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bakuhatsufallinlove · 4 months

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424

All right, listen. It’s pretty damn funny that two weeks ago I posted all like, “oh I don’t really comment chapter-by-chapter, I’m waiting to see what happens next,” but this one broke me.

This chapter was everything I wanted for bkdk, and it’s so much more tender than I ever dreamed it could be.

This post is not going to be like most of my posts, because I am a flood of emotion. If you’re wanting some detailed, well-researched analysis of this scene, that ain’t coming for a while.

I don’t have some kind of comparative linguistics to show you. I just have my visceral reactions as someone who speaks Japanese and has absorbed Japanese media for many years. I have shared my heart with others in Japanese, I’ve sputtered out words between sobs and felt the many kinds of comfort different people try to offer. I have comforted others who let themselves be vulnerable with me.

In all these moments, just as in English, I wondered if my words and feelings reached them. Each time, I felt the warmth of connection when they looked at me, and I decided that they knew I did my best. They accepted me, even if it wasn’t perfect.

I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I wouldn’t normally say this so directly, but it matters to me: the fan translation for this specific scene is not good. The tone is wildly off in some ways and it outright omits a number of very important words.

The official translation gets so much of it right.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about how people are reading this scene.

I have seen a ton of, frankly, oblivious interpretations of Izuku’s side of things.

Listen to me. Izuku is not making fun of Katsuki for crying, he is not telling Katsuki that crying isn’t like him, that isn’t in the text at all. He is not rejecting Katsuki’s feelings, or belittling them, or ignoring them, or any of that.

Izuku has seen Katsuki cry in-canon a number of times, but every time it was over his own personal failures, and the frustration, anger, guilt, and grief associated with them. We see it in the aftermath of Deku vs. Kacchan 1. We see it during Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Izuku is shocked to see Kacchan cry because this is the first time he has cried for Izuku.

When Katsuki apologized in 322, he looked Izuku in the eye and told him his feelings with conviction and poise. He was gentle and vulnerable, but strong, because he was asking Izuku to trust them and rely on them. To come back with them and believe in them, like they believe in Izuku. He bowed his head to show his remorse. He caught Izuku when he fell, and he accepted Izuku’s own apology.

He embodied dignity, sincerity, and strength of character. He was a true hero.

This?

This is the raw, honest sorrow of a young boy. It is a tender, earnest, unguarded display of how much Izuku means to him.

These are the tears you shed for someone you cherish. These are tears for when you think you are losing something you can’t live without. Because Katsuki isn’t just crying for the loss of Izuku’s dream—it’s their dream, the future they dreamt up together as kids.

Izuku is almost pathologically incapable of understanding how other people see him and feel about him, but this is unmistakable. He is stunned because there is no other explanation.

There is unmitigated heartache and longing at the core of Katsuki saying, “I just thought somehow we would be together like this, competing and chasing after each other, forever.”

And Izuku is reeling, but so, so touched, and filled with fondness. Look at how his shock shifts to this overwhelmed, affectionate smile.

He’s right—this isn’t the usual Katsuki, and that is precisely why it means so much. We as the audience have been privy to Katsuki’s feelings, but until now Izuku himself has never really grasped the depth of them. This is all the tenderness Katsuki has kept locked up inside, and he is letting Izuku see it for the first time.

To see Kacchan—strong, fierce, and absolutely unstoppable—shed these innocent, helpless tears for him and tell him through sobs that he wanted things to stay this way forever, I can’t blame him for being blown away.

I think Izuku expected Katsuki to be shocked and a little sad that he gave up OFA, both for Izuku’s sake and because it is the legacy of their hero. Before Katsuki even starts crying, Izuku has this small smile on his face, like he was ready to reassure him that he had made peace with his own choice.

But he clearly didn’t expect for Katsuki to weep openly in front of him about it or to confess to wanting him by his side. Izuku had so enjoyed just being allowed near Katsuki, allowed in his life at all—to think that Katsuki could want the same and want it this much, to the point that he worries that things would change, that Izuku would abandon him or deny him? How could that ever be?

In what world could Izuku ever stop chasing Kacchan?

Izuku is a bit of an idiot. He has always thought that Katsuki understood how much he cared for and admired him—that’s why he is so shocked during DvK2 to hear that Katsuki thought he looked down on him for years. Izuku thought Katsuki understood his feelings and simply rejected them.

The way he loves Kacchan is natural and unquestionable. Even now, he can’t understand how Katsuki doesn’t know. It’s baffling to him.

But he still accepts Katsuki’s vulnerability and responds to the intimacy.

This is such an affectionate, loving thing to say. Izuku is being so sweet. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how Izuku telling Katsuki, “C’mon, stop it, this isn’t like you!” reaffirms their closeness.

If Izuku had not said this line and instead skipped straight to this nervous, awkward little attempt at comfort here:

It would have read as so much more distant.

With his tears and his confession, Katsuki pleads with Izuku to not leave him. To be with him always.

And in response, Izuku unabashedly stakes his claim on their bond by being bold enough to affectionately scold him and even assert authority on what kind of person Katsuki is. Remember these?

Chapters 202 and 319

This is such a staple in Japanese media for showing close bonds. Your loved ones know you. They tease you. They scold you. They have that right. You gave it to them.

The people you love cheer you up by reminding you that you’re strong and brave and that even if things feel hopeless and like you can’t go on, that they know you can. Everything will be okay, and they know so because they’ll be right there with you. Of course they’ll be there.

Symbolically, throughout the series, Izuku’s response to Katsuki trying to be closer to him has always been: “Of course.”

He has always accepted Katsuki as much as he is able to, as much as he had awareness for. He is wildly lacking in self-awareness, so it’s certainly not perfect, but by god does he try.

What Izuku is really saying is a mixture of “Really? You want that, too?” and “Don’t be silly!”

One part is him being shocked and touched; the other is him being absolutely certain of his own heart, and showing it as best he can.

He does get flustered and self-conscious, though—because it’s overwhelming to see Kacchan this way, and this is kind of new territory for them. So he switches tactics to reassure Kacchan about how things are now, and make sure he doesn’t feel embarrassed about this outburst. He still has the embers, so it’s okay for now. And their bodies are weak, so of course their heads will be in a bad place too, it’s easy to get low spirits. Of course Katsuki would be feeling vulnerable. It’s normal.

He gives Katsuki so many things here. He gives him as much as he can.

