#and he said ‘yeah why would you want anyone to know’ so. you know. no great friendship lost here lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f1boistrash · 1 day

Text

i have a name | l.s

a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister

summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much

Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'

But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.

Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.

The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.

"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.

"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.

"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.

You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."

Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.

You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.

It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.

"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.

"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.

"That bad huh?"

"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."

The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.

"You get used to it." You shrugged.

"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."

"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.

"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.

"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.

"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.

You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."

-x-

"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.

"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.

He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.

You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.

"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"

"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.

"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."

Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.

It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.

Y/N:

Thank you again for tonight.

His response was quick making your stomach flutter.

Logan:

You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N

Y/N:

I know

I enjoyed talking to you tonight

So thank you for your company 😊

Logan:

I enjoyed talking to you too 😊

I hope we can do it again some time

You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.

Y/N:

I would love to ☺️

Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙

Logan:

Good luck Y/N 😊

#logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1

168 notes · View notes

moonlightdancer26 · 2 days

Text

Hello, why do people who say Snape outed Remus out of spite still exist? I thought we all knew that it was because Remus quite literally endangered the lives of all the students, of Harry (who Snape literally swore to protect), of the staff, and of Severus himself.

If he truly wanted to out Remus out of spite, why couldn’t he have done it when he was a Death Eater and Remus was an Order Member, when Dumbledore no longer had any control over Snape’s actions and when he and Remus were on opposite sides of the war? Why couldn’t he have done it at any point throughout the year in PoA? Why did he only expose Remus after he found out that Remus endangered students’ lives by not only forgetting the complicated potion Snape took the time to brew for him, but by also purposefully holding back info that could’ve prevented Sirius Black (who everyone, including Remus, believed was a mass-murderer) from entering the castle and hurting/killing students? Do you believe that’s merely some coincidence?

Say whatever you want about Snape, but one thing about him is that he will NOT stand for anyone endangering the lives of his students, especially not Lily’s son. He priorities safety above all else. He may be an asshole to his students, but he’ll protect them with his life. The fact that he only outed Remus once he knew what Remus did should tell you enough, I don’t know why people choose to live in denial over this debate even though it’s practically spelled out to us in the text. It makes sense for a kid reading PoA to think “wow! Snape is so mean for that! How could he do that to Professor Lupin?!!” but for grown adults to still think this? It’s ridiculous.

And to the people who think “Oh yeah Snape totally outed Remus because he lost the chance of receiving an Order of Merlin,” did this part of The Prince’s Tale chapter completely fly over your heads:

There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, “Very well. Very well. But never — never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear . . . especially Potter’s son . . . I want your word!”

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist . . .”

This simply goes to show how little Snape antis actually understand Snape’s character. He wanted no one to know of the good things he’s done. He never did anything for positive attention or praise, and he certainly would not expose Remus out of pure spite of having lost his opportunity to win a stupid award.

#anti snaters #literally the whole point of snape’s redemption is that he wanted no one to know about it #what makes you think he did what he did to remus just for some award? lol #pro snape #severus snape #anti marauders fandom #anti marauders stans #anti marauderfen #anti remus lupin #this tag takes a year off my life every time i use it but wtv #pro severus snape #snape #harry potter #hp

134 notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 3 hours

Text

REFLECTED BLISS

When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here

“Oh my god.”

“What? What is it?”

“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”

He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”

“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”

His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”

“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.”

“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”

“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”

His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”

“What do you mean?”

His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”

He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”

Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”

“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.

Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.

He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.

“I guess that makes sense.”

His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”

“Perks, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”

“Is it working?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”

He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”

But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”

“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”

“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”

His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse.

“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”

You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”

His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.

“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.

He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”

He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.

“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”

He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”

You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.

“Convince me more.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt.

“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”

You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”

You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you.

"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"

Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.

"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"

More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.

His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.

"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?"

“It’s making my clothes disappear.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”

“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”

“I do love a good magic trick.”

You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.

“You’re… you’re pretty too.”

His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.

His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.

You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.

With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.

“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.”

Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.

His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own.

You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.

“Yes, baby?”

Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.

You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”

Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.

He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours.

Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”

You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.

“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”

You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.

The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.

“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."

Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.

"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."

Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”

“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.

"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.

"It intensifies, doesn't it?"

Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”

“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.

You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes.

You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.

“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”

You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.

“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”

You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot.

The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.

"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”

You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.

A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.

The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.

Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.

You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?"

"Definitely too much.”

"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.

He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”

"Getting there.”

You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”

You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.

"Almost. Still too much."

Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.

"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”

“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"

“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "But rest assured, all the attention is on you."

“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”

“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”

“Cockiness does not suit you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”

You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”

“Perfect.”

His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust.

You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.

"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.

You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.

Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.

“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”

Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.

“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”

Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.

“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”

Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”

The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.

You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge.

"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.

"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”

You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside… me.”

Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”

That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.

His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.

Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.

Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.

You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.

“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."

He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–You—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”

You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.

“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.

He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”

You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?

Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.

Maybe you should get one for your room.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

132 notes · View notes

badasbebi · 18 hours

Text

imagination's curse

navigation

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie.

"Awesome! Talk to you late, then." she smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and put your hood over your head, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms in close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your dorm, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this one. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones. You pay the driver, and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.

Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut

64 notes · View notes

csbnova · 2 days

Text

adore you ft. chigiri hyoma

tags: fluff, high school au, f. reader

notes: wc. 1.6K, supes cute imo, little reo cameo

synopsis: newfound crush is getting closer with you after a silly little question, what could possibly happen a few days after?

being sat next to chigiri hyoma is not for the weak. he’s always mumbling some snarky remark and somehow it’s always funny. to make matters worse he’s fine as hell. like—infuriatingly fine. what kind of dude has perfectly radiant skin? such cute lips? even that luscious hair of his?? it just doesn’t make sense.

it doesn’t help that now the two of you are friends. it started when he heard you giggle from him whispering about one of your classmates bad luck and he was absolutely enamored. not that you noticed though. you were too busy studying his silly smile when he realized he’d been heard.

for months your friendship had progressed, and you’d realized he was much more than a pretty face. he was kind, yet sarcastic. observant, yet oblivious. charming, yet absolutely horrid at flirting. and he was someone you’d grown to like.

…like a lot.

“hey, hyoma? do you think it’s weird for a girl to confess to a guy?”

it had been quiet. your head was on his lap while his fingers danced across your scalp, decorating your hair in pretty little flowers that complimented your skin very nicely. your fingers had been aggressively moving across the screen of your phone as you played a game despite your mind being elsewhere.

“how would that be weird? i think if a guy doesn’t like it then he’s a wimp and shouldn’t have a girlfriend in the first place.”

he’s raised his eyebrow and he’s still focused on your hair as the background fighting music for some stupid mobile game quietly plays from your phone. As you pause it, you sit up, putting your phone on the floor as you looked at him with curious eyes and a hint of blush resting on your cheeks.

“so, if a girl you liked confessed to you, would you mind?”

“you really think that matters? Y/n, you should know by now i don’t care for stuff like that. why are you even asking?”

there’s that stupidly adorable head tilt he does. his hand reaches to fix a flower that moved out of place but then he comfortingly pats your head instead.

with a sigh, your hands move back to grab your phone as you lay your head in his lap once more. “it’s nothing, just got curious. if you said no i would’ve eaten your shampoo or something.”

nearly a week has passed since you asked chigiri the confession question and nearly a week has passed since he’s been clingier than usual. he’s letting you(more like forcing you to) touch his hair more often than usual, he’s leaning on you more, and overall just by your side for as long as he can be.

“y/n, do you think you can come watch me practice today?” his heads resting on your shoulder and he’s watching as you gather material for your house in minecraft. currently, it’s the last period of the day but the teachers gone and the subs giving you guys a free day since there wasn’t any work given to him to hand out.

“hmm, yeah i’ll come today. any particular reason why you want me there?” your phones almost dead by now but since chigiri’s head was on your shoulder the motivation to move had been lost a long time ago. you press save and quit on your screen and then turn off your phone, placing it down before a hand of yours moves to ruffle chigiri’s hair. he doesn’t try to move, but instead smiles a little as his face warms. hyoma wasn’t the type to be very physical with anyone until he met you. to him, your touch was like a kiss of fire. it was comforting, yet it burned a little too good. and he didn’t even care he just wanted more of it.

