#i don’t know why it’s so terrifying. they’re just words. i mean they’re not. they’re not baseless threats. ive learned that from experience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arieslost · 11 days

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waking up from a nightmare, literally gasping for air and in seconds charles is by your side and holding you close. he’s whispering in your ear, trying to soothe you and is wiping your tears with his thumb bye i love my little precious leclerc

“my little precious leclerc” actually made me tear up i hope u know. i adore him

wake me up | cl16

you wouldn’t call it a recurring nightmare. more like a nightmare that started one night, years ago, and kept getting worse and worse as time went on, layers of hurt and fear and heartbreak settling on top of each other every time your subconscious displayed it in all its horrid glory. you can’t even pinpoint what the worst part about it is anymore.

it used to be waking up alone. by yourself, in your pitch black room, was almost as bad as being asleep and experiencing the nightmare. there was never anything to distract you from the feeling of tears sliding down your cheeks, your heart still racing from fear, your eyes conjuring up flashes of the nightmare even though you were awake.

now it’s waking up next to charles, wanting to wake him up, desperately craving the comfort that only he can give you, but refusing to do so because of how hard he works. you won’t deprive him of his sleep, certainly not for something as trivial as a stupid nightmare. especially because he has trouble falling asleep most nights; always thinking about things he might have forgotten to do, his schedule for the next day, the next race weekend, when he can get you your all access pass.

you always tell him not to worry about you, that he has enough on his plate and you knew that when you said yes to being his girlfriend. this, your nightmare, is certainly much more trivial than making sure you have a paddock pass for a race weekend. this isn’t even real. it doesn’t matter.

so when you sleep horribly because of it, and charles notices (because of course he does), you just brush it off, saying you couldn’t get comfortable, you were too hot, too cold, whatever excuse you can think up on a whim.

“you should’ve woken me up, amore.” it’s what he says every. single. time.

and you know he means it. that he truly wants you to wake him up so he can care for you in whatever capacity he possibly can. you just can’t bring yourself to do it because of this.

this time, though, you don’t have a choice.

there’s another terrifying layer to your nightmare tonight. you’re lucid to some degree, enough to know that you should have the ability to wake yourself up from this subconscious plane, but you’re incapable of doing so. you tell your eyes to open, but they’re glued shut like they have to see this through to the end, even though you know how this ends.

you fight, and fight, and fight, until finally, your eyes fly open, tears flooding your vision and a ragged gasp tearing its way out of your throat as you scramble into an upright position. the commotion wakes charles immediately, and he doesn’t even ask what’s going on before he springs into action.

“breathe, baby,” he murmurs softly, gathering you into his arms. “listen to my heartbeat.”

you’re trembling, trying your hardest to calm down as you instantly melt into his embrace, his warmth spreading into your limbs and working to ease the tension you didn’t know they were holding.

“i-i—” you try to say, your mouth struggling to form the words.

“shh, it’s okay. i’ve got you, i’m right here.” he whispers, kissing your forehead and running his hands along the backs of your own.

“i’m sorry,” you say finally, nuzzling your face into his neck and breathing in his comforting scent.

“don’t apologize,” he replies firmly. “is this why you’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

you nod slowly, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“why didn’t you ever wake me up?”

“i just...” you sigh, shifting closer to him and tilting your face towards him as he reaches to wipe your tears. “it’s stupid. i’ve been having this nightmare for years now, and it just keeps getting worse. this time, i couldn’t wake up. usually i just wake up and deal with it. you work so hard every day, and this really isn’t important—”

“i’m going to stop you right there, amore,” charles interrupts, cupping your face with both hands. “i don’t ever want you to say that anything you’re going through isn’t important.”

“but—”

“yes, i do work hard. i have a lot going on more often than not. but out of everything, i work hardest for this. us. do you know what the most important thing in my life is?”

“ferrari?” you answer immediately, only half joking.

“no, ma drôle de fille,” he laughs, “it’s you. i’m going to retire from racing one day, but i’m going to be with you until the day i die. and even after that.”

you feel yourself tearing up for a whole new reason.

“so don’t tell me that it’s not important,” he continues, leaning back into the pillows and bringing you with him. “if it’s bothering you, it bothers me too. you hear me?”

you nod.

“and you’ll wake me up next time?”

you nod again.

“good. now close your eyes. keep listening to my heartbeat. i’ll fight off the nightmares for you, okay amore?”

“you are so cheesy, cha,” you grumble, snuggling into his chest.

“shh, go to sleep,” he coos quietly, stifling a laugh as he pets your hair.

you shut your eyes dutifully, focusing in on the steady beat of his heart, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

you dream of him.

word count: 907

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note: every charles leclerc request i get makes my heart soar because not only do i get to write about my favorite driver but i also get to improve on said writing THANK U ANON

ma drôle de fille = “my funny girl” (i hope)

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bucksangel · 2 months

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Honeysuckle

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 3

word count: 4k

summary: “Honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

or - your Alphas take such good care of you. their mere presence brightens up your day, so when your Alphas have a rough day you take it upon yourself to show them how good of an Omega you can be, that you can provide for them too.

warnings: 18+, mild suggestive thoughts, i apologize to ur dentists bc there’s so much fluff it might give you a toothache, omega is very shy and awkward but steve and bucky are fond and patient, fluff, kissing, tw for steve using 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, bucky needs some lovin’

a/n: this is dedicated to the loml @buckysbarne and @buckysprettybaby who also helped beta <3

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

“Babe -“ Bucky sighs, his head hanging low and hands clenched into tight fists. “I’ll be okay.”

Steve huffs, walking up to his boyfriend and wrapping one arm around his Alphas waist, cupping his cheek with his other hand.

“It’s okay, she’ll understand,” Steve whispers softly, leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his mate’s forehead before pulling back and guiding Bucky to look up at him. He quickly dips his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.

“What if she doesn’t?” Bucky mumbles, shame and embarrassment flooding his body.

Why can’t he just be normal?

The day started horribly; Bucky woke up at around seven in the morning from a particularly harrowing nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, so it was very unwelcoming. This one, unlike other nightmares he’s had, was terrifying in a way he’d never felt.

He knows they’re gone, that Hydra and its agents have been obliterated, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t occasionally get anxious over the ‘what ifs’ of any potential harm Steve could go through should Hydra get him.

This ‘what if’ manifested in the form of you getting captured too. Even if he and Steve haven’t mated with you yet, they both know in their bones that you were crafted by any gods that exist to complete them. And the thought of you and Steve getting taken from him is far worse than anything Hydra could ever do to him.

Steve had to shake him awake, and he hadn’t been able to stop crying long enough to explain what had happened. After ten minutes of shaking and sobbing into his mate’s chest, he was finally able to articulate the horrifying images that now plague his mind, Steve had held him close, and he had kissed his cheeks and forehead and hairline, all while cooing words of affirmation and love.

The day only got worse from there. After the dream, it started with small things; he burned his hand while trying to make coffee - then spilled the coffee all over his favorite shirt. He ran out of his shampoo and had to use Steve’s - and, listen, Bucky is fully convinced that he survived Hydra because the universe wanted them together again, but Steve could definitely use some better shower products. The whole ‘two-in-one’ thing just doesn’t cut it for Bucky.

But then they had to meet up with their teammates for a briefing over a mission that Bucky is really not excited about, and found out the original one-day mission was going to be three days. Three whole days without you? Luckily Steve is coming with him, but then he thought about you being without both of them and started getting anxious. Now, even though you all haven’t been together for long, and they both know you can handle yourself, they detest the idea of leaving you for an extended period.

They’d managed to sneak in a few texts to you. Wishing you a good day at work, sending heart emojis when you send them a picture of a cute dog you saw while walking to the studio - Sam and Natasha spent a long time trying to get the men to understand modern language - and sending you pictures of them while they were too bored to listen to Tony talk.

But then they went to a coffee shop intending to grab their coffee and rush back to their apartment to get a few things so they could pick you up from work and take you to the new ice cream shop that opened up a few blocks from your studio. Dark clouds came rushing overhead while they were waiting for their drinks, and they decided to wait out the storm in a corner booth.

But people were staring, giving them - mainly Bucky - nervous glances, and a few people at the table next to them ate quicker than someone usually would and then placed a wad of cash on the table before rushing out.

Suddenly the idea of getting ice cream doesn’t sound so appealing.

Steve noticed because he’s so attuned to his mate that he knows Bucky is dejected, Bucky is hurt, he’s tired. Tired of people still judging him. Tired of being accused of things that he had no control over. They didn’t stay long, deciding that getting soaked while racing home was better than being in a place that’s now making Bucky feel unsafe.

Bucky’s been fighting with himself ever since they got home and changed out of their wet clothes. He wants to spend time with you more than anything, and you’ve been excited about this date ever since they told you, and Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t give you anything you want. But he really doesn’t think he can handle being in public right now.

His body is hurting with how bad he’s trying to force the negativity out of his mind enough so he can enjoy being with you, but it’s hard. And Steve telling him that you’ll understand that he can’t go out breaks him. His fists clench tighter.

Bucky wants to be normal for you. He wants to go out with his mates and not get worried about getting less-than-friendly looks at the three of you.

“I’m going to call her,” Steve says calmly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him in tight while Bucky’s body starts to shake with how badly he wants to cry. “I’ll call her and I’ll tell her that you’re not feeling well, but we’ll go to her studio tomorrow for lunch. Okay?”

Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath before nodding, trying his hardest to not blame himself when he imagines the look on your face as Steve tells you they have to cancel. Steve kisses his mate's forehead and then untangles himself so he can get his phone.

It doesn’t take long for you to answer, and Bucky can hear your chipper “Hi Stevie!” and suddenly he wants to cry harder. He also hears Steve telling you that Bucky isn’t feeling well and that they’ll come visit you tomorrow. You go quiet for a moment before asking Steve to pass the phone to your other Alpha. And when Bucky mumbles, “Hey, honey,” he knows you can hear that he’s holding back tears.

“Hi, Alpha,” Your sweet voice immediately fills him with warmth, images of your smile filling his head. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No,” Bucky clears his throat, trying to force himself to not feel bad about it. “I’m really sorry, honey. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

You pause, and suddenly Bucky is worried that you’re mad. But before his mind can spiral into more negative thoughts, your voice - soft and shy - asks if he’s home. And when he tells you that he is, you simply say “good,” and then hang up.

Well, fuck. Bucky tries to convince himself that you’re not upset, but Steve can see that it’s not working well. And at his boyfriend's suggestion of a nap, he trudges upstairs, lying down in bed and wishing upon every star in the universe that you’ll forgive him.

____________

When you heard that Bucky wasn’t feeling well you immediately thought of the worst. Is he sick? Well, that doesn’t make sense, he’s a super soldier after all. Is he hurt? That’s a possibility, their jobs are tough.

Does he… not want to see you? As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you dismiss it. Bucky and Steve have shown over and over that they like you and want to be with you. The word ‘love’ flashes through your mind but you dismiss that as well. It’s too soon, right?

No matter what’s actually going on, you know you need to make him feel better. As soon as you hung up the phone you gathered everything you needed to make apple pies. But then you faltered, what if he doesn’t like apple pie? Well, you have things to make brownies, and you know both Alphas love them. So you took out everything needed to make brownies with the intention of bringing them over when they were done.

But then a thought popped up. Would they even want you in their house? There were a few times when you told them they could come inside your apartment while you finished getting ready for a date night, but they politely declined. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now you’re worried you might be crossing a line.

You’ve just put the mixture in the oven when you decide that you’ll just drop them off and then leave. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well. While the brownies cook, you run to your bedroom to change into somewhat presentable clothes. You don’t bother getting all dressed up since you’re not going anywhere but your Alphas’ place, and even then you won’t be staying long.

By the time the dessert is done and put into a container, you’ve talked yourself in and out of going several times. Finally, after several minutes of having a mild freak-out, you gather the courage to gather your things and get in your car.

The entire drive has you a little on edge, though you know you have to do it. Not necessarily out of obligation, but because you want to make your Alpha’s happy. They’re always doing little things for you; buying you new plush blankets, getting you food on their way to visit your studio, Steve had even given you a sweater that both he and Bucky regularly wear - fully knowing and hoping you’ll use it for your nest.

Those men make you happier than anyone else ever could, you relish in their praise, your whole body lit up in flames whenever they get all sweet on you - which is all the time, neither man can resist kissing you, hugging you, telling you how you’re the sweetest Omega to ever exist.

They make you happy, and you will do everything you can to make them happy too. You want to be the perfect Omega for them, to show them that you can provide for them too, and that thought is what fuels you to park outside of their house and gather everything.

Your confidence wanes when you get to the front door, anxious again that the Alphas would be upset that you came over. You don’t even get a chance to think about leaving because the door opens wide, and Steve stands there with a smile.

“Honey,” He says, giving you that same longing gaze he always gives you. His eyes travel down to the container you’re holding, his smile growing wider while you cast your eyes down to the floor nervously. “What is that?”

A part of you wants to laugh, you know his heightened sense of smell can already figure it out. You don’t though, you merely shuffle on the porch nervously.

“W-Well I - um… I know Bucky isn’t feeling well, and I wanted to drop off some brownies for you guys.” Your eyes suddenly go wide, a small panicked noise leaving your lips. “Which I just now realized is probably not a good thing for Bucky to eat right now.”

You kind of want to smack your forehead. You were so focused on trying to be helpful that you didn’t even think of what would actually help Bucky feel better. Sensing your growing panic, Steve hums softly, reaching out and taking the dessert from your hands.

“That’s really sweet, honey,” Steve purrs, transferring the container to one hand so he can take your hand in his free one. “Thank you.”

An unexpected squeak leaves your lips, warmth filling your body as you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile up at him shyly.

“Y-You’re welcome, Stevie.” Your voice is soft, nearly indiscernible except for your Alpha with his advanced hearing. “Um, just… I guess you can text me later and tell me how they taste?” It’s phrased as an uncertain question because you don’t want to make him feel like he has to, but you desperately hope he does. You need their praise more than air.

“You’re not staying?”

That question has your head snapping up so you can look at him directly, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you take in his equally confused gaze.

