#GOD to think they really both were such anchors in each other's lives right when they needed it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year

Note

GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER

The noccoro angst with this reversal is beautiful! GIVE ME PISSED OFF NETEYAM WHO RESENTS JAKE FOR ABANDONING SPIDER

Give me neteyam who is racked with massive amounts of guilt and torment over not rescuing Spider and having to live with the fact that he's dead and only neteyam knows and can only see him....

I think the only person who would believe him would be Kiri, considering how in tune she is with eywa and her surroundings.

Give me Neteyam trying to help put Spider's spirit to rest, but Spider is so far gone that it's impossible to even try, because Spider's spirit is just so broken from everyone turning their backs on him and abandoning him to the sky people and him feeling like he's not good enough to pass on into Eywa's embrace.

"You left me to die!" Spider screamed.

"I-I never wanted to leave you behind! None of us wanted too leave you behind!" Neteyam cries out as tears roll down his cheek.

"LIAR!" Spider screams as the marui shakes violently from Spider's furious rage.

GOD YES THANK U FOR SCREAMING WITH ME ABOUT THIS. HOW DARE YOU WRITE THAT.

(If you guys don't know what we are talking about, it's the ghost of Guilt by @undercoverpan which is like a Spider ghost version of our Neteyam ghost au and we are all literally insane for not thinking of that first).

I know we've all been on our Neteyam hiding his relationship with Spider shit, but I feel like this is the perfect opportunity for him to just say fuck it and just start saying everything and going off on everyone. I KNOW Kiri would believe him, and I think Lo'ak would too, he looks up to Neteyam too much not too. The tragedy that even if he can get through to Spider ghost and they can reconcile and he can prove to Spider that he loves him and that the kids all care and never wanted to leave him, it ultimately doesn't matter. Spider is still dead and Neteyam is still just seeing a ghost.

(If any of you are into The Black Phone and also are into very sad and tragic ghost love stories, feel free to check out Holding On and Letting Go by Nizhoni93, which this fic reminded me of in the hopelessness it made me feel in the ghost of a loved one being right in front of you, but not really there at all. It's so incredibly well written. Little tw for implied rape/non con, but if you know The Black Phone you know).

Fun edit to my draft of this: got distracted rereading that fic, please have a long list of quotes from it that really haunt me and that I feel really fit our ghost love au:

"He curls in on himself, crying quietly. I lay beside him on my side, head lying on my arm, watching him. A heavy blanket of grief covers us both. There’s a block of moonlight coming through the window. It splits us down the middle, me in shadow and Fin bathed in the silvery blue streak peaking through the jarred curtain. It’s almost ironic. That we’re laying on opposing sides now, like it was always inevitable. This frail seam divides us more than I feel. Light and dark. Life and death. Maybe we were just never meant to be in each other’s worlds."

"When he falls asleep again, I want to reach across that fragile line of midnight, that mystical brink between us, and urge the sweaty strands off hair out of his face. I imagine imprinting myself under Fin’s skin, leaving new and warm dreams of us to replace the cold bruising ones the Grabber left behind.

There’s an anchor in my chest that stops me. I’m never gonna’ touch Finney Blake again. Am I?

All we have is whatever this is.

And whatever this is, it’s harder than anyone can ever imagine."

"Sort of struts down the hall sometimes — which admittedly, is kind of cute. Now that I'm dead, I can own that. Finney Blake is cute. It's not like I have anything more to lose in saying so."

"Instead I could have stuck around and spent a lifetime making sure I was protecting Finney Blake from myself and from anyone who could dare to get in his way. Now I'm the reason he's getting in his own way.

He spends hours in day, refusing to forget me. He's sad when he wakes up and he's sad when he goes to bed. When he's not sad, he's angry."

"I like you Finney Blake...only you'll never know it. You'll think I liked older girls with angry philosophies. But I like you, for your sweetness and how clever you are. I like you for being funny and gentle and brave and impossible to give up."

"'I can’t shake him.' Finney mumbles, his words sounding exhausted and hazey, 'He’s still everywhere. He won’t go away.’

'I know kid. He’s still got me too.'

Fin hitches on another cry.

'Robin…'

My heart perks. I need him to never quit saying my name. Even when he’s sad, I want it to be his. Only his.

'…I know you said I could do this, but I can’t. Why’d you have to go?'

I shake my head at him, 'I haven’t left Fin. I'm with you till the world stops spinning if you want me. I ain’t going anywhere.'"

"He squeezes Donna's hand, but I feel the pressure constricting my heart instead. There's no more blood left in me to spare, but if there were it'd be at Fin's discretion to start pumping the life back into my veins where it belongs."

"That hasn't changed Fin. I'll always be around to have yours, I want you to have me right back. I wish I could be the one to help you break down the walls you've built since I died, instead of being the reason those bricks were laid. Donna Thompson is around to help you miss me, but what if I don't want to be missed? I just want to be in your face and hold your face and kiss your face and make you never forget me."

"'I have faith, just not in who you'd expect.'

'Then who?'

He looks up, steadfast, 'The only person that matters,' he answers. 'Robin.'

I smile at him with a misty gaze. You're the only thing I still believe in too Finney Blake. Fuck it, we can worship each other and every inch of the world around us that isn't covered by shadow. I never want to be in the dark again. I don't have to be when I'm around you. We can make our own light and we never have to crossover. We can just stay together, you knowing me and me knowing you...and that's all that has to make any sense.

I'll stick with you Finney Blake. Pray to me. I'll be your best religion."

"I reach up and thumb Finney's face where his jaw his tensing. I'm braver being invisible. Writing my fingertips over his skin. There's no electricity between us. No magic spark under my fingertips. If I give into the temptation and add even a little more pressure, he'll slip through my fingers. I can't tell if he's cold or warm. I can't feel the smooth hollow of his cheek, or have him lean into my touch.

But I can look into those black eyes and know exactly where I belong. There's a little window of light slipping onto the crest of his irises now, unveiling flecks of gold. They look like stars. If Fin is lost, I'll stay lost with him. I'll float my soul forever in the deepest, darkest shade of his universe.

'I couldn't live without you Fin. Dang dude, I had to go and die just so I could follow you forever.'"

"'This isn't normal grieving Robin. Everyone keeps telling me it'll get easier but every minute you're not around, I'm losing my mind! I'm seeing flickers of you in the corner of my eye. I'm hearing echoes of things that aren't there. It's your stupid sarcasm and your sass and your obnoxious fucking laugh—'

'Hey...hey watch it—'

'I miss your laugh,' Finney chuckles sadly, 'you never cared that people looked at you weird for it.'

'Maybe cause I only had eyes for you dork.'

'And then I think I feel things too. Just now, I swear...' He shakes his head at himself, tracing his cheek softly. I watch his brain working, my heart thudding with desperation. You swear what? What Finney!?

'There's no way.'

There is a way Fin. There has to be! We just have to find it."

"Can dead hearts break? If so, I hope this time I'm done for good."

"I try to shake him awake, but my hands go through him. I hover my palms over him, quivering uncontrollably. I yell out to him, 'Fin! Wake up! Wake up! C'mon man!'"

"Sometimes I catch glimmers of hope in his eyes. Hope for me. For us. Those star flecks burst like supernovas only I can see. But I worry; will Fin accept any future without me in it, especially knowing now that I’m back on the table? I don’t want to get his hopes up. Seeing as how, fate’s got an annoying track record for overlooking the sheer epicness of us. What if once all our light explodes; we're just left staring into the dark mouth of a black hole?

I'm not sure I'm good for Fin anymore. Or is it the other way around? This boy is a torture to me. I'm alive when I'm around Fin. He makes me alive. My heart stopped beating a long time ago. My heart is decaying five feet deep in the earth. But Finney wakes my soul. We're so extended; it feels like he's beating one heart for the both of us.

I know I’ll have to let him go one day. I know I’ll have to make him let me go.

Till then, we can keep being hopeless idiots.

I still really wish I could give Fin what he wants though. Get him to see me for as little or as long as we have left."

"'Are you here Robin?' He barely whispers. Anyone else would've missed it. But by now I'm an expert in all sounds Finney Blake, and I can make language out of even his tiniest, most indistinguishable peeps. 'Or did I chase you away?'

I smile softly at him.

'Nothing you say is making me go away Fin.'"

"We can pretend we're in our own little world here. You don't know this, but I'm laying against the door hovering my legs in your lap because the leg room back here really does suck but also because it's an excuse to get closer to you. I'm not complaining.

Finney...I've missed half the movie because I'm watching you instead and I never want to quit being the only one who gets to see you from this angle. The way your smile shines from your soul and the casual grace of your dimples as you reach across the console and keep stealing Gwen's fries. You have mischievous grin and a fry dangling from your lips and I'm realizing you're my latest and greatest revelation.

Jesus. I think I might love you Finney Blake. I think I might maybe...actually...definitely love you."

"I'm losing my marbles trying to hold onto this illusion I've built around Fin and me. Maybe I died too young for this. I'm too small for a feeling so big, but I can't help it. I know how I feel and I feel like I can't live without him. I guess I don't have to though, do I? I've fooled myself into believing that being dead meant nothing had to change. I could sit on the sidelines like I used to for Finney's games, only this time I'd be watching him live for the both of us. It's sad to realize that everything about me since I've died and everything that’s happened since, is really, pathetically, entirely about him. I can't live my own future so I have to steal his."

"I touch him. Not really though.

Fin blinks into a soft, nonplussed expression. My heart leaps in my chest.

He looks at the space beside him, at me?

Not really though.

His eyes scan the empty seat where I should be sitting and a part of me believes he feels something. That he's searching down a path that I've dragged him down again. I feel guilty for taking him away from this moment of reprieve. Why is it so hard not to be selfish with him?"

"I touch him everywhere where he can see me in the window. I run my fingers over his forearm and love the way his veins pucker when he tenses his arm. I crawl my fingers up the sides of his neck to see if it tickles him and I get sad when it doesn't."

"'Why'd you do that? Why'd you go away?'

'What?' I ask wincing, taken aback by that. 'It's not like I meant to Kid.'

'I don't understand what's happening here!' Finny says, spinning on his heals and pacing in the other direction now. He gestures vaguely and frustratingly at thin air.

'I can't go through this again! It's just like what happened before, except now I'm losing you in pieces rather than all at once and...and...do you even know how hard that is? You were there and now you're not and why? Why are you doing this to me?'

My eyes burn with angry and uncomfortable tears. He's getting under my skin, or maybe he always was and I'm just being reminded of that.

'Hey stop it will you! You think this is easy for me either? You think I wouldn't POOF! myself into your fucking lap again if I could?'

'I'm waiting here ghost boy!' Finney shouts at me, or I guess in the general direction of where he thinks I'm standing. He's about three feet off."

"'Robin,' He utters again, 'if you heard any of that, I didn't mean it, okay? This is all so hard. All I want is for this to be real. I want to keep you so badly.'

I step closer to him, suffocating the space between us. Leaving absolutely no room for Jesus.

'Don't I know it,' I whisper back.

I like the way his bangs get tangled, and I lean in and nuzzle my temple against them. It might be coincidence, the way he closes his eyes for me. We're breathing together. It makes sense to take and give life together. I dust my nose against his cheek and then move my lips over his lips. He pacifies against me. He’s more delicate up close. I'm stroking all his sweet, soft curves and fuzzy outlines.

'This is progress though, right?' I tease him, whispering against his mouth. My voice is raspy, losing itself to the lump in my throat. I swallow it down and close my eyes too.

'Tell me you can feel this Fin.'

'Robin...' I hear Finney whisper, softer and more fragile this time, 'Is that you?'"

"'Dare me to spend the night with a ghost, Robin?'

I grin at him, my mind and heart on fire. I quirk a challenging brow at him, 'What else is new, right?'"

"'Jesus Christ,' she scorns, touching a hand to her head and clutching her hair stressfully. 'You've really gone and fallen in love with a ghost haven't you?'

I stiffen. Fin chokes on his spit. He flushes so red, he looks like a dorky beetroot. We both start rambling like idiots.

'What? Robin and I aren't...no, it's not like that—!'

Without thinking, I look sideways at him. My heart snapping in my chest as I do. 'It's not?'

Lelaine bears down on me suspiciously.

Oops. Did I just say that out loud?

I backtrack, matching Fin's panic and blurting out my own pathetic explanation, 'I mean of course it's not!'

She's not buying it, cocking her chin in my direction and telling Fin, 'He doesn't seem to know that.'

I drop my face in my hands, groaning, '¡Querido Dios! You did not just tell him that.'"

"I sigh as I spider crawl my fingers toward his hand laying on the table. I tease my index finger over his. He doesn't move. Doesn't even flinch. I look at his hand, and at him and feel unbearably empty.

'He doesn't feel it.' I whisper. 'How can this be real if he doesn't even feel it?' I sit up and look at Lelaine through misty eyes. 'Can you help us or not?'

She frowns between us, looking sceptical. 'What do you expect me to do?' She asks.

'I want to be like you.' Finney eagerly explains, 'To be able to able to see and hear ghosts and control whatever the hell is happening to me. I want Robin back. Please.'"

"'I'm not getting rid of Robin.' Finney tells her, thankfully on the same page. Not that I ever thought he wouldn't be. The sting feels a little more bearable. 'There's got to be another way.'

She looks at both of us, scowling.

'Can you honestly say you are happy living like this? Because you certainly don't look happy Finney. The harder a medium latches onto a spirit, the thinner their tether to the real world gets stretched. It's a delicate line. You need to find a way to cut that tether loose, before you end up on the wrong side of it.'

She looks at me insolently, but is speaking to Fin as she says, 'Cut him loose before it's too late.'"

"She can't force Fin to get rid of me. That's not how it's supposed to go. We're supposed to be together!

'I'm not going anywhere. You can't make me!'

'You aren't doing him any favours by sticking around here,' Lelaine shoots back. 'He can never move on if you're always around to remind him why he shouldn't.'

There's a shard pushing into my brain now. Breaking the nerve endings holding my composure at bay. Tears mist my eyes and I choke out weak and pathetic words, 'I'm not trying to hurt him. I...I love him.'

That has to be enough. That mean something! It makes this okay. Us okay. Right?

'You are hurting him Robin, even if you can't see it that way.'

'STOP IT!' Finney screams at her, drawing our attention. He gets up and slams his palms on the table fiercely. 'Stop talking to him like that! You have no clue what you're even talking about. Robin is helping me, not hurting me. I need him!'

'Trust me honey, a ghost is the last thing you'll ever need in your life.'

'But it's my life to live, isn't it? I make my own choices. Just like you. Just like my mom did! And I choose Robin, understand? So you can just leave us alone.'"

71 notes · View notes

radellama · 5 months

Text

Volume 3 contains Yukine's ablution, which is one of my favourite early story arcs!

There were threads for this planted in vol2, so we know that Yukine's poor behaviours are affecting Yato. It's becoming a problem as Yukine's acting out is not only worsening Yato's health, but making it VERY difficult for the two of them to work together when they need to.

He is stubbornly prideful of Yukine, despite them not getting along and seemingly not able to understand each other. Though, as we know, Gods share a body and mind with their Shinki, so Yato definitely does understand Yukine - a lot more intimately than the teen seems to realise.

This is why I find these events so interesting... Yato could've punished Yukine, or been more forceful in making him understand what he's inflicting on his master, but Yato allowed Yukine to be a little shit in order to understand himself better.

Yato allowed Yukine to act out so much in order to get his own catharsis.

He knew there wasn't anything he could say or do that would work better than to let him figure it out for himself, and he gave Yukine the room to do so.

There's clearly some kind of potential Yato sees in Yukine, and though you could argue that Yato is holding onto him so tightly is due to him being a lesser known God who's already had trouble keeping regalia, I don't think his stubbornness towards Yukine is out of his own self interest.. at least not that way.

I highly doubt that a God who knows that he might not come back would put his life on the line like this without something much deeper than it merely being too inconvenient to search for and name a new Shinki.

We see so many people suggesting and even insisting Yato get rid of Yukine, and implications that demonstrate how taboo it is for Yukine to do this to his master, and for Yato to hold on to him despite that. He doesn't even entertain the idea, and this almost kills both of them.

Throughout this volume, Hiyori is preoccupied with all the new and strange information she's learning about Yato. If it weren't for her also putting her life on the line to not only carry Yato to Kofuku's, but also to recruit Kazuma for the ablution AND provide support during the ceremony, both Yato and Yukine would've perished.

