#beyond the clouds ( ooc ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iovesia · 1 year

Text

✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆ 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. you've been warned of the infamous baba yaga, and his sadistic ways. and now, with him exacting revenge on the people who've wronged him, there's no one left to stop him from collecting his prize— you.

—⠀੭୧⠀warnings⠀· ˚ ༘⠀f!reader. dark!john wick. extremely dubious consent. large age gap. allusion to kidnapping. canon typical violence. size kink. man handling. p in v. creampie.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ the new and improved fic is finally here. i had to shape up and add a few scenes for my own sanity but it's finally here. please read the warnings, this is a dark fic. john is, like, slightly ooc here but it's fineee. and sidenote, this is my longest fic yet so.. — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. keanu reeves masterlist. | main masterlist. | request rules.

"IOSEF'S DEAD."

You look up in shock, eyes widening with disbelief. “What?” you murmured in a soft voice, barely audible in the almost otherwise silent room.

“John killed him,” your bodyguard, Andrei, said bluntly. You swallow the lump in your throat as you rest your head in your hands.

“I.. I guess he got what he wanted then,” Your voice was hoarse as thousands of thoughts clouded your mind. John Wick was on the warpath. With your boyfriend dead, along with half the mob, it was only a matter of time before Viggo was buried in the ground, too.

Nobody screws over John Wick, and lives.

Almost.

YOU WERE HASTILY ESCORTED back to the Continental at the hands of the remaining living bodyguards. Locked in your room, like a dog in a cage, you stared at the dark blue ceiling and let out a shaky sigh. Iosef was dead— not that it was particularly detrimental to you.

Many would have referred to you as eye candy on his arm, rather than a girlfriend. Showering you in lavish gifts, and showing you off to the other mobsters as his prized possession; and then tossing you back in a box when he was bored of playing with you.

The minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. John Wick was coming, that you knew. But for what was still the mystery. Under Viggo’s strict orders, he ordered a guard to stand posted at your door. While his son was an ignorant brat who hardly bothered to connect with you beyond mediocre sex, his father almost thought of you as a daughter. Daughter he wished he had.

Bored with counting the number of windows in the apartment across from your hotel room, you decided to take a shower to calm your nerves. The sound of the water pounding against the tiles drowned out the noise of the outside world. You closed your eyes and let the warmth envelop you.

“Iosef, maybe if you just apologised—”

“Are you crazy? Apologise? That is your big solution?!” The blonde haired prick snapped at you, eyes crazed with fear as he hurriedly searched for his gun. “Glupaya suka.. Try to apologise to John fucking Wick, you might as well just throw yourself to slaughter.”

“Fucking asshole,” you muttered to yourself, sharply exhaling.

YOU'VE ONLY HAD the pleasure of seeing the infamous Baba Yaga a handful of times, and meeting him only once.

Four years ago. At one of Viggo’s extravaganza’s, a place filled with all the blood thirstiest associates of New York city, you managed to snag yourself an invite to the event. Being Iosef’s newest ‘conquest’, freshly nineteen and completely new to the underworld syndicate; you were the pure soul among a sea of the damned.

“Who is that?” you whisper into Iosef’s ear, gesturing to Viggo and the circle of men around him. Iosef turns to look where you’re staring, and rolls his eyes at the sight.

“John Wick,” he answers with an unimpressed scoff. You don’t miss the way he holds your hand tighter when the infamous assassin turns his glance towards you two. His darkened stare pierced into yours, and you quickly look away. A feeling of warmth washed over your cheeks as Iosef began to walk towards the group, pulling your arm to follow him.

“Iosef! There you are!” Viggo exclaimed, gesturing towards his son and you. Although you were focused on the older man’s words, you couldn’t help but feel a gaze fixated on you. “My dear, I don’t believe you two have met,” Viggo’s words snap you out of the trance, and you turn your head to the side, taking in the notorious assassin up close. His tall frame clad in a sleek, dark suit that seemed to swallow up the light around him.

“This is-”

“Wick,” his low, gruff voice speaks as he reaches for your free hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “John Wick.”

You try to contain the grin growing on your face by pulling your lower lip in between your teeth. You couldn’t ignore the sudden spark that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You were enamoured by the mysterious man, and he’s said all of three words to you.

As the evening progressed, you constantly felt the older man’s eyes following you. Occasionally you turned your head to the side and would catch him facing directly at you, only intriguing you more. You and Iosef were just about to leave when you excused yourself to the restroom.

Being the unattentive, doe eyed little thing that you were, you gasped when your face bumped against a hard chest, making you jump back a little. Apologies spew from your lips as you glanced upwards to match the face to the toned figure— immediately shutting you up.

John towered over you, a few strands of his black locks hung in front of his face as he craned his neck down at you. In the narrow hallway to the restroom, you realised there wasn’t enough space to slide past him. Before you could say anything, a pair of hands hug your waist, and John gently turns you to the side, allowing himself to pass by you. Only for a brief moment did his skin meet yours— and how you wished he didn’t let go.

THE SOOTHING WARM WATER was now scorching your skin, as you switched the valve off. Wrapping the soft towel around your wet body, you exited the bathroom.

Standing in front of your dresser, you scavenged to find anything relatively nice looking. Maybe you weren’t allowed to leave the Continental, but surely you could at least mingle at the bar. With furrowed brows, you held two different tops to your chest, focused on your reflection.

Until your eyes met another pair in the mirror.

“What the—” your head whipped behind you, simultaneously dropping the pieces of clothes to the floor as you bumped back against the mirror. You were a deer frozen in headlights. Goosebumps flourishing on your still damp skin, the draft from the window sending chills down your spine.

You watched carefully, the pair of eyes revealing its owner as he arose from the shadows of your room, making your heart drop.

“Wick,” was nothing but a whisper when it fell from your mouth.

“H-How did you get in here?” your breath shallow and your palms began to sweat as you carefully moved to stand in front of your dresser, hands desperately reaching behind your back for anything that could be used as a weapon. John ignores your question, only to slowly creep closer to you.

“Andrei, help!” You cry out, the shrill in your voice echoing off the walls. John purses his lips, taking another menacing step towards you. “Andrei—”

“He’s not gonna help you, little lamb.”

“Andrei!” You continue screaming, praying at any moment he will barge through the doors to rescue you. Your gaze switching between the exit and the assassin in front of you, you contemplate making a run for it.

Stupidly enough, your feet pound against the wooden floor, and with frightened determination, you rush towards the door. Dodging the small nightstand, you nearly trip over your feet before a sudden tug on your towel whirls you back. With a loud yelp, your back collides with the floor and a pain shoots through your side— you can already picture the bruise forming.

“Tsk, you’re gonna have to be quicker than that,” he tuts, before grabbing a hold of both your forearms and lifting you up with ease, like a ragdoll. Your hands immediately reached for your slipping towel, which nearly exposed your breasts. Pulling them up, you silently prayed for anyone in the Continental to have heard the ruckus.

“Where’s Andrei?..” Your words come out in a hushed tone, almost as if you're speaking to yourself rather than to anyone else. “What did you do to him?”

“Not important,” he replies curtly.

“I-It’s against the rules, you couldn’t have killed him—”

“It’s also against the rules to steal another man’s car, and kill his fucking dog,” he sneers in your face, his warm breath hitting your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. The terror paralyzed you and your lips quivered, the sting in your eyes ever growing.

“Let me go! Please, I haven’t done anything,” you beg pathetically. John releases you from his grasp, pushing you towards the satin covered bed. You stumble, holding tightly onto your dirty towel for a source of comfort, cowering under his intense glare as he circled you. Like a predator about to devour his prey.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

“Neither did Daisy,” he cocks a brow, pain seeping into his voice at the mention of his beloved pet. “Neither did Helen. Innocents get screwed over all the time, what’s one more?”

“Look, John. I’m really sorry for what happened—”

“You will be.”

Your eyes widened, and your throat went dry as you allowed the tears to brim your waterline. You gripped tightly at the top of your towel, holding it closer to you while you tried to maintain some dignity.

John approaches you, standing a mere few inches from your shuddering figure. Your breath hitched as his calloused hand reached for your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The assassin was towering over you, his cold eyes scanning over every inch of your body— making you all the more humiliated.

“It’s true what they say..” he mutters, his husky voice hitting your ears. “You really are the prettiest thing in New York.” His hand trailed down from your face, dragging along your shoulder blades, getting lower.. and lower… and low-

“What are you doing?” the words come out like a broken record player. If he planned to strangle you as a means to kill you— you prayed it would be quick. Your skin erupts in goosebumps, like a thousand tiny needles pricking at you, when John’s other hand connects with your side, steadily tugging the towel down.

“Looking at you. Touching you.” An eerie silence casted upon the room when the realisation dawned in. “You looked so beautiful that night. In that dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.. Thinking about you.”

His words make you shiver, and your legs clench.

“Wait!” you yelp when you feel him starting to pull the top of your towel down. John inhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. There you were, under his vice grip, pleading for his mercy with those big, bambi eyes of yours. With blood rushing to his cock, and your alluring body just begging for his touch— he could hardly wait any longer.

“Do as I say.”

And you did.

Slowly moving your arm down to your side, the other arm mimicking, the towel unravelled from your body, the quiet thud of it hitting the floor made you wince. You were now completely unravelled before him. Your nipples hardened at the cool wind, and the deep breaths you were taking only accentuated your collarbones. John could tear his gaze away even if he tried, wanting to drink in every inch of your angelic form.

Suddenly, an arm swings behind your knees, causing you to swoon backwards. The soft mattress of the bed hits your back, as John holds your knees up to your chest, putting your glistening cunt on display.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this,” John huffs, a sadistic gleam in his eyes, and you nearly gasp when he slides his index and middle finger in between your slit. Letting out an inaudible whimper as he plunges his fingers deep into your hole, you pull your lower lip in between your pearly teeth.

“J-John.. fuck.”

John, once again, ignores your mewls as he removes his fingers and grabs each knee with one hand to slowly push them apart. Heat blooming in your face, you were burning with humiliation. So vulnerable, so weak… and so wet.

Your heart beats pounding loudly in your chest, you don’t even hear his belt unbuckling or his pants hitting the floor. Through blurred vision, you gazed up into his dark irises, begging for him. To stop, or to keep going, you couldn’t tell anymore.

John leans down, his hand gliding up your torso before taking a handful of your breast as the pads of his fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. His lips collided with yours unexpectedly, his tongue darting between your lips.

“Wait. John, I can’t- you’re too big-”

“For four years… I’ve waited to finally touch you again,” he mutters against your lips, rubbing his cock up and down the entrance of your pussy, teasing you with his tip. “Ever since you showed up on his arm.” Jealous leaked into his gruff voice.

“It’s not gonna fit!” You protest. The sight of his cock between his legs sent chills down your spine.

“Beg me to be gentle.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the familiar sensation of embarrassment burning in your veins. John was determined to make every moment of this as humiliating as possible, as he drank in every little expression on your pretty face.

“Please… please be gentle with me,” you managed to stammer out.

You let out a loud mewl as John thrusts gently into you, his cock stretching out your little cunt so deliciously. Your nails were desperately clinging to John’s forearms, leaving red crescent shapes. Your breasts bounced with each hard thrust, his cock penetrating deep, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Maybe you were right.” Your neck cranes up and you catch a glimpse of his cock entering in and out of you, the small bulge in your lower stomach. Before you could speak, another high pitched moan escapes your lips when John’s fingers meet your clit, rubbing firm circles. “Think he could fuck you like this?”

You vehemently shake your head, a choked sob caught in your throat when he slams hard into you. “N-No.. mmm, fuckkk!”

“What was that? Use your words, honey” John coos, his lips to your ear as his baritone voice sends chills down your spine. The combination of his digits rubbing against your bundle of nerves along with his deep, passionate thrusts had clouded your thoughts, your mouth hung open with only sinful moans coming out. “Who do you belong to?” he purrs.

“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he suddenly stops his movements. Your back arches, craving more of his touch and begging for release.

“You! John! You!” You whine frantically, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” John whispers, his large cock entering your gaping hole as your fluttering walls clench around him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you felt your core tighten. John’s groans quietly in your ear as he continues pounding into you, his balls slapping against the swell of your ass. “My good girl. Cum for me, I want the whole hotel to hear you.”

With him still torturing your clit, you jolt at the sudden slap. “Oh— Oh my god, you, John. Y-You, only you—” your mindless babbling only made the assassin smirks deviously at your state. So dumb and cockdrunk off his dick— and only him.

The overwhelming wave of pleasure floods your body as you cream on his cock. John reaches his peak, and fills your pretty cunt with his cum and he removes his hand from your clit before gripping harshly at your hip.

You pant loudly, mind running in circles as you try to catch your breath. John’s cock stayed firmly inside you, his large hand caressing your cheek and trying to get your attention back on him.