“I - um. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you never want to come in my house, so I just figured you wouldn’t want me in yours.” Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like, and the hope that he’d invite you in is creeping up. “Which is fine! You - you don’t have to, and I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well.”

Steve sighs, his scent souring a little as though he’s disappointed, and now you’re anxious over possibly saying something wrong. But when he senses your growing panic, he tugs on your hand until you follow him inside. And immediately, the aroma of both Bucky and Steve’s scent calms you down.

“Of course we want you here, sweet Omega.” Steve smiles at you again, pulling you further into the house until you get to the kitchen not far from the entryway. He drops your hand so he can place the food on the counter. The Alpha quickly moves toward you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. Plush, soft lips land on the top of your head, and they linger there for a few moments.

As though he sensed your arrival, Bucky comes rushing into the kitchen with a wide smile.

“Omega,” He says, walking toward you and Steve with purpose so he can wrap around you too.

“Our sweet girl brought us some brownies since you aren’t feeling well.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and they both release their hold on you so you can turn around and face Bucky.

Bucky goes silent, and when you place your hands on his chest you can feel how his heart rate picks up. And after a few moments of simply staring into your eyes, his smile softens, his body relaxing.

“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas’ day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles into your neck as he presses soft and chaste kisses to the area. “You’re perfect.”

You can’t help the nervous chuckle that passes through your lips, nor can you stop yourself from shaking your head, immediately trying to deny it. While you love praise, specifically theirs, you don’t really feel like you deserve it sometimes. How can these two perfect Alpha’s possibly be interested in you? You’re not too sure why they like you, but you try not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to overthink everything and spiral into self-doubt, which would then lead you to sabotage the relationship, and you absolutely don’t want that.

“I-It’s nothing, really. I just want to make you feel better.” Your voice is small and shy, and you cast your eyes downward when Bucky pulls away from you to look at you with such intensity that it makes your entire body go warm. Your heartbeat speeds up when Steve steps back too and moves so he can stand beside Bucky and look at you directly.

“It’s not nothing, baby,” Steve sighs, reaching out and placing a large hand on the back of your neck and turning your head upwards so he can hold your gaze, and it’s absolutely impossible to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Oh, how you want to feel his hands on… other parts of your body.

“It’s thoughtful,” Bucky adds, lightly squeezing your hips. “We mean it; thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You say softly, smiling at both of them and reaching out to place your hands on each Alpha’s chests. In a quick and bold move, you lean up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on Steve’s lips, then move over to Bucky.

Bucky, however, decides a single peck isn’t enough. Steve keeps his hand on the back of your neck and angles your head so it’s easier for Bucky to slide his tongue along your bottom lip and take advantage of your surprised squeak by slipping his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your little gasps and sighs, snaking his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.

The intensity of the kiss comes to a halt when Steve’s stomach rumbles. You and Bucky break apart with breathless chuckles, turning to look at Steve’s sheepish expression.

“Sorry,” He laughs, sliding his hand from your neck to the side of your face, and he smiles wider when you nuzzle and kiss his palm. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“I can cook for you!” You say quickly, surprised with yourself by how fast you were to offer. You’re not the best cook, but depending on what food they have you’re pretty sure you whip up something presentable. Plus, your inner Omega is just aching to please them.

“You don’t need to do that, honey,” Bucky says, stepping back but keeping one hand on your back. “We can just order something.”

“Please?” You ask softly, smiling up at him and using the fact that he can never say no to your pout to your advantage. “I want to.”

Both men sigh, fully knowing that they could never deny you anything you want. So, they both nod, stepping aside so you can go to their fridge.

“You can just make something easy, it doesn’t matter to us.” Steve kisses your forehead, then smiles as he turns to look at Bucky while you go about finding something to cook. Pulling him in close, Steve quickly kisses Bucky’s lips and murmurs, “Told ya she’d understand.”

____________

“Told ya she’d understand.”

Steve chuckles when Bucky playfully shoves his elbow into his Alpha’s stomach. And Steve absolutely cannot stop himself from kissing Bucky again. And one more time. He can’t help it though, Bucky was feeling so awful earlier, and seeing his genuine smile and sparkling eyes fills him with happiness.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky mumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, wiggling out of Steve’s hold so he can go sit at the kitchen island. Steve follows him, muttering “jerk” low under his breath as he sits next to Bucky.

The two men sit side by side, both with love-stricken gazes and twinkling eyes as they watch you flit around the kitchen happily, grabbing things here and there. They aren’t too sure what exactly you’re making, but it starts smelling good in no time. But the underlying scent of happiness coming from all three of you is what really strikes Bucky’s heart.

And in no time at all the food has been finished, and you make sure to pile their plates full of the food.

“I know spaghetti is boring, but I added a few spices so I hope you like it.” Your voice is soft and shy as you present them with their plates, and your rapidly beating heart showcases your nerves. You’re desperately hoping they like it - maybe praise you a bit for taking care of them.

“We’ll love it,” Steve says quickly, getting off the chair and walking up to you with a wide smile. “We’ll love anything you make us, honey.”

The squeak you let out makes both Alphas chuckle, giving you such soft gazes that makes you want to bare your neck to them in submission. With that, Steve and Bucky take their food and guide you to the couch in the living room, being careful as they sit down while Bucky pulls you into his lap.

They take time eating, occasionally feeding you despite your assurances that you already ate before you came over. They don’t care though, because they’ll be damned if they don’t dote on you for making them feel better.

And when the food has been eaten, Bucky gives you a glare when you offer to do dishes. “You’ve worked hard enough, honey,” Bucky tells you, wrapping his arms tighter around you to keep you in place.

It’s at that moment that Bucky realizes that this, the three of you under one roof, on one couch, is what home is for him. With you in his lap and Steve cuddled into his side, he knows that he’s the luckiest guy in the world, how can’t he be? He has his Alpha; the greatest love of his life, and you; the sweetest Omega to ever exist who’s teaching Bucky how to be happy in ways he never thought possible.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you make a slightly distressed sound, your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“Buck?” Steve coos, bringing up a hand so he can run his finger through his mate’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes his eyes, then takes hold of one of your hands so he can kiss your knuckles. He smiles, so soft and sweet and innocent, smiling wider when Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s stupid,” Bucky says with a quiet huff and shrugs. “I just… Today was shit, like, awful. And I’ve been happy all these years with Steve by my side, but other than right now, the only time I can remember feeling this happy was when I was finally reunited with him.”

Bucky briefly glances over at Steve, giving him that soft and adoring look he always gives him, then looks back at you and holds your gaze.

“You make me happy, Omega.”

Your eyes go wide, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Because, while you don’t know everything about what’s transpired in their lives and relationship, you know that it must be a pretty big deal for him to say this. And it fills you with a feeling dangerously close to love, but you can’t help it. Bucky’s been through the depths of hell and back, and he deserves everything good in the world. And you being able to give him some of that goodness just makes you want to cry.

“You-“ You cut yourself off, clearing your throat to suppress the waver in your voice. “You make me happy too. Both of you.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve purrs, reaching across Bucky to give you a tender kiss.

And when you break away from Steve, you turn to give Bucky a kiss as well, and Bucky? Well, Bucky is pretty sure (re: totally confident) that he loves you. He knows Steve does too, which makes everything easier. Knowing that they’re on the same page about their feelings for you gives him reassurance that maybe this could work out.

He wants to mate with you, he wants to be with you in every way possible. And when you pull away and smile at your Alphas with that sweet and tender way you always do, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you want that too.

So who can really blame him when Bucky asks, “Will you mate with us?”

From next to him, Steve doesn’t visibly react, though his heartbeat speeding up and the flush creeping up on his face tells Bucky that he wants that too - they’ve also spoken about it in length, so he knows he’s not just speaking for himself.

All the two men can do now is wait for your answer with bated breaths. It comes only a half of a second later.

“Of course.”

m&h masterlist: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @wandaneedstherapy / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @stuckysbike / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @lethargicluv / @perfectlyboring / @monicachic13 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @matchat3a / @mollygetssherlockcoffee / @normalgirlnextdoor / @lolitsbuckybarnes / @rippedpiece / @biteofcherry

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart

#let me know what you think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky #stucky imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #alpha!stucky #alpha!bucky #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve #my writing #my stuff

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 months

Text

Can't Leave Me

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Seeing a darker side of Keigo has you rethinking your entire relationship. But it’s not like Keigo is planning on letting you go.

WARNINGS: Murder; Kidnapping.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

His hand rubs comforting circles over the expanse of your back, innumerous apologies being mumbled as he kisses the crown of your head.

“I should’ve eased you into it. I‘m so sorry, baby.” his tone is apologetic, almost regretful, but you can’t be bothered by that.

Not after what you witnessed.

The queasiness in your stomach increases, and you swallow hard, closing your eyes in a poor attempt to control both yourself and the wave of nausea that threatens to rise.

“Next time, I promise I’ll let you know beforehand, ‘kay? No more nasty surprises, I promise.” his cooing has you pushing your palms against the edge of the marble kitchen island, and you take a few stumbling steps backwards.

“I really thought you’d like to see my patriotic work.”

“You…” his golden eyes squint for a second when you dodge his hand from touching your arm, “That man-”

“He’s no one. Just some fucking dirtbag I caught the other day on patrol. No one even cares that he’s gone, if that makes you feel better.”

You look at him in bewilderment, unable to believe his words. Was Keigo - always so sweet and gentleman - trying to convince you that killing people was fine? That it was okay for his basement to have pools of blood and pieces of human limbs?

The pungent smell of fresh blood is still haunting your nose and you scrunch it, remembering the nasty scene your boyfriend presented you.

When Keigo asked you to come to his house, telling you he had a surprise stored in his basement for you, your mind wandered to the idea of receiving a sweet gift.

Maybe a painting or a bracelet, anything with a romantic meaning. A normal thing.

But when Keigo took you to his basement, chest inflated with pride at what he called “city scum cleaning” it wasn’t at all what you expected.

“You’re worrying too much.” he sighs, his wings ruffling behind him. “I’m cleaning the city from the filthy scum, nothing else.”

“They’re human beings, Keigo. You can’t take justice into your own hands, that’s not your job.”

Keigo only shrugs his shoulders, disinterested at your attempt to bring some conscience to him.

“I know this upsetted you, baby, so why don’t we change the subject? How about we start making dinner and then watch a movie? I know you’re excited to see that new action movie, right?”

His proposition makes you feel sick to your stomach for more reasons than one, but the realization that your boyfriend is trying to distract you from the fact that he’s a serial killer is too much.

You need to leave. Immediately.

But you’re scared. Terrified of becoming Keigo’s new addition to his basement, if he realizes that you’re not on his side. You’re not sure if he loves enough to spare you from such destiny.

You’re not sure of anything anymore.

You shift the weight from one foot to the other, eyes drifting to the kitchen door.

“I think…” your voice shakes, and you attempt to clear your throat, “Maybe I should go, Keigo. I’m not…feeling great.”

His expression drops for a moment, cold anger being replaced with feigned sympathy so quickly that you almost believe you imagined it.

“Sweet cheeks, if you’re not feeling well, then you can just sleep over.” he takes a minuscule step in your direction, his wings stretching behind him for a moment. Demonstrating their enormous size before he pulls them back.

A not very subtle threat.

“I can prepare a warm bath for you, and then get you in bed with some painkillers. How about that?”

You shake your head, feeling helpless.

“No, Keigo, it’s fine, really. I can just go home and-”

“Nonsense. Besides, I don’t like the idea of you all alone in your apartment, especially if you’re feeling sick.” he brushes you off, “I can’t have you puking or passing out when you’re on your own. What kind of boyfriend would that make me, am I right?”

A few of his feathers gracefully fly in your direction, gently but effectively pushing you forward.

The conflict inside your mind only fires up, but you’re hardly able to bitterly swallow down all the shabby excuses and useless begging that would only result in angering Keigo.

Your body bumps against his and Keigo instantly wraps his arm around your waist, replacing the feathers that rejoin his wings.

He kisses your cheek with an arm tightly gripping your waist, as if he’s waiting for you to bolt and run away. You’d be lying if you say the idea doesn’t seem awfully tempting.

Maybe if he looks away or gets distracted…maybe then you could take the chance.

“C’mon, let’s get you a bath, ‘kay? You’re really not looking too good.”

The melancholic moonlight hits you in the face, seeping through the locked window. Your eyes are wide open, despite the ungodly time of the night. It’s quiet now, aside from the light cricket’s sounds and the occasional car speeding up through the street.

You barely move your head as you glance towards the fluorescent numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table next to you, careful enough to shift as little as you can.

The arm draped across your waist feels like a rope, keeping you bound to Keigo.

But it’s better than the red wing that lays wide open in all of its immense size, acting as a second blanket to your body, caging you to the bed with its oppressive weight.

Despite your objections of becoming too hot during the night, Keigo still insisted on covering your body with it, shutting you down with a gentle kiss.

He sleeps soundly, his chest a few inches away from your chest, his deep calm breathing hitting your ear and neck.

You can’t sleep. Your mind is too bothered, too upset to even consider something as futile as sleeping when there are more urgent necessities. Such as escaping this house.

Keigo fell into a deep slumber a few hours ago while you remained awake, thinking about your next steps. You have to leave the bed, leave the house, leave him.

But even the last step seems complicated when you can’t even pull yourself out of the bed - out of Keigo’s suffocating embrace.

You’re frozen with fear, you begrudgingly admit. Scared of accidentally waking Keigo up and in the process, to wake a side of him that you don’t want to see.

You have to do this.

The first step is to test the waters.

You take a deep breath, slowly shifting your body, your hand gently pushing his arm down and away from you. Nothing happens.

Your heartbeat speeds up as you embrace yourself for the final step.

Looking down at the impending problem of escaping the red wing, you take the decision to slide underneath it.

It’s awkward and embarrassing when you weirdly dive underneath the wing, squishing yourself against the bed as you try to touch the feathers as little as you can. They don’t pulse or move, remaining completely still as you make your escape.

A relieved sigh gets caught in your throat when your feet touch the floor. Just a little more, you think, bending your body to slide down the curve of the bed.