Izuku doesn’t know how long he’ll have the embers for and, frankly, he doesn’t have any guarantee that he will be able to satisfy this longing of Katsuki’s after he loses them. This, too, is a staple of promises in Japanese media: “I don’t know if I can satisfy you, but I want to try. I hope you can accept me.”

Things will be different—the future is always uncertain, now more than ever for their world. But what will never change is what they feel in their hearts.

After this scene, I honestly don’t care if we get something other people see as “bkdk canon.”

What Katsuki says is as good as a confession to me. What Izuku says in return is genuine and pure. This is a messy pair of teenage boys figuring out how to reach each other with words, when they have always been so damn bad at it. This is the two of them both reaching a new point of intimacy and reaffirming everything that came before.

#bkdk #bakudeku #mha 424 #meta #mha spoilers #mha manga spoilers #I swear to god I will fight everyone #my heart is dying at the LACK OF APPRECIATION FOR WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE #some of us need to learn how to love Izuku the way Kacchan loves Izuku

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shockercoco · 3 months

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What Were You Thinking

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - none, fluff

Word count - 2849

a/n - I watched The Bikeriders, so now i'm ready for the benny imagines. Also, I gotta step up my writing game. I hope you enjoy :)

Of course you’re not ignoring him. You haven’t talked to him and you haven’t answered any of his messages or calls, but that doesn’t mean you’re ignoring him, right? Well, maybe.

A couple of nights ago, you and Austin shared a moment after dinner with some crew members and, ever since then you’ve been casually avoiding him. He had been on his way out of the hotel to take a late night stroll to clear his head and asked you if you would like to join him. Thinking nothing of it and needing a release as well, you accepted his offer.

The two of you ended up on the roof of the hotel since no one would be able to find you two there, and after talking for a bit about whatever came to mind, you both just stood in silence as you looked out at the city.

You don’t remember exactly how it happened, but one moment Austin had begun to confess his growing feelings towards you, and then the next the two of you were kissing. It wasn’t a complete surprise because the two of you have grown closer and closer throughout the duration of filming, and you felt some tension between you guys, but you thought you were just being delusional.

Now, it’s not like you didn’t feel the same way towards him because you did – he had you hooked from the moment you first met him – you supposed you just didn’t expect this moment to ever happen. And it’s not like the kiss wasn’t great, Austin was gentle and you felt so safe in his arms – not like you had a list of experiences to compare it to.

When the two of you parted ways for the night, you were on good terms, but when you woke up the next morning everything hit you. Your mind started to race as you began to wonder if Austin had regretted the kiss, or if he had had too much to drink last night which resulted in his confession, or maybe you were just getting pranked.

Then you remembered that Austin isn’t one to drink until getting drunk, and he isn’t a huge fan of pranks, meaning that everything that had happened the night before was real. This didn’t make you feel better at all, though.

You didn’t have to see him that day because you had a flight to catch your next destination of the press tour, and Austin had some talk show to attend meaning he would be on a later flight. That didn’t stop him from reaching out to you, though, and in the beginning you were texting him back, but then you panicked and stopped.

You had told your assistant everything that had happened since you felt so confused, but she didn’t really say anything except how she knew it all along and how you shouldn’t be worried because Austin was the one to confess his feelings first.

This didn’t make you feel better either.

You can’t stay away from him forever though because now you’re about to attend your movie premiere in Sydney, which means you have to see him during pictures and the interviews.

Your assistant walks in on you pacing around your hotel room and asks, “Do you need a paper bag to breathe into?”

You stop your pacing to glare at her and say, “You’re not funny.” You decide to look out of the window to distract yourself, only to notice the drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky.

Great.

“I don’t understand what you’re so worried about, it’s just Austin,” your assistant tells you.

“You mean the guy I made out with and then completely avoided him after? What the hell am I supposed to say to him?” you ask, about to run a hand over your face until you remember the full face of makeup you have on.

“How about a ‘hi’. You’re making this way harder than it has to be, y’know. It’s not like he’s going to be mad at you, I don’t even think he has an angry bone in his body,” your assistant laughs. “Now, can you please finish sulking? The car is waiting downstairs.”

You roll your eyes as you step away from the window and give yourself one last final look in the mirror. You can’t deny the fact that your dress is gorgeous, along with your hair and makeup, making you feel confident and prepared for the dozens of pictures you're about to take.

Your assistant comes up to stand behind you as well, giving you a once-over with a smile. “You look amazing, and I know Austin will feel the same.”

When you arrive at the theatre, there are dozens of fans standing along the barricade waiting for cast members to come over and say hello to them and sign autographs. As you step out of the vehicle, with the help of your driver offering his hand, you notice Austin immediately as he moves down the long line of fans to sign whatever they hand him.

His assistant and publicist are behind him trying to keep an umbrella over his head, but Austin being Austin doesn’t care about the rain messing up his styled hair or his fancy suit and continues to hold conversations as best as he can. That doesn’t stop his team from surrounding him and trying to keep him looking nice for everyone.

You, on the other hand, would like to stay as dry as possible.

The volume of the crowd suddenly rises as everyone notices your arrival, making Austin turn around. His eyes meet yours and for a second you freeze and don’t know what to do. The weather has made him look even better, if that’s even possible, and the wet hair definitely does something to you.

After taking a moment, you finally snap out of it and give him a small smile, which he returns before continuing your walk.

Austin watches from his spot as you walk away, your back towards him. He can’t help but admire and appreciate your appearance, and he can’t wait to tell you how beautiful you are.

That is, if you actually come near him. He’s not completely offended that you’ve gone distant from him over the last couple of days, but he is confused. He knows his feelings for you are reciprocated, so he’s just guessing and hoping that you freaked out over everything.

Austin gets lost in thought for a second before he hears the girl next to him giggle to her friend because they obviously witnessed the whole thing. He clears his throat before smiling at her and signing the action figure of one of his past characters that she hands him. A laugh leaves his lips at the fact that the thing even exists.

Once you meet some fans yourself, it’s time for the interview and photographs part of the premiere, which you’re not completely looking forward to. Austin comes up beside you as you pose in front of the backdrop for the paparazzi and places a hand on your waist.

Under any other circumstances, his touch wouldn’t be bothering you since this isn’t anything new, but now you’re just finding it distracting. His cologne and natural scent fills your nostrils, and you could definitely pass out. You feel yourself start to sweat and your heartbeat begins to beat faster as you try and focus on smiling for the pictures.

All the while, you can see your assistant standing off to the side and smirking at the two of you.

The thought of firing her crosses your mind.