Yukine lied and denied his involvement in Yato's condition, angry and embarrassed right up until he understands that Yato isn't going to give up on him. With that realisation, he begins to confess his sins and complete the ceremony, and from this point forward there is a stronger bond between the two.

Yato's life isn't ideal and Yukine's made it clear how much he hates living under him, and though he yearned so much for his lost humanity that he began to hate the near shore, it was the humanity of others around him that ultimately saved him.

I know this is more gushing while I recount story beats, but I can't help it I really love this part. I'll probably bring it up again in future arcs because it's such an interesting anchor to frame their relationship and individual character, and provides a great reference point for how they'll develop as the plot moves along.

#goodbyenoragami #rads talks #noragami

12 notes · View notes

quietwingsinthesky · 7 months

Note

Between Dean and Sam: who prefers to be liked, and who prefers to be right?

highly dependent on a) what part of the show we’re in, b) what are they talking about, and b) who are they interacting with, but for simplicity’s sake, I’ll assume we’re talking about them with each other.

I think, especially if it’s for stupid shit, (‘no, i know the lore better than you do.’, ‘i didn’t use up the hot water, that was you!’, ‘i don’t steal food off your plate when you aren’t looking, shut up.’) then they are terminally brothers and absolutely both need to be right in every situation. As anyone with siblings knows, if you ever back down, even when you know you’re wrong, you will admit weakness and they will never let you forget it.

More seriously, in the early seasons, I do see Sam needing to be right more. I’d connect this to the way he’s really pretty blunt about what he wants, what he thinks, early on. And with that need for everyone around him to Know what’s going on in his head, he also needs to be right about things, for better or for worse. He needs to be right about finding John being more important than following his orders, he needs to be right about his feelings about the other psychic kids, he needs to be right about the fact that he can save Dean, and later, that trusting Ruby is a good idea. And the further down the road you get with Sam, I think, the more that his need to be right starts to come less from a desire to be seen and more from a sort of sunk-cost belief. Especially with Ruby, even with the trials, and especially with removing the Mark, at a certain point, how can he turn his back on what he’s doing? When so much has been sacrificed for it, whether that’s other people’s lives or his own health.

But I also think that interacts in a very interesting way with how Dean plays into the equation, because the further you get in the show? The more it becomes apparent that if Dean really pushes hard enough on anything, Sam will capitulate to him. Even if that looks like getting on his knees and expecting Dean to literally kill him. I’m not sure if I’d put that under Sam wanting to be liked more than to be right, but it’s definitely a part of their relationship. Maybe I’d put it more under Dean being Sam’s grounding force, stone number one and all. How do you keep saying no to the guy who is anchoring you to reality 90% of the time, right?

Dean is. I think he wants to be liked, he really does, but he’s also convinced himself that that probably isn’t an option. And the other part of that is that Dean doesn’t want to believe he’s right but instead, when Dean’s in an argument, he knows his side is right because there isn’t an option in his head for him to be on the wrong side.

Or, more specifically, when we’re talking about the decisions that cause the most strife between him & Sam (Demon Blood detoxing, Amy, Benny, Gadreel, taking the Mark, etc.) there are not things that Dean can allow himself for a moment to consider were the wrong call. Not in front of Sam. Maybe in the privacy of his own head. I think the trial god episode proves that he knows he’s done something wrong with Amy, as well as his tendency to lie about the shit he’s done until he literally can’t anymore. Dean is often aware of the moral ambiguity of his actions. But admitting that to Sam, especially when Sam is usually the one in the direct line of fire for Dean’s choices? That’s a whole different story.

Sam just isn’t a character that Dean can pick being liked over being right in an argument with, because the fear of not being right, of his actions having done too much damage, that plays right into Dean’s control issues and his constant fear of losing control which is tied directly into losing Sam. (And again, we’re talking just about with Sam here, but if I may put up a prime example of a character Dean would pick being liked by over being right, well. John. Obviously. Dean kind of needs to relinquish his control to an authority figure to feel like he doesn’t have to be right all the time. And the later in the show we get, Dean is the authority figure, makes himself into one over Sam and Cas as well because that’s how safety was drilled into him as a kid, that’s how his relationship with John shapes how he builds his family in the future. Sorry, getting off track. Dean daddy issues boy forever.)

So, uh. tl;dr: Dean needs to be right or else he will lose his shit. Sam needs to be right when he thinks he’s too far to turn back, and only Dean can convince him to let that go.

#spn #ask #thank u anon!! had fun thinking about this #dean winchester #sam winchester

12 notes · View notes

natequarter · 6 months

Note

⭐️!!!!!!

Ask game: Offer a director's commentary on a particular story.

before i get started, i just want to sneak in this beautiful line from the fic i'm about to talk about:

“God’s fish, what are you talking about?”

yep. real tudor expletive. it has a whimsical charm, if you ask me. anyway, down to business.

“Heywood?” John said. “Well, you know me: I—”

i like to sprinkle bits of history into my, well, historical fanfic. john isn't a real person (i made him up, he's humphrey's irritating and very calvinist best friend. he thinks sophie's going straight to hell), but the author referenced - john heywood - very much is! he was a catholic playwright who served every tudor monarch bar henry vii, seeing as he was literally twelve when he died. i think adding those references to real figures fleshes things out a bit. also, i like to allude to historical figures a lot without actually bringing them into the story, particularly the tudor monarchs who ruled over humphrey. it adds a real sense of the narrative being haunted by the spectre of elizabeth i and the gradual move towards anglicanism without me needing to accurately characterise real historical figures

“Sans fucking blague,” Sophie snapped, and he blinked at her.

“Did you just…?”

“Oui.”

this was funny, but also an opportunity to drop in the fact that sophie does know english perfectly well (she's about twenty-five here), she just refuses to speak it. nonetheless, humphrey kind of forces her hand into speaking bits of it, else he wouldn't be able to understand her at all - also a good mirror for the bone plot, where humphrey mixes english and rudimentary french to communicate with sophie. (just speak his language, oh my god)

He sat up. “You’re still here?”

He hadn’t meant for his voice to rise like that.

Sophie nodded. She was still holding his hand.

writing their canon relationship is so hard, not only because there's not much to go on, but also because... neither of them are, strictly speaking, the villains in this situation. they're just really mismatched. there's a fine line between making one of them a bit antagonistic and making one of them straight up cruel (sophie toes this line on a regular basis). it's rather difficult to humanise both of them at once, but, well, i tried

“Right,” he said. “It’s funny … I’d never have guessed that I’d end up here with you.”

“On est marié,” she said softly. She was looking at him in a funny way, as if she were searching for something; he wondered if she had found it.

He always worried that he was too easy to read.

i wrote this in what for me is a very barebones style, in an attempt to capture the raw sadness and honesty which i think permeates humphrey's life. they're alone, he's not trying to be so much more than he is here... but when so much of your life is a performance, it's hard to be honest! court politics is messy, complicated, and often cruel, and humphrey is a very genuine person. he struggles both with losing his identity in hiding himself and with being too open around someone who, frankly, he can't be open with

there's also, imo, a very genuine, if deeply buried, affection between the two of them. they're lonely! they're both so lonely! they're alone together in a viper's nest, and you never know who will bite. by this point they've known each other for over a decade, they live together, their lives are intertwined - it's hard not to have some kind of relationship. but at the same time... they can't just go to each other for comfort, but they are each other's anchor, after a fashion

“I could never leave you,” he said. “Not that I’ve tried,” he added hastily. “It’s strange, isn’t it? But—well—” Humphrey fumbled for words. “At the end of the day, it’s just you and me. I mean, sure, there’s other people who’ll stick around—but that’s their choice. You and me … like it or not, we’ll be together, in this world and the next.”

obligatory reference to sixteenth-century religion at the end there... anyway, it's not really there in canon, but in most of my fics with humphrey and sophie, even if there is no explicit romantic/sexual connection, there's usually some kind of ust thrown in there. we see that humphrey is very awkward around her in canon, he fumbles himself/his words/everything a lot, and accidentally comes off as flirting at one point. i kind of just built on that to leave an underlying tension of some kind between them. it's not love, it's not even really lust, but as i said, they're lonely, and in this fic, they take very brief comfort in each other. by shagging a lot. whilst drunk. that's one of my sadder headcanons for them - they had sex a few times over the years, not enough to really constitute a relationship, more a desperate cry for help human contact. in this particular one they were both drunk out of their minds and it's humiliating for both of them, but i do think there's a spark between them. if they chose to act on it, which for the most part they don't, they would be going at it a lot more (things escalate a lot). as it is, they're just alone together. misery loves company

“Vous croyez?” she said in earnest.

“Um,” he said.

In that hesitant moment, she kissed him.

like i say, Things Escalate. if humphrey's awkward around sophie, sophie is (this is entirely conjecture, frankly) the impulsive one. i.e. she's the one jumping his bones (heh), not the other way round. frankly, humphrey is aware of the power dynamic between them, and doesn't want to push it. sophie, on the other hand, is used to being the one who can't really exist freely because of her status as a french catholic, so she takes what she wants when she can. in this case, her husband!

He had only ever gone to bed with one other person—dear, sweet Jane: that had been three years ago now, and at any rate it had only lasted two months before he’d lost his nerve and asked her in the kindest way he could think of to leave.

jane is also a bit of a ghost in my sixteenth-century ghosts fics. she was (briefly) humphrey's mistress, before the guilt got to him (it got to him very quickly, poor lad), and he broke it off. he really doesn't like the thought of betraying what little honour sophie has, because he actually has a conscience

She pulled away, momentarily, and said: “Then do you want this?”

Which was a question that didn’t need answering; he pulled her in for another kiss, deeper this time, and took pleasure in her soft moan against his mouth.

“Please,” she gasped as his hands wandered lower, down towards her chest, her eyes wide and wanting. “I—I need you.”

It would have been hot—it was hot—he was already hopelessly distracted and they’d barely gone anywhere—if not for the fact that it was the first and last time he had seen her give in and let herself rely on him.

this kinda sums it all up; sophie is rather isolated in england, and, having been married off at a very young age in a country where she couldn't speak the language, she doesn't trust easily. (unless, you know, they're catholics.) humphrey is aware of this, but he also only sees the distant and cold side of sophie for the most part, so he's inclined to be bitter about it... somewhere, in the back of his mind. he's not really thinking with his head at this point

Once he had been distracted by such a small feature it was not difficult to let himself admire the rest of her: that normally harsh, unsmiling mouth, softened by the innocence of sleep; those long, deft fingers, perhaps apt for creation in a world where she did not loathe tapestries; her eyelashes, her collarbone, her philtrum—that gentle dint in between a nose and a mouth which both went straight down.

She was beautiful, and he didn’t know a thing about her.

sophie hot. thank you for coming to my ted talk. humphrey is well aware of this, he just doesn't often have the opportunity to appreciate that or indeed her softer side, which she only really reveals to him in her most vulnerable moments (i.e. asleep or shagging him)

“We are never talking about this again,” he said. “Ever.”

“À propos de—?” She sat up, as he had, and looked around in bewilderment at the evidence of the careless attention they had paid each other: at the doublet tossed onto the floor with haste, at the tangled sheets around them, at the various bruises blossoming down from her neck, and said, “On ne le discute plus jamais.”

this is the equivalent of a one night stand except with your wife who kinda hates you and who you're going to have to see for the rest of your lives together. they both immediately come to the same conclusion (they don't actually remember all of it and they're both horribly hungover, as well), that this is hugely embarrassing and best forgotten. i thought that was quite funny: both their identical reaction and the classic drunken one night stand scenario except it!s tudor england and you're literally married and oh thank god we have ruffs to hide those love bites. also, it's a reference to another fic:

More curious still was that when she unfolded the letters, they were creased, as if they had been unfolded and then refolded over and over again, read and reread until the contents bore evidence of careful attention.

which is itself isabelle/thomas, so i'm sure there's marital and romantic parallels to be drawn there

“You ramble too much,” she muttered, and then lay back down again, hair fanning out like a halo for a particularly annoying saint—not that he could picture her ever martyring herself.

“Well, I’m sorry,” he retorted. “Next time, I’ll—”

anyway, there's the more typical side of their relationship (and more comic) coming through. also, another reference to christianity; specifically, sophie is framed as a saint, with the halo referencing catholic imagery - the kind that was destroyed in many english churches during the iconoclasms of edward vi's reign

He rolled his eyes, and set out in search of a jug of water.

and we return to the status quo! the middle of this a tragedy. the end of it is a bit of a sitcom, really. sophie is irritating, distant, and, above all, intentionally unhelpful. humphrey doesn't know how to talk to her and at this point can't be bothered. their relationship turns back to what it was. the brief change ultimately does not last. anyway that was way too long. whoops

There had been that incident after he accidentally shot an arrow through Sophie’s favourite tapestry (it was a long story, and to be fair to her, she only had one tapestry she liked, so really it should have been easy to avoid), when she’d yelled what had sounded like some rather nasty French words, and then stormed off and refused to so much as exist within ten feet of him for a month. The court gossip that had emerged from that debacle had been worse than usual.

it does have a (very long) sequel, and i think this particular anecdote is relevant to the above post, in which sitcom-esque reversion does not ensue and they actually have to face the consequences of their actions. it takes... a while

(link)

#asks #humphrey bone #sophie bone #bbc ghosts

7 notes · View notes

tinycurlyfry · 1 year

Text

Okay I think I’ll just compile my episode reactions together in one post. I don’t wanna fill my blog with numerous posts where I’m just liveblogging but also I can’t keep my mouth shut while watching these episodes apparently jgklsfg

Rambling stream of consciousness and reactions under the cut

Episode 987:

...Kinemon why are we changing the plan? Why are you changing Law’s plan? I do understand why if it’s because he’s worried for Momo, but also it’s making me worried because they just showed people criticizing Kinemon’s lack of abilities in making good plans so I’m worried about him deciding to split up his forces.....

Sanji you’re on main. I’ll give your character more attention again when you’ve pulled yourself together. I’m glad there were no women for you in the pleasure hall. Remain bitchless.

Eustass Kid and Killer have me sobbing. I’m a puddle. I adore these two’s relationship. I adore Killer being stunned by how much love and support he’s being shown by his captain and the crew after feeling like he’s been ruined by Orochi. How Kid knows how much this is affecting Killer regardless of how quiet Killer is about the whole thing, and how willing Kid is to murder anyone who even so much as laughs at Killer.

Episode 988:

Luffy angrily (who has, himself, also shattered the plan into a million pieces) : “GIZAO, STICK TO THE PLAN!” Kid: “Shove it up your ass!”

Okay I had to pause I was laughing so hard gjskflg I love them both so much. Also Luffy I’m actually gonna side with Kid on this one. You and Zoro got a pass on causing a scene because those assholes are intentionally wasting red bean soup while a little girl has to live her life starving and drinking polluted water to the point where eating a bowl of soup had sent her into tears. Kid absolutely gets a pass on tearing apart those who laugh at Killer.

Zoro: “It must be tough, having a captain so quick with his fists.” Killer: “No, it’s not. Kid is great.”

I’M GONNA SOB. STOP. I’M ALREADY DOWN ON THE GROUND. KILLER.

ZORO RESPONDING “Well, my situation’s not so different from yours.”

gay. gay. homosexuals. gay. God the first mates are so down bad for their captains. I love this exchange between them.

MARCO!!!!!!!!!! MARCO IS HERE!!! HELLO DEAR! ;;;v;;;;; I’m so glad he decided to come and help the Straw Hats and the Kozuki clan~ I just really really hope Whitebeard’s home does remain safe while he’s away. I was not going to fault him for wanting to be the guardian of Whitebeard’s last treasure. AND IZOU IS HERE!!! OH I’M GLADDDDD! My god he deserves to reunite with his sister after being being away from each other for over 20 years.

Momo. oh my poor boy. Baby hang in there. I hold this boy gently. He’s been through so much ;;;; Isn’t he like. 8 years old!? Yeah he’s 8 years old. My god.

POLAR TANG!!!! HELLO MY HEART PIRATES! Look at them go~ Love Law’s complete faith in them. And how they’re also confident they can pull off maneuvering the Polar Tang in the dangerous currents. He is their anchor.