Premature hope makes your breathe faster. Maybe you can actually get away.

Oh god, you’re actually going to get away.

Your whole body freezes for a scary moment when Keigo mumbles a few incoherent words, shifting and turning in bed, but thankfully he remains asleep. You can breathe again.

It’s a bit hard to walk in the darkness, only the dim light of the moon helping you guide yourself, as your feet take baby steps and you prod the walls with your hands until you finally find the closet room.

The door creaks slightly as you slowly close it, and you hold your breath for a moment. Nothing happens.

You open the light, hoping it doesn’t infiltrate through the door’s crack and search the place with your eyes, looking for your clothes. Keigo kept them there before handing you one of his shirts earlier in the night, saying that it would be more comfortable for you to sleep in his clothes than in your outer clothes.

It’s easy to find your shirt and pants, both of them tucked away in a corner of the room, the evident contrast between Keigo’s expensive clothing and your cheap casual outfit standing out.

You quickly put them on, looking around for your purse before remembering that you had left it in the kitchen. Fuck.

You close the light, and silently leave the closet.

“Babe.”

Your blood runs cold at the sight of Keigo casually standing in front of you, arms crossed in his chest. There’s no anger in his face - nor sleepiness, you notice - but there are hints of annoyance. Did he really expect you not to try and run?

“I’m kinda disappointed, I gotta say.” he shakes his head with a tired sigh. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. Guess I was wrong.”

“I wasn’t-” your words lose strength, and for a moment, the idea of dashing for the door with all of your speed seems incredibly enticing, “It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah? Pfft, c’mon, you seriously think you’re gonna fool me into believing any crappy excuse? Like I didn’t just catch you trying to sneak off on me?” he clicks his tongue, messy strands of blonde hair falling onto his forehead, “But you know what?”

It’s now. The moment he switches the flip on you and beats you and-

“Let’s continue this tomorrow, alright? It’s late, so how about we sleep on this and in the morning, we’ll talk.”

You look at him, surprised. Isn’t he gonna drag you by the hair to his basement and beat you?

Keigo directs you back to the closet, watching as you hesitate to change back into his shirt.

“That was never gonna work, you know that, right?” he says. “It’s not like you could outrun me. I’m too fast for you, with or without quirk.”

When you get back on the bed, his wing covers you once again and his arm pulls you flush against his chest, suffocating you with his presence.

He kisses the nape of your neck.

“Sleep tight.”

You wake up startled, mind buzzing with a chilling nightmare. Red blood and sticky viscera follow you even though you rise away from the realm of dreams.

You breathe in. It was just a dream.

Distant sounds coming from another room catch your attention and you remain quiet, catching the tiny rays of sunlight that come through the curtains, basking on pacific solitude.

What are you supposed to do now? Relent and pretend that everything is peachy, to act as if the basement isn’t torture chamber and that your boyfriend isn’t some cold-hearted killer?

You roll to the side, yelping when your leg gets caught on.

A chain.

A soft leather wrapped tightly around your ankle, connecting it to the links of metal that keep you in a short leash. There’s barely any length to it, meaning you won’t even be able to reach the bathroom if you need to.

This can’t be real.

You persistently rub your eyes, shaking your head as fear threatens to spill in the shape of a panic attack.

Keigo wouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He just can’t.

Much to your consternation, you don’t wake up. This isn’t some wicked dream, after all.

“No, no, please, no.” you cry, pulling and tugging on the solid chain with both of your hands. It doesn’t work, despite all the clicking it does. Doesn’t so much as move away from your ankle.

But it does make a shrilling noise and soon Keigo rushes into the room, a worried expression on his face before he understands what you’re doing.

He plops next to you, firm hands pulling your shaky ones away from the chain, despite you not giving up and you yelp when he uses his strength to expertly twist your wrist, forcing you to let go of the chain.

“Keigo, please, don’t…don’t do this. I promise I won’t run away, I swear!” you plead, snot and tears pathetically dripping down your face as Keigo pulls you into his lap, a large hand securing both of your wrists.

“Keigo…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything is fine, it’s all okay.”

It only makes you cry harder. One of his hands rubs your back while the other holds the back of your neck, pushing your face to his chest.

“C’mon, don’t cry. You know how awful that makes me feel.” he presses a gentle kiss to your head, rocking your bodies back and forth, comforting you as if you were a child throwing a tantrum.

“You left me no choice. You were gonna leave me, abandon me like I never meant anything to you.” his voice is almost quiet and you know that if you looked up, his face would resemble a kicked puppy.

It almost makes you feel bad until the stupid chain in your ankle clinks, reminding you that Keigo isn’t a good man.

“But it’s okay now. I know you’re not happy with… our current situation, but you’ll soon see it my way. I’m doing this for you - for us.”

His arms tightened around your wriggling body, keeping you close to him.

“I’m not letting anything get between us. Not even you.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere bnha #yandere mnha #dark bnha #yandere my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #yandere x reader #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere!hawks x reader #dark hawks x reader #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere keigo x reader #tw: yandere #tw: kidnapping

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mondaymelon · 1 year

Text

— 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ♥

:with anemo men!: (feat - venti + xiao + kazuha + heizou + wanderer)

thank you @ilyuu for inspiration on the prompt!!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside

PART 2

[About: Lover]

VENTI: ♥

“Oh? You want to know more about my lover? That’s quite bold of you to ask, isn’t it? All answers come for a price, but if you really insist… Well, they really are too nice for their own good, even if it sometimes doesn’t exactly show, and their words flow like the warm breeze~ …What? That doesn’t make any sense? Hah… as I thought, no one except for them can understand my poetic metaphors!”

XIAO: ♥

“Why are they of your concern? Why do you want to know about them? Who are they to you?? …Forget it, I’m not going to tell you anything. You aren’t worth their time in the first place. Leave now. I tend to dislike small talk.”

KAZUHA: ♥

“You know them? Your connections never fail to impress me, Traveller. Yes, the rumors are true - I am indeed seeing them. …What I like about them? Ahaha, among other things, their smile just makes my world feel so much more vivid… I can feel my heart soar whenever they call my name in that beautiful voice of theirs - Ah? Traveler, you look a little stunned. Are you alright?”

HEIZOU: ♥

“Haha, you mean my partner in crime? Man alive, why do you look so pale? I was only joking! If anything, they’re my partner in… solving crime. Life too, they… they just don’t know it yet. Hey- you can’t tell anyone, alright? Especially not them!! Ah, now I’ve done it… blowing my cool image… Wait, is that a yes?? Hah… thanks Traveler. I owe you one.”

WANDERER: ♥

“What do you want this time? Have you come to bother me again? Wh-What?? Why do you want to… yes. If you must know, I’m seeing them. There, I said it. Wh- Is that really so much of a shock? You look… almost terrified. …Whatever, it’s none of my concern in the first place. You won’t get any more information about them from me, so get lost already.”

(a/n) anemo boys give me will to live

PART 2

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 1 month

Text

TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)

CoD ML

The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.

But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.

Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?

For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.

For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.

For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.

“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”

Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.

So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.

“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.

“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”

“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”

“Johnny…”

“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you ask.

“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”

“I see.”

Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”

“But-“

“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”

“You… you really don’t…”

“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”

“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”

“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.

“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.

You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”

“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.

While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.

“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”

“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.

“Do you cook?”

“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.

“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.

Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”

“Help me do the same?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Lovely!”

“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.

And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.

Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.

A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.

He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.”

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”

Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”

“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.

“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.

Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.

You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.

That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.

“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.

The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.

“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.

“You really don’t-“

“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”

The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.

For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.

Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”

“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.

“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”

“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”

“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”

“Homemade?”

“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”

John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.

Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.

Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.

At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”

John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.

You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”

Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.

“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.

“I don’t think-“

“Please?”

How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“Had fun?”

“I did.”

“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”

An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”

“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.

“You like him, don’t ye?”

“Who?”

“Ghost.”

“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”

“He is.”

The only man who has his blessing to court you.

Who he hopes will truly be family one day.

His future brother-in-law.

#CoD x Reader #Soap McTavish #John Price #Ghost x Reader #Simon Riley x Reader #John McTavish #John Soap McTavish #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Captain John Price #Simon Ghost Riley #CoD MW Ghost #Ghost CoD #CoD Ghost

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its-time-to-write · 8 months

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I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet.

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee.

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says.

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants.

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard.

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone.

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out.

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table.

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad.

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says.

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod.

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say.

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says.

“Brill,” says Jamie.

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket.

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale.

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again.

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out.

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red.

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question.

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him.

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’”

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house.

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs.

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly.

You find him sitting under the tree.

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt.

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks.

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his.

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion.

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him.

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding.

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here.

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side.

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him.

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great.

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe.

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains.

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family.

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks.

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca.

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly.

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles.

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy.

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling.

They might know this from personal experience.

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing.

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you.

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings.

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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alyakthedorklord · 3 months

Text

Agent D to watchtower

(Fic)

Flash And Green Lantern, bored, stuck on monitor duty at the watchtower, cheerfully badmouthing batman together when a notification rings through the room.

Hal snaps to attention, because notifications on monitor duty don’t usually mean good things, but at least they’re things.

Oh holy crap that’s Batman’s caller ID.

Green Lantern and the Flash do NOT scramble like kids caught staying up badmouthing a parent at a sleepover, sending chips and cookies flying. They are professional world savers. Incredibly powerful men. Yep.

“Batman!” The Flash squeaks. “Whats- uh. Whats the situation?”

Whatever it is has to be dire. Batman never calls for help, ever. So it has to be a really big problem. Unless he’s spying on them. And is about to growl at them for talking behind his back.

The line is silent for a few moments, just long enough for Hal and Flash to trade terrified looks, and then…

“This is Agent D, reporting in.”

That voice is not Batman.

It’s not Batman’s deep, growly baritone. It’s slightly accented, boyish and light, despite the serious tone to it as whoever the voice belongs to whispers into the communicator.

Too young. Far too young. Thats a kid.

Hal checks the ID- yep, this is Batman’s communicator. How on earth does this kid have it?

“Uh… nice to meet you, Agent D. Can you tell me what’s going on? How are you calling us right now?”

“I’m deep in enemy territory.” The kid whispers, which isn’t really an answer but definitely catches Hal’s attention. The kid is whispering like he’s scared someone- or something- will hear him. “The darkness is endless. Any and all sound travels here- it’s a massive echo chamber. This is his territory. I’m not sure if I’ll make it out of these caves- if he hears me, I’m done for.”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on.” Hal says quickly, eyes wide as he stares at the indicator on the screen. “What’s going on? Where are you? Do you need help?”

“Negative on the extraction.” What the hell? Who is this kid? Who taught him to talk like that? “It’s too late for me. But I have urgent info the Justice League needs to hear!”

Hal and Flash exchange a concerned look. The kid knows he’s got a Justice League communicator. It isn’t just some random thing he’s picked up.

“We’re all ears, kid.” Flash says.

“Alright,” the kid says seriously, taking a breath like he’s bracing himself for the words he’s about to say, Hal and Flash leaning closer to the monitor as they wait for whatever he has to say. “Batman…”

“…is a butthead.”

Hal stares at the monitor.

Flash stares at the monitor.

“…what?”

“Batman is a butthead.” The kid repeats. “A stinky butthead. He’s mean and old and dumb and a big butt.”

Is there something in his ears? Is there something in the Doritos making him hallucinate? Did a kid really steal Batman’s Justice League Communicator to call him a butthead?

“He’s such a big butthead, we should call him Buttman instead of Batman.” The kid is saying, glee seeping into his serious tone. “There goes Buttman, in the Buttmobile.”

“These are-” Hal begins, then has to stop to let out a laugh or else he won’t be able to maintain a serious voice for the game they’re apparently playing. Flash has his hands pressed over his mouth, shaking. “These are serious claims, Agent D. Do you have any proof?”

“Yes!” Agent D announces. “He makes me wear PANTS and do GRAMMAR! And! And last Wednesday he wouldn’t let me have dessert, and he won’t take me on patrol with him, and! He was mean to Agent A! Even though Agent A is just worried about him because he got hit on the head and got a concussion because he doesn’t have a skull to protect his brain and his head is all squishy like a Butt!”

Hal is nearly crying with the effort it takes to hold in his laughter, clutching onto the desk for support. Thankfully, the Flash has recovered enough to play along with a shocked gasp.

“Is that why he wears that Armored Cowl?” He asks Agent D. “To protect his squishy head?”

“Yes.” The kid insists, voice dripping with vicious glee. “I saw him take it off once and he doesn’t have any hair. He’s wearing underpants on his butt head.”

“Is it… is it special underwear? Or just normal?” Flash asks, grinning madly and shaking as well. “He doesn’t have legs on his head to wear it right, so-”

“The ears on his cowl are the legs.” The kid says immediately.

That mental image is enough to bring Flash down to the floor beside Hal, cackling madly. They get ahold of themselves, swallowing down their laughter to get back to the kid, but then they lock eyes, setting them off all over again as Agent D’s giggles echo through the comm line above them.

“I can’t- oh god, I can’t breathe.” Hal gasps, clutching at his chest. “Fu- um, gosh, I needed that.”

“I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again.” Flash wheezes. “That’s an image that’s going to stay with me forever.”

“Good. Memorize it: this information will not be repeated.” The kid says seriously, deepening his voice in what is clearly meant to imitate Batman. Flash cackles again.

“In all seriousness, kid.” Hal says, crawling his way up to the desk to stare in bewilderment at Batman’s caller ID. “Where did you get this communicator? It’s meant to be a secure line. Emergencies.”

“Well,” Agent D says, voice lightening out of his Batman imitation and into a tone of sweet, angelic innocence, “he shouldn’t have left it out in the open then.”

“I didn’t.”

Both Hal and the Flash freeze, hearts stopping in their chests at the familiar angry growl.

Batman.

“Uh oh.” Agent D mutters.

The next thing they hear is the flurry of motion- the thump of the communicator being jughled, the scraping of cloth and shoe on stone, the whoosh of the communicator being swung through the air, and the patter of feet running full tilt.

