need to go to take your exam!’

‘nooooooooo’

‘yeeessssssss’

it was quite a battle for hinata to even just get natsu out of bed but he managed to bribe the latter with some milk bread from the bakery down the street

‘2′

natsu showed his two fingers and hinata sighed before nodding

‘yes. now go hurry so we can leave!’

dressed in his grey sweatpants and a yuuei sweatshirt, natsu cursed as he only has clothes good for 2 days and he didnt want to bother the hinatas so he was at a loss

mrs hinata bid the two boys good bye and natsu was yawning and dragging his body to walk while hinata was skipping over to his bike

then he finally realized the problem

he nervously looked at natsu and the taller boy didnt understand why he was looking at him that way

‘what?’

shoyo pointed at the bike and awkwardly smiled

‘uh,,, you see,,, i dont think youd,,, fit,,, at the back seat’

natsu shrugged

‘then ill bike. ive done it before’

he sauntered over to the bike and swiftly lifted his leg before testing out the brake handles

‘its good and better than mine back home’

‘a-are you-’

‘sit down, sho’

hinata gripped on to the back of natsu’s sweatshirt as he told him the directions to how to get to the school

natsu remembered watching an interview of hinata talking about his high-school life and he remembered the star player talking about his dedication to go to karasuno everyday for volleyball

and the boy couldn’t believe hes doing that right now, with his idol literally behind him, and driving to the legendary karasuno high school

from the jackals to the adlers and even some other teams like the frogs, natsu cheered for them

there was a memory of his mother sitting with him on their couch during one of her rare day offs as they rewatched the recorded copy of the olympics

it has become natsu’s favorite thing to watch

‘with great talent comes great hardships. people don’t become good overnight and i watched those people suffer through it all but look where they are now’

‘KIRISHIMA, WATCH OUT! COWS CROSSING!’

natsu was snapped out of his thoughts at hinata’s shout

then it morphed into pure and utter confusion

‘cows?’

shoyo laughed

‘since youre from the city, this must be a weird sight for you, huh? well, in the countryside, this happens a lot!’

but natsu didnt mind

in fact, he loved cows

he loved any farm animal in general

maybe it was his upbringing in the hustle and bustle of the city that he grew to love the countryside

shoto took him with his family to a trip to the country once and he remembered loving the smell of grass

they were able to do an activity in a farm where they worked in a rice farm and the peace and serenity was something he will always remember

his mother was lucky she grew up in a place like this

‘kiri-kun, ive been wanting to ask, how is your volleyball team in the city? are you a powerhouse?’

natsu felt pride bubble up in his chest

‘of course! we got second place in nationals!’

he boasted and blurted out before he could stop himself

then he felt fear

he shouldnt have said that because for all he knows, yuuei probably doesn’t exist at this time period

hinata had a different reaction and his eyes shone

‘WHAT?! WOAH! SO COOL! I HAVE TO TELL OUR CAPTAIN THAT WE’RE GETTING A POWERHOUSE STUDENT!’

‘uh-i-uh-’

natsu didnt know what to say because he had a feeling he definitely just did an oopsie

so he switched topics really quick to divert the attention away from his past

‘o-oi sho, once youre done being a pro volleyball player and stuff, we should have our own rice farm’

of course it was such a random idea but it distracted the orange boy

hinata shrugged

‘i mean,,, i have to be a pro first but i guess we can!’

‘hmm,,,, i dont think you have to worry about that’

.................................................

taglist:

@hartbeat-art @yakus-yakult @nerdyphantomlady @jollycowboysaladhero @cynicallychaotic

a/n: oh god this sat in my drafts for so long and i really dont know what im doing like i kinda have a rough outline of what im doing but im just going with the flow but i dont think the flow is quite flowy

147 notes · View notes

chadillacboseman · 3 years

Text

Barstool Throne

Pairing: Comandante Veracruz x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, alcohol use, guns mentioned

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent. I work in healthcare, and reader is a hcw (no explicit mentions of work duties though). Veracruz is an arrogant dick.

Also why do I only write with bars as a setting? Do I have a problem

---

Veracruz was a piece of shit, of that you were certain. The man didn’t exactly try to hide it either, often sauntering into the bar with his squad and making sure the whole building knew they were there. You tried to avoid the bar when you could, but often shifts at the hospital ended in a mood that only cheap booze could fix. Showing up in your scrubs was a bonus, because it often earned you a free drink or two from the bartender. You had been working at the local hospital for the better part of two months on a work exchange program, living in the provided housing adjacent to the building. It wasn’t a bad gig- you made decent money and the other staff were fairly accommodating to a newcomer.

