#and you can be angry and you don’t have to limit that to anything because it’s yours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matsunoluvr · 9 months ago

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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ the love and deepspace boys favourite body parts

warnings: characters may be ooc, some suggestive writing, limited knowledge on xavi and zayne (rafayel stan…)

characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus

link to master list here!!

information: these are based on the idea that the mc and LIs are either dating or very clearly romantically (and possibly more lol) attracted to one another!!

author’s notes: xavier’s affinity for physical affection infected me and now i can’t stop thinking abt it curse abyssal chaos and their stupid stories wdym we were cuddling w xavier ARGHH

more below the cut!! :3

as a painter, rafayel is, naturally, drawn to the whole figure - he’d say things such as “the body can show what words don’t speak” and such.

in the past he’s dabbled in figure painting, after all he is an artist at heart - he had to try everything - but he found that overall he much rather paint sceneries and landscapes. he just saw no appeal in the human body, it was all rather dull in comparison to the beauty nature held.

that was, of course, before he met you. ,and, well, every since then he found it difficult to paint anyone, anything, that didn’t include any aspect of you. from the exact hues of your eyes to the supple red of your lips after you two kiss, rafayel would incorporate your essence into any painting of his.

so it’s obvious that he loves your body, he loves every inch, but what was his favourite?

well… rafayel is obsessed with your hands… like so obsessed it’s insane. always wanting to hold them, kiss them, caress them, everything.

feeling your skin on his, no matter if your hands are soft or rough, large or small, fingers are long or thinner, he just loves the intimacy of intertwining his fingers with yours.

sometimes you can feel his gaze on you when you fiddle with them, if you run them through your hair or finger as a loose thread in your clothing - his eyes are fondly observing your every move.

if you ask what his obsession with hands were, he’d deny any specific attraction to them

“Hands? They’re just like any other body part.”

but then you ask specifically, what’s the obsession with your hands, and then his ears are turning red.

“Y-your hands? Nothing, no- I do not have an obsession with your hands…”

but then you grasp his chin, tilt his face up and trail a finger along his jaw and he’s shivering, flinching deliciously to your touch

tease him for it and he’ll get flustered - frowning but not denying anything at this point, because your finger is now trailing down his neck and gently brushing against his collar bones.

of course, his affinity for your hands can be exploited.

for example, when rafayel ignores you for sustained periods of time working on a painting.

“Wait a second, I’m painting.” and you get sick of waiting, so you decide to toy with him a little

he’s so engrossed in painting he doesn’t even notice you creeping up behind him, he doesn’t notice you until your hands are sneaking around his small waist, moving forwards until you’re toying with the buttons on the front of his shirt.

his small yelp of surprise is adorable, and the red that creeps up his neck to his ears is beautiful - you can tell his attention is now narrowed in on the way your fingers creep through the gaps in his shirt and your nails gently scratch at his abdomen

you can hear his breathing stutter and his heartbeat quicken, and if you turn him around to face you - well you don’t need to be a mind reader to tell what he was thinking when you looked at the tent growing downstairs…

“Please… I won’t ignore you I promise… so please keep touching me.”

we all know xavier can’t keep his hands off you, from purposefully pulling you a little too close to him when a wanderer seems too angry to cuddling into your chest when taking a nap.

he’s sly, sly like a little minx, and he knows exactly how to tease you.

with this in mind, his favourite part of your body is your neck - just like how his neck is his weak-spot

he is a very possessive man, and god does he love acting on it to prove to the world that you’re his (though with the glares he gives other men/women, I don’t really think he needs to make any other point that man is terrifying when he is jealous)

he shows his love by literally devouring your neck, sucking hickeys and giving little love bites all over your neck - if you tell him to stop he’ll definitely be giving you a petulant pout.

xavier just loves the fact that he’s the only one allowed to touch you there, that he’s the only one that’s allowed to nibble at your sensitive neck - the most vulnerable part of your body. the control he has over that area of your skin drives him NUTS

like seriously, you two will be making out (see this post for the lnd boys giving first kisses teehee) and all of a sudden he’s lunging at your neck and kissing it like there’s no tomorrow - all whilst sporting red ears and furrowed eyebrows.

xavier looks so concentrated, really dedicating all of his energy into making sure everyone knows you are his. also trying to focus the blood anywhere but south LMAO

by the way, you can exploit this by purposefully wearing low-cut v-necks, exposing your neck all for xavier.

even the opposite can work… wearing turtle necks or scarves, restricting his access when making out can get him riled up

one time he almost ripped your turtle neck with how far he was tugging it down so he could suck at your collar bones…

one time you and xavier went on a mission where you dressed undercover as a rich couple and went to a masquerade ball

when you and xavier split up, a man that you recognised as your ‘neighbour’ - who lived in the apartment next to the one you and xavier rented - approached you and started up a conversation - to be honest it wasn’t exactly flirtatious nor suggestive but you suddenly found yourself being yanked back into a solid chest

when you looked up you could see the seething possessiveness that simmered in xavier’s irises, and his grip on your waist was tight.

“Are you okay, dear? Is this man bothering you?”

his voice is much, much colder than you’ve ever heard it before, and there’s an edge to it that was so un-xavier like.

needless to say, the man scurried off as fast as possible

that night… well xavier made sure to pretty up your neck in lovely blotches of purpled-pinks…

his tongue is surprisingly skilled, swirling and caressing your sensitive skin in sensual patterns…

the next morning when you accidentally bumped into the man from the night before, you could definitely feel a sense of smug satisfaction come from xavier as the man’s eyes widened upon seeing your marked up neck

“What? I didn’t mean to… I just got carried away.”

zayne is a gentle-man, and his pure and innocent answer would be your eyes, and it’s not wrong. he loves gazing into your eyes - even though he doesn’t like it when you reciprocate the action.

whenever you’re lost in thought, or gazing into the distance, he finds himself searching your irises, or losing himself in your pupils.

but, if we really unveil dr zayne’s thoughts… he really loves your lips

like of course there’s the romantic and thoughtful side to it, he loves the little quirks and silent give-aways your lips can tell, such as the way they twitch a little when you lie or the way they look when you smile

he loves how you sometimes nibble on the bottom lip when deep in thought, and finds it especially cute when you sulk when he acts clueless to your flirtation

he especially loves, however, the way they glisten after you lick your lips with your soft tongue… or after he’s done having his way with you…

zayne loves when they turn swollen after a long make out session, or the way they pout when he teases you - leaning in for a kiss only to pull away and tuck some hair behind your ear

he loves the way your lips change colours, shades and hues, on warmer days they look velvety and on cooler days they’re more dry, and when he’s nipping at your bottom lip and kissing you deeply they turn a richer, more sensational shade of red…

sometimes he enjoys just watching you eat, seeing your mouth relax into a satisfied smile as you greedily swallow up your favourite dish

you can, obviously, use this to your advantage.

when he’s talking all mr professional-cold-hearted zayne mode, just draw attention to your mouth, whether it be by wetting your lips or by bitting your bottom lip, it’ll almost definitely cause him to hesitate

“…concerning your heart medication…” and then he drifts off ever so slightly before continuing his tangent on your health. it’s not a huge pause but coming from dr zayne? ANY sign of hesitation is a huge thing!

and sometimes, well he enjoys a little bit more…

the first time you really acknowledge his thing for your lips was when you two were out on a little date.

summer was at its peak and it was fucking boiling, even with your walking AC unit - dr zayne - it was still way too hot to handle

in response, you and zayne decide to take a trip to the local ice-cream parlour - he orders some form of ice drink - not too sweet - with whipped cream, whilst you order your favourite.

at one point - one thing led to another - and zayne ends up with some cream on his finger… and fuck if you were going to let this opportunity pass…

you grabbed his hand just before he could protest and took the tip of his finger in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gently sucking off the cream.

needless to say his rationality was lost, the only thought in his brain dissolved into the carnal need to claim you.

you can literally see the moment in his eyes, from confused to extremely, whole-heartedly, soulfully, biblically aroused - it’s actually a spectacle to observe

needless to say he took you to your apartment within the next 30 minutes and let’s just say… you didn’t get a good night’s sleep LOL

“I didn’t know you liked playing games this much. Let’s see how long you can play my game then.”

guys… i’m sorry… i can’t help it even if it falls into the stereotypical fuck-boy sylus core head cannons…

he’s an ass man.

sylus just loves a good ol’ ass, and unfortunately due to his unashamed nature he absolutely does not hide his admiration for your… assets.

gifts of form fitting leggings, dresses/suits, god sometimes even hunters uniform that flatter your lower half - he’s absolutely transfixed on your ass it’s actually concerning

“Your old trousers didn’t fit, they were too large. Wear these.”

if you did wear them sylus is going to explode. explode as in watch you with a starved look in his eyes, just begging for you.

when you’re out and around his residence - e.g. by the kitchen sink, don’t be surprised if you randomly feel a large, firm hand situate itself right on one of your cheeks, and i’m not talking about the ones on your face LMAOOO

and god if you bend over in front of him he’s going to be walking up behind you and observing very… very closely - at what you’re doing of course..

if you look up you’ll where his eyes are looking and it’s certainly not at what you’re doing (he’s appreciating your ass)

why he likes your ass, do i even need to explain?

does a man really need a reason to like ass??

he also likes love handles and tummies, i can totally see sylus absolutely adoring every part of your body tbh i wholeheartedly believe in love-sick loser boyfriend sylus who accidentally falls head over heels in love with you

love handles - he likes the look of them, he thinks they compliment your body, whether your body presents more masculine, feminine or neither!!

he also loves uh, grabbing onto them when he needs something to hold whilst… performing activities with you lets just say that

if you’re on the thinner side don’t worry, he doesn’t discriminate when it comes to ass, all shapes and sizes are sylus approved!!!

i can imagine how sylus would suffer if you acted oblivious, wearing tight trousers or wearing dresses/suits that clearly were tailored by his personal designer to compliment your figure

at balls that you were forced to attend with sylus in the n109 zone, he always stood suspiciously close to your back - either hiding/protecting your ass from creepy men or keeping it all for himself…

if not your ass, and if we are talking about more… appropriate parts of the body, he’d probably go for your hands.

he just loves how small they are against his, and especially loves biting them gently

speaking of which sylus 100% has a thing for biting that i don’t think people talk about enough - a lot? possibly, i haven’t seen much, but definitely not enough.

after your evol linkage ordeal and having to have his hands close to yours all the time, it really made him realise how much smaller your hands were

also, the idea of intwining fingers, holding hands… maybe even your hands wrapping around something else… yeah he can sometimes get carried away thinking about your hands…

in the café when you get all handsy on him, he definitely has one too many nsfw thoughts about you as he notices how warm and small the palm of your hand was in relation to his own body.

“Dont stop, keep touching me, kitten.”

AN: tl;dr the LND men are absolutely smitten for you and love your body no matter what. for the first 3 it was pretty simple for me, but i struggled with sylus. he seems to be a touchy man who doesn’t shy from physical contact so I got a little carried away… oops

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allywthsr · 1 year ago

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FIGHTING BIRTHDAY | (l.norris)

summary: Lando drinks too much and it gets out of hand, the birthday boy is angry at you

wordcount: 6.3k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: ANGST!, vomiting, being drunk

notes: please let me know if it’s gut wrenching angst, I never feel the angst if I write it. Requested by anon! Thank you for your request, let me know if it’s how you wanted it :)

I hope Lando is okay, that crash was scary!

”Lando, maybe you should slow down with the drinks.“

You were at the birthday party you arranged for Lando, and he was already peppered. He was barely able to stand, his words were just slurs and his mood changed from funny and happy Lando to angry and annoyed Lando. A couple of drinks made Lando a really funny person, when his world started to spin, he got less funny and more agitated and when he was piss drunk, he got angry at anyone, no matter what you would do or who you were. Of course, he was supposed to enjoy his birthday and of course, he could drink how much he wanted but you were scared of what would happen once he reached that piss-drunk stage again. Last time he screamed at you when you wanted to take him home and you didn’t need a redo of it.

Currently, he was at the world spinning stage, but on the edge to piss drunk, so you tried to keep him sane and stop him from drinking so much, or maybe have a water and a snack in between.

”Oh come on Y/N, you only turn twenty-four once, let me enjoy it.“

”Of course, but maybe you should have a water.“

”Where am I? At a race or at a party? Don’t be such a party pooper and let me have fun drinking, I can handle it.“

So you gave him a smile and wandered off to join your friends again, the friends being the driver’s girlfriends. One more drink and he would pass the piss drunk stage and you were scared of it, you weren’t ready to argue over nothing tonight, especially because you’re not sober either, but you knew your limits and you wouldn’t be so angry at someone, no matter how much you drank. So when you saw him downing his glass after you left him, slightly giving you the side eye, Max came and gave him another glass of something strong and they both clinked their glasses together, and Lando took a big gulp of the beverage.

You sighed and Pietra looked at you.

”Is everything okay?“

”Yeah, Lando is drunk again, but I can handle him.“

”Are you sure? Maybe Max can bring him home tonight.“

”No, don’t worry. He‘s my boyfriend, he won’t do anything. And Max is just as drunk as he is.“

After a few minutes, Max and Lando came over, just by the look in Lando’s eyes you could see that he wasn’t on this earth anymore, but somewhere in his drunken mind. Max had to hold Lando up and looked at you with a pleading look, you knew what to do, so you got up and got to Lando’s side. You linked under his arms and walked with him to the bar, ordering two waters, you sat him down on the barstool and tried to get him to drink it.

”Lando, come on. Drink this for me.“

”Wh… s‘thats?“

You knew if you told him it was water, he wouldn’t drink it, so you had to come up with some lies.

”It’s pure vodka, I have one too! Let’s see who can down it first? The winner gets to drink the glass of the other.“

You lifted the other glass, but it wasn’t meant for you, it was also meant for him, maybe this race thing made him drink it.

”Su..re.“

So he lifted the glass to his lips, just as you did and he gulped it down, while you took tiny sips of yours.

