#let’s pretend my sink is not overflowing

[angelltheninth]

Yuji and Sukuna Share You in the Public Bathroom

Pairing: Yuji Itadori x Fem!Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: nsfw, smut, threeway, mirror sex, competitive sex, rivalry, clit stimulation, gentle to rough sex, creampie, eye contact, name calling, degradation, cunillingus, Sukuna's hand mouth

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: It's that time of the month and I'm going feral.

Out of the three of you Yuji was the most patient, he could have waited until you got out of the station, back home to his place, but you and Sukuna had other plans. Mostly it was Sukuna, you just went along with it. That's how you found yourself barely balancing on your feet, gripping the edge of a cold sink, moaning while Yuji fucked you from behind and Sukuna ran his palms and mouths all over your thighs.

"Ya sure know how to pick them, don't ya Yuji? She was pretending to be all nice and tame but fuck her a few times and look at what we got. A real eager slut." Sukuna's tongue licked it's way up your thigh and between your legs, the tattooed appendage pressing against your clit and staying there, feeling you shake.

Yuji groaned against your neck, pressing hot kisses against hotter flesh. He nudged your legs apart with his foot, his hard cock sinking deeper. You knew you should have kept your mouth shut but it was proving to be impossible.

"I told you, we should have waited." He huffed, hips smacking against your ass. "But you got me all riled up baby. And now I have to... I have to... not gonna let him... beat me to it."

"Yuji, keep going. I'm so close, I want to come." Your eyes met his, equally as hungry as wild but still with that underline of softness you're used to from him. Not like Sukuna, not like his mouth wrapping, kissing and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "Yeess, oh fuck. Harder!"

"Sweetheart, ya know I love to hear ya, but right now we need ya to be quiet for a bit." The other hand moved up your chin and cheek, tongue licking your skin until it pushed inside your mouth. It was a feeling you still needed to get used to, being stimulated in so many places at once. Your pussy clamped down around Yuji's cock and you moved one leg up on the sink, letting it hit deeper inside you. "Ha, see that Yuji? Our little cockslut wants it so bad. Practically a bitch in heat."

"Beautiful. You're so beautiful when you get like this. You're taking me so well baby. Let me come inside you yeah?" Yuji stumbled, pace growing uneven and sloppy.

You pulled away from Sukuna's mouth while grinding your hips in a circle, riding Yuji's dick and Sukuna's mouth. "I want it yes, need you to come inside me Yuji, Sukunaa-ah! Keep your tongue right there!" It was like you didn't have control of your body anymore, it craved them both, cock, mouth, tongue, all of them, fucking you until you came with a moan that sounded off every wall in the bathroom.

Yuji groaned his release against your ear, nearly snarling, as his cm flooded your womb, overflowing onto the floor.

"Aw, can't be making a mess now can we?" Sukuna chuckled and pushed his tongue into your cunt right as Yuji pulled his cock out. "Come on bitch, one more, give me one more, right on my tongue." You barely bucked your hips against his hand, the thick, long tongue licking inside of you, right up against your sweet spot. "That's it, my good slut." Sukuna hummed against your pussy as you pressed your legs closed and came for the second time, your vision blurry and eyes unfocused.

"Hey, don't pass out. That'd look real bad." You registered the slow flow of water, followed by Yuji's cold hand against your cheek rousing you back to consciousness. "Let's get you home babe."

[beforeimdeceased]

I’m actually in LOVE with crybaby!!! It’s so good😫😫😫

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT8, FINAL PART!

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you weren’t you anymore.

a/n: it’s so over…thank you all for the love you’ve shown crybaby! i’m happy to say i’m actually proud of something i’ve written, for the first time in a long time. thank you for reading and for all your comments and support! tags: @skylerwhitwyo

you’re a crisis of my faith

masterlist.

you weren’t you anymore. you weren’t you when abby opened the door to find you and ellie tangled together in an illicit affair. you weren’t you when you looked into her eyes, saw the pain and agony, and asked her if she didn’t mind closing the door. that you were busy doing something.

you weren’t you because you didn’t chase after her when she left. because you didn’t apologize, you just went on as you were. forgetting. you went on forgetting all the way home in her car. melting the pain away, filling the silence with meaningless conversation she was too upset to engage in. knuckles white while she gripped the steering wheel.

you’re not yourself.

at first it was fun to let go with ellie. she liked that you didn’t care anymore. that you could joke around with each other. that she didn’t have to walk on eggshells with you. or atleast, that’s how she felt. until she was missing you on tour one night.

alone in a bar, waiting for dina and jesse, she came across someone that looked as doe eyed as you used to be. her heart started to sink when she skipped over.

another bar, years ago. when you’d caught her after another show in which she’d made a mistake. you came to her with flowers from a fan and a note. “hey ellie this is—“

“fuck i’m such a fucking idiot.” she blurts. you sigh, anticipating a string of curses and insults, but she sees the note and the flowers. “what’s this?”

“it’s a note from a fan, she didn’t get to catch you before you ran off.”

she holds her hand out and you place the piece of paper in it. standing as you hold the flowers. watching her read it.

this is the first concert i’ve been to in a while and i just want to say thank you so much. i struggle a lot with social anxiety and big crowds and stuff but i really wanted to see you. i’ve been a fan since i found your guy’s cover of take on me on soundcloud and it struck a deep chord within me. you’re amazing, you know that, but i just wanted to tell you that. just in case you forget.

— your biggest fan

you hand her the flowers, pretending not to see her tears. pretending not to feel teary eyed yourself. because you’d never seen her sad cry. you’ve seen her angry cry plenty of times, but never fix her face into a frown and let the strains of tears overflow. you look away as sadness fills the space between you.

“you’re ellie williams right?” the doe eyed girl brings her back to the present. she nods. “in the flesh.”

it only took a couple drinks and ellie’s charms to lure her away from the crowded area. nestled in the corner of the bar, ellie latching her mouth onto the girls neck. imagining your body in place of hers. pretending her moans were yours. wishing that she was you.

she’d felt dirty after she finished, a feeling that was entirely new to her. you both weren’t obligated to only be with each other after that night in the bathroom, but she couldn’t get you out of her mind. maybe it was because the girl reminded her of you? then she remembered that you weren’t like that anymore. that you had completely changed.

when tour ended and the group returned home, you took it upon yourself to throw a party. the old you would have gone for a small get together at your house, with the three of them and donuts, but the new you was leaning towards some club soirée.

you were excited to show everyone more of the new you. a new style to match your new personality. a new way of living to replace your old one. completely killing the girl you’d been before.

you met them at dina and jesse’s place, ensuring you’d be there the second they got off the tour bus. excitedly rushing over to give them a hug, and ellie an awkward handshake. they look you up and down, taking in your changed appearance with concern. “new clothes?” jesse speaks up.

“new me.” you shrug, helping them carry their bags up.

when everything is settled in, they all grab a seat on the couch. you slump into their loveseat, sighing. “so there’s this party...”

dina shakes her head. “no no absolutely not. i love you, but god we’re exhausted. no party tonight.”

“it’s tomorrow. it’s your welcome back party.” the corner of your mouth twitches. “i want to sleep for atleast a week.” dina huffs. “i need to go shower right now actually.” she gets up, placing a kiss on your forehead when she passes by. jesse does the same, following behind her.

you don’t take offense to it. this might’ve hurt you a little bit in the past, feeling stupid for planning a party when it’d make sense that they want to rest. now, you didn’t care. you could party by yourself. you could party with ellie.

you look over at her, and she looks like a wounded stray. like she’s guilty of something she didn’t do. you get up and join her in place of the lovebirds. a wide smile on your face. “are you gonna come to the party?”

she breathes. “maybe. i don’t know yet.”

it’s silent for a beat. you pull out your phone and she remembers the day she took it. the agony in your voice when you were asking for it back. the day she made you cry. she shakes away the thought.

“how about we play a game?”

the peace you were experiencing in the moment felt foreign. it’s been years since you had a chance to have quality time with ellie. without her ruining it, ofcourse. it was almost like those first few weeks back when you met. playing all the board games lodged in the bookshelf of jesse’s parent’s place. before him and dina had moved in together.

these were those very same games. monopoly, sorry, connect four, and more. you settled on connect floor, crisscrossing your legs on the floor. she joins you, getting comfortable.

“i’ll keep score!” you offer, going to your phone’s notes. before you can do much about it, you realize that it’s shutting off because the battery is low. you lodge it into your back pocket and shrug, grabbing an empty envelope off of the couples counter. “my phones dead, i’ll just write it.”

then you’re making a t chart, and ellie feels as if all the air is being kicked out of her lungs. your handwriting is the same as the one that was on that letter.

but that can’t be true, right? this is the same fan who’s been writing her for years. this is handwriting that’s been on signs held up at shows. the handwriting on a small cluster of loyal groupie’s handmade tshirts.

but surely she’d have noticed this before. you’d written in front of her before, right? memories were fuzzily being put back together in the moment. your unfiltered and unconditional love for her. your kindness that you’d extended even when she was mean to you. even when she was cruel.

even when you’d had enough of the tear filled nights and decided you needed time away. you still asked how ellie was, she could hear it on the other side of the fucking phone. when you were talking to dina and jesse. when you were communicating love through them to her.

you called all those rehab centers to get her help, that’s how jesse had found one so fast. you left her meds on the table for her the next morning, not dina. it was your voice telling her she’d had enough. it was you, being brave enough to take her verbal lashings because you knew if she didn’t take it out on you, she would take it out on herself.

it was you, it was always you. she was remembering now.

“ellie?”

you look away from the paper to find her crying. crying because the you that was always there, had slipped between her nimble fingers. had melted into the cracks of hatred. she was crying because she realized why she was feeling out of sorts. she hadn’t gotten a letter this week.

a letter from—well, you.

she wanted to yell at you. to scream at you. to call you stupid for staying around when you know how she is. she wanted to curse herself for getting you to let your guard down with a fake apology, and fucking it up all over again. for pushing you past your breaking point.

“i don’t wanna play anymore.” she felt disgusting. she felt like she was going to be sick. “ellie what’s the matter—“

she’s hyperventilating now, watching as you slowly slide towards her. extending your arms while you try to catch her in a hug. she thought back to the days she called you useless. called you pathetic. called you a crybaby.

you hold her, and it’s the first time she’s ever truly felt held. the first time she’s in your arms and she’s sober. the first time she’s in your arms and she feels sorry. truly, terribly sorry.

you pull her in closer to you, turning her onto her side so you can rub your thumb across her cheek. wiping some of her tears away. she begins to cry even harder, but you don’t push her away. even when your pants are soaked and snotty. you let her lay there, and cry into you.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

PALentines day 💋

Bale!Bruce Wayne x reader drabble <3

A/N: we all know about Valentines day, we've beard about Galentines day, now get ready for Palentines day!! A day to celebrate the most platonic of friendships... most of the time.

(I'm sorry that this is so short, I've been trying to write some shorter stuff lately <3)

~Fi 🐝

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Friends. That's what you were. The friendliest, most platonic tier of friends. Okay, you were good friends. You did hang out a lot, and it was always fun. Maybe best friends is a better term. You went to each other for advice and whatever was on your mind, always having someone to confide in.

Bruce was the best best friend, which is why he stood in front of your door with a overly dramatic bouquet of flowers and a disgustingly expensive box of chocolates.

Because, if your friend doesn't have a valentine, you step up and make them a little surprise to brighten their day! ... right? This isn't weird. No, he's just being a good friend, that's all.

At least that's what he told himself when his brows furrowed and a subtle feeling of regret started to seep into his bones. He hated how much this felt like he was actually taking you out and not like a thoughtful gesture you'd get from a friend.

And it didn't help his case of being madly in love with you, either. He hated himself for how much he liked this, being able to pretend that you were more than just friends for even a split second. That he was able to do what he's been wanting to do for years; show you just how much you truly mean to him.