For the most part, you avoided unwanted attention, but there were always nights where the attention found you despite your best efforts. And tonight, you felt the unwanted eyes of Veracruz and his squad on your back as you made your way to your favorite barstool.

“¡Hola amiga! ¿De tomar?” The bartender was friendly as usual, but his eyes darted to the table in the far corner as you spoke, as if he sensed trouble brewing.

The trouble made itself evident just as the bartender set your drink down in front of you- the blue-grey fatigues were unmistakable in your peripheral vision. It seemed Veracruz had broken off from his group and was now standing next to you, leaning against the bar, and eyeing you as if you were a steak on a butcher’s block.

“Can I help you?” You kept your words sharp and your eyes forward, sipping casually from your drink. Veracruz chuckled and signaled the bartender for a drink of his own,

“Just admiring the view.”

You snorted and turned to face him, ready to retort in the most vitriolic way you could muster, but you found your insult catching in your throat. The man was more handsome up close than you had realized- all jawline with an aquiline nose and a peppering of facial hair. As if he sensed your thoughts, Veracruz took a seat on the stool next to you as the bartender returned with his drink. For a moment, the bartender’s eyes flicked to yours, filled with worry at your new companion, but you smiled briefly and gave him a small nod.

Veracruz waited for the man to leave before he returned his attention to you,

“You must work at the hospital, eh? Doctors for All?” You silently cursed yourself for not changing into street clothes before coming to the bar,

“Yes. And you and your...friends must be, what? Military? National Police?” Veracruz took a swig from his beer and shrugged,

“Something like that. But I think you know I’m not here to talk about me.” His last words were almost a growl, low and unnerving.

“Does this technique work often for you?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow, “the “asshole military guy makes me feel unsafe” vibe really doesn’t do it for me.”

He smiled, all bright white teeth and crinkled eyes, before he responded, “Do I make you feel unsafe?” he moved almost imperceptibly closer to you, leaning in so that his face was unbearably close to yours.

You swallowed much harder than you had intended, “You’re carrying two sidearms and enough ammo to kill everyone in this bar-” you paused to take a sip of your drink, “Am I supposed to feel at ease?”

Veracruz considered your question for a moment, “Perhaps not. But I have no intention of hurting you-” he paused to gesture around him, “or anyone here for that matter.”

He took another swallow of his beer before slamming it on the counter to grab the bartender’s attention.

He turned back to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face, “At least tell me your name-” he tugged at his fatigues, “since I am at the disadvantage of having mine emblazoned on my chest.”

You deliberated with yourself for a moment before relenting and telling him your name. He repeated it with a grin, and you hated how much you loved the way sounded in his accent, “I like it.” The heat rose in your face at his words and you tried to tamp down the girlish butterflies flitting in your gut.

The bartender arrived with two shots of tequila in tow and set them on the counter in front of you. You raised an eyebrow and turned to Veracruz who grinned.

“Something to ease the tension.” He threw back his shot with barely a grimace, then gestured to yours, his expression almost playful.

Against your better judgement, you took the shot, your face contorting slightly at the taste. Veracruz laughed and clapped you on the back.

“Will you survive?” You sputtered and scrambled for the lime wedge, pressing it into your teeth, “No thanks to you.” You shook your head to clear it and took a hearty swallow of your drink to wash it all down.

You wished now that you had eaten your lunch as the liquor hit you like a mule kick to the chest. Veracruz watched you intently and waited until there was a pause in your miniature breakdown before he spoke, “You looked good, even while you did...whatever that was.” You snorted, “Well thank you for that.”

Veracruz eyed you intently for a moment before he spoke again, “I’ve had enough of this chase-” he waved his hand dismissively at his squad and they rose from their chairs with a clamor. It was a moment before you realized that they were clearing the bar of the few other patrons. The bartender spared you a worried glance before disappearing into a back room and leaving you alone in the empty bar with Veracruz. You became hyper aware of your breathing, which was suddenly much heavier. For a moment, you considered getting up to leave, but something held you to the chair- was it the liquor? Or was it the spark of longing you felt building in your chest?

Veracruz’s hand on your chin snapped you out of your trance as he turned your face to his. His dark eyes bored into you as he moved to put his mouth on yours. The kiss was rough, all tongue and bites on your lip as his hands moved to your chest, brushing over your breasts through your top.

“Do you know how long I wanted to do this?” his lips ghosted against yours as he spoke, “Every day that I saw you here, I wanted to pin you over this bar and fuck you.”

