#i hope this is okay đ„ș
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fem!yeonjun whoâs asking you for help to do her makeup⊠you end up in the same position as this famous meme where one girl hovers over the other to do her makeup⊠youâre on top of her, your eyes should be focusing on her face for the makeup to apply on, but her cleavage looks too hypnotizing⊠ever since youâve known yeonjun was bi, your feelings of friendship for her started to mix with those of love⊠and since this was your first crush on a girl, you were being shit at hiding how much yeonjun arouses you⊠đ„ș
âany time now, y/n,â yeonjun says, playfully impatient.
you swallow thickly, liquid eyeliner in hand as you hover over your best friend. youâve known each other for years, but you donât think youâve ever been so physically close before.
was she always this pretty? did her lips always look this full?
did her boobs always look this good in this shirt? youâve seen her in it before, a black square neck crop top, her cleavage poking out of the top, soft and supple and oh, so kissable.
but you canât do that. you shouldnât even think of doing such a thing.
âmkay, close your eyes,â you say, leaning forward to apply dark brown eyeliner to yeonjunâs eyelids. your stomach turns as you observe more of her beautiful features. long eyelashes, button nose, her soft cheeks⊠and again, those full, pink pouty lips just begging to be kissed.
but you canât do that.
you shouldnât, youâre just friends.
âmake me look pretty, âkay?â yeonjun says.
âwhatever, just donât move,â you respond dryly. she doesnât need your help with that at all. sheâs already so beautiful and funny and outgoing and magnetic and charismatic andâŠ
âjjunie, i think i love you.â
the words left your lips before you could even stop them.
yeonjunâs eyes shoot open and she looks right up at you.
âwhat?â
âi⊠uh, i was just joking! what, canât take a joke?â you force out a laugh. yeonjun isnât convinced.
ây/n, be so for real right now,â she says. she props herself up on her elbows and you move back, prepared to get off of her lap, but youâre taken by surprise when you feel her hands on your hips, forcing you to stay.
ânope, stay right there,â she says firmly. âyouâre gonna repeat what you said, right now.â
your confusion must make itself apparent on your face because yeonjun makes a face at you.
âyou heard me. if youâre gonna say what you said, say it with your chest.â
you feel sick to your stomach. you can feel the warmth of her hands through the fabric of your skirt.
âi-i canât,â you say with a shake of your head.
âyou just did.â
âi know, and that was stupid.â
âwhy?â
âwhat?â
âwhy was it stupid?â yeonjun asks. curse her need to always know the answer.
âbecause! weâre not⊠like that.â
âlike what?â
âyou ask a lot of questions.â
âi just wanna hear you say it,â yeonjunâs hands slide up from your hips to rest softly on your waist.
she knows exactly what sheâs doing. if thereâs one thing yeonjun has down to a science itâs her ability to wear you down.
âi said i think i love you, jjunie.â
âsee? how hard was that?â she says with a smirk and you push her hands off of your body.
âwhatever, just forget i said anything.â
you move to get off of her lap, but she holds you in place with her strong hands. your heart is pounding as you straddle her.
âaht, i didnât say you could leave yet. you said you think you love me. what do i have to do to make you know it?â
#i hope this is okay đ„ș#this makes me wanna write a full fic so bad ahhh#you love your bff yeonjun but so does everyone else đ„șđ#jjunie đŠ#cherry bear đ§žđđ©·
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@abeautifulmencgerie as plotted
Small gathering, Thor had mentioned a small gathering and yet there was quite a few. Asteria knew Tony Stark doesnât just do small gathering and she knew people would dress up and so when she arrived, others had been dressed in cocktail dresses.
Itâs easy to find Thor, to mingle with others as Thor introduced her to his friends and acquaintances until she sneaked away and found a spot right next someone- handsome blonde.
âïżŒYou donât like parties?â Asteria asked with a playful smile on her lips âI believe Thor have not introduced you to me. I am Asteria- daughter of Poseidon.â
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the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)
after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)
the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol
lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him
#I am worried about him all the time. but also: his found family of godslaying maniacs and also the power of love. there are reasons to hope#when there was only one set of footprints in the sand that was the veilguard party holding lucanis in their arms#and going 'excuse you he said no FUCKING pickles!!!' while he's like 'đ„șshould you guys really be -- ' 'YES'#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age meta#there's some messiness to his arc but what mary kirby managed to capture here about how this works. is everything to me#he is so exactly for me. I'm sorry for all the people he turned out not to be for. but not for him being for me#the gift of looking at him and hearing 'you're more than what you're going through' and be forced to annoyedly go 'okay#MAYBE that could be also be true for me. maybe.' he's going through it. and also so much more and the funniest person in the world#he's so worth it to still have in the world!!!!#I'm so glad we don't get to 'fix' his relationship with his family and especially caterina actually#that is stuff that would need to happen on a time scale waaay outside of the one in this game#and there's Something very real in having to go 'this is not for me to decide for you. who you love and what you do about it is yours'
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football bf seonghwa i love you so đ
#ateez#ateezlovenet#atzsource#seonghwanet#kpopccc#ultkpop#kpopedit#malegroupsnet#seonghwa#park seonghwa#hwahwa đ#mine.hwa#lucieblr#usertheos#useranusia#majatual#hanaablr#userkngld#blueberryshay#anniehae#heyfio#fordaniseyes#forbelleseyes#he said he looks awful here?? and i'm just like??? are you nuts???#i have literally never seen anyone more beautiful đ„șđ„șđ„ș#anyways i hope he's doing okay đ„șđ„ș
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not me đ€đ» only friends
#only friends#only friends series#only friends the series#only friends ep9#not me the series#ofts#gmmtv#not me#jojo saw not me and said yknow what.....------#and i respect him for that#sdhgkdfhg#also making this made me miss yok so much like please----#my all time favorite boy đ„șđ©#i hope hes okay i hope hes happy#jojo thinking of a visual concept for boeing: how do i combine my 2 favorite characters gram and alan#oh i know#QUICK CALL MOND#crew: but-----he left gmm-#jojo: I SAID CALL HIM
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fool ; jude bellingham
summary ⥠betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.