Then, Austin leans down to whisper in your ear, “You look beautiful tonight.” He pulls away as he smiles down at you, and your fake grin for the cameras automatically turns into a genuine one.

You look up at him and muster up ‘thank you’ before quickly looking away. Austin’s gaze lingers on you for a couple seconds more, before looking away as well.

How are you supposed to survive the rest of the night, if you can’t even handle something as small as this?

It eventually comes time for the interviews, and throughout each one all you can think about is body heat radiating off of him onto you as he stands close to you. You feel your face get warm, but that doesn’t mean it’s because of him. It could be from the questions you’re being asked, which you feel are beginning to get repetitive.

Every once in a while, you swear he feels closer than normal, which could easily be written off as Austin just listening to the answers you give.

After everything moves inside, you immediately leave the group to make a beeline for the bathroom – to relieve yourself of course, but to also give yourself a chance to breathe. There’s plenty of time before you have to go on stage along with the rest of the cast – and Austin – so might as well relax, right?

Wrong.

When you finally decide you’ve spent enough time in the bathroom, you leave, only to run into Austin himself, catching you completely off guard. You feel your heart drop.

He’s leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets as he watches you step out. His eyebrows raise at you in curiosity, silently wanting to address the elephant in the room.

“It’s kind of weird for a man to linger outside of the ladies restroom,” you joke, not knowing what else to say.

Austin smirks, “I know, I usually don’t do it, but you gave me no choice – since you’ve been avoiding and all.”

Also, your assistant told him where to find you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

You swallow. “I haven’t.”

“Oh really? Then what do you call what you’ve been doing for the past couple of days?” Austin tilts his head.

“How do you know I didn’t get sick or something? Or maybe I lost my phone, that happens y’know,” you tell him as you fold your arms over your chest.

A few people come walking down the hallway, and Austin waits for them to pass before answering, “Because you always make sure that you have your phone, and you’ve still been posting on social media.”

Oops.

“I thought you didn’t really go on social media,” you point out, your eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s not the point,” he playfully rolls his eyes. He’s about to say something when another group of people walk past, some of them entering the bathroom that you two are still in front of for some reason.

Then Austin motions with his head for you to follow him, which you do. He opens a couple of doors and closes them back before finally finding an empty room for the two of you to talk. He lets you walk in first, his hand on the small of your back, before following and closing the door behind you two.

The space was small and had theatre equipment scattered around. You put some distance in between you and Austin as he turns to face you. If this was any other circumstance, being locked in a room with Austin Butler wouldn’t seem so bad.

Austin runs a hand through his damp hair before stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “So?” he speaks up, wanting you to address the situation.

“So…what?” you ask as you casually look around the room, trying to look at anything but him. You can’t handle his blue eyes burning into your soul at the moment, but then again you never could because it’s Austin.

“You can’t just avoid me forever. What happened to you?” he asks you softly, and you honestly don’t know what to say.

“Hey, I basically shut down after we kissed and now I can’t look you in the eye because I don’t know if what happened that night is actually real. What’s been going on with you?”

Yeah, no.

You feel your ears begin to grow hot and a weird sensation in your stomach as Austin stares you down. He takes a few steps closer to you and moves his head, trying to get you to look at him.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you mumble. Not knowing what to do with your arms, you fold them across your chest once again.

“Talk to me.” He takes another step closer, his expression gentle. “Did I cross a line by kissing you? Did you have a change of heart? What is it?”

“I just–I don’t know, okay?” you say, dramatically throwing your hands in the air.

Then Austin’s eyes squint and he smirks. “You freaked out didn’t you?”

A scoff leaves your mouth because how dare he accuse you of something so true?

You shoot him a glare before saying, “Something like that.”

“I knew it. I know you too well.”

Austin comes closer until he’s standing right in front of you, then takes your hands into his.

“Why didn’t you just come talk to me? We could’ve worked it out.”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing, Austin. Your career is taking off and you're this big celebrity, and I’m just someone at the beginning of their career – a nobody,” you tell him, looking up at him.

Austin’s eyes furrow and the feeling of hurt flashes across his face. “You’re not a nobody, don’t say that. Look where we are right now, at a premiere for a movie that you're the lead in. And who cares about my career, that doesn’t matter. I’m a human just like you. I like you for you.”

“Come on, Austin,” you sigh as you go to back up, but his grip on your hands tighten.

When he’s sure you’re not going to move again, he places his hands on both sides of your face, forcing you to look at him. Forcing you to see him.

“What do I need to do to show you I’m telling the truth?” he asks, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. His voice is low now as his eyes flicker between yours. His feelings about you are genuine and he needs you to notice that.

You get that same feeling in your chest that you felt that night on the hotel rooftop. When the air was silent, and the two of you were put in your own bubble. You remember the way his hands felt on your body as he held you close, so tenderly.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” you admitted, though it was obvious.

“Then get out of your head. Do you really think I would be holding you in this extremely dusty room if I didn’t care for you. You do realize how close we are, right?” he tries to assure you.

How could you not? You could feel his breath on your face everytime he talked. His scent overruled the smell of the tiny room, making it that much easier to focus on him.

“Yeah,” you answer. Your voice is low now too, matching his.

After a beat of silence, Austin says, “Would you run away again, if I kissed you right now?”

You shake your head ‘no’ because there’s no way you can trust your voice right now. Austin waits another moment to see if you would back away, but when you don’t, he leans in to connect your lips with his.

His lips are just like you remembered it, soft and plump, as he moves in sync with you. Your hands move to rest on his chest before slowly moving up to wrap around his neck. You feel Austin smile into the kiss, and you can’t help but do the same. Austin’s hands leave your face before landing on your waist, pulling you even move into him, making sure you were the only air he was breathing.

When the two of you finally have to pull away for some much needed air, your faces still stay close enough for your noses to barely touch.

You feel like you could just stay here and forget the movie premiere, but the idea immediately gets tossed out the window when Austin’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He keeps one hand on your waist as he goes to dig it out, only to reveal text messages from his publicist wondering where the two of you were.

Right as Austin’s thumb moves to text her back, another two pop up.

“Well she’s definitely not happy,” Austin laughs.

“We should get back before she kills you,” you say as you watch the messages roll in.

“Yeah, I guess,” he agrees as he answers his publicist before re-pocketing his phone, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

As he walks you to the door and opens it, you stop to say, “Just for the record, I didn’t run. I would call it more like slowly taking a couple steps back.”

“Whatever you say, just don’t do it again because I will have to chase after you,” he cheeses down at you.

That honestly doesn’t sound too bad.