”Won!“

”Yes Lando, you beat me! You wanna have mine?“

He only nodded and grabbed your glass and downed it too. Good. At least there is some water in him now. He looked at the guy behind the bar and yelled: ”Can I have something strong?“ or at least he tried, it all sounded like gibberish, but the guy understood and was about to start working on making him a drink but you lifted your hand towards him.

”Hey Lando, look! Max is dancing silly.“

While you held onto his sleeve, so he wouldn’t fall while turning around you talked to the guy.

”Listen, can you just pretend to make him something and can it be a water with some coke, so he thinks he‘s drinking some coke mixture? He‘s had enough.“

The bartender nodded and got to work, while Lando was crackling beside you, apparently, he saw something funny, but when you looked around you saw nothing but his friends dancing normally. He was a completely different person when he was drunk.

When he turned around again, the bartender just put the glass of water with a spritz of coke on the surface. With a bright grin, Lando took it in his hand and took a big sip. This guy was trying to blackout or something.

”Babe… toilet… pee.“

He tried to point to the toilets but pointed in a completely different direction, so you got up and pulled on his T-shirt to get him to stand up too, you had to carry him to the toilets and waited in front of his stall for him to finish his business, but when you heard him gag, you pushed open the door and saw a kneeling Lando.

”Shit Lando, why didn’t you say anything.“

You sat next to him and stroked his back while he emptied his stomach. To be honest? You were happy he was puking right now, at least he would be a little more sober afterwards. When he was finished, you lifted him back up and checked for any spills on his T-shirt, but luckily there weren’t any and he only went to the sink to wash his hands and his mouth. You both went back to the lounge and sat down, you held his drink out to him and he took it, carefully sipping the drink. He looked at you and his eyes looked a little clearer now, but what happened next, was something you kinda saw coming but kinda didn’t.

”Is this.. water?“

”No, look, it’s a really heavy mixture, the coke is almost see-through.“

”Y/N, I know water when I taste it, why are you trying to give me such bullshit.“

”Because you’re drunk, and you should slow down.“

”Who are you to tell me what to do, huh?“

”Someone who doesn’t like your drunk side.“

”Then maybe you shouldn’t be with me“, before you could say or do anything else, he got up and left the lounge, getting lost in the crowd.

Now his birthday was ruined, at least for you. You loved birthdays from family and friends, especially Lando’s, you had planned this day for weeks, organizing everything, down to the last detail and now you sat in the lounge, waiting for it to end. You were mad but mostly sad, you just hoped he would slow down on alcohol and sober up, but you knew it wouldn’t happen.

Every now and then a girlfriend of drivers and friends would show up and talk to you, but you mostly sat by yourself in the lounge, waiting for Lando to come back and apologize. You tried to spot Lando in the crowd, but it was impossible, the club was packed with friends and family of his, and because of the flickering light, they all kind of looked the same.

When Max joined you, you knew it was bad.

”Y/N… I hate to say it, but… I‘m drunk.“

You chuckled.

”I know Maxie, where’s P?“

”I..I don’t know, lost her a while ago, probably dancing really sexy somewhere.“

”Then why are you here, shouldn’t you be dancing with her?“

”No.. Lando is piss drunk and people are leaving… he won’t drink water.“

”I know, but we will leave soon, don’t worry.“

”But he is… rude, make him.. uhm nice again.“

”He‘s rude to me too, tomorrow he‘ll be fine.“

Suddenly Max got up.

”Come on.. I‘ll bring you to Bob.“

You thought it was funny how he slurred his words, due to him being drunk, he probably thought he was saying things perfectly fine but it wasn’t the case.

He held out his hand for you to take and you did, when you also stood and Max started walking, he was swaying from side to side, no longer being able to walk straight anymore. Hand in hand you walked with Max to where you assumed was Lando, he was sitting at the bar. Sitting wasn’t the right word, he was more like hanging over the bar, it didn’t even look comfortable. The club was almost empty now, a few drunk people were dancing or sitting at the bar as well, but it emptied quickly. Lando turned around and saw Max and you, his features darkened rapidly, oh oh. You immediately let go of Max‘s hand and patted his arm, walking the last few meters to Lando by yourself.

”Should we go home?“

”You…. NO!“

His loud scream scared you, and some people turned to see what was going on.

”Lan, come on, you’re causing a scene.“

”I.. am? You’re with Max.“

”He only brought me to you, because I couldn’t find you. Come on, let’s go outside“, but he only turned around and looked towards the bartender again.

”Another!“, and he pointed to his still full glass.

”Man, I think you should slow down.“

”You don’t tell me what to do! You do your job.“

You decided it was enough, this was a poor bartender who could run to the next tabloid and talk about how bad Lando Norris is.

With one last step, you stood directly next to him and grabbed under his arms, to pull him up. He was wonky on his feet and grabbed your waist when he was about to fall.

”You’re a bad bartender… Y/N, tell him to make me another drink!“

”You’re next drink is outside, let’s go yeah?“

Lando nodded and you looked at the bartender, who was looking shocked and you muttered a quiet ’Sorry‘ before walking with Lando out of the club.

”Where’s the drink?“

”At the hotel, should we go there?“

”You set me up!“

”What? No! If you want you can have a drink there, but I’m tired and you should sleep soon too. It’s almost five am, Lando please.“

”You’re a bitch!“

A few people were standing outside, waiting for a cab or smoking, they all looked at Lando and were shocked about his behavior, just like you. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you could hold them back, you didn’t want to cry in front of his friends. You had a few fights when he was drunk but he never called you a bitch before.

”Excuse me?“

”That’s what you are! There’s no drink, you lied to me. I want a drink, I‘m going back in.“

”Lando, no! Please.“

Now he got closer to you, standing right before you and he was angry. He was pointing fingers at you, ”You’re a bitchy bitch, let me have fun on my birthday, but no! Y/N is coming to ruin the day, as always. I‘m not allowed to have fun, not even on my birthday. You’re the meanest person ever, my party is in full swing and you’re moping because I‘m having fun“, you tried to push him away, to distance yourself a little, you didn’t want him to come any closer, not in this state.

”The Party is over, Lando. Let’s go back to the hotel, please.“

But he ignored you and walked back in, with a big sigh, you leaned against the wall and waited a few minutes. You needed to calm down too, being called a bitch by the human you loved most, hurt, it hurt like a bitch. Hah, pun, because of bitch..

You knew he was drunk, but it wasn’t really an excuse, he shouldn’t think about you like that, even when drunk. After a few minutes, you went back in for the hunt for Lando. He was probably sitting somewhere at the bar and that was where you first went.

He was slouched, again, and you had no energy left to fight with him.

”I‘m going back to the hotel, I don’t care if you sit here for the rest of the week or if you come with me. I won’t come and get you in a few minutes when you decide I’m right.“

Of course, you cared if he came back, but you knew this would make him come with you faster, he was like a little child.

”Fine! But only if I get another drink.“

With a sigh you nodded and looked at the bartender, it was the same one, that did the waters for you earlier, he knew what to do, mix water with some random sirup and act like it’s alcohol. The orange-looking drink was downed by Lando and he said nothing, he got up and forcefully grabbed your arm to stabilize himself.

”Ouch.. Lando, you’re hurting me.“

But he didn’t do anything and just started walking towards the entrance.

”Lando, loosen your grip, it really hurts.“

”Shut up, I don’t care.“

Now your eyes were filling with tears, this wasn’t the Lando you knew and loved, he was some other person that you didn’t like. Your arm was hurting but you carried him outside, and when he was leaning against the wall he let go of your arm. You were sure it would leave a bruise.

You waited five minutes for a cab and both of you got in, once it stopped, you told the driver the address and he started driving, during that drive, Lando tried to touch you on your thigh, getting closer to your private area, but you weren’t in the mood. You pushed his hands away and he pouted, trying it again just a few seconds later. You gave him a stern look, but he didn’t care, he kept on doing what he was doing and you endured it. You weren’t ashamed or disgusted by his touch, but you weren’t feeling it. In his drunk mind, he didn’t get it, so he continued. The drive was only ten minutes long, so when you got out and carried Lando up to the room, you were ready for some peace, but luck wasn’t on your side today.

Lando was trying to kiss you and when you turned your head away for the fourth time, he was ready to fight.

”What is your fucking problem?“

”I don’t want to have sex right now, I’m not in the mood.“

”But I am!“

”Go and take a shower or something.“

”Not only are you a bitch, but a boring girl too! You won’t even have sex with me, what kind of girlfriend does that?“

”Lando, please, calm down. Take a deep breath and go to sleep, we‘ll talk about it in the morning.“

”I don’t want to take any of your fucking breathes, they’re useless, just like you. You can’t even pleasure me.“

You tried to stay calm and don’t let the words get to you, but they hit a spot and tears were slowly escaping your eyes.

”Look at you! You’re crying because you can’t take the truth, I’d rather fuck an oompaloompa instead of you.“

You turned around and walked away from him, you tried to get to the bathroom and lock yourself in, give him time to cool down, but he was faster.

”You do not run away from me when I‘m talking.“

”Lando, who are you? My Lando wouldn’t talk to me like that.“

”Your Lando grew tired of you.“

”Just go to sleep, I know you don’t mean any of these things you’re saying right now.“

He scoffed and sat down on the bed, at least something. You quickly changed in the bathroom and removed your makeup, you didn’t do the full skincare routine, you were tired, psychically but mostly mentally. When you came out of the bathroom, Lando was also changed, well, he removed his clothing and was only wearing his boxershorts. On a normal occasion, you would jump his bones and things would get steamy but today, you wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

You sat down on your side of the bed and sighed, this was a night to forget.

”Don’t sigh that loud, the party was your idea. If you can’t handle me drunk, then don’t organize a fucking party for me.“

”I wanted to be nice and organize something you like. Because all of a sudden, you meet these new people and you love parties, just four years ago, you told me how much you hated going out and rather stay in with me.“

”People change, you’re just acting out because you don’t want to see me happy.“

”I want to see you happy! But are you only happy when you’re drunk and partying?“

”You don’t make me happy anymore, so yes.“

Wow, you knew he was angry and this was the anger speaking out of him. He wanted to hurt you and he knew how he could.

”Lando, I don’t think you know what you are saying right now, so it’s better if you sleep and we talk tomorrow.“

”You’re just scared that I‘ll break up with you because without me, you would be a nobody. You wouldn’t have the luxurious life you have now.“

Now you sighed and looked at your fingers, this was a big insecurity of yours. He was right, without him you would still be in your boring job and stuck in your old life, but you liked your new job at quadrant, the traveling you get to do with

Lando and seeing new places all over the world. The idea that Lando could break up with you, was something you carried around every day.

”You don’t even have an answer to that, do you? Because I‘m right.“

”Lando please, you’re hurting me, you’re very mean right now.“

You felt as if you were discussing with a thirteen-year-old teenager.

”You were mean earlier when you brought me water.“

”I only want the best for you, can’t you see that?“

”If you would truly love me, you wouldn’t have given me water.“

”I love you so much! Don’t ever doubt that, but I just wanted you to remember the night.“

He completely ignored your comment and kept going.

”Maybe I should find a new girlfriend, that wouldn’t betray me like that.“

God, you couldn’t believe he was saying such things only because of some water, but he was piss drunk and probably didn’t even know the love he normally felt for you.

”I can just look through my DMs, you have no idea how many girls write me every day.“

He was hitting all of your spots and he knew it, you didn’t know if his drunk mind was trying to get you back for the water, or if he actually meant it, drunk words, sober thoughts, right?

You got up and got dressed again, you couldn’t endure his words anymore, you had to leave for the night, and give him time to cool down.

”What are you doing?“

”I‘m going to sleep somewhere else, you’re hurting me and you said it yourself, when I ever feel like I’m not welcome somewhere, I don’t have to feel the need to stay - so I’m not staying.“

”So you’re leaving me?“

”Only for the night.“

You gathered new clothes and your toiletries before packing everything in your backpack.

”I‘ll get a new room or something, you sober up and maybe think about your actions. I‘ll be back at some point.“

”Pathetic, you’re running away from me.“

”I‘m not runni-“

”And to think that I was going to propose to you soon, I‘m so happy you showed me your true colors.“

Your heart sunk, a proposal? It made sense, you‘ve been together for years, and everything went well, normally. You two were in love.

”Lando please, it’s only about a water, you’re acting like I cheated.“

He sat up and glared at you, ”It feels like it, you cheated on me when you gave me that water. It was my birthday, I‘m supposed to enjoy that, not drinking water.“

”We’re running around in circles, I’m leaving and you get back to me when you’re sober and know what you’re talking about.“

”I wouldn’t have thought that you would ever run away from me.“

”I‘m giving us space before we say things we don’t mean, or I say things I don’t mean, you already said things.“

”Only true things.“

Without another word, you grabbed your backpack and put it on back, walking towards the door, giving the room one last glance, to see if you collected everything for the night.

”Lay on your side at least, I don’t want you to choke on your own vomit“, even when he said such mean things to you, you still cared.

”I wish I‘d never asked you to be my girlfriend, then I would’ve fucked a random girl into oblivion and I wouldn’t have blue balls right now. In fact, I wish I‘d never even met you, I‘d have a more stress-free life.“

Before he could say anything else, you opened the door and rushed through it. These words were hurting you badly, did he mean them? Without trying to think about it, you made your way down to the reception to ask for a room, and luckily they had one available in that you could move in right away. The receptionist did look at you weirdly and asked if she could help, but you declined and only said you just needed a new room.

When you moved in and laid on the bed, all you could think about was the words Lando said to you, what if it was true? What if you‘d never met Lando, maybe he’d be happier now, not angry at you for giving you water. It’s stupid, because of a damn water. You were sure if he had drunk any more alcohol, he would be black-out drunk right now, maybe that would’ve been better than trying to get him to sober up. There was no right or wrong here, you just hoped he was back to normal when he woke up. If he felt sorry he definitely had to do better than just apologizing, but you needed time, a lot of time. Being called a bitch by your boyfriend wasn’t something that was okay in any way. You were scared of what the day would bring after you woke up, either he would understand his mistakes or both of you would be single.