“ROBIN!” Batman’s voice shouts, the only response a cackle of young laughter.

“Run, little man!” The Flash urges, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Go go go!”

“It’s too late!” Agent D shrieks. “It’s too late! The Buttman is coming! Remember me! I sacrificed myself for the greater good! Like the spies who got the death star plans! Remember me!”

“It’s not over yet!” Hal cheers, even if he knows theres no escaping Batman. “Evasive maneuvers! Keep going!”

“YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!” Agent D bellows, but a moment later the sound of running is cut off with two grunts, one much deeper than the other, and the sound of a scuffle.

Scrabbling and slapping of little kid hands on kevlar armor can be heard between thumps of the microphone hitting something. Finally, the sound settles, enough for Hal and Flash to hear Batman mutter, “you sure about that?” as Agent D groans dramatically.

A moment later, Batman’s voice comes over the communicator clearly for the first time.

“Batman to Watchtower.” he says, voice flat and businesslike as ever despite the kid gighling madly in the background. “Comms have been compromised.”

“We noticed.” Hal smirks. And Batman was the first to let the secure line get infiltrated! He’s never letting him live this down.

“The perpetrator has been apprehended, and will be punished accordingly.”

“Aww, no, Batman, come on.” Flash wheedles on behalf of his new buddy. Hal is kind of worried too- Batman won’t be too hard on the kid, will he? “Agent D was just having some fun!”

“Yeah, don’t be a butthead!” Agent D shouts, before giggling again.

“You know you’re not supposed to be down here alone.” Batman grumbles. “This is probably one of the safer things you could have picked up. And it can send a distress signal that can summon the entire justice league. What would you have done if Superman decided to smash his way through the cave?”

“I know how to use it!” Agent D complains. “I’m not stupid! I’m good with technology, and you showed me how in case of emergencies!”

“And this was an emergency?”

“A boredom emergency.” Oh god, Agent D is sassing Batman.

“Seriously, Spooky.” Hal interrupts, because he’s actually a little worried for Agent D, “whats his sentence?”

Batman huffs, and then there’s a grunt and a small oof like he’s readjusting his grip on Agent D. “Considering this isn’t his first offense of the night…”

“I’ve done nothing! I’m innocent! I want a lawyer!” The sounds of struggling come through the communicator, but Hal doesn’t think it’s working very well. The kid is trying to escape Batman, after all. “You’re always saying we can’t be judge, jury, and executioner! Put your money where your mouth is! I want a lawyer!”

“Alright.” Batman hums, much to Hal’s shock. Is he really playing along with the kid? “Green Lantern. I’m promoting you to Lawyer. Answer my next question carefully.”

Still a little shocked, all Hal can say is, “um… okay?”

“What is twenty-four minus twenty-four?”

Hal frowns. That doesn’t sound like a lawyer question. “Excuse me?”

“Twenty-four minus twenty-four.” Batman repeats.

“Uh… zero?” Why does Batman need him to say this? Doesn’t he know math? Can’t he whip a calculator off that belt of his? It wouldn’t surprise Hal in the slightest. Hardly the weirdest thing Batman’s got on there.

“Lets add some words to that problem.” Batman growls. “If I had twenty-four cookies before someone was left unsupervised in the kitchen, and none after… then how many cookies are currently rallying for a stomachache against Agent D?”

Hal won’t lie. That’s impressive. The kid doesn’t sound grown enough to have a big stomach. “Twenty-four.”

“No!” Agent D shrieks. “No!”

“Sounds like an admission of guilt from your lawyer.” Batman growls. Oops. Hal forgot that was his job! He should have dodged the question!

“No! Leading the witness! Your question was a trick!” Agent D shouts, in an impressive show of melodramatics. “I want a better lawyer! This one sucks! I bet this guy didn’t even go to law school! Also, he wasn’t given all the relevant evidence or time to prepare his arguments! ALSO also he was appointed by the opposition! Rigged jury! I want a retrial!”

How old is this kid?

“Nope, too late. Welcome to Gotham, chum.” Batman huffs. “Now then, stealing a Justice League Communicator, eating all of the cookies, which were meant for both of us and I was very much looking forwards to, and calling me… Buttman.”

He growls the last word, and Hal watches Flashes fist teleport to his mouth to hold in the bark of laughter threatening to escape. The serious way he said that stupid name… even Agent D has stopped his dramatics in the face of the court to cackle!

“Don’t laugh.” Batman growls, in exactly the same tone that made them laugh in the first place. “I am deciding your punishment.”

“You can’t do anything!” Agent D jeers. “I already told the Justice League that you were actually a Butthead! I’ve eaten all the cookies! All twenty-four tasty, tasty cookies and you can’t have any! I’ve won! There’s nothing you can do! You’ll never get your cookies back!”

“Is that so?” Batman hums, and if Hal didn’t know better, he might think Spooky was smiling. “Well then. I guess I’ll have to tickle you until you toss your cookies.”

“Wait- no!” The kid shrieks, and then the communicator breaks off into peals of desperate, full bellied laughter, interspaced with pleas for mercy and one final, deep voiced line.

“Batman, out.”

The comm channel is cut, leaving the Watchtower’s occupants in an echoing, shocked silence.

Tickles? TICKLES? Batman, the hardass of the Justice League, the no-nonsense, work no play, spooky scary bastard… left his communicator where a kid could get it. A kid who stole all of Batman’s cookies. Who Batman retaliated against for stealing his cookies with tickles.

And his voice had been… not non-growly, but lighter than Hal has ever heard it. Ever. The kid had seemed completely at ease with him, mocking him, grumbling about homework and treats. It was almost as if…

“Oh my god Batman is a dad.” Hal whispers into the silent room, eyes wide. “This is the greatest thing to happen to me ever. I’m so glad I decided to stay to keep you company.”

“So am i, so you can tell me later i didn’t hallucinate that.” Flash says fervently. “He’s a dad. He’s a dad to the giggliest kid I have ever heard in my life.”

“He punished his kid with TICKLES.” Hal wheezes. “His kid calls him a butthead for making him do homework- oh my GOD. His kid grabbed a JUSTICE LEAGUE COMMUNICATOR- he knew exactly what that thing was!”

“Came on the line like a proper secret agent!” F agrees, vibrating. “Oh my god, please tell me we have that saved. Do we have that saved?”

“Quick- before spooky deletes it!”

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #robin #justice league shennanigans #found this in my notes app #here you go #enjoy

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sailoryooons · 9 months

Note

hiiii :3 i’m a VERY silent reader (i’m terrified of my irls finding me on this god forsaken app) but i just love your writings so much so i had to participate in the agust event!!!!

childhood bffs yoongi x reader smut where they’re definitely probably too close, way closer than bffs should be anyways. reader goes to yoongi one night complaining bc no matter what she does, she just can’t cum! good thing yoongi’s actions speak louder than words <3

pls pls pls get totally creative w this, i love ur brain sm and i love seeing what you come up with!!!

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Yoongi has always been your closest friend, but it’s always been a little closer than everyone else. He takes it one step further, offering to address a silly little problem for you.

❀ Word Count: 2,320

❀ Genre: Friends to something more, PWP

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, some feelings of insecurity but like barely, talking about orgasm struggles, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple stimulation, a hint of choking, a lot of sucking on neck/throat, nipple play, mostly reader getting finger blasted sdfnodsifgj, reader is completely naked and Yoongi is still clothed, mentions of oral (f. receiving), a little bit of cum eating

❀ Published: August 23, 2022

❀ A/N: Okay so this was supposed to be posted way earlier than 10:30 PM EST but I completely forgot I had this sitting and waiting to post (it was a long day) but HERE IT IS!!! I love the idea of Yoongi casually just being like yeah I’ll get you to come or whatever, let’s do it sdfjdfogijdfrgi thank you so much for being a reader and requesting something - silent or talkative reader, I'm just happy you're here and that you enjoy my writing! Thank you for being here.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust |

“You what?” You ask Yoongi, breath shaky. “Don’t play around like that, it’s not very funny.”

It’s rare that you can’t tell if Yoongi is making a joke or not. Though his humor is quiet like the night sky outside and soft like the sweater he’s draped in, you know Yoongi. Know him well enough to detect the subtle notes of a joke in his hushed words, know to listen amid the loud voices of your friends for a quiet jest, spoken softly just for you.

Now, though, you’re a little unsure.

Everyone has said for years that your friendship with Yoongi is too friendly. You vehemently disagree: affection between friends should be encouraged and treasured. Being able to platonically hold hands, share beds, and offer physical affection isn’t something reserved for lovers. You adamantly believe in this - always have.

But… it is different with Yoongi. You think about how you always hold Taehyung’s hand, how you let him curl into your side during movies, or how he nests in your bed when he grows too tired for parties. Taehyung is particularly affectionate, but it does feel different.

“Let me make you cum,” Yoongi repeats, as though he’s reflecting on the weather outside. He’s on his knees on the couch next to you, hands resting in his lap. “No one should have to go through their adult life without partners making them cum.”

You roll your eyes. “Plenty of people can’t cum for a number of reasons, Yoongi.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me try anyway.”

“Why do you care?”

He tilts his head. “Because you’re you. And I’m good at making people cum. It feels like an obvious answer.”

“We’re best friends.”

“My point exactly. Look, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, I-”

You shake your head and wave him off. “No, I just. Didn’t expect the offer and it made me nervous.”

“Nervous how?”

Letting out a long exhale, you rest your head on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling. Your warm mug of tea is abandoned and the drama on the TV plays on, silent in the background. You chew the inside of your cheek, wondering how to string your words together.

With anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed or nervous. With Yoongi, your anxiety is significantly less. Even if you speak the words on your mind, you’re sure it won’t change things. You’ve been through your fair share of oversharing, never shamed, never turned away.

It’s how you started this conversation about your sex life in the first place.

So you decide to be honest.

“Nervous like, I’m into it and I want to try it out, but I don’t want it to make our dynamic weird.”

“It’s not weird for me if it’s not weird for you. I’m sorry I offered so bluntly.”

Your lips twitch and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. Yoongi has beautiful hands. Long fingers with knobby knuckles, blunt nails and gentle fingertips, calloused palms. You’ve mapped the structure of his palm hundreds of times, know the shapes of the lines on them, and watched a palm reader chart the stars on them.

Yoongi’s hands are where you’re safest.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t violate a boundary.” His mouth is soft when he smiles, his eyes are dark when he watches you. He’s so pretty. A soft thing with round cheeks, kind eyes, and gentle smiles. Quiet. Confident. “You really wanna try?”

Yoongi’s grin turns feral. “I do.”

“Alright.”

It starts with him leading you to your room, hand holding yours gently. It starts with a shy smile and hungry eyes, Yoongi watching you as you sit on the edge of your bed, unsure and giving him a questioning gaze. His hands are confident when he makes you move backward, shuffling until you’re in the middle of your bed on your back.

Yoongi joins you on the bed, kneeling next to you. He watches as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over your thigh. His touch is featherlight, making you shiver. He doesn’t do anything but this at first, tracing the shape of your clothed hip, up the sides of your rips, under the curve of your breast.

Your breath catches, fixated on Yoongi as he outlines your curves. His eyes flicker to your face, drinking in your expression when he draws his fingers over the swell of your tits and over your nipple. The stimulation is barely there but it spikes. You inhale sharply and he smirks as he keeps going, brushing over your throat, and under your jaw, feeling your pulse.

“Pretty,” he murmurs. He takes you by the chin, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “What do you like?”

It’s hard to answer. Yoongi’s hand leaves your mouth and trails back down to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. It’s a barely-there ghost of a grip and he raises his eyebrow. You nod, unable to string together an answer. He squeezes gently before continuing his exploration downward again.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. This Yoongi is one you’ve never experienced. He’s quiet as always, but the silence is heavier. Pointed. He bites his bottom lip a little as he passes your stomach and dips between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Yeah?” he asks when your hips twice.

You feel heat lick through you, pooling between your legs. Your fingers twist in the sheets in anticipation. Heat pulses from your pussy, panties getting damp and Yoongi’s has barely touched you. It’s the way he looks at you, the way he presses his thumb against your swelling clit.

“Yeah,” you breathe, voice watery. “I’m pretty into it.”

“I can tell,” he teases. He leans down, keeping one hand between your legs, gently applying pressure and circling his fingers as his lips search for yours. “You’re already wet, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t let you answer. His lips capture yours and you sigh into his mouth, hands coming up automatically to wrap around his neck. It feels so natural. His hair is soft between your fingers and his mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the peppermint tea he drank earlier.

Kissing Yoongi is heady. He controls the kiss, keeping the pace slow as if he’s savoring you. Your thighs close around his hand as he presses through your shorts harder. When he introduces his tongue to your mouth, it takes your breath away.

Breaking the kiss, Yoongi mouths at your jaw. You arch into him, running your hands down his chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his sweater. One of your hands goes to his wrist pressed into the mattress by your head, holding onto him, the other goes to his hand between your legs, laying your fingers on his, pressing.

He hums, the buzz of his mouth against the underside of your jaw maddening. Together, you peel your shorts down your legs. Yoongi shuffles closer to you, your thigh pressed against his as he continues to kneel next to you, heat radiating from his body.

Yoongi traces the trim of your panties. You watch him, your mouth parted as you breathe unsteadily. He is solely focused on you. You can feel the slick sticking to the silk, watching as he drags a finger near your hip, his touch tantalizing.

Maybe this is what you were missing. Yoongi takes his time, dragging out the feeling of his hands on you. Works you up as he removes your shirt and bra next. You feel drunk on him already, nipples pebbling in the cold room. His nails scratch lightly up your stomach to your chest. He smirks as he traces slow, lazy circles around your nipples, eyes glancing up to watch your expression.

“Why?” you ask, hissing at the light stimulation. You want more.

“No one is in a rush,” he mutters. His voice is low, raspy. “Are you?”

When you shake your head, he smiles, pinching a nipple between two fingers. A curse drips from your mouth and your hips buck. You close your eyes, letting Yoongi tweak one nipple then the other, letting him guide you through. The stimulation feels good - otherworldly, even, when he bends down and flicks the tip of his tongue over one playfully.