“can’t i want to show off my skills a little?”

and there it is. that cute little eye roll he does. paired with the sarcastic smile? and the way he’s gazing up at you through his eyebrows? it’s a known fact that chigiri was a really pretty guy but my goodness there were no words to describe how much you adored the way he looked at you. or the way he made you giggle. which was what was happening right now. you were giggling and he was beginning to giggle too—just from the sound of your lavish laughter. the air surrounding the two of you was so endearing it’d made some of your classmates smile in adoration and others slump down at the feeling of loneliness.

“right, right, not like you show off during your games like alll the time.”

he sits up, with a shake of his head and adjusts his position, placing his elbow on the desk and a palm to his head. so he could look at you better.

“well, i am an egoist, it’s natural for me to show off, especially when you’re watching me.”

he looks so smug but in reality he’s actually so nervous and wondering why he said that but also what would you say? would you get mad? get shy? would you avoid eye contact? would you hit him? what would go through your mind? he wants to know.

well. you smiled. chuckled a bit and rolled your eyes. it didn’t take much for him to see the pink skittering across your cheeks and his entire world lit up right then and there. he opened his mouth to say something else but before he could, the bell rang, cutting him off and signaling that it was time for practice.

as the two of you walked, there was a comfortable silence. that warm bubble of air was still circulating the two of you—wrapping your cheeks in a rosy kiss, and his in the same. his hand had brushed against yours a few times but he made no comment on it, afraid of your reaction. you’d felt the same. conflicted with your feelings. you didn’t want to possibly lose his friendship, but the thought of becoming his lover just sound so wonderful. so as the two of you had reached the field, you sucked in a breath and grabbed his wrist. it was a light touch, your grip was loose, but to chigiri it felt like a phoenix had gripped onto him and commanded him to stop. it felt exhilarating and calming all at the same time. he bit back a smile and your eyes met once again.

“hyoma i- well uh…okay hold on gimme a sec.”

your heart was racing and at this point he could probably hear it too. that is, if his wasn’t racing just as fast and loud as yours. he nodded and watched you take a deep breath. this whole time he’d been quietly staring at you, hoping that what you’d asked last week was pertaining to you—that this was that moment you spoke of.

“um okay. you think- you think we can go out sometime? like not as a hangout like usual but as a date. i really, really like you, hyoma. a lot. and i don’t think i can handle being just friends anymore.”

there’s no tension in the air when you talk despite your nervousness, and he’s still smiling warmly—even starting to blush more than he already was. his eyes are enamored with the way you look asking him out and before he even knows it his hands are interlocked with yours and he’s nodding his head like a fool in love.

“how could i ever say no to you?”

that’s all he says before you let out a breath and a small laugh, giving a shake of your head. the relief hits you in a huge wave and you look back up at him with a vibrant smile decorating your lips.

“so, then, you wouldn’t mind a date after practice ends?”

your eyes are bright and your voice is sweetly soft as you speak, your fingers playing with his own.

“i mean, it’s not like i have to be here…”

he’s smiling. and he’s giddy inside but he’s also cool so he’s acting like he set this whole thing up (he didn’t, he was nervous as shit). the fingers yours had danced with suddenly hold yours still and pulled you closer to him. your faces are radiating with warmth and he’s speaking so softly it could lull you to sleep.

“we could go on that date right now if you want to..”

you can feel his breath caressing your lips—and even the way his nose has scrunched up a little in joy as it was brushed up against yours. he moves away a little to watches your reaction lovingly and you can see him physically melting. you’d begun to nod your head before a voice from behind chigiri splits that romantic air of yours in half and replaces it with a cold breeze in between you two.

“can’t skip if you’re already here man.”

chigiri sighs with an eye roll as he turns to the voice of his teammate, simultaneously pulling you in his arms.

“well, technically i haven’t stepped foot onto the pitch yet, reo, so am i really here? and besides, you let nagi skip all the time. give me a break this once.”

reo, albeit amused by the scene, huffs at chigiri’s comment and rolls his eyes right back. (such sassy men we have..)

“alright, alright, but you better hurry up and go before coach gets here.”

chigiri nods and says goodbye to his teammate, watching as you waved as well and the two of you leave the school grounds, that precious warmth surrounding the both of you once again.

“so, reo, was it? he the team captain or something?”

“we really gonna talk about other men on our first date?”

“what, you jealous already?”

“no…”

you guys…i actually love how this one turned out especially since it was my first actual fic

i feel like the confession part wasn’t as good as it could be tho 💔

not proofread at all 💀 don’t mind any writing mistakes 😞

#bllk imagines #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #bluelock x you #bllk chigiri #blue lock chigiri #chigiri fluff #chigiri x you #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma #csbnova

65 notes · View notes

babybells123 · 2 days

Text

I recently posted about Sansa Stark on TikTok particularly concerning themes of beauty, love and romanticism (Jonsa if you SQUINT)!! It’s gotten over 2000 likes so far, and the comments have all been positive, but I just received a comment saying “Aegon VI will save her” and had to resist the urge to scratch my eyes out …

Look, I for one want nothing more than for Sansa to be with a man who loves her undoubtedly (and chooses her over her claim, countering all the previous men who have been betrothed to/married to/attempted to abuse Sansa). But I find it incredibly ironic that this is likely an individual who is aware of the Ashford Tourney (hell, maybe they’re even aware of the really subtle Targaryen imagery in Sansa’a chapters - but only if they’re in conjunction with Aegon VI, certainly not the secret cousin who just so happens to also be a Targaryen)… but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they are an alt shift x fan who has watched his brief Ashford Tourney video which barely scratches the surface of the theory (and I too, enjoy Alt’s videos so don’t get me wrong here) but here’s what bothers me - why is the fandom so incredibly intent on ‘proving’ that it is Aegon?

He could be the loveliest, kindest man alive and I still wouldn’t budge on my stance of this marriage doing absolutely nothing to progress Sansa’s narrative arc organically.

How does it challenge her belief of conventionality? Particularly concerning southern ideals of beauty? What is the whole point of Sansa retracting from her current journey, travelling South yet again to marry a man whom she’s never met before? We’ve already been made privy to how wary Sansa is of Harry the Heir, for he could be a “comely monster,” she knows that beauty is deceptive - so already she’d be experiencing those similar feelings of despair … What purpose would it serve to send Sansa back to King’s Landing? A place where she was abused and married against her will? The place where her father was murdered in front of her eyes? The place where she was hostage with no true friends and no family to trust or rely on? Walking on eggshells every day of her life? These are all negative associations. Anyone with eyes and a brain can see that Sansa’a arc is pointing North.

This is the same girl who spends hours building a scale model of her home, Winterfell - in the snow. This is the same girl who refers to herself as the blood of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn - who derives strength from that in the face of her abuser. This is the same girl who at the age of 11, manages to dissociate when faced with the head of her father on a spike, looking North and North until she can see Winterfell in her mind’s eye, whose direwolf - part of her soul, is buried in the North ; who to quote Ned “belongs in the North.” This is the same girl who has been passed around like a vessel of politics since her very first betrothal. Who has been viewed as nothing more than a claim to a vast Kingdom, who is not allowed to exercise that claim in her own right. Who has been denied her inheritance on the basis of her marriage to Tyrion - not just by Stannis , but also by the brother she has loved and idolised (and isn’t that just heartbreaking for Sansa?) - need I remind you of the one single person in this entire series who has not overhauled Sansa’s claim ? Despite it being the one thing he’s ever truly wanted? His hearts most intrinsic desire??

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." (Jon I ADWD)

“Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." (Jon IV ADWD).

I mean, those two phrases in conjunction with;

“It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love.” (Sansa VI ASOS) - which as we know, is followed by a Jon chapter just a page later.

Jon has already unknowingly refuted half of Sansa’s despairing words, as well as silently fulfilling those knightly ideals she believes no longer exist.

So yeah, it annoys me beyond belief when people “theorise” that Sansa will marry Aegon VI/Young Griff. Because it removes her agency yet again, it pushes her further away from her identity and her home that she has slowly but surely been reclaiming - she goes five steps backwards, and regardless of whether you like her character or not, from a writing perspective and how character arcs are meant to unfold - it really doesn’t make sense for her to go back to the place where she has been tormented for most of the series - but then, who am I kidding - these are the same people who don’t believe sansa is an important character and that her arc will either remain stagnant or she’ll just be pushed out of the way whilst other characters are allowed narratively conclusive endings.

But even with all this, even with Valarr Targaryen being a non-Targaryen looking prince with brown hair described as a black prince with a white guardian (gee, I wonder whose image THAT invokes), even with GRRM sitting down and writing a family tree where a Jonnel ‘One Eye’ Stark marries a half niece called Sansa Stark to solve a succession crisis. Quite literally spelling it out on paper for people this fandom just cannot come to any logical conclusions that would make sense narratively, thematically, politically and on a character level. It truly blows my mind.