You tried to fall asleep, but your thoughts drifted back to Lando, was he sleeping? Was he vomiting? Hopefully, he didn’t vomit in his sleep and choked on it. You watched some Netflix and while doing that, you finally fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up in a cold bed, the bed always felt cold without Lando in it, and with all the things he said to you, you still missed him. Your phone was pinging with messages and they were from Lando and some of your friends. First, you looked at Lando’s and saw what he had to say.

When he was trying to call you, you thought about answering, but you wanted to let him cook a little longer. Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted him to hurt a little too, all the ugly things he said to you weren’t something lightly, and even because he was drunk, it wasn’t something you should use as an excuse.

Next, you looked at your friends‘ texts.

Shit. You didn’t know there were pictures taken, so not only did you have the situation with Lando, but now it was public and you seemed like the bad guy, when you did nothing wrong, you only gave him water to sober up.

But eventually, you couldn’t contain your anger towards him and you were scared of the conversation, after an hour of ignoring his texts and calls, you got ready and gathered your things before going to your old room. You unlocked the door and Lando stood in the room.

”Y/N! Where have you been? I was super worried,“ he ran to hug you, but you didn’t hug him back, you only stood straight and waited for him to be done. He tried to kiss you next but you only turned your head to the side, so his lips grazed your cheek.

”Are you okay? Why are you not kissing me back?“

”We should sit down.“

He looked at you confused but sat down on the bed and waited for you to say the next thing.

”The last thing you remember from yesterday was you puking?“

He nodded.

”You got more drunk after, and well, you were pretty hurtful towards me.“

”What did I say?“

”You called me a bitch, said you wish you never met me, then you wouldn’t have such a boring life or made me your girlfriend, said I can’t pleasure you, you were rude to the bartenders, should I go on?“

”That wasn’t me.“

You scoffed, of course, it was him. You pulled out your phone and opened the link your friend sent you of the article.

”If you tell me, this isn’t you and me, then I believe you.“

He looked at the article with big eyes and was stuttering, clearly, he didn’t expect there to be pictures of the situation.

”But why were we fighting? Everything was perfect.“

”Yeah, until you were too drunk and I tried to give you water to sober up, you noticed and freaked out. Called me a bitch and all that, when I finally dragged you to the hotel, you said that you never should’ve met me.“

He got up and walked through the room, ”all because of water?“

You nodded and looked outside the window with the beautiful view on the strip.

”Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that, you have to trust me.“

But you said nothing and kept looking out the window, you knew this was coming, but you were too hurt to let it slide.

”Y/N, please. You’re not a bitch, you’re my angel. I love you so much.“

”Drunken words, sober thoughts, remember.“

”You know how angry I get at things when I’m drunk, do you remember the time I yelled at Max for standing too close to the drinks? Because of stupid things, I get angry. I didn’t mean anything I said.“

”Doesn’t justify it, Lando I’m sorry but I don’t know if I’ll stay in Vegas, I wish it turned out different but you really fucking hurt me.“

”No! Y/N! You can’t leave me, I need you. We planned so many cool things in Las Vegas.“

”Maybe, but I didn’t think you would hurt me that much.“

He sat down and grabbed your hand, you let him, after all, you loved him.

”You have to believe me, baby, I didn’t mean anything I said. I love how cared for me and tried to give me water, I’ll never drink again, I promise!“, he tugged a loose piece of hair behind your ear and grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

”Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously Lando. You called me a bitch, drunk or not, this is something that came out of your mouth!“, now you were the one that got up and released yourself from his touch.

”I am! I just think we should forget about it, because, clearly, I wasn’t me.“

With a huff, you went and grabbed your bag.

”Think about what you did, I need to go, maybe you were right, maybe we never should’ve met, maybe this relationship was supposed to last for a few years, but not forever and always.“

”Wait Y/N, don-“, but before he could continue, you were out the door and in the hallway. Slowly you walked to the elevator and waited for him to run after you, but he didn’t. The door stayed closed, no matter how long you stared at it and waited for it opened. With tears in your eyes, you waited for the elevator and it took you to the lobby.

You had no plan for where you were going, you just walked. You wanted him to think about the things and realize this isn’t something that he can fix with an easy ’I‘m sorry‘. You walked for at least an hour before resting in a small café near the strip, you prayed that there were no fans of Lando, normally you loved meeting the faces behind the edits, but today you needed your peace. You ordered your favorite beverage and checked your phone, not one call or text from

Lando appeared on the screen, instead millions of messages from Instagram. Private messages, comments, tagged pictures and videos, the list goes on and on. You had even received messages from your and Lando’s parents, yours were worried about you and wanted to know what happened, same as Lando’s. They also told you they couldn’t reach Lando and wanted to know if he was okay. This was all too much, you wish you threw this damn party, then you would be happy with Lando right now. You hated fighting, especially with Lando. After sitting there for at least thirty minutes, you decided it was time to talk about it, you couldn’t endure the unknown anymore, you needed to know what would happen with your relationship.

Once again you held the plastic card against the door and the red light turned green, you opened it and were welcomed with a big bouquet of flowers. You walked further into the room but couldn’t find Lando, instead, you saw two bigger boxes sitting on the bed next to a piece of paper, you sat down and read.

’My dear angel,

I‘m sorry I hurt you, it never was my intention to do so. I know being drunk isn’t an accuse of actions and I’m not saying that anymore, what I did was stupid, you’re not a bitch, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I am so glad I met you that day, because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be nearly as happy as I am. You pleasure me just perfectly, I don’t think that there was a day in these five years where I wasn’t ready to fuck you, by just looking at you. Yes, even in your sweats and with your bun on top of your head.

If I could turn back time, I would. My behavior was unacceptable, and it’ll never happen again, I promise. I love how you cared for me, and kept on trying to give me water, and rubbing my back while I was puking all over the toilet, that’s true love.

I‘m giving you space, take as much time as you need, I’ll wait. If you want to go home, just text me and I’ll book the next available flight home, whether it’s Monaco or your actual home, you won’t even see me, if you don’t want to. But if you’re able to give me another chance, in the two boxes next to you, are things I know you wanted for some time now. I‘m not trying to buy my way back to you, just know I did this to show that I care about you. I have made a reservation in the restaurant you desperately wanted to go to, but it was all booked out. Being a driver comes in handy I guess. I‘ll wait for you. The reservation is at 8:00 pm, don’t feel the need to come, it’s fine if you need more time, I can’t blame you, it’s all my fault.

I‘m sorry, I love you.

Yours.‘

He could be actually really sweet. You dropped the letter on the bed and got up to face the boxes, you first opened the smaller one, in there were your favorite shoes, in that color you wanted. You‘ve been in Lando’s ears for months, that you want to buy them, but you were too stingy. You turned them around in your hands and admired them, they were beautiful. A small smile fell over your face.

Next, you opened the bigger box and pulled the material out, that was wrapped in satin paper. It was a designer dress that you loved, you saw it some time ago when you were window shopping with Lando and you couldn’t get it out of your head. The price was way too much tho, and you forbid Lando to buy it for you, I guess he didn’t listen. You looked back to the flowers and admired them as well, he did go all out. The anger was still there and you were ready to have a screaming match with him, but you felt a little better, the walk also helped clearing your head.

The time on your phone showed you, that it was already 6:32 pm. You thought about just leaving and taking the space you needed, but you couldn’t dump him in this expensive ass restaurant. You were angry, but not cruel.

So you put on your makeup, doing your hair and lastly you put on the dress, it fitted you like a glove, it better does, it costs way too much money for the amount of fabric that goes into it. You looked at your new sneakers, but you couldn’t wear them to this expensive ass dress, so you went with your normal heels. Seeing it was already 8:02 pm, and you had only now left the room, you were going to be late. But he deserved it, you were going to meet him, but you could be a little late. He was definitely sweating already because you weren’t there yet.

You took a taxi to bring you to the restaurant and because of the Grand Prix, the streets were closed and it took longer than normal to get there. Now it was 8:19 pm and you only got to the outside of the building. The elevator was taking you up to the last floor and the waitress waiting at the front desk was welcoming you with a smile. She brought you to the table where Lando was sitting, when he saw you, his eyes lit up and he stood up to greet you. He gave you a kiss on your cheek and you both sat down.

”I‘m glad you came.“

”I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.“

”Oh.“

”What Oh? Lando please,“ you tried to keep your voice calm, so others wouldn’t shift their attention to you, ”You said things that clearly upset me, you can be happy that I’m here. I don’t think a lot of people would do that.“

”I‘m sorry, I didn’t think yo-“

”You didn’t think, seems like you’re not doing that a lot lately.“

Before Lando could answer, a waiter came to you and you ordered your drinks.

”I‘m really sorry, you have to believe me. My behavior wasn’t okay, and it won’t happen again. I promise.“

You said nothing and kept quiet, you didn’t want to forgive him already, he should feel the pain you felt.

”Thank you for the clothes,“ came out of your mouth after you got your drinks and ordered your food. You may be mad, but he still paid hella money for the things.

”You only deserve the best, you know that.“

You nodded. The silence was loud and both of you didn’t know what to say, that never had happened before, normally you always have something to talk about.

”Baby, what do I need to do, that you forgive me? I‘m really sorry. I‘ll do whatever.“

You grabbed his hand that laid on the table.

”I need time, I won’t leave, but I can’t jump back into how we were before the party. Just give me time and you need time to reflect on everything too. Just because I’m staying doesn’t mean it’s fine, neither am I. I love you so much, but you hurt me big time, you humiliated me in front of our friends and tabloids. I need you to be a good boyfriend.“

”I‘m so sorry, it never was my intention to hurt you, nor publicly. I hate myself for letting this get out of hand, I don’t know why I was acting that way, I just know that it’ll never happen again. You have to trust me with that.“

He squeezed your hand and looked at you, you could clearly see how sorry he was. He was embarrassed and you could feel it, he was acting all shy and didn’t really know what to do, he'd never been like that before.

Your food came and it was enjoyed in mostly silence, a few comments about the food or view you had up here, were made, but you both were stuck in your own mind.

The walk to the hotel was silent as well, you were walking next to each other but without touching, it was awful. It has never been that stiff between you two, so when you stood in the elevator that brought you up to your floor, you couldn’t endure this feeling anymore. You hugged and squeezed him tight.

”I love you, okay? We‘ll work it through and we‘ll be okay, don’t worry.“

You looked up at him and pressed your lips to his, he was melting down in your touch and finally relaxing a bit.

”But you also said something else while you were drunk.“

Lando feared the worst.

”You want to propose?“

taglist: @millinorrizz

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #landonorrisbirthday #formula 1

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maxsimagination · 30 days ago

Text

better boyfriend - c.clark

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: yn is definitely straight…

-> !! cheating, kissing, implied smut !!

-> i’m back.. kind of

𖦹 masterlist

I HAD APPROXIMATELY four hours to get my last assignment of the semester done.

had i started the essay at all? nope.

was i making up the entire thing? yup.

good thing it was only my elective, plus the professor liked me. i was sat at my desk, procrastinating and staring at the screen, willing words to come to my brain.

eventually, i was furiously typing away, suddenly acutely aware of the minutes ticking down. the four hours seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, because now i was saving and submitting my entirely half-assed essay and praying that i had sweet talked my professor enough to get a passing grade.

in celebration, i grabbed my phone, flopped on my bed, and checked all my messages. i had four from cait, ten from the hawkeyes chat and only one from ben, my boyfriend.

“u should come over.”

i scrunched my face at the short text, not liking the way it made me feel.

“i can’t, i have practice tn.”

i typed the message and sent it. within a second, he was typing back.

“just skip, i wanna see u.”

“i can’t skip practice ben. we have finals next week.”

surely he knew this. although at this point i wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. he’s been distant the last month, only talking at night or when he sees me in class, and not paying attention to me at all.

“who cares, it’s just girls with a ball.”

i started typing out an angry message telling him that it was more that. girls with a ball, when he called me. i picked it up and answered curtly.

“what?”

you could clearly hear the irritation in my voice.

“woah, calm down princess. that time of the month or something?”

it took all my strength not to yell at him.

“don’t be a dick. what do you want?”

“just want my girl to come see me tonight. wanna see your cute little ass again.”

his voice made me want to gag. he was trying to hard to be ‘cool.’

“i’m not going to come see you, i’m going to practice.”

“aw, babe. c’mon. you would choose your silly little sport over your own boyfriend?”

he was pushing my limits, and i was about to snap. tears started to pool in my eyes and i willed them back, but the fact my own boyfriend would treat me like this, like a piece of meat.

“yes, i would. and if you actually knew me, or cared about me, you would know it’s more than just a silly little sport.”

i hung up the phone and all the tears came flowing out. this was a long time coming, and i knew he was a piece of shit before this, but i could never bring myself to break up with him.

as i lay on my bed for a bit, i felt lonelier than ever. i just needed a hug. so i did the one thing i knew to do.

i called cait.

she picked up on the first ring, “hey yn, what’s up?”

“can you come over?”

my voice was quieter, slightly wavering from the crying i’d done. cait didn’t hesitate, telling me she’d be right there and hung up.

it was barely five minutes before there was a knock at the door, and cait walked in.

“what’s wrong? who made you cry?”

she questioned me as soon as she saw my tear-stained cheeks. sitting next to me on my bed, she pulled my closer to her until i was sitting on her lap, straddling her waist.

“ben. he doesn’t care about me and only wants me when it’s good for him.”

my voice was muffled through caitlin’s shoulder but she understood what i was trying to say. her hands started drawing patterns on my back while she held me, calming me.

“love, i told you he was no good.”

her words were soft, reminding me that, yet again, i’d chosen a bad apple. i didn’t have anything to respond with so i left her words hanging with a grumble.

then cait leaned down so her mouth was next to my ear.

“i could be a be a better boyfriend than him”

my body stilled, as her hands still held me close. i knew what she was saying was wrong but i couldn’t help but feel a bolt of adrenaline rush to my core.

“you think?”

i was teasing her for sure, raising my head to look her directly in the eye. she stared right back with that smirk of hers.