pairing ⥠jude bellingham x fem!reader
content ⥠18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)
a/n ⥠she's baaaack :D but firstâđœalexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "youâre a goddess but iâm 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 đ«¶đœđ WAIT P.S this isnât proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didnât wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again ⊠im sorry for any mistakes :â)
you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friendsâ groupchat â 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.Â
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 groupchatâs 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. youâd 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: doesnât that seem too desperate?
no, right? iâm just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. youâre 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 itâd 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 âiâm up for it!â, 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 youâre going to handle seeing him in person.Â
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 đ: heyy iâm so glad you can make it tomorrow :)
jude đ: canât wait to see you!! â€â€
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 couldnât have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldnât have just left the end of the messages with a âxâ 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 youâd seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad.Â
you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.
you: canât wait to see you too! â€
you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more â 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. itâs pathetic really; you hadnât seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets youâd 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 youâre whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends.Â
as soon as you step your high heels into the building, youâre 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.
âfinally, girls. you took your time!â one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.
âoh god, what have we missed?â you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for.Â
ânah, youâre just in time because⊠first roundâs on mister madrid!â
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 â graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.
âyeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,â 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. âhelp us out, will ya, y/n?â
you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. âuh⊠uh-huh, yeah, of course.â 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. thereâs an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you arenât normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that heâd be eligible to talk for england if he wasnât already playing football for them. heâd retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and youâd dryly reply with a âwell, theyâre too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!â the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didnât expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other â 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.
âsoo, how have you been, then?â youâre both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in judeâs direction to indicate that yes, it is him that youâre talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way youâre positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. âhowâs la vida española?â
jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since heâs 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.
âyeah, itâs been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,â jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you canât help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. âi miss you, though, yâknow⊠a lot.âÂ
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.Â
you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting âughâŠâ, judeâs face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.
âoh my god, you dickhead, iâm joking,â how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now youâd transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well â youâre quietly proud of yourself. âi missed you too, jude⊠a lot.â you coyly repeat his words.Â
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 youâre 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, youâre all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way youâre strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from whatâs 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.
âiâll come with you,â 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. âiâm fine, iâm okay.â 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. judeâs soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though.Â
âuhm, where are we going?â you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldnât walk in a simple straight line to get to where youâd planned to go. âjude?â
heâs silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where heâs 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 werenât 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 canât help but feel so keenly anticipative.
âiâm sorry, i justâŠâ 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. âam i okay to do this?â 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 âyou can do whatever you want to meâ.
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 theyâre 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 youâre both consumed by each other.Â
itâs a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but itâs 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, heâs so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel.Â
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 youâre 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. âi-iâm sorry,â 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.Â
your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them youâre not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that youâll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell theyâre 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 canât 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 â you donât know if itâs the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like thereâs no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again.Â
the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journeyâs fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like youâve 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 judeÂ
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 heâs 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 donât 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 youâre organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what youâre doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one oâclock. you donât recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late.Â
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 â anything to escape the confrontation that youâre 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.Â
âj-jude, hi,â 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. âwhat are you doing here?â
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. ây/n⊠sorry, can i come in?â
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.Â
âuhm, iâm sorry for turning up unannounced, and so lateâŠâ ever the courteous. âi had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.â he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.
you cut off his rambling with a curt âwhat do you want, jude?â you donât 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.Â
âright, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,â 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. âiâm so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i havenât stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-iâm sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably donât even feel the same bu-â
you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you canât bear holding back your real emotions, not when heâs practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.
âno, jude, i didnât feel uncomfortable at all,â you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost canât believe the words leaving your mouth right now. âi wanted it to happen, iâm glad it happened, you know, i think iâve had dreams about it happening,â you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. âi really like you, jude, i have for a long time⊠god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.â you return to making light of the situation youâve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up.Â
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 canât 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.