*sigh.* I’m very tired.

Anyway, to quote GRRM; resolve to be Sansa Stark and take the North. ✌️

#sansa stark #meta #my patience wearing thin #someone sedate me #Jonsa #Jon x Sansa #the black prince with the white guardian

74 notes · View notes

allyeardepression · 1 day

Text

@jegulus-microfic | june 1 pride | words: 896

“Have you heard that Amelia ran into Regulus Black and Dorcas Meadows on the Astronomy Tower last night?”

“What? Is he cheating on Pandora then?”

“He’s with Pandora? I swear I saw him snogging Lily Evans in the library the other day.”

“Bullshit, she’s muggleborn; his parents would kill him if they found out!”

“Yeah, but he’s still Sirius’ brother, so Regulus is probably as rebellious as him.”

Such conversations were everything Regulus could hear lately, as if his dating life were any of other people's business. He knew it was all made up, and he ignored them, even if they became louder and louder every day.

It wouldn’t bother him that much if he was a casanova who craved such rumours about himself. But he was not a casanova; he didn’t even care about women in that way; he much rather preferred men.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? If he said it to anyone besides his friends, he would be eaten alive—first by his classmates, then by his family. Even if the wizarding world didn’t care about who was sleeping with whom, Regulus was still one of the heirs to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black—of course, his coming out as gay would become the biggest scandal of the century.

All of this to say, he kept his mouth shut and let people talk shit about his love life so his everyday life was safe.

“You know,” James said one night, when they laid on Regulus’ bed cuddling. “If they’re bothering you, we could start some nasty rumour, like that you have chlamydia.” The younger boy chuckled at that.

“I think I’ll pass; I prefer them talking about me like I’m some kind of slag,” he replied softly, brushing hair from James’ forehead.

Regulus felt good and safe while with James. He wished he could feel like that all the time, but only the thought of holding his boyfriend’s hand in the corridor full of people made his guts turn.

So, he made peace with people talking about him. It might’ve been irritating, stupid, and untrue, but he preferred it over whatever would come after those people found out about his actual relationship.

It went on for most of his fifth year—in the daylight he would be presumed fuck boy who had every girl at Hogwarts in his bed; at night he became a little twink in love with the Gryffindor’s Golden Boy.

One day in June, during dinner, some older Slytherin girl waved at him to come to her.

“Go on, Reggie! I wonder what she would want from you,” Barty snickered, pushing Regulus in the girl’s direction. The funniest thing was that Barty knew about Regulus and James' relationship, but he still liked to put the younger boy in situations like this that only fueled the rumours.

He strode off, stopping when he reached her.

“Hello,” he said coldly, “can I help you with anything?”

“Hi, yes, actually,” she answered excitedly. “So, we were wondering which of Meadows, Rosier, and Evans you’re dating. Would you be a darling and clarify it for us?” She finished her question, obnoxiously batting her eyelashes. He didn’t even know her; why would he even want to clarify anything to her?

His eyes went to the other side of the room, spotting that lovely smile of his boyfriend’s. He wished he could point at James and say, ‘That one, I’m dating that one’. Oh, how he wished he could just—

A quiet voice in his head whispered, ‘The only one stopping you is yourself; just go’. He considered it for a second.

Ah, fuck it.

Regulus cleared his throat and looked at the girl with a mean smile. “Yes, actually, I could clarify it for you,” and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away in the direction of the Gryffindor’s tabel.

He could hear his heart pounding, feel his hand shaking a little, and his face turning red more and more with every step, but he wasn’t a coward; he wasn’t backing down now. When James turned his head in Regulus’ direction, his face went pale, like he was seeing a ghost. But Regulus still wasn’t backing down.

In no time, he reached the older boy and, without thinking, pulled him by the neck to kiss him thoroughly. And when their lips collided, it was like nothing else mattered. Even when James needed a second to register what was happening and relax, it was the best thing Regulus had ever felt. And when his boyfriend’s hand touched his cheek and the other one grabbed his thigh, the world around them collapsed, and there were only the two of them.

After another minute (or hour, who knows), they pulled away to get some air, and that’s when Regulus noticed it—James eyes were sparkling with so much love and pride that Regulus could only giggle like a lovesick eleven-year-old. In return, James chuckled softly, caressing the other’s cheek gently.

And then it got to Regulus what he just did. At first, he felt like he might be sick, but a second later, that quiet voice from earlier said, ‘Fuck it, you’re free now’.

And on that note, he looked up at the girl on the other side of the room and shouted, “Is it clear enough now?”

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #the marauders #james x regulus #dead gay wizards #marauders #jegulus microfic #by: allyeardepression #1k word or less #pride

50 notes · View notes

valley-of-headcanons · 2 days

Note

If I can request, you did the way the bachelorettes react to ex-stardom. I enjoyed it so much and would love to see it for the bachelors too?

I love your writings ;u; ♡

bachelors reacting to your ex-stardom || headcanons

being in the limelight was fun for a while, but settling down is definitely what you needed. but how would your partner react to your past? part one here!

warnings: nothing that i can see! :)

requested by: anon! hii, thank you so much for the request! this topic is pretty interesting, and i really enjoyed writing for everyone! be sure to check out part one, it adds a little more context and i think it's super duper cool and you're definitely missing out. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

alex

• You and Alex were on the beach, resting after tossing around the Gridball. He got on the topic of his dream of playing Gridball professionally, and how although he wanted to make it big and turn his passion into a profession, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He's been such a shut-in these last few years, only really hanging out with you and his grandparents. The fame sounds so scary. But ... you knew that all too well. He didn't know that, though. Maybe it was time.

• You slowly told Alex that you knew a lot about being famous, before explaining who you were. “Wait- what?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I love your music! Genuinely, like I listen to it all the time ... I know it's not really the manliest choice and it's my guilty pleasure- not to say men shouldn't listen to your music! Oh my yoba- sorry- ... I love your music. That's what I'm trying to say. It's really really good.”

• As you explained why you left the limelight, Alex nodded understandingly. “Yeah, Gridball will always be a dream of mine, but the people I'd be around are probably not good. Maybe staying in the town isn't such a bad idea, huh? I don't think anyone could really beat hangin' with you, grandma, and grandpa.”

• Alex soon opened up about which of your songs was his favorite, and asked in depth about them. There were some that really spoke to him emotionally, and he had a really bad time dealing with that sort of stuff. The fact that you created something he relates to makes him happier than ever! He scored pretty good, if he says so himself.

• Regardless of your old fame, he's still deeply in love with you. He admires your talent, but that doesn't overshadow how you've helped him in his life since you've actually been in it. He will still listen to your music, but maybe a little more publicly. He wouldn't tell anyone unless you said it was okay, but he'd totally be bragging about you if he were allowed.

elliott

• Elliott was not having a great writing session. He invited you over, incredibly stumped with his latest novel. He was bouncing ideas off of you left and right, but nothing would stick! You mentioned that music could be an inspiration, and it was like a lightbulb smacked him in the forehead. He raced over to his stereo and turned on the radio. A cheese-y pop tune ... YOUR cheese-y pop tune. He was embarrassed over the pop playing and immediately turned it, but he did notice your expression and inquired.

• You explained that the song on the radio was a song that you wrote and sang yourself. He was startled at first. “I didn't know we had such a big star in our midst! Are those your lyrics as well? I didn't pin you as such a wonderful writer, but I am so grateful! Someone that shares my writing prowess! I knew some invisible string brought us together!”

• As you continue to explain your past and why you came out to Pelican Town, Elliott nods along, hearing your story. “I didn't realize how similar we are. I understand wanting to get away from it all, that's why I'm out here as well. I suppose you came here to get away from your work, and I came to get closer to it. How awfully poetic that is, don't you think?”

• He asked a lot of questions, really diving deep into your mind. Of course, he only asked if you were comfortable with it. He loved analyzing people's minds, especially if they were different from his own. He may or may not use some of these aspects of your life in his new novel. With your permission, of course. You've always been his biggest muse.

• Elliott is invested in your life, like any good partner should, and admires your creative talent. This only heightens his view of you, as you are an artist, just like him. Despite the different mediums, you two share a lot in common. He would love you regardless of this aspect, but this only draws you two closer.

harvey

• Harvey was giving you a check-up, which was a bit unethical now that you were dating, but eh. He's the only doctor in the town and he's very worried about your health. He noticed that you mentioned a previous injury when checking your knee reflexes. This injury has occurred in a rehearsal for one of your tours. You didn't want to lie to your sweet boyfriend, so you had to admit the truth.