“i know.”

i grin, leaning closer, not quite close enough to touch but close enough for her to want to.

“kiss me, cait.”

i broke the silence again, daring cait to step over the line of friendship we’d drawn all those years ago.

her lips were soft, but she kissed hard. passionately. intensely. like she wanted to take you right then and there. i wasn’t objecting, almost moaning at her lips alone.

i moved my hands down to her waist, gripping it tighter and moving my hips forward against her.

“pretty girl, if you do that again i might have to take you right here, right now.”

the fire in her eyes conveyed that she wasn’t playing. part of me wanted to do it again and get just that, but this was a new step for both of us and we hadn’t talked about the feelings side of things just yet.

“maybe i will.”

i still wanted to tease her though.

cait kept kissing me and i kept kissing her back, until we had to break apart again for air. she moved her lips down to my neck, littering little pecks everywhere.

“you should just get rid of him.”

cait spoke in between pressing kisses all over my neck and whatever exposed skin she could find, as her hands roamed with free will. i hummed, finding it hard to focus on anything but her touch.

“i will.

but he can wait until i get my fill of my girl.”

#wbb #iowa hawkeyes #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader

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kaivenom · 2 months ago

Note

I have a funny idea! One piece Dilfs with a reader with tinnitus! Like mine can be so bad I can’t hear much because the noise for like 10 minutes. But , the dilfs don’t know the reader has tinnitus so they just think the readers giving them the cold shoulder ignoring them and looking slightly pissed off

Btw if you didn’t know tinnitus is just where you get the ringing noise in your ear a lot basically

OP Dilfs with a reader who has tinnitus

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

Warnings: a little bit allusions of sex, but almost invisible.

A/N: this in fact, is a really curious request, i've never heard of this issue. Thanks for explain it to me, i really appreciate it. I hope you do good.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He decides to give you space, maybe a little too much space.

He doesn't know what he did to upset you but surely there was something.

He tried to get your attention a couple of times, but got no answer from your part so instead of making it worse, he decided to step aside.

He decided to not sleep on your shared room that night.

For your part, you were completely oblivious about his attempts of catching your attention, and then you didn't saw him in all afternoon.

Then, he didn't come to your bed at night, and you started to feel really sad.

First the tinnitus attack and now this, your day couldn't be worse.

You cried a little in bed, hoping that tomorrow was better.

THe next day, you found him, finally.

"Why didn't you come to bed yesterday?"

"Now you talk to me?"

"What i did wrong i..." and then you thought.

"You ignored me yesterday whne i talked to you, i believed that you were angry so i stepped aside."

"I am sorry, i didn't planed on ignoring you... sometimes i just heard noise from nowhere, i supose you talked me thru that."

"That's why you also had that angry face?"

"Yes..." you looked defeated.

Mihawk went to your side and hugged you, promising on reading the signs better next time.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He takes it as a personal offense.

Expect him to start doing macabre plans just to do your attention.

Yell, be cruel, call you names, follow you... even torture someone in front of you, every thing he could think that would make you so much that you pay attention to him.

And still, you don't look at him and go on your day like he isn't there.

Then he got to his limit and decided to cross the line he swore he wouldn't do, he pushed you onto the corridor.

"What the .... why did you do that?" you felt betrayed.

"What is wrong with YOU, you hadn't paid attention to me on a fucking hour."

"You talked to me?"

"Of course i..."

And then the ring increased so much for a moment that you had to cover your ears, then it stoped.

"What..."

"Sometimes my ears go crazy and i only hear noise."

"Good point, the next time i will just touch your shoulder."

"Doffy, what have you done..." he smiled and you feared the worse.

Sr. Crocodile

He is always a very cautious, calm and presentable man, but...

When he has been calling you for half an hour and you don't answer the den den mushi he starts to be suspicious.

He calls your again a couple of times and thinks: you said you were going to be at home all day cause you weren't feeling really good, and he didnt do anything wrong.

He gets home earlier, with many gifts to try and compensate any posible mistake.

When you didn't come to welcome him he stars to panic a little more.

Calls your name thru the house and nothing.

Then, he finally found you, laying the couch and reading.

"Oi, why don't you answer the calls." you dont look at him.

The previous worry starts to become angryness, how can you be so calm when he was having a heart attack all day?

He grabs the collar of your shirt and you finally aknowledge his presence.

He pulls you pu, much to your surprise, and kisses you angrily.

Not that you are going to complain but was for free.

"Don't you ever ignore me again, or i am going to punish you."

"I can't hear you, my hears are beeping"

And you had to explain him, while he was with the most amazed look ever.

Smoker

He always found weird that with your training and skills, you work on files.

There has been a couple of times when he comes to your desk to ask you for information and also talk to you, sometimes you have an episode, but short.

So he doesn't know.

Then, one day you are reorganizing some of the files on the archive, in a different section, one that has a grid.

So he tries to get your attention, but nothing, he asks, he raises his voice, he dings the doorbell and nothing.

You appear on his eye sight but still dont turn around to him.

He even thinks about going to get your superior to open the grid for him so he can go inside and aproach you.

He starts to get anxious and really nervous, until you finally go to the counter.

"Oh, hey, handsome..." your mood raises cause the noise finally stopped and he was there, the best combo.

"Don't tell me handsome, i've been calling you for five minutes, i saw you right in front of me... if you are mad for something then tell me. I won't tolerate that our mods get in our works."

You suddently felt really bad and explained to him all the thing. His expresion finally started to soften.

"So that's why you don't go into missions."

"Yeah," you hand him the files.

"Sorry, i will be more patient." he kisses you thru the counter.

Akagami Shanks

Another noisy one.

He thinks you are doing some kind of payback for a previous joke.

He starts doing an agressive-defensive kind of behaviour.

He ignores you and then he yells at you for your attention, he starts tossing you.

"What are you doing?"

"I am trying to get your attention cruel one, why aren't you paying attention to me?"

"What?" the beep on your ear gets worse, "I can't hear you, my ears are doing noises."

"Really?"

"What?"

Then he gets a paper sheet and starts writing. After explaining to him, he finally understood.

From that time, he got a little more patient and carefull when you have these episodes.

Instead of tossing or yelling at you, he starts kissing and hugging you.

He even tells you to do an especial sign for him when you are on public

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revelboo · 4 months ago

Note

hey. you know that one meme where planktons standing in front of a board giving a speech? something soemthign that next psa megatron makes but it gets hacked or whatever. in light of 'everything is alright's update <333 HJGDSKGMDSGDS--

Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him

Everything Is Alright Pt 101

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Say something. Anything. Feels you begin to tremble against him as you stare at Starscream and Soundwave curls an arm around you, anger simmering through him and growing with every moment of silence. Knows the Seeker views the world through a lens of how it affects him, but he also knows that you need Starscream to at least pretend to be glad about this. To say something and not just stare at you like that with no expression whatsoever.

• “You’re mistaken,” he rasps, dragging his optics away from the sight of you in Soundwave’s lap and those eyes he gets lost so easily in. A new cruelty, a new ploy to get a noose around his throat. Because sparking you is impossible. As impossible as bonding you and he’d seen how that had went. Servos flexing and spark aching when you make a soft sound. “You’re lying.” Denta bared, his servos curl under into fists, because it must be a lie. Dangling something he can’t have right in front of him. And he won’t fall for it, won’t be manipulated or tricked.

• “Star?” Voice small against the fury in his voice, you don’t resist when Soundwave’s servos shift against the back of your head, keeping you pressed close as his other arm curls around you. His hold protective. But Star’s not a threat. He’s just upset. Angry. Turning your head to see him, your words fall away. Because you’ve seen him look at you like that before when you’d first been taken, all cold calculation and it prickles through you. A whisper of uncertain fear even though you trust him. Love him.

• Curling himself around you as your emotions grow chaotic and needle into him, he wants to grab the Seeker by the neck and shake some sense into him. Because that empty lack of a reaction is hurting you and before he can separate you from him to make good on the impulse, the Seeker is mass displacing and walking away. Running away from dealing with what he’s done. He can’t possibly be that selfish. That cold, but Soundwave feels you press your face against his neck, shoulders shaking. “I’m here,” he says, catching your chin and tipping it up so he can brush his mouth against yours as you cry. “I’ll always be here.”

• Not running, but striding through the halls, wings drawn tight to his frame as panic claws at him. Just needing to get away. Escape, because it hurts. Transforming, thrusters screaming, barely aware of other Decepticons ducking out of his way as he flies through the halls. How own furious howls lost to the scream of his engines. Because this blow he wasn’t expecting, hadn’t even dared to entertain. Had let his defenses down and Soundwave had struck out to hurt him. Or at least he didn’t think he had wanted it, wanted a sparkling, but to use it to hurt him? Like a cruel joke?

• Denta bared as Megatron pushes away from the wall and his servos flex watching the fleeing Seeker, he’s tempted to fire at him in retaliation. But what’s sent Starscream running like that? Venting tiredly, he’s almost certain the answer will be you. A lover’s spat maybe? Amused now, he heads toward the Seeker’s quarters and lets himself in, fully intending to toy with you, see that anger of yours flare. And stopping short at finding you in Soundwave’s lap, making a noise of such pain that his own spark aches. “What did that idiot do?” He growls tiredly as Soundwave lifts his head, his old friend stiffening.

Nevermind about not opening the limited editions… gold Megs and Sounders to go with Star

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave #idw megatron

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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months ago

Text

A Gentle Touch

Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.

warnings: none that I can think of!

a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)

w/c: 2.3k

You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind.

Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours.

Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle.

“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him.

“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?”

Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?”

Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?

“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you.

“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched.

“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you.

Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”

“You were correct.” Foggy nodded.

“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly.

“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”

“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story.

“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.”

“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty.

“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”

“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces.

“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk.

“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted.

“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together.

“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly.

“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”

Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words.

You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse.

The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy.

The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end.

After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly.

Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.

Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.

A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right.

Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.”

He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it.

“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist.

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart.

“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”

“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.

“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.

“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”

Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”

He hummed in agreement, but said nothing.

“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.”

Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”

“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him.

He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.”

When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again.

“What?” You asked, slightly worried.

“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.

It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify.

Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall.

Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.

Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something.

“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern.

“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled.

One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ.

“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone.

“No.”

“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?”

Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness.

Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it.

Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip.

“Alright. Out with it.”

“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence.

Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked.

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.”

Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.

Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”

Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”

“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.”

Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”

“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away.

“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?”

“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @shouldbestudying41

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thatnonameuser · 2 months ago

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What would malleus/sebek/silver do if MC said they don't mind them, but Lilia makes them super uncomfortable? Let's break up a family 👐

So you know how some terminal momma’s boys are completely and utterly blind to whatever their spouses go through despite the fact that they are vocal about how clearly uncomfortable they feel because of how their in-laws treat them? And when they’re confronted with the Ultimatum of ‘it’s either them or me’ and It’s kind of like that.

Insert the dilemma.

First, Malleus would not take your ultimatum well…

Malleus loves Lilia and asking him to let go of his only remaining living parental figure, who might I add was the one of the two major triggers to his overblot, is going to send him into an emotional turmoil that’ll go over as well as a hurricane that rains fire.

He would do literally anything to make you love him in turn, nothing was impossible to him. But much to his This is impossible for him. Either he picks you and has to lose his father, or picks his father and has to lose his chance of having your love back. His horn could be chipped or completely intact, regardless the weather is going to be gloomy for a few weeks as he mulls over his decision.

He’ll try to argue some compromises. Compromises like ‘Lilia still travels for long periods, so you won’t have to deal with him everyday’, or ‘He’ll make sure that you don’t interact’ but as you refuse him more and more, sticking to your guns, he starts to feel very powerless because he can’t choose either of you.

Until he isn’t.

Let’s not forget Malleus is the fourth strongest mage in the world. That comes with the disadvantage for you of him being limited by only his imagination. If you won’t be happy with him if Lilia’s around, why not just get rid of that problem by, simply, erasing your discomfort from your memory?

Then he wins and has the best of both worlds, you and Lilia and no more of that unnecessary choice. Isn’t that great?

Silver’s a little worse off here, having to pick between the fae that raised him, who up until you he loved more than anything in the world; and you, the person he loves more than anything in the world and will continue to love more than anything in the world.

Obviously, he’s going to be upset. Not angry, just upset. Being forced to pick between his father and you is a choice he doesn’t want to make, because he loves you both and doesn’t want to lose either of you.

So insert common gaslighting technique called ✨Downplaying ✨

Listen, Silver is a green flag yandere that’s slowly turning into a red one. But if you put him in the middle of a war between having an unwilling you and his dad or having a willing you alone, he’d rather have both instead of one.

So instead of picking sides, he’s going to justify it by saying that it’s not as bad as you think it is. Lilia’s the one he went to about advice for wooing you, so whatever his father is doing that creeps you out Silver will justify that it’s just Lilia trying to help him show his love for you. He’ll make excuses for his father all day long if he has to, Silver’s not giving up either of you if he can help it.

Oh, and by the way, he’s going to tell Lilia about this. Expect that Lilia is going to be less hard on you, not just because Silver asked him to but your cooperation makes Silver happy, so he’ll give you that inch. Don’t try to take the mile.

Sebek isn’t upset, more outraged.

His utmost respect for Lilia makes him believe that he knows best, so the fact that you’re discomforted by his presence to the point where you don’t want to be around him is a sign of disrespect so blatant that he can’t stand it.

Strap in for a 2+ hour lecture about you should be honoured to be even his presence, because who do you think advised him on how to give you the love and respect (within the already too broad yandere boundaries but still) that you deserve.

Look, Sebek is aware of your discomfort. If it’s so bad that it’s something that’s going to threaten your relationship together then, he will separate you in a way you might not like.

That is him locking you in his dorm room, and not letting you out. You won’t be able to interact with Lilia if you can’t ever be in the same room as him. And while he’s going to hate doing it, he will bite his tongue and ask Lilia to stay out of his dorm just to make you happy.

