#of course he was going to be petty and let his emotions get in the way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bokunoheros · 1 month ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (keigo does talk ab making you a mommy tho, and you refer to yourself as his girlfriend once), reader is a civilian, this is pre-war, reader and keigo are dating, no lube no protection (all night all day), baby trapping lowk????, idk he nonconsensually cums in you and then proposes (you accept tho), creampies, cockwarming, kinda lazy ending?? idgaf GENRE: smut SUMMARY: it’s the start of mating season and keigo had just saved a mother and her child at work today, so it’s only natural for him to come home with the overwhelming need to knock you up. WORD COUNT: 2.6K 🦊’s A/N: keigo they could Never make me hate you…. anyway hope yall enjoy this fr

not only was today the first day of his rut, meaning his last day of hero work until the spring was over, but he had also gone out of his way to save a mother and her crying child while off-duty. he’d been heading home after an eventful and tiring patrol when he ran into them being threatened by a petty mugger—nothing he couldn’t handle, especially after the day he’d had, but he can imagine having a gun pointed to your face must be scary to an untrained civilian. now, he was brimming over with emotions, barely keeping his cool as he walks through the threshold of your shared home, slamming the door loudly behind him, wings all puffed up and ruffled.

“keigo? honey, what’s wron—” you’re suddenly cut off by a small flurry of his feathers sweeping you off your feet and carrying you from the kitchen towards where he stood in the living room, in the process of stepping out of his boots and shrugging his jacket off. you’re immediately taken aback by his serious demeanor and you open your mouth to say something, except that no words come out. what should you say?

“how was your day..?” you ask tentatively after a brief moment of silence.

rather than verbally answering you, he lets out a long, drawn out sigh and shakes his head — a response you’re unfamiliar with. usually, he isn’t afraid to yap for at least fifteen minutes about how his day went, what happened, and sometimes even the people or fellow pros he talked to! so for him to remain silent…. well, it’s safe to say you’re starting to get worried.

had you done something wrong? was today exceptionally challenging? your heart rate increases as your anxious thoughts swirl around in your foggy mind, and you don’t know where to go from here.

keigo knew what to do, though; he knew exactly how to relieve this stress.

taking a step in your direction, he narrows his eyes, intense, predatory gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, he’s leaning in for a kiss as he backs you up against the nearest wall.

the way he kisses you is controlled and barely put together, and you can tell he’s on edge, like he’s about to snap, so you say what you think he needs to hear.

“you can rough me up a bit, kei, i promise i won’t break.”

his eyes fly open at your words before narrowing as he nods before leaning back in with much more passion and any restraint right out the window. but he himself has said it before, he’s awful—he has no self-control; something that rang especially true when it came to you.

he’s spent whole evenings with his head buried between your thighs, eating you out until you’re crying and begging him to stop, saying it hurts, it hurts!, to which he always asks you for just one more. “one more” never meant one more, of course—keigo was greedy in this sense. he could never seem to get enough of you, always wanting more, more, more. if he could, he’d devour you whole, make you his entirely, and—that’s exactly what he was going to do tonight. he had been planning to propose for a while now, anyway. he had a ring and everything! he’d.. just been working up the courage to ask. so, then what better way than by deciding to knock you up on a whim.

well, …was it really a whim if he had fantasized about it before? the two of you had been dating since the summer of last year, meaning you haven’t seen him during his ruts yet, and, while he’s mentioned it briefly in the past, he didn’t actually expect to last this long with you so he never divulged the details of it—not because he wasn’t in love with you, but because he gave up on the dating scene because he’s always the one being dumped for being so. so. !!!! outwardly nonchalant about most things! or being married to his work, whatever they meant by that; he only worked so hard so he could have a future to relax in! no one ever seemed to understand that…. until he met you.