• As he wrote on his clipboard your reasoning, he stopped for a moment. “Tour? Popstar? Is this one of your sarcastic comments that I'm not getting? ... oh, really? You've never mentioned that part of your life before. Please, if you want to open up about it, show me some of your work once we get home. I hate to admit, but I'm fairly curious,” he said with a soft, caring smile.

• When you two get home after the checkup, he starts to cook dinner. “Please, keep me company while I cook. If you'd like to share some stories ... well, only if you're comfortable with it, I know that you got away from fame for a reason, but ... I want to know that part of your life, just like I know this one. Indulge me, if you would, my love.”

• He tries his best to support this part of your life, even if he wasn't involved. He ends up purchasing a lot of your old music and keeping a collection, showing it as a sign of affection. He listens to it while he does household chores, humming along to your songs happily while you're away.

• Harvey didn't mind this aspect of your life. It was another thing that made you the person he loves. He listens to everything you say and pays attention, specifically to the parts of fame you enjoyed and didn't enjoy. He only asked about the stuff you liked, and allowed you to open up about the hard times on your own, when you were ready. He was incredibly careful about the whole thing, and wouldn't dare make you uncomfortable.

sam

• As you and Sam were relaxing in his room one day, he was fiddling with his guitar. He seemed super stumped, strumming random chords to try and make some sense. Nothing was working ... he eventually showed you something that sounds sort of functional? But this rhythm was VERY similar to a song you put out a long time ago. You let out a soft giggle, which left Sam confused. You had to explain now.

• You drop the fact that you were a popstar in a nonchalant manner, trying to make it not a huge deal. But it's Sam. Of course it's a big deal. “No. Fucking. WAY! You're kidding, you've gotta be fucking with me! And you didn't tell me?! For SHAME! As punishment, you've gotta tell me all about it and I will refuse to change the topic. Now SPILL!”

• You explained who you are and why you left everything behind, which Sam thought about for a moment. “Wow ... I never really bought about fame that way. That must've been a lot, and I really do get why you came all the way down here. I'm just glad you're here now, y'know? ... but if you do end up getting the itch to create some music again, with no strings attached to fame, I'm always here. I'd love to create somethin' sick with you.”

• Sam always asked questions about the parts of fame he didn't know much about. Did you go to any parties? Was this person actually chill or were they a dick? He was so curious and asked probably the weirdest questions imaginable, but they were refreshing. And if you weren't the first person Sam showed his music to before, you were now. He always asked for your approval, and asked how to improve. It was extremely sweet.

• Even though he was excited about everything you had presented to him, he tried his best to be respectful. If you asked him to stop, he would with a nod and a quick apology, giving you a small kiss before putting the topic to bed. He still loved you for you! This aspect about you is just so cool and interesting to him. He adores you regardless, and wouldn't trade the current version of you for anyone else.

sebastian

• Sebastian had just finished working for the day and needed to relax. He flopped down on his couch and pressed the button on his radio. The pop station came on, and he was about to turn it before you walked in. You were shocked to hear your own song playing, staring at him with wide eyes. He makes some sarcastic comments about how this is actually his music taste and you just don't understand him. He doesn't understand why you're so shocked, though.

• As you slowly drop the bomb, he lets out a little chuckle. “Hah. Funny. You can drop the act, I can tell you're fuckin' with me ... are you really a world renowned superstar with several albums with hundreds of chart toppers? Like I believe that! Why the hell would you choose Pelican Town of all places to live, huh? This is the type of town you need to run away from.”

• You eventually have to explain why you left, why that lifestyle really wasn't you. He's actually at a loss for words for a moment, before nodding. “I didn't expect that out of you, you really are full of surprises. Tell me more, if you wanna. I'd be willing to listen. If you don't wanna talk about all that shit though, it's fine. Whatever you wanna do,” he said with a welcoming smile.

• Your music was FAR from what Sebastian listened to commonly. His Radiohead collection can attest for that. But ... he decided to take a listen to your music. He's very picky usually, so this is a pretty good feat. He actually kind of enjoyed it, for once. Maybe you're leading him down the path of liking something that's not edgy. Hmm. That's nice.

• Sebastian found this part of you incredibly interesting, but he didn't ask many questions. If you wanted him to know, he would, and he respected that. He loves hearing you talk about anything that you're passionate about, or just hearing you talk in general. It's arguably one of his favorite past times.

shane

• You and Shane were sitting by the pier one night. This was Shane's safe spot, attempting not to start drinking again. You two spent several afternoons sitting under the glow of the stars with an old cassette player and some of Shane's favorite songs. One of these nights, he mentioned that his childhood dream was to be an actor, and how weird fame seemed. He would hate being famous ... and you did too. This would be a perfect time to drop this bomb.

• You mentioned your past to Shane, but he brushed it off. “Uh huh. And I'm actually a famous bowler but I fucked up my arm and now I'm destined to live the rest of my life in this little shit hole. Oh, my poor dreams. How sad,” he said, his dry humor biting with sarcasm. He noticed your facial expressions ... they weren't sarcastic. “... I'm sober right? You didn't spike my drink or somethin' and you're tryin' to fuck with me ... huh. Now that's a topic.”

• You explained everything, mainly about why you came back here. You figured Shane wouldn't really know much about who you were, that's not his type of music anyway. “Huh. Nice. I figured you were just some corporate big league who got tired of the white walls. A lot of things make a lot more sense, I guess. You're a lot more talented than I thought ... sorry, that was mean- let me rephrase ... you are talented. I really am tryin' to get better about that ...”

• Shane didn't ask much about it further, but would listen if you brought it up again. He ended up stumbling across your work ... it was way better than he imagined. Maybe because it was you. It was a source of comfort to him, and he often listened to your beautiful voice when he was in a dark time. It helped him through a lot.

• He didn't mind your past, you had a lot less skeletons in your closet than he did. He liked hearing your voice, so it was a win-win. He got this down-to-Earth side of you that he enjoys being around, but he can also listen to his star-studded partner whenever he wants. He wouldn't tell you that, though. That's his little secret.

36 notes · View notes

educatedsimps · 16 hours

Note

hello!!! I love your fics! Can I request a kenma x reader? where he does things he hates but still does it for the reader because the reader loves it? eg: getting wet in the rain etc? thank you if do!!

≪ back to fics masterlist

kozume kenma x reader

a/n: HI ANONNN i'm so glad you like our stuff! and ofc bae :) yes kenma would 100% do stuff he doesn’t like just for his partner because they love it.

cw: not exactly the usual type of fic with a storyline, it's kind of like headcanons? mostly? but written headcanons? i think ????? idk man. anyway it's all fluff and kenma being ridiculously in love with you :)

wc: 1.7k

fic below!

the following is based on true events: lyssa: *sends yves a screenshot of the request* look there's another kenma req! yves: he's a literal cat lyssa: yeah! wait but that's not the point of the- yves: hold on i have a tweet for this lyssa: LMAO ofc u do

okay, on to the real stuff!

"Kenmaaaaa, let's go (insert activity of choice)!"

"...do we have to?"

"Yes! It'll be fun, I promise!"

"...are you sure?"

"Yes, come on!"

"...you really wanna?"

"Yes! And I promise to spend a whole day gaming with you. We can play literally any game you want. Now, can we go? Pleaseeee?"

Sigh. "Alright."

This was the usual conversation between the two of you whenever you wanted to do something Kenma didn't necessarily enjoy. In other words, you’d bribe him with a full day of gaming together.

You knew he'd much rather stay in any day of the week instead of go out and engage in such uncomfortable, sweaty and outdoor (derogatory) activities. Anyone who even remotely knew him would know that. However, you genuinely thought that doing more physical activities together would be good for the both of you.

Hence your increasingly frequent pleas for him to join you in doing said activities.

The first time you asked him out on such a date, it was to go swimming together. He looked at you with a blank expression, but you could read his thoughts exactly. "Do you even like me? Do you even know me?" was what he seemed to be saying. With his eyes, at least.

To be honest, most of his reasons for not wanting to go swimming were pretty valid. Why would he wanna get soaked just to take another shower after that? Why would he go swimming when there are gonna be people around to witness him flap around in the water? And his hair is already bleached, so why would he want to ruin it further by going into a pool practically loaded with chlorine? Out of everything, chlorine had to be the bacteria killer? Why couldn't it have been something nicer, like chocolate or something?!

