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joontroverted · 6 months

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of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

#nanami x reader #nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #yves tells you a story ✩🕯₊˚.📖⋆🌙⋆⁺₊✧

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helluvapoison · 8 months

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Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #vox headcanons #vox x reader #vox imagine #velvette imagine #velvette headanons #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #valentino imagine #valentino headcanon #help i’m actually falling for val

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majinbangus · 1 month

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I literally just wanted a sugar daddy/mama!au. Maybe I'll talk about sugar daddies!141 x sugar baby!reader after this. I am not an expert in sugaring, so bear w me here. readers age is not told either, but i imagine reader to be younger than price.

Times are tough; the 141 need funding the government isn't willing to cough up. Price's solution? Getting them a sugar mama.

You never expected your profile to be picked. It was a silly thing you signed up for in a moment of weakness when you were feeling sad and lonely, wallowing after a messy break up. You even forgot about it after a week, throwing yourself in your self-made business, working when you didn't have to, but you needed to bury yourself in it. It's no surprise you forgot all about your little profile, but it is a surprise when you see a missed inquiry from a Mr. John Price about a day old.

Hello, darling. I've never been on this side of the message before, but my boys and I don't have many options, and I needed a solution fast. I saw your profile and I think you'd be a good match for us. We're a package deal, the four of us. You don't have to pay us exactly, we just need some funding for our work. My boys and I are willing to provide you with any type of company you desire. We don't mind sharing and we take care of what's ours. There are other little details we can go more in depth later, although I might not be able to tell you everything. I'd like to hear what you have to say and any questions you may have. Hope to hear from you soon, Capt. John Price

Everything about the message is... strange... to put it kindly, but you can't help but feel this Capt. John Price is being sincere. Maybe that's a naive, lonely part of you that's convincing yourself that the message is real and not some scam. Maybe you're desperate enough to believe someone- four someone's!- actually have an interest in you.

For what you can give them, but you're not entirely innocent either. This Captain Price- you assume he's military- said he and his boys will give you what you need, and if he's a man of his word, maybe they can distract you from all the noise in your head.

You stare at the message. It wouldn't hurt to take a risk, would it? You can always block the man if he ends up being a creep.

It takes you an hour to finally work up the nerve to craft a small message back to the man. It takes less than a minute for him to respond.

Glad to hear from you, darling. I'll tell you everything you need to know.

The rules are simple.

You fund them with enough money each month they need it for however long they need, and they'll give you all the companionship you want. Whether that's sexual or not is up to you. It doesn't matter to them, though John informed you that if it is sexual, you would need to discuss any limits with the other men yourself. With him, you got to briefly stutter through your likes and dislikes, and he did the same, after discussing all of the rules and expectations.

You don't know if you should be thankful or not when he listened with such intense focus. Like you were briefing him on a mission or whatever it is captains like him do. It makes you nervous. He makes you nervous. Not quite in a bad way, but you've never done this before. The idea of paying another person, well this task force, in exchange for some company to fill your pathetic void feels kind of... sad.

You almost talk yourself out of this whole crazy thing, but you're also kind of curious what could come of it. If John and his boys will really be able to distract you and make you forget how lonely you are.

Being alone, being lonely, never really bothered you before, but after your last relationship... It opened up some old wounds and this sugar arrangement could be the perfect distraction. If only for a while. You'll take whatever you can get at this point.

You look over the messages John sent you, lingering over the pictures he sent of him and the other three men. Well. Two men. John told you this Simon guy would show you his face himself if he wanted to. You don't know if it's a sexual thing or not or something else entirely. You were too afraid to ask, and you don't really know if you want to know. But the other three are handsome, if the pictures John sent aren't fake.

You're still not entirely sure you should trust him. Trust that you're not gonna get all your money stolen. The site you signed up on is reputable for sugar mamas and sugar babies. You couldn't find a bad review written about it. Only positive testimonies with positive outcomes. That could be suspicious in and of itself. Hopefully, you didn't make a mistake.

John said that he would meet you next week when he had time off. Alone. In a public space, but alone. He said he didn't want the boys to overwhelm you, and you're grateful for his consideration because you would have been overwhelmed if you met all of them at once.

You still have time to cancel, if the nerves get to you and you chicken out. John even told you you could back out any time you wanted. But. You want to do something different. You need to do something different. Get yourself out of your head and focus on anything else that doesn't make your mind feel like static.

These men can help with that. This'll be good for you. Probably.

As long as this doesn't end up with you mysteriously disappearing or getting murdered, you'll be content with whatever happens. Besides, it's good to do something out of your comfort zone, and what better way than becoming a sugar mama to four military men who can give you all the company and care you could ever want? Hell, that sounds weird to think about.

There are still little things you have to work around, such as their schedules, but John promised that at least one of them would always come when you called. Already, that gives you more comfort than he could ever know, and perhaps that's foolish of you, but it truly meant a lot when he told you that.

You scroll down to the last message John sent and feel something in your gut flutter.