What were you thinking to avoid this man?

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #the bikeriders

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saleeba · 11 months

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fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off.

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person.

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad.

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends.

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for.

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.”

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it.

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words.

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though.

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other.

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel.

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests.

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again.

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late.

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry.

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head.

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home.

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up.

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision.

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs.

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now.

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely.

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy.

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s.

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.”

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release.

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,”

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste.

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once.

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions.

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones.

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail.

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.”

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

#girlies i’ve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! 🫶🏽#then again i’ve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . 😭😭😭#guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like ‘guys i-i’ve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this 🥺🥺' LMAO #ALSO omg im sorry abt the inconsistencies in tone + tempo i legit wrote this over a 5 month period + came back to it at times when i didnt #feel like writing + i was just tryna get to the good bit iykwim ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °)#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football imagine #footballer smut #footballer imagine

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dambaepuff · 4 months

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hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x female reader

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darthannie · 1 year

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Hi! Can I request Tommy Shelby who loves to spoil his gf and she has a hard time accepting it all but he reassures her in a very loving and protective way (hope you get what I mean lol) thank you! :')

a/n: This is short but I hope I did your idea justice! I just want to see him smile 😭

grand gestures

Thomas Shelby x f!reader

Warnings: Tommy being happy and in love, Tommy’s love language is gift-giving I don’t make the rules, kissing

You had been seeing Thomas Shelby for a while now and he was absolutely smitten. You have never met a man who doted on you as much as he did. Under his hardened exterior was a man longing to love and be loved.

On a particularly cold evening, you arrived home to a surprise. On your bed lay a beautiful new coat you had seen in the shops while out with Tommy. You must have stared at it in the window a little too long. He took that as a sign that you wanted it. You hadn’t even thought to go in and check the price tag, let alone purchase it.

Tommy knew you weren’t used to receiving many gifts so he made it his personal mission to make you comfortable with it. He’d started with a gold bracelet.

You had gasped when he took it out of the small box. “Tommy, you can’t. This is too much.”

“It’s not. Nothing is too much when it comes to you.” It was almost threatening. It sounded like a warning when he said it. It was foolish to underestimate how much you meant to him.

After the bracelet, he began giving you gifts periodically, even things you didn’t need or want. It was difficult for you to understand why he even bothered to give you all those things. Any other woman would welcome new dresses and jewels with open arms. Instead, you just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

You stared at the coat on your bed. Its fur collar was sure to keep you warm, you thought. The gold buttons going down one side shone in the dim light of your bedroom. You held it up and gawked at it. You rubbed your face into the fur and smiled. You didn’t notice, but Tommy was standing in the doorway.

“Why don’t you try it on?” His voice made you jump and you dropped the coat, putting your hands over your heart.

“Jesus, Tommy!” You sighed and laughed. He had been making a habit of being at your home before you were. He usually made himself known somehow, but tonight he decided to be a bit of a prankster.

“Sorry, love, couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, walked towards you, and pulled you in for a kiss. He always kissed you like it was the last time he would be able to.

He pulled away, “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Tommy, but” you looked down at the item of clothing, “you really didn’t have to. Really, you never have to.” You looked back at him and his arms were crossed, his head cocked to the right. He sighed and put his hands on your arms, caressing them.

Looking into your eyes he asked, “Do you love me?”

You replied slightly irritated “I’ve never loved a man more, Tommy, and you know that. I just- I’m not used to you spoiling me like this.”

“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gonna have to get used to it, love. Now, are you my girl?” He was deadly serious. He was never controlling, but you were his and his alone. He wanted to make sure you understood that.

You looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”

His hands held your waist as he pulled you in closer. He kissed you passionately. A small moan escaped. It was intoxicating. After a few moments, you pulled away for air. He put his forehead against yours and gave you a chaste kiss.

“You are worth more than anything I could ever give you. I wish I could give you the world,” he smirked, “the coat is the best I can do for now.”

You smiled softly at him. It would take some more work on your part but you knew that he did it because he cared.

“Thank you, Tommy. I love you.” You gave him a quick kiss.

He pulled away with a smile and said, “I love you, too.”

He reached over to your bed and grabbed the new coat, holding it up for you. You quickly took off your old one and he helped you put your arms through the sleeves of the new one. The inside of the coat felt just as luxurious as the exterior. The fur brushing your neck was comforting and warmed your skin. You stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in your reflection. Tommy stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, holding you flush against him. You turned your head to make eye contact with him.

He whispered, “You look beautiful, my love.”

You had hearts in your eyes, “You make me beautiful, Tommy.”

#annie’s asks #i proofread this but no one is perfect #annie writes #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #peaky blinder fanfic #cillian x reader

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kissitbttr · 7 months

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your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep 😩😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭

oh you are absolutely correct!

“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”

“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,

he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”

he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,

“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,

if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,

but she is scary. can you blame him?

toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.

guess the apology gifts aren’t working,

“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”

she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,

toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,

tonight was an exception though,

all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,

y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.

and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!

something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,

toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?

she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,

toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.

what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.

he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,

bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.

“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,

he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.

“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,

“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone

“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,

he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.

“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”

no answer,

he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,

“baby—“

“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”

toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.

“you don’t mean that”

“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,

“princess, i swear-“

“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,

he can’t take this anymore,

“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,

“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth

“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”

she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”

he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”

#mafia!toji #toji x reader

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slickfordain · 6 months

Note

POOKS I HAVE AN IDEA

Ahem...yandere aiden, logan, tyler n ash or whoever u want w WEAK READER N YK THEY R PRETTY OVERPROTECTIVD OF HER WHY? bc she is fragile af-- always manage to get herself injured in the most dunb ways possible n how tf is she gonna manage to survive in this realm? She needs them ‼️‼️

𝕭𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 // School Bus Graveyard

TW: Yandere themed, NO NSFW, gore/injuries mentioned, fragile!female!reader who is paranoid and anxious, AU explanation-wise writing? It’s kind of short but it’s like an explanation what my SBG x reader AU is;;u ;

You don’t know how you even ended up here in this situation…. Restless sleep, insomnia, hallucinations,— Ah… Who am I kidding? You knew exactly what was happening and it all started way back when you were ordered to tutor around the new students. Being the one who wasn’t new, it was hard to keep a conversation with them because….. One would keep her distance away, one would be thrilled to nag the girl who distanced away, the twins didn’t give a damn, and… Ben and Logan were probably the only ones who ever offered to listen to you.