Fair enough, you thought. But by the time the two of you were out of the pool that day (you don't even remember if you just played in the water or if you actually swam laps together), the sun was literally shining down on him, yet his smile seemed brighter than the sun itself. You weren't sure exactly what about swimming had made him smile like that the first time, but since then, every time you suggested going swimming together, you'd remind him how much fun he had the last time and he'd be less opposed to the idea.

Even though he'd probably never admit it to you, he actually enjoyed going swimming with you that first time because of you. The way you laughed and the way you seemed so comfortable in the water honestly captivated him. Then he started to notice how the sun reflected off the water and onto your skin, casting a golden glow around you.

So damn pretty, he remembered thinking to himself.

Soon, you started going swimming at night - to not "die of UV rays", in his words - and the way the moonlight reflected off your skin was simply ethereal. He couldn't have used any other word to describe you in that state. You reminded him of a siren, and if real sirens were even half as beautiful as you, he’d understand why those pirates and sailors were so easily lured out to sea.

Even if you couldn't swim swim, you still looked so content in the water that slowly, he couldn't say no to going swimming with you anymore.

The next kind of activity you asked him to do together was to go to the beach. And of course, you were met with the usual resistance at first. The way his face lightened when you said "swimming" then pinched together when you said "at the beach" told you exactly what he was thinking.

Ew. Sand. Everywhere.

Honestly? Valid. Sand gets everywhere - and I mean everywhere. The sand gets scorching hot in the daytime so why would anyone wanna go there? To get sand up your ass? To burn your feet off?? Like, can't you just do that over the kitchen stove or something?

That was until you were spending the day together at the beach, building sandcastles and sunbathing and just hanging out by the water. You could never forget how relaxed he looked by the end of it.

Sure, there were tons of other people at the beach that day, but he completely forgot about that when he was with you. You just did that somehow - make him feel like it was just the two of you even in a crowded room.

"It's not that bad, right, Kenma?"

"Eh..."

It's "not that bad" only because of you but I'm not admitting that, is what he was thinking.

This process continued with several more activities - cycling, hiking, even going to the gym.

When you asked him to go cycling together, his face told you, "What makes you think I'd enjoy cycling when there isn't even water to help me cool off this time? And what if I lose balance and fall?"

When you asked him to go hiking together, his expression screamed, "There aren't even gonna be wheels this time, are you kidding me? My legs are gonna give out. You're gonna have to haul me back home by yourself and it's not gonna be my problem."

And when you asked to go to the gym together, he muttered, "Kuroo and Yamamoto are rubbing off on you."

Despite these complaints, Kenma always came home looking more refreshed than ever. Even though he still didn’t love those sports, he didn’t hate them either, thanks to you. But that wasn't the point.

To him, the point was just seeing you do what made you happy. And as much as he hated getting all sweaty and sore and tired, he absolutely loved watching you go about the activities you had planned. Sure, you were just as sweaty and sore and tired as he was, but he didn't care. He honestly just cared that you were happy, and he knew then that he would do anything just to make you smile like that for the rest of your lives.

As for non-physical activities, if you love doing things like going to the museum, painting, gardening, yoga or meditation, board games, photography, he'd definitely be less resistant even though he doesn't particularly love those activities, and of course he'd just enjoy spending that time with you. Honestly, he's just glad you didn't pick something physically draining this time.

One time, you dragged him away from his video game and out of his bedroom to go play in the rain together. When you told him you wanted to go out into the rain, he had half a mind to drag you back into the house and lock you in the bedroom with him. But he was also kinda curious as to what you could possibly find so exciting in the middle of a rainstorm, so he followed you outside with just his hoodie, sweatpants and house slippers.

As raindrops pelted against his skin and clothes, he looked up to see you standing in front of him with your arms held out to the side and your head tilted slightly upward.

It was cool and rainy night, and Kenma would typically be in the comfort of his bed or gaming chair, safely sheltered from the rain. Why the hell would you wanna go out in the rain when you have a perfectly good house to stay in? He thought earlier.

Now, he finally had an answer to that. Two, in fact.

One, it was beautiful. He's obviously seen rain before, but only from his window. He had never been in the rain like this before. He's been caught in the rain on the way home from school or practice, sure, but never deliberately in the rain.

Looking up, the night sky was splattered with stars, barely visible behind metallic grey storm clouds. Silvery droplets raced towards the ground and glistening specks of water started to collect on his lashes. Blinking them away, he could see you in front of him.

The second answer to his earlier question was simple. You.

Dressed in one of his old volleyball jerseys, home shorts and slippers, you still looked so goddamn beautiful to him. You were laughing wholeheartedly even as raindrops assaulted your skin from above. You were somehow glowing even with just the dim streetlights nearby. Turning towards him, you grabbed his hands and pulled him towards you, further out onto the empty street.

"Come on, babe, have some fun!" You yelled, making sure he could hear you through the downpour. He could feel the rainwater slowly soaking through the material of his hoodie and onto his skin. He watched as you started kicking your feet and jumping into puddles of water on the road, and soon, the two of you were in the middle of an all-out puddle war.

Sooner or later you'd both be out of breath, and you'd end up with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. As the two of you swayed slowly back and forth, everything seemed to be in slow motion. The falling of rain around you, the steady beating of your heart, your slow breaths and the quiet rumble of thunder nearby added to the overall ambience.

Thinking back, he wasn't sure if this experience was beautiful because of the rain or because of you. Probably the latter, he thought. Furthermore, if he had to describe this experience in one word, he'd say it was magical. Simply and absolutely magical, and all thanks to you.

That day, he also decided that going out into the rain with you was worth an extra shower, and eventually this became a habit for the two of you whenever it rained heavily at night. If you moved to an apartment, you'd stand on the balcony together and stay there while it rained. Sometimes you'd dance, sometimes you'd play around with the puddles of rainwater on the ground, and sometimes you'd just be in each other's arms talking about anything and everything.

Main point is, he’s in love with you and he would do anything for you - even if it means getting sweaty and tired. Though I don’t think he’d complain that much if you asked to play volleyball HAHAHA

#educated.simps #haikyuu x reader #lyssa.writes #simps.write #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyu #hq fluff #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma x reader fluff

35 notes · View notes

cottagec0relover21 · 1 day

Note

Ok so, the idea just popped in my mind and I RLLY need someone to write it LMAO

Your Chilchuck fics give me LIFE so you were me go to, no questions asked

Could I get Chilchuck with a reader (preferably male, but gender neutral is also ok!) who miscalculated the ammount of anxiety medication they had left and ended up running out in the middle of the dungeon? Reader is having a hard time with their anxiety ticks and one of the side effects of going a bit too long without them is his body starting to "shut down" and become slightly like a ragdoll. Reader is still talkative and behaves as normal besides their head going to the side aggressively, flopping to the side and body parts just going all weak when they sit, flopping legit like a ragdoll (this os very self indulgent and has happened to me once, it is not good to say the least LMAO)

I completely understand if this makes you uncomfortable to write! And if so, a reader with severe generalized anxiety would work in the place of this request!

Hii! I'm sorry if this took too long ;-; since I have generalized anxiety and therefore I'm more knowledgeable about that subject, I'll write for a reader with severe generalized anxiety. I don't want to fuck up the other option with the ticks and such, because I don't know about the condition and I don't want to offend anyone. So hopefully this is okay!! love y'all thanks for being patient!

(Also changing my POV today) I'm so glad you love the way I write, it means the world to know that💗

"A Comforting Half-ling"

[Chilchuck Tims x gn!reader]

Warnings: none - fluff

Your hands were sweaty. You had been fidgeting with your fingers for a while, feeling a pit at the bottom of your stomach that made you even more anxious that you already were. The slight pang of pain in the chest that came from time to time the more you thought about the problem at hand bothering you as you sat on the corner of one of the rooms of the dungeon that the group had stopped by. Why were you so anxious? Simple. There was another party in that same room, and the rest of the group had decided to be all social and chat for a bit as they sat down to take a break from walking around.

Gosh I must look really weird sitting alone in this corner. I think they didn't hear me when I said "hi." What if they think I'm an asshole? Or a weirdo? Or a weird asshole?! you thought, looking around the room.

—Oh yeah, and that one there is (y/n), they're kinda shy— you jumped, your head snapping back to stare at the middle of the room as Laios pointed a finger back at you. Everyone's eyes were on you. Never had you wanted earth to swallow you whole and never come back so desperately before.

As the conversation resumed, the half-foot's eyes stayed on you, a curious and worried expression on his face as he watched you fidget with your hands.

He excused himself softly and walked up to them.