Bonus~

Lilia thinks that your attempts at getting rid of him are amusing. He knew they were never going to work, they tell him about everything and when they’re too blinded by their love for you to actually take you for themselves he helps them with that too.

So obviously when they came to him for advice, or rather raving about how disrespectful you were being for Sebek, about how you were willing to be with them if he wasn’t around, he would of course give them whatever advice they’d need.

But for once, Lilia doesn’t feel as if this is something to punish you for. You’re young and since you don’t mind being around them if he’s not there, perhaps it’s just because you’re hoping for a different type of love to bloom. And what would be the point of all his efforts if he didn’t give you time alone for a garden to be seeded.

Of course, he’ll advise his boys as such and he could stand to travel again, to give you and whoever you were paired with the privacy you needed, but don’t expect him to never return. He wouldn’t mind returning to the sound of a newborn crying.

#ask #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandereverse au #yandere malleus draconia #yandere silver #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere twst x reader

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mintyys-blog · 16 days ago

Text

HEADCANON | mark variants with s/o who is like Mystic Flour Cookie

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: dark themes

Sinister Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s chaotic, loud, and unhinged—drawn to your quiet composure like a moth to a flame. You don’t flinch at his outbursts or threats, and it unnerves him more than it should.

• He’s used to fear or admiration. You offer neither. Your expression doesn’t change, even when he rips someone in half in front of you.

• “Why don’t you run?” he growls, covered in blood.

“Because none of this matters,” you respond softly. “They were burdened by desire. Now they’re free.”

• Eventually, he starts sparing people—because he wants to see if you’ll react. He wants to find your limit. Spoiler: you don’t have one.

• He both hates and craves the way you make him feel seen—like a divine mirror to his madness, reflecting nothing back.

Mohawk Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s cocky and rebellious, and you’re… emotionless. He’s confused, lowkey frustrated, but fascinated.

• He flirts with you constantly, but your answers are cryptic, spiritual, and bleak. “You look like you’ve seen death.”

“We are all dying. But you more quickly than others.”

• He calls you “Oracle” mockingly, but the more you speak, the more he realizes you know things you shouldn’t.

• Your belief in freeing others from suffering? He brushes it off at first… until you help him “enlighten” a corrupt hero by putting them into a vegetative state. You smile faintly for the first time. He doesn’t sleep that night.

• Eventually he wonders if you’re a prophet or just broken. He stops asking when he realizes he doesn’t care—he just wants to keep you close.

Viltrumite Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s a conqueror, trying to enforce order. You believe in letting go of all earthly struggle. You’re a paradox to him.

• “You could help me bring peace through control.”

“Peace isn’t something you hold. It’s what’s left when you let go.”

• You don’t flinch when he uses force. You don’t resist when he tries to intimidate you. In fact, your serenity feels stronger than his violence.

• You tell him that even Viltrumites are bound by ego and obsession—chains disguised as pride. He doesn’t want to hear it. He still listens.

• Over time, he doesn’t want to fight around you. Being near you makes him quieter, more introspective. He finds his rage slipping when you’re near. And it terrifies him.

Full Mask Mark x Mystic Reader

• He never removes his mask. You never remove your emotional veil. It becomes an unspoken bond.

• He can’t tell if you’re real or not at first—are you even alive? Are you some psychic echo? But your presence brings calm.

• He starts to see you like a ghost or deity, something beyond mortal suffering. You teach him how to be still in the silence.

• You never push him to unmask. You only ask, “Is the face beneath burdened by expectation?” That question echoes in his mind until he finally lets you see him—because you’re the only one who doesn’t want anything from him.

• He believes in your philosophy, little by little. He stops killing, not out of morality—but because you show him that letting go is stronger than control.

Maskless Mark x Mystic Reader

• The most “heroic” Mark—optimistic, hopeful. You’re the cold water to his fire. At first, he thinks he can change you.

• “You could save people, if you wanted to.”

“Saving is a cycle. End one struggle, another begins. The only escape is release.”

• He’s uncomfortable around you at first, like your presence forces him to see truths he’s not ready for. But he comes back. Again and again.

• Your philosophy challenges everything he believes, but you don’t argue. You just exist—and that makes him question more deeply than any villain could.

• Over time, he doesn’t try to make you smile anymore. He just sits with you in silence. And in those moments, he wonders if maybe… you’re not wrong.

Prisoner Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s caged, restrained, angry. You visit him—silent, watching, never judging. The guards don’t know why you’re allowed in. You never speak until he does.

• He throws rage and threats at you. You respond with chilling calm.

“You are still trying to fight the tide. Why?”

• You speak to him like he’s already free—just trapped by his own mind. You teach him apathy not as cruelty, but as transcendence.

• Slowly, he stops resisting. You unshackle him—not physically, but mentally. His rage fades. His confusion turns into obsession.

• He calls you “freedom.” You simply say: “I am nothing. And so are you.”

No Goggles Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s raw. Dangerous. Stripped of restraint. You are calm and unwavering, a strange light in his darkness.

• He’s used to being feared. You’re not afraid—you’re disappointed. Which is worse.

• “You’re suffering,” you tell him. “That’s why you still care enough to destroy.”

• You offer him no sympathy, only a philosophy: pain ends when you stop needing. He starts to listen, not because he agrees—but because your voice makes the storm in his head go quiet.

• Over time, you don’t tame him—you dissolve him. His violence loses purpose. His anger becomes weightless. It terrifies him.

• He doesn’t know if he loves or hates you. But he knows one thing: when you’re gone, the noise returns.

Shiesty Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s smooth, manipulative, always one step ahead—and deeply self-serving. You’re unreadable, immovable, and uninterested in gain. That throws him off immediately.

• He flirts to disarm people. You never respond. He lies for control. You always know. Your stillness feels like a riddle he can’t crack—and it infuriates him.

• “C’mon, you’re playing hard to get.”

“No. I’m simply not playing.”

• He keeps testing your limits—little illusions, staged scenarios, even guilt-tripping. Nothing works. You don’t judge him, but you don’t enable him either. You just observe.

• You once told him, “Even your tricks are shackles, Mark.” It stuck with him. Way more than he wants to admit.

• The more he tries to manipulate you, the more he starts to spiral inward. You become his obsession—not because you love him, but because you never needed him. And that terrifies him more than any enemy ever has.

Omni Mark x Mystic Reader

• He’s the final form—cosmic, godlike, above mortal affairs. Or so he thinks. Then you walk into his orbit, and you do not bow.

• Everyone else sees a god. You see a soul still burdened by desire and control. He thinks you’re beneath him… at first.

• “You’d live longer if you worshipped me.”

“Worship is the root of all suffering. Even gods are slaves to it.”

• Your apathy challenges his existence. You’re not impressed by his power, his form, or his vision. He becomes obsessed with making you feel something—fear, awe, anything.

• The more you speak in calm riddles about letting go, about shedding earthly attachments, the more he starts seeing the truth. And the more he resists it.

• But you never push. Never force. You just wait. And one day, in the silence of a dead galaxy, he admits; “I envy you.” You don’t smile. You just whisper, “I would too.”

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maddie0101 · 2 months ago

Text

the space between us

— based off of THIS request. I hope you like it nonny! ❤︎

summary: you’ve been spiraling for a while and bellamy’s done watching from the sidelines. but when a spacewalk goes wrong, buried truths come crashing to the surface, and neither of you can ignore it anymore.

warnings: kane!reader, set in between s4 & s5, takes place on the ring, feelings of emptiness, depression!, grief, jealousy, worried!bellamy, reader is self destructive, mentions of suicidal thoughts/tendancies, sad fic with happy ending, arguing, angry love confessions!, idiots in love, cussing, starts out pretty gloomy but emotions are all over the place for these two, I promise the end it worth it.

word count: 7.6k (someone plz stop me)

notes: please do not read if this will affect your mental health. reader and bell go from enemies -> best friends -> enemies ish -> lovers. I don’t want to give too much of it away before you guys read, but the reader is dealing with grief. if you ever need anyone to talk to please don’t hesitate to send me a message :)

Space is cold.

It burrows into your bones like ice, coils tight in your gut like a viper ready to strike, and anchors itself in your chest.

It’s not just sadness, it’s grief, thick and suffocating, pressing against your ribs, stealing the breath from your lungs. You wonder if this is what drowning feels like--Not in water, but in silence.

A vast, endless silence that stretches beyond the ring, beyond the stars, beyond anything you can escape. The weight of it crushes you, fills your veins like lead, until even the air around you feels too thin, too fragile, too empty to keep you afloat.

You don’t know how to live with this kind of emptiness. Every breath feels too heavy, like your lungs are filling with lead instead of air. Every step echoes too loudly in the hollow corridors, like the station itself is reminding you just how alone you really are.

You have friends here, sure. Bellamy, Raven, Monty, Harper, Murphy, Echo. But it doesn’t matter. Not really...because one of the people you loved most in this world is gone.

Clarke is gone.

And it hits you like a knife to the gut every single time.

There are moments, cruel small moments where you forget. Where your mind tricks you into believing she’s still here. That if you turn your head fast enough, you’ll see Clarke standing next to you, rolling her eyes at something you said, or giving you that soft, knowing look that meant she understood you better than anyone ever could.

Clarke Griffin had been a part of you for as long as you could remember.

You grew up together on the Ark, side by side through every scraped knee and whispered secret.

When you were kids, you used to sneak through the maintenance tunnels, daring each other to go further, to take more risks, to push the limits of the world you were trapped in. You swore that one day, you’d escape together, that somehow, you’d find a way to live beyond cold metal walls and recycled air.

But you never imagined that escape would come in the form of a drop ship crashing down to Earth, that survival would mean war and blood and impossible choices. But even then, through all the chaos, you had Clarke. She was your constant, your best friend, your family when the world refused to be kind.

And now she was gone.

You still catch yourself turning to look for her, expecting to find her standing beside you, arms crossed, expression unreadable as she weighed every decision like the world depended on it, because, most of the time, it did.

But there’s nothing there anymore, just empty space.

You remember the way she trusted you, even when no one else did. The way she argued with you, pushed you to be better, made you believe in things you never thought possible.

And now she’s just gone.

The grief is unbearable. It’s a sharp, endless ache that settles deep in your chest, suffocating and inescapable. It keeps you awake at night, staring at the ceiling of the Ark, wondering if she suffered, if she was afraid, if she thought of you in those final moments.

You hate that you left her behind. You hate that you listened when she told you to go, to save yourself. You hate that you couldn’t find a way to save her.

Because now, for the first time in your life, you have to face this world alone.

And you don’t know how.

You had Clarke, you had your dad, and you had Bellamy, but now you have nobody.

Your father had always been a pillar of strength in your life. Marcus Kane, the man who had raised you with steady hands and a quiet kind of love. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was there. Even when he was forced to be more of a leader than a father, even when his duty to the Ark overshadowed his duty to you, you always knew he cared. You saw it in the way he softened when he spoke to you, in the way his voice lost its usual edge when he said your name.

And now you have no idea if he’s even still alive.

The thought destroys you. He’s down there, somewhere, trapped in a bunker deep beneath the earth, buried under rock and rubble.

You don’t know if he’s okay.

You don’t know if he has food, if he has air, if he’s even still breathing. The last time you saw him, he was fighting, surviving, but that was six months ago.

And six months is a long time.

You tell yourself he’s fine. He’s your dad, after all. He’s always been stubborn, always found a way to make it through. But doubt creeps in, curling around your ribs.

What if something went wrong? What if the bunker collapsed? What if you never see him again?

You can’t even send a message. Can’t hear his voice. Can’t tell him that you’re okay, that you made it, that you’re still up here breathing while he’s buried underground.

And it fucking kills you.

The doubt eats at you and the not knowing is unbearable.

And now, Bellamy is all you have left. At least, you thought you had him.

The two of you didn’t start off as friends. Far from it. Bellamy was reckless, arrogant, and dead set on ruling the camp with his bullshit “Whatever the hell we want” mantra. You saw it as chaos, and you had enough of that in your life already. Clarke had been the only one thinking straight, and you backed her up every single time, standing beside her, arguing against Bellamy, calling him out on his idiotic choices.

And God, did that piss him off.

The two of you would go toe to toe, screaming in each other’s faces until your throats were raw. He was infuriating. Stubborn. Impossible. And yet, somewhere in the middle of all those heated fights, things shifted. One day, you just… stopped. Not because either of you won, but because the war between you was exhausting. You had bigger enemies than each other.

So, you called a truce. Agreed to be civil.

Somewhere along the way, civility turned into friendship. Then you became best friends.

Bellamy became the person you didn’t even realize you needed.

You’d stay up late, lying in the grass, staring at the stars, talking about everything and nothing. You’d argue, but this time, it wasn’t about power or control, it was about books, about history, about whether a hot meal was worth trading for extra rations. He had your back in every fight, through every nightmare, through every horror you endured on the ground and you had his.

It wasn’t even a question. Bellamy Blake was your person.

But the problem was, you were in love with him.

You don’t know when it started, not exactly. Maybe it was the way he shielded you with his own body when things went to hell. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he said your name, like you were something worth protecting. Maybe it was how he challenged you, how he saw you, how he could piss you off one second and make you laugh the next.

Or maybe you were just doomed from the start.

Bellamy was beautiful, always had been. That much, you could admit, but it infuriated you at first, watching him flirt, watching different women disappear into his tent for the night.

You told yourself you didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, but you hated it. Hated the way jealousy coiled hot and ugly inside you. Hated how you’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what it would be like to have him that way. To be the one he wanted.

But he never saw you like that. Not really.

Sure, he flirted sometimes, but Bellamy flirted with everyone. It was just who he was. And you weren’t about to fool yourself into thinking you were special.

And now, watching him grow closer to Echo, you know for sure you’ve lost him.

It’s different with her. It’s not just flirting. It’s not just meaningless glances or teasing smirks. It’s real. You see it in the way they talk, the way he looks at her, the way he lets her in and it breaks you. It shatters something deep in your chest, something you barely had a hold on to begin with.