In one swift movement, he plucked you from your seat on the stool and pulled you onto his lap, your back against his chest, held in place by his hands around you. Veracruz’s mouth found your ear and he bit gently at the sensitive flesh before whispering, “Now I have you here to myself, I am going to take my time with you.”

Veracruz’s hands snaked under the hem of your top and he tugged it up over your head and tossed it to the floor. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and licking at your exposed skin and sending chills down your spine. Beneath you, you could feel his growing arousal through his fatigues as his hands worked their way over your chest. His hands were rough against your skin, but you pushed against them anyway, savoring the feeling of his touch as he moved them over your breasts. Without warning, he bucked his hips up and shoved you, roughly, over the bar in front of you, your feet barely came under you quickly enough to stop yourself from sliding down. Veracruz kicked the barstool away carelessly and it fell to the stone floor with a clatter. There was a rustling sound as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. You felt his fingers gently trace down your back to the waistline of your pants before he grabbed them aggressively and pulled them down in one swift motion.

“Your arms- give them to me.” his voice was a low growl as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them in the small of your back. He fumbled, one-handed, with his belt for a moment before using it to fasten them together. He leaned forward so that his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from your ear, “So I know you’ll be a good girl for me.” he whispered, and you felt your legs grow weak.

Veracruz grasped your hips roughly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing gently against your folds.

He chuckled as you pushed back against him, “Look at you, so wet and so desperate.” You whined as he teased you, moving his cock up and down your slit slowly, tantalizingly, until you felt as if you were going to snap.

"What do you want?" He sounded arrogant, and you wanted to slap him, but fuck did it feel good. "Use your words," he growled, tugging roughly at your restrained wrists.

"I want you to fuck me!" You cried, practically begging him to be inside you.

Veracruz chuckled and leaned over you, moving to wrap a hand around your neck, "Say please." He whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hand tightened on your throat.

You hated him in that moment, but you wanted him so badly that you managed to whine, "Please fuck me."

However big you had imagined Veracruz was, it didn’t prepare you for the feeling of his cock being buried inside you. You let out a strangled cry as he bottomed out, and he chuckled again as he gave you a moment to adjust. He took hold of your restrained wrists and started to piston his hips slowly, pressing you down into the hard wood of the bar as he did.

“Fuck-” his breathing was ragged as he moved inside you, “I’m going to fill up this tight little cunt.” You groaned at his words and squeezed your eyes shut as your face rubbed against the smooth wood with every thrust. “I’m going to make you mine.”

His free hand connected with your ass with a loud smack and you let out a surprised yelp at the painful contact. Veracruz increased his speed, his body slamming against yours as he split you open and pushed you, hard, into the bar beneath you. You whimpered as you felt your climax building, threatening to erupt at any moment.

“Too bad no one else is here now,” Veracruz grunted, “No one will know that the pretty girl from the hospital is letting me fuck her where they get their drinks.”

Your face heated at his words as you thought of the bartender and prayed that the door that separated him from the two of you was thicker than it looked. Veracruz’s pace was more erratic and frenzied as he chased his peak, his grip on your hips threatening to leave remnants of the affair. Your own orgasm wasn’t far off, and only grew closer as he pushed into you, his ragged breathing hot on your back. You moaned his name against the bar as you came, feeling yourself clench around his cock. This was enough to drive Veracruz over the edge and with one last buck of his hips he let out a strangled groan and spilled inside you.

Veracruz remained there for a moment as he caught his breath and grew soft inside of you. He pulled out slowly, savoring the mixture of the two of you that dripped slowly down your thighs. He turned his attention to your wrists and slowly unbound them before he moved to pull up his pants and buckle the belt around them. You stood up straight and began to get dressed, pausing to glance at your wrists- how on earth were you going to explain those marks to your coworkers? You pulled your top over your head and tamped down your wild hair before turning to face Veracruz, who had been watching you fixedly.

“Let’s do this again sometime.” The cockiness in his voice made you want to reach out and slap him, but you knew that was a terrible idea. “But maybe next time-” he moved closer to you, his hands perched lazily on his belt.

“I won’t clear the bar first.”

----

@djxrxn tagged AS USUAL BECAUSE ALLI IS MY ROCK.

#pedro pascal #comandante veracruz #fanfic #burn notice #pedro characters

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destiniesfic · 3 years

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132 Hours, Chapter 8:

“Are you scared of me?”

He lets out a nervous little laugh. “Are you decent?”

Note: There’s a bit of mature 🔞 content in this chapter. This fic is rated E on AO3 for a reason, so please keep that in mind. Thank you!