“You did so well, little lamb,” was the last thing you heard before your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed to keep your tired body awake. Not that John minded— with you fast asleep, it would make bringing you home a lot easier.

໒꒰ྀིྀི ੭ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ꒱ྀི੭ — taglist : @desoolate @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @redhotelroom.

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#dark.josie #nsfw.josie #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick

1K notes · View notes

ode2rin · 1 year

Text

it's all me, just don't go

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. post-argument, hurt/comfort this time (^o^) | fluff too actually (?)

warnings. swearing, and probably a lil ooc rin .. well he's a bit of a loser here (i like loser men) this is also not proofread basically wrote it on a whim T_T i also listened to "afterglow" by taylor swift while writing hehe so it's a bit inspired to that

note. it's the part 2 of this | i'm supposed to be figuring this whole platform out but instead made a part 2 of the rin fic bec he got me in chokehold istg

before you could make up your mind, you felt the door knob twisting, startling you. you froze, heart pounding against your chest. as the door swung open, it revealed a distraught rin hastily trying to wear his coat.

your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time.

itoshi rin was not known for being a man of many words, but for you, he rehearsed every possible apology he could think of as he’ll search for you in every street around. he would’ve apologized a hundred times over if it meant you would return home to him. if you’re not ready to come home with him, he’ll leave you alone. he’ll leave the apartment, if it means you’ll stay where he knows you’re safe. he’ll tell you he’ll be good for you. fuck, he’ll be the best for you. he would have changed his ways, toned down his ego, anything to prove his love to you. he’ll tell you anything, just please, for the love of whatever divine forces watching over him, please come home.

he prepared a lot to say, a lot to make up for. he never prepared for a staring contest with you right now. rin’s hands ached to hold you. he wants – needs to fucking hold you so close, feel your warmth and know that you were still his. but every thought and intention he had practiced vanished in the face of your presence, leaving him at a loss for words.

rin saw the hurt in your eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in his chest. he had hurt you, and seeing the pain written so plainly on your face made him ache inside.

but the hurt in you was no longer remnants of the argument you had, it was because of your lover standing in front of you right now.

as rin’s eyes met yours, you noticed that his eyes were slightly red-rimmed and there was a streak of dried tears in his cheeks. at the realization that rin had been crying, you felt your heart lay down in pieces. you knew how rin’s mind tends to jump into the brinks of overthinking. he must’ve thought you’re never coming back, hence him leaving the apartment and going after you.

the sight of him was far from what the world thought about itoshi rin. this was no egoist.

no, this was a man, vulnerable and afraid, his heart laid bare for you to see.

and in that moment, you knew, no longer a shred of doubt clouding your mind, that you definitely seen past beyond his walls.

you wasted no time breaking the suffocating silence that enveloped you both, your voice low and small as you uttered a timid “hi.” you couldn't bear to look into rin's eyes, instead opting to cast your gaze downward as you tried to form coherent sentences. “i'm sorry for leaving,” you managed to say, your words strained with regret. “i just needed some fresh air, and i thought maybe you wanted some time alone. i'm sorry–”

before you could continue, rin's towering frame engulfed you in a tight embrace. you felt his arms wrap around you protectively, and you couldn't help but lean into him. "you have nothing to apologize for, it was on me," rin murmured, his voice soft and laced with guilt. he wondered why the hell were you even apologizing when you had done nothing wrong but love him, despite being a huge asshole.

you were about to reply, but rin beat you to it, his words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i didn't mean any of the shit i told you. i'm sorry i hurt you. i lashed out at you for things you never did, and i took it out on you because i was scared over something so fucking lukewarm." you could hear the sniffling between his words, but you didn't mention it, instead burying your face further into his chest as he held you tighter.

rin's grip on you intensified, as if he was afraid he'd lose you if he let go. he took your silence as a cue to cradle your face in his palms and press your foreheads together, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“i’m sorry. i’ll be good to you, y/n. just please, don’t leave..” me. rin couldn't bring himself to say it, the mere thought of losing you driving him to the brink of madness.

he closed his eyes, unwilling to see your face and see a trace of rejection or any thought of you leaving him. for a moment, it felt like rin couldn't even breathe. the silence between you was again suffocating, and he knew he needed to hear something, anything. "please, y/n. say something," he implored, desperation evident in his tone.

“open your eyes, rinnie” at the sound of his nickname rolling off your lips, he hesitantly opened his eyes to look at you.

glad he did, because you’re smiling.

it took one smile. one fucking smile from you, and itoshi rin felt he can breathe again.

“will you let me let you go?”

“fuck no.”

you let out a small chuckle at the speed of his answer, all with his familiar snarky voice. you placed your hands in his cheeks and you can see the relief wash over rin's face at the gesture.

he looks at you as if you're his lifeline, and in this moment, you are.

“you better not. because i’m not going anywhere, rin.” you say, your voice filled with conviction.

“i'm never letting you go,” he whispers, his eyes still locked onto yours.

you both stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your embrace. for the first time in a while, everything feels right.

tomorrow, you know there will be more apologies and a lot of talking. tomorrow, both of you will try harder to be better for each other. and tomorrow, hand in hand, you and rin will face whatever lies ahead.

but tonight, both of you will let your fragile hearts hold on to each other and your frantic minds to be at peace in each other’s arms. tonight, itoshi rin will spend every second convincing himself that you’re his to love and here to stay. tonight, he will love you better.

#☁️ my ode to you #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock x reader fluff #itoshi rin x reader fluff #pls take it easy on me i'm new here and i don't know shit #i'll cry

1K notes · View notes

jiejies-corner-store · 23 days

Note

THE AVENTURINE FIC 😭😭 OH GOSH IM CRYING 😭😭

i’m so sorry, anon! here this should make it up 😭😭 the devil knows you're dead

pairing. aventurine x reader

tags/tw: fem!reader, references to a complicated childbirth, mother!reader, father!aventurine, spoilers to aventurine's real name, spoilers in reference to 2.1 trailblaze questline, aventurine’s nihilism and depression, references to death, hurt/comfort, ooc aventurine probably, i make shit up at the end because i want a happy ending—bite me.

sfw

a/n: ouchie. i finished 2.1 and it hurt. it hurt a lot. the ost for the “all the sad tales” is genuinely so beautiful. the trumpet just feels so melancholy yet hopeful it just goes so perfectly with aventurine’s story. but i need something that feels good now. ABSOLUTELY NOT PROOF-READ pt. 1

“As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.”

It was cold. Cold and warm. Almost feverish feeling. The type of feeling you’d get when you were freezing but your skin was hot to the touch. There was this frustrating beeping noise somewhere off in the distance that you just couldn’t tune out, finally you opened your eyes to see a sea of darkness, and seemingly at an unreachable horizon, a large circle of white light that looked like a gate.

“You’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice came from beside you. How you didn’t realize there was a whole person standing next to you, you had no clue.

“Well, that’s not originally what I was going for, but now I’m a bit worried I might be,” you laughed, nervous, but curious all the same. This… person you couldn’t quite make out an exact face, or even a body for that matter, but ther was this distinct feeling that it was in fact a person. Like your instinct knew, but your brain couldn’t quite fill in the details.

“This is a place beyond mortal comprehension, if I tried to explain it to you, you would only be more confused. Walk with me,” the entity said, and without even willing your body to do so, you followed. Ripples emanated from each step as you followed and soon the inky void around you melted into an unfamiliar planet.

The sky was a deep purple, streaked with red that looked like lighting that crackled along the sky. Instead of the fluid, black ground, sand now shifted as you moved foward. Inside a small hut made of rock, you saw a woman cradling a swaddled child.

“Such a lucky child, such a blessed child… Just like your name. A gift from THEM to Avgin… my boy…”

You turned to the figure beside you and hesitantly asked, “Where are we?”

“A land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears,” the entity responded cryptically, which only caused a crease in your brow. You went closer to the mother in the hut and sat next to her. She whispered a blessing onto her child, but none of the words made sense to your ears. Similar to the entity, it’s like your brain scrambled them from your understanding.

The mother cried. You tried to wrap your arms around her to comfort her but only phased through her like a ghost. The baby too began to cry.

Then, the scene changed again, suddenly it was a cell with iron bars. A blond young man sat next to you. The blond’s gaze was downturned, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“—Thirty tanba… that’s all my life is worth.”

“That’s not…” you said, but realized it was all in vain. You tried again to take Kakavasha’s hands into your own. You wantd to take the cuffs off his wrists and cradle where the skin was rubbed raw.

“It's all or nothing…”

“Kakav—agh!”

Your future never existed You█ future never existed You█ future ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er ████ted You█ fut███ █e█er ████ted Yo██ ██████ █e█er ████ted

Your mind felt clouded, a searing headache, followed by an inability to even pin down a coherent thought. The scene shifted once more.

“What’s going on!” you shouted at the figure that stood only silently next to you, crippled on the ground, clutching at your head, fingers pressing in to try to find the spot that would alleviate this awful pressure.

When your senses were no longer blinded by pain, you were back to that inky void you started in, but this time you weren’t alone. Not far away, maybe twenty feet or so, was your Kakavasha, and a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Why are we born into this world if it's just to die?”

You stumbled to your feet to try to run to him, but with each step closer he only got further away. He walked towards that gate of light. In your head, you heart was pounding faster and faster. You failed to catch up to him. He only got further and further away until he disappeared like fireflies dispersing into the night, “Kakavasha! No—!”

Utterly devastated, you sunk back onto your knees. You didn’t know why but you had this distinct feeling of loss. Tears rolled from your eyes freely. He… he wasn’t gone surely? The entity’s presence reappeared next to you.

“Why did you show me all of this,” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted an answer.

“Because you need to go back,” the entity answered and your jaw locked, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt.

You screamed into the void, “You’re the one who brought me here!”

“I never call anyone to me… you mortals believe that it is US that determine when your time to go is… but in truth it is your own doing, whether it is your body or your mind that gives up first,” the entity said, “It is only the strength of your will that will allow you to continue down your destined path… but many give up on that path and someone else must be chosen.”

“What does this have to do with me,” you snapped. “Why are you meddling in my life? What does Kakavasha have to do with this?”

“Kakavasha still has a long road ahead of him. I have supplemented his journey all his life. It was only recently he was able to live on his own will,” said the entity ”Your body is giving up. I do not have the power anymore to keep him alive. That lies with you.”

Your surroundings melted again. You were in a hospital room and on the bed was you. Eyes closed and steadily breathing, but your heartbeat was weak. The annoying beeping from before was louder and more prominent.

“You wanted to help him. During his past, you reached out each time. There is nothing you can do about that now, but the future and the present… you still have a choice.”

Laying a hand on your unmoving body, there was a slight resistance, but with just a bit more pressure you felt as if you could phase through it entirely.

“What do I need to do,” you asked the entity.

“Live.”

You furrowed your brow at that. Of course you wanted to live… right? The entity gestured for your hand, you obliged. Against your palm was an oddly soft feeling. Warm. Like a mother’s touch against your’s. Your palms pressed together, the entity spoke,

“May the goddess Gaiathra close HER eyes three times… Keep your blood eternally pulsing… Let your journey be forever peaceful… …and your schemes forever concealed."

You lifted your head and your “body” began to disappear similar to how Kakavasha disappeared. Just before you disappeared into sparks of golden light, you had the sense about you to ask:

“Who are you?” you felt like you were shouting, but your voice was quiet.

“You could call me Fenge Biyos.”

You opened your eyes with a deep gasp for air. Your surroundings were blurry, and you rubbed at your eyes, only to realize Kakavasha was up, standing next to your hospital bed with an anxious expression, hands already grasping the one that was wiping crust from your eyes.

“You’re awake,” he choked out, holding you as if you would break, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I did this to you that I—”

“Kakavasha, slow down, what… why are you—no, don’t be sorry,” you finally found your words, sitting foward on the bed to wrap your arms around him. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what was going on. Your mind was still foggy, but finally that haze disappated and you remembered everything leading up to now.

“Kakavasha~” you hummed in a song-like tone, a small wrapped box with a blue and purple bow tied around it. You skipped over to his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders where he sat, and placed the gift in front of him, laying your head on his shoulder as your arms tightly hugged him. “I have a surprise.”

He smiled with a small laugh, “Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?” He pecked a kiss onto your check before pulling the bow off and opening the lid of the box, when he froze.

The smile on your face faltered bit when he didn’t say anything after a bit. The corners of it tightened into a more forced position, “Kakavasha? You’re gonna be a papa…”

The joy in his face from earlier had completely vanished. Only replaced by a stony, cold, poker face. He pushed his chair back and you stumbled into the wall behind. He gave you a tight smile and kissed your forehead before heading for the door and grabbing his hat. “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you at a loss as you fell into his chair, feeling suddenly so very empty in this large office alone.