Bellamy doesn’t talk to you the way he used to. Not anymore. Not like before, when the two of you would sit shoulder to shoulder, whispering in the dark, the silence of space stretching around you like your own little world. Not like before, when he’d seek you out first, when you’d catch him staring at you across the room, when he’d smirk at you like you were the only one who understood the joke.

Now, he’s with her.

Now, when you walk into a room, he’s already there—already talking to her and when he finally looks at you, it’s not the same.

He still cares, you know that. But there’s a distance now, something thick and unspoken between you and maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you pulled away first, maybe you built the wall between you before he even had the chance. But it doesn’t matter, because now it’s there, and it’s suffocating you.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That you don’t care. That you knew this would happen, that you always knew he’d move on, that he’d find someone else, that he’d never, never look at you the way you’ve spent years looking at him.

But it hurts. It hurts like nothing else ever has.

And maybe that’s the worst part—because you thought losing Clarke was the thing that would break you. You thought losing your father would be the thing to finally push you over the edge. But this...watching the one person you still have left slip through your fingers without even noticing—this is the thing that kills you.

First Clarke. Then your father. And now, him.

You have nothing left. Nothing but the void of space, the weight of grief, and a slow, suffocating sense that maybe, just maybe, you don’t even care if you make it through this anymore.

So you stop caring.

It’s not dramatic, not some grand, self-destructive decision. It’s quieter than that. A slow unraveling, thread by thread, until one day you wake up and realize you don’t give a shit what happens to you.

It starts small. Skipping meals because food supplies are limited and someone else needs it more. Telling yourself it’s noble, that it’s selfless, that it doesn’t matter if you eat or not. But the truth is, you just don’t care. You don’t feel hunger the way you used to, it’s dulled, just like everything else. The ache in your stomach is just another sensation you’ve learned to ignore, another part of you that feels hollow.

Staying up through the night, taking extra shifts because sleep is pointless. When you close your eyes, all you see is Clarke’s face, hear her voice like an echo trapped inside your skull. It’s easier to stay awake, to keep moving, to let exhaustion press down on you like a weight. The burn in your muscles, the heaviness in your limbs—it’s almost comforting.

Proof that you’re still here, still breathing. Still fighting, even if you don’t know why.

Volunteering for maintenance in the oxygen garden, even when the air is thick and stifling, clogging your lungs and making your head spin. You push through it, let the dizziness wash over you without stopping. The others take breaks, stepping outside to gulp in fresher air, but you stay. You work until your hands are raw, until sweat drips down your back and your vision blurs at the edges.

Until someone forces you to stop. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he Bellamy mutters when you pass him in the hallway, his eyes flicking over your tired frame.

You shrug. “Nothing else to do.”

His frown deepens, but you don’t give him the chance to say more, you just keep walking.

The next time, it’s when you skip another meal, pushing your tray away without touching it. Bellamy’s sitting across from you, arms crossed over his chest, watching. “You gonna eat, or just sit there and pretend you don’t need food like the rest of us?”

“Not hungry,” you say, just like before. Just like always.

“That’s bullshit.”

You glance up, meet his stare, feel the weight of it pressing down on you. You know he’s waiting for you to crack, to get mad, to argue back--but you don’t. You just stand up and walk away, leaving the untouched food behind.

But It keeps happening.

“Get some sleep, you look like hell.”

“You’re working yourself to death.”

“Do you even hear yourself anymore?”

Each time, you brush him off. A shrug, a muttered response, a look that dares him to push harder. But he doesn’t—not yet. Not fully. He just watches. Studies you. And you can feel it, the weight of his concern, the way it coils between you like a rope pulled too tight, ready to snap. It lingers in every glance, every clipped conversation, every moment you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow you across the room.

But you don’t stop.

You take the worst shifts, the ones no one wants, the ones that leave your hands shaking and your body aching. You push yourself harder, longer, testing your limits just to see if you still have any. The exhaustion, the hunger, the strain—it doesn’t matter.

None of it does.

The exhaustion barely registers anymore. You wear it like a second skin, let it settle into your bones, into the spaces grief hollowed out. Sleep is a distant memory, hunger nothing more than an afterthought. Your hands shake sometimes, but it doesn’t matter.

None of it fucking matters.

“We’ve got a problem.” Raven's words pull you back into the present, though barely. You stand near the console, arms crossed, waiting. It’s always something. Something breaking, something failing, something threatening to kill you all.

“What kind of problem?” Bellamy asks, stepping in beside Raven.

“External panel’s shot,” she says, frustration clear in her voice. “Coupling’s failing. If we don’t fix it, we’re looking at a full systems failure.”

It clicks instantly, an EVA. Someone has to go outside. “I’ll do it,” you say, stepping forward before anyone else can speak.

Bellamy reacts immediately, like he was waiting for you to pull this exact kind of shit. “No,” he snaps, eyes flashing. “Not happening.”

You don’t even look at him. “Raven can’t do it,” you say, voice cold, detached. “Her leg—”

“I can still—” Raven starts, but you cut her off.

“You can’t,” you say sharply, turning to her. “You know you can’t.”

Raven hesitates. She hates it, hates admitting that she has limits now, but she doesn’t argue. She knows you’re right.

“I was training to be a zero-g mechanic before I got arrested,” you continue, gaze flicking back to Bellamy. “That means I’m next in line.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he says, stepping closer, voice low and furious. “We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way.”

“You’re not going out there.”

You stare at him, jaw tightening. “Yes, I am.”

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s physically restraining himself from grabbing you, shaking some sense into you. His voice drops even lower, barely more than a growl. “You’re not doing this.”

But then Raven sighs, running a hand through her hair. “She’s right.”

Bellamy’s head snaps toward her. “Raven—”

“As much as I hate it,” Raven says, glaring at you like she wants to punch you for putting her in this position, “she’s the best option we’ve got.”

That should be the end of it, decision made. But Bellamy is still looking at you like you just threw yourself out the airlock. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, quieter now, but no less intense.

You hold his gaze. “Yeah. I do.” You mutter before you turn on your heel and walk away. No more arguing. No more justifying. You don’t look back, don’t slow down, don’t give Bellamy or Raven a chance to say anything else.

Bellamy stands there, frozen, watching you disappear down the corridor. His chest feels too tight, like all the oxygen’s been sucked from the ring.

“She’s not okay,” Raven mutters, breaking the silence.

Bellamy’s jaw clenches. “Yeah, no shit.” His voice is sharp, but it’s not aimed at her. He’s pissed at himself, pissed at you, pissed at the situation they’re stuck in.

“She’s been different,” Raven continues, arms crossed as she shakes her head. “Ever since we lost Clarke, ever since—” She stops herself, but they both know what she means. Ever since you started pulling away, throwing yourself into danger like it’s the only thing keeping you standing.

Bellamy exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve tried, Raven. I’ve tried talking to her, tried getting through to her, but she just—” He swallows hard, glancing down the hall like he could still catch a glimpse of you. “She shuts me out. Every damn time.”

Raven sighs. “You think I don’t know that? She’s been shutting everyone out. But Bellamy—she doesn’t care what happens to her.”

His stomach twists at the words. He knows it. He’s known it for a while, but hearing Raven say it out loud makes it feel too real.

“She’s not just being reckless,” Raven continues. “She’s self-destructing.”

Bellamy turns to her, eyes dark with frustration and something that looks dangerously close to fear. “And we’re just supposed to let her?”

Raven gives him a look. “You think I want this? You think I don’t hate it just as much as you do? But tell me—who else can do this job? I can’t.” She gestures to her leg, frustration flickering across her face. “And neither can anyone else up here. She’s the only one trained for it, Bellamy.”

He presses his lips into a thin line, his fists clenching at his sides. “That doesn’t mean we send her out there knowing she doesn’t give a shit if she comes back.”

Raven’s voice softens. “What other choice do we have?”

Bellamy doesn’t answer.

Because there isn’t one and that terrifies him.

The airlock chamber is cold and sterile. The hum of the machinery around you is the only sound, a dull buzz that fills the silence as you methodically strap yourself into the spacesuit. The motions are automatic, tightening the seals, adjusting the fit—your hands working without your mind fully registering what you’re doing. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing really does.

You barely hear the door open behind you, but you know it’s him before he even says a word.

Bellamy steps into the room, and for a second, he just watches you. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with something you don’t want to name. Concern. Worry. Fear?

You keep your focus on the straps, but then his hands are suddenly there too, brushing against yours as he starts helping.

You don’t stop him. His fingers tighten the fastenings at your shoulders, a little rougher than necessary, like he’s trying to ground you. Like he’s trying to keep you here.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, voice low but firm.

You do but you don’t say that. Instead, you just let him help, let him double-check every strap, every seal, even though you’ve already done it yourself.

You don’t argue, don’t pull away, because you know this is the only way he can feel like he has some control. He moves in front of you, adjusting the collar of the suit, his jaw tight, eyes dark. “Be careful.”

That’s when you finally look at him—really look at him. And whatever he sees in your face, it fucking destroys him.

His breath catches, just for a second, but you notice. His grip on your suit tightens, like he wants to shake you, wants to snap you out of whatever this is.

But he doesn’t, because he knows it won’t work, because all he sees in your eyes is emptiness.

Not determination, not even fear, just… nothing. And It scares the shit out of him.

You don’t say anything at first. You probably should, you know you should, but there’s nothing to say. So you settle on the only thing that feels appropriate. “Thanks,” you murmur, voice hollow.

His throat bobs as he swallows, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he just whispers, “Be careful,” like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing his goddamn mind. You meet his gaze for another second, but then you turn away, reaching for your helmet.

Bellamy should say something. He should stop you, pull you back, make you feel something, anything—other than this emptiness that’s swallowed you whole. But the words won’t come. They lodge in his throat, tangled up with the panic that’s clawing its way through his chest.

Because he knows that look in your eyes.

He’s seen it before—too many times. On the ground, in the war-torn faces of people who had lost everything. In Clarke’s eyes before she pulled that lever in Mount Weather. In his own reflection after too many bodies had piled up under his command. That look, the quiet, hollow resignation, is what people wear when they’ve already decided they have nothing left to lose.

And now it’s on you.

He watches, helpless, as you slide the helmet over your head, locking it into place with smooth, practiced movements. You don’t hesitate. Don’t fumble. You just…do it. Like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter.

And the airlock doors hiss, the warning lights flashing as the chamber begins to seal. Bellamy takes a step forward but then stops, fists clenching at his sides. He can’t stop this. Raven already made the call. And you—fuck, you’re too stubborn to listen to him even if he tried.

Still, his heart is pounding. His pulse roaring in his ears. Because as the final barrier closes between you, cutting off the sound of your breath, the shift of your movements, it hits him like a gut punch.

You’re out of his reach now and Bellamy can’t fucking breathe. It slams into him all at once, the fear, the helplessness, the realization that he might actually lose you.

Not in the way he’s been losing you these past few weeks, watching you slip further and further away, your laughter fading, your fire dimming. That was bad enough. But this? This is something worse.

This is real. This is now.

His hands twitch at his sides, useless. He should be in there with you, should be the one stepping into the vacuum of space instead. But he isn’t. He’s here, standing behind a reinforced door, watching as you drift further and further from him—physically, emotionally, completely.

And the fear claws at his throat, tightening with every second that passes. It’s the same fear that’s been gnawing at the edges of his mind for weeks, ever since he started noticing the way you were slipping. The way you stopped laughing. The way you stopped arguing with him—not because you agreed, but because you didn’t care. The way your eyes, once so full of fire and fight, had dulled into something hollow and distant.

He should’ve done more. Should’ve pushed harder. Should’ve made you talk to him instead of letting you shut him out. Because now? Now he’s fucking terrified.

Not just that something could go wrong out there, though that thought alone makes his stomach churn—but that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t fight it if it did.

Maybe you wouldn’t even try to come back.

The thought sends ice through his veins, and his breath comes sharp and uneven as he watches you through the glass, watches you moving with the same quiet detachment you’ve had for weeks, like nothing fucking matters.

Like you don’t matter. “Goddamn it,” he mutters under his breath, barely aware that he’s spoken.

Raven shifts beside him, arms crossed, eyes locked on the glass. “She’s gonna be fine, Bellamy,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual sharp confidence.

"I hope so." Bellamy mutters, praying for you to make it back safely.

The vast emptiness of space stretches around you, endless and dark, broken only by the cold metal of the ring and the distant glow of Earth below. You move slowly, using the safety tether to guide yourself along the outer structure of the Ring. The damaged panel is a few meters ahead, wires sparking faintly in the low gravity.

“Alright,” Raven’s voice crackles through the comms. “You need to secure yourself to the framework before you start. That panel’s loose, and the last thing we need is you floating off into the abyss.”

Bellamy tenses at the thought, but you just give a clipped, “Got it.”

Your movements are precise, practiced. You lock your tether to the nearest anchor point, then reach for your tools. The exposed wires are a tangled mess, some of them burned out, others frayed from whatever hit the station.

“Looks like a power relay took most of the damage,” you report. “I’ll need to reroute the flow before replacing the panel.”

“Copy that,” Raven says. “Take your time.”

Bellamy huffs out a breath. “Not too much time.”

You don’t respond, just keep working, fingers steady as you disconnect the ruined wires and begin patching in new ones. The silence stretches, except for the occasional instruction from Raven.

Bellamy watches, his gut twisting with every careful movement you make. You’re good at this—he knows that. You trained for it but that doesn’t stop the fear from gnawing at his insides.

Then, your hand slips. It’s small, barely even a mistake, but Bellamy sees it—the half-second where your grip falters, where your fingers hesitate before tightening again.

His heart slams into his ribs. “You good?” he asks, voice sharp.

“Yeah,” you say flatly. “Just adjusting.”

He doesn’t buy it. “Be careful,” he says, and it’s not a warning—it’s a plea.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, finally, you answer. “Yeah,” you say, voice quiet, detached. “I know.”

The first sign that something is wrong isn’t the alarm, it’s the way your body suddenly jerks backward. One second, you’re gripping the panel, fingers steady as you adjust a wire. The next, you’re yanked off balance, spinning weightlessly as your tether strains against the sudden force.