something just clicked between the two of you upon your first meeting—you were probably the most interesting person hawks had ever saved, be it your quirk, your personality and mannerisms, or even something as simple as a remark you had made in the five something minutes it took to save you; he found himself unable to get you out of his head for days afterwards, eventually causing him to seek you out to ask a bewildered you on a date—just one, he had originally said.

you said yes immediately for a multitude of reasons—he was fine as fuck, he’d literally saved your life the other day, not to mention he was witty, and spoke his mind, too—something keigo hadn’t been expecting. he knew all of the above things, and yet, found himself somewhat nervous as he handed you a bouquet of pale red carnations, red camellias, and baby’s breath. he’d stayed up all night researching flower language and symbolism, deciding on the perfect ones to give to you, as he knew it was rude to show up to somebody’s house empty-handed, and, also, because… he’d never really felt this way about anyone before. there was something so magnetic between the two of you….

but that’s enough reminiscing—he needs to be in the present moment, needs to focus on fucking you so good you go braindead on his dick, focus on cumming so deep in you, there’s no way you couldn’t not be pregnant with his child. keigo understood that having children as the number two pro hero would be no easy feat, but he thinks with you by his side, he can do anything.

sliding his tongue over the seam of your lips, one gloved hand comes up to squish your cheeks enough to force your lips to part for him and he easily slips the wet muscle into your mouth, taking his time sliding it along the insides of your cheeks, the grooves of your teeth, and the roof of your mouth, carefully exploring every inch and committing it to memory (as if he hadn’t already).

meanwhile, his other hand settles on your hip, massaging it lightly for a moment before his grip quickly tightens and he’s coaxing your tongue out of your mouth and into his as he begins to suck on it.

“mmh,” you hum pleasantly, starting to drool as you let keigo decide how to use you in order to relieve his stress.

“missed ya t’day, dove,” he murmurs against your lips before nipping at your tongue and you feel your heart flutter. what had gotten into him? you weren’t necessarily complaining, but you still felt a little worried about him if you were being totally honest.

keigo, sensing your unease, slowly pulls away from the kiss to ask if something was wrong, just for you to deflect the question back onto him.

“‘m fine, it was just a long day is all,” he tells you in earnest, leaving out the part about the beginning of his rut. “need’a feel you s’bad, though,” he breathes out, moving to kiss you again; tilting his head, he slots his lips back over yours, and it feels like he’s going to eat you alive. and, truthfully, he just might.

before you even realize what he’s doing, he’s picking you up, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist, and carrying you into the bedroom where he’s pinning you to the mattress, wings spread wide for you to admire as you look up at him. you’re sure his words held a bit of truth to them, but he was behaving a little oddly for reasons you couldn’t put together yet.

him being a horny little shit wasn’t the unusual bit, but rather, his upbeat demeanor was nowhere to be found—even if it was an act almost all the time, it still felt weird to see him so serious looking.

“kei…”

“shh, stop worrying, sweets,” he shushes you, leaning in for another hungry kiss. you oblige him of course, parting your lips and poking your tongue out to meet his as you close your eyes

his large wings create an almost dome around the two of you, shutting out the world, only leaving room for the two of you, and not another soul.

perhaps it would be best to sit back, relax, and let your boyfriend play with you… so that’s exactly what you do, settling fully onto the soft bed and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer—something that had him smirking against your soft lips.

it’s not long before you’re both naked, having grown too hot for the unnecessary layers separating your bare bodies, and soon, you suddenly have a pillow tucked under your hips, keeping them at an angle—something that confuses you.

“keigo?”

“just relax, dove.”

he leans in closer, bringing his lips to yours as his one hand grasps at your hip, blunt nails (that he has to trim daily, mind you, lest they grow into talons) digging into the tender flesh there while his other grabs at his leaky cock, tapping it against your clit a couple times before lining it up with your slit and slowly pushing in, doing his best to show restraint and not bottom out in one fluid motion. you both groan at the feeling, the stretch so deep you almost feel nauseous.

bringing two fingers down to your pulsing clit, he rubs semi-rough circles against the little bud, trying his hardest not to overwhelm you, but needing to hurry up and get you off so he can stuff you full of his cum.