He came back after that, apologetic for leaving you, but nothing felt truly right. He continued to reassure you that he did want to have this child, but it was a strenous time. The entire pregnancy was stressful. The doctors warned you that the level of stress you were under put you at risk for a premature birth, but you brushed them off. It was just the hormones, you were sure. Kakavasha still loved you. The ring on your finger should’ve been proof enough of that.

“How about the name Ilyas?” you suggested, laying your head on Kakavasha’s lap, “I was… looking at some databases about Avgin names and I thought that one was nice. What do you think?”

Aventurine hummed, but his mind seemed elsewhere. You let it go.

The next few months continued on in similar fashion.

But it all came to a head.

The two of you were standing in the kitchen. It had started off small. The hormones and the stress were getting to you. It was an off hand comment about him not fixing dinner, and you were tired and hungry from carrying around his child.

From there it had escalated. It turned into you were tired of feeling like you were walking on eggshells when you talked about the pregnancy. About how he was barely around for the appointments, and when he was he seemd emotionally distant… finally he exploded

“I never asked for this!” he shouted. “When did I ever say I wanted to be a father? Did you even ask me? Did you think about what I felt about this whole thing at all?”

You paused, feeling tears well up in your throat as a white-hot fear flashed through your body. You laughed, a hollow sound, “I’m sorry, Aventurine, I thought it took two people to make a baby? And you certainly made no attempt to use protection.”

He didn’t have anything to say about that. Even though the argument seemed over, you felt a nauseous feeling crawling up in your throat. Your tears felt like acid burning through your skin. Then a pain in your stomach. Your knees gave out and the last thing you remember was the scared expression on Kakavasha’s face before it all went dark.

“I was scared…. I was so scared that bringing another Avgin into this world would only bring misfortune onto you… that Gaiathra Triclops would take you from our child, just like my mother was taken from me,” he openly cried into your shoulder. “I took it out on you. I made something that should’ve been a beautiful experience something that was awful, and I understand… if you never forgive me for that but please…. please don’t leave.”

Now you were crying with him, one hand tangled in his blond locks and the other rubbing his back. Quietly, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “I can’t lose you too.”

You thought for a long time. In front of you wasn’t one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC. Not a calculating or cunning man, who’s only interest was in things that benefited the IPC’s bank accounts. In front of you was a broken man, who’d had everything stripped away from him when he was only a child. Who was shattered and forced to put his life back together with nothing but fear and anxiety as glue.

Did it excuse what he'd broken?

No.

“I’m here… I won’t leave Kakavasha,”

But maybe with time and effort, you could help re-glue each other with something a little more beautiful.

“Ilyas! Don’t run so far!” you called after a small blond haired child who was already ahead of you by a longshot, you turned exasperatedly to your husband, “Honey, can you go after him please? I don’t want him to get trampled by some idiot who’s not paying attention…”

The man only smiled at you, one hand firmly wrapped around your ever expanding waist, “It’s okay. There’s some of my squad that’s following him incognito. He won’t get out of our sights without them dragging him back. We can let him get his energy out. He’ll be cooped up in a hospital soon.”

You huffed conceded. Already tired from just getting through the theme park’s entrance. You were due in about two weeks, but Kakavasha was insistent that a week before you’d be under hospital supervision until you brought your second child into the world. It had taken about five years before the two of you had healed enough and there were roadbumps along the way… but you were both ready to give Ilyas a little sister.

But for now, the two of you wanted to let Ilyas have one more day as an only child. The reconstructed Penacony was nothing like the Dreamscape of the past. Fear and secrets no longer were trapped in the gilded cage of the former prison planet. With the help of the IPC and the Harmony, New Penacony was entirely real. No more dreams, just reality. They’d kept many of their old franchises and built a true theme park.

“Mama!! Picture! Let’s get a picture here before we go in!” Ilyas screeched, pointing at Clockie statue in front of the Clock Studios main attraction. You set a hand on Kakavasha’s arm, glancing up at him to try to get a read on what he was feeling. He’d let you in on the parts of his past that he’d kept a secret. The scheme behind Penacony, his proposed “death” and his encounter with his Past and Future.

He took a breathe and looked back down at you, giving you a smile that said “I’m okay” and relief flooded your bones. After walking you over in front of the camera, he crouched down and scooped Ilyas into his arms.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked and you nodded. After a brief countdown the camera flashed, and for a moment in that bright light, you saw the hopeful future that lied ahead.

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #aventurine x you #hsr 2.1 #penacony

322 notes · View notes

bea-ce · 1 year

Text

If only I could make you believe you deserve everything

pairing: kaveh x reader (can be read platonically or romantically)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

summary: life is awful at times. very much so that you end up falling back to bad habits to get you through it. luckily, you have kaveh to help you guide back to the right track.

word count: 4.2k

notes: hii!! first post! (and its hurt/comfort RAHHHH) kaveh might be a little ooc as i havent gotten to him in the archon quest yet, so i apologize for that in advance! i poured my heart and soul and my own personal experiences into this,, i apologize if the comfort is a lil wonky.

title is inspired by Nicole Dollanganger’s song “Please Eat”.

trigger warning(s): mentions of ed/having an ed, descriptive experience of having an ed, mentions of relapsing into unhealthy coping mechanisms, self inflicted harm (self harm), descriptions of self-contempt, descriptions of feelings of unworthiness.

let me know if i missed any warnings

It had been a while since the last time you’d done this. The thought of even returning back to this state was beyond you. Everything had been going so well it seemed. Sure, life still threw inconveniences towards you, but you handled them just fine, you thought.

Clearly not, as you’re now back to restraining yourself from eating and indulging yourself from something that’s vital for you to live. You knew the risks of refusing yourself food, you’d read all about the consequences and health risks of starving yourself.

Yet that is the precise reason you’re doing this.

You know how harmful this is and you know it’s bad. The knowledge of the dangers and harm in doing it is exactly why you continue doing it though: It’s your punishment. A sigh escapes your lips as you try concentrating on the paper that lay before you instead of the numbness that starts taking over your legs and the quivering of your hand. There isn’t any way for you to not notice how your body is screaming out for something to eat. It’s constantly reminding you as your vision is clouded with dark spots whenever you move and how your body shakes as you do any everyday task. Despite its cries for food, you ignore it and open the lid to the water bottle beside you and empty half of it to ignore the ache in your stomach due to its emptiness.

It helps, somewhat, as it fools your stomach for sometime at least. In a shaky motion you place the water bottle beside the pile of assignments you have to finish before the end of this week.

It’s difficult to get anything done when the ache in your stomach extends to the rest of your body, making the most simple task like reading over the text presented in front of you and writing down notes feeling so incredibly demanding on your body. A groan escapes your lips as you lean back into the chair and drag your hand across your face in annoyance. You need to finish these assignments, yet you can’t. Everything feels so hazy and your mind is blank, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of hunger growing more intense.

The bustling from the kitchen can be heard all the way into your room. Usually at this hour you’d sit by the kitchen table and eat with Alhaitham and Kaveh, but you’ve locked yourself away in your room, drowning yourself in work to ignore the deep wretched feelings that linger within you. A faint knock on the door echoes throughout the room as a voice calls out from the other side. It’s Kaveh’s voice, calling out to you. "(Y/N)?" Your name is muffled by the closed door as you turn around in your seat to look at the source of the sound. There stands Kaveh, holding a plate with food in his hand while the other one is still gripping onto the door handle.

Your eyes quickly scan his face before they dart down to look at the plate he’s holding.

It’s too much, you think as you look at the contents of the food. Numbers appear inside your head the longer you stare at the plate, feeling repulsed at the thought of putting anything in your mouth and fulfilling your hunger at the cost of the imaginary numbers going up.

You turn around to face the paper you’ve been staring blankly at for the last hour, waving Kaveh off. “I’ve already eaten.” You answer courtly. You haven’t, but telling him you weren’t hungry wasn’t an option. Kaveh would be reluctant had you answered that you weren’t hungry and placed the food by your table instead. The thought alone that he might do that makes you want to cry and scream in panic. You can’t risk letting yourself indulge in the food that he’s made: You must go through with your own punishment.

Kaveh sighs and grabs the door handle, about to leave and close the door before the sound of your stomach growling bounces off the walls. He stops in his tracks as his grip on the plate tightens. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you tense up at how your stomach contradicts your words from earlier. A deep terror stirs within you as your thoughts wander off to all the possible reactions you might receive from the blond man at the revelation. You hear how he shuffles behind you and closes the door behind him as he approaches you. You dare not to turn around to look at him, instead you hold up your face above the paper and stare intently onto it, trying to focus on the words that dance around across the paper to ignore Kaveh’s look of pity and concern.

Kaveh is standing right next to you, his grip on the plate is so incredibly tight that his knuckles have gone white. His eyes are soft and laced with worry as he looks down on you, and to be honest; he’s not sure how to handle this situation he’s being faced with right now. He places the plate next to your bedside table instead of the table in front of you, knowing better than shoving unwanted food up your face. It’s not what you need right now.

Kaveh sits on the side of your bed, boring his eyes into the back of your head as he waits for you to do the first move, to begin the conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you off now that he’s found out. He can feel the pain within you. He can see the hurt and the desperation, but he has no words to fill the silence. He doesn't know how he could possibly help you, but he wants to. More than that, he wants to try.

“I’m fine” you try to subside the situation, playing it off to only being a one time thing when it’s clear to the both of you that it isn’t.

Kaveh interrupts you. “You’re not fine.” Kaveh still has the same gentleness to him, but there’s a certain amount of firmness to his words too. It leaves no room for you to slither your way out of his confrontation. “Are you hurting yourself? Are you starving yourself?”

The words feel like he had just physically assaulted you, as if he had pulled out a knife and stabbed you in the chest while twirling the knife around inside of your heart. The words feel as if Kaveh had just falsely accused you of a crime you hadn’t committed.

But the two of you know better than that. You both know that the reason you feel so attacked is because Kaveh is calling you out, and rightfully so.

“No! No. I am not starving myself.” The words come out much harsher than you had intended them to be, sounding defensive and giving yourself away to Kaveh. The pile of paperwork that needs to be done stares at you mockingly as you look down on the paper in front of you that is still blank.

“I’m just- I don’t want to eat.” It’s half the truth. You do in fact not want to eat, but it’s for all the wrong reasons you don’t want to eat. Kaveh sighs as he gets up from your bed and walks up behind you. For a moment he almost reaches out to you, but he draws his hand back and places it on your chair instead of your shoulder, like he had intended to. He’s reluctant to touch you. In this moment right now, you’re fragile, and he must tread carefully so as to not break you.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” His voice is gentle, but there’s a certain edge to it. It cuts right through any excuses that might slip past your mouth to escape this conversation neither of you want to have. The words have you cornered, and as if you were reliving an experience much like this -where you were confronted and you admitted, only to be rejected from the care and help you needed- you feel a need to run away from him. To run away from your home, from the house, run, run and run. But where would you run? There’s no way for you to run away from him, and even if you did: Where would you run?

Would you even have the energy to run away from him with the way your vision would cloud with black spots covering your sight and with the way your legs feel numb?

Reality hits you like a brick as you realize that Kaveh has you cornered and at his mercy.

A hitched breath escapes your lips as you feel your hands and feet going cold along with being overcome by dreadfulness as the situation you’re in slowly sinks in.

“This is unhealthy, and you know it, don’t you?” It’s not much of a question really. His voice is firm, trying to cover up his own shakiness as your condition dawns upon him. “Please.. could you talk to me?” he pleads, letting his hand fall from the chair, down to your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. The contact makes you flinch as it pulls you back from your swarm of thoughts, back into the present with him. The words seem stuck in your mouth, suffocating you and preventing you from voicing your thoughts and feelings that you’re left only shaking your head at his request of opening up. Kaveh lets out a sigh as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder. For a moment, you think he’s given up on you and will leave you alone to deal with your misery by yourself; the thought causes you both pain and relief. Instead, he walks around your chair and crouches next to you as he looks up to you from below.

“Please. Talk to me.” he begins as he balances himself on the armrest all while tilting his head up at you. “What can I do to help you? You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know!” you finally exclaim as your face falls into your hands. You inhale shakily as Kaveh continues to inspect your face for something, anything.

“I don’t.. know.”

Everything around you spins like an unpleasant merry-go-round ride as your vision becomes clouded by the black spots appearing before you.

One of the consequences of not eating, you suppose.

How you wished that you could’ve kept this secret from him a little longer. Long enough for him to not have to have this confrontation with you right now.

Kaveh can only feel pity as he looks at you. You look so fragile right now, so weak. It hurts him to see you so, to see your body shaking from your hunger.