âi canât tell you how long iâve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,â your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. âiâm a fool for not telling you sooner⊠i like you, y/n, i really like you.â he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision.Â
âcan i kiss you?â 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.
âplease take me to the bedroom,â you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. thereâs 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 donât 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.Â
once theyâre 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.Â
âneed to get you ready, baby,â the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where thereâs a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.
âjude, please,â you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely.Â
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 â 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.Â
you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course donât want this to be the only part but youâre still so very grateful, so fucking grateful heâs 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 judeâs.Â
âfuck, baby,â 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. âfeel so good and tight around my fingers, canât imagine how youâll feel around my dick.âÂ
his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release.Â
âplease, jude, iâm so close,â youâre warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. âgod, please, i need it,âÂ
jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. âno way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,â 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.Â
âmove up the bed for me, angel,â he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like theyâve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . âgood girl,â he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. âare you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?â
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 hadnât 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.Â
âiâm more than okay with this,â you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. âand yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.â
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.
âoh my god!â 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.Â
judeâs 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 â 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. youâre amazed at how his cock doesnât relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when heâs so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.
âthere,â he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. ânow, thereâs no doubt that youâre really mine.â 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 itâs all too much for you, that youâre so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure thatâs you gone now; youâre more willing to put the boy above your own needs because youâre down that fucking bad for him.
âfuck, jude, iâm gonna cum!â you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. youâre frantically chanting âplease, please, pleaseâ into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones.Â
âgo on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,â 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 donât need his permission, he wouldâve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, wouldâve 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 â he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasnât 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 canât 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. youâre still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which youâre finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he canât help but breathe like he hasnât had access to air for the past hour. Â
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 canât 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.Â
the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but itâs the most comfortable silence youâve 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 â you want full attention on him.
âi donât want this to be a one-time kinda thing, yâknow,â he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.
âwhat, is this your way of saying you want round two already?â you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.
âshut up,â he delivers a poke to your side. âi mean, well, i donât want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i justâŠâ you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. âi want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.âÂ
youâre nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if theyâre real or if youâre 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 thatâs an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying âyes, yes, of courseâ to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion youâre both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each otherâs mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.
#girlies iâve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! đ«¶đœ#then again iâve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . đđđ#guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like âguys i-iâve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this đ„șđ„ș' 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 ( ÍĄ ° ÍÊ ÍĄ °)#ËËË đ ËËË#ËËË đŹ ËËË#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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HAPPY BIRTHDAY 2 YOOOOUUUâŠ.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY 2 YOOOOOOOOOOU!!!!!!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR INK SANSâŠâŠ
Happy birthday 2 youđ„°
#art shtuff#awww my baby!!!đđđ#theyâre growing up so fastđ„ș#8 years old alreadyâŠ.#I love you ink sans you mean the world 2 me I hope you know it#I both hate and love this drawing but itâs OKAY!!!#bc itâs his birthday#happy birthday ink sans I love you#do I drop the Timelapse here too chat or no#ink sans#ink!sans#ink sansâ birthdayđ„șđ„șđ„ș
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Iâve been enjoying some premature ejaculation thoughts recently and itâs probably time to talk about them before they makes me even dizzier đ€€
Just the thought of slipping Buckyâs thick, leaking dick slowly inside you while youâre on top. The glide down on top of him is wonderful and when heâs as deep inside you as you can manage, you take a second to just enjoy feeling stuffed full.
You feel him throbbing inside you, his dick twitching and although heâs trying to keep it together, heâs determined not to let you know that.
After a couple of seconds, you raise your hips and let them fall again, working just a couple of inches towards the base of his cock.
You do the same again a few more times, barely establishing a rhythm before you feel Buckyâs grip on your hips tighten. âYou have to slow down for me, sweetheart.â
The strain in his voice floods you with panic for a second and you stop moving.
âDoes it hurt? We can try a different position if you like.â You cradle his face with one hand while holding yourself up with the other, staying as still as possible.
âIt doesnât hurt. Just might not last very long like this. Feels so good.â Heâs a little embarrassed to admit it but heâs got nothing to worry about.
âOh? You like this?â You roll your hips once more and enjoy the sharp intake of air it forces into your partner. âIs this too much for you?â
He nods sheepishly, aware of how much he wants this but of how much he wants to please you too.
âYou gonna cum inside me already?â You tease, biting your bottom lip while you raise your hips up, letting him slide almost entirely out of you before sinking back down.
The moan it draws from him is beautiful but youâre not stopping there. âYou are, arenât you? Youâre going to stuff my pretty pussy full of cum for me. Gonna make sure you have nothing left tonight.â
âFuck, fuck.â He groans, his hands gripping your waist, pressing you down so he can finish as deep inside you as he can. His face is scrunched in pleasure while his hot cum shoots in thick ropes against the walls of your eager pussy.
Thereâs something so satisfying in the knowledge that it took no time at all for him to finish and if the rest of the evening is like this, itâll be a whole lot more fun than you imagined.