Can't wait to meet you, Mama.

this might an anthology of sorts. maybe have some loose plot to it. idk.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #f!reader #141 sweet treat <3

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esoteriamaya · 2 months

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Lilith The Enchantress: Lilithian Energy In The Houses. How Each One Brings Their Own Tempting Flair.

So you're probably wondering, where am I going with this?

I wanted to focus on the temptation of lilith, and why she is so oozing and attractive as is she.

For this reading, I will focus on the houses. In my later post, it'll be in each sign.

So lets dig in! Shall we ;)

Lilith in the first house - Pleasing to the eye. Can have a very sultry appearance. There is a point where they must undergo a transformation of the self, and at some point they will have a divine, sensual aura. There sensual power comes through the way they look at you, and often times they can tell when they're being a little too flirtatious. But that is so they can get the person of their choice. Like a siren, they go in for their target and come out on top. They use their attractive persona as like a spell, think of the girl on who framed roger rabbit with the beautiful red hair and dress.

Lilith in the second house - They have an eye for detail. This is the time to take you to their home and show you the rose petals on the bed with the red and white candles everywhere. They know how to make a person want them, by adding to some flair into their home. While also using different aesthetics for they're look to match with the energy that is being shared between them and they're lover. Very picky with who they spend their time with you know. They aren't for everyone. These are the type to make you wait for it.

Lilith in the third house - These are the lovers that can write erotic letters and make you think about them all night. The way their minds can carry a story, and then when you meet them in person its even better than the books. They hold their composure well, but deep inside they are ready to be explored in more ways than one. My my my, they sure know how to right a love spell. One that lasts til the very end.

Lilith in the fourth house - It's actually so much harder to get them to show you who they truly are, thats what makes their mystique so awe dropping. The way these lilithian beings share themselves is with the power of their emotions, and eventually they will bring you right into their beautiful dungeon they call a home. Where you will find all them in just one bite. Very sensual with the right one. The one that makes them feel good, the one that knows them from the inside out. These lilith babes will let you have all of them if once you have succumb to their power.

Lilith in the fifth house - The sensual energy these lilithians carry is a one of a kind. Their magnetism never goes unnoticed, and they take you on a roller coaster of emotions with their performance. They are intimate with their audience and can put you under a spell with the way they make things look. Their hearts are in it with this one. Very gentle to the eye, but to the soul its much more deep and profound. Can't take them anywhere because their wild manes get stuck in the pursuit of love, where they will drenched you with all their sweet and tears to make more use of the bloody romances they've indulged in. They will have you thinking about them for many moons, due to them putting their all into what they do in the matters of the heart.

Lilith in the sixth house - To be loved by a lilith babe with this placement, is to have made yourself fully devoted to them. Worship is what they want, and it is what they need to pursue them. They don't let just anyone in, so you must be prepared to give yourself as an offering. Very pleasant, and freaky to ones they want most. Most never see this coming, which is why they always get away with it ;) The sensual energy they carry is very smooth, abundant and hard to describe. Mysterious auras that you want more of, so much so you will spend every hour, every day of the week wanting to get to know them.

Lilith in the seventh house - The die hard lovers who goes in for the kill. What they want wants them, and they oozee it in with their attraction spells. Their auras are unique, fresh and able to commit to their partners. It's just that they have so many options to choose from so they have no use to sticking around if you're not pulling in your weight. Im sorry, its hard having to be loved by so many! The sensual power in them is hot, tempting, and alluring. You just can't get enough of them. Can see right thru you and can captivate you with just a look!

Lilith in the eighth house - The way they just make things easy with how they seduce people is something I feel nobody else can relate to. The way they come in and take the throne with how they please their partners as well as themselves, It may be that nobody could come close. But thats the thing about being in a scorpion house, is that you touch people in a way that people are not able to control within themselves.. yet you've already mastered it. Very pleasing, pulsating, bold and full of passion. The sensual nature in them could have you feel things you've never felt before, and that will have you in a panic. because the way they are able to get you to come out of that shell and move deeper into them . Will have you begging for more & more & more. Bewitching auras indeed!

Lilith in the ninth house - The delicacy mixed with erotic power. The angels and the demon. The artist and the muse. They have the power to seduce anyone with just their mind alone. They can seduce you with their wit, their humor, their charisma and just their soul in general. But on a sensuality note, they are abundantly clear on what it is they want. And they know just how to get it. They waste no time in going after the energy it is they feel desires them. They are devoted to themselves and the power of a Godly force and nobody comes close. So to the ones who get to experience them, they feel a closeness to the divine that makes you tremble a bit. Because they show us a sense of carefreeness thats been missing, so the way they seduce you is in how they free themselves in a world that is committed to self restraint.