Bruce has had a gray, dull and gloomy life. Everything seemed to go wrong for him, throwing him deeper and deeper into emotional ruin. But then you came along and made everything just that little bit more bearable. You were like his little ray of sunshine that broke through the heavy clouds and make him see the beautiful colors of the world again.

And he knows that he can never give you back just how much you've given him, but some flowers and a box of pralines are the steps in the right direction... right? Jesus Christ, what was he doing? He's just your best friend. God, this IS weird.

And for a beat, he'd actually thought about turning straight on his heel and sinking into a pit of shame once he was back in the privacy of his own home. Bruce huffed in frustration at himself. He'd been standing in front of your door like this, like an idiot, for the past 10 minutes and still hadn't found the courage to knock.

The crease between his brows softened. What if... you appreciated his gesture? What if, this was exactly what you needed after a rough week. Just someone thinking of you. And, what if... you felt the same? A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, along with a pinch in his heart.

Bruce wanted nothing more than for it to be true, to know that you've been loving him just as he's been loving you. He was never a fan of hope, but that's all his lovesick heart was filled with now. Overflowing with the desperate hope that he has the chance to make you his and treat you like the treasure you are.

He had the urge to fall to his knees before you and just let everything spill out, how you made his life better in every way, and that he was but a man who couldn't help but fall for his guardian angel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

🌹

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

[darkroomkisses]

Teacher’s Pet (Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader)

A/N: Woooo I'm back with a little CollegeAU fic feat. Bully!Rafe Cameron. <3

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/ DUB-CON !Read at your own risk!

Words: 3.1k / Proofread once!

Banner by @straywords 🥀

Summary: Bully!Rafe Cameron and you get paired together for a class project. This gives Rafe the opportunity to fuck with you in the worst way yet.

Rafe languidly ran his hand up and down his cock. His thoughts possessed with images of you. The Cameron's Estate was quiet, it was late. Rafe was lying in bed. He imagined you on your knees kissing his cock from his tip to his balls. Flicking your tongue over his most sensitive spots. He hated how you consumed his thoughts almost every day. 

He would never admit how much he wanted you. It made him livid; he despised you since you were in high school. Now you were in college, sitting in the same classroom as him. His hate morphed into something dark. He had fantasies of having you under him and under his control. He knew you thought you were better than him, you walked into class everyday ready to conquer the day.

He thought it was pathetic and meaningless to care so much as grades and being elite. He stroked harder, biting his lip to keep quiet, his thoughts overflowing with putting you in your place. 

Finally, you’re not in control, wedged in a situation you can’t get out of. Rafe imagined your eyes wet with tears, throat tightening, hollowed cheeks as he forced himself deep in your wet mouth. His strong grip on your hair, keeping you in place. His stride speeds up ready to release. An image of you looking up at him nervous and damaged, makes him explode, panting hard he lets out a sigh pleased but not satisfied. He was still aching because he desired the real thing and couldn’t wait much longer. 

The next day gave Rafe the opportunity he’s been waiting for. Rafe watched as you walked into class, your head held high, beaming with excitement for the day. He was annoyed already, what did you have to be so bubbly about? 

You greeted Mr. Bennett, smiling so sweetly in his face. Rafe knows that fucker would love a chance to play with an innocent little thing like you. You were so naïve. Mr. Bennett was one of the younger teachers at the school. Bright eyed new teacher who didn’t have the years of experience wearing him down yet. He had dark hair, a solid build. Rafe would admit that, but Rafe knew he was better than him. He was richer and hotter, what’s the competition? But the way he touched your shoulder made his blood boil. He hated the way Mr. Bennett interacted with you. He clenched his fists. You made your way to your seat in front of rafe, Not even sparing him a glance, but his eyes don’t leave you. 

*

“Can anyone answer my question?” Your teacher looks around the wide classroom, full of students with bored expressions and heads down. Your hand shoots up and you answer correctly. 

“Very good dear.” He smiles at you then continues the discussion. 

You hear a scoff behind you. Your heartbeat quickens, feeling your skin prickle. You already know that it’s no one other than Rafe Cameron, your bully. Your number one tormentor. 

You don’t turn around or make acknowledgement that you notice it. He leans forward, his scent invading your personal space. 

“Fucking teacher’s pet. Probably fucking him too.” He hisses at you leaning back into his seat. You shudder at his words. You’re angry at yourself for letting such juvenile words get to you. You sit up straight, pretending to not give a fuck. 

Mr. Bennett announces “Okay, students” He claps his hands together gathering everyone’s attention. “I’m assigning partners for our next project.” 

You try not to let your face drop. The class breaks out in groans. Mr. Bennett laughs, calming the class down. and calls out the pairs. You nervously shake your leg waiting for your name. Tapping your fingers on your laptop. “Alright, Rafe Cameron and Y/N L/N.” Your heart sinks. That familiar scent fills your nose again. 

“Looks like were partners, teacher’s pet.” 

The feeling like you just got punched in the gut hits you hard. The rest of the class goes by in a blur. Your mind racing with ways to get out of this. Mr. Bennett dismisses the class. You stand up quickly, ready to bolt. Rafe is right behind you, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Of course, I get paired with the fucking nerd, fuck it.” He sighs dramatically. 

“My house. Tomorrow at 5.” Rafe says impudently. 

You gape at him taken aback by his words, you try to force a smile, ignoring his insults. 

“Oh um, I thought we could just meet at the library or something. Coffee shop maybe?” 

Rafe looks at you with disgust like you just said the stupidest thing ever. 

“What did I just say? My house at 5.” He bumps your shoulder on his way out the door. You clench your jaw. You take a deep breath and make your way out the door. 

*

You’re standing outside the front door on the massive Cameron's estate. Uneasiness fills your body; you take a deep breath before your fist raps on the door. You hoped no one would answer, and you wouldn’t have to face the darkness that is rafe cameron. The door swings open quickly, startling you. A beat passes you don’t move or blink. 

“You just gonna stand there looking stupid or come inside?” Rafe stares down at you as you shift your feet, trying to will yourself to move. He looks at you expectingly, you slowly walk past him standing in the doorway watching you. You stand in the hallway in awe from the beauty of his home. It’s quiet and clean and massive. You clear your throat when you hear the front door close and lock. 

Rafe makes his way to the couch; your eye catches the open beer on the table and the half smoked joint. You twist your face at that. You follow him sitting to the far side of the couch. Rafe moves closer to you, enclosing the little space keeping you apart. 

Rafe looks you up and down, you were wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt. The heat making it impossible to really cover up. His eyes lingering on your bare thighs and moves up to your chest. You were distracted from rummaging through your bag taking out the study materials. 

Rafe couldn't care less about the project, but thankful this gave him an excuse to be alone with you. He shifts in the seat and his thighs pressed harder against yours. He feels himself getting worked up by the slightest movement. He was dying to touch you. Your laptop sits on your lap, explaining the work you started, Rafe barely gives you more than a few grunts of acknowledgement. 

“So, you see this is the conflict and we need to offer a more detailed explanation and-’’ You stop taking when you feel Rafe’s fingers lazily brush your bare thigh. Rafe’s eyes are low. He wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. Too preoccupied with his own thoughts. Your eyes flashed to the beer; it was long gone. Your stomach dropped. 

“Rafe.” You said making him look at you. 

“Don’t…” You try to push his hand off you. The way you said his name set fire to Rafe’s grip, making him grasp firmer. He took his other hand to touch your face, he was looking into your eyes.

“What the fuck-’’ You were cut off quickly by Rafe roughly kissing you. You used all your strength to push him back. 

“Get the hell off” you demand, instinctively wiping your mouth.

Keeping him away at arm’s length. Rafe looks at your mad expression. 

“So, you’ll let that dick Mr. Bennett touch you but I can’t?” Rafe spits out, anger lacing his words. You looked confused, not understanding his rage. He stands up, pacing back and forth.  

“He’s-he’s our teacher Rafe, that’s all.” You move the laptop to the table.

“Fuck that. I see the way he looks at you. I bet he dreams about bending your smartass over his desk and fucking you stupid.” Rafe says crudely. He was in front of you now. Close. Too close. 

You sit stunned for a beat. You’re perplexed and a little frightened. Why was Rafe Cameron trying to kiss you? and why was he jealous of your teacher? It was all too much. You manage to spit out some words. 

“What? Mr. Bennett is a great guy and not a sick weirdo like you like to imagine. You’re acting fucking crazy Rafe!” 

That did it. 

That was it. 

Rafe’s fingers were tight on your jaw in an instant. You let out a little squeak. 

“Don’t ever call me crazy, ya hear me!? I’m not fucking crazy!” Rafe yells in your face making you flinch hard. You hate being yelled at; you can feel the tears escaping. 

“I’m sorry” you try to utter despite being Rafe still having his hand on your jaw. 

“Aw you’re sorry?” Rafe mocks your pitiful apology. 

“You should be sorry; you walk around all high and mighty. Like you don’t give a shit about anything or anyone but your stupid fucking grades. Its fucking boring.” Rafe cruel words stabs your heart. He lets go of your face. 

“That's not true! and I know I shouldn’t call you names, but you really said some fucked up stuff.” You try to placate him, trying to get him to ease up. 

“Don’t be a fucking baby, you try to act all innocent, I bet your panties get soaked when that loser touches you. When he compliments you. I bet even when you get a fucking ‘A’ on a test you’re soaked” Rafe obscenely says licking his lips. Sinking to his knees in front of you.

You gulp down. His words and movements make you nervous, even though there is little truth to it. You do find Mr. Bennett attractive, and that makes you feel guilty enough, he’s your teacher, not a peer. Now Rafe is calling it out? Like its written all over your face. 

“No” you shake your head hard. 

“Rafe, just forget it and let’s get back to work yeah?” 

He ignores you. 

You feel his hands on your thighs now. You try to back up and free yourself but can’t move back any further. 

Nowhere to go. 

You’re trapped between the couch and Rafe, his hands explore your thighs, reaching closer and closer to the top of your shorts. 

“Hm, how about now?” Rafe wonders out loud, more to himself instead to you.

“Huh?” you manage, confused at his words. 

“Let’s see if you’re wet. Maybe you like being treated like this. Not being in control. Having someone telling you what to do. Make you do shit you would never do freely?” 

You don’t say a word, a little afraid of what will come out. Your thoughts were so jumbled in this moment.  

You’re scared yet you feel your skin flush. Rafe comes closer to you and hooks his fingers in the sides of your shorts. His teeth connect with the zipper on your shorts pulling it down slowly. You hand flies over your mouth, keeping your whimpers locked inside. Rafe pulls your shorts down and it pools to at ankles. Rafe takes a moment to stare at you sitting in front of him just in your panties and shirt. He pulls your legs apart, spreading them wide. 

“Rafe” your voice quivers. 

You want him to stop but your body desperately wants to be touched. You hated the fact it was Rafe doing it. He hated you and wanted you at the same time, it was twisted and wrong, but he made something spark inside of you. Something you haven’t felt before. You feel out of control and self-conscious. You can feel your wetness dampen your panties. You knew Rafe could tell by the grin that molded on his face. 

“I knew it” he breathed out like he was proud of you. 

“Little little slut” he shoves his hand between your legs, feeling up your panties, the wet spot becoming more obvious. He strokes his fingers on your slit making you tense up; you try to close your legs, but Rafe prevents you. 

“Don’t be shy now…I thought you liked being the center of attention?” Rafe remarks sarcastically, playing with your folds through your panties. You tremble from his touch, you let out a little gasp when your panties are pulled to the side.  

“Fucking hot, better than I imagined” Rafe murmured. Your eyes bug, shocked by his confession. 

“Touch yourself” Rafe rasps, his breathing heavy. 

“What? No, I can’t” you blurt out. That was not what you were expecting.

“Don’t tell me you can’t. I want to see you touch yourself, just like I was doing to you” Rafe stands tall now, his figure looming over you. 

There is little room for argument, you shakily run your hands over your wetness, coating your fingers. You tease yourself lightly, Rafe is watching you closely. 

“Hike your legs up.” 