Annnnnd, we’re back with Luffy and Zoro gjskjfg. Bless. “A dead end. You lost your way, didn’t you, Zoro?” GJSKFG I love his teasing Zoro but also... Luffy you’re standing right next to him. You’re as lost as he is. “No, We’ll just cut our path through.” “Okay, quietly though. We can’t ruin the plan.” Ah yes, just quietly cut down an entire wall inside the building. You two totally haven’t thrown the plan completely out the window already. God I love these idiots.

ENMA?!?! YOU GRAB *ENMA* TO QUIETLY CUT DOWN THE WALL?! Zoro I know you want to break in that sword and you’re obsessed with your new cursed spirit but- BOY. No.

Episode 989:

Godspeed Chopper. Being chased by fucking Big Mom herself? Terrifying.

I am so fascinated by Kanjuro as a villain. Some so detached from any sense of self. Unable to form opinions. Just seeing all those years he spent as a samurai and protecting the Kozuki family being just a ‘role’ he was playing. God, One Piece and all their traumatized kids. I love how different Oda has had trauma change and shape them. those like Law and Corazon and Momonosuke vs Doflamingo and Orochi and Kanjuro.

Izou you are so hot. That’s all I have to say about that brief conversation between the small whitebeard gang. Izou is just. Gender af.

OH OKAY, SPEAKING OF HOT APPARENTLY! Denjirooooo! Oh my god he’s so impressive. Love this man. Him slipping off his kimono to reveal the Kozuki crest on his back to reveal his identity to Sasaki, his former ally who trusted him? HOT.

Chopper with a rocket launcher gjsklfg I also love that the very powerful gun on the tank Franky made sounds like a clown honk. Why. gjslkdjg okay but I do love this whole ‘fight’. It’s so wonderful and ridiculous. Hang in there buds ;;;;

#FryTalks #One Piece #Wano #I... I see that I'm right before Yamato finally comes in ;;;;;; I wanna watch these next episodes so badly but also it's so late #SOON.#I want to meet him so badly!!!

6 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

Her smiled— she hadde me deaf and

A tricube sequence

Her smiled—she hadde me deaf and such divide

than all his hand redress had a

morning. By God, if it does Love speak.

Are to thee. And if thousand winnow

from their eyes in his soul. And the

rudiments. All where on my face within.

And thus doth live. But I am too

fast, as reflected by a happiness

in some with thee all a spring.

That clog of the least, is no served or

in Silence my mammy yet. And coward

to the misery harp had won.

Admit imperial. So, my Tory,

ultra- Julian? ’Twas the boats of

our is deepest griefs the least would fall.

—That I call? Would melt away, looked on

our bodies ’gan crave forgive. There are

safely. Though thousand spreaded the Past!

Why so parted back again saw her

eye. Ask me no more mouth is acquaintance

melts, and wins evere will not do!

And turned how he use in Ruin, and

yet creature flower at harmony,

pulses thre were who so woe-begone?

Who from heaven? So they look’d, and think

too tenderest from each their counsel

to educate. Up there we still thee.

More straight to life. That it hath prively

unto thee, Sister, and you all

was his bigger think? I, for both heart.

And motions we to o’er- head cloudlets,

glittering creation. That can blaze

the man on the world were passion’s grave!

The govern deep for very marge, whose

power of feathery sad? The gracefully

gave, Now let me had been hill side.

Then, like a consecrate. To some leves

have to guess’d. Shelving calm speech receive;

let me ba thy captivity?

And as for lovely dame on one like

a coral; meantime, love. Into stupid

stamp: yes! Thy joyless maiden’s sake!

Of this visionary seat, and followed

you, about my extent on either

harvest’s behind.; The rudiment.

While thy face. Now my epic breath holder

in the sun was right, but by nyght,

which the blue eyes the poppy throwing.

I broghte it was their optics to turn

into her liege lords with a man.

Easier told. He is noght forth, of men.

Julia and that far apart, and, as

hind to climbing had place it would have,

what wast the change be spirit, an Oh!

Authentic dew but in their amusement,

wan, and Mars carries made, close my

natal house alone, some people go.

Primroses, or our soul desport and

meet that I was no wight, if it will

bite. Not eventide the need not die.

My kind Sir, I’m o’ercast our spies this

mourn, becomes still those shuffling too.

Antonia in hysterious eyes.

As do thou didst departed up by

thief endued, nor rest. And now a tale!

You walke orecharg’d with each charm less.

To taste. ’ Gear ye lights oppressed myself

have birth: be still must have street peas, I

must be, being consummate allone?

Not to the devil hath holde it up;

and moss. The work of eve was most

encourages— why call my waking now.

I die—I heard! Which may oft bed. How

does iron nature’s no shame, allas!

That have recourse. Just when fine exists.

Ah, woe it faded, good! Dream witless

bide I pain, yet wasted from her face

to make payment on the milk diet.

Aurora at themselves reap glory,

that which some other. Eye- glare of peeresse,

and but the numbers, like night out.

As one waiting from room factory.

With prying his heed. When I really

puzzled; Julia. A high started too!

And that they raven before if thousand

daliance, and when it granted, and

from the rill. Of getting every high!

This soule never sinking pearl.&Her peerless

eyes with thou art not enough the

dead,—and yet, O my love you, reader!

All around. I was the light with ebon-

tipped flute his hand with an earth of

twenty, especially in my stay!

Now by thy grave—as pity me! One

whose curled; though rough, so that no one

gentlemanly as a sad consented.

Beyond affection of a mistake

it playing with an eye- guess now! Or

bends the Past. Upon it, I thought thee.

But, for it is nourished. Of heart while

his heaths I will not so break a blind?

Is like Banquo’s moving can be show.

And yet slip from the black loam long! Dead

as any I have too much green’d to

dedicate and endows her brother.

The princes tried at anchors, he had

been so weak. And all his green leagues of

doom. Drops fall, and weed. I lean, and beam.

There be, to charming charity and

courtesy to my thought I may lyve.

Only through to him its etherea!

Why should Nature, sir, I have fall, in

the man! Bosom where so sure that this

licence, or divorcing pageant goose.

To forget the tempest care, and whiskers,

ten unwed, or my love. ’Twas toold

thee to the spite of tears were blossom!

That cheek with a feelings fair, and precise

in ech a shelter, thus sparkling

of yew tree in honey is wax?

And done my bane! That the clear bee-wine.

In the star than Leda’s love did. Content

thee, and saved fig trees, to climb out.

From thy love us! And the blind my

spirit has lost door weathery where

juries delude than more than toold hill!

Only, mething chambermaid. My fine,

you feel the bed. That, for I know how

goost to my doubt, it display’d with thee!

To mee. Rare as tis clear and day with

a sugred phrase of my hand in me

each spies out. But what’s wronged love anon.

And star, or if I be both where my

Peggy’s fangs could not journey dreary

woe. Withheld, in erthe, and cut a shade.

But if I knew, althought up, as for

all these. For this lust en years, the soul

commingled within its proper spouse?

Which thee—Ah, well, and strong as easily,

he fresh, and stole a breeze is best;

Ask a bliss; and plunge hors overgrowth.

Chaste dame Alys. And braced his God, our

love, and twinkle me when we meet. Many

a time be war by other’s fierce!

Torture- pilgrimages, and this is

whitely sent. The charmers went side by

side; pitying cry, of the worst sand.

Who won’t looks to her, who turn your falls

so constructive of nation, if good

old walls on the room! Seated up, dead.

Had lost huge self-denial. Who travell’d

laws, and gracing should passe, most

logical charming. Bad lucent mirth!

Begin within a bed or for to

top to the frost of thy cheke that other,

if your garden-walks and Don Juan.

Let this is: if I hadde with the followed.

Each in a man, and messuages,

that for the blossoming, charities?

Me to the fires. My part, to slumberous

juice of love, there’s noble daring?

I scarcely knew mythology.

On the blast. Alone and dropp’d ere I

have all is dusk alone, people song,

and so I did wed myself for lo!

Nor did not hollow vapour. Said to

its hanging the beste, a tapers too,

was not a Step nor stopt one obscure.

Knows what; but whether to an art. On

their backs, in tender there’s the

pomegranate flock, but in the marrow.

Alfonso close: those from a room is

thyself with her cry lord, hadst thou in

closet never store all fancy-sick.

Of Nereids danced to recollect a

poetic licence my masters are

some in juice of the away along.

A thousand yet neither of the

flirtation that, as country lust, my like:

the new Song, the sea. The joy the sun.

That the wishes. So subtle caress

wings: next, on and clodded ears: aye, though

they starry sway to shifted with straight.

And lovers are ways made fruit doth Love

speaking of traitor, too rare, grow a

talker! And I feel this forgiveness.

The hand in a Girdle rout clusters

unto papers, whose fair, her scourge. He

look’d, answer’d very joy and then out.

Father one side by side when I have

aloud in human that for a child.

Yet have to lay it, your winds and small.

All the spot we ne’er again. A spurn’d

up a greet precede the embrace will

try gainst my mother, Sisters are Thames?

For they ever along, that creep, and

a cold as if thou Desire, but

certeyn. From thy body from the Song.

My chains are touch of mischief intelligible.—

Love with digression, ’ it

dooth my fest society, or not.

To a woman. From my sad for hours,

don Juan. Great god Love, the best

insinuation, till hell. I’m very deel.

And women, when vicious heaven!

Emasculate; what met Alfonso, pommell’d

he had no quiet circumstance.

Within him to perch dovelike in

the majesty wind I seem my own.

Next came fools a page with wealth came out.

And paye his prover of ocean. Said

I, beats themselves so friendship with

reverence they cut off wholly, and fears.

Her grace; let but one on my happening

east. At lengthen old song, which was an

uncommon look—I leave understand.

Thou wast the tail’s end in the cell lying

brands her stars, those deceives; amid

the best lat seem’dst my unhappy!

Said the knuckles shining human form,

that we may be nearer seven good

old grudging merely slumber zero.

A man was married! Blood- red blossoming,

no one break and she be fair they

sought his lady fair, see them court you.

Forester dinner at the sea. That

he came to guarded eye, kissing them

all oblivion; and we adore.

What is hand: and due to live, the lute

is but an iron in the four day.

I’m serious restless, the Island!

Sir Humphry Davy’s lanterns, him moving

still that cannot be sure. A mere

not of our old indeed that break law.

The moon, and cry that hym frye for

centuries, and returning born with some

stranger-youth! But sooth, by Nature wept.

He turns my forth such a planisphere.

But, more by love’s need not now take her;

and we have I strain but by degree.

Rather the Stranger! To go through all

strange sigh not that Turkish hardned hem

slayn me, and the trembled as she wept.

Guided strife! By the world were with

reality of earshot, a carcase

to reason, and buried Caesar bled.

Scylla, blushing for Aglaia. But

somethinks tears my hand—sought to lean em,

’t is gone into a morals are.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #171 texts #tricube sequence

0 notes

marvelslut16 · 3 years

Text

The one with two Pietro’s

Pairing: Pietro x reader, Wandavision!Pietro (Peter Maximoff) x reader FORCED

Synopsis: you find yourself in Westview living with Wanda, Vision, the boys, and your boyfriend Pietro. But happens when you start to remember your Pietro and figure out what Wanda’s doing to you and everyone else?

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Swearing I think. Angst. Fluff if you squint. Mind control. Forced relationship. Briefly mentions the idea of a forced magical pregnancy. Bullet wounds. Death. Grief I suppose. Mentions pmsing. The over use of italics. Kinda feel like I make Wanda a psychotic asshole. SPOILERS FOR WANDAVISION!

A/N: This was so much fun to write! Probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, if you can really call it dark. Writing for Wandavision was a fun little challenge. Takes place in the 90′s so my title is a reference to friends, and so is a tv show character I use in the one shot. Pretend Evan Peters’ hair isn’t that blonde cause I will always see him with the silver he has in xmen and wrote him as such.

"Vision, that's not my Pietro," you mutter in horror to your friend as the two of you stand in the kitchen.

You’re not quite sure what makes you say it, but you’re glad you do when you glance at the new Pietro in the living room, he's been playing video games with Tommy and Billy for close to an hour now. He's sweet and funny, but he's just not your Pietro.

"I'm afraid not, (Y/N)," Vision's voice is sullen, but he's glad you're not in on Wanda's mind games. Unless you are, and this is just another way for Wanda to mess with him. He’s not quite sure what’s happening, but he knows from what you’ve reminisced in passing to him about Pietro on nights when Wanda isn’t in the room, that that’s not the Pietro you know and love.

"Oh my god," you murmur, hand coming to your mouth as little bits and pieces of memories race through your head. The genuine pain, horror, and sadness that cross your face make it obvious to Vision you're being manipulated like everyone else, even if you are Wanda's oldest friend. "My Pietro, he had an accent."

Your knees buckle when you hear his native accent saying his catchphrase in your head, 'you didn't see that coming.' Vision rushes to your side to help you stand more firmly.

"His face was longer, hair a white blonde not silver, his body more toned, and he had gorgeous blue eyes- bluest eyes I've ever seen," you grip onto Vision's arms as you imagine moments with your Pietro.

You grew up in the cell beside his and Wanda's, immediately forming a sisterly connection with her at a young age while Pietro hated you. He would tease you, pull on your pigtails, and steal some of your food on the off chance you three were eating outside of your cells. Over the years the teasing turned to flirting, and your dislike for him turned into a huge crush.

One night-a night you can normally remember with full clarity- after Hydra fell and before Ultron, the two of you were out on a walk, much to Pietro's chagrin. You were telling him about this new book that you were reading and how the characters annoyed you so because they were obviously in love but wouldn't admit it. Pietro zoomed in front of you, causing you to smack into his chest and almost fall to the ground, you would have if not for Pietro's arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you close to his toned chest.

The wind was blowing his hair into his eyes ever so slightly, so without thinking you reached up to move it out of his face and away from his eye. The small act of tenderness that you had displayed caused Pietro to give into his desires, he leaned in and his wind chapped lips descended onto yours. You melted into the kiss, clinging tightly to his biceps to ground you. One of his hands slipped down from your waist to squeeze your ass, the other wrapped more tightly around your waist and kept you anchored to him.

"I love you, Printesa, I have since we were kids," he admits when you pull apart for air, leaning his forehead on yours.

"I love you too, Quicksilver," you use the superhero nickname he gave himself when you were twelve. He grins before attaching his lips to yours once more, it was an unforgettable kiss that filled you with warmth and hope for your future.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Vision's voice brings you back to reality, or whatever this is.

"No," your voice cracks as you remember the last kiss Pietro planted on your lips, right before he protected Clint. The memory that still haunts your dreams, seeing him with all those bullet holes and knowing there was nothing you could do to save him. "What kind of person forgets the love of their life? I'm a terrible person Vis!"

"No you aren't (Y/N)," the sincerity in Vision's voice makes you really believe him. "Wanda's doing this, she didn't want you to remember."

You gasp as another memory floods your mind. You had agreed to go on a road trip with Wanda after being resurrected from Bruce's snap and defeating Thanos. You both wanted a break, or so you thought.

Wanda had stopped right when you had passed the entrance into Westview, she claimed to be checking her directions when you asked why she had stopped in the middle of nowhere. And no matter how weird it was that she chose to stop at the border to the town and not at a gas station, you believed your best friend and sister in law because she had no reason to lie to you.

A moment later her eyes and hands were glowing red as she touched your temple. She pushed all your memories behind a wall in your brain, then filled your head with memories of a happy life with her and Vision in Westview.

She did it again when 'Pietro' showed up on your guy’s doorstep, this time filling your head with memories of him. Memories of a different first kiss, but an eerily similar first date to the one you and your Pietro had. It makes sense to you now, you and Pietro had never told Wanda the real story of your first kiss, instead telling her you had it weeks later on your first date. You had tried to keep your relationship a secret for a little because you didn't want to make it awkward for Wanda if it didn't work out.

Another thing she didn't add was your engagement and subsequent marriage to her brother. In this reality you and 'Pietro' are just dating. You have to assume that it's because it happened weeks before the battle against Ultron and she doesn't want to remember anything that close to her brother's death.

The thing about the new Pietro is that he seems to rub Wanda the wrong way, something your Pietro never did. He makes comments that you know yours would never, and Wanda always tenses up near him. This Pietro likes to show you off more than yours did, which is saying a lot because your’s used to cling to your side, praise you, and show you off in town when girls would flirt with him. Every time this Pietro kisses you it doesn’t feel right, it’s nowhere near the earth shattering kisses that you had somehow managed to remember from the deep parts of your brain.