Lilith in the tenth house - Enchanting and mysterious in nature. The world wants to have them but cannot get enough of them. The secret to these characters is that they know what it is you're looking for, but you just won't get it from em. Not immediately that is. They'll make you wait for it. Hell, they'll even charge you for it if your a beggar. They know you want it, but they aren't easy. Like a coquette, they'll have you waiting for years, and their energy will be intact and while yours feels depleted. Lilith tenth housers just know how to work it with their sex appeal. It can transform you, to say the least. ;)

Lilith in the eleventh house - A special energy is unlocked in these lilithians because not only do they have the capacity to seduce the whole world they can be someone close to them too. Be careful with them, because they might bite! ;) Their sensual power comes from the ability to be close with them and they have a compassionate nature too! This makes them way more likeable and seductive. And even if you're close to them, there is still something else about them. Almost hard to ignore, so its no wonder friends and associates try to get it on with em.

Lilith in the twelfth house - If all the other placements are tempting to the eye, then these beings are tempting to the soul. They have a capacity to entice others with the way they carry themselves. They have a gift in pulling you in, and telling a story with just their body language alone. The moment you are seduced by them, is the very moment you come over and have a meeting with God. They are no angel, but they can just about make you feel things that where never present before.

Lilith in these houses can show the tempting, seductive energies of a person if they learn how to tap in. There is a short story about lilith being the tempting 'devil' we kind of all known of her to be. However, learning more complexities of her story. She is so much more. So this just a small version of what we know as lilith, there will be many more to come!

#astrology observations #astro observations #sensuality #astrology theories #astrology thoughts #tropical astrology #spirituality

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florwons · 2 months

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‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt — nishimura riki ‧ ˚₊‧ (PART 2)

synopsis you swore you hated him. he swore he hated you. yet, something changed when your injury brought you together in unexpected ways. as your arm healed, you couldn't ignore how Niki became increasingly attentive and drawn to you. it was a twist you both never saw coming – was it possible that he was developing feelings for the very person he considered his rival?

pairing rival!niki x fem!reader genre fluff, e2ls, hs au !

warnings implies overthinking, jealous niki

featuring danielle newjeans jungwon enhypen gunwook zerobaseone word count 3.6k+ ( 3692 words ) !

note i am so sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long, i’ve just been quite busy 😵‍💫 ! but, i finally finished part 2 !! tysm for all the love on part one, i really do thank you all !! it was my first written work posted on here, so i’m glad people did enjoy reading it <3 hope you enjoy the second part as well !!

— maybe, read part 1 first ?

“It's painfully obvious that they're into each other!" Danielle whisper-shouts to Jungwon beside her, sneaking a glance in your direction. Jungwon nods in agreement, both of them observing as Niki playfully doodles on your cast while you giggle.

This was far from a usual scene for Danielle and Jungwon, and they couldn't have predicted such a turn of events.

Unbeknownst to both you and Niki, your conversations continued to flow as if you were the only two people in each other's world. "You know, Ki, I have to get this cast off next week," you sigh, observing him pause one of his doodles on your cast. A faint frown appeared on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"I was kind of getting used to you being a one-armed wonder," he remarked, earning himself a playful smack on the shoulder that left him rubbing it. "Geez, did all your arm strength go into that smack?"

"Seems like it. But seriously, my doctor says it should be healed by next week."

"I'm going to miss using your cast as my personal canvas."

"You've practically turned my cast into your own art gallery – every doodle is from you, no one else."

"That's why I do it, kind of like practicing, you know? It's become part of my daily routine," he admitted, his words partially true. Yet, there was undoubtedly more to his attachment. It was almost as if these interactions were the only way for both of you to be close. Secretly, he cherished the sight of his drawings everywhere you went.

Sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if you thought about him when you looked at your cast. But surely, he couldn't be developing feelings for you, right? It’s just a different feeling this time–a feeling he experienced when he was finally on good terms with someone who had once been his enemy.

"I'll miss it too," you respond, your gaze fixed on the cast, appreciating all the doodles adorning it. Your feelings for him have evidently grown deep, and there's no denying that fact anymore. "But, having both arms back will definitely be good. I still need to get back at you for that one time we coincidentally ended up in the nurse's office together."

"Hey!" His chuckle is contagious, causing you to laugh as well. Unbeknownst to both of you, Danielle and Jungwon are eavesdropping, recognizing that something is brewing between you two.

"Yep, they're definitely into each other," Jungwon declares, though he sighs afterward. "But they seem like the type to stubbornly deny it afterward."

“So, how do we make them realize their feelings?”

“We both need to individually talk to them about their feelings.”

“I like the way you think, Jungwon.”

The two had never stared at a clock so intently before. Lunchtime was drawing near, yet time seemed to be crawling by. "Just a little longer," both Danielle and Jungwon thought, their anticipation growing as the hour hand inched closer to 12. When the bell finally rang, they exchanged a quick smile before rejoining their respective friends.

"Now, if you don't mind, Niki, I'll be stealing my best friend away," Danielle announced to Niki, who looked a bit puzzled but eventually nodded. Equally bewildered, you allowed Danielle to take you away, offering a small wave to Niki as you went.

Seizing the moment, Jungwon remarked with a grin, "Looks like you and YN are getting pretty close!" Niki's nod was met with an unusually wide smile from his best friend, a grin that seemed just a tad wider than usual.