You almost whimper at his demand. You slowly bring your knees as close to your chest, you’re in a squatting position, spread wide for him. You try to close your eyes and forget he’s there while you do as you’re told. 

“No no, keep your eyes on me” Rafe runs his hands over the tent forming in his shorts.

 You try to keep eye contact with him. Your brain feels like its short circuiting, you want to stop, make him stop. You’re smarter than this. You know this is some sick game Rafe wants you apart of. Another way to fuck with you like he’s been doing since high school. 

“Keep going, don’t stop touching yourself baby” Rafe purrs. He drops his shorts, standing in his underwear. 

Baby

Your breath catches in your throat at that. You let out a moan feeling dizzy, you are close.

Rafe was so satisfied with how you pleasured yourself in front of him, for him. It was almost too much, he wanted to fuck you so bad. But he needed you warmed up for him. He probably wouldn’t get another chance, why not make it good. 

“That's right baby, I want you to cum for me, cum on your fingers looking up at me” Rafe was on edge he was stroking himself slowly, trying hard to stay cool. The look on your face wasn’t making it easy, he can see you were fighting it, he wanted you to let go. 

“Fucking cum for me, cum for me” Rafe practically begs, his own movements losing rhythm. 

You do just that. You feel electricity shooting through you, you jerk against your fingers, your wetness coating them, you let out a broken moan, riding your fingers for a little longer. you try to even your breathing as you come down. 

“Good girl” Rafe praises. You try your best not to sob, you drop your legs and cover your face, feeling embarrassment wash over you. Rafe stalks forward and takes your hands from your face. Knocking you on your back and pins your wrists against the couch, above your head. 

“Rafe, wait please” You sob for real now, not ready to give more, you feel spent after your climax. 

Rafe lets out a scoff and rips your panties down your legs. He pulls your shirt over your head to expose your chest to him. 

“Always knew you had a great rack under all those ugly baggy clothes you wear” Rafe takes your bra pulling it down to cup under your boobs. You let out a groan when Rafe’s teeth meet one of your nipples, he carefully grazes against it, then sucks hard on it, you almost scream at the sensation. When he repeats it on the other side only rougher, you let out a scream, arching your back.  

“Stop, that hurts” you whine, panting feeling overwhelmed by pain and pleasure. Rafe laughs 

“I love hearing you cry baby, it’s so sexy” Rafe groans. He brings his mouth over your clavicle and bites unforgivingly, probably leaving a mark. You sob out, squirming under him. Rafe leaves kisses over your collarbone, then drags his tongue tenderly over your skin from left to right. 

“Rafe, enough please” Your begging falls on deaf ears. Rafe is too lost in the pleasure to stop himself now. 

“Look at me. Now” Rafe commands you look in in the eyes, holding his gaze. Rafe runs his tongue over your lips ever so lightly. He brushes his lips against yours before crushing his them hard against yours, rolling your lips with his. With you distracted by his kiss, he takes this moment to burying himself into you. You plead at him, begging to slow down but Rafe grunts into your mouth losing himself inside you. 

“Fucking Christ, you feel so good, too good.” Rafe rasps. 

He hooks one of your legs over his waist to give himself better access. Rafe lets go of your wrists; you feel the bruises coming. Rafe nuzzles his head into your neck. You try to push him off, to get some space, just to breath for a minute but it’s impossible. Rafe is too far gone, it’s like trying to move a boulder.

You pull on Rafe’s hair, he doesn’t move. He groans loudly while his hips rut into you harder and harder.

“Fuck yes, God you’re fucking wet for me” Rafe moans, his movements become frantic. He’s hungry for you and your fight only makes his desire intensify. You feel defeated you can’t take much more; you’re losing to the intoxicating feeling of Rafe’s cock splitting you open. You dig your fingers in his shoulders hard, he’s growls, and brings your hand to his neck, he squeezes a little too hard not caring about your comfort. 

“You made me like this, it’s all your fault.” Rafe rhythm gets sloppy his climax approaches. You feel him pulsing inside of you. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum baby, deep in you.” Rafe can’t hold back any longer, you plead with him to pull out. You beat on his shoulders. 

“Fuck fuck fuck” Rafe’s hip jerk against you, he goes still inside you. His hand is still around your neck. When he finally lets go you cough, trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t get out from under him fast enough, you push past him, grabbing your clothes. 

“What the fuck! like actually, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You’re seething and you have tears in your eyes, you wipe them away quickly. Rafe is still hazy post his orgasm, it takes him a moment to get his bearing. He stands up, gathering his clothes that were discarded. 

“Not so perfect now, are ya? Now we are equals. There’s shit in this world you can’t control, just thought I’d show you first.” Rafe smirks wickedly at you. You’re speechless. Stunned. You huff and frantically grab your belongings. Ready to run the hell out of there. 

“Oh, and we better get an ‘A’ on this project, teacher’s pet.” You can hear the smile in his voice as you slam his front door. 

[missmeinyourbones]

Oooo if I'm still on time to send a tiny request I'd like to go for levi + fake relationship trope!! 💕

…

"please?"

"no."

you shoot levi a frown, one that’s supposed to make him feel bad, but based on your roommate’s unwavering glare, you’d say it’s unsuccessful. 

he returns his focus to scrubbing the glass in his hand, but you’re at his shoulder before he can fully ignore you.

"look, i'm desperate," you plead. 

levi lets out a dry laugh that holds anything but humor, "clearly, rude, and still no."

you huff and cross your arms in defense. all you’re asking is for is levi to pretend to be your boyfriend for one little night. your mother throws an annual dinner party during your monthly phone call, you’d panicked and told her you would be bringing a special someone this year. 

it’s just to get her off my back, is what you told both yourself and levi, but the nausea in your stomach says otherwise.

"you don't even have to do anything,” you continue to argue. “just be tolerable and maybe hold my hand once or twice."

levi’s eyebrows raise in interest.

"oh, well when you put it that way,” he watches you perk up in excitement before ripping the bandaid off and returning to his blasé tone, “absolutely not."

"oh come on,” you obnoxiously groan. “i'm not that bad, am i?"

levi slows his movements as he grabs another dirty plate from the sink and begins to scrub calculated circles onto the glass. 

in defeated silence, you grab the towel next to him and pluck the plate from his hands, drying it off and setting it aside with the other clean dinnerware. 

the two of you get into a familiar pattern of washing and drying. and after a moment of stillness, levi speaks up. 

"it's not you."

the faucet drips onto the soaking plates below and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

"what is it, then?"

he sits on his answer for a moment before clearing his throat with a cough. "i'm not familiar with fake boyfriend etiquette," he claims. 

you turn to face him, "levi, there's no such thing as fake boyfriend etiquette."

he ignores you and you place the towel back down onto the counter in frustration.

"come on, just for one night," you’re begging at this point, "and next month when my mom calls, i can say we broke up the next day."

a sour taste floods levi’s mouth at the thought of him meeting your mother under such tasteless conditions.

sure, he’d love to attend your family party with you, but not as your pretend boyfriend—as your roommate, then as your friend, and then maybe as your real boyfriend. what’s so hard about that? 

"y'know, it'd be nice if i got to meet your mother and she didn't hate me for the rest of my life," he scoffs at the makeshift plan you seemed to have on deck. 

you quietly laugh a bit at his dramatics before grabbing the soaked pan from his hand and setting it back down in the sink.

"don't you mean the rest of her life?" you tease. 

"no," he retorts, "because at the rate this is going, i'll be dead from high blood pressure in a month, at most."

you shoot him a knowing look and he rolls his eyes in response. 

his stomach churns when you lower your voice one final time, sincerity overflowing from your sweet request, "please?"

levi knows he’s going to agree eventually. hell, he knew he’d be going to this party as your fake boyfriend whether he wanted to or not the very moment you popped the question with a slight pout. 

because he’d do anything you asked of him, including tasks far more advanced than whatever your roommate agreement laid out. so when you grab his wrist and look up at him with pleading eyes, he’s already planning which suit to wear to your mother’s house. 

"fine."

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader is Shawn's assistant for NXT having an out-of-control night. Luckily for her, Ilja is always around to lend a helping hand and charming word where he can.

You rush into the building clutching an overflowing briefcase of files in one hand and your bag in the other. Your security badge swings violently against your chest as you weave through backstage personnel in a desperate attempt to make it to Shawn's office before he notices your absence.

You reach Shawn's office huffing and puffing like an animal. You shoulder through the door and thankfully find the room empty. "Oh thank god, I made it." You let out a shakey sigh and hurry over to your desk.

You set your stuff down and take a second to compose yourself. While you're catching your breath, the doorknob turns signaling that someone is coming in. You quickly scramble to your feet ready to greet who is surely Shawn arriving for the night.

"Oh, Ilja." Your rigid posture relaxes when the current NXT champion steps through the door. "Good evening." You sink back down into your chair with another sigh.

"Good evening, YN, my dear." Ilja flashes a debonaire smile at you as he aproaches your desk. "I saw you rushing across the loading bay earlier." He explains. "So I assumed that you could use a little pick-me-up before our night begins." He reveals a cup of hot coffee from catering in his hand.

You eye the coffee with a grateful smile and gladly take it from Ilja's hands. "Oh, thank you so much, Ilja." You thank him. "This is just what I needed after all that running I just did." You muse.

Ilja chuckles at your joke and nods. "I was happy to help, YN." He assures you. "Now! I will let you get back to work. Please do take care, my dear. And perhaps we will see one another again tonight." He bows his head at you with charming smile before turning and exiting the room.

You watch Ilja shut the door behind him and feel blush creeping up your neck. You've been hit on plenty of times by some of the NXT superstarts since you took this job as Shawn's assistant. But none of them have the charm and poetic way with words that Dragonuv does.

A few minutes later Shawn finally arrives and greets you as he comes into the room. "Evening, YN." He nods as he passes your desk.

"Evening, boss." You nod back at him, pretending to be enthralled with the various paperwork at your desk.

"YN, remind me what we've got scheduled for tonight." Shawn asks you as he makes his way around his much larger desk at the back of the room.

You nod and dig around for tonights schedule. Once you've located the paper you're looking for you rise from your seat and walk over to Shawn's desk.

"We've got two more Dusty cup matches tonight. Both Semi-finals. Roxanne Perez and Cora Jade have a match scheduled. Chase University also have a tag match against Gallus. As well as a few backstage segments and promo's being filmed." You read everything on the list before handing it to Shawn. "Oh! And you have a conferene call with Hunter in 15 minutes." You add.

"Right, conference call." Shawn sighs and glosses over the paper. "I want you out at the producers table while I'm on the call." He informs you. "Just in case something happens that would otherwise warrant my attention."

You nod and walk back over to your desk to get some work done before Shawn's conference call. "No problem, boss."

You reply to a few emails and fill out a paper or two before it comes time for Shawns conference call. Shawn gets ready to take the call and you dismiss yourself out to the producers table backstage.

"Hey, guys." You greet everyone at the table once you've arrived backstage. "Shawn is busy taking an important call so he's left me in charge in case anything goes down while he's busy." You explain as you take a seat at the table.

The others nod and everyone gets back to work. You sit and watch the action in the ring for while before you grow thirsty and decide to grab a water from the table on the other side of the room.

You are retreiving said water when Ilja happens through the room after filming a short backstage promo for the show. "YN, darling!" He greets you with a wide smile and walks over.

"Ilja! Hello again." You smile right back at him. "How are you since we last talked? Everything go well with your backstage promo?" You ask him.

"It went fine." Ilja nods. "And I'm looking forward to facing Trick Williams in the ring here in a couple of weeks." He adds.

You nod in agreement and take a sip of your water. "I'm sure it'll be a great match to watch."

"How are you?" Ilja asks you after a moment. "Shawn isn't working you too hard is he?" He lightheartedly jokes.

"Not at all." You giggle. "The job can be hard at times, yeah. But I do love my work." You assure Ilja. "Plus, I have noticed a certain someone is always nearby to make my day better." You grin at him.

Ilja chuckles and nods. "It's my pleasure, YN. Anything I can do to ensure that stunning smile graces your lovely features, my dear."