However despite those hours you eventually got to bond with them, all because of… Well…. You tripping down the stairs all of the sudden until Ashlyn caught you. And that’s where the spark happened… That’s what clicked in Ashlyn’s mind to suddenly want to protect you, with you in her arms looking hopeless and defenseless. The group claimed you as their pink princess but, you didn’t thought much of it….

And why they even bother to call you that, you still felt loved at least by your friends.

But… Every time you walk home after hanging out with them, especially on that trip, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The thought of that hideous creature behind Ashlyn…. You haven’t left your house since then, and gave excuses to your teacher even for him to understand.

You’ve never felt anything weird like this before… The ones you are looking to avoid were mostly creepy men, or just in general a group of people who you think could possibly bully you, or take advantage.

So why? Why did you suddenly have to endure horror?

❝[NAME]!!!❞

You’ve impaled yourself on accident by trying to get away from a monster, you’ve tripped and fallen into a dark void where you died by the fall, you even somehow died by trying to save Tyler, but you ended up dying anyways! It was getting so… So much harder…

You’ve gotten injured. Over, and over, and over again. It’s pissing Ashlyn, Aiden, Tyler— everyone off. It was as if they saw life flash before their eyes…. And while you’re alive in the real world, with no scratches or injuries, they couldn’t afford to lose you again. To make you hopeless, to make you unable to walk.

It was another dream, another dream where suddenly you’re locked in the bird cage Aiden had somehow decided to buy… You stared confused, yearning for an explanation…. But the boys and girls wouldn’t give you any.

❝Guys..? Please… I thought we were a team..❞

❝Princess… We are! We swear…! Please don’t take it badly! We’re doing this for your own good…❞

You couldn’t really argue with them. You’re just tired and you have been unable to get proper sleep… You suppose it’s okay but… It wasn’t getting better as you thought it would. Despite dreams having you only locked up every now and then, in the morning in reality- you are FOLLOWED constantly by either the twins, Ashlyn, Aiden, or Ben… Logan? Probably cameras in your house (not your bedroom or bathroom) to ensure you made it home safely.

It’s getting out of hand. It’s going bizarre, but are you doing something about it? NO! Their parents scares you! You don’t want to break your friendship either… You knew how easily broken they’d be… And… You don’t want to handle or deal with Aiden’s family, nor do you wanna karate with Ashlyn’s mother. You can’t even fight!

So the only thing you could do was just… Accept it as it is. And let it be… Although you probably aren’t aware that the parents adores you, finding you so sweet and matchable for their little children. You don’t pay attention to that, all you could focus on were your eyebags and your injured body…. There wasn’t anything, reality-wise, but God it stung that you could barely make it through school. Even though I kind of said you give excuses…. You still had to do exams for at least collage….

Don’t take them wrong, they’d love for you to stay safe and to not join the horror attraction… But also, after the reveal when the parents could also see the demonic creatures, it instantly clicks that you weren’t safe. Nor were your parents. (Don’t give a damn about your parents, they don’t like them)

They need you. They constantly need you. They can’t have you out of your cage, but they can’t have you out of the dreams as well…. Which considers leading it to having you as some sort of a motivation. They need you to support them for everything they do.

So when the parents are going into that situation, it’s best to believe they NEED you with them so nobody in reality can kidnap you while they’re asleep…. Fighting off monsters, you know?

And the shady guys? Do not worry a single thing about them at all.

I mean, what more could you possibly do than to be stuck in your own bedroom or classroom? You’re going nowhere near the stores or arcade. Not after that Logan incident, that is….

#various x reader #various #yandere x reader #school bus graveyard x you #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard

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coeurify · 1 year

Note

I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real

UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!

⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)

⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)

⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.

⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”

⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”

⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”

⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.

⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.

⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.

⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.

⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.

⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.

⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”

⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.

⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.

⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.

⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.

⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”

⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.

⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.

⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.

⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”

⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”

⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.

⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.

⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”

⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.

⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.

⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.

⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?

#rins reqs ❀.#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff

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fictioninmyblood · 10 months

Text

I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N.

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged.

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in your time. She’s been far more patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive.

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked.

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own.

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised.

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member.

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out.

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him. Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?”

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.”

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely.

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted.

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

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destinyisastar · 7 days

Text

❤ Static Heart ❤

Summary: You land in heaven, but you suddenly hear static that no one else hears. You chose to follow the sound, where will it lead you?

Alastor x Wife Reader

(Read Static Death as a prequel to this story!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Soft, everything felt soft and very …. heavy?

Why is everything white?

You grab your face feeling for anything different…. no, nothing wrong there.

But why does your back feel heavy.

You twist your head and are met with a pair of wings on your back. White, beautiful, large wings.

“What… what is this?” You stand up from your spot on the (fluffy?) ground.

You turn you head around and see a line of …people… yes people with wings.

Walking towards the end of the line you tap a woman’s shoulder, and she turns around.

“Um, I’m sorry but what exactly is going on?”

“Oh, dear haven’t you figured it out yet?” She says looking at you glumly.

“No, No I haven’t figured anything out!” You feel yourself start to shake. “One moment I was in bed and now I’m here!” You feel like crying.

The woman starts to rub your arms, “Its okay, your okay,” she looks around for a moment. “I just got here myself, but I do believe we are at the gates of heaven.”

The gates of heaven? Did I die? How did I die? Heavens real?!

You feel a sense of panic, you feel your breath running out of you. You place a hand on your chest.

“Deep breaths…. breath in……. breath out…that’s right everythings fine. You don’t have a thing to worry about anymore.” She tells you in a soothing voice.

Your breathing comes back at a normal pace. “Thank you, miss. I just don’t understand how I got here.”

“It’s all right, I was a bit shocked myself, with the wings and finally seeing heaven. My names Josephine Wright.”

“My names Y/n Hartfelt.”

Josephine smiles at you, “Can’t believe there’s actually a heaven, I mean you hear about it my never really expect to see it!”

You nod, your mind still not accepting the fact that you are in fact dead.

How am I dead?

Josephine continues to ramble on about her life, her children she hopes to see, wondering if her dogs, Brownie and Gravy, are in heaven too.

You cross your arms together slightly shuffling. Then you hear it.

Static.

It’s overcoming your ears, and you turn around to find the source.

“Hey, hey everything all right?”

You look back towards her, “Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The static.”

Josephine looks around, “No, I haven’t heard a thing. Maybe it’s your ears still getting used to this place. I’m still getting use to how bright it is here.”

Maybe it is, but the static….

It’s getting louder.