"What's with that grin on your face?"

"What do you mean, Niki?"

"Your smile looks a bit strange."

"Oh, it's nothing. I just find it cute how quickly you and YN are hitting it off. Maybe a bit quicker than expected."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it wouldn't be a problem if you'd just admit your feelings," Jungwon states matter-of-factly.

Niki comes to an abrupt stop, staring at Jungwon as if trying to process whether he actually heard what was just said. "What?"

"Your feelings for YN," Jungwon repeats.

"Come on, Jungwon, this is ridiculous. I don't have any feelings."

"Are you really sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure. I don't understand why you're even suggesting it."

"Fine, fine. Let's just focus on getting some food. Man, I'm starving," Jungwon sighs, sensing that pressing further won't lead anywhere good. Niki nods, his emotions a jumble, but mainly feeling confused. Why was Jungwon bringing this up all of a sudden? But, he quickly shook off these thoughts, thinking it was just another one of those weird questions he’d ask.

Despite Niki's adamant denial, you found yourself quite honest when Danielle swiftly pulled you out of the classroom. Sensing that something was wrong, you confided in her – the one who had always stood by your side. I mean, what good would it do you if you were to hide it from her?

"Yeah, Dani, I think I might actually like him. And it's kind of freaking me out." You leaned your head on her shoulder once you found a table, seeking some comfort. Danielle offered a reassuring pat on your thigh.

"Why would it be freaking you out? There's nothing wrong with it. You're just feeling uneasy because you two used to hate each other," Danielle pointed out.

"True, but it's just... I don't know, it feels strange."

"Just take your time, okay? You can figure out your feelings for him at your own pace. And who knows, maybe he's feeling the same way."

"I doubt that."

"Hey, don't be so quick to dismiss the idea if you're not sure," Danielle reassured you, her words like a comforting embrace. You hummed in response, genuinely grateful for her unwavering support. Exhaustion seemed to be creeping in, and you found yourself drifting into a light doze, the weight of the situation taking its toll. She allowed you to rest your head on her shoulder, her gaze catching Jungwon and Niki entering the room in perfect timing.

Locking eyes with Jungwon, Danielle shared a smile, a silent acknowledgment that things seemed to be progressing positively between you and your feelings. However, her smile faded slightly as she observed Jungwon's expression, suspecting that Niki might have brushed off any discussions about his feelings. While it might take some time, both Danielle and Jungwon were determined to help bring you and Niki closer.

But five days had since passed, and in the classroom, Jungwon and Danielle were discreetly passing notes, sharing their frustrations and plans regarding your future connection with Niki.

"What should we do, Danielle? Our plans haven't been successful," Jungwon scribbles on a piece of paper, passing it to Danielle beside him. He observes her thoughtful expression as she contemplates a response, then watches as she swiftly writes something down and passes the note back to him. Unfolding the paper, he lets out a small sigh as he reads her words.

"I'm not sure..." Jungwon begins to write a reply, but the teacher's voice cuts through their note exchange, startling them slightly. Were they caught? Were they going to be asked to walk to the front? Anxious glances are exchanged, and the two of them look around, only to spot a new student entering the room.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet our new student, Park Gunwook," the teacher announces. As the shy smile of the newcomer meets the class's greeting, a lightbulb seems to go off in both Danielle and Jungwon's minds. They exchange a knowing glance.

"Let's make Niki jealous."

The universe seemed to be on their side, as the teacher asked Danielle to remind you that you had to tour Gunwook around the school. Not surprised, Danielle sees you with Niki again, distracted in your own conversation with him.

“YN!” Her voice catches your attention, which makes you look her way. Giving her an eyebrow raise, you see her pointing at Gunwook, who had a shy smile on his face. You soon exclaimed, soon realizing what you had to do.

“Oh right! Sorry Niki–I have to help give a tour to the new student.”

“Who?” Niki looked at Danielle’s direction, seeing her and Gunwook together. “Gunwook?”

“Yeah–you weren’t paying attention to what the teacher said to me, did you?”

“Not really,” He pretended to shrug it off. “Why can’t Danielle do it?”

“Well, too late. I already took up the offer. So, see you later?”

“Yeah. See you,” He said as you walked off, watching Gunwook’s smile become wider when you walked by his side. Yeah, Niki did not like that new guy. Not even one bit. Scoffing, Niki reaches for his phone, hoping to distract himself.

“Someone looks mad,” Danielle soon took a seat by his side, soon realizing the change in his behavior.

“Mad about what?”

“Mad about YN leaving with this new guy.”

“It’s just a tour after all.”

“Just a tour,” Danielle couldn’t help but chuckle, but soon stopped by Niki’s sudden glare. “Could be a tour where they get to become friends.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Niki brushes it off, although he wasn’t quite pleased with what Danielle said. “She can do whatever she wants.”

“Sure, Niki. Whatever she wants.”