#beccaâs thots#becca writes spice#subby!bucky#Idk this scratches such an itch for me#brain starts purring at the thought of this#and on a more wholesome note#I planted some strawberry seeds this week!!#really excited about them#I hope they turn out okay đ„ș
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the never-ending fairy saga [21/?] âȘ soobin + 'sugar rush ride'
#txt#tubatunet#ultkpop#kpopccc#kpopstages#malegroupsnet#soobin#choi soobin#igm.gif#mine:txt#p: ending#useryeonbins#userchoi#usersemily#chwedoutbox#hanatonin#fordaniseyes#useranusia#tuserflora#forparker#vacantlook#usergyunie#tuserrowan#my lil entry for soobie's bdayyy <3#i hope the layout and colouring is okay i was going to tear my hair out from stress T~T#the way i had to do this over a span of days đđđ by anyways#happy birthday soobie i love u i miss u and i hope you are resting well đ„șđ#posting a lil early bc i wanna sleep đ
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just got home from seeing miles and oh my GODDDDD. so much to unpack. SO MUCH. iâll do a proper post tomorrow when my brain is remotely coherent again, but for now the headlines: he is (as always) absolutely fucking incredible live; i had not one but TWO super awkward run ins with him before the gig even started; i will never recover from hearing shavambacu; there was a VERY interesting moment when he was introducing âsee ya when i see yaâ; and, in the least creepy way possible, i may or may not now know what itâs like to be spat on by miles kane mid performance đ«
#such a wonderful musician and an absolute GEM of a human being đ#thanking all the deities for letting my health be good enough for me to go tonight đđđ#it was so ridiculously good#he really is so special live âš#though i got sad vibes from him tonight too đ„ș#i hope heâs okay#he was wonderful and talented and engaging but idk. it was just an impression i got#he definitely comes across as someone who feels things very deeply#like that was very much something i got the impression of last time#and he just seemed#idk#like maybe he could have used a hug from someone who knows him really well đ„ș#but anyway#enough rambling from me#itâs so late and i am almost certainly making no sense at all at this point because honestly#who would be in my position??? đ#miles kane#lulu posts
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an early christmas fanartđ€âïž
#aah i suddenly had an energy rush and a longing to go back to drawing steveđ„č#after months of studying for the bar exam & finally taking the test just yesterday..#i canât tell you guys how much weight has been lifted off my shoulders#idk how the result will turn out but iâm still hopeful. no matter the outcome i will accept it with an open mind and heartđ€#in the meantime#have u gotten ur loved ones andurself a christmas present?đ„ș it's okay to treat yourself this month u know? even on a smaller scale <3#steve rogers fanart#captain america fanart#novembersippedaway
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okay so, this evening has not been fun for me, so ofc Iâm gonna try coping via escapism đ€©
and as always you are absolutely NOT obligated to write it. Iâm so serious, if you donât want to thereâs absolutely zero pressure emmy, Iâd completely understand one hundred percent.
very long story short, I got my grades back for this semester and despite doing soooo much better overall this year than my first year and not failing a single class this time around, unless I get a miracle itâs looking like Iâm going to have to be asked to withdraw from my university for a whole year âčïž
and as someone who got straight As from elementary til my last year of high school/made school my whole life, this is just an enormous blow to any self confidence I had finally built back up. I was doing better mentally and finally feeling a bit like myself again and Iâve just felt so sick with anxiety all evening because I donât even know what to do anymore. If they decide to ask me to leave, itâll make my chances of medical school even slimmer than they already were and I canât help but feel like a bit of a failure and like Iâve just ruined my future despite knowing itâs not all true and I still have options :(
itâs so hyper specific and Iâm so so so sorry abt that, but would it be possible for some comfort + tons of fluff with kuroo possibly? I just want to be babied a bit by this fictional man LOL. I feel like heâd know exactly what to do and how to get my mind off of it until I inevitably get that email :(
anon <3
My love, I am so sorry youâre having to go through this, and I am here, to PERSONALLY, tell you that you are far from a failure, and you should still be proud of yourself for getting so far. Itâs okay to have bumps like this that halt your dreams, and it doesnât make you any less deserving of continuing to chase those dreams. And hey! Use me as an example! I went from being a mechanic for four years and being fired for being so terrible (yes that is an actual thing that happened) then I went to college for writing; and now Iâm a licensed esthetician with a focus in makeup artistry! There is no such thing as a dead end, no such thing as a closed room, just keep treating yourself gently and reminding yourself that this is far from over, your dream is still more than obtainable with some time and it is more than okay.
Ahem. Let me get off my soapbox PFFFF-
ââ-
Last night, you refreshed your emails who knows how many times, staring at your computer screen on the verge of hyperventilating for what felt like hours- and it might have been; your brain canât process how long it was right now.
Your bottom lip was tight between your teeth, the hand on the mouse pad trembling, waiting in anticipation, tight with nerves. Your other rested a fist on your lap, waiting for the results and occasionally wiping a rogue tear that falls.
Thereâs a soft rapping on the door, but you donât turn to face it. You merely keep refreshing.