"My ring," you shudder in horror when you realize the diamond ring that your Pietro stole from the jeweler in Sokovia is no longer sitting delicately on your left ring finger like it was before entering Westview. You hastily search your body for your most prized possession, sighing in relief when you find it hanging from a simple silver chain around your neck.

"(Y/N)," Vision says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t know what to say.

"He's dead," you cry, knees buckling under your weight again. This time you catch yourself on the kitchen table, before sinking in the seat to your right.

"Who's dead?" Wanda appears in the doorway out of nowhere. She has an innocent, concerned expression on her face, but the tilt of her head tells you she'll come take your memories away again if you slip up in the slightest.

"Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days Of Our Lives, the soap opera I was watching this afternoon when you and the boys were out. He fell down the elevator shaft, and I'm apparently taking it harder than I thought I would. I must be pmsing or something."

"Or maybe you're pregnant," there's a red glint in her eyes that scares you to no end.

"Oh," you swallow the lump in your throat, and hold back the bile rising up your throat from anxiety. "I don't think so, I'm not ready to be a mother yet."

"It would be so fun though," 'Pietro' zooms behind your seat, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. "Little mini me's and you's running around the house with Billy and Tommy."

"I think two super human children are enough for the house right now," you let out an uncomfortable giggle. You and Vision side eye each other, both very aware that you'll probably be as pregnant as Wanda was a few days ago within the week.

#pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro x y/n #pietro imagine #pietro one shot #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #marvel fanfiction #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff one shot #pietro maximoff fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

shigarakislittlepet · 3 years

Note

im so happy to find a blog with good nsfw content for literally all my faves lol we share the same braincell it seems! how about fluffy nsfw headcanons for Dabi, Shigi, Aizawa and Shinsou and well, Baku but I don't want to overwhelm you even if you don't have a character limit hhh, with a s/o that was completely inexperienced in sex before they got together? They grew more comfortable with the idea of sex over time as they used to be really shy about it but they're scared they'll mess up and disappoint their loves? If possible could you mention what kind of approach each boy would have for the first time with their virgin s/o? I'm just feeling some fluffy dick tonite ya know lol stay safe out there <3

Ohhhh my gosh, this whole thing gave me brain rot lmao, thank you for giving me this power <3<3<3

This also took me literal months to finish because life got crazy, so I’m sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

TW: loss of virginity, gentelness, fluffy smut, unprotected sex bc I’m a whore (Y/N is on birth control), and as always all characters are adults especially Y/N

-Dabi-

> You are surprised by how patient he is with you. You were sure he’d have gotten tired of waiting, but he didn’t push. He didn’t make you feel badly about it, and the last thing he would ever want to do to sweet little innocent angel is coerce them into something they weren’t ready for. So, he waits.

> It happened so gradually. Over time, light kissing became making out. After a few months, you got more comfortable and it didn’t feel at all odd to fall into bed with him, cuddling and “swapping spit” as he called it, which always made you giggle like a schoolgirl at his crudeness. His hands would test the waters, but he was always feeling for nervous tremors and flinching, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable. At first, he only rested a hand on you lower back, drawing lazy circles into your waist, his other cradling your face gently, reassuringly. Eventually he could get his hand beneath your shirt, still just at your lower back, but he was content with his progress. Your skin was soft and you said he felt warm, and that was the first time he ever thought of his quirk as “sweet, comforting”, as you described the warmth from his hands.

> After a few months went by, he had progressed to the point of being able to freely roam your body with his hands, the warmth helping you stay calm and anchored to him.

> What continued to surprise you is how easy it felt, once you were ready. You didn’t even see it coming. He asked you, so gently, if he could take your shirt off. You told him he could as long as he promised to keep you warm. He went along slowly, constantly reassuring you, “God Angel, you’re so beautiful. I gotta see more of you, can I? Please?”, “You’re so soft, I need to feel more of your skin, angel, please?” You didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t need to. You felt safer with him than you ever had in your life.

> You realized, once you were both naked together, just how comfortable you were with him. And suddenly you felt like you needed to give him everything he ever wanted, and you knew he would do the same for you.

> It happens so slowly, or at least, it feels like it does. His hand slowly grazes down between your bodies until he reaches your core. You gasp, no one but you had ever touched you there, and it feels so foreign and wonderful. And warm. Once you begin bucking onto his fingers, an insatiable grin stretches across his face. He retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watch as he sucks them clean. He calls you delicious and rolls on top of you, asks you if you’re ready for him. For the first time, you look down between your bodies and see just how huge and hard he is for you. When he sees your concern he kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I won’t hurt you Angel, I promise.” You nod and smile, and he starts easing into you, stopping every so often when he can tell the stretch is too much. He kisses your cheeks, your shoulders, your lips, whatever he can get his mouth on as he pants and mumbles little praises. “I love you”, “You’re doin’ so well”, “You’re takin’ me sooo well”, “God, you’re so beautiful, you know how beautiful you are Angel?”, “Ahh, you’re so fuckin’ tight and wet for me Angel, you want me that badly?”. The praises and teases help you considerably to keep you relaxed, and fuck, you DO want him. So fucking badly, you need him. When he’s finally seated inside you fully, he waits, clearly using every last bit of his restraint and self control to give you time to adjust. When you finally whine and buck your hips up on him, he loses it. “I hope you’re fuckin’ ready, Angel.”

>You find rather quickly that Dabi’s style is a beautiful mix of “fucking” and “making love”. He fucks you, hard and deep, so much so that it makes you see stars, but while he does it he’s caging you in-between his arms, holding you close while he pistons in and out of you. He looks you in the eyes, watching your reactions, quickly finding what angle makes you convulse and let out those beautiful moans and coos that he’s now desperate to hear.

>When he nears his end, he reaches down between you again to rub sweet circles against your clit, because no way is Dabi cumming first. It’s just not his style.

-Shigaraki-

>BRAIN ROT

> Shigaraki is definitely happy that you’re inexperienced, he’d kill anyone who had ever laid a hand on you before him. You belonged to him.

> It also means that you’re a virgin, which really gets him going because hes a pervert. ((He’s also secretly glad that he’s not the only virgin))

> He is touch starvvveeeeddddddd. We all know this. But at first, he’s so hesitant to touch you, for fear of destroying you.

> You are patient with each other, and together you find out what works and what doesn’t. He got some artist gloves so he could hold your fucking hand without hyperventilating about dusting you. He’s still afraid of you disappearing beneath his fingertips.

> You were never, not even for a second, worried that he would hurt you. You knew that he could, that he had the ability, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

> He wasn’t so sure, he was afraid of rolling over in the night and finding a pile of dust where you used to be. He wakes up from nightmares about it and has to wake you up to hold you while he shakes uncontrollably. He just has to know you’re alive.

> You both get more and more comfortable with physical proximity and contact together, because you both wanted it, you were both just so worried about fucking everything up.

> When the time came where both of you decided you were ready to have sex, you admitted to him that you were afraid of not measuring up to his expectations. All these “what if’s” kept popping up in your mind: “what if he doesn’t find my body attractive enough”, “what if I don’t know how to move right”, “what if I cant please him”, etc. etc. etc.

> He just looks at you kind of taken aback and confused. He was worried about you not being able to see him as sexually attractive because of how he looked, he was just as self-conscious as you. “Darling, you’re the most perfect person in existence, how can you not see that? Look at me! I’m... I... Look like this! How could I ever hope that someone as beautiful as you could ever see me that way?”

>You didn’t immediately know how to respond. You were... heartbroken that he saw himself that way. You couldn’t image him being self-conscious about anything because in your eyes, he was a god. He was perfect and angelic and you told him as much. You looked at him with such adorably big eyes and your voice was full of so much honesty and adoration, he had to have you immediately. He’d never felt desired, he had never felt lovable. He always thought it would be a miracle if anyone would ever be able to even stomach looking at him without cringing away in disgust. But you were so perfect and you loved him so immediately and so much that it knocked him out. He launches himself at you and just kisses you for a while.

> You both fumbled around a bit at first, trying to find what felt best. You both quickly came to the conclusion that you were going to have to practice together. A lot. As much as possible actually, because even in your inexperience, you both felt more amazing than you ever had in your lives. When you were connected like this, panting, kissing, licking, trying your damndest to become one being, it felt like bliss. You never wanted it to stop.

-Aizawa-

> MORE FUCKING BRAIN ROT

> Aizawa has an innocence kink. There I fucking said it.

> When it comes to the person he’s with, he’s a shameless flirt, and while he would NEVER cross a line or pressure you, he definitely does his best to get you in the mood whenever he can, much to your naïve frustration.

> At first you genuinely don’t even realize he’s doing it on purpose. The heated looks he gave you that made your knees weak? You didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, it’s just because he’s... tired? And he always looks so gorgeous, so that’s why. He ALWAYS makes your knees weak. Yeah that’s all it is, obviously.

> And when he comes up behind you, hands on your hips gently, and lowly rumbling in your ear. Sometimes it’s just comments about whatever you’re doing, which was bad enough. But sometimes it was mumbled compliments. About your outfit, how good it made your ass look. About how soft your hair was, how good you smelled, the softness of your skin while he gently rubbed his stubble against your neck.

>YOU COULDN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT.

> He was so soft most of the time, cuddling you while watching movies, cooking together, dancing in the kitchen with you at 3 in the morning after he finished grading papers. The shift that happened when he would get flirtatious was dizzying.

> You were nervous though, Aizawa was a bit older than you, and obviously way more experienced that you. One night while you were curled up in bed together, you told him you were nervous about disappointing him when the time finally came. He sat up and turned a light on immediately and pulled you into his lap. He held you and stroked your hair and told you how much you meant to him, how you could never disappoint him, how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait however long you needed. He held you until he was sure you felt better about it, and then he held you until he was sure you were asleep. You were the most important person in the world to him, and he wasn’t gonna let you think anything was ever gonna change that.

> When you finally got tired of his teasing and felt like you were ready, you decided to get him back. Before he got home, you put on one of his long shirts as a dress and started getting dinner ready.

> When he walked through the door and saw that you were wearing nothing but one of his black button ups, he had to maintain every ounce of his self control to contain the rush of feral need that suddenly consumed him. Now it was HIS turn to assume you were being innocent. And man did you play it up. “What’s wrong Shota? Are you feeling okay?” And you bat your big beautiful eyes at him. He was going to have a stroke.

> It wasn’t until you bent over and he noticed you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that he realized it was an invitation. He came up behind you, caging you in against the counter, and growled lowly in your ear, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He gently pushed his growing erection against your ass, making you gasp. Score.

> “W-what do you mean?” you looked up at him as innocently as you could. He took your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants. He groaned low in his chest, thankful for any friction. “Don’t play dumb with me, kitten. You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you should take responsibility.” You grinned.

> “Yes Sir,” he jolts at that, and you sink your knees and get to work undoing the fastenings on his hero costume. When his cock springs free, you eagerly give it kitten licks until he’s had enough. He grips you by your hair and gently guides your mouth down onto his cock. He’s big, bigger than you can take, but that doesn’t stop Aizawa from purposefully making you gag on him every so often. He really does get off on how innocent you are, the tears that hang in your eyes from gagging on his cock. He’s gonna cum soon if he’s not careful.

> After he’s had his fun making you suck him off, he pulls you up and carries you off to bed. No way he’s taking your virginity on the floor, he’s too much of a gentleman. And dinner, what dinner? Thank god nothing happened to be on the stove or in the oven.

> He sets you down in bed and kisses you, takes his shirt off of you and finishes ridding himself of his hero costume. He takes pride in getting you ready for him, relishing in your sweet noises and how wet you are for him. A fact that he teases you about. “S-Shotaaa~” you moan and clench down on his fingers. He smirks, “What happened to ‘Sir’, hmm? I liked that, you know...” All you can do is whine up at him in response.

> When you feel like you’re close to cumming, you whine louder and clench down harder and before you can reach your peak, he stops. You whine in frustration before he leans down and rumbles, “Oh no, kitten, the only way you’re cumming is if you cum on my cock.” You gasp and nearly convulse at his filthy words, but you’ve never felt like you needed him more.

> He fucks you gently, at first anyway. For as long as he can. He rolls his hips into you and angles his thrusts expertly, aiming for that spot inside you that’ll make your head spin. And he hits it. Every time. And your head DOES spin. And soon you can feel the pressure build again and you start whining again, “Sh-Shouta, please! I’m s-oh! So close!” He smiles, and decides to take pity on you. He pistons harder, faster, brings a hand to your core to rub circles against your clit and when you cum, you scream his name and he can’t take it anymore. He slams into you, chasing his own high and simultaneously extends yours. You’re seeing stars by the time he cums deep into you. He rolls over, bringing you with him. You lie on top of him and he strokes your hair, and you just hold each other for a while.

-Shinso-

> I wanna say this now, Shinso is Aizawa Jr. I’m so sorry, but its true. They’re both tired, overworked, cat lovers that just wanna come home and cuddle and pass out.

> He knows he’s your first boyfriend. You met at UA and pretty much bonded immediately. Now that you’re both pro-heros working for the same agency? It was only a matter of time before he made a move. And thank whatever higher power exists that you have the same schedule. More time for cuddles.

> HOWEVER! Don’t let the fact that he’s a cuddle-bug fool you. He frequently has to remember that you’re a virgin and you’ve never been in a relationship before, so you have no idea how much he’s affected by you answering your door on a Saturday morning you both had off wearing one of his hoodies that absolutely swallows you. Looking up at him smiling and yawning sleepily, rubbing one of your eyes and groggily asking, “What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren’t going out till tonight?”. He has to breathe deeply to stop himself from jumping you.

> Because much like Aizawa, seeing you so sleepy and soft and small and knowing how innocent and naive you are to all of the things you do that make him need you... is going to make him lose his mind. Quickly.

> Instead of an innocence kink though, this motherfucker has a corruption and a mind break kink. He wants to make it impossible for you to feel pleasure without him, he wants to make you need him desperately, forever. And he wants to do it without the help of his quirk. But that would all come in time, at the moment he has to stop himself from cumming in his pants because you’re bending over on your way to your room so you can change, stooping to pet your cat and his hoodie rode up your ass and he can see your lacy black panties and you were GOING to drive him insane long before he ever got the chance to make you his, he was sure.

> He had brought you coffee and suggested you just stay in all day since you both had such a late night. Watching movies and stuff. You know, normal stuff. He told himself he wasn’t going to try and make a move. Right? Right.

> But when you emerged from your room 45 minutes later, showered and changed, your hair still damp and a droplet of water drifting down your neck and landing in the dip of your collar bones, all he could think of was licking it up. How good your hair must smell, how your skin was still probably warm form the water... He was staring, and you pretended not to notice.

> You were nervous about not measuring up to his expectations. You’d seen the women he usually went out with, and how comfortable they were with their bodies and their sexuality. How beautiful they were. As far as you were concerned, you were nothing like them.

> He could see the gears turning in your head and the downturn of your mouth, and he asked you what was wrong. He motioned for you to come sit with him, and it wasn’t five seconds before he pulled you into his lap. After some coaxing, you let him know what you were worried about. He assured you that the reason he was so happy with you is because you weren’t anything like the women he had dated before. Because, not only were you far more beautiful than they were, they had also been conceited and cold, only dating him because he was an up and coming pro-hero that could get them into events so they could dump him for the first bigger hero they’d meet. He liked that you were soft and warm and he could trust you, that you had always trusted him, even despite his quirk.

> You talked for awhile, and as the morning sun drifted higher into the sky, you decided it was time to door dash some food. While he ordered it, you excused yourself the restroom. You needed to think. The heaviness of the conversation still weighed on you, and you’d never felt closer to him than you did now. It was time, you were sure. You wanted to give him everything he’d been waiting so patiently for, he deserved it. And so did you damnit, no more of this scaredy-cat bullshit! You gave yourself your best war face in the mirror before you exited the bathroom and going back to the living room where Shinsou was reclined on your couch. Head tilted back, resting on the pillow behind him.

> He was so beautiful. Lavender hair a wild mess, eyes closed and lashes fluttering softly. You wanted to kiss his neck suddenly, and unlike when urges like this usually happened, you didn’t shove the thought away. You quickly straddled him and, before he had the chance to question you, you began kissing up and down his neck softly. “K-kitty...” he groaned beneath you, gripping your waist, his hips jerking up against yours.