“No,” you sigh. “Not in a rush.”

His teeth scrape your sensitive bud and your head rolls back, pushing into the mattress. “Good. Relax, let me take care of you.”

Tension melts out of your body. You didn’t realize you were so tense until he pointed it out. You let yourself sink into the feeling of Yoongi sucking gently on the peak of your right nipple while his thumb brushes back and forth over the other. The stimulation feels good, your head lolling to the side as you breath shakily.

Yoongi is slow. He takes his time running his tongue across your chest, air cooling is spit as he goes. You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb for attention. He notices, nipping his way back up to your neck as he slides a hand down between your legs, pressing your panties into your sticky folds.

“Fuck,” you sigh. He nuzzles your neck, tongue swipe over the sensitive spot of your throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking wet.”

“Good.” His words are muffle as he sucks at your tender skin. You angle your head, giving him better access. It feels like the bed is spinning wildly, a compass lost in an electromagnetic field. “Tell me at any point if something doesn’t feel good or you want something else.”

“Okay.”

You open your eyes and smile. It’s so Yoongi to make sure he asks what you want. So Yoongi to remind you that he’s here for you. That as he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear, he’s determined to provide for you. To get you off.

A moan slips out of your mouth when it comes into contact with your dripping cunt. He avoids touching your clit directly, fingers spreading your folds as he teases your hole experimentally. It feels good - whether it’s because it’s Yoongi or because you’re already worked up, it doesn’t matter.

Yoongi circles around your clit deftly a few times, making your hips wiggle. A tingle settles in your stomach, fingers twisting in the sheets.

When he retracts his hand, you open your eyes. He watches you steadily lifting his fingers to pop them between pink lips and oh. He hums around his fingers, making a show of rolling his tongue around them, tasting your juices. He slides them slowly out of his mouth, hypnotizing you.

“Mmm.” He grins and reaches to slide your underwear off. “Can’t wait to eat you out. First, I’m gonna make you come.”

Never in your friendship would you have imagined Yoongi to be like this. It would be a lie to say you’d never thought what it might be like to have him like this, his hands peeling your underwear off. The scrap of the silk on your legs is heady, every part of your skin extra sensitive.

Lips parts, eyes fixed, you watch him toss the underwear to the side. He shuffles so that one knee rests against his leg, the other spread flat on the mattress for him. There is a split second where you feel vulnerable, spread open for him to see how much of a mess you are at the barely stimulation. You start to close your leg but Yoongi shakes his head, hand brushing down your inner thigh.

Slowly, Yoongi drags a finger up your slit to your entrance, massaging lightly with his finger before sinking in slowly. You let out a long breath, your walls clenching around his finger. It doesn’t provide a lot of stretch, but it feels good, the pad of his pointer stroking your inner wall.

At first, Yoongi is slow. Familiarizing himself with your warm, wet heat. He picks up the pace then, stroking deeply, ensuring to push up against that soft spot inside of you. It drives you crazy. Crazier, still, when he leans down and attaches his mouth to yours, tongues tangling as he fingers you leisurely.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters against your mouth. “You’ve got a wet little cunt.”

“Not usually,” you admit. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends a little. Your entire body is radiating with heat, sweat slicking your skin. “Fuck, it feels good. Doesn’t usually.”

“No?” he sucks harshly at your jaw and your eyes flutter shut.

“No. Usually they jack hammer their fingers into my pussy.”

His laugh is hot on your skin. “Nah, just gotta find the spot.”

Yoongi has found the spot. Makes it ten times better when he adds another finger, giving you something more substantial to grip on. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, slick sounds filling the room. He adds his thumb to the mix, pressing down on your clit. You gasp his name, hips bucking against his hand, dripping into his palm.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts. “Fuck yourself onto my hand the way you like.”

Together, you work yourself up to the edge. Yoongi doesn’t pause for a moment, doesn’t complain that his wrist is tired, doesn’t stop tonguing your sensitive spot on your neck until you’re clinging to him, coming around his fingers in a wet, messy squelch.

You shake as he thrusts his fingers a few more times, the slopping sound of his palms smacking your pussy intoxicating. You feel like liquid, blurry at the edges and warm.

“Holy shit,” you sigh. Yoongi pulls his fingers from your hole and you immediately squirm, hating the empty feeling. “That was just from your fingers?”

“Uh huh.” You watch as he licks his fingers again, grinning around them. Your stomach flips, cunt still leaking, begging for more. “Now watch what happens when I eat this pussy.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fic #suga fic #min yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongix you #suga x you #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

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fuumiku · 2 months

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Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

#Dungeon meshi #Ask #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Marcille donato #chilchuck tims #Marchil #You me the parking lot after i finish and post my arc analysis #Sobbing……… we’re 20 over here in the rarepair pit come on. Like do u not see how obsessed i am. Do u think they like. Mean nothing to me #Do u think it’s all incidental and i slipped and the 10 thousands of words I write for them had no thought or feelings behind them or #Their arc is so beautifuuuuul they come to see each other and her standards become more real while he allows hope and openness #Into his heart again 😭😭 not the way two of their scenes lowkey read as a proposal…#Anyways I hope this makes it clear I’ll fight to my dying breath for them.#I don’t want trouble and i imagine you don’t either so just don’t come shitting on my doorstep #In positive news my fic Grind Me Down Sweetly recently reached 100 likes and 1k hits <3 it can also be read as just platonic so if you like #Them as a duo even as friends give it a shot #Every time I see someone shitting on marchil I start making marchil content faster btw #Not art

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futureman · 1 year

Text

You take my self control

summary: your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, extremely graphic depictions of violence, dark themes, blood and injuries, dead clicker, angst, comfort, ptsd, reader struggles, undefined age gap, established relationship, language, smut, piv, rough sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, minor dom!joel, guided handjob, pet names

word count: 3.4k

a/n: whew, this one is a doozy. the original plan was to write something fluffy, but then i wrote this instead 🥲 based on moments from kill bill vol. 1 and sin city, and the title is from the song self control by laura branigan! please lmk if i missed anything in the warnings and i’ll add it asap. it’s a lot darker than my last fic, but i’ve always wanted to write this story, so i hope you enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

You can’t see. You can’t hear anything at all. Numbness permeates your limbs, and your thoughts are a mishmash of gnashing teeth and nails, sharp and jagged like claws, and so, so much red.

There’s something warm and sticky on your face and hands. It’s up your nose, trickling into your open mouth, and it tastes like salt and iron. Blood…it must be blood. You hope it’s your own but, in the dark recesses of your mind, you know it’s someone else’s. It tastes all wrong, like the fact that you’re tasting it all means you’re alive and you really shouldn’t be.

He’s yelling, or at least you think it’s him. Sound returns to your ears all at once and it’s fucking loud.

Joel, stop, it hurts.

Everything hurts so much now, and you feel it everywhere—scratches down your arms and legs, your heart slamming an angry beat against your temples.

Fuck, you’re probably bit. Joel sounds frantic and terrified, but you don’t know why. There are massive gaps in your memory and you can’t remember how you got here, knees heavy on the ground, your thighs bracketing the sides of a dead clicker.

A woman—you think it used to be a woman. It’s hard to tell after the carnage. The fragments of bone and wet chunks of flesh and fungus where her head should be tell a different story now. You desperately wish your sight hadn’t returned at all, but it’s too late and you can’t unsee it. You can’t unsee her.

The muscles in your arms and hands burn something vicious, and when they give out, something hard clangs to the ground. A metal pipe.

Joel calls out to you again, and he sounds closer this time.

“...go…have to go now…can’t…here…”

Strong hands tug on your arm and pull you to your feet, and suddenly you’re running. Joel is all but dragging you out of what looks like the living room of a modern, suburban home, and you do your best not to trip on tipped-over furniture.

You look back over your shoulder and the body is still lying there, lifeless. You’re not sure why you thought it would be chasing you, hungry mouth snapping at your throat; it’s dead. Because you killed it.

You’re exhausted and your legs are sore, but when you start to slow down, Joel’s hand tightens around yours and tugs harder.

“We have to go, baby, we can’t stay here.” Ah, that’s what he was saying before. “I know it hurts, but you gotta keep goin’. Just a little longer, you gotta keep it up for a little bit longer.” He should be out of breath by now, but he’s running on fear and adrenaline, and you let it fuel you, too.

When you make it outside, the sky is a clear, cloudless blue above you and the sun is brighter than you’ve ever seen it. It makes your skin itch, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the dirt and dried blood matting your hair and caked under your fingernails.

Instinctively, your hand rises to shield your eyes. It’s effective enough that you’re able to take in your surroundings as they fly by and, while they’re familiar, you still can’t remember what you were doing here in the first place.

“Joel, I’m…I-I’m—I can’t. I can’t run anymore, p-please—,” you whimper, chest heaving with exertion. House, driveway, lawn—they repeat over and over and over again. They’re starting to blur together, and your tunneling vision worsens until darkness consumes you. “...Joel…”

And then everything goes black.

You’re…surrounded. By something that feels soft and warm and solid against your aching skin, and it moves steadily against you, rising and falling. Your head tilts to the side and it’s Joel breathing into you, his head at home in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped loosely around you.

You nuzzle your nose into his graying hair, pressing a kiss there, and a sharp intake of breath follows as he blinks awake blearily.

“Hey, baby,” you murmur. He hums something deep and unintelligible in response, tilting his head back to mouth wetly at the base of your throat.

You let out a sigh of relief. If Joel’s in bed with you like this, it means you’re not infected. Hurt and in pain, yes, but you’re both alive and that’s all that matters. You saved his life out there and you’d do it all over again, even at the cost of your own.

Your memories are returning quickly now, like waves violently crashing to shore after a storm, and the images are gruesome. What you did to protect Joel was barbaric, but you acted on impulse, out of rage and desperation.

The clicker came out of nowhere. You were searching an abandoned house for supplies when it lunged out of a closet, tackling Joel to the ground. The metal pipe in his hand clattered to the ground at your feet and you picked it up as quickly as it fell.

Then, something inside you snapped and you reacted. It was dead after the second or third blow to the head, but you kept going anyway, angry at it for almost stealing Joel away and destabilized by the fear of losing him.

Blood sprayed from every artery you severed and after each new crack in its skull, and it showered down like rain, thick and warm against your skin. It made you feel powerful, like you were in control for the first time in your life. You enjoyed it.

Only when you realized the pipe was connecting with wet, dented pieces of floorboard instead of flesh did you finally stop.

You remember everything now.

“I’m not sorry,” you tell him, staring vacantly at the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom. He sighs, and you think he’s about to start lecturing you. You don’t want to hear it. You barely want to talk about it at all. “You could’ve died, Joel. If you think for one second I’d ever let that happen, you’re out of your mind.”

He squeezes you a little tighter, mindful of your injuries, but doesn’t respond. Silence blankets you for a moment, and then it breaks once he realizes you’re trembling and your eyes and cheeks are wet with tears.

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you can’t seem to stop, and the frustration in his eyes lessens with each soft hiccup that escapes your lips.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, thumbing away the tears as they fall. He leaves his hand there, gently cupping your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You can feel the fight leaving his body; it’s just not worth it anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. Sighing, he drops his head to rest on your collarbone. “There’s nothin’ to be sorry for. I shoulda been payin’ more attention, been more cautious. Then, you wouldn’t have had to…you wouldn’t be—” He’s fumbling his words. Joel’s never been good at conversations like these, but he’s trying. “...I’m tryna say it’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”

It’s not his fault, either. In the aftermath of everything, no one’s to blame, but it doesn’t help how much it still hurts. How broken you feel.

“Joel, I—,” the tears flow freely and you struggle to suppress a sob. “I’m a monster. You saw what I did…I just—I couldn’t stop. I know she wasn’t a person anymore, I know that, but…b-but I think I liked it. What does that say about me; what does that make me?” You’re spiraling now. He shifts up the bed to hold you properly and rocks you against his chest for a while, like he’s soothing a child.

“It makes you human,” he murmurs into your hair, running his hands up and down your sides. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feeling of his warm, calloused fingers on your skin.

“I’m scared, Joel,” you whisper. “Whatever that was, it feels like it’s a part of me now—like…I’ll be fighting it forever.” His eyes darken, even as he kisses the side of your head gently once, then twice. “I close my eyes and she’s there. I can hear her, feel her. I…I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

That fucking neighborhood. Why the fuck were you even in that neighborhood? There wasn’t even anything useful in any of those houses. You try to tell yourself that all of it could’ve been avoided, if you had just decided to head straight back to Jackson, but it’s a fantasy. In this world, it was inevitable.

Joel still hasn’t answered you. Instead, he presses his lips to your throat again, this time with teeth, and sucks hard where your neck meets your shoulder. You should be wondering why he’s not responding when you’re so clearly distraught, but the only thing you can think about is the delicious pain blooming under your skin. When he finally speaks, it’s a low hum against the fresh bruise.

“I never wanted this for ya,” he nips at you sharply, his beard dragging roughly against your sensitive skin, and you gasp, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging. He groans, hips stuttering into your thigh, and the need to feel him bare and heavy on top of you is overwhelming. “I tried to protect ya—wanted to save you from this. All of it. But I failed ya.” There’s anger in his voice now, and it feels violent. He’s aggressive in the way he touches you, and though you know he’d never purposely hurt you, you think you want him to. “This world takes and takes and takes, and we’re forced to adapt,” he all but growls. “You’re no more a monster than anyone else.”

Rationally, you know it’s true. The bloodlust you feel—you’ve seen it before, in the eyes of raiders you’ve come across on the outside and in the hungry gaze of infected, all of them desperate to tear into you, to take what they want. Looking into Joel’s eyes now, you see it there, too.

The room feels hotter, somehow, like his body heat suddenly spiked, and it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You press your hand into the soft skin of his stomach and it burns like molten lava, begging you to play with fire.

He snatches your hand from where it’s splayed beneath his shirt and drags it under the waistband of his sweatpants to cup his hardening cock, and you suck in a harsh breath through your teeth. Fuuuuuck. You’re not in charge here, you realize, not now.