“mmmh,” you moan quietly as he focuses on working you up to your first orgasm out of many for the long night he had planned for you.

it’s not long before you’re cumming with a cry and suddenly, keigo’s got his dick lined up with your slick little hole, easing himself in as he bites his bottom lip, trying not to whimper.

“fuuuck, you’re so tight, sweets,” he groans, rocking his hips into your, unkempt pubes brushing against your neatly trimmed ones.

your hands come up to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, before you’re tugging at his wings, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“don’t,” is all he’s able to get out, burying his face in the crook of your neck, where he begins sucking and biting at the skin there.

“why not?” you grin like an idiot, already knowing the answer. you knew damn well just how sensitive keigo’s wings were—already having had this discussion when you first started having sex and you went to grab at them for the first time.

“don’t ask stupid questions when you know the answer, dove,” he warns.

you, ever the brat, decide to start stroking on his wings, and you feel his hips stutter and teeth sink into the column of your throat.

“nngh–!” you whine, tugging on the bright red feathers. keigo moans loudly at this, and quickly grabs the backs of your thighs to fold you in half and start fuckin’ pounding into you—his thrusts are fast and sloppy, and the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin turns you on even more, pussy drooling around his dick.

it doesn’t take long before keigo’s cumming deep inside you without warning, something that has your eyes flying open.

“k–keigo–! y– you just— you..!” the words aren’t there as panic begins to settle in. something you had both agreed on before you started fucking was that even if you did it raw, he had to pull out—kids were a big no for the both of you.

but here was your boyfriend, fucking you throughout his orgasm and working his way up to a second as he looks down at you with a gaze so intense, you feel small beneath him.

tugging at his wings again, you cry out his name as he fucks his cum into you, just for him to ignore your pathetic mewls and pleas.

“k– kei—!”

“gonna knock y’up so good—g’nna— fuck— g’nna make you a mommy—”

your face flushes deeply at his words—is this what had gotten into him? the urge to breed you? knock you up?

“f–fuck!” you pull at his wings, rolling your hips upwards as best you can as he desperately ruts into you. this triggers keigo’s second orgasm, his pelvis pressing flush against yours as he cums hard.

“nngh—! hnnmg—fuck,” keigo moans as his hips still while he spills another load deep within you. “shit— y’feel so fuckin’ good, baby—”

this continues for what seems like ever, but in reality is maybe fifteen minutes of your boyfriend fucking into you until he physically can’t cum anymore, until tears are running down his cheeks from how overstimulated he is, and he’s collapsing on top of you with a tired sigh.

“k–keigo— we— we can’t—” can’t what? “‘m gonna get pregnant— y’gotta let me get up,” you try to say, shoving at his chest; but it was no use, he was dead weight.

“good,” he says breathlessly, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“n–no! not good! i— we’re only dating! what would the media think if they found out the number two pro hero went and knocked his girlfriend up?!” your concern is genuine, but also stems from selfish reasons. you’re sure the reporters would hound you the moment they caught a whiff of something fishy, and—

“then marry me.” his words are so serious sounding that they immediately break you out of your own mind and your eyes go wide with shock and awe. had he seriously just. proposed?! while still being balls deep in you!?

“huh!?” you sound just as caught off guard as you look, and keigo cranes his neck up to look at you, expression the most serious you’d ever seen it. …okay, so he obviously wasn’t joking around, but, but–!

“you heard me. …i’d been meaning to get you a ring for a little while now, but couldn’t find one i thought you might like, so…..” his cheeks are flushed and face sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead as he gazes at you so tenderly, your heart can’t help but feel full.