Walking back from the vending machine with his strawberry milk in hand, Niki's steps faltered as he caught sight of you engaged in a seemingly cheerful conversation with Gunwook. His gaze lingered on the scene for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling within him. A tinge of jealousy gnawed at his chest, but he quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself that he had no right to feel that way.

He took a deep breath and continued walking, forcing himself to focus on his drink and avoid any unnecessary overthinking. Who was he to overthink the situation anyways?

"What's the big deal about him?" Niki's gaze hardened as he observed the two of you, his grip on his strawberry milk tightening. “Surely he can’t be that fun to talk to.” Jungwon couldn't help but let out a chuckle, but his amusement quickly faded when Niki's glare landed on him.

"Feeling a bit jealous, are we?" Jungwon teased.

"Jealous? Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why does it bother you so much? Come on, don't tell me you're clueless about this," Jungwon shot back, taking a casual sip from his drink. "They do seem to have some chemistry, if you ask me."

Niki's frustration was evident as his jaw clenched. He was grappling with emotions he couldn't quite define. The idea of you being with someone else didn't sit well with him, but he wasn't about to admit that openly.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?"

Jungwon flashed a knowing smile. "I'm on the side of the truth. And it's pretty obvious you're feeling something for her."

“Feelings?”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow at Niki's sudden change in tone. “Yeah, yours, you idiot. Why did you become so attached to YN? Weren’t you two rivals before? What changed?” Jungwon asked, soon shushing Niki with his finger. “Don’t answer that—you have feelings for her. That’s why. Isn’t it obvious?”

Niki huffed, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. He took a deep sip of his strawberry milk, as if trying to drown out his own thoughts. "You're reading too much into it.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jungwon's fingers latched onto Niki's ear, causing him to wince in discomfort. Amid his struggle to free himself from Jungwon's grip, Niki abandoned the grip he had on his strawberry milk.

"Jungwon, cut it out! Seriously, I'm not sure if I even... ow! Ow! Fine, fine! I do... ow! Will you let go already?" Niki's voice swung between irritation and a hint of resignation as he massaged his ear once Jungwon finally released it, his scowl directed at his persistent friend.

Jungwon smirked, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "See? Admitting it isn't that bad, is it?"

Niki huffed, his cheeks slightly flushed from a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "Don't get too smug about it. And you better not tell anyone else, got it?"

"You have my word, my secretive friend." Jungwon's grin only grew wider, relishing in the small victory of nudging Niki to confront his feelings, even if it had involved a bit of ear-tugging persuasion.

Now, Jungwon just needed to find a way to convince him to confess his feelings. Texting Danielle immediately, it was time to put part two to the plan in action.

“Why is he here?” Niki whispered softly into Jungwon’s ear, raising his eyebrow at you and Gunwook sitting down together, laughing at each other.

“Cause he is our friend now!” Jungwon said with a big smile, pleased with the frown placed on Niki’s face. Danielle seemed to notice the two before you did, giving a way. Jungwon waved enthusiastically, while Niki gave a small one. Did you not notice him walking into the mall too?

“Hey!” Danielle called out, which finally drew your attention to Jungwon and Niki approaching. You acknowledged them, waving and giving Niki a smile, which brought a hint of color to his cheeks. He guessed that if you were here, then it was okay for Gunwook to join too.

Soon, you and the rest of the group decided to explore random stores in the mall, browsing through clothes, snacks, and everything in between. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, chatting and laughing as they moved from one store to another. At least, that’s what you thought, while Niki felt differently.

Niki could sense that you and Gunwook were growing closer, which bothered him more than he'd like to admit. He couldn't understand why Danielle seemed so unconcerned about the two of you spending more time together, and it baffled him even more that Jungwon wasn't worried. After all, Jungwon had been the one who forced Niki to confess his feelings for you to him, yet he wasn't doing anything or even encouraging him to take action.

However, Niki tried to ignore his thoughts, but he couldn’t shake the twinge of jealousy that tugged at him every time you and Gunwook shared a laugh or whispered to each other. He trailed slightly behind, trying to focus on Jungwon and Danielle's conversation, but his attention kept drifting back to you.

Eventually, you all found a table at the food court, settling down before deciding on what to eat. “Should we just get popcorn chicken? I’m not that hungry,” Danielle suggested, and everyone agreed.

“That sounds good. I can go buy them—just watch over my stuff,” you offered, standing up to make the purchase. Niki noticed Gunwook about to rise from his seat to join you, something he definitely didn't want to happen. Acting on impulse, Niki quickly stood up. “I’ll go with you, Y/N.”

“Huh? Oh—sure!” you replied, a bit surprised. Gunwook also seemed taken aback by Niki’s sudden eagerness, and he slowly sat back down.

As you and Niki walked together toward the food stall, he tried to relax and focus on enjoying your company. “You two seem to have gotten close, huh?” Niki ventured, hoping to find answers to his own thoughts.

“Oh, with Gunwook?” you replied thoughtfully. “He’s been texting me more lately, so I’m more comfortable with him now, even though I don’t hang out with him much during school hours and such.”