Read chapter 8 on AO3, or read below:

Heat steals over me slowly, like fog rolling in from the ocean overnight. I have a hard time falling asleep because it hovers at the edge of my senses; a tension headache pressing at the front of my skull, the flipping of my stomach, all compounded by the aching of my injured leg. I toss and turn a little, but not much, because with Cardan next to me there isn’t much room, and I don’t really want to kick him and alert his attention.

His sleep is also restless. I’ll hear his breathing even out, and then he’ll jerk awake, suddenly, with a little startled sound, his elbow brushing my arm, the mattress shifting under him. I didn’t think someone like him would be prone to nightmares, but I guess our situation would test anyone’s psyche. A couple of days ago I would have asked, resentfully, what Cardan would even have nightmares about, but I am learning that his life is not nearly as charmed as it seems.

We must manage to sleep sometime in the early morning hours, and it is then that my heat breaks. I know it’s begun when I wake up. The room is pregnant with it, in the same way the air grows heavy and humid just before a lightning strike. I am aware of every part of my body in a way I usually try not to be: the muscles of my thighs tensing; the prickly three-day hair growth under my armpits; sweat collecting between my breasts; an urgent cramping in my lower belly that I know—with dismay—is ovarian, not uterine; a desperate, disastrous need layered in with it all.

And I am aware of Cardan.

He is fast asleep. I know that for certain, even without listening to the rhythm of his breathing, because he would never be doing this if he weren’t. He’s wrapped himself around me like a boa constrictor, an arm clamped over my waist, a leg slung over my thigh. His hand rests on the sliver of exposed skin where my tank top has hiked up, and his palm seems to burn cold. His lips press against the crown of my head in the mockery of a kiss, his sleep-breath ruffling my hair.

Part of him, however, is very much awake, unmistakably pressed up against my ass, and although I have never handled one of those on purpose I am not so ignorant or inexperienced as to not know what’s going on.

For a moment I feel as though I have left my body entirely, suspended in a weightless space between desire and panic. After that, his hand slides a little further up under the fabric of my shirt and there is nothing I want more than for him to touch me, to cup my breast, to let his fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts. And I think, Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

And I think, What if we get it over with?

But there is no “getting it over with,” because if we start we won’t stop, not for days, not until my heat runs its course and his rut burns away. And, with a flash of shame, with a clench in my stomach, I remember Valerian trying to pin my arms and his sour breath against my cheek as he asked me the same question. Why not get it over with? “Omegas are good for one thing,” he said. “You don’t seem to have figured that out yet.” My heartbeat rabbiting in my chest as for one terrible second I wondered if he was right.

“Cardan,” I whisper. Yesterday I had kicked him awake, but I am too frozen now even for that.

Cardan groans sleepily into my hair. His grip around my waist tightens and his hips press harder against mine and my mind completely whites out at the deep throb of dreadful want that responds. I take a deep breath, count to three, and force myself to reach back and pinch him.

I feel the moment he wakes, because every part of him stiffens. Well, every part that wasn’t already stiff.

“Shit,” he breathes, and he scrambles off of me and across the room so quickly that I am forced to wonder whether he was even there, even as I feel his invisible handprint on my waist.

I roll onto my back. Cardan is now once again in what I’ve come to think of as “his corner.” Although I try not to look at his groin, my eyes seem drawn there, and his jeans are very tight, but out of embarrassment or shame or something else he has arranged his legs so that I can’t see and tugs his loose shirt down.

“So,” he says. “Uh. Morning.”

I don’t know what to say. My mouth feels like a desert. Images of—of all things—prairies at the height of the Dust Bowl that had been printed in one of my middle school history textbooks flash across my mind. Maybe I am delirious.

“It’s started,” I manage.

“Yeah, I got that.” Cardan gestures vaguely, at himself, at the room. He is in sharp focus for me in a way that nothing else is. A rivulet of sweat trickles down his neck. I want to lick it.

I am astonished that he can just sit there in his corner, although he seems more closed-off than usual. I can vaguely recall my first heat and the urge to act, even if I was too miserable to do much and I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Now I know exactly what it is that I want to do. And the pheromones rolling off of me should be sending him into a rut, and alpha ruts are supposed to be a basically unstoppable force. Before suppressants, terrible things would happen if an omega was caught out in an unexpected heat with alphas around. When we woke up I thought his had been triggered, based on the erection and now the sweat. But he’s in his corner, and he isn’t coming closer.

I must really repulse him if he can resist it like that. Normally, this would just irritate me. Now, I want to yell. I want to cry.