âHey,â tetsuro whispers, and you hear his feet padding into the room, and when he gets next to you, he crouches down. Once again, you canât spare him a glance. âAny updates?â
You stay silent. He winces, âIâll take that at a noâŠâ he lays a warm hand on your back and gently rubs it in circles, âitâs okay baby. Weâll figure it out, we always do.â
âTetsuro, please,â you whimper, not quite in the mood for a pep talk. âIâm going to puke right now, my life is in flames and crumbling around me, Iâm so nervous, please. Save the pep talk, I canât handle it right now.â
âI'm sorry,â he soothes. He doesnât say anything further, just rubbing your back in slow, firm circles with his palm, blinking his golden eyes up at you warmly, lovingly.
You feel your body cramp from being under his loving touch, suddenly dawning on you just how long you've been sitting in the chair, inert and unwilling to peel your eyes from the email inbox. You suddenly become hyperaware of how your legs feel numb, your fingers are cramped and your eyes are burning. It's the first time in hours you've taken a break from your refreshing to scrub at your eyes, breeding a wetness to try and soothe the sting.
You hear Tetsuro sigh, "why... don't we go to bed, angel?"
"No."
"But-"
"I can't," you whimper. "Not now. Not yet-" your breathing picks up as you look at him in despair, chest fluttering and heart pounding as you try to breathe. He furrows his brows and shushes you softly, big hands moving to cradle your cheeks and force you to look at him.
"Baby," he says softly, but firm enough to ground you. "It's late. They're not going to send it this late at night. And if they do, we'll deal with it when we wake up tomorrow. But I'm almost certain they're not going to send it to you this late. I promise, okay?"
You let out a shaky sigh and look at the time: 22:43. It's far too late to be thinking, to be worrying, and you'd much rather breakdown in the comfort of your own bed, than alone in this wooden chair.
But you do know that, no matter what, Tetsuro is going to be right next to you, rubbing your back and cradling you close.
When you say nothing, Tetsuro slowly stands up and scoops you in his big, strong arms, "come on, angel face. Let's get some rest." You thunk your head against his chest and fist your fingers into the collar of his shirt, letting him carry you to the bathroom where he plops you down on the countertop.
He grabs your toothbrush and some toothpaste, and gently tells you to open, which you sleepily do. He's extra careful, making sure to get every tooth he can, scrubbing softly as to not make you uncomfortable. Silence, save for the bristles on the toothbrush, fills the room, the corner of Tetsuro's tongue sticking out in focus.
"Okay. Spit," he says, moving so you can comfortably turn your head and spit the froth out. Skincare comes next, and his touch is even softer as he massages in every product you use.
"Good girl," he whispers, picking you back up to carry you to bed. "My good girl. Good, brave girl..."
You drift off in his arms at his praise, not even feeling the way he gets you into pajamas or gets you under the covers, the exhaustion of the constant high of anxiety weighing you down.
Waking up this morning, your bones feel like bricks under the wall of your muscles, barely able to move under the force of it all. Your skin feels like paper, so hyper aware of it now that youâve had the time to come down from your anxious state. You blink up at your ceiling, eyelids tight as you do, and you continue to stare and let your body wake up molecule by molecule, inch by inch. You feel it coming to life, and you slowly bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyesockets to force the rest of the sleep out of your eyes.
When your hand then drops next to you, you feel yourself grow saddened at the lack of warmth. Tetsuroâs been out of bed long enough to let his side cool down, and it makes you want to cry at the idea of being alone right now.
You never shouldâve shut him down last night. All he wanted to do was help, and you shut him up and made him feel bad, now heâs not even in bed with you anymore, and you feel tears sting at your eyes again, this time out of anxiety of making him upset, and-
âAh, youâre up.â
Your guilty, howling mind shuts up as soon as tetsuroâs body makes its way into the doorway, smiling and stirring his tea with a spoon. âGood morning, babygirl.â He takes a step into the bedroom and before you know it, heâs at your side, sitting on the bed next to you. He uses his free arm to wrap around you, but not pull you to his chest. âDid you sleep okay?â
âNo,â you whimper, voice croaky. He nods and lets his thumb rub up and down the curve of your shoulder. âIâm sorry I yelled at you last night.â
His brow cocks in confusion, âhuh?â
Now, finally, you turn to face him, âI snapped at you⊠I told you to-â
âYou told me you didnât want a pep talk,â he chuckles, shaking his head. âThatâs okay. Youâre allowed to tell me that my words might not be the most helpful. Iâm not going to get mad at you for that. Itâs not like you told me to shut my ugly ass up- youâd never do that, Iâm too pretty.â
This, for the first time in what feels like days, has you crack a smile. You let out a small laugh, breathy and barely there, but he smiles proudly all the same, pulling you in for a hug now. âYouâre a goof,â you murmur.
âAnd you, need to eat something,â he whispers against your head, and you deflate in his arms again. âDonât you protest me, you know you have to eat something.â
ââM not hungry,â you say.