“Hey, do you have anyone you’re waiting for?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I told you who I’m expecting to see but you haven’t told me much about you.”

You take a moment, “My husband… but I don’t think he’ll be here.” You mumble the last part, placing your hands over your heart.

“Hmm?”

“No, I just... my husband, he… he died before me.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear, he might just be waiting for your return beyond those gates.”

The static is louder than before.

“I think I’m going to walk around a bit…”

“Oh, I can save your spot while you walk, the line doesn’t look like it’ll get any shorter, specially since that little guy in the front keeps singing.”

“Yes... thank you, Josephine.”

You decided to walk towards the static.

With each step you take the static grows incredibly louder. You can hardly see Josephine anymore.

Static, why is there static in heaven?

You find a hole in the ground, but the hole is filled with red. Nothing like the bright shining light in heaven. It seems to be where the static is emitting from.

You kneel near the hole placing your hands around the edges.

“What is this?”

You stick your head in the hole, and it feels…. hot. There seems to be a whole city down there with darker colors compared to heaven’s light.

The static… it sends shivers through your body.

“It’s coming from down here…”

You push yourself closer into the hole.

“The static is louder down here.”

You push yourself more until... you fall.

You feel your wings flap rapidly.

You scream but the ground is still getting closer, covering your face with your hands.

Then you feel the ground on your feet.

Your breathing is uneven, and you feel your body for an injuries.

“Okay, okay, I’m okay, I’m alive…...well dead alive…. alive dead?” You shake your head.

The static now courses through your body sounding louder than ever before.

It doesn’t seem that far from where you landed.

You stick your head out from the alleyway, and you see …. creatures.

There seems to be two lizards bashing each other’s heads, there a fox fellow smashing glass, gunshots filling the air, and... and is that a blimp with a cannon?!

You back into the alley, what is this place. Wait… if up there was heaven does that mean… that… this is hell?

You still hear the static and feel the need to get there. Something is pulling towards the sound.

Your feet lead you through the twists and turns of the alleyway. It seems never ending.

It seems to be getting darker, you feel yourself shaking.

Why do I feel nervous?

“NO, NO NO NO NO NO PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!! FUCK!! DON’T KILL ME PLE—”

Blood splatters on your dress.

Dead. Someone’s dead.

Someone died in front of you, but you stand still.

They’re dead and you’re just standing.

Run, why don’t you RUN????

The static stills you.

“Well, I didn’t know I had an observer….” The voice sounds like a radio, it sounds… familiar.

You can’t see who’s talking but the static, you know it’s coming from the voice.

“Did you come for a free show? Hmmmm…” The voice is getting closer.

The voice comes from beneath you seemingly from the darkness below.

This being, it towers over you.

“Its not polite to not make eye contact with someone who is speaking to you.” He tilts your chin up to face him.

The static stops.

You both look into each other’s eyes.

The being has a monocle, a pair of horns on his dark red hair with fluffy ears.

Even with all the changes, he’s still the man you fell in love with.

“Alastor… is that you?” you quietly ask.

He places his hands on your face, “Y/n?” The radio tone in his voice stops as he rubs his thumb along your cheek.

“Yes… it’s me my love.” You take one of his hands holding your cheeks and kiss it softly.

“What, what are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I heard static noises from up there. I decided to follow the sound and…. it led me to you.” You look back up at your loving husband.

“Why did you… why did you kill them? Why did you leave me?” You begin to sob, your hands forming fist, and you begin to bash them into his chest.

“I never felt more lonely in my life, when you died if felt like I was being split into two.”

Alastor doesn’t stop you from hitting him.

“Why!?”

He starts to rub your back feeling your wings, caressing them softly.

Alastor faces you back towards him, wiping your tears.

“Dearest there are many things you don’t know about me. But one thing that I’ve never hid from you is my love.”

Your crying stops.

“You shouldn’t be down here and even so you shouldn’t be dead so soon.”

You don’t say anything.

He pulls you closer. “I love you more than anything.”

You wrap your arms around him, “I missed you so much.”

Alastor kisses your forehead. “Now my dear, let’s go home.”

Smiling you push yourself closer to his face and with understanding your actions Alastor moves forward.

A kiss so sweet death can no longer break you apart ever again.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm still working on the Vox and Alastor story so in the meantime have this. I'll try to post once a day:)

Word Count: 1342

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x wife reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader angst

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imababblekat · 1 year

Text

Pushing Buttons

Anon Request, “ Love your content it’s sooo cute! Can I get a snarky sarcastic reader who calls April for a chat on speaker phone then gets into a funny argument with Ralph trading jabs. Like he tries to get April to hang up because their in the middle of something important but reader gives him a snappy comeback. They keep going with everyone listening. Tired of this April is gonna hang up on them but before that happens “Wait wait! give that guys digits he sounds hot! You know how I love pushing a guys buttons!”

A/N: I hope this is okay, gonna be honest I struggled to write this one for some reason. Hope it’s still at the very least readable \TvT/

~xXx~

April hadn’t meant to answer the phone, but Mikey curiously nudging into her had caused her to ultimately accept your request. As if to make a point at your horrible timing as April and the boys were in the mist of a game plan to take down a new gang, you’re voice rang loud through the speaker causing everyone to simultaneously jump.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!! April you are not going to believe what happened to me at work today!!”

April sighed, giving the ninja turtles apologetic glances.

“I can’t really talk right-”

“I’ll make it quick! I swear! Okay, so I got up at seven like I usually do, right? I was really tired though, so I went to snooze my alarm and-”

Before April could politely ask you to skip ahead to what had happened at your job, the human girl was thrown for a shock when Raphael had suddenly snatched the device straight out of her hand. She went to reprimand him but all he had done was hold a large hand up to block her as he angrily snapped into the call.

“She’s busy. Call back later.”

*click*

April’s eyes had never been as wide as they were in that moment. No way did Raphael just hang up on you of all people. Said terrapin, with a triumphant grin, reached out to hand her back the phone, when it had suddenly started going off again right in his palm. If it weren’t for the growing agitation, he could have sworn it seemed to vibrate with a vengeance. With a hard tap, he answered the call ready to repeat what he had done only a few minutes ago.

“I said-”

“Excuse me!!”

Raphael felt himself fumble at your sudden shout, April standing across from him with a knowing look.

“And who the hell do you think you are, huh?! You do not cut me off when I am talking to my gal pal!!”

Raphael sputtered, caught off for but a second before snapping back.

“Who do I-?! April’s busy! I’m sure whatever little issue you got goin on at work ain’t that important!”