You begin to blush again and bow your head in embarassment. "Ilja." You giggle to yourself when someone from the producers table begins beckoning you back to work. "Sorry, I should get back." You sheepishly dismiss yourself.

"Of course." Ilja nods and steps out of the way. "I'd never dream of keeping you from your work. Have a wonderful rest of your night, YN." He flashes you one last frustratingly charming smile.

"You too, Ilja." You nod and hurry back off to the producer's table blushing like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

[endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus]

[Headcannons] A Day At The Beach w/ The Ghouls & Ghoulettes

Cutesy lil fluffy thoughts that came to me at 3 am about my favorite band.

Thank you to my writing muse and fabulous goddess @sink-me-in-your-ocean for always proofreading my docs.

Bone apple teet (-‿◦☀)

ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕟

bolts straight for the ocean, manically laughing - he very delulu but so stinking cute

wears fish themed swim trunks with matching fishy arm floaties

anyone who dares enter his domain is in for quite the surprise…

he pretends to be a shark

playfully gnaws on your ankles under the water before yanking on your leg and pulling you under

finds pretty seashells and gifts them to you with the most heart warming smile

“Rain! Its time to leave! Lets go!” you annoyingly yelled into the void of the blue ocean, knowing for damn sure he heard you.

In the distance you spot a gray blob emerging from the surface of the water, “NO!” the voice echoed back to shore before disappearing once again.

…

The car ride home, Rain was sitting in the back row curled up in a ball, tears silently flowing down his cheeks as he aimlessly stared out the window. *insert Summertime Sadness by Lana del Rey*

You roll your eyes as you catch a glimpse of him in the rear view mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, he is such a drama queen…

𝕄𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟

he’s here for the good vibes and shade

paints a thick coat of sunscreen from head to toe

lounges under the umbrella with a paperback book of Twilight

ends up falling asleep within 20 minutes

could honestly sleep for eternity

In a hushed whisper, “M-mountain?”, you gently nudge his shoulder, attempting to awake him so you can pack up the car and leave.

No response.

Anxiety slowly creeps in, i-is he dead?

His neck is exposed and you take two fingers to take his pulse, as soon as you make contact he jolts awake, both of you screaming. Him with a high-pitched shriek of fear and you in shock that he’s alive.

“I thought you were a vampire!” he hysterically gasped.

𝔻𝕖𝕨𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕡

hates despises water with a fiery passion (don’t get me started when it's time for him to bathe)

he made it his mission to dig the largest hole possible beside Phantom and Swiss who were on their separate crusade to construct the most glorious sand castle

starts clawing at the sand like a deranged dog, kicking the small particles in Phantom and Swiss’s face

gets scolded and growls at them before repositioning himself the other way

happily zens out in his proudly accomplished hole

doesn’t realize the high tide was coming in as the day went on, causing the shoreline to sneak in closer and closer

A small stream of water trickled into his territory but he ignored it, not thinking much of it at all and resumed his rest, leaning up against the high wall with his arms crossed. Dozing off after a laborious work day.

SWOOSH! A huge tidal wave of water crashed in, submerging him in salty depths, ultimately scaring him. He yelped and frantically tried to climb out of the overflowing pit. You rushed over to rescue him, pulling him up, his body shivering from the frigid temperature.

Once he secured his bearings within your arms, he angrily turned back to see the catastrophic wreckage. Madness ensued - every hair in his small figure shooting straight up and his tail viscously whipping side to side, creating dents in the soft sand.

Oh, he big mad.

This wasn’t the first time he’s lost his cool and most certainly will not be the last. He aggressively launched himself towards the evil aqua, nothing but pure rage fueling his very fiber. You swiftly caught him by the waist, wrapping your arms around him and digging your heels into the ground for proper anchorage.

He violently hissed and swatted his arms about like a mad man, you held onto him for dear life, shouting, “Dewdrop! Stop it!” over the savage snarling and profanity spewing out of his tiny mouth.

(home boy really thought he could physically throw hands with water).

ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕞 & 𝕊𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕤

true definition of bromance

begged and pleaded for you to buy them the “Super Duper Crazy Mega Plastic Sand Castle” building kit (as advertised on TV). Equipped with every tool in the shed to assemble the perfect castle of your dreams!

they damn well knew how to abuse their power of sad puppy dog eyes and pouting lips

so of course you caved into their ridiculous yet adorable request

They scouted the vast sandy land, personal privateers carrying out the Dark Lord’s decree. Dewdrop tagged along behind them as they paced back and forth in this vigorous expedition for the “perfect spot” to declare ownership.

Swiss grunted in annoyance, “That’s too far of a walk from the water, we need it to dampen the sand.”

Phantom sighed, pointing to the area Swiss had fallen in love with, “The rocks are going to get in the way, it's too close.”

The two continued to butt heads, both equally stubborn and childish.

Dewdrop stood in the middle of them, his head whipping between who was speaking. Bored with the endless bickering, he plopped down on the cushiony sand, tracing a phallic symbol in the pale dirt, “What about right here?”

They exchanged a mischievous look with one another, mirroring a brow raise at the fascinating offer. In unison they shouted, leaping in the air to tackle down poor little Dewdrop.

“LAND HO!”

𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖

fashioning the cutest teeny, weeny, polka dot bikini

sprawled out her towel on the pillowy ground and laid facing down

basking in the sun's scorching hot rays

much like a cat, she loved to lounge in the sun any chance she got

its ultraviolet rays recharging her energy- utter bliss

She stretched her limbs far out as she could before turning over to roast the front of her body, exhaling a deep yawn and placing large rounded shades over her eyes.

Her face scrunched in frustration at the commotion coming from Phantom, Swiss and Dewdrop hooting and hollering - it was disturbing her well deserved me time and she will not have them ruin it!

She propped up on her elbows, lowering the shades to the tip of her nose to gander at what the fuck was going on, “Aye!”, she roared loud enough for everyone within a mile radius to hear, “Shut up over there! I’m trying to relax!”

All three immediately stopped to stare at her with wide, fearful expressions, knowing from past experience she would definitely give em a good bop on the head for pissing her off.

In a stink eye glaring standoff with the Ghouls, she slowly pushed up the frame of her sunglasses -not breaking contact- to re-cover her eyes and reclined backwards to lay.

“Idiots…” she muttered to herself.

ℂ𝕦𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕦𝕤 & ℂ𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕦𝕤

life of the party

verybody wants to be em or fuck em

baddest bitches

matching skull patterned bikinis and fancy floppy hats

love checking out the locale mom and pop shops lined up along the beach

buys trinkets/souvenirs for the other Ghouls

*insert shopping spree montage*

The ultra plush sand squished and practically swallowed their feet as they struggled to walk back to the group, hands full of bags from the shopping haul that they kindly charged to Papa’s credit card.

After settling in at basecamp, they began to unload the many items from chic clothing pieces to varying sizes of memorability that were neatly bound in gift wrap and topped with a colorful bow.

Cirrus used her thumb and pointer finger to whistle, calling the unruly herd to gather. The Ghouls' faces lit up in excitement as they sprinted to welcome the Ghoulettes. As Cirrus distributed the presents, Cumulus unboxed a package of ice cream sandwiches, letting each individual Ghoul pick out a flavor as they approached.

Today was a great day for the beach.

[iwaoiness]

Valentine's

When Oikawa shuffles to the bathroom after getting out of bed (once he stretching like a cat, rubbing his face and staring at the ceiling with his feet on his boyfriend's back for five minutes while rethinking his existence in the vast world), he expects to relieve himself and begin his sacred three-step skincare before the daily duel with his hair.

This time, however, he is only able to do the former.

As he lifts his gaze from the sink, hands freshly cleansed, to meet his reflection, Oikawa’s sleepy eyes widen like saucers and his lips part. Instead of his reflection, there are dozens and dozens of white post-it notes covering the entire mirror— each slip of paper has different strokes on it, forming a giant tulip whose petals are painted in sky blue.

What the actual fuck.

Oikawa blinks and then rubs his eyes, thinking he’s still dreaming. But the drawing is still there, and when he gets a little closer, eyes squinting to fight his myopia, he can read the same thick, crooked kanjis that all the slips of paper have in the bottom corner: turn me.

With a tentative hand, he plucks the first post-it note, flipping it over with curiosity.

you’re my calm

The smile immediately spreads across Tooru's face, genuine, tender and drunk with love. Warmth begins to blossom inside his chest, spreading with the fluffiness of a cloud throughout his body, as he reaches another post-it.

you’re beatiful

And another one.

you’re mine

And then another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another.

you’re my light

you’re my home

you’re serenety

im in love with your bed hair

dont forget to wash your teeth

"Asshole" Oikawa, leaning against the sink, sneers with a wet voice but an indelible smile on his face as he continues to take the post-its and read them, one by one.

you’re my strength

you’re the heart of my heart

my tall and pretty boy

our souls are mates

you’re intelligent as hell

you’re my valentines

i couldn’t be prouder to have u as a partner

te quiero tanto, tooru

loving you is being free

you’re my favourite constellation

And when he reaches the last note and turns around, Tooru wants to cry.

Or well, he's already crying.

you're all i need and want

Oikawa lets out a soft laugh through his tears, sniffling through his nose before wiping his face with one of his shirt sleeves.

He loves Hajime so much that all that love overflows from his heart. Their bond is so strong, so solid, so immense, so ethereal. There are no words to encompass it, nothing that comes close. Loving Iwa-chan is part of his being, something he's been doing since before he could even babble.

And it's the same for Hajime. He loves Tooru as Tooru loves him. And he doesn't need more. They don't need any more.

He carefully leaves the post-its on the high shelf in the bathroom and runs back to the room. Iwaizumi (who pretends to sleep until he hears his boyfriend's hurried footsteps and smiles) barely has time to roll onto his back before Oikawa leaps at him, taking his breath away with a big oof.

"How did you do that?" Oikawa murmurs against Iwaizumi's neck, his long arms stretched out on either side of his head and his legs entangled.

Hajime snorts with amusement, wraps Oikawa against his chest, gently kisses his temple and plunges his hand into his tousled tresses.

"It hasn't been difficult having a boyfriend with such a heavy sleeper”

Oikawa lets out a mock squawk of indignation, shaking his head in playful disbelief. Iwaizumi turns to face him, his grin widening as he locks eyes with Oikawa's narrowed gaze, his irises gleaming like honey in the sunlight against his flushed cheeks. They're close, close enough for their noses to almost touch, and Hajime can discern each freckle sprinkled across Tooru's nose.

“I hate you, Iwa-chan. You'd better have a real bouquet of tulips ready” Oikawa arches an eyebrow, but his lips curve treacherously into a genuine smile as his hand now moves to caress Iwaizumi's face.

"I knew I should have drawn a cactus" He rolls his eyes in amusement, giving Tooru's waist a gentle squeeze as he laughs.

"I love you so much," Oikawa whispers shortly after, gently stroking Iwa’s cheek with his thumb. "You are all I need and want, too. My everything."

Iwaizumi tilts his face and rubs his nostrils tenderly, his eyes watery and love coursing through his veins with the warmth of the summer sun.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Tooru."

...

hope u enjoyed valentine's day!! ♡ 

u can find more fics and find me on my ao3 🍉

[t3acupz]

🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

9. Self-inflicted

The first time, it happened by accident. Will was gutting a freshly caught trout, running the thin knife across its belly when his hand slipped, and he nicked his finger. He was surprised when the pain felt… good. That nightmarish scene flashed in his mind like a movie on an old VHS tape. Grainy images, seeing himself in third person, like it wasn’t really him watching Abigail bleed to death. He touched the smile across his abdomen, Hannibal’s parting gift to him.

“You’re bleeding!” Matthew hurried over to Will from the cozy fireplace where moments before he was petting Buster. The younger man took Will’s hand, and brought him to the sink. “Let’s wash off the blood, okay?” Matthew would sometimes catch Will in these dazed states but they were becoming more frequent. Will didn’t have to tell him what was troubling him, he already knew by the name he refused to mention. Even when Matthew would bring up Hannibal Lecter, Will would get quiet, and mumble that he needed to go work on his boat or take the dogs out for a walk.