“i— keigo, i…” he waits patiently as you fumble with your words. “yes,” finally falls from your lips, a grin tugging at the corners of them.

unable to say anything else, you cup his cheeks with both hands and press kisses all over his handsome face before you slot your lips over his and lean in slowly, almost teasingly.

keigo, ever impatient, leans in to close the gap, one large hand coming to cradle the back of your head as his hips twitch and he pushes further into you, causing the disgusting amount of cum stuffed in your cunt to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and drip down to your puckered asshole. after that, it doesn’t take much longer for keigo to fuck you both to sleep.

and that’s how you found yourself in the exact same position one year later, having put your first child to bed no less than an hour ago, with your now husband pinning you to your shared mattress, talking about how he wants a second kid—how beautiful you looked pregnant the first time, and how he’d love to see you like that again. so, he makes it happen. and then one more time after that.

return to KINKTOBER | PRO HERO M.LIST

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zeltqz · 8 months ago

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call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working.

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off.

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired.

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom.

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem.

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice.

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said.

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.”

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

#—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #haitani ran smut #ran smut #ran haitani smut

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queensunshinee · 2 months ago

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His favorite toy || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, super toxic relationship, reader is kinda pathetic :(

Word Count: 3.4k

His favorit toy

Sometimes I think he was born to be in love with her, just like I was born to be in love with him. Unconditionally, without consequences. Just like that, love. And it’s not fair that someone can take so much from you and give back so little. It’s not fair that someone can control your entire range of emotions and yet not be affected by them. It’s not fair that Art Donaldson was born to revolve around Tashi Duncan while I was born for the leftovers he allows himself to leave for me.

“You can stay,” I mumbled as he started getting dressed. “I wish I could, I’ve got morning practice tomorrow,” he said without looking at me. ‘That didn’t stop you from coming inside me,’ I wanted to retort but just nodded and turned my back to him. He stopped dressing for a moment, and I knew he was looking at me, wondering if this time would be the time I’d stop letting him emotionally abuse me. Wondering if this would be the time I’d tell him that if he didn’t stay, he could go find someone else to fuck.

“Baby, I’d love to stay,” he sat at the edge of the bed and gave my shoulder a little shake. “It’s not a big deal, Art. You’re a big boy, you can do whatever you want,” I mumbled toward him. And it sounded petty and bitter. But I felt petty and bitter. I could feel the bitterness on the tip of my tongue. I could feel the sag of the crappy dorm bed swallowing me up. “I want to stay, of course I do,” his voice was fake. Like he was talking to a baby who didn’t understand circumstances or an adult’s schedule. “You know I want to,” he continued, this time planting a small kiss on the shoulder he had shaken earlier.

“When someone wants something, they do it. You wanted to fuck me, you fucked me. You wanted to come inside me, you came. You want to leave, you’re leaving. Just don’t excuse it with morning practice, you’re making me feel like an idiot,” I mumbled. He was silent, not expecting that little monologue. Not expecting that I’d finally tell him he’s acting like an asshole. “I don’t think I’m making you feel that way, you’re making yourself feel that way,” he sighed and stood up, going back to getting dressed while I lay on my back. “Are you serious?” I shot back.

“We don’t have to do this, I’m not forcing you to sleep with me, and if it’s making you feel this bad, we really don’t need to.” He said in a calm, almost calculated tone. Clear of emotions. I rolled my eyes in response and turned away again, not wanting to look at him anymore. “I’m gonna go, I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” he asked, and I felt his lips brush against my hair before he left. And if it weren’t for his smell buried in the pillow and his cum still dripping from me with every movement, I would’ve been sure I imagined him. And in my imagination, he was beautiful and sweet and mine. More than anything, mine.

In statistics class, for a change, I sat next to Janet and Shane, and I could feel Art’s blue eyes boring into my back. Usually, I wait for him with coffee at the back of the auditorium. That’s how we met—he was late to class one day, and the only open seat was next to me. He was funny and charming, almost shy when he asked for notes before the first exam. Almost embarrassed the first time I placed a cup of coffee on his desk when he arrived. Almost apologetic the first time he kissed me.