“I...” I begin, but then I am hit with another cramp and a chill settles under my skin. Evolutionarily speaking, the purpose of heat is to mate, and there’s logic to making my life unpleasant if I don’t do that, to ensure survival of the species. Everything goes slightly sideways and makes me a little cold-blooded; if an alpha were here to help me regulate my temperature, I would be fine. But my body has caught onto the fact that Cardan is across the room instead of pressed up against me and it says Hey, no, that’s what we want, as if it can decide those things unilaterally. And its main method of protest is to set everything on fire.

I can relate.

As the fever blooms, so does the sensitivity in my every nerve. I feel the underwire of my bra digging into my ribs, the stiffness of my denim shorts and the tickling of stray threads where they have been intentionally distressed. With an urgent gasp, I unzip my sweatshirt and pull it off before reaching up under the back of my tank.

“What are you doing?” Cardan asks, panicked.

I struggle with the clasp of my bra for another second before unhooking it and slipping my arms out of the straps. I pull it out from under my tank top and fling it across the room like it might bite me. “It fucking hurts,” I say between clenched teeth. I start on the button of my shorts.

Cardan covers his face with one large hand. “These are really mixed signals you’re giving off, um, right now. Are you getting naked? Please don’t be naked. I don’t know what’ll happen.”

There’s a waver in his voice that keeps him from sounding aloof and sarcastic. I sit up to slide my shorts down my legs and toss them beside my bra, then put my sweatshirt back on and pull the blanket back up. It’s scratchy, but I have to get warm. “Not naked.” I pause. “Are you scared of me?”

He lets out a nervous little laugh. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah.”

But I am watching his fingers closely as he lowers them from his face. My tongue wets my dry lips, and I wish they were his. Then there’s another cramp, and I feel—oh no. I feel the worst thing of all, because it feels like I’ve wet myself, when really it’s an entirely different category of bodily fluid. My underwear is soaked.

I’m glad I took off my shorts, I think deliriously. It would be such a pain to get this out of denim.

In this terrible moment, I am unable to believe that I have ever hated Cardan. Just looking at him is an experience as visceral as being punched in the gut. I look at his mouth and my lips tingle with the thrill of imagining how a kiss would feel. I look at his long fingers and press my thighs together to stop phantom versions of them from slipping inside of me. I am incoherent with want, absolutely stupid with it, and the last remaining shred of my sanity is the only thing keeping me from crawling over to him and stripping off his shirt.

That and the absolute mortification, because it feels like my entire body clenches again and another rush of fluid follows. I let out an involuntary whimper; my face burns hot with shame. At least he can’t see what’s going on down there with my legs under the blanket. I don’t know what he can smell.

“I’m gonna—” Cardan begins, his eyes darting around the room for some kind of solution to our problem. “I’m— I can’t stay in here.”

I make myself nod. Of course he can’t. As much as I am slowly being consumed by base instincts, I am still here, and the part of me that is me understands that. He can’t stay in here, because something will happen, and he doesn’t want—neither of us want—anything to happen. Of course.

“But we can’t let them in here,” he says, under his breath. “I can’t let them get you. So. Okay.” He nods. “Right. Okay. I’m gonna come over there for like two seconds. Don’t move or do anything or— okay?”

“Okay,” I say. I don’t even think about what it means that I’m going along with what he says. I’m just glad one of us has a plan.

Cardan draws a breath, steeling himself, and crawls over to me. It isn’t very far. I make myself look up at the ceiling so I can’t check whether he’s still hard and pretend to ignore him, even though I can’t not be hyper aware of his presence. He pauses at the side of the mattress and takes another breath.

“Right,” he says. “Sit up for a second.”

I do. To my surprise, he adjusts my pillow, then reaches beyond it to get the one he’d slept on. He moves to put it under my head, then says, “Oh, shit, wait, your leg,” and changes his mind, moving down the mattress to prop my left foot up on it. Then he asks me to lie back down and begins tucking both blankets around me, fitting them tightly to my body.

“We have to like, smother it, right?” he says. There’s a manic quality to his voice, like he’s on the verge of babbling. “We can’t let them smell you. So if we trap the smell in the blankets, maybe…”

“That’s smart,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Although I’m afraid it’s also useless at this point. The stale air in here is already saturated with both of our scents. Cardan’s is muskier than usual today, cocoa and earth and… I break out in a fresh round of sweat, but my body also calms down a little at having him nearer, at the possibility that something might happen.

He pauses when he tucks the blankets around my shoulders, his eyes, dark as black coffee, finding mine. If I look closely enough, I can tell where his irises end and his pupils begin. They’re blown wide, although that could just be because it’s so dark in here. Still, I am captivated by the arc of his eyelashes when his eyes flick toward my lips.