Matthew could live with the fact that some wounds won’t heal. That living with Will also meant living with the memory of Hannibal. It was a peculiar love triangle, one that Matthew acknowledged, and Will pretended did not exist.

The second time was deliberate. The shower was on but Will was in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection until he could see after images of Hannibal’s face when he blinked. He took one of the razors in his medicine cabinet, and ran a finger over the edge. A red droplet stained the porcelain sink. You and I have begun to blur. He pressed down on his wrist, going in a vertical line, watching the blood trickle out like the branching pattern of a sprawling tree’s roots.

Matthew had given Hannibal those wrist scars, by proxy. But the ownership of them belonged to Will, and Will alone.

He was about to begin on his other arm when the knocking on the bathroom door became louder, more frantic. “Will?! You’ve been in there for an hour, please, open the door.” Matthew begged, falling on his knees and hitting his fist against the doorframe.

Will felt like he was under water but he wasn’t standing in the shower. He was in a stream, watching the Ravenstag move across the dappled sunlight on the edge of the forest. He could hear a distant banging, but he didn’t know where it was coming from.

Matthew broke down the door with a final hard kick. Will was on the floor of the bathroom, water was pooling all around him from the overflowing bathtub.

“NO!! WILL— GOD NO!” Matthew picked up the unconscious man, and brought him to the queen sized bed. He quickly ran down the stairs to fetch the first aid kit, and spent the next hour stitching the four inch long cut on Will’s left wrist.

Will was pale, his body felt ice cold. Matthew wrapped him in layers of blankets as Winston laid by his master’s feet, warming his toes. Hours had gone by, and the younger man was about to call an ambulance when Will spoke with a hoarse voice. “Don’t.”

Matthew threw down his phone, and cradled Will in his arms. “You don’t have to kill yourself,” He cried, grabbing Will so tightly that the older man was starting to become faint again. “He’s still out there, he’s alive. We’ll find him one day, I promise. But don’t leave me here alone.”

Tears welled up in Will’s eyes. “I can still feel him. He’s everywhere and nowhere. He’s in my head.” Will sobbed into Matthew’s shoulder.

Matthew grabbed Will’s face with both hands, and forced Will to look him in the eyes. “I don’t care if you still want him. I love you. I will always love you.”

“Then let me mark you as mine,” Will answered. It wasn’t what Matthew was hoping for in response but it was better than nothing at all.

“My body is all yours to do with as you please.” Matthew’s green eyes were so besotted with love that Will had to look away.

Will took Matthew’s left hand, and kissed the back of it. “‘Til death do us part.” Will whispered, taking Matthew’s ring finger, and biting down into the flesh as hard as he could. The pain radiated up his arm, Matthew flinched but didn’t move away.

“Now do the same to me,” He spoke, presenting Matthew with his left hand.

“Only if you promise me that you would never hurt yourself again.”

“I promise.”

Matthew hesitated for a moment but took Will’s ring finger, and created a matching pair.

After bandaging their wounds, and cleaning up the bathroom, Matthew slipped into the bed beside Will who was sleeping more peacefully than he had ever seen before. Matthew didn’t know if this meant they were friends, lovers or whatever the hell Will had in mind when he scarred them but he didn’t care. It meant Will was still here, with him — alive. Matthew held Will closer, putting a hand to the sleeping man’s heart, grateful he could still feel it beating.

[sweet-villain]

Lies~ Eddie Munson

Summary : There is no summary, I just wanted to cry

m-rae23 ~ palomam18 ~eddiesprincess86 ~figmentofquinn ~gloomybrieyxb ~hqtetsurou ~ theintimatewriter

Angst

The only sound that can be heard was the running of tap water as Eddie turned it on pretending to wash whatever dish was in the sink. He rather do that than face you as silent tears streams down your cheeks. His eyes bore into the white cup that had the water overflowing it.

" I just need to know if you ever felt something for me" you spoke through your tears as they ran down to your lips, the little gaps made his heart crack.

There is a lot to say but Eddie can't help it but swallow the lump on his throat as he looks away from you. He can't bare to look at you, to see your heat break in your eyes and it's all is fault.

He hasn't realized what he's done until it's too late, he knew from your confession that he was about to lose you. You were about to walk out of his life.

You had told him how you felt that feeling like this was driving you crazy and you saw how he was around Chrissy. It hurts so much that the boys from Hellfire had encouraged you to tell Eddie before it was too late.

Here you were standing there after you poured your heart out to him, how much he meant to you, how much you love him, how much he was worth it, how much he deserves your love and yet, you weren't the choice he wants.

" Why not me?" your lip quivered as you asked.

Eddie remained silent as he gripped the sink and closed his eyes. He never thought of you the way he thought of Chrissy. You were his best friend, always bringing him lunch, always looking after him, always making him laugh and everything else in between. He had noticed this is how you felt about him.

He was blind and he hurt you.

" ...Right..I'm not as pretty as Chrissy is...I'm not a cheerleader...I'm not as smart as her...I'm not Chrissy Cunningham..got it" your fist clenched at your side, it bothered you that he wouldn't even look at you. To look you in the eye.

" Look at me" you hissed. He flinched at your tone but doesn't budge from his spot by the sink.

" Look at me!" you yelled, nails digging in your palm with fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. He reaches out to turn off the tap water and hesitantly turns to face you. His mouth goes a jar seeing the fresh tears, the anger in your eyes, the hurt in them, the fist by your side and the shaking, your body was shaking.

" What did you expect from me Y/N?" was the first thing he says to you after you told him how you felt.

You took a step back staring at him in disbelief.

" I expected more from you"

" You always had a flair for dramatic" He shrugs as he looks at the floor of his trailer. There is a silence between the two of you and he knows his words cut deep in you. He is pushing you away and he knows he's hurting himself too, by doing this to you.

You chuckled getting his attention as he rose his head up, " fuck you! Fuck you for stomping on my heart, fuck you for being my friend, fuck you for letting me in, fuck you for giving me the time of day. I don't need, I don't need you Eddie Munson"

He body stiffed at you words. A knife going through his heart.

" It would be better if you stayed away from me" he mumbles as he turns, his shoes hitting the floor as he makes his way to his bedroom.

" Sometimes I wish I never met you" you tell him. He's by the door with his hand on the doorknob but he hears your word and hears as you slam the door of his trailer. He walks into his bedroom and his knees give out before he makes it to his bed as a sob escapes from him. His hands are in fist as he slams them on his bedroom floor with tears running down his cheeks.

The next time Eddie sees you is when your walking late into class with your book bag on your shoulder as you sit a few desks away from him.

" Miss L/N, nice of you to join us" you grumbled underneath your breath as you slump in your chair. But Eddie didn't miss the puff eyes and the way your hair covered your eyes mostly. It's been a few days since you confessed to him and he hasn't heard a word from you.

The class goes in a blur and before he even gets to look at you, you're walking away and out of class. He sees your hair as you walk through the crowd of students to get to your next class.

" You've really done it" a voice breaks him from looking for you and his eyes look down to meet Dustin.

" She's gone radio silent. Won't talk to any of us, not even Steve or Robin"

" She doesn't say anything about me?" he asks, a frown on his face.

He nods, " She does, her exact words are " I hate Eddie Munson. Fuck him"

Dustin leaves him without another word leaving the metal head to slouch his shoulders and hung his head.

What has he done?

[bookished]

“…” “i can explain” “what did you do to my kitchen?”

The aroma of burnt cookies filled the air as the sound of the smoke detector blared through the house.

"I can explain," said Hero, their voice shaky with panic.

Villain stepped into the kitchen and gasped at the sight before them. The counter was covered in flour, eggs were cracked all over the floor, and the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes. And the curtains were barely a piece of shed tapestry.

"What did you do to my kitchen?" Villain exclaimed.

"I was trying to bake you a surprise batch of cookies," Hero said, gesturing towards the blackened tray in the oven.

Villain shook their head in disbelief. "Hero, you can't even boil water without burning it. Why would you try to bake cookies?"

"I just wanted to do something nice for you," Hero said, looking sheepish.

Villain softened at the sight of their guilty expression. "Okay, I appreciate the effort. But next time, let's stick to ordering takeout, okay?"

Hero nodded eagerly. "Deal. And maybe we can just pretend this never happened?"

Villain grinned. "Nice try, Hero. But you're going to be making up for this mess for a while."

[aka-indulgence]

Overflow

(ehe…. vent fluff… prepare for Not Proper Writing I guess)

sads about stuff other people said that made (reader)’s brain go “aaaa” and Sans is there to tell you how much he means to him

—————

You were hoping Sans wasn’t paying attention to you haphazardly throwing together your (and his) dinner. It’s just some.. noodles and some onions… some instant broth… You dropped the knife and threw it to the sink with more force than necessary. You could almost, physically feel Sans turning his skull around to look at the kitchen.

“you ok in there?”

“Everything’s good!” You answered, also with more force than necessary. If he could see your smile you’d probably look kinda insane.

You make noodle soup with anxious energy. It felt like it took forever for the water to boil. You put the bowls on a tray and carry it out to the living room.

Sans looks at you expectantly (and with some worry) as you put it down on the table in front of you. The tray hits the table with a smack! sloshing the soup, which ended up on your hand. The burn from the boiling hot liquid was instant.

“Argh!!!” You exclaimed, running to back to the kitchen.

“shit, are you ok?” Sans’ brows are furrowed as he followed you to the sink.

“It’s fine! I’m sorry.” you quickly said, staring hard at your injured hand like it was the cause of all your problems.

It felt like you’ve been on a thin string all day. You had a stumble at work, and someone had made a comment on how clumsy you are. It… it wasn’t a lot. It’s not like you were outright bullied. But for some reason it stung somewhere in your chest and has been floating around your mind for the rest of the day. You felt stupid. The harder you tried to ‘get over it’ the more your brain just wanted to focus on it. And you felt even sillier, because it just made you want to cry more. And over what?

The tears were threatening to spill over your eyes as you held your breath, turning the faucet further. Maybe so the water would drown out the sounds of you sniffling.

Gently, a hand reaches beside you over your hand on the faucet, closing it. Sans takes a paper towel and dabs it around your wet hand, wiping it with… almost too softly. Somewhere at the back of your mind the memory of someone patching up your cuts as a child surfaces and your tears fall.

… Of course Sans is completely oblivious to your spiraling thoughts, and doesn’t know why you started to sob.

“… buttercup?” Sans frowned. “what’s… what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t say anything when you lean forward to hug him, hiding your face in the hood of his jacket. You stand there for a while, letting your shoulders shake.

After a while, you said “Sans…”

“yes?”

“Do you think I’m good enough?”

… Long pause.

…

“wh… what do you mean by that?”

“Adequate. Not stupid.” you answered bitterly.

Instantly, he holds your shoulders, his forehead against yours.

Gently, he prompted “where did you get the idea that you’re not?”

“…” You didn’t look at his eyelights. You’re too embarrassed.

“… ok, that doesn’t matter right now. but please don’t say that.” Sans plead. “because you have no idea how… how much you are,”

He mumbled for a bit before he added “how much of a treasure you are.”

Oh man. There goes your tears again.

“i… feel so lucky that you’d want to be with a lazy, ketchup-drinking skeleton like me,” he chuckled, corner of his grin lifting.

“Y… you’re smart and funny,” you said almost automatically, “… and handsome,”

His smile gets wider. “exactly why i feel so lucky. how can i have this… beautiful, wonderful human look at me and… and love me? (y/n). you’re more than enough. i don’t care whatever anyone says about you, how you got the idea that you might not be ‘good enough’- to me, you’re… you’re overflowing. you’re smart…. and you’re kind. more than i am. and i think that’s much more admirable.”

You rubbed your face, hiccuping a little.

“hey. you aren’t your mistakes. so let’s not pretend you are,” Sans eyed the knife in the sink, “you’re (y/n). and i’m the lucky monster who can call you my date. come eat with me?”