And for a change, I didn’t waste extra money I don’t even have to buy him a cup of coffee. For a change, I sat with friends I hadn’t spoken to in a while. And for a change, I let him wonder if it was over or if I was bluffing. His eyes were glued to me the whole lecture—neither of us was listening to what the professor was saying, and I know it’s going to come back to bite me.

“Are you going to be mad at me for much longer?” I heard a voice from behind me as I walked down the hall, engrossed in my phone. “I’m not mad at you, Art,” I mumbled without stopping. His strides were longer than mine, and he didn’t have to try too hard to catch up. “So why’d you switch seats?” I could guess he was rolling his eyes, but I didn’t look at him. “Because I wanted to sit with Janet and Shane,” I replied. “Since when are you friends with Janet and Shane?” he asked. “If you ever bothered to ask who my friends are, you’d know I’m friends with Janet and Shane,” I stopped this time and looked at him. He looked composed, like a lawyer who had prepared his most persuasive argument.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I had practice at five in the morning, Peaches.” He sighed, looking at me with big eyes. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over this. We never argue.” He stepped closer to me, and I backed away until there was nowhere left to go. Around us, students rushed to their classes or dorms while I was trapped between Art Donaldson and a concrete wall. “We’re not arguing, Art. I just needed a break,” I replied, feeling less sure of myself as his breaths nearly blended with mine. “A break from what?” his hands brushed against my cheeks. “You know what,” I wondered if he could hear the desperation screaming in my voice too. “Baby,” he sighed. “You don’t need a break. It’s just a busy period.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You can’t keep being mad at me, come on, Peaches,” he said in a playful tone. “Look how cute I am.” He chuckled and nibbled on my earlobe.

“We’re in the middle of the hallway,” I mumbled, feeling myself smile uncontrollably, giving in to his goofiness. “I don’t care. You can’t stay mad at me anymore.” This time we both chuckled. “Here we go,” he continued, and his lips found mine for a short kiss. “I need you,” he declared, and I nodded into his shirt. He needs me, how could I refuse that?

Turns out, it was easier than I thought to take a break from Art Donaldson. All that mattered to him and his ego was knowing that I wasn’t actively mad at him. That he wasn’t the bad guy in the story. That he was okay.

In the following two weeks, I kept sitting next to him in statistics until he found another seat and texted me a simple, 'Haven’t seen Dylan in a while' as an excuse, and I smiled at him without showing my teeth. From being inside me three times a week and whispering in my ear that I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever known, he stopped looking me in the eyes and acted as if we barely knew each other.

And it was almost okay, because that’s what I told him I wanted. He was the one who insisted he needed me.

A month passed, and life returned to an almost-normal routine—going from classes to work, to hanging out on Janet’s rooftop. “You know what annoys me?” I asked, taking a drag from the cigarette rolled with weed she’d prepared. “What annoys you?” she asked, chuckling. “That he looks so damn good.” I said, and her chuckle turned into full laughter. “Oh, yeah, the star of Stanford’s tennis team looks good; that’s usually how it goes with athletes,” she said, half-sarcastically. “I’m telling you, if he didn’t look so good, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off half the shit he put me through,” I added and coughed after another drag. “Oh god, you need a new hookup. I can’t hear any more about Art Donaldson.” Janet couldn’t stop laughing. “Do you think the sky is green?” she suddenly asked, staring at the clouds. “No, I think you’ve smoked too much green,” I gave her a little shove that knocked her sideways as we both laughed.

That’s how we found ourselves at a party later that night. We didn’t exactly know whose party it was, but a friend of a friend texted Janet, and that was enough to go. She fixed the makeup that had smudged around my eyes just before we walked in. I was wearing her black dress, which was at least one size too small for me, and I had to keep pulling it down every few seconds. “Stop it, you look hot. You’re just overthinking it. Go with the flow.” She pulled me inside, and I nodded as we walked. Just go with the flow. What could happen if I just go with the flow?