“Jude,” he says quietly. The sweat is making his hair curl even more than usual. I want to mess it up so badly. I want to be kissed. I have never wanted anything more. Valedictorian, college acceptances, acknowledgment of my accomplishments, all of those wants vanish in the face of Cardan and his perfect Cupid’s bow, his full lower lips.

For one long, tense minute, we are not moving, breathing the same air. Then there is a quiet knock at the door, an almost fluttery beat, like that of a hummingbird’s wings. It’s the Bomb’s knock.

Cardan jerks back from me like he’s been hit with a sudden electric shock. “Okay,” he says, reassuring himself. “You’re as far away from the door as you can be. It’ll have to be enough. I just— won’t let them in. Yeah.”

He stands, looking down at me one more time, and then turns away. I see him subtly adjust himself before moving to stand in front of the door, blocking the entrance.

“Jude’s sick,” he calls.

The door swings open immediately.

Cardan doesn’t move. I peer at the doorway. Behind the Bomb’s slight form, I can make out the Roach, halfway to standing from his chair at the table.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asks.

“Fever,” Cardan lies.

“I should get the Ghost,” the Bomb says. I guess it’s a credit to how scared they are of Madoc that she sounds properly worried. “If her wound’s infected—”

“Then he fucked up. That’s exactly why you shouldn’t get him.” Cardan sounds properly commanding and haughty, an alpha born. You would never know he is actually nervous. I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or afraid that he’s such a good liar.

Because, of course, the reason not to get the Ghost is that he’s a likelier alpha than the Bomb. Because Cardan has made the same calculation I have: that the Bomb, a petite woman, is probably not a threat to me.

The Bomb frowns. “Did you check her leg?”

“Well, no…”

“Might as well, before we bother him,” says the Roach. “You know how he likes it up there in his perch.”

I send up a silent thank you to whoever might be listening. Cardan moves aside to let the Bomb enter, turning to watch her approach. When the Roach comes to the doorway, Cardan subtly shifts his weight to block half the entrance with his shoulder. If the Roach notices, he doesn’t remark on it.

“Jude,” says the Bomb, crouching down at my side in the space that Cardan had just occupied. “You okay?”

I blink and wrench my gaze over to her. I try to think of what I would normally say. After all, one time I went to school with a one hundred and two degree fever so as not to miss a history test. I only got sent home because I nearly fainted in gym. Our kidnappers wouldn’t know that, but they do know I downplayed being shot. That’s enough.

“I’m fine,” I grit out. “He’s exaggerating.”

Cardan rolls his eyes. The Bomb frowns. I am relieved that even this close, her scent does absolutely nothing for me, but maybe that’s because Cardan’s still lingers in the air. “Well, you don’t look fine.” She puts a hand to my forehead and the frown deepens. “Yeah, definitely warm. I’m going to take a look at your leg.”

I nod, although I don’t particularly want anyone crawling around anywhere near my lower body. Luckily, when she pulls the blankets aside, it’s only to my knee. “Hmm,” she says. “Nothing’s bleeding through. I don’t see anything weird.” She glances back at the door, and a look passes between her and the Roach that I don’t understand. “I’m going to unwrap it for a sec.”

“Fine,” I repeat.

Even though I do try to keep still while she does it, I can’t help but glance down. The wound looks okay. It’s scabbed over, and the skin is raw and pink at the borders, but it’s clearly healing normally. The Bomb rewraps my leg with steady hands, although not as well as the Ghost had.

“Well?” Cardan asks. Impatient, irritated. He wants everyone out of the room. “How is she?”

“Her leg’s okay,” the Bomb reports. Does anybody else realize the way they’re responding to him? Answering his questions, responding to physical cues? The chemical signals he’s sending out might not be driving anybody else here crazy, but they’re certainly having some effect, and nobody seems to know but me.

“Maybe a virus,” the Roach suggests. “Something you guys brought in with you.”

Cardan forces his face into a grimace. “I probably shouldn’t be locked in a tiny cell with her, then.”

“You might already have it, kid.”

“I feel fine.”

The Bomb and the Roach exchange another glance.

“C’mon,” Cardan presses. “I’ll be good. Plus, I kind of want to learn how to shuffle cards like you do. I’ve never seen anybody’s hands move that fast.”

I am forced to give Cardan a little credit here. I had noticed the Roach playing Solitaire, but I hadn’t really paid attention to anything else he did with the cards. And flattery is definitely a tool I haven’t mastered.

The Roach considers this, pressing his lips together. “All right,” he says at last. “You can sit across from me while the Bomb picks up some medicine for her. But so much as one sneeze and you’re back in the room.”