“So, you want to hang out with him more during school hours too?” Niki asked, sounding slightly defeated as he jumped to conclusions.

You looked at him, confused, which snapped him out of his thoughts. “I wouldn’t mind it, but I’d prefer spending time with you, Danielle, and Jungwon. After all, we are closer, don’t you think?”

Niki nodded in response, feeling both relieved and uneasy. He would have been more content if you hadn’t mentioned the first part, but he’d take what he could get for now.

It wasn’t long before the two of you returned to the rest of the group, finished up your food, and decided to head to the arcade. Even with your reassuring words, the comfort they gave Niki was fleeting. As soon as you arrived at the arcade, Gunwook seemed to cling to you more than ever, almost as if he was doing it on purpose.

Niki hated being apart from you and found it hard to shake the feeling of jealousy that gnawed at him. It had been a long time since Niki had disliked someone this much.

Much to his dislike, Danielle and Jungwon seemed to catch onto Niki and Gunwook’s behavior. They whispered among themselves and managed to distract Gunwook, leaving you and Niki alone for a moment.

You and Niki were at the claw machines, and you cheered him on as he focused on getting a duck plush. “Come on, Niki, I know you’re good at these!”

“Yeah, I should be better than Gunwook,” he blurted out before panicking internally and trying to concentrate on the prize in front of him.

If he didn’t say anything about it, you’d— “Huh? What about Gunwook?”

Niki laughed it off nervously, saying, “You seem to be having a great time with Gunwook today, so I figured he’d be trying his hand at the claw machines too and showing off his skills, you know.”

“Are you trying to say you’ll be better than Gunwook at this?”

“I am better at this than him—just watch, I’ll impress you,” Niki said, pressing his lips together in concentration. He let out a muffled sound of despair as the plush dropped again.

You watched Niki with growing amusement, starting to connect the pieces. His comments about Gunwook, his sudden eagerness to join you at the food stall, and the way he seemed on edge whenever Gunwook was around—everything pointed to one conclusion. Instead of feeling confused, you felt flustered, realizing that Niki might be jealous of Gunwook.

“Niki,” you said softly, trying to hide your smile, “you don’t have to impress me. I already think you’re amazing.”

Niki paused, glancing at you with a hint of surprise in his eyes. “Really?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yeah,” you nodded, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “So instead of trying to impress me with a claw machine, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

Niki hesitated, looking down at his shoes for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There was a vulnerability in his expression that you hadn’t seen before, a mix of uncertainty and hope.

“I…” He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I guess I’ve been a little jealous today. I didn’t like seeing Gunwook so close to you, and it made me realize how much I care about you.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his honesty. “I kind of thought so,” you admitted. “And for what it’s worth, I really like spending time with you, too.”

A small smile crept onto Niki’s face, relief washing over him. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You both stood there for a moment, the noise of the arcade fading into the background.

With the silence hanging between you, Niki cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He turned his attention back to the claw machine, his determination renewed as he focused on winning the duck plush.

“I’m going to get this for you,” he declared, a hint of playful defiance in his voice. “Not because I’m trying to impress you, but because I want to.”

You chuckled softly, watching him maneuver the claw with renewed focus. “No pressure, but I have faith in you,” you teased, leaning closer to the machine.

He finally managed to win the duck plush, pulling it from the machine with a triumphant grin. “Well, then,” he said, offering it to you with a shy smile, “this is for you.”

"Thank you, Niki," you smiled, hugging the plush to your chest. Continuing to tease him, you added, "So, I'm taking this as your way of saying 'I like you' indirectly, hm?"

Niki's eyes widened slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. “Don’t get ahead of yourself…”

“Oh? So, you’re fine with me going back to Gunwook?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Niki glared. “Fine, I like you a lot. More than I could’ve imagined.” he admitted with a shy smile. “So, there’s no way I’m letting Gunwook win you over.”

You smiled, ��I was just kidding, anyway. I only ever had eyes on you.”

“Really?” he said, sounding both confused and relieved that you felt the same way all along.

“Why do you think I asked you to get me that duck plush, huh?”

“Why?”

“Because it reminds me of you. That’s why I wanted you to get it, so it could mean even more.”

“Really? I look like that duck?” He pointed at the plush in your hand, showing a mock disgusted expression, which made you laugh.

“Of course!” you replied with a playful grin.

“I think we could’ve gotten a better…representation. Maybe something cooler?” Niki pestered.

“Whatever you say, you’ll still forever look like a duck to me,” you shrugged. “The duck is cute, and you’re cute too.

Niki chuckled, shaking his head. “You have a weird way of saying you like me too.”

“Well, if that didn’t come off too clear—I like you more, Niki.”

“Now, if you really liked me, you would totally associate me with a cooler animal, wouldn’t you?” Niki jokes.

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” you chuckled. “But for now, you definitely suit this adorable duck. Now, come on, let’s go meet up with the rest.” With a playful grin, you grabbed his hand and tugged him along, holding onto the duck plush that now symbolized him in your eyes.