One beer turned into two and a shot of gin. By that point, half the night felt like a blur, and the other half felt dizzying, but I was dancing with Janet and Shane, who had joined us, and eventually, I went outside to smoke a cigarette and get some air.

Someone handed me a cup, and I looked to the side, seeing Art. “It’s water,” he mumbled. “Thanks,” I replied. “Are you having fun?” he asked, his gaze not leaving me. “Yeah, you?” I asked back. “Yeah,” his voice was calm, “You usually don’t like things like this,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “What’s your point?” I asked, feeling my patience wearing thin with the weird small talk. “What are you doing here, I guess?” he asked quietly. “I can go to a fucking party, Art,” I felt my jaw clench with frustration. “I didn’t say you couldn’t—” “So what are you saying?” I cut him off.

“I just said I’m not used to seeing you at parties, that’s all,” he muttered.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Are you coming inside? Who’s this?” Tashi Duncan’s voice was as familiar as her face. She hosted Stanford’s sports program, which they probably forced her to do. Her and Art’s posters were plastered everywhere. “Oh, this is (Y/N), she’s in my statistics class,” Art said quickly, and Tashi nodded. “Nice, is he any good at it?” she asked, half-joking, like someone who's trying to break the ice in a situation she’d stumbled into. “No, he’s shitty. My friends are waiting for me, thanks for the water,” I replied and went back inside without looking back, wondering if this is what it feels like when your heart breaks. If from now on, every time I see Art Donaldson, it’ll shatter a little more.

I sat on the couch, as Shane had told me to, when someone sat next to me. I turned slowly because I couldn’t manage more than that. “Hey,” he had green eyes and blond hair, “I’m Luke,” he offered a hand for a handshake. “We had Intro to Economics together last semester,” he added with a smile. “Oh,” was all I could manage to say back. “We’re also in a few classes together now. You sit one row below me in Micro,” he continued, and I just stared at the guy talking to me.

“Did we talk before?” I asked. “Sorry if that’s rude, I’m just drunk,” I quickly added, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. I was just trying to recall my interactions with people, and I didn’t remember him. He looked good enough that I should’ve remembered him. “Actually, no. You always seem in your own world, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, still smiling. “I see,” I said. “Actually, no. What do you mean, in my own world? I’m right here in your world, you know,” I kept talking faster than I probably should. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. You’re just usually either with friends or scribbling something,” I saw he got nervous.

“Well,” I tried to remember his name, “Luke, you can always talk to me. I’m usually bored in those classes anyway,” I laughed, and he laughed too, clearly feeling relieved. “Can I get your number?” he asked. “Just in case we make plans or something,” he quickly added when he saw the surprised look on my face. I handed him my phone, and I couldn’t tell if the warmth spreading through my cheeks was from the alcohol or the situation. “You have a message from Art Donaldson,” he said, handing my phone back after adding his number. And just like that, the momentary euphoria ended. Art had to remind me at every possible moment that he existed.

If there’s something Art hates, it’s being ignored. Being left on ‘read.’ I guess that’s why he knocked on my door at 3 AM, incredibly drunk. “Your dress is so pretty,” he mumbled, reciting the message he sent me earlier at the party. “Art, it’s really late—” “He’s flirting with you because your dress is pretty,” he recited the next message. I memorized them so well that I could recite them along with him. “Because you’re pretty,” he continued to the next message. “I’m sorry I introduced you like that, I panicked,” the next message. “You’re not just someone who studies statistics with me,” another message. “Art—” I tried to interrupt the show in front of me. “I really am shitty,” he continued. “Are you done?” I asked, even though I knew the answer, that was the last message he sent.