He has a question that he wants to ask, but he feels afraid to. You don't owe him anything, he supposes.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" How do you ask someone why they are harming themselves? How do you say that without it coming across in a terrible way? Kaveh had an immense sense of empathy, but even that had its limits.

"I deserve it."

The words slip out your mouth with ease, as if the question had no other answer but that. Tears that you had been holding back from the moment your secret was out swell up in your eyes and threaten to fall down on the blank, empty paper sheet that should’ve been filled in by now. The dripping of your tears resounds in your head and you pray that Kaveh doesn’t hear how you’re covering your paperwork in tears.

"I deserve it." You repeat the words shakily this time as a sob finally manages to escape your mouth. All you want to do is make yourself as small as possible so you can just vanish from the earth’s surface. But you can’t.

So you do the next best thing, which is curling yourself into a ball while you let the tears flow down your cheeks as your entire form tenses up and shakes from the anguish you feel inside of you.

Several feelings washes over Kaveh. Ones of confusion, concern and guilt.

You don't deserve this.

Nobody deserves to feel so low. And you are so, so very low: starving yourself just as a punishment.

He can't help but feel pity for you. The words come out before he can even stop them from slipping past his lips: "Why do you deserve it?"

He's trying to be kind and supportive, he really is, but it's painfully hard for him to find the right words. It’s difficult seeing a loved one tear themselves apart in front of him all while thinking they deserve to suffer and break.

His question is one not even you can answer. It’s a question that you’ve pondered about whenever you’ve come to your senses after having breakdowns much like these, and each time you’re left with no answer. There's only that part of you, that little tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you that you deserve nothing less than pain and suffering. That this is the only way for you to get rid of the mental turmoil you experience on a daily basis.

That the only way to get rid of the emotional and mental pain is to double the physical pain, and what easier way is there to feel physical pain if it isn’t to inflict it upon yourself; by yourself?

How do you help someone who believes that?

It's not like you can just tell them that they don't deserve it. How could he ever convince you that you’re wrong? How can he convince you that there's a better way than starving and hurting yourself?

How is any of this supposed to be okay for you?

"(Y/N)," he calls out your name, the sound of his voice pleading yet somehow still kind, "(Y/N). There is no reason to hurt yourself. You deserve better."

As if you weren’t already curled into a ball you only manage to make yourself smaller as you cry, your entire form shaking. It's not till now that he's so up close to you that he sees how your body is covered in goosebumps and the bruises that linger across your body. They look self-inflicted and Kaveh can't help but let out a wince as he looks at the bruises that cover your skin.

He tries his hardest to contain his horror at seeing what you’ve done to herself. It looks so painful, so terrible, but it's clear from your shivering, from your shaking, from the way your face crumples - from the way you curl up into a ball so easily - that this isn't your first time.

You’re hurting, and at your own hand.

He doesn't know how to process that. He has never seen anyone do this to themselves. He can't imagine how any of this could be good.

Your grip on your legs only grows tightens as you cry into your knees, on the verge of wailing from feeling how your heart aches. It’s as if someone is tightening their grip on your already fragile heart, and it hurts so very much.

You could handle feeling hungry, and you could handle inflicting pain upon yourself, littering your body with bruises to show for it. Yet you couldn’t handle the feelings inside of you that were crushing you and tearing you apart. You had learnt to handle your inner turmoil by ignoring the feelings until they grew so great that the only way to rid yourself of the demons surrounding you was to hurt them through yourself.

The relief was only temporary, sure, but you’d do anything for the moment of peace in your inferno called your own mind.

He sighs heavily, the sound filled with regret and pity. Kaveh doesn’t say anything and remains looking up to your face as you quickly unravel before him.

This is beyond him. He doesn't know how to comfort you- how to help you. He has no idea what to say or what to do. It’s all so overwhelming - all these feelings of fear and confusion and pity and care - that he doesn't even know how to begin to process, let alone express.

He places a gentle, comforting hand on your knee as you continue to cry. You’re so up in your own thoughts and emotions that you can’t get yourself to pull away from his touch.

It’s not that his touch wasn’t comforting. It was very comforting. And that was exactly why you wanted to pull away from his touch.

You don’t deserve that kind of comfort.

"I'm sorry.." the words come out so weak, putting your broken state on full display for Kaveh. A sob escapes your mouth as you try your best regaining your composure to no avail. Each breath you try and take control over gets interrupted by a sob or a gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you repeat as you burrow your face further into your knees. Your words are slurring as you’re choking back your cries to get the words out of your mouth.

Kaveh doesn't even understand what you could possibly have to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You've committed no sins worth feeling so terrible for.

But how does he tell you that? How could he convince you of the truth that appears so clearly to him but isn’t as obvious for you?

He doesn't.

How does he convince you to get past these terrible feelings of wrongness, when you’re so very convinced that it's your punishment? How does he convince you to give yourself kindness and care, when you believe yourself so unworthy? How does he make you realize that this isn't your fault, that you haven't done anything that deserves all of this?

Kaveh moves closer to you - so carefully, so slowly. As if you’re something fragile, to be treated with respect and care. Because you are fragile. You’re hurt, and you’re so, so small. All he wants to do is to hold you, to bring you comfort, to hug you, to hold you in his arms. He just wants to lift your heavy burden off of your shoulders. But he doesn’t reach out to do any of that, it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so right now as you’re sobbing in front of him and curling yourself into a ball.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "You're hurting yourself, and that can't be okay. Please," he adds, his voice pleading, "Let me try to help you. You don't have to do this. You don't deserve to do this."

You had always had a hard time accepting other people’s kindness and comfort, it was extremely difficult for you to understand and wrap your head around the concept of being treated with decency and care from another being without expecting anything back in return. The feelings overwhelm you and you feel how you want to throw up from Kaveh’s attentiveness, it’s all too much for you.

You’d rather have him walk out on you and leave you in your pitiful state to fend for yourself. It’s what you’re used to. And when he breaks what you consider a norm, your world falls apart with it.

The tears flow down your cheeks as if they’ll never come to an end.

Kaveh can see it from the way you gasp and wail when his words of care finally register.

It’s written all over your face - your pain, your hurt - it’s clear that you’re not used to being treated with such care and attention. It’s clear that this isn’t something you’re used to; it’s clear that you’re not used to having someone trying to help you.

It breaks Kaveh’s heart to see you struggle like this. He doesn’t know how he can get you to accept this treatment from him, from anyone.

He wants nothing in return; he only wants to help. How can he get you to understand that? How could he ever assure someone that they’re deserving of unconditional care and love when that very someone is so fully convinced that they deserve pain?

"You need help," he says quietly. "Let me help you."

Why do you deserve to suffer, to hurt yourself, when you’ve done nothing wrong? Why are you so cruel to yourself? Kaveh lets the thought wander in his head for some time before he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t come to any reasonable conclusion as to why you’d be so cruel to yourself. He could only speculate.

Is this why you hurt yourself? The thought intrudes him, as he tries to stay focused on comforting you.

Because you feel like you don’t deserve kindness?

But why? Why wouldn't you deserve kindness? This isn't because of any mistakes you’ve made, is it? Has someone made you believe this? Or is it something that you’ve always thought? Either way, you’re wrong. You deserve kindness. You deserve the world.

You deserve to be treated well.

"You deserve so much better," he says quietly, "You aren't pitiful. I promise you that you are so much more than what you tell yourself you are."

Kaveh places his hands on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. Another sob escapes your lips at his attempts to soothe your ache. He can feel the way you tremble under his hands as he gives you a gentle squeeze of comfort to stabilize your quivering form, even if it's just by a little bit. He keeps rubbing, still trying to help you. Neither of you say anything and the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of your rapid breathing and hitched sobs. And while the tremors still persist, your sobs are becoming less frantic. He thinks he might be comforting her just slightly, but it's good enough for now. At least it’s a start.

Kaveh wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He doesn't want to sound like an idiot. But he also doesn't want to stay silent.

He cannot bear to see you like this, and he doesn't want to imagine how much pain you’ve been carrying for you to end up here like this.

He wants so badly for you to be okay. He wants nothing more than to give you his care and comfort. Kaveh gets up from his crouching position and feels his legs tingle from sitting like that for so long, but he ignores it. It’s not important right now. What is, is you and your wellbeing.

He assumes that if you responded positively to having him rub your hand, then maybe you'd respond better to affectionate comfort. Kaveh is reluctant at first. A hug is much more personal, much more intimate than drawing circles on someone's palm. So he asks.

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

You tense up at the request reluctantly. Granted, you and Kaveh would usually greet one another by giving a quick hug with a pat on the back before getting to it. But this was different. Much different from those lighthearted moments you’d share before you go off to wherever you had planned on doing for the day, whether that was taking a walk amongst the streets of the city or just enjoying one another's presence as you work deliberately.

You’re hesitant, and Kaveh is about to reassure you that it’s fine if you don’t want to until he sees a small nod coming from you. Your eyes quickly dart down to meet his before you avert your gaze from him, feeling the shame and embarrassment crawl along your back amongst the other feelings that roam inside of you.

Kaveh is quick to act as he pulls you into his embrace.

He holds you protectively, as if he just holds you close enough to him he'll be able to shield you from the cold, cruel world that's hurt you so. You just want to hold on to him. Just wants him to hold you, to hug you and hold you close to him.

The warmth is so comforting, so very comforting that the little voice in your head tells you that you aren't worthy of this kind of affection. That you don’t deserve to be cared for like this, and a part of you still holds onto that truth. Despite that, you cling onto him as if he were your lifeline, the very last thread that was keeping you from floating away. You want this- you’ve been yearning for someone to hold you like this, and even though a loud part of you disagrees- that part of you that tells you that you’re not deserving of this- you can’t help but bask in his warmth that he provides for you.

The plate on your bedside table catches his eye, long forgotten. The food had obviously gone cold by now. Whatever, Kaveh thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can always just warm it up later. What matters is that he helps you back on your feet and support you through this.

You don’t have to fend for yourself anymore. He’s here now, and he’ll help you through it. He may not be capable of chasing away your demons for you, but you’ll always have his endless support.

He’ll spend an eternity if it means he could make you believe that you deserve everything.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh comfort #kaveh angst #kaveh hurt/comfort #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin comfort #genshin impact comfort #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

435 notes · View notes

rivenbellator · 7 months

Text

Do You Fight?

Jonggun Park

cw/tw: canon typical violence, probably ooc, x reader, no mention of y/n or other abbreviations, mild sex jokes, generally sfw, third person perspective

At the end of the corridor stood a looming figure, clad in a suit and demonic eyes that peered straight through your being. He stood there like a ghost, an dark entity haunting the edges of your vision. Each slow, agonising step he took echoed around the hall, slowly fading beyond the darkness of it.

At the other end stood a woman, dressed in black, her eyes a nonchalant stare. She walked the hall in full strides, her own steps landing but never echoing, a silenced gun in the midst of a desolate strip.

"Park Jonggun," her head tilted upwards as she peered at him through her lower lashes.

He didn't respond, remaining straight faced in the presence of the intruder, halting his steps. She continued her strides towards him, her boots leaving a soft thud with each footfall. "Choi sent me here," Gun loosened up at the name, "said he had a demon running around doing his bidding."

The gentle thuds finally stopped as she planted herself but a few metres from him.

"What does he want?" He inquired dully, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. A gentle click, a bright orange flame, and the cigarette was lit. He took a drag and blew the smoke at her purposefully.

She squinted at him disapprovingly, her face screwing up in disgust as she waved her hand at the white smog. "Not even asking for my identity?" she scoffed at him, "didn't expect Choi's men to be this sloppy."

Gun looked sorely unimpressed, "what does he want?" he reiterated.

"Something about the four crews- uh..." she muttered to herself for a moment before taking a notepad from the pocket of her pants and flipping to a page. Gun tapped his foot impatiently, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Choi wants you to get stricter with the four crews, and he wants you in for a meeting," she pocketed the notepad awaiting his response.

"So... is that a yes or no?"

"Aren't you the one that's sloppy?" He smirked condescendingly.

She turned on her heel, shaking her head, "I'll take that as a yes, you can ask Choi for the details of the meeting."

The air was silent for a moment, a tense atmosphere washing over the both of them.

"Do you fight?"

Desks strewn around a dimly illuminated room, shattered glass, and the sickly metallic scent of blood.

"So you do fight."

She grunted from her slumped position against the wall, blood dribbled down from her nose, a scowl forming on her face.

"Isn't there etiquette to this? You should let the lady have the first strike," she chuckled to herself, the sound reverberating through her chest.

"You blocked," Gun stated, as if it was unusual, abnormal.

"Yes, that's how this works," her forearms throbbed from the force of his punch, the red marks a tell-tale sign of his brutality.