Niki playfully rolled his eyes, but soon a sheepish grin spread across his face. He was willing to go along with whatever you said or wanted; being with you felt perfect, and he hoped moments like these would last forever.

( thank you for joining >< ) @cha3w0n-hearts @k1ttylvr @feitem @honey-bunnysweet

477 notes · View notes

saleeba · 11 months

Text

fool ; jude bellingham

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

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

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

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

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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gatorbites-imagines · 11 months

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Kinktober day 27

Bruce Wayne + cock cages

Schools killing me, I am so tired rn 👍

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Bruce stood amongst the many attendees of whatever Gala it was he was taking part in. It was one of many he had to attend during this time of year, so many people to greet and so many hands to shake, as surface level conversations passed from person to person, in some weak attempt at comradery.

But only about half his mind was on the Gala and people around him, instead he was more deeply focused on the metal constraint weighing on his crotch. You two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, both busy with your work, as heroes and during the day.

Bruce wasn’t sure what had come over him, but around halfway through the third week he had started sending you pictures and texts that he knew would get in trouble, but he couldn’t help himself. From pictures of him in just his tight black briefs, to him in even less splayed out on the deep red silk sheets of his bed. Every picture he took was planned and posed just right, showing off just what he knew got you going.

It awoke some giddy almost bratty part of him when you texted him back warning him about punishment, part of himself that Bruce thought didn’t exist anymore at his older age, but you lived to prove him wrong. When you finally reunited again, you gripped onto his shirt and pulled him to his bedroom, Bruce almost stumbling along after you as excitement and arousal bubbled in his gut.

But as you kissed and licked and bit, never once did you actually grab his cock. Even as you sat him in your lap and pinched and twisted at his nipples, or sucked hickeys on his thick pecs, even as he groaned and whined, his hips lifting off the bed in search of any semblance of friction.

Instead, you just kept teasing him until he was a dripping wet mess, the crotch of his boxers and slacks wet and sticky to the touch. But in the end, you didn’t bring him any type of completion, just laying down on the bed beside him and pulling out your phone, scrolling through different work emails or notifications.

Bruce found himself feeling almost wild as he scrambled into your lap, trying to gain your attention as he gripped onto your chest, his blue eyes misty and lip red from all the biting he had done to it. As he tried to grind against you, you wound your arm around him and pulled him down against you, letting out a displeased noise that had him going slack almost immediately.

This kept up for a few more days, you teasing him and kissing him, but never touching him where he wanted you the most. The closest Bruce got to it was when you pressed up against his back and rolled your hips into his ass as he was working on the batcomputer, but the touch was gone as quickly as it came, leaving him aching even more than before.

The lead to this night, as he stood getting ready for yet another gala he had to attend. As he did his tie, you came up behind him and wound your arms around his waist, the small touch almost having Bruce keening and buckling at the knees from the gut burning need he had for you and your touch.

“I have a way we can end this little game, what do you say?” you mutter against his neck, Bruce finding himself nodding before he even heard what you had to say. But it had been weeks apart, and now almost a week of you teasing him any chance you got. He knew it was his own fault for teasing and sending those pictures, but just the thought of going another day almost had him in tears.

That’s how he found himself on the bed, an ice-cold rag on his hard cock as you dug through the drawers beside your shared bed. Bruce had gasped as you placed the rag on his dick, but the metallic clinks of the item you were messing with made it obvious what you had in mind. Bruce found himself gulping nervously as he caught sight of the cage, made of stainless steel and custom made for his specific size and needs.

His legs shivered as you removed the rag and got to work securing the cage around his cock, the coldness keeping him from getting hard immediately again, and when he could feel the heat returning the padlock of the cage snapped shut. Bruce exhaled shakily as you wound the kay around your neck, placing an almost loving kiss against his tip through the cage.

He twitched and gasped as you patted his caged cock a few times as you got to your feet, the grin on your face a little cocky as you watched Batman himself writhing against the sheets. “Come on Love, we have a gala to go to” your voice as thick with want yet teasing as you stepped away from him, moving to get dressed up yourself.

Bruce needed a moment before he shakily got to his feet, tucking on the clothes needed. It was only experience that kept it hidden that he wasn’t feeling as even footed as usual, but your hand on his lower back kept him steady, even when your thumb rubbing against his lower back had him shiver softly.

Through the whole night he could feel his cock ache against the bars of his cage, trying again and again to get hard as the smallest touch from you set his senses alight. But no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible, and he could almost had cried as you finally left the Gala together.

As you got into the drivers’ seat of the car, Bruce took his spot in the passenger side, his hips softly rocking against his own wishes like his body just couldn’t take it anymore. A soft chuckle left you as you placed a hand on his thigh, your hand dangerously close to his still locked up cock as you drove back towards the manor, soft mutters of praise leaving you as Bruce tried to keep himself presentable. He knew from your praise that he had done good, he could only hope you would keep up your promise and finally touch him, whenever you decided to take off the cage, that was.

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eupheme · 5 months

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— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope.