“Tonight, I want you to give in to me, alright? You let me take control. ‘m gonna fix it,” he grits out. “Gonna fix everythin’, just need you to trust me,” and you do. You’ll let yourself go, because even though that dark, horrible part of you doesn’t want to submit to him, your body clearly does. It’s a power struggle you hope you lose.

His hand doesn’t leave yours once it’s wrapped around him and, instead, leads your fingers to grip him tightly as he sets a strong, steady pace. You give him a rough squeeze, and he throbs, leaking a bead of precum onto your fingers that you thumb over his head, digging your nail into the slit.

Joel chokes out a moan, hand releasing yours to bury itself in your hair, and begins to fuck your fist in earnest, each thrust punctuated with a sharp exhale. It’s like gripping steel, hard and smooth and searing.

Or a metal pipe. Fucking hell, he feels so much like that fucking metal pipe and you clench down around nothing, your cunt soaked and devastatingly empty. More precum leaks from the tip, and he’s so wet now, your palm sliding easily up his cock and back down to squeeze the base.

It makes you see red—viscous, red blood coating your fingers, and you release him, pulling your hand away to suck it off each one. It’s not real. Of course, it’s not real. The creamy liquid on your fingers tastes like Joel, bitter and heady, but still, you can’t get the thought of his blood in your mouth out of your head now.

God, that’s so fucked up. You must look half crazed right now, pupils blown wide as you look up at him through your lashes, each glistening finger pulling from your mouth with a pop. But he looks angry at what he sees in your eyes, and suddenly both of his hands are on your hips and he’s slamming you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress with his entire weight. You’re not following his rules.

“Baby…baby,” he moans, finally brushing his lips against yours, soft and wet, and licking a line across the roof of your mouth as he grinds into your aching pussy. “Stop fightin’ me. Just…focus on me, right here. Lemme make you feel good.” You whine pathetically into his mouth as he runs his hands up your sides, fingers catching on your shirt and dragging up until his thumbs brush the underside of your tits.

Lifting your shirt up just enough to expose your pebbling nipples, he leans back on his heels and looks down at you hungrily, like he wants to devour you whole. And fuck, you need him to. But you also want to take and take and take, itching for the fight.

His head lolls to the side as he takes you in. “Fuck, baby…,” he mumbles, as he drops a hand to palm himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful like this. So good for me, my—” He pauses to squeeze his cock, and groans out, “...my brave, strong girl.”

There’s a massive wet patch on the front of his sweatpants from where you soaked him through your underwear, and his eyes roll back when he feels it, warm and sticky against his fingertips. Your mouth waters and you’re starting to feel a little desperate now that he’s stopped touching you. You don’t even notice the whine that escapes your lips as he continues to jerk himself off through the fabric.

“What, brave girl?” he coos, biting back a growl at the warring emotions on your pretty features. He reaches forward to thumb a nipple, his touch rough and calloused. “I promised I’d make ya feel good, didn’t I?” He tweaks it and you keen, hips canting upward in search of friction. “Feels that good, huh?” he rasps, smug at how your body responds to him.

A strong hand forces your hips back onto the bed, trapping you against the mattress, and you feel a sudden, intense urge to slap him. Heat blooms in your lower belly and you feel yourself gush at the thought. “Joel…fuck, just fucking touch me. Please.”

The sides of his mouth quirk down and he nods, like he’s thinking it over. Asshole. You know you’re still breaking his rules but, by now, you’re too horny to care. You don’t think sex with Joel has ever been like this, nor do you think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Christ, if he doesn’t fuck you soon—

You lurch forward to tug at his pants in a moment of weakness, but he’s quicker than you and snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head. The scratches on your arms are still raw and angry, and the skin pulls painfully as he tightens his hold. It’s another reminder of earlier today, and you muster up all of the strength in your body to rip your arms out of his grip, but he shoves you down by your shoulders.

“If you keep that up, I’m not gonna give you this,” he warns you, flipping the waistband of his pants down just enough to free his cock, thick and leaking all over itself. Your thighs squeeze together at the sight of it, and you abruptly feel remorseful, ready to beg for it if you have to.

Fuck, he’s powerful. And fuck, his tactic is working. The power struggle you hoped you’d lose—you’re pretty sure you just lost. You can tell the moment Joel recognizes acceptance on your face and, immediately, you’re being yanked onto your hands and knees, ass in the air and face smushed on one side against the mattress. He’s rewarding you.

It’s like his hands are laser-focused and, yet, still everywhere all at once.

“Brave girl,” he murmurs, mouthing a wet trail down your spine. “That’s my girl—g-good, good girl.” He’s already starting to stutter, his voice breathless and shaky. Joel gets mouthy when he’s pussy-drunk, like he just can’t help but verbalize every filthy, incoherent thought when he’s inside you.

You clench in anticipation as he grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, precum soaking into your underwear and mixing with your own slick. He slides the offending fabric halfway down your thighs and then stops, and you can feel his breath, hot and humid, against your cunt as he spreads your legs for better access.

He wastes no time licking a wide stripe up your sopping core before swirling his tongue against your clit and sucking hard. It punches a moan out of your chest and your mind goes blank as you grind back into his mouth. The sound of skin slapping roughly against skin reaches your ears and you realize he’s jerking himself off as he devours you, groaning raggedly as he fucks into you with his tongue.

What the fuck, you’re so fucking close already. Frantic, you reach out to Joel behind you, managing to tug a fistful of his hair. “J-Joel…ngh, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine pathetically, drooling onto the sheets. “I can’t…I— please, ‘m so empty. Don’t make me c-cum empty, Joel.”

It happens so fast. Your entire body is thrown forward with the weight of him, as he sheathes himself in your heat to the hilt in one violently powerful thrust, and oh, oh fuck, you’ll never get used to how big Joel is. The stretch is almost painful and you bear down on him, not expecting the sudden intrusion.

“Baby…girl. Squeezin’ me so tight, so f-fucking tight,” he moans helplessly, already starting to babble as he fucks into you. “Fuck, your pussy gets s-so tight when you’re…,” he reaches around to rub circles into your clit and you start to pulse around him, “about—ngh, to cum.”

With his other hand, he grips the back of your neck, squeezing just enough to remind you who’s in control; of your pleasure, of your safety. The new angle drives his cock directly into that soft, spongy spot inside you that has your jaw dropping, staccatoed moans punched out of your lungs with each thrust.

“‘m gonna cum. Fuuck, fuck, ‘m cumming…Joel, ‘m—,” your pussy convulses hard, and you soak his cock as you cum with a hoarse shout. Joel growls over your shoulder, slamming into you over and over, your pussy squelching loud and wet.

Your arms and legs give out, and Joel grips your hips with both hands, hovering above your ass as he fucks into you, thrusts harder and more frantic. He’s so close, the telltale signs obvious to you, now.

He barely has time to choke out a panicked, “where?” and hear you moan, “on my face,” before he’s thrusting once, twice, and pulling out, rolling you over and bracketing your head with his thighs. You rub your hands up and down them as he jerks himself off above you. For a moment, he gazes down at you in wonder, like maybe you’re a beautiful figment of his imagination, and then he’s cumming hard.

Joel sounds wrecked, his groan long and drawn out, as his cock spurts thick ropes across your lips and tongue, dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. Shifting down your body, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue. He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands.

“I told you I’d fix it.”

And he did. He put your broken pieces back together and overwrote your bad memories.

Now, all you see, all you can hear is Joel. Your thoughts are a mishmash of searing hot skin, his lips, soft and wet against yours, and mind-numbing pleasure.

Your skin is still warm and sticky with his release, and it tastes so undeniably like him. Woody and salty, and right.

It’s quiet, now—peaceful—and everything doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

Strong arms pull you close and you sigh, tired and relieved, into his embrace. Joel holds you tighter as you drift off to sleep, murmuring something you don’t quite catch against your cheek, and you feel safe.

From the monsters beyond the walls and the one in the mirror.

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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lemonlover1110 · 9 months

Text

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 26] Date

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“I could just eat you.” You kiss Seiji’s tiny feet, and he laughs. You adore his little laughs more than anything. You never thought you could love him more than the day he was born, but your love for him keeps growing more and more each passing day.

At five months old, Seiji looks like a replica of his father. You wait for him to grow more into his features, to look more like you. But he doesn’t. You love him either way, even if he looks just like Satoru. Seiji just has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest rolls. You can have a thousand of him, and as you think that you realize that you’re forgetting how horrible childbirth was.

“Are you telling him that you’re gonna eat him again?” Satoru asks as he walks to sit by your side. You don’t pay attention to him, just looking at your baby. Satoru sits by your side and kisses the temple of your head.

You haven’t had the date that you were supposed to have, and you’re going out tonight. And instead of getting ready, you’re playing around with Seiji. Satoru clears his throat before he says, “Maybe I should handle Seiji while you get ready.”

“Why don’t you get ready?” You ask as you look over to him. But he is ready. You’re about to fight it off but you hear a certain sound that makes you hand the baby to his father. “Change his diaper while I go get ready.”

Satoru is clearly annoyed when you hand him Seiji. It’s his fault for suggesting that you get ready. It’s also baby Seiji’s fault for making a mess in his diaper during the worst possible moment. Satoru wastes no time in changing the diaper– Absolutely terrified though, especially after what happened during Seiji’s first month of life. Satoru is protected by his infinity, but the room isn’t.

“I’m gonna miss you tonight, Seiji.” Satoru says, kissing the top of his baby’s head. Every night that Satoru has to work, he hates the fact that he won’t be able to be close to his baby. But Satoru wants to spend some time alone with you, and that means that he can’t bring Seiji. He doesn’t like the fact that Seiji is growing up so fast, and every time Satoru looks away the baby seems to learn something new.

He walks back to the living room, where Megumi tries to assemble something with his legos. Satoru smiles, realizing just how lucky he is. Tsumiki and Megumi argue like any pair of siblings, but apart from that, they’re very calm kids. Satoru speaks up, “Do you wanna play with Seiji for a bit?”

“Didn’t he just shit himself?” Megumi asks, leaving Satoru wide-eyed. Where did Megumi learn that language? Satoru doesn’t have a potty mouth, then he remembers that you certainly do. Even around Seiji, even though he scolds you about it. He doesn’t want Seiji’s first words to be fuck or shit. Apparently those are the only words you know.

“Don’t use that language, Megumi.” Satoru scolds him, and Megumi rolls his eyes before standing up and walking back to the room. You’re in the process of buying a house, and Megumi simply can’t wait since he was promised his own room.

Satoru sighs before looking down at his baby. Seiji is stretching his hand out, trying to reach for something. Satoru doesn’t know what, and he’s trying to find what baby Seiji is looking at. He’s cooing at something, and then Satoru’s eyes finally land on the fish-shaped toy. Satoru grabs it and hands it to the baby. Seiji grips it, and Satoru just watches.

There’s a knock on the door, and Satoru stands up, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to handle Kaya. When he opens the door, he tries his best to smile at her. She looks unamused with his presence, but her expression quickly changes when she sees baby Seiji. She doesn’t waste a minute in taking the baby from Satoru’s arms.

She’s holding the baby in the air, risking that he pukes all over her, but she doesn’t care. “My cute little nephew, I’ve missed you.”

“You know it’s not just him, right?” Satoru asks, watching as Kaya walks inside. She ignores him, of course she knows. Kaya has met Megumi and Tsumiki a handful of times, and they seem fine. She won’t struggle much tonight. Satoru shuts the door. “How are you and Daisuke?”

“What do you mean?” She responds, genuinely confused. It makes Satoru click his tongue, in disbelief that they’re still not dating even though they’re so clearly into each other. Satoru ends up shaking his head, not wanting to get into the issue.

“Heads up, Seiji loves to poop right when you’re changing his diaper so be prepared.” Satoru warns her, and she chuckles.

“How many times has he done it to you?” She questions, and he scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly looking elsewhere. Too many times for him to be scared. While he looks away, he watches as you walk out of the bedroom, looking as stunning as ever.

You’re putting on your earrings, and you’re clearly not ready to go yet. You just walked out of the bedroom to greet Kaya. When she sees you, she smiles and says, “There’s my favorite MILF.”

Satoru clears his throat, which doesn’t necessarily do anything. Kaya side-eyes him before she turns her full attention to you. You kiss her cheek before you kiss your son’s head. “How are you? Didn’t expect you to be here so early.”

“I’m right on time, am I not?” She responds and Satoru hums in response. You call over Megumi and Tsumiki, and it takes them a minute to walk out of their room to the living room. You smile at them before informing them,

“You remember Kaya, right? She’ll be taking care of you tonight. Please be nice to her.”

Kaya smiles at the kids, and Tsumiki smiles back. Megumi doesn’t care all that much, but it’s fine, she knows he’s a grumpy kid. You tell her basic instructions, stuff that Satoru can handle, before you walk back to the bedroom to finish getting ready.

Satoru wants to rush you since you have a special reservation, but he knows better than to. He just has to wait.

You’re almost late to your reservation, but thankfully you’re right on time. The place looks fancy, and the menu contains words that you can barely pronounce so you know this is way out of your price range; luckily, Satoru is paying. You’re just hoping that Seiji’s college fund isn’t the one that’s paying for dinner.

“How’s work?” You ask before you bring your glass up to your lips. You still don’t have a grasp on what he does, but you’ve moved on past it. You can’t see it, so it doesn’t concern you. As long as he isn’t killing innocent people, you’re fine.

“Let’s not talk about that, please.” He chuckles. He changes the topic, “How are your classes? Were your exams too hard?”

“Not too hard.” You respond. You don’t want to admit that the term was a bit harder on you since you hadn’t taken classes since the previous fall term. Everything was so much harder for you because of your newborn. You managed to pull through though. “Glad to have the time off.”

“That’s nice to hear. Just know that if you don’t want to do it anymore–” He begins and you cut him off. As tempting as it sounds, you can’t really can’t just drop your studies to be a stay at home mom.

“I do want to do it.” You tell him. Your hands reach across the table to hold his hands. “Especially since you’re paying for everything. I don’t have that much left anyway.”