You’re thumbing the sleeve of your shirt when he asked.

“Only if we’re watching something funny. Or cute.”

“ok, animal videos…. like an old person?”

“Yep.”

He kissed your cheek and bridal carried you to the living room. Neither of you are bothered by the cool soup.

[kazuki86]

Hello everyone!

This my new kakayama fic. I wrote this to celebrate kakashi's birthday 😊

Hope you like it!

Happy reading!

And Happy birthday kakashi! 🥰

My Sweetest Birtday

For many people, birthday is a sweet, happy and special day. But not for Kakashi.

For Kakashi, his birthday, September 15, is a sad, bitter, even disgusting day.

It's sad, because on his 10th birthday, the only person he really loved, his mother, left him forever, after two weeks of being hospitalized.

Bitter, because his father was never present on his birthday because he was always busy working and only sent gifts. Even on his 10th birthday when his mother died, his father was also absent, again and again because of business matters abroad.

And it's disgusting, because a few days ago, his father suddenly said he would hold a celebration for his birthday. Not an ordinary celebration at home, but a private party at a luxury restaurant. Business partners, government officials, celebrities, and other wealthy families will come to the party.

When Kakashi asked his father why he was holding a party like that, his father answered "This year you are 21 years old. It's time for you to prepare to be my successor, to lead our company. After all, you just graduated from college with perfect grades, let's just say the party is also to celebrate your graduation..."

So, here he is tonight, in a private ballroom inside a fancy fine dining restaurant at Konoha. Standing with a luxurious black tuxido beside his father. Invitations began to arrive. As his father said, they were the upper class of society in Konoha, business partners, officials, celebrities, and a number of rich families. Kakashi could see the faces of those who pretended to be sweet and friendly just to get connections and profits from the Hatake Corp (the largest construction company in Konoha).

"Go meet them!" Sakomo said.

"Not interested..." Kakashi answered lazily.

"Don't be childish, Kakashi. This is an important moment..." said Sakomo.

"Important for you, dad. Not for me..." answered Kakashi.

"This is important for our family!" Sakomo said in a firm tone. "There are some important people here. You have to start getting to know them and start building relationships. This is to maintain the stability of our family business in the future."

Kakashi began to feel emotions rumbling in his chest. The feelings of dislike for his father that he had been harboring for so long almost overflowed. If it weren't for his mother's last message before she died to look after his father, he would have vented all his emotions in front of his father.

"Beside..." apparently his father hadn't finished speaking. "Look...some important people came with their daughters. They look beautiful, right? And must be highly educated. Maybe you can choose one of them...dating one of them...or marrying one of them. That's also good for the future of our family business..."

Brakkk!

Kakashi placed his glass hard on the table next to him, startling Sakumo. "Excuse me, dad..." He left the room leaving his father and everyone at the party.

Kakashi rushed into the toilet. Both hands tightly gripped the edge of the sink. His breathing was irregular. His chest was tight. Maybe this was because all the emotions he had been holding back towards his father were on the verge of exploding. But he couldn't possibly express it in the party room.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Kakashi was surprised. He thought there was no one else in the toilet besides him. He turned to the person. A guy, wearing a white hat and turquoise jacket and navy jeans.

"Do you need some help, sir? Should I call someone for you? Or an ambulance?" Asked the guy.

Kakashi didn't answer, his breathing was still uneven.

"Sir?" Asked the guy again.

"No...I'm fine..." Kakashi answered breathlessly.

"Are you sure, sir? But you look unwell, is there anything I can do for you?" Asked the guy, sounds worried. "How about you sit down and catch your breath?"

Kakashi nodded.

"Let me help you..." said the guy. He helped Kakashi sit on the floor, leaned him against the wall, then straightened Kakashi's legs.

"I am sorry sir...but you need to open your mask and loosen your collar so you can breathe better..."

Kakashi did what the guy said, he opened his mask and opened two buttons on his shirt...

"Now breathe slowly, sir...

Kakashi breathed slower and calmer...

"Here, sir. It's new. Drink it..." the guy took a bottle of mineral water from his backpack, opened the lid, and gave it to Kakashi. Kakashi accepted and took a few sips.

"Better?" Asked the guy. Kakashi nodded. The guy smiled in relief.

"Thanks..."

"No problem, sir..."

"Just kakashi, please...I am not that old..."

"Oh...alright, kakashi..." the guy chuckled. "I am Tenzo..."

"Ten-zo..." kakashi repeats it. "Nice name..."

"Thanks. Kakashi isn't bad too..."

Kakashi laughed small.

"If you're already better, I think I can go now..."

"Wait! Tenzo...Could you...do me favor?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I need to get out of here..."

"You want me to help you walk to the front door?"

"No. I mean I need to go out from here through the other door...not the front..."

Tenzo looks confused.

"I don't want anyone to see me go out of this place..." added Kakashi.

"Have you done something bad?" Tenzo looked hesitant.

"No...no...honestly I should go back to the party up the stairs. But I really don't want to go back there. If anyone sees me, I'm sure they will drug me back to the party... "

"Oh...umm...honestly I still don't understand, but yeah I think I can help you..."

"Really?"

Tenzo nodded. He then took off his hat. Immediately, her long brunet hair fell down to her shoulders. He smoothed his bangs. Kakashi didn't expect Tenzo to have long hair, bangs, and when combined with his dark and wide eyes, Tenzo looked...pretty.

"Wear this..." said Tenzo while giving him his hat.

"What?"

"You need to get out of here without anyone noticing you, right?"

Kakashi nodded.

"Then wear this hat. Take off your tux and wear my jacket. Also wear your back mask. We will go out from here through the back door at the kitchen. Come on!"

Kakashi did as Tenzo asked. Then Tenzo leads their way to the kitchen. There are several chefs and cooks who look busy with their jobs. Kakashi worried that one of them would notice him, but luckily they just focused on their jobs. Sure they have to focus, because there is a luxury party upstair.

Now both of them are outside the restaurant.

"Finally we are outside..." said Tenzo relieved.

Kakashi thinks that sooner or later his father will realize that his son isn't around and will order his guards to look for him.

"Umm...Tenzo..."

"Yes?"

"What will you do now?"

"What will I do now? Um...I will meet some friends.. Why?"

"Can I go with you?"

Tenzo looks shocked and confused.

"You want to go with me????"

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to be rude or bother you...I just don't know where to go now..."

Tenzo sighed "Alright....you can go with me..." Then they walked side by side.

"So, Kakashi...."

"Hmm?"

"May I ask some questions?"

"Sure..."

"You said that you can't go back to the party in the restaurant? What party is it?"

"My birthday party."

"What??? Are you serious???

"I am..."

"But, how come you don't join your OWN birthday party????"

Kakashi sighed "I don't like being there...."

"But the people there will be confused because you are not there, right?"

"Yeah....my father would be the one who most confused there..."

"Unbelivable..." Tenzo shook his head.

"Don't worry, Tenzo. How about you? Why did you come to the restaurant?"

"Oh...I delivered some ingredients there. I work at Ichiraku Bakery. We sell breads and the ingredients too. I deliver some ingredients to the restaurant every Sunday. Today is not Sunday of course, but the restaurant said that they need more ingredients because there will be a special event there. Now I guest the special event is your birthday party..." Tenzo smiled.

"I see..." Kakashi smiled back.

A few moment later, they arrived at a bridge. Tenzo went down the small stairs that led under the bridge.

"Are your friends..here?" Kakashi followed Tenzo down the stairs.

"They are. They live here..." answered Tenzo

"But...this is under the bridge. I don't know there are people who live under the bridge..."

"Yeah...they actually don't want to live here too, but they have no choice. They don't have money to rent or buy a house. They don't even have enough money to eat or go to school..."

"Really?" Kakashi was truly shocked. All this time he did not know that there were people so poor in his city.

"But...they are good people...you will like them..." said Tenzo smiling.

They finally reached the bottom of the bridge. Kakashi was surprised. Apparently it was true, there were a number of people under the bridge. There were several children and adults. They were surrounding a fireplace made from used barrels to warm themselves. Suddenly a child turned and shouted "It's Tenzo. Tenzo is coming!"

Suddenly everyone turned around. Then the children ran over to Tenzo. Tenzo knelt down to greet them with a hug.

"We've been waiting for you for a long time, why did you come late?" Said a boy with yellow hair.

"I'm sorry Naruto....." said Tenzo while laughing and stroking the boy's yellow hair.

"Hey Tenzo...is that your boyfriend?" Asked a girl with pink hair shyly.

"What?" Tenzo turned to Kakashi. "No, Sakura..." Tenzo smiled. "He is my friend. His name is kakashi. Say hello to him, guys!"

"Good afternoon, sir!" Said the kids.

"Oh...good afternoon. Don't call me sir, just kakashi please..." said Kakashi.

"You are so handsome, kakashi..." said a girl with blonde long hair.

"Am I?" Kakashi blushed and rubbed his neck ackwardly. Tenzo chuckled.

"Stop teasing him, ino..." said a boy with black hair tied up.

"I'm not teasing him, Shikamaru!" Ino hit Shikamaru's head.

Tenzo laughed then said to Kakashi "Lets meet the others!"

"Tenzo...." said an old woman.

"Grandma Chio..." Said Tenzo.

"Finally, you come here with your boyfriend?"

"No grandma chio. He is my friend. His name is kakashi. We just met an hour ago..."

"Oh...nice to meet you, kakashi."

"Nice to meet you too, grandma chio" nodded.

"But you two look really good together. You know that there is love at first sight, right?" Said Jirayya pretending thinking.

"Stop teasing them, Jirayya. Their faces are already blushing like tomatoes..." said Grandma Chio. Jirayya and the others laughed.

Suddenly Tenzo felt someone squish his hand. "Umm...do you bring some food, Tenzo? We are hungry...." Asked a fat boy.

"Oh, of course Choji..." Tenzo smiled as he stroked the fat boy's brown hair, then took something from his backpack. A box. Tenzo opened the box and immediately the fragrant smell of cake spread. Kakashi was surprised, that smell, that sweet smell recalled a memory in his mind.

"Smells so goooood!" Said the kids.

Tenzo chukled then distributed the dorayaki to everyone. "Eat while it's still warm..."

Each of them took the dorayaki happily and ate it with gusto. Tenzo smiled happily.

After everyone got dorayaki, Tenzo invited Kakashi to sit in a corner not far from the fireplace.

"I'm sorry kakashi, they always tease me about boyfriend things every time I come here..."

"You don't have boyfriend?"

"No..."

"Then I'm honoured..."

"What?" Tenzo blushed.

"Just kidding..." Kakashi chukled.

"There are still two dorayaki. The owner of Ichiraku let me practice making cakes or bread after my work is finished. Take one!" Tenzo handed his dorayaki box to Kakashi.

"Um...I don't like sweets..."

"It's not too sweet. Eat it, while it's still warm..." said Tenzo smiling.

Kakashi took one dorayaki, looked at it for a moment, then bit into it slowly. Suddenly his chest felt tight. The memories came back to his mind. The taste of the dorayaki was exactly the same as what his mother had made. It was Kakashi's fifth birthday. He fell from the bicycle. His knees and elbows were injured. Kakashi cried. His mother immediately came and hugged him, then treated his wound. After that, his mother made dorayaki for him so that he wouldn't be sad anymore.

"Do you know, Kakashi? The sweet taste can cure the sadness we are feeling..." said Tenzo while looking at the Dorayaki he was holding and then eating it.

Exactly. That sentence was also what his mother said at that time. So Kakashi was no longer able to contain his feelings. A tear started to fall.

"Kakashi...you cry? Is the dorayaki not delicious? Did I say something wrong?"

Kakashi shook his head. Another tear dripped again

"Kakashi...you cry? Is the dorayaki not delicious? Did I say something wrong?"

"It's alright tenzo. You did no wrong. I...don't hate sweet, I just feel that sweet taste always remains me about my mom. She also made me a dorayaki like this at my fifth birthday. At that time I cried because I fell from bicycle. She passed away when I was ten. I missed her so much..."