Then the alarm blares.

WARNING: OXYGEN LEAK DETECTED.

“Shit—shit!” Raven’s voice cuts through the comms. “Y/N, your suit—”

You barely register her words before your back collides with the ring. Hard. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, not that there’s much to lose in this vacuum. Pain explodes along your ribs, sharp and searing, but you barely react. You don’t have time. You reach for the emergency sealant on your suit, fingers fumbling as precious oxygen hisses out into the abyss.

And Bellamy’s voice slams into you next. “Y/N!” It’s not just fear you hear, it’s terror—raw and unfiltered.

You quickly find the breach. A tear along your left side, jagged and leaking life into the void. Your hands are shaking, but you manage to slap the sealant patch over the hole, pressing down until the hissing stops. Your oxygen stabilizes but barely.

“Leak’s patched,” you say, panting. “I’m good.”

“The hell you are!” Bellamy is livid. “Get back inside. Now.”

You don’t respond, completely choosing to ignore his demand. Instead, you reach for the wires again, forcing yourself to focus. You’re almost done. If you can just—

“Y/N, stop!” Raven snaps. “You just got thrown against the ring, you’re leaking oxygen, and—holy shit, are you hurt?”

You blink, trying to push past the dizziness clouding your vision. “I can still finish this.”

Bellamy curses under his breath. “Y/N, listen to me. Your suit is compromised. You could die out there.”

But that’s the thing, you don’t care, not really—so you keep working.

“Goddamn it,” Bellamy seethes. “Get back inside. Now.”

You don’t. You keep working, hands moving through the pain, through the weight pressing against your ribs. You can feel where the impact bruised you, where every breath pulls tight and sharp, but you push past it. You have to finish this.

“Y/N.” Bellamy’s voice is razor-edged, frantic. “I swear to God, if you don’t turn around and get your ass back inside—”

You ignore him.

“Y/N!”

His voice crackles through the speaker, raw and unrelenting, but you block it out.

“You’re being reckless—damn it, just listen to me!”

Still, you don’t stop.

“Raven, tell her—”

“She muted us,” Raven cuts in, voice hollow.

Bellamy stills. “What?”

“She—” Raven exhales sharply, glancing at the monitor. “She fucking muted us.”

Bellamy’s stomach drops. His hands curl into fists at his sides, useless, helpless. His breath is heavy, ragged, heart slamming against his ribs as he watches you continue—silent, cut off from him completely.

His jaw clenches. “Fuck.” He moves toward the airlock, every instinct screaming at him to do something, anything—but Raven grabs his arm, yanking him back. “You can’t go out there,” she says, voice tight. “She’s almost done.”

“She’s fucking hurt, Raven!”

“And she’s still the best shot we’ve got at fixing this,” Raven snaps. “She wouldn’t be out there otherwise.”

Bellamy shakes his head, hands gripping his hair. “She shouldn’t be out there at all.”

Raven doesn’t argue because she knows he’s right.

On the screen, you move quickly but your fingers are steady despite everything.

No hesitation, no fear, no regard for your own damn life.

Bellamy watches in agonizing silence, tension coiled so tightly in his chest he can barely breathe. His nails dig into his palms as each second drags by, as you move with a focus that terrifies him.

Then, finally—You push off the panel, securing the last wire in place. The system stabilizes and the warning lights shift, flickering back to green.

It’s done. You did it.

Bellamy exhales shakily. Relief floods through his chest first, sharp and fleeting. Then the anger, then the frustration and then the gut-wrenching fear that’s been clawing at him since the moment you stepped into that suit. And the second you unmute the comms, his voice slams into you like a freight train.

“Get. Back. Inside.”

It’s not a request. It’s not even an order. It’s a demand laced with fury, desperation, and something you can’t quite name.

And it immediately sends a shiver rolling down your spine.

The airlock decompresses with a deep hiss, the artificial gravity settling over you like a weight and your body protests immediately. Every muscle aches, along with the impact from earlier sending a sharp, radiating pain through your ribs. You wince, rolling your shoulders, but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

The doors slide open with a hiss and Bellamy is standing there, waiting—pissed.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw tight, and his eyes are dark with barely restrained fury. The second he sees you, his glare sharpens, cutting through the space between you like a blade.

You ignore it. Stepping past him, you reach for the clasps of your suit, peeling the thick layers away from your body. The adrenaline is wearing off now, leaving exhaustion and pain in its wake. But you keep moving, methodical and unbothered, until—

“What the fuck was that?” Bellamy’s voice is sharp and unrelenting.

You sigh, not bothering to look at him as you undo the chest plate. “Fixing the power relay.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t act like that was just another job. You nearly got yourself killed out there.”

“I didn’t.” You keep your tone flat, unphased, shoving the gloves off your hands.

“You muted me,” he growls. “You ignored every goddamn thing I was saying, and then—”

“Because I needed to focus.” You exhale sharply, finally looking at him. “And I fixed it, didn’t I?”

Bellamy stares at you like he doesn’t recognize you. His hands flex at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point, Bellamy?” you snap, yanking at the last layer of the suit, wincing slightly when it tugs at your ribs. “That I didn’t listen to you? That I didn’t crawl back the second you told me to?”

“The point,” he grits out, stepping closer, “is that you don’t care if you make it back at all.”

Something in your chest tightens but you ignore it.

Bellamy shakes his head, breath unsteady, hands trembling with the force of his anger, but beneath it, beneath all of it—is fear. Real, consuming, gut-wrenching fear.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is lower now, rougher. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” He gestures at you, his expression twisting. “Skipping meals, taking shifts no one else will, volunteering for every dangerous job that comes up—you think I don’t know what that means?”

Your throat feels tight, but you refuse to look away.

Bellamy swallows hard. “You want to burn yourself out, don’t you?”

There's nothing but silence. You hold his gaze, heart slamming against your bruised ribs. He searches your face, waiting—begging for a denial, but you don’t give him one. And that’s what breaks him the most.

You don’t speak—you don’t even look at him as a tear slips down your cheek, but you don’t wipe it away. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, of proving his words right. Instead, you finish peeling off the last of your spacesuit, ignoring the sting in your muscles, the ache in your ribs where you slammed into the ring.

The suit is heavier than it should be as you hang it back up. It feels like closing a door, like leaving something behind, and for a brief second, you wish you could step out of your own skin and leave yourself behind too.

Bellamy doesn’t move. He stands there, stiff, furious, seething in the kind of silence that feels like a countdown to something explosive. Still, you say nothing and turn, walking away.

But as your luck has it, he follows. “Hey.” His voice is sharp, like a blade drawn too fast. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You keep walking, ignoring his footsteps behind you.

“Y/N.”

Your fingers curl around your bedroom door, heart hammering, but before you can slam it shut, Bellamy’s hand shoves against it, stopping you with ease. You whip around, furious. “Get out.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he steps inside and then with a slow, deliberate motion, he turns and locks the door behind him.

Your pulse jumps. “What the hell are you doing?”

Bellamy’s chest rises and falls, his breath harsh, his whole body thrumming with barely contained frustration. “No, what the hell are you doing?” His voice is low, rough, shaking with something deeper than anger. “Because whatever this is, whatever the fuck you’ve been doing—it’s not survival, Y/N. It’s suicide.”

His words hit harder than they should. You swallow against the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t go away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bellamy lets out a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it, just disbelief, just pain. “The hell I don’t,” he snaps. “You throw yourself into danger every chance you get. You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You push yourself until you can barely stand, and you act like it doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Your hands clench into fists at your sides. “Why do you care?”

The question stuns him into silence for a second and then—“Are you serious?” Bellamy takes a step closer, voice rising, eyes dark with anger. “Are you actually asking me that?”

Your pulse pounds in your ears, breath coming fast. “Yeah, Bellamy. I am.”

His hands clench at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to grab you, to shake some goddamn sense into you. “How the hell can you even say that?” His voice cracks on the words, but it only fuels his frustration. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done for you—you think I don’t care?”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Really? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”

Bellamy’s nostrils flare. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” You take a step forward, closing the space between you, shoving your finger against his chest. “Because you sure don’t act like you care. You’re always with Echo, always making sure she’s okay, always talking to her—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bellamy growls, running a hand through his hair, pacing for a second before spinning back to you. “This isn’t about Echo!”

“Like hell it isn’t!” Your voice rises, shaking with anger, with exhaustion, with months of built-up resentment. “Ever since we got up here, it’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore! Like I could disappear tomorrow and you wouldn’t even notice!”

Bellamy’s face twists, his anger turning sharp. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is dangerously low now, like a storm rolling in. “You’re the one who shut me out, Y/N. You stopped talking to me. You’re the one who left me first.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your hands tremble at your sides, your chest rising and falling too fast, too erratic. “That’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” Bellamy shouts, voice raw now, ragged with emotion. “You pulled away from me, you buried yourself in every reckless job you could find, like you were just waiting for something to fucking kill you! And what was I supposed to do, huh? Stand there and watch?”

Your whole body is shaking now, rage and hurt battling for control. “You don’t get to act like this is my fault!”

“I don’t?” He lets out a hollow, furious laugh. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”

Your eyes burn. “I needed you, Bellamy,” you whisper, voice trembling, but there’s still fire behind it. “And you weren’t there.”

He stares at you like you just knocked the air from his lungs. “I wasn’t—” He shakes his head, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “That’s not fucking fair.”

You bark out another humorless laugh. “Fair? Fair? You want to talk about fair?” Your voice is almost hysterical now, the emotions clawing at your throat, ripping their way out. “I lost my dad. I lost Clarke. And now—” Your voice cracks, your breath catching, and you shake your head, like you can stop the truth from falling from your lips. But it’s too late. You swallow hard. “And now I’ve lost you too.”

Bellamy flinches, like the words physically hurt him. His jaw tightens, his chest rising and falling too fast. “You haven’t lost me,” he grits out, barely more than a whisper. “I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not,” you snap, voice breaking, hands trembling. “You haven’t been here in a long time.”

Bellamy shakes his head, his frustration boiling over again. “That’s not true.”

“Then why do I feel like it is?” Your voice cracks, the rawness slipping through, the vulnerability you’ve been trying so fucking hard to hold back.

Bellamy exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I—”

“Just forget it,” you mutter, turning away, chest heaving, because this is getting too close, too painful, and you can’t do this anymore.

But Bellamy won’t let it go. He moves closer, voice lowering but no less intense. “No. I’m not just gonna forget it. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t give a shit whether you live or die?” He lets out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

You snap your head back toward him, eyes blazing. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to think, Bellamy? You’ve barely even looked at me for months. Every time I turn around, you’re with her.”

Bellamy’s expression twists, his face turning red with frustration. “Because Echo was suicidal, Y/N! She was barely holding on, and I—I was just trying to keep her from jumping off the goddamn edge!”

You flinch at the words, at the way his voice cracks with them. For a second, just a second, the anger wavers but then it snaps back into place, because it still doesn’t change anything. You shake your head, eyes burning. “And what about me?”

Bellamy stills.

You swallow hard, voice breaking now. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was barely holding on too?”

The room goes silent. Bellamy’s breath stutters, his face paling.

You suck in a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill, but you push through it, force yourself to keep going. “You were so busy saving her, you didn’t even notice I was drowning too.”

His lips part, his throat working like he wants to say something—anything but nothing comes out.

Your hands curl into fists, your whole body trembling with too many emotions at once. And then, before you can stop yourself, before you can shove it back down where it’s been buried for so long—A sob rips from your throat.

Tears spill down your face, hot and unstoppable, and you hate it—hate that you’re falling apart in front of him, hate that he still has this power over you. But you can’t take it anymore. Not the distance, not the hurt, not the way his voice keeps cutting into you like a blade.

Bellamy’s face twists, something breaking in his expression as he watches you unravel. “Y/N—”

“No!” Your voice cracks, ragged and raw, and you shove at his chest, frustration and pain mixing into one. “I can’t do this anymore, Bellamy! I can’t—” You shake your head wildly, barely able to breathe through the sobs clawing their way out. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this. Like it doesn’t fucking kill me every time you look right through me.”

Bellamy flinches like you just struck him. “That’s not fair,” he snaps, but his voice is weaker now, desperate. “You left first—”

“Because I had to!” you shout, voice breaking. “Because I couldn’t stand being near you anymore! Not when you—” Your breath stutters, your chest heaving as your whole body shakes. “Not when you love her.”

Bellamy’s brows furrow, his frustration surging again. “Goddamn it, Y/N, stop it!” His voice is sharp, cutting, but there’s something fraying at the edges, something just as fragile as you are. “This isn’t about Echo!”

“Then what the hell is it about?” you cry, throwing your hands in the air. “Because all I know is that every time I look at you, I feel like I’m losing you all over again!”

His jaw clenches, his hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know whether to grab you or walk away. “You’re not losing me,” he grits out, voice hoarse.

“Yes, I am!” Your voice rises again, hysteria creeping into it. “I already have, Bellamy! And you know what?” You let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking your head, tears dripping from your chin. “It’s my own fucking fault.”

Bellamy’s breath stutters, his eyes searching yours, frantic now, desperate. “Y/N—”

“Because I fell in love with you!” The words burst out of you, torn straight from your chest, too loud, too raw, too fucking real.

The room goes deathly silent and Bellamy stills, his whole body locking up. His lips part, his throat working, but no words come.

The silence shatters something inside you. It’s worse than him yelling, worse than him fighting back. The nothingness stretches between you like a gaping wound, and you feel yourself bleeding out, piece by piece, breath by breath.

You let out a choked, humorless laugh, shaking your head as fresh tears burn down your cheeks. “Forget it,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Forget I said anything.”

You turn, reaching for the door, ready to escape, but then Bellamy moves—fast. Before you can take another step, his hands are on your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you there. His grip is firm, almost desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go and then he kisses you. Hard.

It’s not soft or careful. It’s raw, and feverish, like a dam breaking, like months, years of unspoken words and bottled-up feelings crashing down all at once. He pours everything into it, into you, and the moment his lips move against yours, a sob catches in your throat.