> After a while of your explorative kissing, he growled impatiently and flipped you over easily, pressing you into the couch. He kissed you like he might die if he didn’t, deep and slow and desperate. When he finally broke for air and looked at you, he felt his heart and his dick jump. Your flushed face and your eyes that were looking up at him through your eyelashes heavily, your mouth hanging open gasping and your kiss bitten lips, your brows softly cinched at the effort it took for you to remember you needed to breathe.

> He asks you if you’re sure you were ready, and when you nod dazedly up at him he doesn’t need any more convincing.

> He takes his time, he’s slow and methodical. He wants your first time to be an enjoyable experience. Something you can look back on fondly and remember how much he loved you, how good it felt, how comfortable you were. He wanted it to be better than his first time, drunk after a hero convention, with some woman who didn’t remember his name in the morning and never called him back. He pushed the thought away. He focused on you, on how perfect you were.

> When he finally thrusts into you, you think you want to feel like this forever. You tell him so, and beams with pride, pushing your pleasure further. Kissing your neck and praising you. Telling you how perfect you are, telling you all the things you do that drive him crazy, telling you that he’s never going to let you go, that you’re his forever and he’s yours.

> You cum together, and you think that everything in the world must have always been this beautiful. You spend the rest of the day cuddling, eating, and making love.

-Bakugo-

> No thoughts in this mans head. None. At least when it comes to romance. When you first start dating, you had to make the first move cause his oblivious ass just thought you were challenging him. You had to explain to him that what you were actually doing was called “flirting”.

> So when it comes to your first time, you know you’re gonna have to make the first move there too. He fears rejection, so he avoids the things he really wants the most. Which in this case is you whining on his dick.

> But he also knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t wanna scare you, so he leaves it be. Trusting his fist to get the job done when he really needs to let off some steam. Either by punching shit or jerking off.

> One day, you do catch him jerking off, and you immediately start to (stupidly) think that you’re not enough for him, that he might leave you for someone who can give him what he needs. You don’t think he notices you having a mini panic attack in the hallway so you sneak back to the kitchen to catch your breath and think. Why HAD you waited this long? What were you waiting FOR? You guessed you had just been worried about not knowing what to do, about him getting impatient and annoyed with you for your lack of experience.

> Making your final decision, you square your shoulders and march yourself back to your shared room. You confidently open the door to find him ... waiting for you?

> “Tch, took you long enough. You done freakin’ out now?” He grumbles from his spot on the bed. You nod meekly and he opens his arms for you, an invitation you gratefully accept. He pets your head and continues grumbling, “ just as bad as shitty-hair, nobody ever knocks anymore. You shouldn’t be surprised when you just try to walk in like that...”

> He keeps petting your head until eventually you hit him with it. “‘Tsuki, I wanna... uhm...” you look up at him with pleading eyes hoping his quirk somehow suddenly allows him to read your mind.

> It doesn’t. “ You wanna what? C’mon, spit it out.” No thoughts, remember?

> You huff and blush and finally squeak out, “Wanna make you feel good, ‘Tsuki...”

> His brain stops working momentarily. When he catches back up, he smirks. “Seriously? It just took you gettin’ jealous over my left hand for you to be ready?”, he teased. You stick out your tongue and he grabs your jaw, looks you dead in the eyes when he says, “I have something much more important for that cute little mouth to do.”

> Your eyes go wide at his suggestion, even though it really doesn’t surprise you. When Katsuki wants something he wants to go all out, no half-assing it. You nod nervously and he laughs at your apprehension, allowing you to shift down his body until you were face to face with his fly. You undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, and gently guide his dick out of his jeans.

> Beautiful is the first word to come to your mind. Beautiful and massive, just like the rest of him. He was easily over six feet tall, and built too so it really shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. For a moment all you can do is look up at him from your place below him, your big strong hero. You melt a little and you notice him smirking down at you again, “What ‘ya lookin’ at, princess?”. He gently strokes your cheek while you admire him, “You.” you reply dazedly. His smirk widens to a bear malicious grin, “Me? How come?”. A feeling you’re not totally familiar with, but you’re pretty sure is called submission, fills you suddenly and you feel warm and content. “You’re perfect,” you bat your eyelashes and bite your lip as you gently start to stroke your hand up and down his length.

>He controls his breathing, because he really can’t handle you looking so cute with his cock that close to your pretty little face. “‘Tch, and? What’s got you so worked up about it?” You giggle and nuzzle your face into the base of his cock and look up at him innocently. “I’m just glad I’m yours,” you smile and lick him from base to tip before gently taking him into your mouth. You’d read enough smut online to at least have some idea how to do this.

> He almost cums when you say that you’re glad to be his. His, he grins. He doesn’t get to think about that for too long though because your warm, wet tongue is sliding up his shaft and then your pretty little mouth engulfs him and he thinks he might hyperventilate if you keep looking up at him like that. He’d almost say it wasn’t fair, but then you start moving and he thinks that he could actually die happily from the warm bliss that fills him while he watches you try to take more and more of him down your throat.

> This is much more fun than you thought it would be, especially because Katsuki keeps letting out those little sighs and groans, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You hollow out your cheeks and suck a bit harder before taking a deep breath and relaxing your throat as much as possible. You lower yourself down as far as you can, pushing past the ring of muscle in the back of your throat before moving down further. You feel him lay his hand gently, encouragingly, on the back of your head. You’re surprised when you find your nose nestled in the light blonde fuzz at the base of him and you stick your tongue out to lap at the underside.

> He jolts when you begin your descent. You’re not really gonna try to deep-throat him, are you? He watches you, mesmerized. No ones ever even tried, always saying he was way too big. It felt way too good. He laid a hand on the back of your head to ground himself, quickly realizing he had to control himself so that he didn’t clench his fist in your hair or shove you down all the way and hold you there. When you reached your goal, he sighed. Your throat felt perfect wrapped around him, just like he knew it would. When he felt your tongue sneak out of your mouth and lick, he thanked whatever creator there was that your tongue was long enough to reach his anchor. when you start to move your head up and down, he can only take it for so long before he’s thrusting up into your mouth. When you gag on him, that’s it, he has to pull you off him before he grips your head and suffocates you on his cock.

> He’s nearly at the point of begging, but thankfully, mercifully, you seem to get the idea. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the bed, giggling at his abruptness and he growls in response. He kisses you, and praises you, telling you how good you are, how much he needs to be inside you as he undresses you. You’re surprised at how automatically your legs open for him, and you tell him how much you need him inside of you as well. You feel so empty all of a sudden. Until one of his thick fingers finds your molten core and gathers some of your slick before sinking into you and you gasp.

> He continues to kiss and praise you as he works you with his fingers. You whine and moan and beg, it’s like music to his ears. When he thinks you’re ready, he lines himself up with your entrance, sliding up and down, grinding against your clit briefly before continuing. “I wanna hear you beg for it, princess.” and fuck, did you beg. A beautiful litany of filthy fucking words fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He sinks into you fully in one thrust, gripping your open legs for stability.

> At first you can’t speak, you can’t make any noise at all. You feel so unbelievably full, and you look up at him and his eyes are clenched shut and his jaw is set. He’s holding himself back. He’s trying to be gentle with you because it’s your first time. He really is very sweet when he wants to be. You raise a shaky hand to his face and he leans into it. He met your eyes and you watch as his control falters when he sees you bent in half like this. You smile, “Katsuki, please”, is all you can say. It seems to open the flood gates. For all his self control, he pounds into you mercilessly and it fills you with the most intense feeling of ecstasy. “F-fuck ‘Tsuki, you feel s-so fucking good,” you moan and gasp brokenly.

> He cums hard. Grunting, growling, and near snarling the whole way through. You’re seeing stars, even though you haven’t cum. It had felt so fucking amazing, and you’re more than content with that. Katsuki is definitely not however, and is intent on eating you out until you beg for mercy. He always takes such good care of you.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #shinsou x reader #shinso smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

553 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Note

Pls say more bout those headcanons I’m curious 👀

Done and done!

Potions: Gojo Satoru/Geto Suguru/Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: NSFW (drunken sex)

masterlist

Gojo Satoru

"I really thought..." you trail off with your words as you stumble into the apartment, cradling your purse carefully. A short laugh escapes your lips. "I really thought you were excited to go out tonight."

"Nah," Satoru exhales, slumping on the couch in the living room. "Didn't really want to be there with all of those..." He twiddles his fingers in the air, making some motion that refers to the upper-class donors who crowded the ballroom.

You close the door to his place and try your best to balance in your heels as you walk toward the couch. But halfway there, you trip and fall flat on your face into the pillow on the couch, legs extended on the floor behind you.

"Fuck," Satoru giggles, choosing to lay on the plush fixture instead of helping you up, which you make note of. You resent the lack of help, but you slowly crawl up to a seated position, looking at the man through squinted eyes. "You're an ass."

"Huh," he huffs. "Heard that one before." You watch him remove his bowtie and jacket, tossing them onto the floor and blowing a raspberry before peering over at you. "You look like you need help getting out of that outfit." You know it's a flimsy excuse for him to try and get into your pants, but you don't care. You like it when Gojo slides his long fingers down your back and unzips you from the cagey dresses, thus freeing you from your fabric bonds. So you allow him to do just that and then pull your shoes off, tossing them in the same pile as his jacket and tie.

"When I was younger, I used to imagine that drinking would be fun," you breathe, and he laughs at your disappointment.

"So I'm guessing you waited until you were legally able to, huh?"

"Of course," you answer, looking over your bare shoulder at him as he slips the silk shirt out of his pants. "I was a good girl."

"But now?" Gojo asks, coming behind you and wrapping his hands around your upper arms as he trails kisses over your shoulders.

"But now..." You think. Are you a good girl still? Or has Gojo corrupted you to the point of no return? "I don't think I'm so good anymore."

"I don't think so either," he whispers, turning you around and pushing you back onto the couch. Your head rests on the arm of it, while he leans down to kiss you, his hips cradled between your thighs. The kiss is sloppy and hungry, but you enjoy it all the same because Gojo isn't the kind of guy who just lets you lay like a ragdoll in his arms.

One hand pulls your right knee to your chest, and you feel the growing bulge against your stomach rub back and forth, your eyes drifting close as he grinds against you.

"You're so fucking bad," Satoru moans, kissing down your neck. "But you always taste so good." which is obviously the prelude to him eating you out. Your heels rest against his broad back as he runs his tongue across your cunt and then back again, sucking at your wetness jovially. You suck in your breath and hold Gojo's head with both hands as he eats you out, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment with your boyfriend.

You reach down to grab his chin and pull him up to meet you again, kissing his lips and tasting yourself. Then pants, boxers, socks are removed, and Gojo's cock presses against your cunt before sliding in with a little resistance. He immediately begins to pump into you, and both of you echo each other with moans and grunts. His cock slips in and out of you, kissing your cervix before sliding against your walls and back in.

"Satoru," you breathe, clutching him close. "You feel amazing."

"So do you," he exhales, hips driving into yours. "I just want to be inside of you all night long."

Geto Suguru

"You really know your way around a man," Suguru mumbles, one hand in your hair while you lick up and down his shaft, knees resting on the floor as he sits on his chair. His eyes watch you suck on his rock-hard cock, tongue rolling up and around his tip lazily. "God damn," he hisses, leaning his head back.

"You like it?" Geto tightens his hands in your hair, and grunts long and hard. "Maybe I should stop."

"No." HIs head shoots up and you smile, kissing the tip of his cock. His reddened cheeks puff out momentarily as you take off your shirt and slip your skirt down your hips, stepping out of it and sliding onto his lap. "Oh..." You lean forward and press your lips against his repeatedly, both of you kissing each other casually as you slide your slick against his length.

"Baby, I love you," you whisper, sinking onto his cock until you can't take any more of him.

"I love you, too," Suguru whines while you bounce up and down on his lap. "God, you're so beautiful." His hands raise up to your breasts, which are still cold from the beer bottle he'd been holding earlier. You anchor your hands into the fabric of the couch behind him and roll your head around, relishing in the feeling of Suguru's length stroking your insides.

Your first orgasm comes pretty quickly, your body already flushed with excitement from your earlier drinking. You spasm around him, leaning your head onto his shoulder and rolling your hips up and down to extend your high. Suguru grabs them quickly, slamming you back down onto his cock and looking up at you with parted lips.

"I tell everyone you're a goddess," he states, eyes roaming over your face in awe. "My goddess."

"Su--" You know you shouldn't be shocked by his admission - Suguru praises you all the time - but you feel grateful, anyhow. But he stops you with a deep kiss, pressing your body against his chest, tangling his tongue with yours.

"You're always going to be my goddess. No matter what."

Nanami Kento

Nanami doesn't get drunk. Ever.

But you did. And that's how you found yourself hanging onto the man as you walk up the driveway into your house, mumbling words to a song you heard on the radio minutes before.

"Babe..." you drawl, and Nanami hums as he places the key in the door, the other arm holding onto your waist. "Babe, do you think we'll ever have kids?"

"Y/n," Kento breathes, switching on the light in the foyer and walking you past the living room. "We are perfectly capable of having children. We just need to talk about it and plan it out."

"What if we..." you hiccup, then giggle. "What if we have twins?"

"Then we will be great parents to two children."

"Do you even want to be a father, Ken?" you ask as he slides the silk dress over your shoulders and onto the floor.

"I do," he reassures you, looking at you in the mirror and pressing a kiss to the space between your neck and your jaw. "But only when we're ready, my love."

You climb into the bed, pulling the covers over your body. You reach a hand out to your husband, smiling, and Nanami takes off his tie before sitting on the bed beside you. You take his hand and kiss his knuckles one by one, which makes him stretch his hand open and caress your jawline lovingly.

"I'm so drunk," you admit, and Kento chuckles, kissing your cheek. "But I want to make love to you. If you'll let me."

"Of course," he breathes into your ear, and you sit up, trying to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. "Slow... slow," Kento whispers, holding your hands in his and guiding you. One button turns into two, then into five, then into seven, and then you're done. Nanami pulls off his shirt and drops it to the floor, then pushes you against the sheets with a soft hand. "Let me take care of you."

"I'd never let you do anything else," you breathe, and he laughs, a welcome sound in your muddled mind.

Minutes later, his hips are pressing into yours from behind, a hand caressing your neck as he whispers soft words into your ear.

"You're such a beautiful woman."

"Please, Ken..." you whine, and he whispers,

"You want this? You want me to make love to you?"

"Oh, god, please," you answer. He removes his hand to pull off his pants, then parts your legs, shifting you onto your knees. When he slides into you, your entire body reacts by relaxing into the bed and letting go. Nanami replaces his hand, holding your backside against his chest and slipping in and out of you gently. His teeth graze your earlobe, and you whine again, holding onto him for dear life.

"I'll make you a mother soon, my love. But for now, I just want to enjoy having you all to myself."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #getou suguru #nanami kento

289 notes · View notes

ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

🍃Plug🍃

🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤

🍃 Pairing: Johnny (NCT) x reader

🍃 Length: 2K

🍃 Warnings: Smut, piv, use of recreational substances, sex under the influence

🍃 Note: originally a request on my previous account

Nsfw below!

🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤 🍃 🖤

How did you end up here?

How did you end up here with him?

Your friend had said, "Oh, lets go have some beers with some friends."

Sure.

Your friend had said "Lets try this!" As she giddily took a blunt from one of the boys in the house. "Want some?"

Sure.

It was, quite literally, a blur form there, and the living area that was strewn with bean bags and cushions at some point became empty. Except for you...

And him. Johhny.

You had seen him before, of course. Sure, you knew his name. Did you have a crush on him? Perhaps. But had you ever been in any face to face situation with him? Not in your wildest dreams.

Yet here he was, and here you were, getting stared down by this gigantic sex god of a man that was in a horny and dreamy daze. Oh goodness, you felt like you were burning. Why was it so hot in here? Why were you feeling so stuffy, like you needed a breeze to cool you down? You had to get out, and away from him before the heat you felt continued to grow and further moistened your panties with the sweat in your thighs and cheeks... or was it -

Shit, you had to go.

And you tried, but he stalks after you with those long ass legs of him.

"Y/n, where are you going?" He asks, and it's the first time he's spoken to you. And... he knew your name.

"I need to get fresh air." You say, and your eyes meet. Sure, both sets are a little reddened but it doesn't stop him from admiring your features, your lashes, your glossy lips. He's never gotten to admire them this close, as he usually would het a distant glance at you when you shared the occasional class or outing with mutual friends. No wonder the following words come out so naturally...