She stood up, using her knees as leverage, and got into a defensive stance. Gun just stood there, squinting at her as if trying to decipher every single thing about her. She would give away nothing.

A kick was thrown, then a punch, multiple knees, and an elbow. Few of her hits landed, but when they did, Gun would wince. Each hit that did land created a sharp sound. The only sounds she made that would echo.

A head kick, and his shades crumbled, whether it was from the hand that blocked or the foot that kicked was unclear.

He looked angry.

Gun threw a right hook, and her body skidded into the chalkboard, white, dusty residue, creating a soft cloud around her.

Gun appeared out of nowhere, throwing a jab at her head, which she barely dodged, a dent left in the board where her head was.

Then, it ensued, a flurry of kicks, knees, elbows, hooks, and the like, each with the lethality to maim and kill one another.

"You think I can outrun you?" She asked, propping her arms up in front of her face again.

"No."

"Yeah, I thought so," Gun hurled another fist at her. She parried his scarred hand and aimed for a knee to his jaw.

It hit.

Gun was sent stumbling back, clutching his jaw and glaring up at the woman. "Fuck, that hurt."

"It wasn't supposed to," she muttered sarcastically, rolling her wrist. It was beginning to swell, injured somewhere in the storm of hits.

Gun stood up, shook himself out, and took a seat in one of the flimsy plastic chairs and sprawled his legs out. The woman remained standing in the corner of the classroom, nursing an injured wrist.

"Shit, think you fractured my wrist. Do you do this to all women your first night with them?" She laughed to herself, but obviously, the joke didn't hit.

Gun grumbled out a few curses to himself, a hand attached to his reddened jaw.

He looked at her pointedly. She didn't seem at all frightened by the voidness of his eyes or the scar that was set between them.

"You wanna know my name now? So you can sue me for assault?"

"Yeah, so tell me your name," he looked her in the eye, dead serious, and she couldn't help but burst into manical laughter, leaning against the wall for support.

"You're funny, you know?" She said, wiping blood and sweat from her face, simultaneously taking a business card from her breast pocket and flinging it at him.

"I doubt it," he caught the card, barely batting an eye. His gleaming, white pupils flicked over the words on the card locating a name, her name.

When he looked up she was barely a metre in front of him extending her good arm for a handshake, "nice to meet you, I'll be working with you and Kim Joongoo for the foreseeable future."

He never saw her coming.

#park jonggun #lookism webtoon #lookism #fanfic #lookism fic #lookism manhwa #gun park #goo kim #fem reader #technically oc but can be read as reader #oc x character #oc x canon #park jonggun x reader #jonggun x reader #jonggun park x reader #gun x reader #mentions of goo #kim joongoo

142 notes · View notes

envies-writing-corner · 1 year

Note

Hello! If it’s okay with you, may I request doppio dropscythe x reader dating headcanons?

Dating HC

Includes: Doppio Dropscythe, Hex Haywire, Ver Vermillion

Genre: Fluffy fluff

TW: hopefully none

Word Count: 618

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

Doppio Dropscythe

To be completely honest, he probably followed you around for MONTHS. He just couldn't get enough of your sweet personality and care. You were so kind to others, so gracious as you walked. You probably helped him realize he should turn his ways around and stop being a delinquent.

He adores you, with every ounce of his being. He would do anything he could to make you smile, laugh, blush. He like to come off as mischievous and devious but when you come around, he's following you like a lost puppy.

Would want to spend every second with you, sometimes getting in trouble with Ver because him clinging to you is 'distracting him from his council duties' or smthn.

Doppio may enforce rules and punishment, but he'll gladly break all those rules for a minute of love and cuddles with you in the halls or an unbusy corner of the school.

Hex Haywire

Oh this sweet, sweet, sweet boy. He's in desperate need of a hug every time you get to spend time together. It's a hard job, being able to take on another's pain, to give them joy once more. At first he thought that's all you wanted too. A bit of joy in a dark and cruel world.

You didn't want that though. You just wanted a life in his gaze, you wanted to be his bit of joy, so any chance he gets to relax, he will always find his way to your arms. You're his safe space, now and forever.

Definitely enjoys teasing you after a bit apart, coming up behind you in the halls and wrapping his arms around your waist, dropping to a low-tone of voice, husky whispers in your ear of greetings and terms of endearment.

When things get to be too much, he loves laying with you, whether it's in the council room or outside in the grass cloud watching. Your presence alone is enough to chase any unwanted thoughts out of his mind. He knows he'll be ok as long as you're here.

Definitely calls you 'love', 'dear', and 'darling~'

Expect a lot of dates and gifts, he wishes to spoil you, you were a breath of fresh air in a smoke filled room, and don't tell Ver but he definitely used the council credit card to pay for everything. You're worth the trouble, in his eyes at least.

Ver Vermillion

Everything is better when Ver is around, he's just a great person to be near, sure he can cleanse anyone's soul and give hope for the future, but you saw past that ability, you saw past the president persona, and you saw the boy behind all of that.

He'd be hesitant around you at first, cautious as to not end up hurting himself beyond his limits, but when he realizes you genuinely don't want anything but to love him, he's putty in your hands.

Being the president of the student council is a lot of work, having to deal with financial choices, repairs, enforce school rules, keep a hold of the rest of your council, be lenient but still harsh. It's a lot for one person, so he's always happy to see you whenever it's been a hard day. Just hearing your laugh could bring him out of the darkest and sourest moods.

Because of all his work, he's sad you two can't spend more time together, so be prepared to be constantly dragged to the council room by Doppio, saying he's 'following orders' only to end up on one of the couches with Ver, cuddling the stress away of yet another over-budget expense one of his fellow members had charged to the council credit card.

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

Author's note: Ahhhhh, I apologize if anyone seems OOC, I haven't watched many Doppio streams so I'm unsure how to write him properly. I hope you still liked this, even if it wasn't that good. Thank you all for your continuous support!

#xsoleil x reader #ver vermillion #ver vermillion x reader #hex haywire #hex haywire x reader #xsoleil #doppio dropscythe #doppio dropscythe x reader

373 notes · View notes

lephamquynhnhu · 5 months

Text

Panacea

Chapter 1: Pretty ripples on water

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~1,1k

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

The soothing melody of raindrops falling through the thick foliage barely touches his hair as Dan Feng strides on the worn path underneath. The Ten-Lords commissioned him to investigate the supernatural phenomena in the Faery Forest, which inhabitants rumor it recently haunted. The golden sun conceals itself behind the aloft gloomy clouds draping an eerily grey ambiance, and the voidness of birds singing wafts a scary serenity.

There are plenty of stories and myths about the woods, but the infamous one was a wise Nymph who guarded the forest as the Alliance established. When the first Denizen of Abundance occurred, to preserve her homeland from the crossfire of the war, the Nymph divided herself into divine fragments asunder to enhance the endurance of the woods. Thanks to the Nymph's might, her forest remained intact after devastating battles. However, she could not regain her strength to unite divinity, so the wise Nymph gradually faded, her name eventually fell into oblivion, and the story is no more than a mythopedia. It is said that her Authorities dissolved in the forest to protect her beloved homeland forever. The native Loufu named the woods based on that story, and whatever the stories are, this forest has sustained through many sanguinary warfare and become one of the most venerated destinations.

The report says that citizens who live near the haunted place or some passing by currently hear a bizarre resonance in the Faery forest at dawn, and they even claim to witness jack-o'-lantern at twilight. To verify the statement, Dan Feng's presence from the blush of morn strolling around an hour and finds nothing akin to the rumor. The drizzle is getting heavier as raindrops start seeping through his attire. Looking at the overcast sky through a dense web of leaves, he forecasts it will soon be a downpour. When Dan Feng considers postponing the commission, a weak sound threads through ancient arbors, which beat like a song - a nursery rhyme. Simultaneously, a chilly breeze permeates with moisture rises as though pushing him toward the siren as soon as the resonance appears. The glint of surprise quickly quenches when Imbibitor Lunae decides to follow the sound's origin.

He keeps running with all senses on guards under the last remnants of light dimly lit his way until a field of flowers welcomes him when exiting the forest. Dan Feng never thought there would be people living beyond the woods and isolating themselves from society. Reflecting in those cyan irises is a girl standing amidst the hydrangea fully bloomed on its field, who raises her voice while one hand holds a cart of multi-colored flowers and the other curls around the axis of her umbrella. Suddenly, when detecting a foreigner's existence, you stop singing and tilt your head toward his position. To your right, an emotionless man with a prominent horned crown atop his forehead whom you know precisely. The drizzle turns into rain as water continuously trails down the High Elder's porcelain face.

"Your Majesty, it may become torrential rain. Would you like to shelter at my house?" - You kindheartedly open an invitation while sauntering to Dan Feng and sharing your umbrella. A weary inquiry escapes Imbibitor Lunae's lips as he notices you use the title in greeting, but Dan Feng only receives a mysterious smile.

Outside the limited space, raindrops seem progressively heavier when they drum on the umbrella panel, and the surroundings are covered in a misty veil. The calm demeanor in the Long Scion's eyes never wavers, and you can tell he sights right through your soul, searching for something. A familiar feeling creeps up his mind, yet somehow different. "Yes, please lead the way." - Dan Feng eventually accepts your invitation after a brief moment as he gently takes the shalt from your gloved hand.

After avoiding the rain at your house, all suspicions were clear, and he assumed to close the case because the enigmatic echo was your singing voice, and the fen-fire originated from your paper lantern. When Dan Feng mentioned those phenomena, an astonishment tinged your face yet soon morphed into grinning. "My sincere apologies, Your Majesty. But, you may conclude your commission now." - You breathlessly said while trying to regain your formal posture.

The crispy sound of embers crackling mingles with thunderbolts from afar, which craft an inexplicably refreshing atmosphere. Compared to the natural noise outside, Dan Feng thinks your voice seems to dissolve into the ether. Although those emerald orbs never leave the white wall made from endless heavy raindrops, his attention still focuses on your conversation. Besides, the High Elder learned you are a florist who has settled here about three years. "I succeeded in my grandmother's business after looking after her ailment.'' - Your tone is monotonous, but a distant feeling boiling up while leisurely replenishing his teacup. Dan Feng keeps practicing a good listener's role and slowly sips the tea. The smoky steam flowing at the brim that carries a floral scent of Wildrose thread through his nostrils reduces mind stress.

Unknowingly, your one-way dialogue at the wooden terrace goes smoothly under the chilly downpour of early summer. When the homemade delicacy marries with the beverage is out of stock, and the tea is drying up in the pot, the shower stops falling, which renders a landscape as spectacular as pictured. At first, Dan Feng thought your lifestyle was a little too austere as if the only living being at a monastery and sealing away the community. Nevertheless, he comprehends the reason as the sunlight shines brightly again. The previous rain aqua absolutes all reveal a Shangri-La with a boundless field of vivid flowers. Boasting butterflies start levitating around the garden while a rainbow faintly appears on the horizon.

Imbibitor Lunae intended to carry his commission, but now, this Elysium might cast a spell to change his mind, to return once again. Furthermore, the treat you offered also brings up his appetite, so Dan Feng wants to taste them once again.

"Do you wish to grow any plant's breed?" - The High Elder says as he stands up from the wooden chair, fetching his cloak with eyes still fixed on the flowery domain unfold. You tilt your head quizzically because it is uncommon for him to open the conversation, unable to respond immediately. "I want to compensate you for your kindhearted hospitality." - He quickly clarifies your inquiry as if possessing mind-reading arts. This time, Dan Feng initiates eye contact with you; a gentle wind blows through, causing dispersed petals to swirl around. His lashes lightly move in approval when he hears your answer. Empirical Peony sure will gorgeously bloom under your care. Before leaving, Dan Feng abruptly halts his foot as he realizes he has forgotten something essential.

"What is your name?" You look at his tall back while snickering behind your palm to suppress the giggles. A cozy orange hue from the blazing flame that nestles in your fireplace shimmers on your face as you answer "Yi Ting. Yi in ripples on water, Ting in pretty."

#hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan feng x you #dan feng x reader #Dan Feng fanfic #hsr dan feng

63 notes · View notes

jewishjanetandco · 4 months

Text

the lumiat grabbing the tce, pointing it at missy, and ordering her to "say something nice"

fifteen gently cradling his younger self, kissing his forehead, and telling him to take time to rest and recover

#beyond the clouds ( ooc )#adventures in time & space ( doctor who )#the lumiat;;#murderous mary poppins ( missy )#the p r e d a t o r ( the doctor )#something about how the master is doomed to self-destruction #while the doctor is given grace

3 notes · View notes

an-idyllic-novelist · 1 year

Text

jack the ripper platonic headcanons with muichiro!fem!reader

warnings: spoilers from the manga, ooc

This is a collaboration project with @onecantsimply, I really had a lot of fun doing this piece with them. Seriously, check their content guys, it is amazing.