“Just letting you know that you have other options!” Satoru responds. Satoru keeps looking you up and down, you simply look stunning. He’s truly a lucky man. It isn’t official yet, but you have a baby and you act like a couple so is there really a need to formally ask you to be his girlfriend? Well, he guesses that he should. “I wish I could stay with Seiji all day long.”

“I mean… You could. Once I've graduated–” You begin and he interrupts him.

“My type of job isn’t one that I get to quit. I’m stuck doing it until I’m dead.” He’s told you it a couple of times, but you don’t seem to pay attention to it. Maybe he’d explain everything further, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But you speak up,

“Why were you so insistent on your parents not finding out about Seiji?”

“I just thought if no one in my life knew about Seiji then he’d be safe… I mean, you saw what happened when someone that wasn’t supposed to know found out.” He answers. He still hasn’t quite figured out how Suguru found out, but he has an idea. He shakes his head before he smiles at you and he squeezes your hands, “Let’s not talk about that.”

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask him, slightly tilting your head to the side. You look sweetly at him, slowly blinking. Fuck, you look so beautiful.

“Just how beautiful you look. Thanks for coming out with me tonight.” He can’t stop staring with loving eyes, and you feel your heart flutter. You feel so warm inside every time that you look at him, and you nearly squeal each time he compliments you. Kissing him just makes you smile foolishly, and you hate that he knows the effect he has on you. He’s been sweeter than ever lately, and you assume it’s because he sees you smile like never before.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You respond. It’s nice to be out after what feels like an eternity. You don’t have to worry about your baby or the kids. “We should do this more often. Just some alone time for the two of us.”

“I love that idea. No musty kids around. No dirty diapers to change.” He comments, causing you to laugh. You know that he hates changing dirty diapers but it’s a task that always falls in his hands. “Plus we’ll have fun after.”

“Doing what?” You question before he informs you,

“I took the carseat out of the car.” It doesn’t hit you, but when it finally does, a smirk comes to your lips. He then clears his throat, “I hope you enjoy the dinner tonight. I love this place.”

“Can’t wait to taste the food.”

It’s fair to say that you weren’t a big fan of the food so before your date comes to an end, you and Satoru walk around to find a place nearby to eat. Satoru keeps his eye out for a place that you might like, and he tries to walk fast since he sees you shivering. You’re both well dressed since it’s December, but it’s windy out. Wind hits right on your face and you’re sure that you’ll end up sick.

“The food wasn’t that bad.” Satoru tries to argue, and you don’t dare to disagree. It just wasn’t too tasty, and you left half of your food untouched. Satoru found it delicious on the other hand.

“Yeah… I guess it wasn’t.” You respond, following his every step. He comes to a stop when he spots a cupcake shop, and he grabs your hand before dragging you to it. You’re relieved when you step into the place, warming up immediately.

“What kind of cupcake do you want?” Satoru asks, and you take a moment to think about it.

“Carrot.” You respond, and a smile comes to his lips. Luckily enough, there isn’t a line so you’re able to get your cupcakes right away. You take a seat and begin to eat. Satoru is trying to get some of your food, but you make sure to keep it far from his reach. The fact that Satoru has really long arms doesn’t help you.

“Have you had fun?” Satoru asks, snatching your food out of your hands and offering his own. You refuse to take it though. You nod in response, getting some of the icing of his cupcake on your finger before bringing it up to your lips.

“How about you? I know you enjoyed that nasty ass food.” You joke, and he rolls his eyes. You end up laughing at his reaction. He finally gives you back your cupcake and you gladly take it from his hands.

He clears his throat, “So…”

“So?” You blink rapidly, curious as to what he has to say.

“I guess we don’t need to do this properly since we have a baby and live together and do everything that couples do…” He begins, and he pauses to gather his words. You have an idea of what’s coming up, but you patiently wait for him to finish his statement. “I don’t wanna drag this out, so I’ll put it simple. Do you want to be my official girlfriend?”

You laugh. “I thought that at this point you’d be giving me an engagement ring but yes–”

He doesn’t waste a second as he reaches into his pockets to pull out the ring that he has. Your eyes go wide looking at it. You weren’t serious. There’s a smile on his face as he says,

“Do you want to skip the girlfriend stage and become my fiancée then?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 9 months

Text

Let you break my heart again - Anakin x Jedi reader

masterlist.

Author’s note: hi. so uh. yeah I got a little silly and decided to write angst again. and wrote more than I was aiming for but that’s okay LMAO— Also omg THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY SWISS FIC?? you’re the best <3 Other things to note: Revenge of the Sith era Anakin but Anakin and Padmé aren’t married (they’re courting/dating), reader is a Jedi and has had a crush on Anakin since like the beginning of time /j, reader is majorly jealous of Padmé

Warnings: ANGST, unrequited love, hurt/comfort, Anakin uses a derogatory word for droids, no pronouns used for reader

Word count: 2114 words

Propped against a wall, you saw Anakin enter the Jedi temple, looking a bit disheveled. But you knew he had just returned from a mission with Obi-Wan, so maybe it went terribly wrong, maybe it went really well.

You attempted to approach him, but Padmé had already beat you to it, like she always did. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw him hug her, longing to be in her place. Sadly, you knew it would never happen, with the looks they’d exchange with each other when they thought no one was watching. But you were. Finally, after what had seemed like forever, Padmé left to do her duties. You took this opportunity and rushed to him, your heart skipping a beat. “Hey.. how did it go?” You asked with a soft smile. Anakin nodded at you, then sighed. “Fine, I guess.. We didn’t really do much, just killed a bunch of clankers.” You caught yourself before making a face at him for using the derogatory word for droids; but you understood why he chose that word.

“Well.. I mean, at least it was.. good practice?” You giggled a bit, trying to cheer him up.

Anakin forced a light chuckle. “Yeah..” He said, looking off to the side, his mind somewhere else. You gave him a soft look. “Hey.. everything okay over there?” You asked kindly, your heart skipping a beat as he looked back at you. “No.. not really…” he admitted with a sigh. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words. “..thanks for asking, though.” He added sincerely.

You furrowed your brows and studied his expression. “Hey, uh… do you want to go somewhere else and talk about it, perhaps?” You offered.

He thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I could use… someone to talk to...”

“Alright, then. Wanna head to the library? It’s usually deserted at this hour..” You smiled at him, and Anakin perked up a little at the mention of it. “Yeah, actually… that’d be great.. there’s some new data I’ve been meaning to catch up on as well.”

You two slowly made your way to the library, finding a table in the very back. Anakin sat down on one of the old worn out chairs, staring into the oblivion. “I feel… different..” He mumbled, almost to himself. “What’s wrong?” You sat down next to him, tilting your head and studying his expression. You waited a few seconds before speaking up. “..is it about Padmé?” You question.

Anakin nodded. It was hard to explain, but he felt something. Something that both terrified him and excited him.

“How did you know?” Anakin asked. “Ahah.. lucky guess?” You smiled, then giving him a sympathetic look. “..is she okay? Are you two okay?”

Anakin sighed. "Yeah... I think we are." He put his head down, leaning his arms on the table.

“She's so beautiful…” Anakin whispered. “And she's smart.. And... caring... and... wonderful…” Anakin trailed off, unknowingly breaking your heart with every word. “…You love her a lot… don’t you? Well, I bet my lightsaber she loves you a lot as well.” You tried to smile through the pain, asking the very question that could possibly break you, but you had to know.

Anakin looked up at you, a look of uncertainty on this face. “No, it's not that. I love her… it's just... It’s hard to describe.” Anakin said.

“But.. sometimes, I just feel like... I don't need this.” He looked away from you.

“This… this whole Jedi… thing. I don’t know if I want to be a Jedi anymore.” Anakin whispered, his words dripping with emotion. “I want something different.” He said hesitantly, looking back at you.

“…I see. What is it you want, exactly?” You whispered curiously. Anakin seemed to think for awhile.

“I don't want the Jedi Order, that's for sure.” Anakin said.

“I want freedom. I want... something... more. Something..." He trailed off.

“I want to be happy.” Anakin finally said, almost as if it was a confession. “But I'm... afraid.”

You nodded in understanding. You want freedom too, but not in the same way; you wanted to just be free from this unrequited love, to be free from this constant heartbreak…

“…why are you afraid?” You asked him softly.

Anakin stared at the table in front of him. “I don’t know, it’s just… if I let go of this… this Jedi thing…” He said, the word ‘Jedi’ having a slight hint of hatred in it. “..I’m not sure if I can become anything else. But at the same time… I don’t want this.” He continued, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

You nodded. “I understand. I really do..”

You so desperately wanted to reach out and hold Anakin's hand, to comfort him and tell him that everything will be okay as long as they have each other. But you couldn't. You weren’t Padmé.

“…I feel like I'm going insane…” Anakin whispered, his voice quiet and strained. He felt ashamed, but also somewhat relieved that he finally let it out.

“Sometimes I even think... I even thought…” Anakin trailed off.

“Never mind.” He said with a sigh.

“Wait, no.. you can tell me.. I promise I won’t tell anyone..” You reassured him.

He looked back up at you. “Sometimes… I have these… thoughts.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of thoughts?” You asked gently.

“…Dark thoughts. Violent thoughts. Thoughts that could.. that could get me expelled from the Jedi Order.” Anakin finished, his voice strained. He looked at the table, and you did too. “…I see.” You finally reply, looking back up at him in sympathy. “…do you think it’ll affect you soon? Like…. You’re almost at your breaking point?”

Anakin took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know…” he answered.

“I don’t know what I’m capable of..” He continued, his voice starting to shake. You notice him slowly, hesitantly reach his hand over the table and rest it on yours, his fingers trembling.

You stared at your hand for a moment, then back at Anakin, feeling the pang in your heart again. Oh, if only he knew the pain he’d just caused… “Hey.. it’s okay, you’re strong… I know you can get through this. I know it.” You whispered to him, giving him a soft smile.

Anakin leaned his head against the table, keeping his eyes shut. “Can you… can you do me a favor..?” He asked quietly.

“Anything. Yeah.” You whispered immediately, ready to give your life for Anakin in a heartbeat if you were asked to do so.

Anakin sighed. “Can... can you promise to stick with me? No matter what? Like a Jedi and his Padawan?”

Anakin looked up at you. "Can... can you do that for me?" He asked. He looked like he was begging you for help.

You nodded. “Of course.. I’ll always be on your side, no matter what. I’ll always be here for you.” You whisper with a smile. Anakin looked up at you, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Thank you…” he whispered.

A moment later Anakin embraced you in a tight hug, a feeling of relief washing over him.

You tensed slightly, a blush forming on your face. The pang in your heart hit harder again, and you knew that this moment would haunt you forever.

Nevertheless, you placed a hand gently on Anakin’s chest and wrapped your other arm around his waist, hugging him tighter. “Shh… don’t cry..” You whispered, hating to see him in pain even though you were probably hurting even more than he was.

Anakin's words were muffled as he buried his head into your shoulder. It had been so long since someone had embraced him in a welcoming way.

“I’m… I'm scared…” Anakin whispered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

You were the only thing grounding him to reality.

“Hey, it’s okay… you’ll be okay.” You whispered reassuringly, rubbing Anakin’s back soothingly. The longer the two of you hugged, the more it hurt you. But you couldn’t understand it. Why were you feeling so much pain when he was showing you affection? Isn’t this what you wanted?

Anakin lifted his head from your shoulder, looking back at you. He could feel his breath catching in his throat as he gazed into your eyes. Before he could even think, Anakin leaned in and softly kissed your lips. You could feel your cheeks get redder as he kissed you. Was this even real? You didn’t care; this was the happiest you’d ever been, almost as if you were in a trance. You kissed him back without hesitation, but then as quickly as the moment came, it was over; Anakin pulled away. Your eyes widened in realization as you snapped back into reality. Anakin seemed shocked as well, surprised by what he just did. “I….” He whispered, unsure of what to say.

You looked at him in horror, thinking of what Padmé would do if she ever found out.

“I… I’m sorry, I.. oh, no…”

Not thinking straight, you quickly got up and ran away from the library, tears starting to blur your vision.

“W-Wait! Come back!” Anakin called your name as he got up from the table, running after you.

“J-Just leave me alone, Ani…” you pleaded as you covered your mouth with your hand, a sob escaping your lips.

Anakin kept following you as you both raced down the halls, your footsteps echoing. Eventually he caught up with you and grabbed him by the shoulders. “No.. No, I won’t. Let me help you.” He said firmly as he took your hand and held it. “Please… you’re hurting me more than you realize..” You stared at him, tears starting to fall down your cheeks now. You wanted to pull your hand away, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to do so.

“No, I want to be by your side. Through thick and thin,” Anakin said with a slight smile. “Padmé means a lot to me, but you... you are very special to me as well.”

You looked away from him, taking in shaky breaths as more tears fell down your cheeks and you wiped them away before looking at him again.

“Wait.. so… y-you don’t love Padmé?” You asked slowly.

Anakin went red. “What? No no... I do love Padmé.” Anakin said, his voice getting a bit higher than he intended. Was he lying?

“But... I also love... I mean... uh…” Anakin was fumbling with his words. He wanted to say 'I love you,' but he didn't want to scare you. Anakin wasn't sure what he should do. He was stuck.

“Anakin.. don’t play games with me right now.” You pleaded.

“Do you love me, or her?” You asked bluntly, tears still falling down your cheeks, your eyes turning puffy.

Anakin took a deep breath.

“I… I choose... you.” Anakin said, looking at you.

For the first time since you had known each other, Anakin looked completely honest. He wasn't lying about anything. He looked at you with eyes of complete adoration.

"I choose... you." Anakin repeated.

You looked down at the ground, his words registering in your brain. “H-How do I know… you’re not lying to me right now to make me feel better?”

Anakin took his fingers and lifted your gaze. “Look me in the eyes,” Anakin said, and you did.

“I’m not lying to you, and I never will.” He said with complete honesty.

“You mean more to me than anyone in the galaxy.” Anakin's voice softened. "You are more important to me than even Padmé,” Anakin said, looking you right in the eye.