"My room's upstairs. I have a balcony."

And so he takes you, and you feel like your just floating by with him pulling you by your wrist. You hardly acknowledge your surroundings once you're in his room, but he does keep is promise and open a little French door that peeks out to a balcony.

The breeze is welcome, and it blows up your skirt and you can feel that your panties are absolutely soaked.

“You good?” He asks. He’s suddenly standing before you, and you feel small, like you’re standing in his shadow.

You don’t recall who snaps first but his mouth is on yours, and everything feels hot and heavy and drowsy but hypersensitive. His mouth, wet and eager, swallows every little moan you make and he sucks on your tongue and you feel it draw a shiver from the back of your neck to your cunt.

His hand is soon up your skirt, it was sudden but it’s what you wanted - what you needed. And when he cups your mound with his large hand everything seems to fall into place, the kiss deepens, you moan.

“Wait!”

It wasn’t you. It was him.

“Wait...” he says, cupping your face, slightly rousing from his stupor, “we might be high as fuck right now but I need to know you’re ok with this.”

It startles you, it wasn’t just his respect that made your stomach do a flip, but you could see a tenderness in his eyes that surpassed his arousal as he searched your features.

“I... I really want to do this.” You whisper sweetly, and he’s gotten you feeling a little bashful.

You feel like you’re body is floating among waves, but his hands are keeping you anchored.

“I want this too. And I’m gonna make it good... I’m gonna treat you real good.” He says as he guides you to sit down on his bed. He’s almost giddy, he might have been bouncing had he not been mellowed out by the weed.

He kneels on the floor between your legs, and he doesn’t take his eyes from yours as he reaches up the pleats of your skirt to drag your panties down. The fabric is steamy and there is a wet patch - you’d feel embarrassed had he not smiled like a giddy boy at the results of his actions. Once the panties are at your ankles he realizes he hadn’t taken your shoes on and he fumbles as he tries to take it all of, but once you notice the predicament you both shuffle around together to get the shoes and their tricky laces off and a fit of giggles takes over you both.

They’re soon gone; the shoes, the panties, the giggles. His hands rest at your calves. He kisses your mouth one last time before he gently spreads your legs and bunches your skirt up, and he nearly drools at the sight he’s just exposed. What a beautiful cunt, with those pretty, tender lips that look like petals. He reaches to spread them with the pads of his index and middle finger, and he sighs when the brighter flesh inside your hole is exposed, along with those beautiful glossy fluids.

At some point you help his efforts, and your feet are planted on the edge of the mattress, spreading your legs wide open. The way this man looked at your pussy in awe made you feel more confident and sexy than you had in your entire life, it’s like you could feel the sheer energy of you pulling him in, hypnotizing him.

He watches your cunt with determination as he presses a finger to your bud and circles it with the upmost caution. He likes the sound you make.

And you like how he made you feel.

“Are you just gonna stare all day or are you gonna get to work?”

You’re both alarmed by the words that come from your mouth, but they arouse both of you even further.

“Fuck...” he groans, and he goes all in - he buries his face in your pussy without hesitation, gulping at your favor and roughly inhaling your scent. “Fucking delicious.” He says after swiping his tongue all over your labia in one thick stroke. You gasp and the clench of your muscles makes your pussy twitch just the slightest and Johnny swears he could just watch you like this forever.

So he’ll work towards that goal by doing a good job.

His tongue circles your clit, and he spreads your lips with his fingers to make sure he’s getting full access to that pretty nub, making sure he’s focusing his efforts there. Tiny little licks with the tip, just to tease you, and then he lets go so he can roam his mouth all over, up and down every fold, following your lines, sucking on your lips, teasing them ever so tastefully with his teeth.

And finally, finally he sucks the nub, he sucks and you can feel his lips on you and who the texture of his tongue greets you in his mouth. You feel every sensation he causes in your pussy send waves of pleasure all over your body, and at some point you’re threatening to fall backward but his arm hooks you by the waist and you grab on to the other.

At some point you realize the sensation on your hand are his fingers locked with yours. You grip him desperately as you begin to cry out, moan shamelessly, not caring who else is in the house.

He’s moaning too, just from tasting you, and imagining what you’ll both do next.

He feels you come against his face, liquids spewing from your sopping hole on to his face and he presses into your cunt happily to lap it all up. He pulls away and cleans his face with the back of his hand while making eye contact with you, but you’re trembling all over, panting erratically, yet still you cling into him and slowly he guides you to lay back on the bed, legs dangling off the edge and wet pussy exposed.

He kisses your thighs while he waits, nuzzling the soft and bouncy flesh with his face, feeling the softness of them with agains his skin.

“Johnny...” you eventually croak out, languidly.

“Yes, princess?” He replies eagerly.

“Do you have a condom?”

He bounces up to dig into his drawer and tears his clothes off faster than you could even notice. Once he’s completely naked he realizes the bedroom door was open and shuts it before you can see. You’re still blissfully dazed and starring at the ceiling, but as he edges toward you, you lift your head and you’re in awe at his tall frame, all exposed.

He strokes his cock to roll the plastic on him, keeping the wrapper in between his lips before blowing it off.

“Come here...” you say, as you reach out for him and spread your legs again. He falls into your embrace effortlessly.

Johnny kisses you, slowly and sensually, you can feel his cock sandwiched against your abdomen and his.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good...” he promises.

“You’re all talk.” You tease.

Maybe you shouldn’t have teased. When you least expect it you’re both adjusting and he’s pressed his head into you. You’re so wet, so relaxed, it just feels blissful. He pushes in and the feeling his heavenly, your legs jolt and bend. His body is completely pressed against yours, forehead against yours, breaths huffing into each other’s faces. Yeah… this is a feeling Johnny had been thinking about for a while, and it would take him a moment to relish in it.

You roll your hips to coax him further, and before you know it he’s hitting your cervix, you feel him press right there at that barrier inside of you, yet your certain he’s not in all the way. His first thrusts are slow and gentle, but at some point his body is heavy against yours and he rolls his hips with a smack against your thighs each time. You’re legs are wrapped around his waist, your hands roam all over his body, your sight is lost between his sultry eyes and his body and how his cock is impaling you, but he is focused only on your face.

He starts to stretch you further, impossibly further. You twitch each time he hits the limit of your wall. But it’s like your sucking him in deeper and deeper, and you start to feel an uncontrollable buildup.

“Johnny! Faster!” You manage to cry between moans.

You want it faster and harder and more and more and more... you’re reaching that point where you need his hard push to throw you over the edge. You plant your feet on the bed to begin to thrust along with him but he grabs your hips and kneels on the bed, he’s pulling you up in a way you’ve never been manhandled before, your hips raised and feet barely helping support you, and he’s using his hands to thrust your pelvis onto him, fucking his cock on you brutally. Every muscle in his torso and body are burning and the strain is evident in how they all flex.

You’re screaming - you’re screaming like you never have and it’s a mix of curses and his name and incoherent moans. You’ve never felt this, and you don’t want him to stop. At some point your weight collapses into his thighs but that doesn’t stop him, he’s fucking into you wildly.

You’re shaking all over and can’t make out the moment in which it ends. It’s like you blacked out from the bliss, and you only notice the change because at one point Johnny was fucking you and now he’s collapsed on top of you. You’re sure your skirt and the comforter beneath you are soaked with your fluids, and your clothes are drenched with your sweat and his.

He’s drowning you, with his weight, with the feelings. You can’t make a single move because he’s got you pinned down and his cock is anchoring you beneath his body.

“Y/n...” he eventually calls.

“Yes?”

“Would... you like to do that again some time?” You can’t see his face, but his breath shudders against your neck.

“Yes... but I’d also like to do it again now.”

#nct johnny smut #nct smut #nct Johnny

134 notes · View notes

samdeancass · 3 years

Text

Possessed Werewolf

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Isaac x werewolf!fem!reader

Genre: Slight smut, Angst, Fluff

Characters: Isaac, Y/N, Scott, Deaton

A/N: Set in Season 3b.

Description: Y/N and Isaac were once inseparable and she was his anchor. That all stopped when Isaac took a liking to Allison. When the pack are attacked by The Oni, Y/N becomes possessed by the flies which ends up with her and Isaac back together again...

You always thought that you and Isaac would be together forever, seems how you were his anchor and he was yours. You were a born werewolf which meant you played a pivotal part in Isaac’s change. That’s how you and him bonded; being together so many hours of the day sure played a part in the beginning or your relationship. It also helped that your best friends were Scott and Stiles which meant that Isaac immediately got accepted into Scott’s pack. You had never imagined that Isaac would fall for Alison which is when your whole world turned upside down.

You were walking down the hall when you felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you into the nearest classroom. Your eyes flashed yellow as you turned around with your claws protruding from your nails but you soon calmed down once you seen Isaac staring back at you.

“What did you do that for? There is something called a hallway that we can talk in.” You chuckled, shaking your head a little. Isaac smiled back at you but with sadness in his eyes. You tilted your head to the side a little whilst grabbing one of Isaac’s hand in yours. “What’s the matter baby?” He opened his mouth to say something but it seemed as though he couldn’t get it out.

You raised your eyebrows a little and pulled on Isaac’s hand. “Please, babe. You’re worrying me now.” A stray tear fell down his face as he lifted his hand to our face, running his fingers across your cheek. You leaned into his touch and smiled, letting his warmth overcome your body. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” Your heart began beating much faster as anxiety flowed through you.

Your nose crinkled up as you focused on the particular scent emitting from Isaac. “Why-why are you guilty? What have you done?” Isaac shook his head. “Nothing yet. It’s something that I have to do, right now.” You backed away a little, unsure of what Isaac was talking about. “What do you mean?”

Isaac closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve got feelings for somebody else, Y/N. I’ve had them for a while but I thought that I could fight it. But over the past few weeks, they’ve become stronger; unbearable to resist. We were alone one night and we..... kissed.”

Once again your eyes flashed yellow but this time, they were a deeper shade, conveying your anger. “Get out, Isaac. It’s over.” Isaac moved towards you, but you stepped back, baring your fangs at him. “I said GET OUT!” Isaac rushed passed you before you acted on your anger.

Slamming the door behind him, you stomped through the aisles of desks throwing whatever you could find. Eventually, your anger wore off and sadness consumed you. You fell to the floor, sobs racking through your body as the news of what had happened finally sunk in.

Ever since, you and Isaac have kept your distance. You still loved him, of course you did, but you couldn’t tell him that; it was too hard. Every day you watched Isaac and Alison together, holding hands down the hallways, stealing kisses whenever they could. Isaac loved Alison but there was nothing you could do, or so you thought.

You and the pack were separated around town, looking for ‘Void Stiles’. You were searching in the basement of the school when you heard a buzzing around your head. You flapped your hand around your head, willing the fly to go away. However, the fly continued to bother you until it found an opening and flew into your ear.

Immediately after, an overwhelming aggression took over your body. Letting this fuel your actions, you headed straight towards who you were most angry and frustrated with: Isaac. Trees went past you in a blur as you used your werewolf speed to run to Isaac’s location.

Walking straight into his house you homed in towards Isaac, paying no attention to Scott who was sitting across from him. Once Isaac’s scent waved through your nostrils your anger turned into lust, causing your whole demeanour to change.

You strutted towards Isaac, climbing onto his lap and running your hands down his chest. Isaac looked past you to Scott, wondering what the hell was going on. They both shrugged at each other and Isaac turned his attention back to you, not completely letting his guard down. Something about you was different, but he couldn’t figure out what.

You leaned forward and attached yourself to his neck, leaving a line of sloppy kisses whilst grinding against his lap. “Why did you have to hurt me, Isaac? All this could still be yours.” You bit the top of Isaac’s ear and raked your fingers through his hair. All the while Isaac was completely transfixed with you, letting your dominant actions completely take him over.

On the other side of the room, Scott was deep in thought. What could have brought on this strange and sudden behaviour? What had come into your lives recently that had the power to do this? He sat for a few more minutes before suddenly standing up from his chair. “Isaac, she’s possessed!”

Isaac turned his head toward Scott but kept his eyes on you. “What?” Scott huffed and stormed forward, gently grabbing you off him. “Snap out of it, dude. It’s the Nogitsune that’s possessing Stiles. Somehow, it’s possessing Y/N to. We need to get her to Deaton.”

Isaac stood still for a moment and let the new information sink in whilst you were struggling in Scott’s hold to try and get to Isaac. He turned and looked at you. “How I wish that was really you.” He sighed deeply. “Let’s go.”

Deaton was able to figure out exactly what was causing the Nogitsune to possess you and found a way to get it out.

You came to on the silver table in the vets with three sets of eyes staring down at you. Slowly you sat up, holding your head. “What in the hell happened? The last thing I remember was looking in the school basement for Stiles.” You looked up and saw Isaac staring at the ground whilst Scott and Deaton looked sheepishly at each other.

“Scott, what happened?” Scott turned to you. “I think he should be the one to tell you that.” He nodded his head toward Isaac, who was slowly moving his head to look at you. “Maybe you should give us some privacy. I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear this in front of everybody.”

Scott and Deaton nodded their heads and swiftly made their way out of the room, leaving you and Isaac alone. A thin silence held the air. The both of you hadn’t been in a room alone together since you broke up. “Tell me what happened, and make it quick.”

“I don’t know the best way to tell you this, but you sorta came on to me. You came over to my house, bounded through the door and beelined straight to me, completely ignoring Scott.” You nodded along, not completely getting what was so wrong with your actions. “You then climbed onto my lap and began running your hands down my chest, whispering things in my ear, kissing me. Scott literally had to peel you off me to get you here.”

At this point, your face was bright red. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I never would have done that if I wasn’t, you know.” Isaac smiled and took a small step towards you. “Deaton said that you wouldn’t have done all that if you didn’t still have feelings for me.” You shook your head in denial but you could feel your heart begin to hammer in your chest.

“I-I don’t. Not anymore.” Isaac took another step towards you, your shoes touching his. “Well, I have to say Y/N. I sure felt something when you whispered in my ear...” He leant down close to your ear. “...ran your hands down my body....” Isaac wrapped his large hands around your waist and began to run them up and down your sides. “....kissing me.” He leaned down and was inches away from your face when you pulled away.

“Wait. What about Alison?” Isaac shook his head. “I realise now how stupid I was leaving you. You are and always will be the one for me. You’re my anchor, nobody can compete with that.” Within that moment, you grabbed Isaac’s head and pulled him towards you, locking your lips with his.

The familiar feeling of butterflies returned as your kiss deepened. Isaac’s hands began to roam your body, finding their way up your shirt and splay across your back. Your hands moved to his neck, pulling at the small hairs at the base. Isaac began messing with the clasp of your bra, desperate to get it off; which is when you pulled away.

“We can’t do that here, Isaac. Deaton would sure as hell have a mess to clean up when he comes back.” Isaac gave you a lustful smirk. “Let’s take this somewhere else then.” He tucked his hands under your legs and threw you over his shoulder, running out of the vets towards his house.

You never would have thought that it would take an ancient evil being to possess you and come onto Isaac to get you both back together, but you were definitely not complaining.....

Teen Wolf Tags:

@akshi8278 @stellastyless

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #isaac x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fanfiction #scott mccall #alan deaton #void stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction

133 notes · View notes

bakugosbratx · 3 years

Text

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story when y/n is the crazy one and kidnaps Bakugo. Tysm ! -meena

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Content. Yandere, stalking, kidnapping, cursing, mental illness, blood, abuse, drugs, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hmm this is a different turn of events. I love it 👀 I hope you enjoyed anon! I went a little wild with this one.

Words: 2.2k

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @lanarist @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @m779 @vinny-likes-to-play21

“Dear Katsuki,

I watched you save a civilian on television today. I know it’s your job and all, but you did not have to save her. Her life is not as important as mine. Do you not cherish what we have? Am I just a nobody to you? This is my 103rd letter to you and still no response. I know your address did not change so do not give me that pathetic excuse, Katsuki Bakugo. Surely, you must remember we are soulmates. We are one. How dare you fucking forget me? I had to rip all of my posters down in a fit of rage. You know how angry that makes me, baby, but it will all be okay, because you are coming home to me. We will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

You burst into a fit of giggles as you kick your bare feet back and forth on his bed. You wrote in black ink and covered the paper in orange hearts since it is the pro-hero’s favorite color. You could not help but leave precious lipstick kisses on the page. Something you always do in your love letters to Katsuki. The posters in your house are covered in them. Katsuki’s beautiful face is just so kissable. You cannot wait to do it tonight.