With that being said, enjoy these headcanons! :)

[First Name] [Last Name] was the second Valkyrie in recorded history to have been a human prior to their ascension into Valhalla. ‘Mist Hashira’ was the only thing they could remember who they were, and quite frankly she did not care either way. All she wanted to do was have an easy life and spend her days watching the clouds without being nagged by her sisters, especially Brunhilde.

Then there was the incident at the council hall, which led to Zeus allowing Ragnarok to decide the fate of humanity: preservation or extinction. Brunhilde was ready to rebel against the gods and prevent Midgard’s destruction alongside the other Valkyries through the method of the Volundr, the wielding of a Divine Treasure.

[First Name] did not have a choice in the matter, even when she was assigned to work together with the most despicable serial killer in mankind’s history: Jack The Ripper.

To create a weapon that will kill the gods, the weapon and its user must synchronize their emotions. That might sound easy, but it’s a lot harder to pull off when someone in the party, well, lacks any emotion whatsoever. When Jack had formally met his partner for the first time, he was a bit stunned to see the Valkyrie’s ‘canvas’.

It did not exist. More specifically, it was colorless. Cloudy even. [First Name] was practically invisible to his right eye. When she looked at him, her own gaze half-lidded and dull. A blank face to match a blank canvas that should at least be brimming with fear at the mere mention of his name. Alas, his and Brunhilde’s efforts were in vain as the younger Valkyrie remained unfazed. Brunhilde shook her head in exasperation and left in a huff, more than likely to pair up the other champions with their respective Valkyries.

Over the next few days, he quickly realized that [First Name] did not care what he did so long it never included her. And even if he did try to do something, she could stop him without trying. That was probably why he wasn’t too upset with the young lady’s rudeness towards him. She fascinated him.

It became his goal to make her feel fear. The Mist Hashira, in contrast, wanted to make sure he did not die in Ragnarok. So, she put him through a ‘special training’ regimen to help increase his stamina, strength, and agility in no particular order.

But Dear God, she showed no mercy towards a gentleman. Not even a speck of compassion when he was worn out in body and soul, barking at him for being an incredibly weak fighter in the roster as her sword clashed against his knives. She might have the appearance of a young lady, her strength was nothing to scoff at.

Although there were times when he wanted to simply quit and rest his weary body, Jack knew he could not do that. He was the one who took up on Lady Brunhilde’s offer to fight in this competition. And as much it pained him to say it out loud…he has noticed the changes in his body. He had been a nimble fellow when he was alive, yet his speed between then and now was….well, the difference is unbelievable. Not to mention he was not as tired as he used to be when doing anything particularly strenuous or physical.

He’s changed quite a bit this past month….including his Volundr.

It had been a slow process of [First Name] warming up to him, but now he can with certainty that she has actually begun to enjoy nibbling on the sweets and drinking Darjeeling tea when the clock struck three in the afternoon. However, there is still the issue of performing the Divine Treasure ritual.

He had many emotions, and she still had exhibited nothing else beyond annoyance when he corrected her table manners and the slight wonder of gazing up at the clouds. Truly, what was so interesting about spending hours laying around the tall grass of a floating island and doing nothing?

When Jack tried it out himself, sitting on a large boulder that was conveniently settled right behind his Volundr, he actually managed to space out a bit. Him, a productive gentleman and an artist! In retrospect, it could even be called a miracle that he has been able to form a bond with [First Name].

It was not an instant connection like some of his fellow fighters, but he knows she has grown more comfortable around him, even while knowing what he had done as an assassin who wanted to see the color of fear in his victims. Pardon him, his targets.

A slow, platonic relationship? He’s fine with that, even though you are still a little rude. A gentleman must be patient, after all~.

He eventually dragged her away from the island and back to the Valkyrie compound, only getting a blank stare instead of a glare this time….but he’s not too sure if that’s actually an improvement or not.

With the clock ticking down to the first round of Ragnarok, he and his Volundr spend the rest of their time trying to link their souls together. They eventually were able to agree on a single emotion that did the trick: betrayal.

Jack felt betrayed that his mother had never loved him, instead seeing his very existence as a chain to connect herself to a playwright that abandoned her to marry nobility. [First Name] felt betrayed that the pantheons wanted to destroy humanity, even after you had supposedly died to save them from demons.

That’s all Brunhilde would tell her just to make sure the ritual would be completed. Jerk.

When the ritual activated, a bright green light surrounded the two of them before a kaleidoscope of fragmented memories entered Jack’s mind. By meticulously piecing them together like a puzzle, a tragic story unfurled before his eyes. [First Name] had lived a hard but happy life in the mountains with her twin brother Yuichiro after their parents died, but it all came crashing down when a demon destroyed everything.

It was [First Name]’s rage towards demons that kept her moving forward, even when she had been pushed into a corner by Muzan’s commanding officer, the Upper Moon One ranked demon known as Kokushibo. Even when her memories had been buried again in the dark corners of her mind, not because of the shock, but because of Brunhilde’s machinations.

She wanted another Valkyrie amongst the ranks, a soul who was powerful and yet malleable enough to twist to her own design. After all, what use is the soul of a Hashira if they’ve lost their fighting spirit and desired peace?

Ah…poor thing. To go past her limitations and become a Hashira within two months, to obtain the Demon Slayer Mark and single handedly kill an Upper Moon demon…all of that power, to die at such a young age. And just when she had begun to express herself more, exhibiting a compassionate, teasing persona towards her comrades. The one she’d liked the most was a young man named Tanjiro.

Jack assumed that he, at least, had survived against Muzan in the final confrontation.

Including learning the truth behind her memory loss, he was also able to discover what was his Volundr's ability in combat: anything that he can touch with his hands would become a Divine Weapon. Even a small pebble can be lethal to a god.

The given name of his Volundr is Muichiro. In the Japanese writing system known as kanji, the name meant ‘nothingness’ but ‘Mu’ could also be written as ‘infinity’.

Upon the transformation being released, Jack’s opinion of [First Name] changed. Someone he’d believed to be a disrespectful, slightly spoiled brat, to a young lady who struggled on how to cope with her memory loss.

Right up until the fourth bout of Ragnarok, he made sure his Volundr was comfortable and fully relaxed with snacks or blankets for her to curl up under on the couch.

[First Name] was quite confused with his behavior, but did nothing to stop it. She was, however, taken off guard when her partner confessed that he saw her as a surrogate child. If something went wrong in the match, he wanted her to commence the separation ritual as quickly as possible and get to safety.

Thankfully the confusion did not cause any mishaps as she transformed into a pair of tailor-made leather gloves, synchronizing their hearts together as a single unit to fight against Heracles, the beloved Grecian God of Fortitude.

(Jack did have to hold back a snicker when his Valkyrie asked if she could punch Heracles just once, really hard, because the spiel he gave about asking Zeus to spare humanity if his opponent ‘laid down his arms’ is really fucking stupid. If Heracles loved mortals so much, why not just fight with them as a representative of humanity?)

As to be expected, the battle had been tough. Timing was everything in order for Jack’s plan to be executed perfectly. He defeated a god, and gave humanity an advantage they desperately needed in Ragnarok.

So why was [First Name] happy that her partner had changed over the course of round four? She’d seen through his memories, the good and the bad, and she didn’t mind it. Now, all of a sudden, his heart seemed to be purer than before….more than willingly to change some parts of himself? It did not make sense.

Neither was the hate that Jack received from the angered guests in the god’s stands. Heracles knew what he was getting himself into, so why all of the fuss? What part of a combat tournament that can end in total annihilation for either party did these idiots not understand?

Quickly releasing the Divine Weapon ritual, the sword at her waist quickly unsheathed, creating a veil of mist that disintegrated the shower of stones flung at Jack into a pile of dust on the ground. But one attack did not faze the screaming spectators, who now resorted to using glass and garbage.

Annoyed, [First Name] maneuvered her grip on the hilt and created a thick veil of fog around the arena. Originally it was supposed to provide some cover until the two of them made it pass the drawbridge to humanity’s side of the coliseum, but hearing the crowd become confused and panicked amidst the chaos was worth it. Served the idiots right.

Jack also seemed happy that she had helped him…but why? More importantly, what was with the sudden change of heart? She bluntly asked him this question, though the only answer she received was it had been Heracles’ unconditional love that saved him.

A stupid answer, but whatever.

Upon arriving at the medical wing, [First Name] kicked the door open just when a group of winged nurses were coming back from their break. Quickly realizing they had a patient, they immediately guided the Valkyrie to an empty unit where they instructed her to lay Jack down and let them start working on him.

[First Name] nodded, following the command before plopping down in a chair and staring off into space. Ah…she was tired. Is it time for a nap now?

Bonus Content:

After hearing that Jack will need to spend a night under observation before being released, [First Name] left the medical wing to go get cleaned up.

Once she had taken a hot shower and changed into some spare clothes, the Mist Hashira decided to reward her human partner with a box of sweets from a high-end patisserie shop. Purchasing two boxes and some other items, she ventured down the corridor leading towards the medical wing when she was attacked from behind by a god. She hasn’t had an opportunity to draw her sword when her entire body was encased in a floating sphere of water.

The thought that she may die again in Valhalla triggered a flood of emotions to encompass her body, followed by…memories? Ah….that’s right….this is the second time she’s lost them.

How annoying.

Feeling her face burn, it took only a moment to realize that her Demon Slayer mark appeared again. Half a second to decapitate the god who had the guts to try and kill the Mist Hashira with the same trick Gyokko pulled when she said his art was shit.

Wiping the god’s blood off with the hem of her shorts, she sheathed her sword and continued her trek towards the medical wing, teal sneakers squeaking across the marbled corridor.

Blinking, she stopped walking and looked down at herself. Ah…she was covered in blood and water. Should she go back to her room and change again? No, it should be fine. Water will dry out, and these clothes - a black, long-sleeved hoodie, shorts with teal suspenders, and kneepads - were all that she had right now besides that stifling Valkyrie uniform.

Besides, Jack was an assassin. Seeing her like this shouldn’t be too much of a shock to him when she tells him that she recovered her memories, right?

Spoiler alert: The Ripper almost fell out of his bed when she greeted him, his face white with fear and shock even when she handed him a big slice of apple pie on a paper plate. He wouldn’t have reacted in such a manner if he didn’t just wake up moments ago.

Taglist:

@yellow-snark

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@recreationalfanfics

@radioactivesweet

@staticradiotv

@thatstrangesheep

@nixes-noxes

@thequietkid-moonie

@myrisan-melodies

@kiannas-stuff

@praisethesuuun

@zodiacs-web

#muichiro!reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x you #ror x reader #snv jack the ripper #jack the ripper record of ragnarok #ror headcanons #jack the ripper x reader #platonic headcanons #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv x reader #an idyllic novelist

378 notes · View notes

mccnstruck · 6 months

Text

the dreams you let me follow.

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, reverse comfort but also comfort both of you guys are a mess, not proofread, 2k+ words, long fic, gender neutral, no pronouns besides "you" for reader, self-indulgent, op is possessed by kazuha brainrot, could be seen in the same storyline as “never alone”, mentions of mental breakdowns, implied emotional abuse?, very ooc i don't know man

a/n: i know i posted like a few days ago but as today comes to an end i literally couldn't let myself go to bed without making something for kazuha. happy birthday kazuhaalkdlwklkaw AHHDHDHHAH ok. but anyways the ending was HORRENDOUS but if i carried it on any longer i would never finish this. reblogs and tags are much appreciated. oh and also you and kazuha both have abandonment issues LMFAOOAOOAOA

You looked beyond the windows of your Mondstadt home and onto the rain that poured on Monstadt City. The sun hid behind grey clouds, whose sobs embodied the roaring thunder. Its tears fell onto Mondstadt soil, and you saw people quickly run back home to the warmth of their homes. You turned on the lamp beside your bed and took a journal out of the bookshelf next to your bed. Your fingers felt the embroidery on the book’s spine and grazed over the writing on the cover. The red ink on the front read: “To Kadehara Kazuha.”

You opened the journal and grazed over your handwriting. Pages upon pages of messy handwriting took you back to the days when you first settled in Mondstadt.

You remembered the night before you set your travels for Mondstadt. You entered your cabin (for quite possibly, the last time in a long time) and saw him writing in his journal. Crimson eyes looked up at you and Kazuha smiled. The moonlight barely shone inside the cabin, but even you could make out the tears that slid down his face.

Your heart shattered when you heard his voice. “Hello, dear.”

“Kazuha, what happened?”

You rushed to his side and sat on the bed. You brought your hand to cradle his face and gently slid your thumb over the tear stains on his face.

You whispered, sadness lacing over your voice. “Kazuha…is it because of me?”

He sat in silence, and both you and him stared at the journal laid on his lap.