âI know, but you didnât eat last night, and I let you sleep in-â at his words, your eyes flick to the clock on your nightstand, red numbers flicked onto 10:24. âYou have to have something.â
âBut-â
âI know,â he says. âDo you want something sweet, or savory?â
20 questions. Itâs something he does after a fit of your anxiety to try and make your life just a hair easier, decisions quicker, and your day just a bit brighter because youâre getting exactly what you want. He claims he used to do it with kenma, hence why heâs so good at it.
âUhmâŠâ you shrug, âwhy not both?â
âBoth?â He echos. âOkay. Do you want fruit?â You nod. He nods with you. âOkay. How about a bagel?â You nod again. âOkay. With some cream cheese?â You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, âbutter?â You shake your head again, âokay. Uhmmmm-â
âI want to do it,â you mumble, and he presses a kiss to your head.
âYou sure? Because I can whip something up-â
âI have to do it. I have to put the toppings on my bagel.â
He nods a final time and squeezes you close, âokay. If you need any help deciding, Iâm right here, okay? Iâll be cutting your fruit.â
You hum and slowly swing your legs out of the bed, stretching and mewling from the force. When your hand instinctively darts for your phone, he clicks his tongue, "leave it. You don't need it right now."
"But-"
"I told your family to text me if they need you. Your phone is on do not disturb. Leave it there, babe." He swings his own long legs over and extends a hand out to you, wiggling his fingers enticingly for you to hold. When you grab three of them, he smiles and slowly leads you into the kitchen.
The news is playing on tv at a low volume, thereâs a discarded blanket on the couch, and you quirk a brow in intrigue, âtetsu, how did you know I was awake?â
He shrugs, âmy life shifts when you wake up for the day. I feel it in my soul.â
âEw.â
âShaddup.â
You laugh again, smiling a weak smile as you plop down at the table. He makes his way to begin cooking your bagel, popping it in the toaster before making his way to cut up your fruit. You sigh and play with your fingers, wondering if you should make conversation, or let silence rule, and you sigh shakily before opening your mouth to speak. âWhatâre you going to have?â
âI, my love, already ate some toast with some apple jelly and butter.â
âOh.â
âBut Iâm going to pick at some fruit with you, because I donât want you eating alone.â
âYou donât have to do that-â
âI know,â he hums. Then, he turns to face you with a smile. âI want to.â
Your heart flutters as you smile at him, looking down at your fingers to distract yourself. Usually, youâd be scrolling through your social media, checking apps and emails, but since he forbade it, youâre left to listen to him sing softly and the newscaster drone on and on. After a few short minutes, your bagel pops, and he plates it with some sliced fruit and places it in front of you, before kissing your head and grabbing various toppings for it.
Breakfast drags, but in a comforting way, where it drips by so slow like honey, syrupy sweet as Tetsuro talks. He talks about everything and anything, about the game Kenma's going to stream for charity, and the funny meme he sent the streamer- or funny to Tetsuro at least, as allegedly Kenma left him on read. You find yourself eating at his company, and before you know it, your bagel, juice, and fruit is gone. You look down at your plate in surprise, and he wiggles his brows at you, "feel better, angel?"
"Uhm... yeah," you say, almost confused. "I didn't think I was that hungry."
"I don't care how you thought, I'm glad you ate." He stands out of his chair with a stretch, "you still hungry? I can make you another-"
"No," you sigh. "I... I really should check my email-"
"Not until I give you a bath and a massage."
You quirk your brow, "you're going to give me a bath and a massage?"
"Of course," he chuckles, "If you're too anxious to give yourself some self care, that's plenty fine, but that means I'm going to give you self care." He shrugs, "those are just the rules."
"Do you even know how to give a massage?"
"Bokuto and I used to massage each other after practice all the time." Your brow quirks higher, and he holds his hand up, "don't ask. Just trust me."
"Can Bokuto give me a massage?" You tease, giggling at the way he gives you a fake smile and a high pitched "no," to tease you.
He presses a kiss to your head, "I'm going to go run the bath, why don't you get changed and meet me in there?"
"Okay," you hum. He nudges your nose with a finger before stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When your hear the tub running, you make a dash towards the small office room for your laptop, nervous to check your email, and-
"I took it out!" He calls, followed by a cackle.
"You're an ass!"
"It's your favorite ass, though!"
You grumble and make your way to the bedroom to get undressed per his request, stealing one of his oversized shirt to conceal yourself until the tub is filled. You stalk into the bathroom and blush under the way his eyes glaze up and down you, "fuck, I love you in my clothes."
"Back off, I'm about to bathe," you snort.
"Yeah, but I can still find you hot." As the tub fills, he adds a scoop of epsom salt, and a splash of bathing bubbles, large bubbles brewing on the surface of the water. You smile and watch them shape and form, the sweet smell filling the air around you. You feel excitement brewing inside of you as you watch him turn off the water and push himself up and off the floor with the edge of the tub, "should do it, baby. I'm gonna let you soak, I'll set up for a little massage after, make you nice and comfortable.
"Okay," you mewl. He presses a kiss to your lips and makes his way to the door. "Hey, Tetsu?" You say, reaching for his hand, which he takes happily. "Thank you."