“Oh, and how would you know that?! You read minds huh?! I’d ask if you’re some sort of phycologist but frankly just from your voice alone I’d say you’re need of one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“I think you know what I mean, big boy.”

Raphael felt his blood boiling in that moment, his brothers Mikey and Donnie doing their best to stifle their laughter behind him while Leo simply smirked at his dismay. All the while all April could do was hide her face in her hands at the embarrassment she felt for her close friend on the line.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Would you rather I call you big baby instead? Ya gonna cry about it? Good, cuz sounds to me like you need to shed a few tears. It’s perfectly healthy by the way. Just thought I’d let you know that since you give off the vibe that you’d rather walk around with a stick up your ass then express your emotions.”

“A stick up my ass?! Seriously?! How about I come over and shove one up yours?! You’re just all bark and no bite!”

“Ooo, don’t promise me with a good time~.”

If it were possible, Raph’s face would match the color of his mask at your raunchy response, the suave to your tone not making things any better. It was at the sudden burst of laughter behind him from his brothers and Aprils own snickering that the brute decided in that moment the best course of action was to, once again, hang up the damn phone.

A groan bubbled up from his throat at he tossed April back her phone, sending a glare to his still cackling siblings.

“Will ya all stop laughin. Let’s just get back to the stupid plan.”, he glared, arms crossing.

It was Leo, who had to take a few breaths to gather himself, that brought back the others to focus.

“Okay, okay, you heard the big boy. Let’s ready up.”

Green eyes glared daggers at the leader in blue for his jab, the other winking back with a shit eating grin. Raphael stepped forward to make a quip in response to Leo, when a chortle behind him had alerted all the turtles. It was from April, who’s eyes crinkled in the corners as she did her best to bite back some giggles, holding up her phone to show what had caused such a reaction out of her. Each brother leaned in, squinting at the small text on screen and then let out more laughter, Mikey rocking a groaning Raph’s shoulders with congratulations.

On the screen before them, read a text sent by the very person who riled him up quicker then anyone on record.

*Hey girly, you gotta get me your friends digits! Dude sounds hot af 😉💗*

~xXx~

#bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #aged up tmnt #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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1binkiss · 1 month

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𐙚˙✧˖°⋆ riize cock warming shotaro, eunseok, sungchan

synopsis: you always wanted to try cock warming, so you ask them if you can try it, but whoever can’t stay still will have to do to the other whatever they want.

warning: smut [MINORS DNI]

★ shotaro

at first, shotaro ,wouldn’t know what were you talking about, so you had to explain it to him.

once then he would fully accept saying ‘anything to make you happy honey’.

you decided you would do it in bed, while he spoons you.

after taking off your clothes you would get into bed and shotaro would hug you from behind, leaving some wet kisses on your shoulders

‘are you ready?’ he whispered as he pressed his tip into your cunt.

oh yeah, you were ready to win

or thats what you thought

shotaro was already hard as a rock when he started to delicately get inside you

when he was fully inside you he let a sigh come out of his mouth while he wrapped his arms around your body

he let his head rest in one of your shoulders and kissed your cheek

‘and now we are not supposed to move? its gonna be hard…’

and yes it was

hearing shotaro whimpering near your ear was just turning u on more than you already were

he would do a little move time to time and that would drive you crazy, walls clenching around him.

you didn’t expect him to snooze, giving you an unintentional thrust, making you let a moan come out of your mouth

‘oh god…’ it was over for you

‘what are you…? oh’ will be shotaro’s reaction as you started to moving your hips.

‘i lose shotaro, now, please fuck me’

★ eunseok

‘is this a bet? im sure i can win’ he would say while smirking

he is always so competitive over everything

and also so confident

which honestly turned you on

he let you choose the position, so you choose facing each other

that was the worst decision you could ever make

once both of you were prepared, eunseok approached to you, you putting one of your legs above his

without any warning he slid his dick inside you in a thrust, making you whine

you looked at him, knowing damn well he did that on purpose

he looked directly into your eyes and placed his hand on your cheek, starting to caress it softly

‘you are so wet for me doll’

‘i bet you were soaking wet just thinking about me, am i right?’

he spoke in a deep and soft voice, knowing how hot did you think that was

‘are you sure you can handle this? you know i can make you a mess only by talking to you’

and he was right

‘i can feel you clenching around me as i talk princess, you know you only have to say the words’

you were starting to lose your mind. you could feel how eunseok was getting bigger inside you but he seemed as peaceful as always, looking at you with a side smile on his face

‘do you want me to make a mess out of you? i would make you beg for more…’

‘please’

you just couldn’t take it anymore

‘what’s wrong doll? do you need something?’

‘fuck me eunseok, please’

★ sungchan

oh he would LOVE the idea

how come you haven’t tried before?

any idea in which he was inside you was a yes for him

as you were on the couch, you decided that the best position to try it was you being on top on him

as he slid his dick inside you, you could already hear him groan while putting his hands on your waist

‘oh baby you are so tight…’

he then would approach you and start kissing you desperately

oh, he was so needy

he then deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours

he just couldn’t help and started to move your hips with his hands

‘sungchan… you can’t do that’ you whispered in his lips

he would look at you with innocent eyes in silence, he was starting to lose his mind

his hands reached the edge of your shirt, taking it off in a second

then he approached his tongue to one of you nipples, licking it softly

that felt really nice, but you couldn’t lose

at least not in the first five minutes

as you were whining over sungchan’s tongue, you could feel how he started to move his hips against

“sungchan stop, that’s not what you supposed—“

“move” he didn’t let you finish

“what?”

“move princess, i lose, but please move”

not even 5 minutes.

#riize smut #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #1binkiss hard hours #wonbin smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #shotaro hard hours #shotaro smut #sohee smut #anton smut #seunghan smut

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tanoraqui · 2 months

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you’ve heard of Her Divine Highness Gideon the First, First Daughter of the House of God, and all the compelling, often Fake Dating-laced AUs that might follow. But have you considered...Gideon Jr. Dve, favored daughter of the First, heir of Gideon the First, Saint of Duty?

the timeline diverges at 2 points:

Gideon (ours) inherits her mother’s perfectly normal dark brown eyes

Gideon (lyctor) follows the escape pod to Ninth House, arrives to find Wake’s corpse and living baby, to the bemusement of all the locals is like, “yes, that’s mine” and takes said baby back to the Mithraeum to confess his sins and beg forgiveness

the conversation that follows goes like this:

Gideon 1: I am so sorry, John, I don’t know what came over me, Wake was just...really hot. She’s dead now. But, um, this is our daughter, and I feel duty-bound to raise her, or at least see that she’s raised well - but it’s your call, of course (again, I’m sorry for sleeping with the enemy for over a decade)

JohnGod, vibrating at a frequency known only to necromantic immortals who maybe swallowed a sun or something: N I E C E ? !