“Deal,” says Cardan, who glances at me. I try to force my face to remain neutral, even though, now that he’s on the verge of leaving, everything in me is screaming for him to stay. But it’s the right thing for him to go. He doesn’t want me, I don’t know what I want, and if he stays the decision will be made for us. I still ache at the idea of him leaving. Or maybe that’s just the fever.

So Cardan, and the Roach, and the Bomb all go, and I am alone. I don’t even hear anyone secure the deadbolt. I must look really wretched if they think I won’t try to escape again.

They’re right.

I turn back onto my side, wrapping the blankets tighter around me. I don’t know how much time I have before the Bomb returns, but it has to be more time than I need for this. I shove my right hand into my underwear, which is already soaked, as I know the blankets probably are and the mattress is. I should probably treat my own body with a little more care, but I can’t exactly light candles or run a warm bath, and it’s not like I ever go easy on myself.

At first I just try to look at the wall as I work, try to concentrate on the building of sensation between my thighs, but my mind keeps skipping like an old record, and every skip reminds me of the way Cardan’s dick felt against my ass. Which does arouse me more, but also makes me nervous. Alphas are supposed to be well-endowed, but I can’t imagine it fitting. I know there is a hole in me, but it’s metaphorical—the gaping maw that feeds on my accumulated trauma so I don’t have to deal with it—and while I also know biology facts like “the vaginal canal lengthens during arousal” it just doesn’t seem plausible. And anyway, none of this is sexy.

So I end up thinking about his fingers instead, even though I don’t want to think about any part of him at all. His long fingers, which are always moving, drumming on his knee, scratching at the wall, running through his hair. I think about how he said he knew his way around sex things and wonder if he could do a better job than I am doing right now. Would he be rough with me, like alphas are known to be? Or would he be gentle, with the same odd tenderness he’d shown when he tucked my hair behind my ear?

I don’t know why I break on that thought—I will never have that, he doesn’t want to give it to me, I will never know—but I do. Climax feels like shattering into a million tiny pieces. I muffle myself with the pillow, tasting dry cotton.

My face is wet, but not with sweat. I am crying. And because no one is here, I let myself cry, pretending that it’s just another symptom. That it can’t be helped. I let the tears come until they’re out of my system and my well of despair has run dry.

Then I settle in for a long and terrible day.

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jurdan fanfic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

Text

burnt snake primary + bird secondary [model?]

Hi! I have been aware of the Sorting system for a long time now but I always get stuck in typing myself. I was wondring if you could shed some light on the process.

If we go by what I score at the test, it's usually a tie between Snake and Lion primary (most likely Bird last) and Bird/Badger secondary (most likely Lion last).

Internal primary / Built secondary, I can work with that.

If we go by the "favorite characters" test then most of them are Snake primary and/or Bird secondary. I also have found that Lion doesn't exactly mess well with me, most character with a Lion anything get on my nerves but that's not a constant.

Fictional lions can be exaggerated in a way that works as a power fantasy for real lions... but I’m mostly just interested to see if the ‘favorite character’ test works out.

I've also come to realise in real life that i absolutely hate deception or betrayal especially if it comes from someone I trust/close to me.

I mean... is there anyone who is like ‘yes, I’m totally cool with people I trust betraying me.’

I also have an issue with loyalty and honesty both so I can understand why Snake/Lion is tied for my primary. My issue with Snakes is that I don't think I have this "no matter what" support. I bond with people a lot but if they don't treat me right I will push back, I will cry, I will tell them off

Snakes might have more trouble than Lions when it comes to breaking with people who mistreat them... and they might feel more conflicted and “sticky” afterwards, since being loyal to people is the base of their morality. But they will absolutely do it.

Think about a Lion changing their mind versus a Bird changing their mind. They both *do* it, but since a Bird has access to all the levels of their system, it’s all very consciously constructed, and they’re used to poking at it - change isn’t usually *that* big of a deal.

But I’m a Lion. If I’m going to change my mind, I need to smacked over my head with the lesson, usually multiple times (although I’m getting better about that...) I’m going to have a mini existential crisis (those things clear out the cobwebs.) And then I’ll be emotionally recalibrated. Snakes are internal primaries just like Lion, so their process is more like that. Dropping people is hard and emotional and sticky, but when they are dropped they are dropped. Badgers, since their *reasons* for whether or not they are responsible for someone are much clearer and more accessible, have an easier time writing people off.

if I don't get the level of intense I'm looking for I will translate that as "not caring enough" and I'll break up or if that's not possible for whatever reason i'll be miserable.

You certainly want to get Snake loyalty directed at you, and if you don’t get it, you’re miserable. And the fact that something like that would make you miserable... is making me think Snake. This is very Snake-flavored angst.