"I'm really sorry, Kakashi...."

"It's alright..." Kakashi smiled.

They were silent for a moment.

"She must be a wonderful mom..." said Tenzo

"She is..." answered kakashi.

"You're so lucky, kakashi...."

Remembering how stressed he had been living with his father, Kakashi answered "I don't think so..."

"Yes you are. I never knew my mom...and my dad. Someone just put me in front of an orphanage shortly after I was born. I grew up there along with other orphans. Until last year I decided to got out of the orphanage and started living independently. Likewise with the children here, Some of them don't have mothers, some of them don't have fathers, and some others don't have both. Sometimes they don't eat because they have no money. They have never been to school too. I wish I had a lot of money, so I could help them more..."

Tenzo's gaze wandered, while Kakashi looked at Tenzo.

Then the kids approached Tenzo and Kakashi. "Tenzo, we've finished eating. Now is bedtime story!" said the yellow-haired child.

"Hmmm...how about we ask our guess to tell a bed time story for us tonight?" Tenzo said while smiling at Kakashi.

"What??? Me???"

"Yeah...that's a good idea!" Said the kids.

"Wait wait...I can't....I don't have any story...."

"Said the magic word..." Tenzo whispered to the kids.

"Pleaaaaaseeeee..." said the kids while clasping their hands together.

Tenzo chuckled.

Kakasho sighed...."Alright....alright...let me think a story first..."

The children cheered happily. They immediately sat close together, some also sat on Tenzo and Kakashi's laps.

Kakashi tried hard to remember any bed time stories his mother had told him before, then started telling the children. They liked it so much, they even clapped happily when the hero in Kakashi's story succeeded in defeating the dragon monster, and saved a beautiful princess and the entire village.

Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief after finishing his story. Tenzo smiled.

"What a wonderful bedtime story! Now, how about we sing a birthday song to Kakashi as a thank you? because today is his birthday.." Tenzo said to the kids.

The children nodded in agreement. Tenzo and the kids started singing "Happy birthday to you..." while clapping their hands. Grandma Chio, Jirayya, and the others also sang.

Kakashi was so surprised. He didn't expect that today his birthday would be celebrated in that way. He felt...so happy.

After finishing the song, Tenzo hugged and kissed each child while saying good night and have a sweet dream. Then Tenzo and Kakashi returned to the bridge.

"I will go home now. I live in an apartment over there..." said Tenzo.

Kakashi nodded. "I'll go home to, I live there near the restaurant.."

"I see. Oh...I almost forgot...here's your tux..." said Tenzo while taking Kakashi's tuxido from his backpack.

"Oh...you're right...here your hat and jacket..." Kakashi took off his hat and jacket then returned them to Tenzo. "Thanks a lot for tonight, Tenzo...I'm really sorry for bothering you..."

"No, it's fine. I feel so happy tonight..."

"Me too...this is the sweetest birthday party I've ever had..."

"Really? Glad to hear that. Happy birthday kakashi..." Tenzo smiled softly.

Kakashi felt his chicks get warmed and blushed. He cleared his throat "Thanks..."

"Okay...See you later, Kakashi!" Tenzo turned and walked home.

"See you...soon, Tenzo." Kakashi also turned around and walked towards his house. He didn't know for sure whether the party at the restaurant was over or not, but he was sure that his father would be furious. But, it doesn't matter. Surely his father's anger would subside if Kakashi said that he was ready to become his father's successor in running their big company. Because now, he already has a goal. Just like what Tenzo said earlier, he is lucky because he has a lot of money, and with that lot of money generated by his company he will help many poor people and orphans, together....with Tenzo.

@kakashiweek

[asoeiki]

Fav Excerpts (FFXV fanfics AO3)

I just wanted to share with everyone some of my favourite passages from the fanfics that I had read, I had more actually but I managed to narrow down some of these that I thought was pretty neat with the way they write the scenes! Writers, ya'll are amazing with the way you write stuff, blows my mind every time TwT!

Out Here with the Daemons by Lagerstatte (Graphic violence)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11188884

It’s the worst barricade in the world. Bullets will punch right through it, Prompto has time to think. It never occurred to him before that this is how he’d end up dying. He doesn’t want to die. Does he want it less than he wants to kill people? Surely there’s another way out. He’s still trembling.

‘Don’t look,’ Ignis says, very softly, before leaving them there.

Noct grips Prompto’s arm, tight enough to hurt.

Prompto has a split-second to realise that even if he doesn’t look around the table, he can still see in the room’s reflection in the window.

He’s just in time to see the first of Ignis’ knives leave his hand and slice open a man’s throat. The flesh splits open neatly and blood sprays out; Prompto’s eyes snap shut. It doesn’t block the bubbling sound of wet gagging, somehow audible over the screams, shouting, and gunfire. Prompto hears something like that one time he’d blocked the kitchen sink and let it overflow, and it takes a few seconds to realise it’s not water he’s hearing splattering onto the wood flooring.

For Hearth and Home (Incomplete) by Viviena

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954894/chapters/21589655#workskin

“I was planning to go back because I was no longer needed here. Thanks to you it’s all mute point now. I have my new goals and you can bet I’m not letting you get anywhere near them.”

“And by those you mean…”

Nyx hesitated for a moment but it was so obvious, there was no point in pretending it to be a secret.

“Protecting lady Lunafreya and king Noctis.”

“Of course,” Drautos asserted slowly and looked to the side, seemingly deep in thought. He nodded slightly to himself and looked back up with clearly contemplating expression.

Nyx pointed a finger at him.

“No.”

Commander Drautos seemed completely unfazed by it. So Nyx repeated with more intent.

"No!"

That got him an exasperated eye roll.

First Bloom by Sekiei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951613

During the next four months, they renovate the house, change every piece of wood. They raise the floor a couple of feet off the ground, double the walls and insulate them with earth and dry vegetation, pierce a few more windows. By the time they’re done, the cabin looks like a house, small and amateurish, but a house not a shack. They even have steps leading to the front door that Gladiolus is unreasonably proud of and Ebony loves to lounge on.

They kept the house the same size. One room. The kitchen left of the entrance, a couple of armchairs and a new plush carpet to the right in front of the fireplace. They could have made it bigger, but they didn’t. Gladiolus likes what they’ve found. It’s enough. After all they’ve been through, they’re not greedy; having a peaceful place to call their own is enough. He suspects Ignis feels the same way, but he doesn’t ask.

They eat the occasional fish and dry, thin bread Ignis makes with water and the powdered white flesh of roots he has an uncanny sense for finding deep in the ground even in the middle of the ghost forest. Gladiolus wonders how he learnt this, what happened to him all those years they were apart. Gladio mostly protected civilians and their settlements, ate cans of beans well past their sell-by date, dusty noodles on good days; on special occasions, chocobo greens and mushrooms grown under electrical floodlights. But the few times he saw Ignis, he was always out and about hunting, more often than not on his own. He hadn’t thought about what he had to do, to learn, in order to survive that lifestyle back then. But he doesn’t ask this either. There are topics that are best left alone.

Preventing General Glauca (Incomplete) by MeinNameIstJette

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147616/chapters/46799737

Titus stands near the edge of the dock, certain now, that he wasn’t going to make it out alive. There were too many enemies to cut down and he was on his very last leg of energy. If lucky, he’d cut down two maybe three, but that would be the end. He doesn’t want the defeat to show on his face but he’s sure that his stance is evidence enough to the Niffs that they had this in the bag.

That is.

Until Titus can feel a shift in the wind. He swallows, rather tries to swallow even though he’s parched, and straightens, as best as he can. He can hear something. He’s not sure what it is but it’s a faint and distinct sound. A part of him feels as if that’s the sound of death but then the unthinkable occurs.

The whistling becomes louder, distracting the enemy even as weapons rip through them almost as if they were made out of paper. Titus’ stance falters as he watches something unbelievable occur before his eyes. He doesn’t recognize any of these weapons and he certainly knows of no one in Sennheim who is able to do this and yet it is happening.

Knife Skills by SensationalSunburst (Graphic violence)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983987/chapters/24461079

The cashier stood, glancing down the aisle at them, expression twisted into something between annoyed and concerned.

“Glad-” Ignis began, one hand reaching out blindly to grab the shield’s attention, but everything promptly exploded into the sound of shattering glass and gunfire. The van had violently reversed into the parking lot, the back doors flying open and a hail of gunfire sent the cashier crashing to the floor behind the counter. A man dressed all in black flew from the back of the van, rushed through the shot out door and began firing the second his boots hit the earth. Ignis snatched Noctis on instinct and spun to hurl him to the ground behind him as bullets riddled the display he’d just been looking at. He followed Noctis down, cushioning his head before it could bounce against the linoleum and muffling the startled cry that tore itself from Noct's lips. The gunfire that had followed them down the aisle ceased, and Ignis was immediately on his feet. Gladio had already grabbed Noctis, who was clawing against the iron bar of his arm across his chest to grab at Ignis.

“Ignis, stay down!” Gladio snarled.

“Iggy! Ignis!” Noctis pleaded, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Come back!”

“Ignis, dammit!” Gladio shifted as if to get up and Ignis turned on him with a snarl.

“Sword,” He snapped, pointing a blessedly steady finger roughly at himself then Gladio, “Shield. Do you duty and get him out of here.”  Ignis turned his back as Noctis’s shouting went up in pitch. He felt the telltale tug of magic in chest as Gladio pulled a shield from the armiger and took a single, calming breath.

Unlike Gladio, who would reach into that strange, supernatural space between worlds as easy as breathing, Ignis hadn’t been able to pull weapons from the armiger outside of training. For him, it took minutes of strenuous, sometimes painful, meditation before he could pull a blade from the armory. He could hold it in his palm just long enough to recognize the intricate patterns etched into the handles before the connection was lost; the snapback of magic enough to knock his balance loose and sending him stumbling to the mats.

But as he drew himself up in the bullet ridden remains of the store, fueled by magma scorching its way through his veins, he felt his rage solidify against his palms. The dagger sailed from his hand and thunked solidly into the shoulder of the would-be-assassin, it was off target, but the second struck true, cutting off the scream as the blade lodged itself in his heart.

Road Trip - Shattered by Sekiei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848198

The first few days after he’d been injured, Ignis had kept it together when talking to Noct, but had been almost shell-shocked when it’d come to moving around. Gladiolus had been shadowing his every step then, a hand to the small of his back, to support and to guide him. He had been careful, considerate. Focusing on Ignis had helped him overcome the maelstrom of emotions and pain in his mind. For a time. But less than a week had passed before Ignis’d asked for a cane and made clear that he would ask to hold onto one of them if he wanted guidance, but he refused to be lead around any longer. He would decide for himself when and who to follow and just how far. In a way, seeing that fiery independence survive the ordeal had been a blessing. Ignis was hurt but he wasn’t broken. Yet, silently and despite being aware of his own selfishness, Gladiolus had wished he could have been relied on a while longer.

Ignis’ hand closed around his elbow with a natural that hurt him. It had only been three weeks. This shouldn’t have been so easy for them, so rehearsed. Gladiolus dropped words then and there, on their way to the end of the platform, at first to guide, then just to fill the silence. Stairs, three steps. The rails are on our right, two and half meters away. It’s a pretty steep drop, don’t go close. Have they told you… there’re mountains all around us, most are bare sand and rock, but there’s snow in the distance. It’s glowing through the nightfall. He was babbling but it kept his mind off what was coming.

He stopped far enough down the platform that they were out of earshot but still within the safety of the lights and turned towards Ignis. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath, trying for a composure he already knew he wouldn’t be able to sustain. Ignis seemed content to wait for him to talk, a sure sign that the argument was unavoidable.