Augustine, Mercy, and maybe Cytherea, exchanging frantic eye contact behind the other two’s heads: Is that the baby? / I don’t know! I thought you were keeping track of it! / I don’t know! Can’t you tell!? / Are they keeping it? / What the fuck are we going to do about this?!

So, Gideon (Jr.) grows up in the Mithraeum, which needless to say is a fucking weird place to grow up.

this au is dependent on the assumption that none of these millennia-old necromancers can identify the thanergic/thalergic weirdness of the biological daughter of God on slight, so, just accept that. Maybe children of lyctors (I refuse to believe there haven’t been any before) are a little Like That anyway? The Conspirators do learn the truth pretty fast, DNA test or something, but they quickly decide that stealing the baby and running for the Ninth is a terrible plan, and G1deon and God have to let her out from underfoot eventually. They’ll wait.

the Ninth had already named her Gideon. Gideon 1 tries to change this, but alas, his terrible immortal friends all think it’s hilarious and call her Gideon Jr, or “Junior” or “Giddy” for short.

Cytherea is undoubtably the Cool Aunt, and also Giddy’s first crush

(neither Mercy nor Augustine want to touch children on account of potential stickiness, ruling them firmly out)

JohnGod makes so many Godfather jokes in a terrible Italian mobster accent, which Giddy then imitates with equal inability to mimic an accent, which either produces something completely unrecognizable as old-Earth Italian mobster OR somehow loops back around to being a perfect impression of Don Corleone

Pyrrha tries to resist the urge to check in, but fails, particularly around bedtime (usually a private father/daughter tucking-in ritual). Giddy, with the uncomfortable insight for a toddler, quickly grasps that Sunglasses Dad is a different persona than Normal Dad. Sunglasses Dad swears her to utmost secrecy about this, and she keeps the oath...almost entirely

she does let it slip to Normal Dad, who...

listen, G1deon has been concealing his mysterious lapses in awareness from God and his fellow lyctors for centuries; he’s not going to stop now. And he MUST have had suspicions about what caused them; he’s not an idiot. But he would, I think, be a responsible father.

So when 7yo Gideon Jr. lets slip about her interactions with Sunglasses Dad - which she definitely doesn’t realize is a whole different person; she probably thinks it’s a weird character her dad acts as sometimes, like how Uncle God will play pretend as a mobster, pirate, horse, etc. When Gideon Jr. lets slip, Gideon Sr. sits her down with his daughter, gets her to tell him about Sunglasses Dad, and admits that, uh, yeah, sure, it’s a fun game they play together, and still very secret from everyone else...and if ‘Sunglasses Dad’ ever makes her feel scared, or god forbid hurts her, she should run away and find Uncle God and tell him everything immediately.

(Because he has suspicions, he must have suspicions, especially at this point...but just in case he’s wrong, he’ll confess to this centuries-old secret rather than let any harm befall his daughter. It’s the only right thing to do.)

Some Actual Plot Maybe, IDK?:

when Gideon Jr. is 13, her father finally agrees to enroll her in the Cohort Academy for Gifted Officers-To-Be, or whatever its called. Gideon Sr. has a quiet word with the current head of Second House and Gideon Jr. enrolls incognito, and rolls up to this place with

- sword skills trained since birth with fucking lyctors

- an uncanny ability to survive should-be-deadly wounds

- the social skills of someone who has never spoken with anyone under the age of several millennia

- probably slightly more respect for, like, the concept of authority/order/duty/not being a smartass 24/7 than the canon Gideon we know and love...BUT she has also literally never suffered a consequence in her life, and...you know how Miles Vorkosigan’s insubordination habits are based partly in that for the first 18 years of his life, his commanding officers, essentially, were 2 of the most competent people on Barrayar? God Himself used to give Gideon horsey rides. Gideon might try, politely, to be impressed by the commander-instructor glaring at her personally, but she is...not.

- gay

[insert a full YA novel’s worth of coming-of-age shenanigans here, absolutely ft. Judith Deuteros and Marta Dyas as soon-friends]

AND THEN ONE DAY, JOD SENDS OUT AN INVITATION to the heir of the Nine Houses inviting them to the First...

now, Gideon does not have a single drop of necromantic ability. She never has. So she wants to be a cavalier so bad...

but even Gideon, sword bimbo that she is, couldn’t grow up with The lyctors and not notice that... Well, no one really talks about their cavaliers, except when Mercy and Augustine fight about them. There is a grieving, sucking wound where every lyctoral cavalier should be.

she still tried so hard to be one. Judith very nearly agreed to have her even over <3Marta<3 (whom they were both madly crushing on). Then Gideon had one of her rare meetings with her father (he’d swing by the Cohort Academy sometimes and they’d get lunch), and told him about it all excitedly, and he flatly forbade it. And then he went over her head and flatly forbade it to the Cohort.

so there’s something Weird going on there, or at least there’s something being unfairly forbidden to Gideon like birds are forbidden to the indoor cat staring out the window, eagerly lashing its tail.

so she hatches a Plan:

- 1. Stow away on Judith & Marta’s ship to Dominicus - 2. ??? - 3. Profit!

when she sees Cytherea there, she thinks, Oh shit, I’m busted.

fortunately, she’d waited until everyone else had disembarked and gone inside before she snuck off the ship, so Cytherea doesn’t see her. So now it’s up to Gideon to sneak around, make friends with the heirs of the Houses, and recruit them into helping her not get caught by her aunt! Who she assumes is here specifically to catch her out...or maybe to covertly oversee the trials...? Hey what is up with this place anyway?

(It’s fortunate because as soon as Cytherea sees Gideon, she’s going to change her plan to “kill everyone immediately, except Giddy, whom I take to the Ninth and exsanguinate to open that damn tomb.”)

(Unfortunately, once like 5 people have died, Gideon is likely to honorably reveal herself in order to ask Cytherea for help, because CLEARLY something has gone terribly wrong. This can’t really be part of the trials, right? Uncle God wouldn’t do that.)

#locked tomb #locked tomb trilogy #gideon nav #ficlet #my fic #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #i've had this mostly finished in my drafts for YEARS

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