“As a wanderer, I should know your situation best. It is not your fault, by all means. You should be allowed to embrace the love of Mondstadt City.”

“Kazuha-”

“Yet. Yet I keep trying. I keep…on trying…to cling on…”

His tears fell onto the blanket and he hid his face from you; trying to wipe his tears away.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your world crumble around you.

Kazuha’s demeanor crumbled, and you pulled him into your arms.

Seeing Kazuha’s usual smile taken from you….because of you. He said it wasn’t your fault, yet you felt the loneliness of Kazuha’s future travels. You felt the future lonely nights when you would have to stare out the window: wondering where your lover would share his love.

But, you had to do this.

You had to escape. And Kazuha knew. Both of you knew.

Instead of comforting him with false lies you both knew to be meaningless; you instead made him promise one thing.

“Kazuha. Keep on writing. Keep on writing and exploring the world.”

He looked at you and paused at your words. “Why wouldn’t I do that in the first place?”

“Just…Just keep on writing. Never lose that spark. Do what you love, okay?”

You held out your hand to him and your pinky stuck out. The child in you, clinging to whatever promises you could believe in, desperately hoped for Kazuha to respond in kind.

You softly smiled when he intertwined his pinky in yours. He promised, no matter what happened, to always follow the spark in his heart.

At the thought of Kazuha, the journal in front of you became blurry. You looked up to find your home to be blurry as well. You were crying. Your tears fell as the gray clouds cried louder.

Archons, you wished to see him again. The unnerving fear of forgetting his face ate you alive every day, and you yearned to hear his voice once more. You were so busy laughing and working throughout the day that on nights when you only accompanied the thoughts in your head, you realized how long it had been.

Would you even be able to show your face in front of him? You just…left Kazuha and went on your travels.

No…you both knew. You had to leave Sumeru. You needed to build a home somewhere.

Sumeru…

But why….why did you feel something for Sumeru? Your chest felt heavy, full of sin. Your happiness felt sinful, almost as if you needed to go back and plead for the Akademiya to take you back.

Let them rip your designs to shreds, have them accept your crumpled academic papers with messy writing and dried tears.

Mama, Papa.

They wouldn’t even let you acknowledge them.

Did you mess up? Oh, you messed up. Did you? You could’ve lived with stability, with respect. You could’ve sacrificed your dreams, because everyone knows you’re just going to wake up anyways. Yet you lived your life sleepwalking, clinging to your dreams and ignoring reality.

Was this what your parents wanted you to see? No. They could’ve supported your ambitions. They could’ve pushed society’s whispers and helped you build your wishes.

Yet. They didn’t.

You couldn’t even remember their faces.

Mama. Papa.

You couldn’t remember their faces. Yet their voices haunted your very being every day.

Mama. Papa.

Mama. Papa. Mama. Papa. Mama, Papa, I’m so sorry Im so sorry im so soryryr mim sodttyt iams oso soryryruh please pforgive me PLEASE

Your thoughts were corrupted of pure hatred and that night, the beloved engineer of Mondstadt was left to rot in the hell of loneliness and insecurity.

No one was to go through the rain to find you crying, so you could’ve screamed at the walls in your home and still would’ve gotten no response. Yet, knowing how alone you were, you quietly trembled and wrapped yourself in your arms. Your journal laid at your side, and the hopes of seeing your beloved turned into desperate cries to not be alone. The dried tears on the page said it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying. Your chest felt the same heaviness, but your tears had stopped. You didn’t have the energy to wipe them off. You shifted on your bed to turn the lamp off when…

A thud shook your house, followed by a knock.

You would’ve excused the thud to be the thunder, but a knock? Who was to be at your home in the rain?

“Give me a minute!”

You felt extremely bad to delay some warmth to the person outside, but your face was completely unrepresentable. You rushed to the bathroom to wipe your tears off and disregarded the other visible signs you were crying. You pulled out a scarf to offer and rushed to the door.

When you opened the door, your eyes widened at the white hair with a crimson streak running through it. Crimson eyes looked back at you with glee, and the figure grinned at your shock.

“Hello, dear.”

“You’re lying. You’re lying. No, I’m dreaming. This is a joke-”

In your state of denial, he pulled your hand towards him and wrapped his arms around you. He hid you in his embrace, and not even the pouring rain could separate you from him.

Kazuha whispered, “It’s been so long…so…” He paused, his shoulders shaking, before he continued. “I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”

You gritted your teeth to hold back your sobs, yet the tears started again when you enclosed Kazuha in your arms.

Your voice shook, and your chest gasped for air. “Archons, I missed you. So much.”

Even with your warmth, Kazuha shivered from the cold winds. You led him inside and let him warm up by the fireplace while you prepared something to eat.

Kazuha noticed the tissues stacked up on your bed and your attempts to hide your journal in the bookshelf.

“Dear?”

Your head turned rapidly toward him and you put on a fake grin. Your tears were wiped off, yet your eyes looked pained; as if they were about to close with agony. “What’s up?”

“I…Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I’m ok. Why? Need anything?”

Kazuha worriedly smiled. “You seemed tense. And when you opened the door, your face looked pained. Desperate.”

You paused at Kazuha’s words and almost whirled back into your thoughts. You never understood how Kazuha could see past you, but it was an admirable skill, yet it made you very vulnerable.

You regain your voice and shakily respond. “Hm. I’m just.. stressed. Don’t worry, it's a usual thing. Don’t worry yourself about it. Can’t have your pretty little head anxious over me.”

Your flirtatious remarks would’ve gotten to him, had your voice been more steady and confident.

Kazuha, to your relief, let you drop the topic. Yet you knew he wasn’t going to let you go without talking.

He pulled out a journal from his bag and laid it on his lap. The journal was colored red with designs that originated from Inazuma. He opened it to the very first page and began to speak.

“That night before you left the Crux, I wrote in a new journal I had gotten. Remember the shop we visited in Inazuma?”

You hummed, acknowledging the memory.

“I awoke in the middle of the night and wrote my first entry. It was dedicated to you. Here,” he held the open journal and gestured for you to read it, “you can read it.”

You take the journal from Kazuha’s grasp and sit down in the seat next to his.

“To My Engineer,

You’re so far away in the land of dreams, that I’m afraid I cannot reach you even in the night. I had a nightmare, but I don’t want to bother you right now. You have a long day ahead of you.

My Engineer. I hope I get to see you again so that one day I can show you this journal and you can ask me why I called you ‘my engineer’ instead of ‘my dear’.”

You cheekily ask, “Why did you call me your engineer?”

Kazuha chuckled and gestured for you to read further.

“Ever since I met you, I was so enthralled with your dreams that I forgot that those dreams aren’t stuck in place. Yet I clung on.

To the future engineer who sees this. I am so proud of you. Leaving home, knowing it doesn’t call for you, hurts. I am so proud of you.

I miss you. Yet you lay next to me as of right now, sound asleep. I’ll miss you, so very much, my engineer. Yet I know your dreams will inspire little kids and make Mondstadt proud. That’s what I admire about you. Your dreams don’t stop with you, but grow to communities, and will grow around Teyvat, in time. No matter what anyone says, you deserve to follow your dreams. You shouldn’t have to be stuck in one place. You’ve taught me the same.

This journal is dedicated to you. When you told me to follow my spark, a part of me hoped my spark would lead me to you.

My engineer, I hope you build your dreams and smile at your designs. I hope I can see you again.

Your lover,

K. Kazuha”

Your voice lost all of its stability when you whispered Kazuha’s name. You looked up with teary eyes to see Kazuha staring at the journal with a bittersweet smile.

“Ever since you told me to never stop writing, and to follow my spark, I thought about Inazuma after so long. For so long, I refused to remember the decline of the clan. But, that night, I thought about the promise between my father and I. I…”

He fell silent, yet his face remained the same.

“You’ve shown me, indirectly, how dreams heal the soul. Dreams are such temporary illusions we indulge ourselves in, but it is also a future promise to ourselves. Humanity cannot stay forever in one place. If a wounded animal wants to escape from a trap, it has to sacrifice the hind leg that was caught. Staying in the trap has far more deadly consequences.”

You held Kazuha’s hand and slid your thumb over his skin. Kazuha finally looked at you and closed his eyes; letting the touch of your skin ground him to Teyvat.

After a little while of shared silence, you let go of his hand and wiped your tears. You stood up and moved to your bookshelf, taking out the journal with the embroidery on the spine.

Kazuha raised his eyebrows with curiosity as you sat back down. You laid out the journal in front of him and gave him a teary smile.

“I wrote a journal dedicated to you too. I don’t think my dreams ever not consisted of you in them.”

He opened the journal to find pages upon pages of messy handwriting in front of him; all consisting of different dates, all to him.

“I…Even though I couldn’t see you, I still felt your presence with me. So I kept a journal of my own.”

Kazuha flipped through the journal and saw his name on every page he flipped through. Messy handwriting spelled out his name through times of sadness and times of joy. Your handwriting spelled out his name, Kazuha. Kazuha. Kazuha. Kazuha.

“Kazuha?”

He looked up at you and realized he was crying.

“I…I don’t know why. I tried to ease my mind by thinking that you would be so caught up in your work. I just…you dedicated this to me…”

You stood from your seat and pulled Kazuha into your arms. He rested his head on your shoulder, and both of your journals laid next to each other.

All of your problems, the guilt, the shame, it would never go truly away. But knowing Kazuha was here, whether with you or traveling the world, kept you chasing your dreams. You only hoped that he was here to see those dreams become reality.

The thunderstorm of the night continuously roared throughout the lands, yet for a moment it calmed itself at the two lovers’ embrace, who couldn’t be bothered by the world’s burdens placed upon them. The thunderstorm paused its cries to listen to the quiet declarations between two lovers, before starting back up again and letting its tears merge with the Mondstadt soil.

mccnstruck. do not plagiarize or repost.

taglist: @risekuni, @omori-1, @tearsasmascara, @yinyinggie

#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #[ the lost library ]

54 notes · View notes

lokidokieokie · 1 year

Text

Love's Debut

Summary: In an actor AU, Loki Laufeyson is a world-famous actor; and you, his humble assistant. What happens when years of unreleased feelings rise to the surface...during the middle of his movie’s première.

Pairing: Actor!Loki x Assistant!Reader

Warning(s): Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty, large crowds, declarations of love, Loki is definitely OOC (but it’s my AU, so deal with it 😊)

Note: italics is a flashback

Loki Laufeyson was at the height of his career as a world-famous actor. He had starred in countless blockbuster hits, had legions of adoring fans, and was constantly on the go. It was no surprise that he was in need of an assistant to keep his life organised.

That's where you came in.

"Excuse me, Mr. Laufeyson?"

He looked up from his desk to see a woman standing in his doorway. It was safe to say that he was entirely gobsmacked. There she stood in a lilac blouse and a black skirt, her h/c hair sitting in a tight bun on the side of her head.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said, her voice slightly hesitant. "I'm your new assistant."

He smiled warmly at her, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as her honeyed voice clouded his senses. He had been without an assistant for weeks, and the workload was continuing to pile up.

"Of course, please, come in." He said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk.

She sat down, pulling a notebook out of her bag.

"My name is Y/n, as I'm sure you read in the email," she said, introducing herself. "I'm so excited to be working with you."

"I'm glad to have you on board," he said, smiling at her. "Is there anything that you require from me at the moment?"

Y/n shook her head, her eyes bright.

"No, I'm all set. I've read up on your current projects and I've got everything organised."

He raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"That's quite efficient," he said, feeling a weight being lifted from his shoulders. "I'm glad to hear it."

For the next few weeks, Y/n proved herself to be an invaluable asset. She was organised, efficient, and always one step ahead of him. But as he spent more time with her, he couldn't help but feel that there was something more there--a connection that went beyond just professional admiration.

Ever since the beginning you had kept him grounded. When we was stressed out over a tight schedule for a particular film, you were there waiting for him with a cup of tea and soothing words. When he was freaking out over forgetting to buy his brother's birthday gift, you surprised with him with a present of his own--the item that he was looking to get Thor.

And as the weeks turned to months which turned into years, that feeling of admiration never left him. They continued to grow as every day flew by.

It wasn't until the night of his latest movie premiere, as he stood on the red carpet with you by his side, that he realised what it was.

So Loki turned to face you, his eyes filled with emotion, "I can't do this," he whispered. "I can't pretend anymore."

He saw you look at him with confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I mean this," he said, taking your hand in his. "I mean us. I've been in love with you for years now, and I can't keep it inside any longer."

As quickly as Loki declared those words, he pulled away from you. The realisation of what he had just done hitting him like a 3am wake-up call.

"I'm sorry," his voice barely a whisper. "I- I shouldn't have said anything. I just... I had to tell you."