‘Look, if you’re going to run through your tirade from the mine again save your breath. I get it. His Highness can do no wrong and he needs to be coddled to greatness. I just hope you’re volunteering for the job because I won’t be bowing to his whims any longer. I’ll respect my King when he starts behaving like a king and he needed to know that. Also I think you coming to Gralea with us is a stupid idea and you won’t change my mind on that one either.’ ‘Anything else?’ ‘Depends on what you say next. I am in no mood for a lecture, not even from you.’ ‘Could have fooled me.’ ‘Bite me. Are we done?’ ‘Oh, I haven’t even started. I’ve listened to you, now kindly shut up and give me the same courtesy.’

Carry Me Back Home by Moon_Raccoon_exe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947106

I bawled my eyes out again when I read this fic = w=;

And there you lie, my dear soul, on gladioli and irises, and a few sylleblossoms, on the altar of the temple for everyone to admire and bid goodbye before cremation.

It is a Lucian tradition, unlike Niflheim; we incinerate as the usual method and we bury as the unusual one. Our ashes ascend to the skies and it frees our souls from the body, and the smoke helps them to become ethereal and cross to the other side and the whatever exists after death. I do have to admit that, as much as I believed it a beautifully tragic process, only now I feel a little sad in a fully egocentric way that I will have no physical something to cry to, other than a golden plate with your name on it. A plate I can’t even see, with letters I can’t even read.

long way home by ninemoons42

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403639/chapters/33263658

The cat is not a threat. He tells himself that. The cat is not a bomb and not an enemy and not a threat.

But those claws are real, and he’ll end up needing to mend his clothes, if Noct keeps going.

He’s loathe to push Noct’s presence away and that leaves him with only one thing to do -- the unlikely thing to do.

He passes a hand over Noct’s head, down that powerful curve of backbone, all the way to the twitching tail, and asks, “What do you want from me?”

In response -- the cat kicks him, lightly, with its powerful hind legs -- kicks him and then leaps, and the force of that leap is more than enough to take it across the room. Noct is now standing right opposite the window.

And Noct meows, once.

There’s something oddly compelling about that sound that he doesn’t often hear out of his cat, anyway: Noct prefers to communicate in pointed looks, in the flick of tail, in the twitch of ears.

The ears that twitch at him now, oversized triangles that are still startlingly soft to the touch, twitching and twitching as he pulls on the previous day’s shirt and trousers and shoes.

At the last moment, he huddles into his oldest coat -- strange to find it still in the depths of his closet, still hanging neat and pristine from clothespins and a sturdy hanger. The coat is his last reminder of the ceremonial of the military, the rites and the parades and the inspections. Ghostly shapes on collar and sleeve, where his rank insignia and unit patches used to be, and the outlines are all that’s left. The coat is made of thick black material, mostly water-repellent. Silver-braid edges and trim, and domed buttons to match, scuffed now, but still anchored down the torso in parallel lines, framing the center closure and its hidden clasps.

[solarishashernoseinabook]

Google Translate Writes: Gilan the Pie Thief

Hey all, it's April Fool's Day! You know what that means: time for the third annual "Google Translate Writes"! For those who haven't read these before, every year I take a light-hearted oneshot of mine and put it through ten layers of Google Translate, then post the result here on Tumblr. This year I chose a little ficlet I wrote for the Trick or Treat Fic Fest, which I've abruptly decided to title Gilan the Pie Thief. Read it at the link - then look below to see how my ficlet survived being translated into Basque, Arabic, Sindhi, Samoan, Punjabi, Serbian, Gujarati, Malagasy, Romanian, and Uyghur!

~

Steal the cello cake

Are you sure this is an official test? Glenn said worriedly.

Can I give it to you if you don't? Stop it, he said.

Maybe? Galen raised an eyebrow in disappointment.

Gillan passed his second exam at Union and officially entered his third year of study. Crowley was noted for his extraordinary talent for magical work. Gillen makes the mistake of bragging to Holt, and Holt rolls his eyes in response. “Yes,” said he, “if you really have faith, I'll give you a real test of your skill: if you don't have a lot of trees, you won't be able to see the trees that stand in your way. . ". . .

Impossible! Galen tries to argue, but Holt won't listen to him, while Redmont Holt demonstrates his ability to remain unnoticed in a dark corner of Baron Erold's meeting. He and Gilan put the lid on. Let's take a look. Holt spent the next few weeks quietly learning how to manage crowds. Finally, yesterday, Holt announced that he was ready for his first test, and Gillen agreed.

But seeing the entire kitchen now, the Sri Lankan didn't think it was possible. He was at the reception of Mr. Chubba and did not want to repeat the incident.

Before that, whip up a plate of delicious cake. Then Holt came looking for them, and the sweet smell and air filled Gillan's mouth. It was cold for a long time, it's not hot anymore, but it might be hot now. Very pleased to attend.

A desire to escape the wrath of Siri. Chub is overflowing.

Gillan went to the kitchen and cleaned the house for a while. Until Holt started studying on her own, Gillan thought people were chaotic, but somewhere along the way she realized people were acting in a peaceful way. Everyone had a job in such a big kitchen and everything they did was for the joy of that job. Once she learns how to act, she sticks to the pattern and pretends to be a boy in the kitchen. It's like you're in one place and half the work is done for you.

Sri Lankans know how lucky they are when they pick up the trash from the table. Play it safe, pick up the pot and move it to some containers around the house. The sink was cooling down on the other side of the room, but it was a start.

Next to the cake was another bar of soap. Gillan took a bar of soap from the container and set it aside, then grabbed a wet washcloth and turned to the door. He sat at the table and looked around the room. Not seeing any sign of Mr. Chubb, Gillan took the opportunity to go around to the table and grab a cookie.

A piece of wood fell into his hand and Galen touched it. He looked at the gentleman's round face. Bitter, red. "I thought I could take my magic from the kitchen, Ranger?"

"I…well, it…" Gillan said.

"I thought you wouldn't notice, did you?"

I… look, stop…

Think what he'll say when I tell him! Fortunately, I have a lot to do now. Just because you crash doesn't mean you're gone, right?

Yes, sir!

Mr. Chubb Gillan bit his fingernails. The door opened and Glenn saw that Glenn was no where to hide for this short trip. He looked at the bread pan and couldn't help but smile.

There are five cookies missing.

He met Gillan again and got rid of Mr. Glenn Glenn opened his mouth to speak, but Hal nodded and Abelard continued. Galen punched Blaze in the nose, then picked him up and went home with Holt. They brought the horse there and strengthened it.

"So," Galen said when I finally put down my coffee, "you want to distract me?"

He said no.

"It's funny, when Chubb met me, I could have sworn I left," Gillen said.

"We saw an opportunity and we took it," Holt said. "It's not something you need to worry about." So, grab a coffee and do your work over there. Finally, you did well.

Glenn smiled as Holt placed the bag on the table and held it out. Four unique and delicious cakes. "Two for each of us."

Glenn closed his eyes. "I could have sworn there were five bears."

He looked into her eyes. - I brought you four loaves of bread.

"Yeah," Glenn said quietly. He brought us four loaves of bread.'

"Right," said Holt.

Jaylan smiled after a moment.

He pointed to the muffins. - Eat, not hot.

[afellow-simp]

“It’s the end of the line Ms.” A hoarse, but somehow still soothing, voice yelled out. I had almost forgotten that I’d been on the bus. “Back door, please.” The air outside is cold and frosty; snowflakes almost feel like a knife cutting into the pores of my skin. A thick untouched blanket of snow coated the streets, only thing lighting them up was the dim hue coming from the streetlights. Some were flickering, others were strong and bright. It was beautiful, the languidness of it all. The blue from the sky and the yellow lights blur together and contrast with elegance. The walk will surely be a long one but I don’t mind. I enjoy the quiet haze the night brings.

It’s only when I got into my apartment and closed the door behind me that I remember the severity of the pain my monsters could truly bring me. Their inky forms always rearing their ugly heads in those brief seconds when the door shuts and I’m left alone. The reality of the world seeping in my skin and the feeling of truly being alone steals the air from my lungs. Their clawed fingers ripping it out of me and they leave me gasping like a man drawn at sea. Those few seconds plead for my surrender. To let it consume me. Sometimes I swear I hear voices whispering the sooner that I give into them, the sooner the pain will end. The sooner everything will be lifted off my shoulders and I’ll be okay.

It’s suffocating, the shadows constantly sweeping away the space around me. Leaving me to curl into a ball in hopes to get away. At times even the outside seems murky. I’d watch as the once vibrant colors in the world turn muted. Growing darker and darker and sometimes I wonder if the sun was even shining on me at all. Sometimes the thought of getting help would cross my mind. To tell someone of the pain I held inside. Held so deep but still almost overflowing. I desperately want someone who I could be myself around. Someone who could love me. Who could love all of me. But I can only hope. Hope that anxiety will leave me and I can talk about these things.

How is it that I can care about nothing but everything at the same time? How can depression and anxiety mix into one thing? Two things that could be considered complete opposites mixing into one mind bustling and sucking the life out of someone. There are days where I don’t eat, not having the energy nor mindset to make anything. Over the years my body turned frail. I’d say I had gotten unusually pale compared to my oh so vibrant peers. They’re skin glowed like they were rubbing in the fact they had what I always wanted. I wonder if they are really as stupidly oblivious as they seem or if they really couldn’t see. Maybe they did know but didn’t want to deal with it. It’s sickening but I can’t blame them. I mean, I’m just as bad as them. At least they don’t pretend to care. At least they don’t pull people into a false sense of security just because they want to seem normal, to be normal. If they were to put their effort into my feelings they would just come out stained. Perhaps my dirtiness will infect them. And I don’t even have the guts anyway, not to trust someone enough to let them because the chance of them leaving is too high. If they leave it’ll just be worse so I’ll act. I’ve been doing it for so long. What's the harm in a few more years?

I don’t remember taking off my shoes but I feel the cold under my feet. The rest of my body feels numb if it weren’t for the coolness of the soles of my feet I would have thought I was floating. I navigate through the darkness of my apartment, passing the back of my couch and stumbling into the kitchen. There’s only a dim light illuminating from the window that is placed to the left of the kitchen sink. I always wondered why there would be a sink so oddly placed and especially in an apartment that wasn’t the ground floor. But that’s the owner of the building and the architect's problem. The inside of my body seems to be more awake than the outside when I take a sip of the cold water from my glass. The piercing liquid slides down my throat with tranquility washing over the walls of my stomach with coolness. Walking into my bedroom I fall onto the chill fluffy blankets. They bounce and fall hugging my body, almost sucking me into the slumber I needed. All of the tension that I once held in my back released and sigh with every pop. I wish I could just sleep now but I need to start putting effort into my appearance.

Shambling into the bathroom I place myself in front of the sink looking into the mirror. Was my hair falling out? Patches of balding skin sit on my skull like it only grew in thin strands. I open my mouth in confusion for a split moment and a few teeth fall out in the sink. Nails that I was sure were there looked different now. Some were hanging off and some were gone completely leaving smooth skin under. In the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a boney figure who looked as if they were wearing my missing body parts. I shot my head towards the thing but it was gone. I look back at myself in the mirror taking a closer look at my teeth; licking at the empty space that resided between others. Rubbing the soft skin of my nail beds and running my fingers through the thin strands and patches of hair I had left. I know the thing is still watching my every move but I’m too captivated in my own appearance to care. Had I always looked like this? Did everyone notice and just decided not to make an effort to inform me? To leave me walking around like this, deteriorating.

I don’t know when I had gotten to my bed but I woke up suddenly. The room is chilly and unbearably still and I can’t move. My limbs feel like they are filled with lead and falling in the depths of the ocean. And that thing, that thing is at my feet. I can see now it’s ugly face with the patches of my hair sitting up top its head. Its eyes too big for its face. Its mouth holds not only my teeth but its own sharp jagged ones. It starts to crawl onto my bed and I can’t move. I can’t get away. I can see its face a little better now that it's on top of me and I see the curiosity in its eyes. It picks up one of my fingers and rips it off with a crack, attempting to replace theirs with mine. It takes one of my ears next, then my tongue. It keeps taking pieces of me, trying to wear me. When my eyes wander away from it I can see that it didn’t come alone. I want to cry for help. I should have cried for help.