—Hey, why don't you come with me for a second? I need your help with something— Chilchuck pointed to the door, and your feet hurried to stand up and get out of the room as quickly as possible. Once outside that room, and away from the hearing range of the others, he sat against the wall, patting the space beside him.— What's got you so jumpy?— he looks at you, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Looking at him, you wonder if it's okay to admit out loud how anxious you were about, not just talking to people, but almost anything that had to do with being in public.— You're always behind us when we encounter other parties, and you don't seem to want to be there. I'm starting to think you're not just "shy"— Chilchuck called you out.

Beginning to explain to him how you were always on edge around people wasn't the easiest task. Admitting that, you were afraid of not being seen as capable, but being seen as a bother or even a burden ate you up every second of your life to Chilchuck was hard but worth it, because now you had someone that understood you better than any of the rest of the group. Everyone gets a little anxious at times, but you were a little extra anxious about everything.

Sitting cross-legged and now intently staring at you as you finished your through explanation of how you felt almost all the time, Chilchuck sighed and placed a comforting hand over your shoulder.— I'm really sorry you have to feel like that. I get anxious for five minutes and I hate it, so you being on edge all the damn time must suck— he offered a sympathetic apology, understanding you easily.— Whenever you feel like that, just... uh– try and tell me, or nudge me, whatever works best for you— he smiles softly, and the look on your face makes him huff softly in embarrassment and look away, retrieving his hand from your shoulder. When you give a soft laugh at his reaction he starts protesting and huffing at you, although we all know he wasn't seriously that upset.

When you hug him, however, he falls silent and sighs, taking a moment to return your embrace.

From then on Chilchuck tries his best to comfort you and help you everytime he notices you feeling anxious.

You need to buy something but can't because you're afraid of taking too long and upsetting the line behind you? He'll go with you and hold your hand. Maybe you're afraid of the guy at the stall, selling whatever it is you want to buy. Don't worry, he'll talk for you when you get nervous and start to stutter. Or even if you don't even want to talk at all.

Afraid someone is judging you? He's jokingly rolling his sleeves up and asking "Who? Who is it? Point at them and they'll never see what got them!" (They won't but that's because he's small and he kicks their knee from behind)

If you feel like everyone is judging you, though, he holds your hand and guides you away into a corridor/hallway where it's less crowded

Ever start hyperventilating? The first time he'll panic, and he'll struggle to find the words and actions to properly help you calm down. But it doesn't take him long before he has it memorized.

You're basically the only one on the group who's got Chikchuck breaking his rules about innerparty relationships, because he's grown very close and attached to you.

You're such an amazing person, you shouldn't have to struggle like this.

He gets very happy for you when you manage to do something that makes you anxious on your own. Maybe you spoke up to a whole group of people completely alone, or maybe you went and bought something that you really wanted without struggling at all.

When that happens he's sure to give you a smile and a thumbs up or a pat on your leg (you're taller than him, don't tease him about it or he'll get all red in the face and start mumbling to himself)

Overall, Chilchuck would understand you and try to help. He struggles, and sometimes you might think you're being a bother for him, but he makes sure to tell you that "no, you're not a burden nor a bother. I'm simply... not used to comforting people that often."

+ romantic established relationship headcannons

If you tell him that having him by your side is comforting, even in the slightest, he'll cough and look away, hiding his growing embarrassment.

If you ask to borrow something of his to comfort you, he's scrambling all over his words but eventually giving said item to you gladly.

You hide your face in his scarf after wrapping it around your neck and softly inhale his scent— Ah... you smell so nice. And the scarf is so warm— so is his face. A beautiful tomato red all over his cheeks and ears as he looks at you, genuinely feeling better just by borrowing his scarf.

Or maybe you borrow his gloves (if they fit) and put them on.— Okay... but why my gloves?— he asks curiously, waiting an eyebrow as he looks up at you.

You smile, wiggling your fingers after putting the gloves on— Makes me feel like I'm holding your hand— he falls silent, and he opens his mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a flustered exhale as he turns around and walks away from you as he mumbles a "you're unbelievably.... cute" that you're sure he didn't mean for you to hear.

A few minutes later he'll return by your side as you're walking and extend his hand up, looking ahead— You can just hold my damn hand, you know?— he mumbles, and you notice how his cheeks tint with red once again.

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims x reader #fanfic #chilchuck #chilchuk tims

33 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 3 days

Text

Deadly Proposal: Part Five

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, drug use (cocaine), heartbreak

Summary: Amber takes it a step too far when she throws a party at Dean's house. She crosses a line completely when she reverts back to her old self, and you are done breaking your back for her.

Deadly Proposal Masterlist

Square Filled: force feeding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The fight with your sister and Dean made it so you couldn’t sleep well last night. You slide out of bed, throw on something to wear that’s semi-appropriate, and head down to the kitchen. You’re not expecting to see anyone but Sonja, so you’re surprised when Amber is sitting at the kitchen island. She gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything to you.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I know you want me gone but my boyfriend didn't show.”

“I never said I wanted you gone,” you sigh. “I was frustrated yesterday, and I said something I didn’t mean. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

You sit at the kitchen counter and turn to her.

“Why don’t you and I go into town today and look for jobs? You said you were going to try.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that later.”

“You need to do it sooner rather than later. Dean only gave you a week here.”

“What are you, my mom?” she scoffs.

She leaves her untouched food on the counter and storms to her room. Your shoulders sag in defeat but you don’t dwell for long. Sonja takes her food away and sets a plate in front of you with a kind smile on her face.

“Thanks, Sonja.”

As you eat, you think about Dean and your fight. Was it a fight? You know you’re not supposed to feel anything for him since you’re just a blood bag for him but the more he drinks from you, the more you crave him. Not just him, but his time and attention as well. You want to know so much about him but he doesn’t give you much to work with. He’s so mysterious and it’s driving you insane.

The thing with Amara isn’t sitting well with you either. You hated how jealous you got when she came over. She’s so beautiful, and may or may not have been involved with Dean. You subconsciously touch the wounds on your neck that have mostly healed. What did she mean when she said your blood was special? She said that she’d never smell anything like it, but doesn’t she smell blood all the time? No, that was carnal behavior. Dean talked to her but you’re not sure what he said to her. Does he even care?

No, screw this. You’re not going to sit here and continue to wonder. You’re going to get answers now. After you’re done eating, you walk upstairs to where Dean’s office is. Your hand hovers over the doorknob as doubt begins to creep inside your mind. Would he give you the time of day? Would he send you to your room like a petulant child?

“I can hear you breathing, you know,” Dean says from inside.

It’s now or never. You open the door and walk inside. Dean is sitting at his desk typing quickly on his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“Nosy much?” he smirks.

“I can’t help it.” You shrug. “I’m bored and you’re not paying attention to me.”

Dean chuckles and leans back in his chair to give you his undivided attention.

“If you must know, I’m working.”

“You have a job?” you gasp in a teasing tone.

Dean shakes his head with a smile he can’t resist. “Yes.”

“What is it you do?”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

You walk over to his desk, sit across from him, and cross your legs.

“Do you realize you’re always brooding or does it come naturally to you?” Dean rolls his eyes and continues typing. “So, where’s your brother? I’m assuming you have one, right?”

“Are we doing this right now?”

“Fine.” You pause. “Do you have any parents?” He doesn’t reply. “I’m going to keep asking you questions until you answer.”

“Fine.” Dean groans and pushes his laptop away to pay attention to you. “You have five minutes. Go.”

“How old are you?”

“Over half a millennium. Seven hundred and sixty-two years if you want to get specific.”

“How did you become a vampire?”

“I was working a hunt when I was human. Vampires. They got to me before I could get to them. I’ll spare you the bloody details.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I help women escape their abusers.”

You’re taken aback. You did not expect that to come from him. You want to know more but then you’d use up your five minutes and you need to more about him.

“You made it sound like you had a family. Any siblings?”

“Dead.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“Are all your friends dead, too?” Dean cracks a smile and looks away to try and hide it. Your smile fades slowly. “Are you going to kill me when you’re done with me?”

“No.”

“Why me? Why take me out of everyone you could have taken?”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah, my ‘special blood’,” you scoff. “What does that mean? Amara said I had special blood, too. What makes me special?”

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She had the same blood you did. In fact, you two are more similar than I’d care to admit. Maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore. Maybe she was the best thing to have happened to me in a long time, and I want to have that again.” Your mouth goes agape as you try and process his words. He clears his throat and pulls his laptop closer to him. “Times up. Now get out and let me work.”

That’s more than you thought you’d get so you won’t complain. You get up as he continues typing, and you walk to the door slowly. You look back at him but he doesn’t spare you another glance. Since you don’t want to see Amber and Dean doesn’t want to hang with you, you decide to hang out in your room for the next few hours either reading, playing video games, or browsing Amazon for new stuff for your room.