And with that, he turned and walked away; leaving the woman he loved in the middle of the red carpet, with cameras flashing all around her.

~~~

He didn't return to the theatre, nor did he make an appearance at the after party. He was disappointed with himself; declaring his feeling for you in the middle of a public event was not the right way to approach this.

So there he was, sitting on his couch, a glass of whiskey in hand; trying to drink his sorrows away.

And then someone knocked at the door.

Reluctantly, he made his way to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by you.

You had a frown on your face, and your eyes were red-rimmed. This is it, he thought, she's here to give in her two weeks notice.

"I'm sorry," he said, refusing to look at her any longer. "I shouldn't have said anything."

He heard her heels clink on the wooden floorboards as she made her way closer.

"You don't have to apologise for anything, Loki."

His red eyes shifted to look at her, "I've ruined everything. I've made everything awkward, you're here to give me your two weeks notice. What don't I have to apologise for?"

As he turned away, he felt her grab his hand, "There's nothing to apologise for, because I feel the same way."

His head shot up, his eyes wide.

"You what?"

"I've been in love with you for years," you said, a smile gracing your features. "I just never brought it up because there was no way that you felt the same way about me."

He cupped the side of her face, "But I do, Y/n. I love you more than anything this life has to offer."

And with that, all the years of unreleased feelings rose to the surface in the form of a passionate kiss.

It was a moment that the two of you would never forget; a moment that would changes your lives forever.

A/N this has been in my drafts since October, and I finally had the motivation to finish it :)

Taglist! Everything: @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee Loki: @dryyoursaltyoceantears

152 notes · View notes

asmobeuses · 7 months

Note

Asmo give me any atsushi hcs fluff, angst destory my atsushi lover self DO IT!!!!!

Me ^

Atsushi HCS!

Warnings: Insecurity, mentions of bickering and arguments, hurt/comfort (u said angsty. Ask and u shall receive.)

I apologize in advance if these r ooc, I don't know much about his character UEUEUEUEUE💔

Tjis fucking loserboy!! He's completely whipped for u no doubt about it

He's constantly doting on you! Making sure you're okay, tending to any of your needs,

,,,making sure you're okaaaayyyy

(Ran out of things he does it's 3am spare me)

Treats you as if you're married lol

"Astushi we don't even live together"

Him cuz u said that

"How could you" :(

Apologize rn.

> Angst below the cut

Angsty (this is my shit right here)

He was very insecure about your relationship when it first began

He would always make sure to go above and beyond because he thought you'd leave him if he "wasn't enough" :((

Hug kiss and tell him he's important to you right NEOW!!!

No but fr his love language besides physical contact r words of affirmation

He constantly needs reassurance.

He may not need as much further on into your relationship, but don't think that means u stop giving it to him 🤨 (pause.)

Obviously like any couple, yall will have occasional disagreements that MIGHT turn into arguments if you're not careful

He loves you but damn does he get heated and passionate when it comes to his views on smth

At the end of each one he feel rlly bad tho, even if he wasn't the one who started it

Literally him after yall argue

Yall always end up making out up after every argument yall have.

You both end up forgetting about it after a night of movies n snacks n cuddles

The next day the Ada r like "you guys are on talking terms again?"

U and atushi in unison: "we weren't?"

Bonus angst

Thinking about atushi's reaction to you wanting a break and what caused it.

You love your boyfriend with every fiber of your being

But that doesn't mean you have the space on your shoulders to carry both his and your baggage.

Obviously you're there for eachother during your lowest, dont get me wrong!

There will be moments where his past is weighing in on him and he wants nothing but your reassurance!!

Butttttt his judgement gets clouded sometimes and he loses his emotional intelligence

Causing him not to notice when you're down in the dumps.

And this varies for whoever reading obv but in this case let's say you're the type of person to bottle up your emotions until one little thing tips the cup over

You end up blowing up at him over something small, really only because of how overwhelming your emotions got.

Now it's your turn to be like

(Hopefully) You end up feeling very guilty about your outburst

"Look, atsushi, I really think we need some time apart."

Whether you say that bevause you feel horrible about blowing up at him or you just need time alone to process your emotions is up to you 🫡

Prepare to be bombarded with questions.

"Are you breaking up with me?" no "Are you getting tired of me?" no "Is it because of something I did?" no

The list goes on

For the love of all things holy please make him shut up tell him you love him and just need time to yourself!!

He will understand and respect your decision, but prepare for him to look like a kicked puppy

Er... kitten?

Some type of cute creature that makes your heart clench when it looks sad.

Sorry idk where I'm going w this anymore

Yall always have a happy ending tho!! No matter what, there's no force that can keep you away from eachother permanently.

Would you like some coffee fluff with your sugar ansgt?

#✎ Asmo writes #bsd x reader #✎ Asmo's asks #do NOT give me the ok to write angst EVER #you will not be a happy camper..#im so sorry lyna #bsd headcanons #bsd angst #bsd fluff #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #atsushi angst #atsushi fluff

40 notes · View notes

a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 9 months

Text

Ghost x Soap

Ghost finds Soap sitting by himself during a party.

Extreme fluff, slight Hurt/Comfort, Somewhat of a First Kiss, Pre-Established Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Soft, Romance, Drabble

WC: 1.3k~

Author's Note: I want to write more for Ghost x Soap, but I admit they're challenging to convey in a way I like. I hope this doesn't feel OOC or like a bunch of nothing; I'm still practicing, but please enjoy! ´･ᴗ･`

Masterlist

Ghost found Soap sitting to himself on the back patio; it wasn't like him to be the one to go missing during a get-together.

He'd been outside for nearly half an hour now, alone, with only the setting sun and the warm summer air to keep him company. His body all but molded to his lawn chair as he lounged, head rested back to count the clouds. Laughter and music from inside played muffled between the glass door and the outside world around him, and it had been enough for him not to feel so alone with its transparent presence.

Soap turns upon hearing the back door slide open, and smiles when his oceanic blue eyes find the dark browns of his lieutenant, raising up in his seat as though he'd just been called upon. Johnny always tended to pep up just a little more anytime Ghost was near. It seemed like everyone noticed this but Johnny, in fact, Ghost included. Ghost especially.

"L.T.!" He greets the man as though it'd not been a few minutes ago that he'd just seen him. That time apart may as well have been days, according to the Sergeant; time often dulls without his superior around. "Something wrong?"

Naturally, Soap hadn't expected his teammate to be out here for no reason whatsoever. Ghost never was a man to move without meaning, a fact which often extended beyond work. However, when Soap sees the sudden awkwardness slip out from Ghost upon hearing his question, it excites the young Scotsman.

"Couldn't find you," Ghost says, his voice doing its best to say as much without the words coming out as frail as they felt on his tongue, having spent the last five minutes looking for the man like a lost child. "Thought you up and left."

Soqap starts to grin like an idiot, and Ghost knows already he's said too much. At that point, he hadn't needed to hear what the man had to say in reply; he was sure it was already one Ghost's heard before.

"Come lookin' for me then, aye L.T.?" the Sergeant teases. "You goin' soft on me now, big guy?"

"Not in the slightest," Ghost says plainly.

Soap merely chuckles, letting his large arms fold over his chest as he's rested his head back against the lawn chair. He'll take his small victories where he can get them; Ghost never made them easy to earn.

"It's OK if you were," he teases, his tongue twisting along with his accent in ways that Simon couldn't help but follow along to eagerly. "You don't have to say it, mate. Besides, I'd say goodbye first, you know that."

Ghost rolls his eyes, though he soon pulls a chair over for himself and sets it right next to Soap shortly after, not having needed much of an excuse to join him. Even Ghost had felt as though these get-togethers grow tiresome without the Sergeant's presence. It makes time move at a snail's pace.

To answer Soap's question from before he'd sat down, the lieutenant then presented to the Sergeant a half-finished cup of Sprite and Tequila he'd mixed in a red solo cup earlier.

"You left your drink."

Soap gives Ghost a rather shy grin before taking his drink, promptly taking a sip once the cup graced his hand again. "I knew you cared, Ghost."

Though he sighs to himself, Ghost's body buzzed with excitement. Had it been Johnny's words that had been the culprit, or that larger-than-life smile he gave him after the fact?

He knows he'll start staring again if he ponders the question for too long, so instead, he makes himself comfortable in his chair, having settled with joining Soap's former gaze above the clouds, which grew more and more seldom with the setting sun.

Ghost has already helped himself to a cigarette two minutes into the silence, a natural course of events that happens whenever the man has more than two minutes to himself outside.

Being in the comfort of close friends in a private setting, he'd forgone his mask, happy to not have to fumble around with it tonight each time he took a sip from his drink or went to eat something. The others still seemed to gawk at him every now and then, as though they'd never seen a man before him, but Simon found it a fair tradeoff all the same. One day their heads will turn in ways like with every other. And for the first time in a long time, he'd been OK with allowing that change to come, however slowly.

No doubt Soap always enjoyed seeing the face of his superior, this man he's grown such an uncanny attachment to, yet it couldn't be more natural. He enjoyed watching the way the muscles in his jaw flexed and moved, his scarred lips pursed over a cigarette, and dark eyes hooded as he hunched over to light the end. Once done, his eyes close, taking in the nicotine, before sinking back into his chair with a dramatic huff, releasing the smoke back into the atmosphere around him.

Soap always knew Ghost to be a rather animated individual, even with his mask. Without it, that fact was indisputable, and the Sergeant couldn't get enough of it.

"You know," Soap only continues. "If you wanted to come out and sit with me, you didn't need to use the drink as an excuse."

"Is that what this is?" Ghost asks sarcastically. "An excuse to come look for you, Johnny?"

"I hope so."

Soap smiles, and Ghost wonders if the man can see every witty comeback he had lined up for him give way to something far softer. He doubts the Sergeant even planned that line; he always did just say whatever came to mind.

Ghost settles back in his chair, letting his eyes following the passing crows. He huffs some more of his cigarette, they always did relax him, even more so with Soap. Always with Soap.

"I wouldn't need an excuse, Johnny."

A rough hand slides itself over Ghost's battered knuckles softly, as fingers gently entangled themselves between his own. The man's gaze looks over almost hesitantly, his heart caught like a lump in his throat when he immediately meets his Sergeant's endearing stare, with a smile that didn't need to speak of how he felt. It spoke for itself.

Ghost let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding; always being left at the edge of his seat with these encounters, even with the smallest of actions. A smile forms as quickly as the breath leaves him, his hand settling in Soap's and taking better hold.

As though to leave him with little time to recover, Soap then gently brings the man's hand up to his lips, feeling his breath feather over him, before being replaced by equally light kisses, one to each knuckle.

Soap wanted to kiss his skin, kiss all the scars, all the grooves and marks the world has littered his body with. If his lips could make them no longer matter, being but the skin he wished to hold closely to himself, then Soap would kiss every inch of his knuckles if allowed to continue.

Once he's felt his lips graze his skin, however, Ghost can't help but yearn for more. He lets his callous palm curve over the scruff of Soap's facial hair, cupping the man's well-defined jawline as though he'd never have the chance to do so again. For Simon, he knew all too well how true a reality that could be, and it's made him cherish these moments as they come.

Ghost lets himself lean over his chair, as awkward as it had been, given his sheer size, before bringing his lips over, until they've found the soft mouth that had been Soap's. He kisses him slowly, tasting the blend of tequila and nicotine on their tongues as they gently lapped at one another. Both men feeling just as they've always daydreamed of on their loneliest of nights.

Soap then jolts suddenly, before chuckling against Ghost's lips, pulling back lightly. "You just spilled my drink, mate."

Ghost looks down, seeing the spilled mess he'd now made in Johnny's lap, a small pool now having formed over his jeans. He merely chuckles to himself, before letting his eyes luridly lift back to him.

"Looks like you'll just have to take them off now," he purrs.

Soap lets his hand rest against Ghost's neck, before leaning forward to plant another quick kiss on his lips. He let his other hand run over the man's chest, sliding down greedily, before stopping just short of his waistline. "Was this your plan all along?" he asks.

Ghost smiles, a playful glint lighting in his eyes. "I've no idea what you're talking about, Johnny."

Thank you so much for reading this, it truly means a lot to me. Lately, I've felt in a bit of a funk with my writing, but I'm hoping to write more soon and get back into it.

A while back I did a poll for a Soap x Ghost x Roach thriller/horror fic. I've been working on the outline and it's coming a long way. But alas, I want to improve at writing Ghostsoap before tackling that behemoth.

Feedback would be absolutely appreciated and welcome, however, I'm just happy if you enjoyed what you read 🙂 if you didn't, tell me what I could do better please, I'm serious 😭

Thanks for reading! ｡^‿^｡

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mwii #ghost mwii #call of duty #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mwii #mw2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2

32 notes · View notes