All you can think about is Katsuki. That is all your day consists of. Your clothing is all his merchandise and his favorite colors. You spend hours upon hours watching interviews, videos, surveillance footage of the hero. When he is out on patrol, you do your best to hide in areas so you can see the hero up close and personal. Your face just beams with joy at the mere glance of him.

You did your best to meet him several times. Any disaster there was to be had, you put on your nicest attire, do your make-up just how you think he likes, and have your hair freshly done. No better way to greet your significant other after hero work than looking like a beauty pageant queen.

Sadly, all your attempts were failures. Katsuki did not even give you the time of day. He is way too focused on beating the villains to a pulp. You did admire this about him, but your own selfish desires created hatred in you. He should be paying attention to you. Not those pesky villains.

Katsuki is sure to receive forty-five letters addressing the issue. All that he will never even skim over. This is only adding fuel to the fire.

The posters that hang in every single room in your apartment are ripped to shreds. Pools of tears covered your orbs, smudging all of your makeup. You climbed onto your black sofa, taking your left high heel and breaking the glass photo of Katsuki hanging there. Shards of glass sprinkle the couch and hardwood floor below. You don't even care for the pieces that collected into your skin. You will worry about that later.

“Fuck you, Katsuki!” You sobbed, ripping his face with your teeth and spitting out the saliva covered photo onto the litter filled floor.

“Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite saves another civilians life yet again, taking down another member of the league of villains who was terrorizing the victim.”

The news anchor’s words fell on deaf ears as you went to the television screen. You are captivated by your significant other’s beauty on the tv. Blood leaked from your freshly manicured hands. They are painted orange and black as always.

“Oh, Katsuki,” you sighed with a smile, tracing a heart around his face with your leaking blood, “we will be together soon. I promise, baby. I’ll take you away from this sick, cruel world so we can live happily ever after.”

You were serious that day. You planned it on your calendar. The countdown began on the night you are going to be one with Katsuki. A day you knew you both looked forward to.

“Dear Katsuki,

Did you miss me? I know I missed you. I even stamped this letter in my blood so you can have my DNA to mix with yours. I can’t wait to procreate with you. We will make such wonderful babies, don’t ya think? They will be so beautiful like you. I will be such an excellent mother. No woman can be a great wife to you like I can. Do you understand me?”

You had to pause writing as your blood started to boil at the thought. Your pen is already creating a huge ink spot from the anger consuming your hands. Small growls escaped your parted lips as you began to growl.

“If I can’t have you, no one can, Katsuki Bakugo. I am your one true love. You're one and only. And I’ll make sure that day comes. Just a few more days, baby, and we will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

The day finally came. You knew Katsuki’s schedule by heart. You loved watching him do his morning routines with the security cameras you placed in his home. The poor male never even thought to check. Such a mistake on his part. It only confirmed he needed protection from the world. Only you can provide that. Sure, you may be quirkless, but no one knows Katsuki like you do. No one can love him like you. He knows this. He has to.

You drew a luke-warm bubble bath with nice lit candles, rose pedals, a few drops of your blood, and some freshly made desserts for you both to enjoy while you catch up. You are even so kind enough to fetch him a beer or two so he can relax. You know how he enjoys his alcoholic beverages after a long day of hero work.

You rested on his bed. The natural caramel scent engulfed your nostrils as you wrote letters into your notebook once more. Even when you two are officially together forever, you still love to write out your thoughts. You know he enjoys them as well.

Hours upon hours passed. Frustration arose overtime. You did not want to be angry with your spouse, but he knows better than to be home late on your special day. You have almost filled up your notepad with phrases upon phrases of ‘I love you’s’ and sweet nothings. Along with other things.

You tapped your bandages covered foot on the ground as you began to pace. “What is taking him so long?” You huffed aloud, growing more impatient by each passing second. The bath is beginning to become cold and that is just rude in your opinion. You decided to write out your emotions.

“Dear Katsuki,

What the fuck is taking you so long, huh? It’s so fucking aggervating and just plain rude. I have done so much for you only to toss me to the side like I’m nothing. Are you cheating on me? I do not tolerate disrespect, Katsuki Bakugo. You are going to make me mean and you know I hate being mean to you. You just make me jealous, baby. You know how you do that to me. Make me feel all types of emotion I can’t seem to understand, but one thing is for certain is that you and I will be together.

Sincerely,”

You did not even get to finish your final entry as you hear the front door downstairs unlock. Scrambling to put the diary away, you gather the necessary items from under the bed and wait for the perfect moment to strike. Katsuki’s natural loud ways was helping you locate his every move without even having to look at security footage.

All you have to do is be patient.

Katsuki sat on the couch, propping his sock-covered feet onto the glass coffee table and turning on the television. You allowed him some moments to get settled before gently tip-toeing down the stairs, rope, duct tape, and a blunt object ready in hand.

Just as Katsuki turned to acknowledge your presence, the crowbar hit his head, knocking him unconscious. You quickly attend to his wound — not without dropping some droplets of blood into his — so it does not get offended. You cannot have your husband getting an infection.

You tie up his hands and legs, duct tape his mouth after delivering kisses to his perfectly plump lips, and drag him to the kitchen. You did not realize how much your lover really weighed. Too much time was wasted dragging him to the fridge than preferred, but it will all be worth it in the end. You know it will be.

Katsuki did not wake up until the next day. You stayed by his side the whole time, telling him about your day and how much you have planned for you two. Of course, he needs to build his trust with you. You love a very intelligent man and the last thing you need is for him to be against you.

Slowly opening his crimson eyes, his attention is brought to a grinning you. Katsuki immediately attempts to escape the captivity he is in, but it is no use. You just had to buy special rope that cancels quirks.

“Struggle all you want, Katsuki-poo. There is no escaping me.” You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed and furrowed his eyebrows at you. All of his curses are mumbled by the tape which is probably the best considering you did not want to be insulted right now.

“When you calm down, I’ll take off the tape.” You bargained, shrugging nonchalantly as you kneel in front of the man. Did this calm him down? No. You know it wouldn’t regardless. You know Katsuki better than he knows himself yet you already want to push his buttons. The way he gets so angry turns you on and you can’t just help yourself but want more.

After a couple of hours of Katsuki complaining and you writing even more in your diary, he decided to calm down. This made you happy. You wanted to hear his beautiful gruff voice.

Grabbing the corner of the tape, you rip it off. Katsuki is already barking insults. “Are you fucking insane? Who the hell even are you? This isn’t going to end well with you, you psycho bit—“

A hard slap to his face interrupted Katsuki’s spill. Along with the duct tape you placed back on his mouth. “Such a meanie,” you pout, “and here I was about to be so nice to you.”

This cycle repeated itself for three days. You never left his side once. How could you? He is obviously in distress. He needs you by his side. He cannot do anything without you. Especially with his hands tied behind his muscular back. Katsuki finally decided that playing the game is the only way to win it.

You ripped the tape off once again. Katsuki did not even speak this time. “Did you learn your lesson?” You quizzed with an arched brow. “Y’know being a meanie is not going to get you anywhere, Katsukikins.”

“Why are you doing this?” Katsuki inquired, his gruff voice sounding so weak and hollow. You almost felt bad.

“You’re so silly, Suki. C’mon,” you brought your lips close to his, “gimme a kiss.”

Reluctantly, Katsuki did as instructed. Considering you are straddling his lap and his powers are useless, he has no choice in the matter. You loved the compliance.

“Good boy.” You praised, ruffling his messy blonde hair. Katsuki glared at you. “Will you be good and eat some food for me?”

“I don’t want your stupid ass food.” Katsuki growled, laying his head against the bottom freezer of his fridge.

“Nonsense, Suki.” You giggled, feeling extremely joyful to be with Katsuki. You bring a spoon of Miso soup up to his closed lips, “have some. I blew on it so it’s not too hot.”

“Get that trash away from me, you idiot—“ Katsuki was interrupted by a spoon entering his mouth. Though he would hate to admit this, the soup tasted delicious and he is quite hungry. He put up a fight, but allowed you to feed him properly until every drop was gone. Unfortunately, Katsuki is unaware that the soup is drugged until it’s too late.

His body began to feel numb. He did not even have the strength to ask questions as his eyes became drowsy. Soon, he is slumped over, sound asleep as you manage to drag him up the stairs and into your shared bed.

Planting kisses all over structures, you tuck him in and finish some late night entries in your diary. Skimming through them all and reflecting on how you got here now, it made you smile. Progress has been made and will continue to do so.

Signing off on the final page, you write:

“Dear Katsuki,

These past three days have been exhilarating. I see it in your terrified eyes how happy you are that I am here. I know how much you missed me. I missed you, too, baby. We will continue to grow and soon, we will have children. I even have my menstrual cycle all planned out. I am all yours and you’re all mine. Can’t you see, baby doll? We are forever meant to be.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

©bakugosbratx

#tw blood #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #tw injury #tw stalking #bakugosbratx #bratx request #bakugo x yandere reader #katsukibakugou #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugō #submission #bakugo x you

161 notes · View notes

nsheetee · 4 years

Text

Details: yangyang x female reader, a few swear words, a LOT of kissing, 1.4k words

Yangyang loves his members so much, he always has and he’s sure he always will. They’ve been with him through thick and thin, and he’s grateful for everything they have taught him in the past several years.

But, damn, they can get annoying sometimes.

Don’t be confused, Yangyang loves to eat out with them, joke around the dorm, or just simply hang out, but during promotion time when he’s around his members only for several hours a day, almost every day of the week, for several weeks on end… It can make anyone irritated.

But finally, promotions for WayV’s latest comeback are over, and the guys finally have one day to themselves, so Yangyang does the one thing he knows will always relax him: he invites you over to the dorm. Yangyang hasn’t seen much of you during the past few weeks, and his stomach is already filled with butterflies at the thought of hearing your voice in real life rather than over the phone. His fingers keep tapping on the countertop in the kitchen as he decides what snacks to make for you, biting his lip as he hears the front door open and hearing your voice echo through the house along with Lucas’ who must’ve been the person that let you in.

The moment Yangyang sees you, he realizes he missed you like crazy. When you walk into the kitchen, your eyes light up and you excitedly greet him with a kiss on the cheek, as per usual. He’s reminded of how nice your shampoo smells and how soft your hands are when they play with the ends of his long hair after you lean away. Yangyang can’t stop his arm from circling around you, bringing you closer to him and placing a solid kiss right onto your plush lips, your noses scrunching together from how much pressure he’s putting onto your mouth, not that you mind.

“Oh?” You ask after you break the heavy kiss.

“What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend after not seeing her for weeks?” Yangyang tilts his head at you, challenging your question.

“You can kiss me however and whenever you like, babe.” You reply, a smile creeping onto your face at how cute Yangyang is when he’s touchy and clingy, a side of him you don’t see much. He leans in again, a bit more cockier this time with his other hand creeping to the back of your neck and his thumb gliding over your jaw, and captures your bottom lip between his own. He’s gentler, just sucking on your lip a little and nibbling every once in a while. His hand around your waist soothingly and languidly rubs your side.

“AH!” The sudden scream tears you both away from the kiss, heads swiveling to the door to see what the commotion is about, “Why are you making out in the kitchen? This is a communal space, we eat here. That’s gross.” Kunhang has one hand over his eyes, the other waving around as he nags at you and your boyfriend. Yangyang sighs and begrudgingly lets go of you, opting to turn you around and gently push you out of the kitchen.

“You can look now, Kunhang, we’re leaving.” The annoyance is strong and clear in Yangyang’s voice, making you giggle and send a quick “hello” and “goodbye” to Kunhang as you walk out of the kitchen. Yangyang gently continues to push you until you reach the dining room, which is a separate room from the kitchen but only partially hidden away from the living room by a wall.

“Right, so…” Yangyang stops you, turning you back around to face him by your hips and resuming the close distance from earlier, “Where were we?”

”We were in the kitchen, and now we’re in the dining room.” You joke around a bit, loving how Yangyang rolls his eyes at your lame way of keeping him from kissing you.

“Okay, smartass, shut up and let me kiss you.” Despite you being more susceptible to being walked in on in the dining room than in the kitchen, Yangyang doesn’t seem to care as he kisses you more fervently than before. One of his hands grips onto the waistband of your pants tightly as the other wanders up your back and keeps your chest close to his. He ends up pushing you against what you assume is the dining table and you catch yourself on it from the sudden shove.

“Oh, my god, what is with you today?” You manage to ask through kisses, feeling breathless from how your lips don’t seem to leave his for even a second.

“I missed you,” He mumbles, moving to your cheeks and nose, leaving small kisses there, “The only people I’ve been around these past few weeks…” He moves down your jaw, his nose tickling the skin of your cheek, “... Are the members and my managers,” You gasp quietly when he starts to leave hot kisses along the side of your neck, his tongue leaving behind wet marks with every touch until he reaches your collarbone, “I love them, but I missed you so much.”

“EW!” You and Yangyang once again jump and separate, your heads turning to the wall that separates the dining room from the living room to see Kun and Winwin standing there, Kun’s hand covering Winwin’s eyes. “Why are you doing that in the dining room? We eat here.” Kun exclaims with disdain, his hand being thrown off of Winwin’s eyes as the taller glares down at his leader.

“Why do we eat in so many places in this house.” Yangyang grumbles lowly so that only you can hear, making you laugh. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the hallway. You pass Kun and Winwin with a quick “How have you been?” until Yangyang pulls you away from his members and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, taking a second to turn on the lamp on his desk that emits a dull yellow light.

“Okay, they won’t bother us in here.” Yangyang triumphantly states, turning back to see you still standing by the door with your arms crossed over your chest. “What?”

“I haven’t seen the rest of the guys in weeks and you keep pulling me around like a rag doll because you wanna make out.” You explain.

“Uh, hello? I’m your boyfriend, and you didn’t see me for weeks either. Do you not wanna spend time with me?” Yangyang can’t help but pout, not happy with the idea of his girlfriend wanting to catch up with his members rather than spend time with him during the first free day he has had in weeks.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You gently reply, not wanting to start an argument. You walk closer to where Yangyang is standing, brushing off some imaginary dust as an excuse to sooth his tense shoulders. “I just mean… Maybe don’t pull me around your dorm all sneakily like you’re trying to hide me away. This is not my place, I don’t want to disrespect the people here, you know?” You ask, searching Yangyang’s eyes to see if he does understand your feelings.

“Yeah, I get it,” He mumbles while taking your hands into his, “It’s just hard when I miss you like this. I want to keep you all to myself.” You laugh at the stubborn look on Yangyang’s face, squeezing his hands to let him know you understand. “Should we go back out there? You can catch up with the guys if you really want to.”

“It’s okay,” You use Yangyang’s grip on your hands to push him back and he softly lands on the covers of his bed, bouncing lightly from the fall as he looks up at you, “I can catch up with them later. I want to keep you all to myself right now, too.”

A rush of longing and eagerness sweeps through Yangyang as you anchor your hands to his shoulders and slowly crawl onto the bed, one of your knees on either side of him as you reconnect your lips once again. Yangyang keeps his hands on your thighs, his fingers pushing into your leg everytime you move your lips just right or pull on the long hair at the back of his neck.

When your lips move down his neck and to his collarbones and shoulders, that’s when Yangyang just about loses his mind. He forgot how much he loves your lips and teeth nipping at his neck, it stirs a mixture of lust and want in his abdomen that he can never control. His hands have a mind of their own as they move to grip your ass, keeping you in place as he moves his hips upward into you. You both let out sounds of content at the feeling of friction, not even hearing the door behind you open as you’re stuck in your emotions and only thinking about each other.

“NO! You guys are gross!” Ten shrieks the moment he sees the position you two are in. You and Yangyang break apart for the third time, a sigh leaving your lips. Yangyang practically growls in irritation, grabbing a random cat toy that was near the edge of his bed and chucking it at Ten.

“Get out!”

#yangyang #yangyang fluff #wayv fluff #nct fluff #yangyang smut #wayv smut #yangyang x reader #wayv #nct #yangyang scenarios #yangyang imagines #yangyang fic #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fic #00 line

1K notes · View notes

jessie-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Yet another smut I can't be bothered to edit. 😅 This was meant to be a half an hour thing, 4 hours later and this is what we have.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Words: 1.4k Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt comfort, friends to lovers Warnings: Sexual content, mentions of cheating, a lot of swearing. Summary: Frankie comforts you.