It’s nearing dinner time so you get out of bed to see what Sonja has made. When you open the door, you hear music blasting from downstairs and commotion that sounds like chatter coming from a huge crowd. You take the stairs down two at a time to see people filing into Dean’s house. Strangers who are already inside hold red cups filled with God only knows what. This is a party. Dean would never throw a party and you didn’t, and there is only one person here that would.

You push past everyone to get to the living room where Amber is sitting on the couch with two nasty-looking men. Unkempt hair, dirty clothes, and yellow nails.

“Amber! What the hell are you doing?!”

“It’s a party!” she grins. “I was bored of staying in this house with nothing to do.”

“Fuck, Amber! This isn’t your house.”

“It’s not yours either. Plus, Dean is almost always gone. He won’t mind, I’m sure.”

How did you ever think you could change her? How did you ever think she would be willing to change? You’re about to respond to her when you feel a hand wrap around your arm. Dean pulls you away from Amber and to an empty room nearby. He shoves you inside the room and slams the door behind him with a deadly glare on his face.

“Dean, I am so sorry. I didn't know she was doing this. All these people just showed up,” you stutter. “God, she always does shit like this. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean glares. “Get rid of them.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“I mean it, Y/N. I am a vampire and this party is filled with blood bags. Get rid of them before I do.”

Your eyes widen when you realize the threat behind his words. You leave the room and push through the sea of people that seemed to get bigger from ten minutes ago. You grab a few cups from people but they pass you by without another thought.

“Party’s over! You need to leave!” you shout over the loud music. No one is listening to you so you push your way to the DJ who is spinning the record player. “Hey! You need to stop. The party is over!”

“Get lost,” he says and continues playing music.

The control is slowly leaving your body and you start to panic. People are doing body shots off of other people, some are in the pool half-naked, and some are playing beer pong and doing drugs, among them is Amber. From the DJ stand, you can see over everyone’s head and to the couch where you left Amber. There are white lines on the table, one of which she sniffs up her nose. You don’t think anyone can hear your heart break over the music.

You jump off the platform and push through the crowd to get to her. She sniffs up another line of drugs when you yank on her hair.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Great, it’s the fun police,” she giggles with her friends. She grabs her alcohol bottle and takes a few swigs. “You need to lighten up, Y/N. Have fun. Get drunk. Get laid. Where’s Dean?”

Tears prick the back of your eyes. “This isn’t funny, Amber. This is my life. You come in and ruin everything! You’re poison and a parasite. I don’t even know why I helped you in the first place!”

Amber glares but she is too high to care enough to bite back.

“Let’s play Seven Minutes in Heaven!” she shouts. A few people cheer her on as she shugs the rest of her alcohol. Some drops fall from her mouth when she pulls the bottle away but she wipes it away with the back of her hand. “Y/N, you go first!”

“No, I’m not playing, Amber. Seriously, the party is over.”

Amber doesn’t listen and spins the bottle on the now drug-free table. The bottle spins and lands on a spot that’s right behind you, and she grins when she sees who is standing there.

“Dean, you gotta go in the closet with Y/N.”

You turn swiftly and see Dean standing there with an emotionless face. Shit, he looks pissed. Someone grabs your shoulder and pushes you and Dean into the nearest closet. The door closes before you can say anything.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“I don’t care about the party, anymore.” Dean steps closer to you, puts a hand on the wall behind you, and leans in closer to you. “What are you doing to me?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I can’t get you out of my head. You’re so different from her.” You can only assume he’s talking about the woman before you. He’s so close that your heart is racing a million miles a second. He leans in so close that you think he is going to kiss you but he doesn’t. He’s stopping himself as if kissing you is the most horrible thing to do. You sigh in disappointment which Dean picks up on. “Fuck it.”

He turns back to you, grabs both sides of your head, and kisses you so deeply that your knees immediately go weak. He holds you close and takes complete control over the kiss. His lips mold to yours like they were always meant to be there. His tongue touching yours sends sparks flying down your body. Your head is swirling too quickly for you to keep up, and all you can smell is him.

He finally pulls away from you and you lean against the wall to steady yourself. Dean doesn’t say a word and leaves the closet since the seven minutes are up. You touch your lips with a shaky hand as you force yourself to calm your racing heart and mind. Amber is gone from the couch when you leave the closet but you don’t care about her. You storm over to the DJ who is taking a water break and snatch the microphone from the stand.

“Party is over. Get out. The police have been called and are on their way!”

That does it for most. They scatter like startled cats and the rest leave because everyone else is. Soon, the house is empty and covered with trash and empty bottles. You’ll clean this later but right now, there is one person on your mind who you need to deal with. It’s not hard to find your sister when she is vomiting her guts out in the downstairs bathroom. You don’t care if you get vomit on you. You yank her away from the toilet by her hair and pull her toward the door.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this,” she cries.

“You’re done, Amber. You’re not living here anymore.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again,” she sobs.

You drag her to the front door and throw her out on her ass. She has tears running down her face and looks at you with a heartbroken look.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“No, I am not doing this again. Go find somewhere else to sleep, and go find someone else who will give a shit about you because I am done.”

With that, you slam the door in her face. You start to clean the house from the partygoers but that doesn’t distract you from Amber’s cries on the front porch. You continue to ignore her until she stops which means she either fell asleep on the porch or she left. A quick check through the window tells you it’s the latter.

Amber stumbles from the house in tears and down the long driveway to the road. She has no idea where she is going to go but maybe there is a homeless shelter that might take her for the night. She pulls her thin jacket tighter against herself since it’s starting to get cold outside. She walks further down the road when she hears the rumble of a car behind her. Maybe she can hitch a ride to town.

She turns and puts her hand out to avoid being blinded by the headlights. The car slows down next to her, and the driver rolls down the passenger side window.

“Can I get a ride into town, please?”

“Hop in,” the man says.

Amber is quick to hop inside the car where the heater is gently blowing.

“Sorry if I seem like a mess. My sister just kicked me out of her life, basically. I know I’m a fuck up. I fuck up all the time. I understand why she would but she’s my sister. We’re supposed to stick together through thick and thin, you know? So I do a bit of drugs. So what?”

“You poor girl,” the man says. “I can help you.”

Amber looks up and sees he hasn’t moved the car since she got in. She glances over at him in confusion. He has a beer belly, hairy arms, a scraggly beard, and dark eyes.

“How?”

The man grins with sharp fangs where his canines should be. He grabs Amber and sinks his teeth into her neck. Amber screams for her life but no one is around to hear them. He’s right about one thing: poor girl.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanficition #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

39 notes · View notes

class1akids · 3 days

Note

Ok so I gave up on this manga long back before the war arc as the story inconsistencies were disappointing me but I kept up with the leaks just to see if it’d go interesting or if HK would fix the plotholes. After reading yesterday’s leaks I am super super pissed and disappointed. As a big bakugou fan, the boy got emotional development but it was made all about deku. He was given a total pointless death that didn’t achieve anything? Why do it? He didn’t save anyone except all might. No feelings shown towards anyone except deku n all might. My expectation was both him n deku trying to save shigaraki but the latter was killed in the most random manner. At first I thought maybe the leakers left something out but no, one punch and he is gone. No is mourning him, no regrets from Deku, he didn’t even speak with the villain. Ever since Deku unlocked Blackwhip, HK stopped showing his emotions, he lost his heart and it’s a pity all BKDK fans think that the manga achieved everything they asked for(PS: No it didn’t, it totally ruined your favourite characters and made them fodder feed, removed all the substance that made them lovable)

Iida wasn’t given much and sidelined (hello stain did you interact with this kid??), Shouto’s storyline went well but at least show him helping in the final fight rather than a single panel and uraraka’s cutest smile thing? Surely he could have written it so much better? Tokoyami, Kaminari, Mina, Kirishima and poor Momo, every kid was shown with lacklustre writing. Given a moment to shine and then faded to background.

And the way HK handled league of villains.. oh man, poor kurogiri, poor tenko, he managed to turn a complex characters into sacrifice.

This was a really sad ending and out of all the directions to go I have no clue why he chose to write this way. He clearly was trying to move the story in a good direction before so I had some hope but the execution of it butchered everything.

Yeah, I agree. I think Hori didn't do Deku or Bakugou justice, and generally what could have been a satisfying celebration of the great bonds of Class A, as well as the LoV, he barely allowed any meaningful interactions.