You looked at Anakin with a desperate expression, shaking your head.

“Oh, Ani…” You whispered, and before you knew it, you’d placed your lips on his again, this time full of passion.

Anakin wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back just as passionately as tears formed in his eyes. “I love you.” He whispered.

Hearing those words from Anakin’s lips melted your heart, and you felt tears forming in your eyes again, but this time from pure joy.

“I love you too.. Oh, Ani.. I’ve waited so long to hear you say that..” You whispered back, kissing him again.

Anakin kissed back, not wanting the moment to end. He embraced you as if you were the only thing holding him together.

It was like a fairytale come true.

Anakin finally felt happy. Really happy. He had you to thank for it, as well as his own courage to take a chance.

And now, you were finally with the one you loved.

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marksbear · 1 year

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Can you write a lip Gallagher fic where reader takes his anal virginity for the first time and lip is nervous but then ends up cock dumb

I love lip so muchhhh! ❤️ I’ll be glad to write this! This will take place when Lips still in school so like S1 and 2.

Warnings! SMUT, Virgin Lip, first time, soft to rough, makeout, detailed kisses, grinding and humping.

LIP GALLAGHER X TOP MALE READER

Y/n and Lip walked around in the sidewalks of south side Chicago. They were walking around from school. The two young reckless boyfriends were doing illegal shit while on their walk. Like smashing windows and smoking.

“We should grab something eat yeah?” Y/n suggests while taking Lips wrist dragging him to follow. Lip loved that about Y/n. How he acted so dominant and controlling but reality he’s just a gentle man.

“Sure whatever.” Lip answers walking with his boyfriend.

“Is your family home?” Y/n asks looking ever his shoulder as he asks. “Nah. There at some stupid place with Sheila.” Lip answers not thinking much of it.

“Cool…Do you know when they’re gonna be back?” Y/n asks while looking for a place that looks good for the both of them can eat at.

“Not until like the middle of the night. But Ian’s staying at Mandy’s for something I think while Carl is at a sleepover.” Lip responds.

“Good. So you’ll have your own room today?”

“Yes babe! Why do you keep asking these stupid questions!?” Lip blurts out.

Y/n stops suddenly looking at Lip with a smirk. “Well because I plan on fucking you today. If your okay with that?” Y/n says nonchalantly as Lip almost choked in surprise. “Wa-wait huh?!?”

“I mean even you said that we should take our relationship to the next level. We already done all the bases now we just have to go home base.” Y/n says with a smile.

“The is that supposed to mean!” Lip knew what it meant but he just had to hear it.

“We’re gonna have sex. And I’ll be the one who’s doing the fucking.” Y/n answers with a quick kiss one the head. “I’ve never done it before.” Lip breathes out as he mentally panics.

“That’s okay. That just means I’m taking your virginity. Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” Y/n says before continuing walking.

As Lip follows Y/n quickly wonder his mind begins to wonder. Y/n was right Lip did say those exact words. And it’s true they have done every sexual act between them not sex though. Lip couldn’t believe it. Lip was nervous and a little terrified thinking about what’s going to happen.

“What if I’m bad at this. What if it’s to big to fit it…” Lip thinks to himself as he think and think.

“We should eat here. Then after we’re done we can go to your house.” Y/n says opening the restaurant door for Lip gesturing him inside.

TIMESKIP

As the couple walks to the Gallagher house Lip heart pounds against his chest feeling more and more nervous.

Lip could see his house in the distance as he swallowed the breath he didn't even know that he was holding. As the two held hands they walked to the house with Y/n opening the door for him.

"For once this place is empty." Y/n says playfully as he takes off his own jacket throwing it onto the couch with Lip doing the same. "You've been very on edge y'know." Y/n says cupping Lip's jaw with his hand.

"Don't worry doll, i'll take care of you." Y/n whispers seductively before pulling Lip forward into a kiss. Lip quickly melts into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders. Y/n places his hands onto both sides of Lip's hips holding him tight.

Their tongues move against each other exploring the others mouth with such fierce passion. Lip lets out quiet moans into Y/n's mouth.

For the need of air Lip pulls away looking up at Y/n in a trance. Lip didn't even realize that his body was grinding against Y/n's. As both boys collect their breath they move around the dark living room moving into the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Are we really gonna fuck in a bunk bed?" Lip says hiding the full on nervousness in his voice. Y/n only lets out a chuckle before walking inside the room.

"This is our first time together. It has to be somewhat comfortable." Y/n teases back playfully before turning back around to Lip. Lip closes the distance between them kissing Y/n deeply once more. Y/n moves his hands down on Lip's hips lifting him up from the ground. Y/n presses Lip against the nearby wall and pulls onto Lip's clothes signalling him to take them off. Lip pulls away from the makeout as he fumbles around with his shirt taking it off alongside his pants and boxers.

Lip was naked leaning against the wall as Y/n and him makeout.

"Climb up on the bed..." Y/n mumbles against his lips signalling him to get on the bunk bed. Lip pulls his body away before quickly getting on top of the bunk with Y/n following behind him.

While Y/n takes off his own clothes Lip watches him with his heart beating against his chest.

After Y/n was done Y/n crawled closer to Lip giving him one quick gentle kiss before towering over him. Lip was under Y/n as they shared kiss back and forth.

As Lip was distracted Y/n used one of his free hands to run up Lip's thighs going further and further until he finds Lip's virgin hole.

A breath hitches in Lip's throat feeling something pierce inside him.

"F-fuck! O--ohhh god!~" Lip gasps out as his hands grab onto Y/n's shoulders in surprise. Y/n's finger moves deeper inside Lip causing hi to breath out cuss words and complaints.

Y/n moves his finger side to side stretching him out. Lip buries his head to the crook of Y/n's neck as soft moans escape. Y/n begins to finger Lip faster, but still gentle. Y/n's finger curled and grazed into his prostate causing Lip to scream and moan out in pleasure. "I'm going to add another finger alright doll?" Y/n warns before slipping another finger inside.

This time Y/n curled both his fingers inside him reaching inside him deeper.

After a while when Y/n decided Lip was ready he slowly pulled his fingers out gently. Lip let out a quiet whine feeling the emptiness.

Y/n laid Lip down on his back before crawling in between his legs. Lip had his legs spread open wide as he felt the tip of Y/n's cock grind against his hole.

"It's gonna hurt for a while, but then it will go away alright." Y/n says giving Lip a kiss to distract him. With grinding his cock against Lip's hole for a little longer he slowly moves inside him. Lip groans inside Y/n's mouth from discomfort.

Y/n held onto the bed as he slowly entered inside Lip's tight hole.

"Fu-fuck!~ yo- your~ Gah!~" Lip moans out pathetically couldn't even finish his sentence properly. Only inside half way inside Y/n gave Lip a minute to relax and breath. Lip eyes began to water as his body relaxed into Y/n's cock. Once Lip was less tense and uncomfortable Y/n went back to moving slowly thrusting his cock back and forth.

Y/n only fucked Lip with half his cock pulling out until the tip was inside then to thrust forward back to halfway. Y/n rocked his hips back and forth in rhythm. Lip's walls tightened around Y/n's cock as loud moans fell from his lips.

Suddenly catching Lip way off guard Y/n thrust his cock fully inside Lip. Y/n's cock stretched Lip's virgin hole in half. Lip let out a gasp for air from the sudden length inside him. Lip's own cock ached and twitched with precum leaking from the silt.

Y/n began to thrust back and forth cock going deeper and deeper inside him.

Y/n's hips rocked in and out slowly as his thrust began to pick up the pace. Lip held onto the sheets under him as Y/n moved faster.

Eyes rolling back to his head slowly Lip's mouth hung open as long strained moans rolled out. The Gallagher legs quivered and trembled. Y/n's cock drilled deep inside Lip as Lip was completely dazed.

Y/n pulled out suddenly causing Lip to come back to reality.

"Wh--wha?~ Why'd you pull out?! Please get back inside!~" Lip moans out in confusion as he wiggles his ass to Y/n. Y/n only let out a chuckle before moving back inside Lip. Once the tip was back inside Y/n thrusted his entire length inside Lip. Lip let out a loud moan as Y/n fucked him like he hated him.

Y/n's thrust was no longer sweet and gentle and Lip loved it more than anything.

Lip through his head back into his pillow as Y/n drilled his cock deep inside him. Y/n's cock abused and stretched his hole. Loud wet skin slapping against each other filled the room.

At that point Lip moved his hips down and up matching the speed of Y/n's thrust.

Y/n thrust was deep and hard as he felt his cock twitch inside Lip's hole. Y/n's thrust became sloppier and faster feeling his orgasm nearing. The same thing with Lip he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Y/n moved his hands on Lip's waist hoisting up him in his lap.

Lip began to ride Y/n bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow. Lip held onto Y/n's shoulders to stabilize himself as he moved up and down onto Y/n's cock.

With a few more thrust Y/n came deep inside Lip coating his walls white with his hot load. From the sudden feeling inside him Lip shot his load right after his cock shooting his cum landing on Y/n's chest and some landing on himself. Lip bounced on Y/n's cock riding out his orgasm.

Once they both were out of their highs they held onto each other tightly. Both of their bodies relaxed into each others own.

"Hey babe..." Lip breathes out raising his head up from Y/n's shoulder. Y/n let out a hum signalling him that he's listening.

"I want you to fuck me again. And this time don't fucking stop." Lip says with a smirk as he moves back up on Y/n’s cock.

THE END

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagaher x male reader #lip gallagher #shameless x male reader #shameless x reader #shameless #x top male reader #x dom male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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ficcidio · 11 months

Text

FINE LINE

pairing: idol bf!chris x idol!reader

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: hateful comments, swear words, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader has an anxiety attack, and has a trauma with bullying, i think that’s it

a/n: everytime i listen to this song i imagine this situation and i needed to write abt it, hope u like it love u <3 (not proofread btw)

ᯤ now playing: fine line by harry styles

— 시작

“she’s so ugly” “they shouldn’t have made it public” “how can he be with someone like her?” “is this a joke?” “chan deserves better” “i hope y/n dies.”

those were the comments you were receiving for these last two hours. dispatch had just revealed your relationship with chris and you were already receiving threatening, hateful messages. you didn’t want this, you didn’t chose it. you were so mad and so hurt. why would they do it without your consent? what if you were going through something? which you actually were.

2 a.m, you couldn’t sleep. you didn’t read not even one nice comments. they were all talking about how bad you are for him, how you don’t deserve it, how they want you dead. your past memories came in flashbacks and tears started running down your cheeks, you couldn’t stop crying loudly, not even thinking about how much noise you were causing. chris had already left you 20 messages and 3 missed calls but you just couldn’t answer. you didn’t have energy, it’s like they had taken everything from you and your sadness was the only thing left.

you threw your phone, not caring if it broke or not, only focusing on your thoughts, your memories triggering you. remembering your old self being hurt, called things, threatened, being humiliated publicly. before you even noticed, you couldn’t breathe anymore. you were fighting just to get some air. your phone rings again, and again, and again. you lost count on how many messages and calls you received, but your fear and embarrassment were much more important. you were incredibly scared.

you didn’t know how much time had passed until you heard the door open. it was chan. you situation was still the same, crying, being hard to breathe. you truly wanted to pretend it was fine, didn’t want to worry him, but you couldn’t stop the tears and the loudness was unstoppable.

you heard quick steps, probably running to find you. when he finally heard the sobs coming out of the bathroom, he entered the room as soon as possible and looked down at you laying on the floor. he kneeled and removed the hair that covered your face. there he found your beautiful eyes with tears in them, letting them fall, loudly crying. “my baby” he whispered as he lifted you from the floor. he sat there and put you on his lap. he kissed the tears on your cheeks softly while hugging you tightly. his warmth made you feel like all the air you needed was finally coming through your lungs, finally breathing normally

“shhh, it’s okay baby” he comforted you as he patted your head and you tried to hold your tears. “it’s not” you finally talked “they all hate me”

“they don-“ you didn’t even let him finish “they do, chris, they want me to die” you hid your face in the crook of his neck as you kept crying uncontrollably

“those people are just mean. don’t let them control your life, pretty. don’t think about them. it’s just me and you now, yeah? they’re not getting in between us. i won’t let them”

“but what if they do something to you? what if the company doesn’t accept us?” you said quietly, trying to catch your breath while sobbing

“i will fight for us, y/n” he started “i won’t let anyone put a finger on you, nobody will touch you as long as you’re with me. nobody will hurt you, i will protect you with my life”

“i’m scared…” you said in a thin voice that could barely be heard

“i know you must be terrified, but you’re not alone, yeah? we’re in this together. we’re more than a couple, we’re a team, and i refuse to come here if it’s not with you holding my hand” he stated “my love, i don’t care losing my job, my fans or my fame. none of them are as important as you are. you’re essential, you’re needed. i only care about you right now”

you felt his love in every of his words, he never failed to make you feel appreciated. he gave you a beautiful sweet smile that calmed you down almost immediately. the tears started to slow down until they finally stopped. meanwhile he was mumbling that one song you always listened to together. all those hurtful memories were no longer there. peace. relieve. that’s what you felt. maybe all this comments were still there, but you were no longer alone. actually, you were never alone. he held your hand tightly and used the other one to grab your face gently and make you look at him

“you just hold my hand like this, and you’ll see how everything bad comment, every threat, every single one of their words will no longer mean anything to you. always walk by my side. i’m not gonna leave you behind.” he kissed the palm of your hand a couple times and a smile appeared on your face. “there it is. your gorgeous smile” you couldn’t help but giggle and kiss his cheek softly

he lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. he quietly put you in the bed as he did the same. you felt tired from crying, your eyes hurt so much and they felt so heavy. he kissed your head and hugged you warmly. “if anyone wants to separate us, they will have to bring down a torch from heaven and set us fire” he whispered. you smiled and clung tighter to him.

“we’ll be alright, beautiful. we’ll be okay as long as we stay together. and we will” he promised, and you fully believed him. you knew he was right. he always was.

#skz #straykids #ficcidio #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan comfort #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bangchan x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader

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