You hadn’t.

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure.

It doesn't fucking matter.

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you.

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy.

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic.

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat.

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals.

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in.

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you.

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together.

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound.

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you.

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough.

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead.

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber.

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones.

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into.

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them.

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm.

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs.

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free.

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest.

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again.

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way.

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye.

You both know how this will go, when you get back home.

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart.

Maybe he’d show.

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after.

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart.

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge.

No one was coming for you.

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin.

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him.

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls.

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below.

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience.

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret.

Comin' after a girl then, too.

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind.

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago.

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back.

But he's never much liked being underground.

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through.

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that.

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you.

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons.

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow.

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet.

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth.

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently.

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all.

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away.

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation.

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes.

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after.

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck.

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down.

Hold on, he thinks.

I’m coming.

His whistle echoes in the chamber.

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him.

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery.

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death.

It rankles him, teeth set on edge.

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice.

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember.

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that.

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck.

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice.

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers.

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back.

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been.

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you.

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him.

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor.

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash.

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires.

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second.

Always too goddamn slow.

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado.

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired.

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door.

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him.

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back.

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast.

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought.

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long.

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices.

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat.

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched.

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments.

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal.

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting.

He had blown through them like it was nothing.

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower.

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement.

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head.

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs.

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did.

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you.

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years.

You’re not able to resist.

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw.

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering.

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer.

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands.

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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mattyriddlesbitch · 5 months

Note

matty + ravenclaw reader 🙏🏻

(a little bit of smut if you want

I love this because I'm a Ravenclaw and am in love with Matty, so I got you!

I think Mattheo is actually really smart, like could get straight As type, but doesn't apply himself, so he wasn't too thrilled when McGonagall told him he needed to get a tutor and she already assigned him one. Which was obviously you.

He'd seen you around, thought you were pretty, but he never really talked to you. He thought you'd be some type of annoying know-it-all.

So imagine his surprise when you had your first tutoring session and you were actually pretty chill. He didn't actually need to be tutored, he knew that, but you didn't and kept trying to get his focus back on the work while he was trying to distract you the whole time, either with jokes or asking questions about yourself. He loved when you got annoyed at him and tried to get him back on track.

That's how all study sessions went. About a few minutes of studying and then he was trying to get you off topic. He actually did want to get to know you. You were so pretty and smart and witty and pretty. That's what he thought. Even when he was quiet and not trying to distract you, he was staring at you, whether you were talking or not.

I will always stand by this, he is almost stalkerish when he likes a girl, trying to find out everything about her, befriending her friends. You're no different. He's trying to catch you out of classes, trying to catch you in the library, or even in the halls between classes.

Will 100% annoy you when you're trying to study in the library if he finds you there. He'll sit down with you and try to get your attention, taking your books or notes. Loves your glares.

After a few months of study sessions, he tells you he doesn't need them. You think he's lying, his grades haven't improved. He makes a bet that if he can get 100% on his next test, he gets to take you out. You roll your eyes but agree. Just imagine the smug face he makes when he comes up to you the following week with perfect marks on his test.

And he takes you on such a nice date. He may love annoying you and playing around with you, but he actually wanted to impress you, show you he can be a decent guy. He finds out from your friends what your perfect first date would be and tries to do that as best as he can. Coffee shop date? Perfect, he'll take you to the nicest one in Hogsmeade. Movie and dinner? If he can't take you to a theater, he'll set up a projector in his dorm and bribe the house elves to either make you guys food or let him make it in the kitchen.

He loves reading, but isn't an obvious and reads everywhere type of person, but he loves just relaxing together and reading, while occasionally annoying you until you threaten to leave. Will also read the books you read. Better hope he doesn't see any of your smutty books. Or maybe hope he does. He'll recreate some scenes with you.

Loves how smart you are, brags to his friends about it all the time. Will always go to you with questions. But will also tease you if you don't know something that he does.

Will start making your grades a competition too. Likes annoying you by scoring higher. It does help his grades in the end anyways, so you take it as a win. McGonagall wasn't expecting this outcome, but is pleased with the result.

I also think he would send McGonagall a 'thank you' letter/note for putting you two together but will never admit to it

He loves you so much. He loves the sweet side to you and the sassy, witty side as well. He loves that balance you give him and knowing how to read him to tell what side he needs.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath

Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys headcanons

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raribella · 8 months

Text

Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank

summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end

contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.

word count: 2,7k

author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”

the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.

But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.

To his bullshit.

Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.

You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.

Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.

“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”

Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.

“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“

As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.

You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.

You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.

You were bottled up to the brim.

It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.

"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”

“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-

“Y/n, listen to me!”

You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.

“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”

it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.

You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.

“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”

At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.

“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“

“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”

You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.

“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”

Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.

“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.

“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”

JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.

“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“

You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.

“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“

As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“

“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.

“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”

As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.

“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”

And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.

“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.

“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.

“First thing in the morning.” You answered.

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