It's still bonkers to me that he made All Might fight AFO in an asspull mecha suit with the kids' quirks, while Class A got a single chapter of a combo and for many of the kids that's like their ONLY highlight.

As for the LoV , Tomura dying without even knowing if his friends are alive or being able to do anything for said friends right after he said he wanted to be the hero of the villains? That was just so weird.

I'm really not sure what happened in 424 - it felt like a narrative whiplash that Deku killed Tomura and Bakugou and Deku (presumably) killed Kurogiri all of a sudden. And not in a good twist way, but more like a "let's get this over with" way.

I think I tend to agree with hamliet who wrote a post about how Hori's greatest weakness is trying to please everyone and also the suspected editorial / WSJ meddling. I don't know what to think.

I mean you are correct to say that it's not the first time Hori dropped the ball - to me the decline starts way back at the Overhaul arc. But he still had good spots and there was a set up. All he had to do was put the roof on top of the bricks he built.

#c1a asks #bnha critical

30 notes · View notes

ashsimpsalot · 1 day

Text

Mera naam... (Monkey man Kid X Reader)

A/n: uhhhh idk if I like it as much as coconut & honey but enjoy!

'you should never lie'

his mother once told him with angry eyes that he hated to see so much. When Kid was just 8 years old, he had lied to his poor mother about going to play near the river just in front of their humble home, instead, going off far away into the market because he wanted to buy the bangle she's been eyeing for a while.

He's been a proper good boy, he swore, he helped Mr Deepesh, their next door neighbour, by cleaning up his chicken coop for money. He didn't mean to worry her.

'You shouldn't lie to the people you love, even when you think it's for a good reason, a lie is a lie,' she had worriedly say while hugging her boy to her chest.

He didn't think those words would haunt him 20 years later. Kid didn't even mean to lie to you, he didn't even mean to fall for you, but he had, and his lies only bury him into a deeper hole.

"Bobby? You're ready to go?" your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the beer he's been nursing while you pack up the kitchen still in his hand.

"yeah," he nods, giving you a small smile. You wrapped your hands around his arm so easily as if you've been doing it for years, in reality it's only been 4 months.

4 months of lies

4 months of love

His mind wandered back to how he got here, with your hands wrapped around his arm, heading for your motorcycle. Was it that night? When he first entered his shift, he noticed you eyeing him. He didn't think much of it, you were a chef after all. You could've just been curious about the new staff.

Was it when he keeps staring at you too? Unintentionally?

But it's definitely when you start smiling at him. He's never had any other thought than revenge then this.. You... You happened.

"hey handsome, where's your mind travelling to?" you asked so sweetly he didn't even mind. Kid didn't know much about himself but he knew he hated when anyone else interrupt his thought process, not you though, never you.

Kid smiled and shook his head. "nowhere, right here," he covered it up with a quick peck on your lips and took your helmet from you, placing it onto your head and pinning it on for you, then with a stupid smile on his face he lifted the visor to boop your nose. You chuckled.

Fuck, is this love? This overwhelming feeling over the slightest thing you do?

He put on his own helmet and got on the bike, waiting till you get on too. His waist never felt so empty until you wrapped your arms around them.

4 months ago he didn't even have his own room, now he's heading to "our store" getting off the bike and ordering "the usual" and going straight to "our spot"

He doesn't even know who he is anymore.

Your kiss on his lips brought him back to reality.

"congrats, baby, on making it to VIP floor." you said with a smile on your lips.

If only you knew why he wanted to be on VIP floor so bad.

"thank you, jaan," he whispered softly, arms around your waist, swaying left to right lightly as if dancing to a song. He leaned down and kissed you again. "what's this? What's wrong?" damn you, you always somehow knew, your finger tracing his eyebrows as if to pull the frown out of his face.

He didn't know what to say. Tell you what? He's not at all who you think he is? He's plotting to kill a man? Burn the hotel? Kill one of the most influential fucking man in India?

"hey, you can tell me, Bobby, I'm here," you called that name so lovingly he had to physically fight from flinching.

In a perfect world where he isn't such a coward he'll open his mouth and tell you the truth but the truth is he's just that, a coward.

"i swear it's nothing, jaanu, just... Tired," he smiled and hugged you burying his nose in your neck, scared that he'll forget what you smell like once you find out who he is.

Your fingers snaked into his curls, playing with them like always, like it's yours, like he's yours.

"I've got you, always," you whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss after.

He hope you meant that

Because after almost 2 months of disappearing, hiding from the police in the temple with the hijras, he's back, at your house, knocking.

You opened the door, you looked great but your eyes looks almost dead, somber.

"jaanu," that's all he could whisper, seeing you again is...

You tried to close the door but his reflexes made him able to hold the door open.

"please, please just let me explain myself"

You looked at him and scoff. "explain what? I don't even know who you are, what could you possibly say to me? What was your plan? Kill Rana and pin it on me or something? Is that it?" your voice gets shakier and shakier by each sentence, your grip on the door loosen. Kid quickly shook his head.

"no, no, never, jaanu," he had wrapped his arms around your crying figure, his body is half through the door, cupping your cheek and tenderly caressed your tears away.

"I trusted you! I loved you!" you cried out and all he could do was hold onto you while you smack your fists on his chest again and again.

"I know, i know," he whispered, he lead you inside as you limped against him.

On the couch he held you, tighter than usual, he lets you cry onto his chest, not caring about the condition of his shirt.

"you didn't call, you didn't explain, you just vanished, I thought you fucking died!" you cried out.

"I know jaan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" thats all he can offer. He kept whispering apologies and sweet nothings into your ear until you end up falling asleep on his chest. He laid you down on the couch, planted a soft kiss on your forehead and went to the kitchen. Skillfully manoeuvring through your kitchen, making a meal as he's been there countless of time. He didn't keep track of time, only glancing at the clock when he hears a croak of your voice calling his 'name'.

"I'm here jaan," Kid said walking towards the couch to see your eyes teared again.

"I thought you left again," you said with a whine in your voice, he sat next to you, arm pulling your towards him to kiss your head. "I'm here," he repeated.

"I went to make you some food, it's pretty early I don't think you've eaten," he explained, you simply nodded.

"I... I want you to explain to me who you are and what's happening." you said voice beyond tired.

"my name isn't Bobby,"

"yeah no shit," you scoffed, he only nodded, he's glad really, you're letting him hold you, touch you that's a good sign, right?

" my name... Is Kid. I worked at Queenie's hotel because I'm... Plotting revenge on Rana and Baba shakti. For killing my mother." his voice grew quieter and quieter. The obvious pain in his voice when he mentioned his mother.

"my hands," you looked at those hands, his scarred hands he meant, the ones you would plant kisses on after a night of passion, the ones you loved so much. "they got hurt when I tried to put out the fire my mother was set on... By Rana Singh," he said, face grew harder, voice turned colder.

You stared into his eyes. "Kid," you tried calling his name. He looked at you, all attention on you as if nothing else matters.

"I swear I didn't mean to rope you into this. I didn't mean to hurt you, I couldn't... I couldn't stay away from you, I tried. You consume me, my thoughts, I've never thought of anything else but revenge all my life and you walked into it and make me feel alive again. As if I could have any other life than just death after revenge. I never wanted to live but when I hold you I feel this fear of death that I've never felt before. Understand that all was real, my feelings for you was real, is real," he begged, his hands on your cheeks again.

"but you tried to kill him anyway, why?"

He shook his head. "when I saw him. When I saw that bastard I lost it. Why does he get to live his life while my mother is ashes somewhere on the forest floor?" he grunted, face angered.

You do what you always does, your finger start tracing his eyebrows, his face visibly soften. Like he could breathe again. He took your other hand and kissed it, leaning into your touch. He had been craving you, and you knew. "you're going after him again aren't you?"

"yeah" was all he could breathe out.

You sighed but you understood. The rage he has, it's all he knows.

"will you come back?"

His face lighten. "you want me to?" he asks, hopeful.

"always, always come back to me."

"but I'll be a fugitive by then," he said worried, he's not sure worried that you'll change your mind or that you'll be a fugitive too if you chose to follow him.

You shook your head. "I don't care, come back, we'll run together, I rather not live without you by my side. But Kid.."

"hm?" he asked, looking at you intently with your hands on his. "don't lie to me ever again. Ever." you warned.

He nodded his head and pulled you into him. "never, jaanu." he kissed you deeply, deeper than he ever did that day, lead your body the way he missed. He devoured you full that day, passion spilling into physical touches. He need you to understand his love. He needs you to scream his name. His real name.

#kid monkey man #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man x reader #dev patel #monkey man fluff #monkey man imagine

32 notes · View notes