A huge sourse of pain in my life had been some things that happened with my father that I translated as him probably loving himself more than me. I always see that Snakes stay loyal to their close ones no matter what and I'm like: why would I stay unwavering to someone that hurts me?

You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t. No one should.

I didn't abandon my dad when he was sick but I'm pretty sure I was Burned and resnting him 24/7 (sorry for the heavy stuff).

Being a caregiver is INCREDIBLY hard (there’s a reason you can hire people to do it, and they’re payed so well.) Being a caregiver to a family member is even harder, and being a caregiver to a family member who’s hurt you is probably one of the hardest things a human being can do. It’s really, really not unusual at all to resent the sick person, and you should not feel guilty about it.

You also mention that Snakes understand other Snakes when they put their loved ones first and maybe in real life I do it but I have a huge example of me watching a Snake primary character not cutting off his love interest when she was awful to him from my perspective (emotional manipulation, choosing others before him, rejecting him, generally not loving him) and being LIVID about it.

I guess what I would say to you... is that even though the other primaries show their love differently, it does not mean they love any less intensely. A Badger choosing someone in need instead of you does not mean they are *not* loving you.

Generally I tend to prefer couples that have things in common and two Snake primaries together will most likely be my favorites, most of my ships are like that.

There is something very attractive about two Snakes in a relationship together, but remember that all these different primaries and secondaries do balance each other out. I tend to think that *exact* house matches make unfortunate romantic pairings. They re-enforce each other’s negative traits, get too extreme, and sometimes get stuck because they’ve only got the one way to approach, and solve a problem.

I have been very adamant about my friends not giving manipulative people the 'get go' to do whatever they want with them because I can see the indiference and the manipulation.

Manipulation is a problem solving strategy, indifference is a motive. They’re not the same thing.

I get mad when they don't listen to me eventhough I turn out to be right. Most of the times I have cut off people from my life is the reason I said preiously, that I don't think they give as much support as I do to them and they end up after a point on my "I don't need you in my life anymore" list.

I’m starting to think you’re a Burnt Snake. You are clearly Snake, and you want to distribute Snake loyalty to the people around you. But it doesn’t feel safe (probably because of baggage left over from your dad - he hurt you, so you’re scared that they will too.) So you’re hyper sensitive to anything that doesn’t feel like the most extreme devotion. And just like a Burnt Badger rejecting people preemptively, before they have a chance to fail them... you’re rejecting people because it hurts less than them rejecting you.

I think Lion gets up high because I can understand the need for following a 'cause' but in my case it's not exactly a moral cause, it's simply that I always wanted to be an actress and generally expand my knowledge on cinema/TV/theatre so I studied it. I wanted to be succesful in my job and get better and better and better. I am interested in prizes but only if they come as a recognition of my skillset (if that makes sense). I always thought that people were my priority even though the goal of achieving my dreams was always guiding me but as I grow older I'm not so sure anymore. I just know I couldn't be walking through life all alone.

This sounds like a Snake with no people (who wants people.) Without people, Snakes take care of themselves, and that often look likes job, money, prizes. (It’s where the old stereotype of “ambitious” comes from.)

When I was thinking about what I wanted to do for a living, I wanted something that would wake me up in the mornings and make me feel that my time at a job won't be wasted.

As do we all.

But I also needed for everything to be a real job, not charity for the "cause" eventhough I have worked A LOT just because I love doing some things and not ony to get paid. But I guess these things are fueled by my love and I don't see them as "profession" per se.

People? Until in we live in the Star Trek socialist utopia, you need to be paid for the work you do. Even if you’re working for a charity and even if you’re doing something you love.

Another pointer towards Lion is that I do identify with the thinking of systems and how they play a part in people's lives and how they should be changed. But I'm not sure I always did this. I think I've been Burned as well at some point (not sure if I still am) so that makes things difficult.

Yeah, you’re Burned. And sometimes Burnt Snakes will latch onto a Lion Cause, the same way that Burnt Lions will latch onto an individual’s morality. That’s actually pretty common.

The secondary thing is pretty simple imo, I think I'm a Bird but I might be Burned? I don't know if that "useful/fun" situation makes a difference for me because I always think that whatever I have collected is actually useful to me and if I got new skills, they would be useful to me as well at some point.

I don't know what else to write really, I think it's quite a lot to read already. If you have an inclination about my type I'd like to hear your opinion.

You haven’t talked at all about how you solve problems. Which might relate to burning, or it might not. But if you tend to collect skills and tools, that’s at least a Bird secondary model. <3

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #snake primary #burnt snake primary #snake pri

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