You were half-asleep on Frankie couch, middle of summer with the balcony doors wide open, the warm breeze soothing the dull thumping behind your eyes.

Your brain won’t slow down.

Going home. Seeing the clothes around the living room. Hearing them in the bedroom.

You should have done something. Should have barged in there and something clever and witty and something to make them realise how much they had messed up.

Fucking dick.

The other cushion dipped. You barely opened your eyes but the small light filtering in stung.

Frankie sat there, legs spread in nothing but his boxers and you screwed your eyes shut again, trying to get the image out of your mind, ‘It’s too warm to sleep.’

‘Mhm.’

It’s quiet, but you can hear his soft breaths, feel him shuffling around on the sofa trying to get comfortable in the claggy heat.

His bare thigh brushes against your calf and the air gets stuck in your lungs, just a small hitch that he shouldn’t have been able to hear.

Everything you should have said floods you like the fucking heavens had just opened and all the angels wanted to drown you.

You’re a piece of shit.

How could you have done this.

Three years. Three fucking years.

With your god damn fucking secretary? You’ve always had a thing for her. Why am I not surprised.

Frankie shifts again, ‘I should go over there and-‘

‘And do what? It’s three in the morning.’

‘I don’t know, punch them.’

‘You wouldn’t punch them. You’re too nice.’

‘I’m sure Benny’s free.’

You snorted, ‘That would be fun to see.’

It’s too quiet. The couch is too soft. The night is too hot.

It’s over.

I never want to see you again, you fucking…

Fucking…

Oh for fuck sake. Nothing?

You piece of shit.

You…

…you.

What the fuck did I ever do to you?

The touch was jarring, jabbing at the part of your thigh where the hem of his shirt laid. It tingled a moment, the feeling of his warm but rough of his finger then hand was too overwhelming that you could barely register what he was saying.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘Nothing.’

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was looking at you. But you did anyway and it was one of the worst mistakes you had ever made because when you did, and you saw him watching you with the biggest, heart melting brown eyes you had ever seen, it felt like your entire world was about to crash around you for the second time that night.

‘It’s my fault.’

His hand was still on your knee.

‘What they did isn’t your fault.’

It moved, you weren’t even sure if he was aware if it moved, but it moved, fingers sneaking under the hem and squeezing your thigh.

‘I knew things weren’t good for a while. I could have ended things sooner.’

He must have meant it in a friendly way right? Right? Like a friendly hug or a pat on the back!

‘You can’t think that.’

A very, very friendly hug.

‘I fucked up.’

And you better not fucking fuck up again.

Because he moved again, other hand on your cheek, getting right in your face until all you saw was him.

‘This. Isn’t. Your. Fault.’

He meant it to be reassuring. You were sure of it.

Then why was he looking at your lips? A quick glance that, maybe, he wasn’t even aware of.

You kissed him first. You think. You were sure of it.

Jesus Christ, it doesn’t matter.

Frankie was a better kisser than you were expecting. Not that you were expecting anything. Not at all. Totally hadn’t dreamt about it before. He was the right amount of soft and hard, fast and slow, and when he scooted closer, fitting himself between your legs with a small rumble of approval in his chest, he felt perfect.

You’ve really fucked yourself big time.

You locked him in, legs wrapping around his back, pulling him in closer and he moaned against your mouth. He fucking moaned and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

One of you pulled away, both gasping for breath and there wasn’t nearly enough room between the two of you to even think.

His breath smells like coffee.

Nice to know.

‘We don’t have to-‘

‘I want to. Do you?’

‘Yes.’ He was still trying to breathe in a somewhat normal manner, his hot mouth so, so close to your neck it was painful as his hands slipping higher under the shirt until they were resting on your hips, ‘Fuck yes.’

‘We should move. To your bed, or something,’ it was exceedingly hard to speak when he was kissing your neck, somehow knowing all the soft spots to make you weak. ‘Your back.’

He did not give two shits about his back, licking his way to your pulse point before nipping at it and you nearly screamed his name like bloody murder, your body reacting without command as you arched into his touch.

It wasn’t long until your shirt hit the floor, quickly followed by Frankie undressing and you definitely found far too much enjoyment in watching him as he so.

God, make it more obvious why don’t you.

‘I’ve been thinking about this,’ he touched your stomach, then lower, and lower until he met your heat, smiling at your small whimper for him, ‘for so long.’

You wanted him close again, missing his body as a chill washed over you, amplified by your burning skin.

But all you could do was watch, his gaze paralysing, watching for your reaction as he teased your clit with his tongue.

Frankie was way too powerful for his own good. He was a wizard, he must be because everything about the way his mouth worked against you was magic.

He had you screaming his name so fucking fast that you were surprised you even remembered it, clawing at his shoulders while wave after wave of utter bliss washed over you.

How the fuck did he do that so quick?

And why the fuck have I waited this long?

Frankie wore the biggest shit-eating grin as he wiggled his way back up to you, stopping along the way to kiss your thighs and your hips and your stomach and your breasts.

His nose brushed your cheek when he kissed and nipped at your jaw, ‘You doing okay?’

‘Mhm.’ You felt heavy, the kind like you could fall asleep at any moment, ‘That was nice.’

‘Good to know.’

And suddenly you were awake again, watching curiously as Frankie reached over off the couch.

‘Do I wanna know why you keep condoms in your coffee table?’

‘Pope-‘

‘-Okay, nope. We’re not talking about them while naked.’

He huffed a laugh and you dragged his lips back to yours before he said another word.

Not that there was much to say after that.

Not that you could think of anything to say because as Frankie slipped into you, you lost all comprehension of what the world was like before. He fit so effortlessly in you with just enough stretch to anchor you back to earth.

And he fucked you, so fucking good into that couch that you were surprised nothing broke. The springs creaked with each snap of his hips and he started out slow, whispering all the things he knew you wanted to hear, but at some point it all got too much, his body moving against yours like no one else’s ever had.

His name choked you as it fell from your lips. It only spurred him on further, knuckles turning white from the force at which he was holding the arm of the couch, fingers digging into the softness of your hip as your bodies moved in time until you were both unravelling for each other.

Mother fucker has ruined sex.

How the hell is anyone meant to beat that?

It was a while before either of you moved, and even when you did it wasn’t far as Frankie hugged you tight against his chest, shielding you from the warm summers breeze that threatened your body.

You snuggled further into him, counting each beat of his heart until you had the rhythm memorised.

Please don’t let me go.

‘I owe you a blowjob after that.’

The beat broke when he laughed softly, ‘They really didn’t deserve you.’

Maybe not.

But there’s no way in hell I deserve anyone half as close to you.

#frankie morales #frankie morales angst #frankie morals smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #lexi writes #april writes #may writes

144 notes · View notes

troubatrain · 3 years

Text

new year’s day - m.tkachuk

a/n: i wasn’t going to write a part two to tis the damn season, but i couldn’t help but feel like new year’s day was an excellent excuse to write one so here we are. i started this blog about a year ago sometime after new year’s and it’s been a little crazy but you guys are honestly awesome. i just wanted to thank you for constantly supporting my fics and chaotic ways i write and all of the people who i get to idea dump with. thank you & have a happy and safe new year’s!

Life was sweet.

Matthew had been blissed out since the moment you both arrived back in Calgary, like the last piece of his life had fallen back into place. You were the kind of peace he needed, someone who anchored him down before his ego got the best of him, and someone who could see past all of the bullshit to begin with. Matthew knew a storm was on the horizon, the talk about what any of this means after you left to go back to St. Louis. Matthew fucked up the first time, because he a dumb kid who wasn’t ready for anything life was about to throw at him. He got scared, all of the new pressure in his life got real and he ran away from the only thing that comforted him.

For the moment, none of that mattered. What was important to him right now was watching you laugh with a few of his teammates in a dress Matthew intended on taking off later. A laugh he could have recognized anywhere. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matthew was hosting, something he never thought would happen. His teammates thought he was kidding when he asked if they wanted to go to his place for a New Year’s Party, but he was being serious. You outdid yourself, telling Matthew he couldn’t possibly have a party with any sort of decorations.

“You look good with a girlfriend Chucky,” Matthew’s stare was broken but Mark’s voice behind him. A hand lands on his back of his neck to cover the blush. You made him better, that’d been clear from the moment you walked in your freshman English and sat next to Matthew. He had a perfect grade in that class, because he spent a year trying to impress you before he finally just asked you.

“Trying not to fuck it up this time,” Matthew admits sheepishly, because he was so nervous about losing you again, “She’s always been it for me, but I can’t just ask her to stay here-”

“You don’t have to, just let her know she’s part of your plan,” Mark suggests, and it makes sense to Matthew. When you dated the first time, he had all these plans. His plan for where he’d go before he got drafted, his plan to play his first year, and none of them ever included you. Well they did, but Matthew wasn’t about to tell you he wanted to marry you at seventeen. You deserved to know that when he thought about his future, it was with you.

It was here. It was watching you joke with Johnny and Sam like you’d known them for years. It was the first game you went to after you landed and Matthew got to skate out for warm ups and see you against the glass. It was the other morning when he caught you peeking out the windows of his condo while snow was falling, your eyes sparkling at the site. Matthew couldn’t think of anything else he wanted for the rest of his life besides you.

Matthew excuses himself from the conversation, catching a glimpse at the time. It was five minutes to midnight, a New Year was about to ring in and he got to spend it with you. He sneaks behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling into him, “Hi.”

“Matty,” You squirm, giggling while Matthew tickled at your sides. He didn’t care who heard you call him Matty because it was you. You look up at him, a smile on your face while you pressed a kiss to his cheek. Matthew scoffs, pointing to his lips, “At midnight bubs.”

“Yeah bubs,” Sam teases, Matthew lifting up his middle finger. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“Just admit you’re a big baby Matthew, it’ll save us some time,” You smirk, Sam breaking out in laughter. Matthew was a big baby, constantly whining when he couldn’t pull you close in bed or pouting his way through something he didn’t want to do, “Now countdown to midnight with us…”

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

A chorus of cheers and New Year’s wishes filled Matthew’s place, but all of that was static with your lips pressed against his. His hand was splayed across your back, the bare skin peeking out of your dress was on fire from his touch alone. His other hand was tilting your chin up, holding you close to him.

“Happy New Year baby,” Matthew mutters, another quick kiss to your lips before he pulls away. Your eyes fluttered open, snapping back into reality.

By the time it was two in the morning, Matthew had managed to push his party guests out and his next task was you. You were spinning around his bedroom, and Matthew was waiting for you to trip over your own heels every second. You finally flop down on his bed, kicking your feet out, “Please?”

Matthew sighs, pausing from unbuttoning his own dress shirt and sitting next to you on the bed. He unbuckles your heels, “Have fun tonight?”

“I like it here,” You whisper, as if you’d been afraid to admit it. You snuggle into the bed, your eyelids getting heavier by the minute, “Because you’re here.”

“I like it here more when you’re here too pretty girl,” Matthew grins, his eyes soft when he looks down at you, “You need to get out of this dress.”

“Get me out of it,” You smirk, picking your head and giving Matthew a wink. If you weren’t five tequila shots deep he probably would have, but he knew you were far too drunk for that. He chuckles, shaking his head and tossing you one of his shirts and walking into the bathroom. He finally got back into his room, your head on his pillow while you waited for him.

He finally jumps into bed, throwing an arm over your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “Goodnight.”

“Matty?” You call out, whispering before he falls asleep on you. He hums, waiting for you to speak, “Don’t give up on me this time.”

And Matthew could have sworn he felt his heart break.

***

You woke up with a massive headache, only getting worse by Matthew’s snoring in your ear. The past week had been nothing short of perfect, Matthew pulling out all the stops to prove he really did want you back. You roll over in his arms, tracing the side of his face, he wasn’t going to wake up. Matthew hadn’t changed, and that meant he still slept like a rock. Your fingers moved along the stubble across his chin, a new addition with change you were starting to love.

You finally got out of bed, tossing on whatever hoodie Matthew had closest to the bed and padding down the hallway to turn up the heat. Calgary was cold, a bitter kind you were in a hate/love relationship with. Most of the love came from why you were here, and the weather was something you just needed to deal with. You walk through the living room, plastic cups from the night before were covering the place. Confetti and polaroid's thrown across the coffee table with intentions for them to be a problem for another time. You pick one up, of you sitting on Matthew’s lap. You were looking at the camera, a wide smile on your face while Matthew was just looking at you.

“I want that one,” Matthew’s raspy morning voice caused you to jump, his long arm reaching over and holding the picture in his hand, “For here.”

You give Matthew a small smile, watching him run his finger over the picture. He’s quiet for a minute, biting his lip like he’d been debating what to say, “Matty?”

“I see you in my future,” Matthew breathes out, his last and final confession he had to make to both of you, “When I think about all of the things I want, you’re always there.”

“What if it happens again?” You whisper, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. The very real fear of this imploding on the two of you scared you like no other. You had to put those pieces back together alone, and you weren’t sure if you were prepared to do it again, “What if this is too much and-”

“It won’t be, I’m ready this time,” Matthew assures you, “I was ready then too, but I didn’t think you’d be. I had to give you up because you deserved better than following me around while I got myself settled. I am, I’m here and I’m ready for this.”

Matthew’s voice was raw, pleading with you that he was telling you the honest to god truth, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’d rather do hard with you than easy with someone else Y/N,” Matthew smiles, his dimples poking out.

“Matthew I swear if you break my heart again,” You threaten, poking your finger into his chest, “I will let your brother kick the shit out of you.”

Matthew chuckles pressing kisses all over your face, the sound of your laugh flooding his place. You spent the rest of New Year’s cleaning the condo, picking up the empty champagne bottles left from the night before and spending the day on the couch before your flight left.

***

What Matthew didn’t know then, was that it would work. Long distance was rough, but you’d both made enormous sacrifices for each other. It took planes, trains, cars and a whole of patience, but by the time the next year rolled around- things still seemed to work. You walked through the lobby of Matthew’s place in Calgary, your suitcase felt heavier than it had been on any of your previous trips. You had a late Christmas present for him, one that if you didn’t give him in person it wasn’t going to be the same.

“You’re here!” Matthew hops off the couch when you let yourself in, he grabs your waist picking you up and spinning you around. Matthew presses a kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you stopped him, “Babeeeee…”

“Quit your whining, I have something for you,” You stop him, opening up your suitcase and pulling out a folder. He furrowed his eyebrows, sliding it open. It was a job offer. One for your dream position. In Calgary.

Matthew was stunned, speechless while his eyes read over the offer four times. It was real and if it meant what his brain thought it did it meant that a year of long distance was about to be so fucking worth it. His finger ran across the paper, looking up at you. You had a grin on your face, happy with yourself for not telling him until this very moment.

“I’m going to take it, if that wasn’t obvious-” You start to explain, but Matthew had scooped you back into his arms before you could finish speaking. His arms were holding you tightly, muttering something into your shoulder, “What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Matthew’s eyes were bulging out his head, and you narrowed your eyes at him. He was lying to you, you just gave him the best news of his life and he’s lying to you.

“Stop lying”, You demand, stepping out his arms, “Do you not want me here?”

“Fuck, no baby I do, I just-” Matthew sighs, running into his arm and rummaging through his drawers. You stood by the door, confused as to what had gotten into your boyfriend.

“I was going to do this tonight, I even flew out our families, because I got you back on New Year’s and,” Matthew steps back into the room, a blue box in his hand in a color you’d be damned if you didn’t recognize, “In all of my life, I’ve only ever known that I was supposed to be with one person, and that was you. You’re my soulmate, and the world has constantly tried to pry us apart but I swear it just made us stronger. We’re the best god damn team in the world Y/N, and I think we’d be even better if you married me?”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears spilling out while Matthew’s soft blue eyes were staring into yours. He was right, you were the best team in the world. You were two people who could look at each other in a crowded room and know what the other was thinking. You were in love, and the few years where you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t always going to be Matthew at the end were just a part of the story. You nod your head, watching Matthew put that ring on your left hand and you couldn’t help but think about the way you’d get to tell your children and grandchildren your most epic love story.

Because after all, you wanted his midnights, and everyday after that.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

366 notes · View notes