"Anything for you, babygirl," he whispers. "You know that." He pinches your cheek and leaves the bathroom for you to relax.
The bath water is warm as you soak in the epsom salt, feeling your muscles loosen and relish in the combination. You bury your face in the bubbles and close your sleepy eyes, letting the smells lull you into a state of relaxation. Your head is still heavy with anxiety, but your heart is full of love and warmth for your boyfriend.
You're not sure how long you were floating in silence, lost in the bubbles and oils, but he gently knocks on the door, "you okay? Haven't heard you for a bit."
"Yes," you mewl, stretching. The water is now chilly and the bubbles are mostly gone and you rub your hands over the surface of the water. "Is the massage stuff ready?" You tease, looking at your hands and wincing at how pruny they are.
"It's been ready, I didn't want to bother you," he snickers. âCome out when youâre ready, just wanted to make sure you were alive.â
âIâm alive, Iâm coming,â you call, getting out of the tub to dry yourself. You take your time drying off, trying to enjoy the last little bit of warmth clinging to your skin. You leave the bathroom to get dressed into some clean pajamas, smiling as tetsuro busies himself with the whole massage set up. âCandles? You spoil me.â
âThereâs a lot of smells going on,â he says with a face.
âI know I can tell,â you hum. Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and you make your way to the bed to wait for him.
âAlright-â he pats the bed for you to crawl on top of. âCâmere, let me pamper you.â
You giggle, âyou have been pampering me!â Regardless, you swing your legs onto the bed and lay on your stomach, squeaking as he straddles you and cracks his knuckles.
He lays a massive paw on each of your shoulders, using his thumb to splay and press the muscle under his force, and your eyes cross in the middle and flutter in relaxation. They work in circles to press into the muscles, before laying flat on your back to dig his heel into before his fingers press and roll back up to your shoulders.
Thick fingers roll over the knot in your right shoulder, no doubt from the refreshing of the page for hours on end last night. You whine and bury your face in the bed, and he hums, "I know beautiful, I almost got it."
"Feels good," you murmur.
"Told you it would," he says softly. âYou need to trust me.â
âI think I trust you too much,â you snicker. Tetsuro says nothing, merely offering you a laugh through his nose as he continues with the massage.
Your body twitches as the tips of his fingers dig into your side as part of the massage, but your snicker doesnât go unnoticed by your boyfriend. âSomething wrong?â He hums, doing it again.
"Tetsu!" You giggle, reaching behind you to try and stop his wrists, "that tickles!"
"That's crazy, I'm not tickling you," he snickers, and it's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "I mean, I can tickle you, if you want-"
"No!" You squeal, and your laughter turns choppy as he uses the sides of his hands to playfully chop up and down your back, making your body instinctively let out bumpy noises from your mouth.
âQuite an attitude on ya today,â he taunts, before hooking his fingers up under your arms, making you shriek, âokay, now Iâm tickling you.â
Your mind spins from the sensory change, the signals in your brain cross, but one thing is for certain:
The email is far from the front of your mind.
And it feels good to laugh.
#I wanted this to be longer Iâm sorry pookie đ„ș#but I didnât want to drag it Iâm sorry#I hope youâre feeling okay baby ily đ«¶đ»#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro x f!reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader fluff#kuroo tetsuro x you#kuroo tetsuro haikyuu#kuroo#kuroo fluff#kuroo x reader#kuroo x f!reader#kuroo x reader fluff#kuroo imagine#kuroo haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x f!reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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Sad-ist drew my old man đ„ș oughh đđ
#ARFHHDHDHD#I LOVE THE WAY SHE DREW THE HAIRRRR PURRRRR#NO WAIT I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS#RAGHHHH BLACK IS SAD'S ART STYLE I AM EATING DEVOURING#CONSUMING IT EVEN#GRRKKDJJDJDJS#Also i hope i drew Sad's Narrator alright đ„ș#I wanna do him justiceâI DON'T WANNA DRAW HIM HALF-ASS I LOVE HIM OKAY HE HAS TO BE EDIBLE#sad ist#clock 0ut#yellow zone#clock out#the stanley parable#the stanley parable ultra deluxe#tsp#tspud#narrator tsp#tsp narrator#tsp artists appreciation#narratorverse#mine đ#I got permission to post this here babes đ HELL YEAHH
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Sunday at the 2024 Singapore GP
#daniel ricciardo#autumn posts#2024 singapore gp#this is such a cute photo đđ#also thank you everyone who answered the poll!! excited to tinker with some photo collections this weekend!!#hopefully this much rumored announcement tomorrow fufills my wildest delusions hehe but really I just hope Daniel and team are happy đ„ș#okay back to work!!#sending everyone good energy đâš there it goes off into the web and right to u
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now i wake up by your sideâ
bakugou x f!reader
wc: 2.8k+
tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies
tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life đ„ș your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! đ„șđ©·âšïž
Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.
Itâs a beautiful sight, one youâve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like itâs you breathing instead of him, and itâs almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.