Your hands grasp at his jacket, fisting the fabric as your knees nearly give out. Bellamy groans against your lips, pressing closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you against him like he’s trying to mold your body to his.

The kiss is messy, desperate, almost too much and not enough all at once. It’s teeth and tongue and aching hunger, his breath mixing with yours, his heartbeat hammering against your own. You feel alive again, like every shattered piece of you is finally snapping back into place.

When you finally break apart, you’re both gasping, foreheads pressed together, hands still clinging to each other like lifelines.

Bellamy’s voice is hoarse, wrecked. “I love you.”

Your breath shudders out, and you blink up at him, eyes still glassy with tears. “You—you do?”

Bellamy lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it. “Of course I do,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his other hand still tangled in your hair. “I always have.”

Another sob rises in your throat, but this time, it’s not from heartbreak.

It’s relief. Overwhelming, breathtaking relief.

Bellamy presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, slower—like he’s memorizing you, like he never wants to stop.

And for the first time in a long time, neither of you have to run anymore.

author’s note:

hiii! I hope this one wasn’t too much of a downer 😅 probably one of the most deeply emotional works I’ve written. I know it started out v sad in the beginning but I like to describe how it makes the reader feel so that you guys know where y/n is coming from.

nonny, I hope this is what you were looking for? I know it’s not straight up enemies to lovers but I added a little twist. figured since the reader was clarke’s best friend and co leader of the 100 she and bellamy would’ve gotten along at one point.

anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed! If anyone wants to request anything please see the link below and read the rules before submitting :)

— requests are open.ᐟᅟ please read request rules.ᐟᅟ

tags:

@rubydacherry42 @chalametsangel @imsiriuslyreal (lmk if I’ve missed anyone)

If you would like to be tagged please fill out THIS form and I will add you to the list! ❤︎

my works

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drdemonprince · 5 months ago

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For the last eighteen years (the entirety of my adult life), I have never lived in a place longer than twenty-four months.

If you’re a renter, you know the deal: one apartment has leaks coming from the ceiling, thanks to a bathtub upstairs that the landlord never sealed up; in the next, you can hear skittering in the walls. I get a new job, so I have to head a mile south to find a commute that is tolerable. The relatively affordable one-bedroom on the corner where the ambulances are always blaring gets bought out, so the rent shoots from $900 to $1200 per month. Over and over the leaf blower of economic progress has expelled the flimsy debris of my life from the corners where it has settled.

There were less prosaic reasons for the many moves, too, like the 55-year-old roommate who would bang on my door at six in the morning accusing me of sampling her milk and let her dog shit on my rug. Or the boyfriend who stalked me after we broke up in graduate school, who would sit in the parking lot outside my window curled up into an angry, devastated ball, shrieking and crying until somebody came out the back exit and he could rush in to get me. I left the rug behind when I moved, because it had gotten stained. And when I escaped from the boyfriend, I left behind all the books from graduate school that reminded me of him, too.

As a renter (especially one with a limited income) you never have any control over your surroundings. Where you live, how much space you have, what pests reside there, what works in the building and what doesn’t, how things get fixed, if things get fixed — it’s all determined by market forces and landlord whims. Nothing is permanent, and everything is uncomfortable, so you learn to keep your life light and ready to be picked up and dashed away with at the first sign of trouble.

I never really learned to settle down into a place and let my weight expand gently all over it. It was better not to count on anything. Every time that I moved, I culled my possessions: the vintage exercise bike that I brought with me from Ohio got left behind when I darted from a depressing, windowless spot in Roger’s Park to a tiny studio in Lakeview. When the studio in Lakeview had cockroaches crawling up the bathtub drain, I found a dupe of a subletter and left behind my desk and half my kitchen items, and used a $40 folding table from Aldi as my counter, dining room table, and workstation for the next five years.

That’s one thing that people don’t talk about, when they complain about landlords: how much disregard for your surroundings that renting breeds in you. It’s not only that the owner of your building never cleans the pipes. It’s also that you have no reason to feel invested in the pipes’ long-term functioning, and every reason to feel bitter about the thousands of dollars you’re already wasting on a broken building each year.

And so you buy the Drain-o, even knowing it does damage. You don’t invest in a hair trap, because it shouldn’t be your job. Maybe you even flush kitty litter down the toilet, as one neighbor of mine did, because why the fuck shouldn’t you? It almost feels like revenge to wreck a place that was never yours, even though the only people who will suffer the consequences are the poor broke renters who come after you.

There is no gratitude, no sense of continuity — only a steady march of expenses and breakdowns that never stop, until you’re kicked back on the street again.

But this June, after almost twenty years and fifteen moves across various apartments and sublets, I have finally arrived at a place where I might be able to stay a long time. I’m no longer paying a landlord’s bills with my wages. I have become, as Eula Biss puts it, the husband of a space. This home is my duty to protect, to build up into something that might last for me and everyone else who passes through it.

Suddenly I can see the consequences of my actions: A stick of incense left burning on the bathroom counter leaves three small, orange marks I have to buff out with a scrubbing sponge and a layer of Barkeeper’s Friend. When I ignore a leak from the hot water spigot that runs over the side of the tub, the liner swells up with moisture and has to be cut out and replaced. Life is no longer lived in pay periods, but in years. Unattended problems only get worse over time, and everything is riding on me.

I wrote about making a home, adopting a cat, and learning to let my life have weight. You can read the full essay for free (or have it narrated to you by the Substack app) at drdevonprice.substack.com

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ariasakka · 7 months ago

Text

ANGRY SEX WITH NANAMI 18+

Someone posted saying they wanted an angry Nanami sex story so I wrote one! Thank you for inspiring me to write this story I’ve been needing more angry sex Nanami stories so why not write one myself 🙏

Warnings

18+, MDNI, female reader, spanking, smut, punishment, taboo, anal, dark agressive dom Nanami

All Nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

He’s usually not aggressive often but sometimes he has to punish you for being a brat. 2k words.

Not a writer just write for fun please don’t expect this to be perfect or the most grammatically correct! Please don’t read or continue to read if any of the themes in this story are upsetting to you. Thank you. <3

* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。*

You’ve been in a bratty mood lately. Probably because your man has been working overtime so you haven’t even able to see him as often as usual. You’ve been teasing Nanami all week. Sending him naughty pictures at work. Talking back to him more than usual. Sending him videos of you touching yourself without him with the text “thinking of you” while wearing his t shirts. Going to bed wearing nothing having him come home late at night to see you sleeping looking like a goddess but not being able to do anything about it. Nanami is trying to stay calm and collected at your teasing but his patience is slowly slipping.

Today you decide to show up at Nanami’s work bringing him the lunch he had forgotten this morning. You show up in a black mini skirt, fishnets, a black long sleeve v line shirt, with some heels Kento had gotten you for your anniversary some time ago. Nanami was an absolute sucker for skirts and fishnets and basically any item of clothing that he had bought you. You walked in greeting him with a smile with the lunch bag in hand. Nanami’s heart practically stopped the second he saw you walk in looking so sexy. He couldn’t understand why you’d been such a brat and a tease lately. He had been waking up early to make love with you in the shower and still managing to do his house work duties so why were you acting like this? Little did he know you just wanted to get under his skin. You liked his dark side but didn’t want to admit it to him.

Kento

“Hi my love, thank you for going through the trouble to bring me my lunch. I’m sorry I forgot it. You look beautiful today.”

You

“Yeah yeah, I dunno how you could’ve forgotten your lunch today Kento. I always look good.”

Kento

“My love why are you being such a brat lately?”

You

“Mmm cause I can love. Do you mind?”

You lock Nanami’s office door and walk towards him seductively. You get down on your knees under his desk and start to toy at his waistline. The two of you had never done anything at his work before. You were feeling naughty today. You can feel his erection growing at the sight of you. You can feel his eyes on your chest. Your breasts are practically spilling out of your low cut top in this position.

Kento says sternly

“Darling I’m at work.”

You

“Okay and I want you now baby.”

Kento

“You’re pushing my buttons lately. I made you cum three times this morning was that not enough? You send me pictures everyday to tease me and now this?”

You smirk ignoring his words. You undo his pants pulling them down just enough for his cock to pop out. You quickly sink your throat down onto him. He grips your hair and hisses harshly at you.

Kento

“You know what. Fine. I’ll fuck your throat but I’m going to make you regret this later. No more nice Nanami. Got it my love.”

You chuckle softly not thinking he’s at his limit yet. Oh were you so wrong. He grabs your hair harshly and pushes you all the way down on his length suffocating you with his thickness. He pushes his hips up and down with determination. He knows if he’s going to do this at work he has to cum fast in worry of getting caught. You don’t mind, you love it when he’s rough with you. It’s a side you don’t get to see often.

Nanami cums in your mouth within 10 minutes. You struggle to swallow all his seed with half of it overflowing spilling out the sides of your mouth. Nanami looks down at you with dark eyes and speaks with a dark sultry tone. Kento grips your hair tighter and demands you clean all of it up off of him. You do as he wishes.

Kento

“I’m getting off early. Maybe when I’m done with you you’ll learn to behave for me. Going to punish all the brattiness out of you sweetie.”

You

“Oh Ken you’re so cute when-“

Kento

“No. Say yes sir. Don’t say anything else. No more talking back.”

You

“Yes sir..”

Kento

“Now my love. Go home. Change into my shirt and greet me on your knees when I come home.”

You

“Ken-“

Kento

“Ah! I’m adding an extra punishment for you talking back after I told you not to. Go home my love.”

You

“Yes sir.”

You get up off your knees and exit his office going back to his house. You wanted to push his buttons but you’d never seen him this aggressive and dark before. You’d be lying if you told yourself it didn’t make your hole clench around nothing craving him. Maybe he was pushed past his limits. Usually you don’t tease him and be bratty for weeks on end. His dark side is exciting. You’re hoping he actually will ruin you back to submission like he promised.

Later when Nanami starts to unlock the door you rush towards it getting on your knees ready to greet him. Nanami looks down at you, a soft smile forms on his face, there’s still a darkness to his eyes though. He pats your head to show he’s happy you at least listened to him once today.

Kento

“Hi my love. I see you’ve decided to be a good girl for once?”

You nod

“Yes sir.”

Kento

“Don’t be fooled though love…daddy’s still not done with you. You’ve been pushing my buttons too much these last few weeks I’ve had enough. Come here.”

You follow him over to the couch. He sits down and pats his knee instructing for you to get over it. You do as he asks.

Kento

“Tsk tsk..how many times have you been bad this week darling? I think that’s how many spankings you deserve.”

You

“I- I’m sorry I don’t know how many times Kento.”

*smack* he brings his hands down to your bottom harshly.

Kento

“You didn’t address me correctly.”

You

“Sorry sir. I don’t know how many times I was bad sir.”

Kento massages the red skin gently for a moment before speaking

“Let’s just say you were bad 28 times. I think that’s a fair amount of spankings. After all I’m sure you were bad much more than that. But I can’t break you with just spankings that’s not all I have in store for you tonight love.”

You

“Yes sir whatever you think is best I’ll take.”

Kento

“Count for me darling.”

Kento continues to spank you 28 times as you count each painfully hard slap. By the end of it you’re almost in tears. You thank him for spanking you as he asks. He really wasn’t lying when he said he would make you behave. How you feel right now so powerless and dominated. It makes you never want to be a brat to your loving boyfriend ever again.

Kento

“Good girl. You took that so well for me but I don’t believe you’re truly finished being a brat yet.”

Nanami pulls your hair forcing you off of him. He rips off his shirt that you’re wearing leaving you completely naked under him now. He bends you over the arm rest on the couch. Nanami starts to undo his pants. You feel a harsh slap with his belt before you can feel the hot tip of his cock pressing at your entrance. You’re soaked. He slipped in so easily. He started to pound you pushing you down on the armrest harder and harder. You moaned louder at each thrust. You can’t believe how turned on you could get from so much pain. Or maybe it was just because you liked him being dominate and aggressive with you.

Out from the drawer next to the couch he pulls out a butt plug. He bought this the last time you were bratty. He’s been saving it for a time when you were naughty again and needed to be punished. He saw last time you were a brat that spankings clearly aren’t enough you get too turned on by them. He needed something a little more taboo.

Kento smiles darkly and says

“My love. I don’t think spankings are enough for as big of a brat as you. I have something else for you my love.”

He slows down his thrusts and places him thumb at the entrance of your asshole teasing you ever so slightly.

Kento

“You’ve never had something in this hole before have you?”

You

“…no..n-no sir I haven’t. Please Ken it won’t fit.”

Kento pushes the butt plug into you slowly. Devilishly watching as your tight hole accommodates to the size. Rolling his eyes back biting his lip at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his cock the deeper the butt plug goes. Once it’s all the way in he resumes to thrust into you harshly.

Kento

“How does it feel my love?”

You

“It hurts sir-“

Kento

“Good. Now maybe you’ll learn not to be such a brat. You’re lucky I’m not cutting down your allowance aswell.”

Kento removes his tie and wraps it around your wrists tying them behind your back. He wants you to feel everything. He’d be lying to himself if he said this didn’t feel good. He loved letting off steam and fucking you like this. Usually he’s so gentle with you because he’s afraid to hurt you. When your bratty he gets to fuck you how he wants not worrying if it hurts you because honestly if it does it’s just part of your punishment.

After an hour or so. He finally finishes spilling his second load of the day inside you. Growling louder than ever before as he spills into you. At this point you’re fucked out of your mind. You’ve came at least 3 times on him.

He slowly removes the plug and himself before cleaning you up with a warm towel. Nanami starts to run a bath for the both of you putting all of your favorite scents and soap inside. You definitely deserved the punishment but he wants to spoil you after for doing so good at taking it. He grabs you in his arms taking you into the nice bubble bath with him.

Kento

“You look so beautiful my love. Will you be good now?”

You

“Yes Nanami. I promise. I love you so much.”

Kento

“Good, I love you more.”

Nanami places a soft kiss on the top of your head. He pulls you in close cuddling you in the tub. Now that you’ll be good he’s ready to spoil you with love and affection once more.

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