But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven youâd been lost to.Â
You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. Itâs the middle of the nightâor at least it was when youâd first wandered out to the training field, and you canât be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, youâve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirkâ but number five sits in pieces in the grass.
Youâll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.
Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see itâhear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.
Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?
During the day itâs easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyoneâs thoughtsâyou do it without trying, nowâbut your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye isâ
Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you arenât able to discern before itâs gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though youâre nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like youâre gripping your seatâgripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where youâd been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with theâ
âThe hell are you doinâ?â
Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that nightâshow over, credits rollingâand itâs Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.
You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. âOh, hey,â the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. âWhat did you say?â
Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like heâs offended at having to repeat himself. âI said, what the hell are you doinâ? Itâs nearly 2 in the morning and youâre out here throwinâ shit around in your fuckinâ pajamas.â
Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you donât know what they look like. The sweater youâre wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but itâs the comfiest thing you own and if youâre going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmatesâ dreamsâyou at least want to be cozy.
When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress.Â
It dawns on you then that heâs out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didnât know any better, youâd almost think his face was a little rosy, butâmaybe youâre seeing things.
Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like youâve done too many sit-ups.
You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know heâll clock that in no time, too. âWell, I could ask you the same thing.â At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. âBut I think maybe Iâll just mind my own business.â
The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishimaâs action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breakingâ
âOi.â
Bakugou is closer than before, when youâre grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.
âSorry,â you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. âItâs just soââ your hand feels like itâs made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. âSo loud sometimes.â
Heâs silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently heâs watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.
Again, you think of Kaminariâs horror movie, legs pressed against Minaâs under the heavy comforter sheâd brought down from her room. Itâs warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing youâd imagine a girl like her to haveâbut it didnât stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.
The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. âDreams and stuff,â you murmur, by way of an explanation, ânightmares, sometimes.â
Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. âWhat, you can justâŠhear that shit all night?â
âUsually,â you shrug, âIt just comes in, you know? And Iââ you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. âNot for you, though. I don'tâI don't get anything from you.â
And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionallyâsudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought.Â
Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.
It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try itâbut he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.
Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. âYou'reâI don't look in there, of course, but it'sâyou've always beenâŠâ Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. âPretty, I guess.â
Awful, at giving them.
Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. âPiss off,â he barks, and though heâs scowling at you in what must be disgustâyou canât help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.
You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome youâve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldnât mind dreaming about again and again.
The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.
You donât know if itâs from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. âIn here, I mean,â you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but itâs as genuine as ever. âI donât know, I donât know how you do it. But itâsâŠnice.â
Youâve seen him die a thousand times.
Mostly in Midoriyaâs dreams, sometimes in Eraserâs when he nods off during last period, but that horrorâlike many others, from that dayâstains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; youâre more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.
Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishimaâs torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like youâre dazzling, too.
And yetâBakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.
If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.
âWhenâs the last time you got any sleep?â
You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and itâs like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. âMaybe a morning or two ago,â you tell him truthfully, âI usually pass out after a few rounds of âthrowinâ shit aroundâ.â
Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once heâs gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess youâve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scarâthe one thatâs wide and still baby-pink across his cheek.Â
You almost get the guts to tell him heâs handsome. Almost.
Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. âCanât keep doinâ this,â he chastises. âCanât be a Hero if youâre half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.â
âI am,â you give a lazy wave to your pots, âWhatâs wrong with this solution?â
âIt's ass.â
âAlright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?â
He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, andâyouâre not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe itâs a good thing, you tell yourself, because youâre weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.
Despite his flush, thereâs a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy toneâand it has you leaning too far into things you donât know how to name.
You never know what to expect of him.
Thereâs the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between youâthe rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it werenât so warm.
Youâre afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. Youâre waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is heâs trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.
You focus andâall you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like heâs cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.
You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.
You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.
âAnd then there's nothing.
The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someoneâs head and thatâs always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until theyâre only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you
Thereâs just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didnât realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriyaâs memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.
Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else heâs sharingâor if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was differentâyou know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sportâs Festivalâbut now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon.Â
Returned, comforting and quiet.
(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.
Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckinâ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)
(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweaterâKatsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)
(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and heâs shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)
(You won't remember this but in your dreamâyour real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers youâthe morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)
(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can rememberâand he will, too.)
#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf#and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ??#SO I REWROTE IT LOL#i hope this is okay !! đ„ș#i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only#that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow#whenever he touches you#đ„ș#tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!!#literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm đ„ș#âż willow writes#âż one shot: bakugou
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"people died" and it's just a music video-
#the heart killers#firstkhao#kantbison#gmmtv#thai bl#bl drama#upcoming bl#DO YOU HEAR ME SQUEALING#like okay the song is bad#as expected from a gmmtv ost lmao#but the visuals????#excuse you#im not okay#only 3 more hours????????#goodbye#kant is the biggest goner but thats exactly what the novel says apparently#i hope they give him a bit more of a personality lmao#im so excited đ„ș
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