“Did you lose your phone or something, Peaches?” he asked, half-laughing, half-sarcastic. “You’re drunk,” I sighed. “You didn’t answer me. I thought something happened,” he mumbled. “Liar,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re right, I knew nothing happened. I thought you were fucking that new guy you found,” he shot back. “Wow, Art, you think amazing things about me. You really know me well,” I returned sarcastically. “Anything else?” I asked, ignoring the fact that he was getting closer to me with giant steps. “I missed you, Peach,” he mumbled, his breath, which smelled like his usual gum and beer, mixing with mine again.

“So why did you disappear on me?” I asked. And it came out more desperate than I planned. More pathetic than I expected. I could imagine the smirk spreading on his smug face as I closed my eyes. “You asked for a break. I just gave you what you asked for. I couldn’t hold back today though, you were so beautiful, Peach. The most beautiful at that shitty party. So, the break’s over, okay?” he said, and in his drunk mind, it was probably a logical sentence. His lips brushed against mine, and finally, he kissed me like a starving man who stumbled upon his favorite meal. He had never kissed me like this. He was always gentle in his movements, calculated in every shift.

Not this time. His hands brushed over every part of my body they could reach, I don’t know how I found myself without the shirt I was sleeping in, but I stood in front of him only in my underwear, and he took a step back, looking at me in the dark, as if he was an expert in night vision. As if he was trying to capture me in his memory. “You’re drunk,” I said again. “Not even close,” he replied. “Please, Peach. I’ll be good. I need you,” his kisses went down to my neck, and he led me to the bed. Everything was sloppy and messy, but I found myself under him in seconds, with him also already without a shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. And that was the usual mantra, he says all the right words and touches all the right places. He knows what makes me tick. He knows what gives me chills and which position I like best. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes, as if waiting for me to blink. Then his lips covered them, gently, and if someone had seen the scene from the side, they might dare to think it was love. “Fuck, baby, I’ll make you happy. You want that? You want me?” he asked, pulling away from me for a second and looking at me with half-plea, in almost mania.

“Yes, Art,” I said quietly. “Yes, what?” he asked with his typical determination. “Yes, I want you,” I returned, running a gentle hand over his face, and he repositioned himself over me. “That’s my girl,” he groaned. “I missed you so much. How needy you are. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll help you. I’ll give you what you need,” his hand pinched my left nipple, and I felt like he was punishing me for the last month. “Mmm Art,” it came out as half-whimper, half-cry. “Shhhh, you can take it, right? You missed this?” he asked, and I nodded. “Of course you can, a slut like you, a month without her favorite cock, my poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he said, and I felt his hand, the one not torturing my chest, settle between my legs. “Art,” another half-moan, half-whimper.

“Fuck, Peach, you’re so wet,” he chuckled nastily and pushed my panties aside, not waiting too long before he slipped two fingers where I needed him. “Oh my god,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “No no, look at me. Eyes on me.” He bit my neck and pinched my chest harder. I felt my whole body tighten, and I tried to keep quiet so as not to wake the entire dorm hall. “You’re so easy, Peach,” he said while I clenched around his hand. “Uh-huh, fuck, Art,” I tried to catch his mouth with mine in a half-movement, and he moved his face away with a chuckle, as if trying to prove how pathetic I was now. “Please,” I mumbled. “Please what?” he asked, again close to my face. “Please, kiss me,” I gave in, unable to act like a woman who respects herself. Within seconds, his lips were on mine, and his cock was inside me, filling me. “There you go,” he mumbled into my lips, stroking my hair with one hand and holding my hand with the other. The sad truth is, we’ve never fucked like this. It’s always in the most complicated positions you can think of, never missionary, never in a way that would confuse me into thinking that maybe Art Donaldson loves me.

“You’re so good, baby,” he said, thrusting as deep as he could. Slowly. As if he had all the time in the world. “I missed you. It was like losing a limb, losing your pussy,” another deep thrust. “But you’re mine again, right?” he asked, and all I could do was nod while his hand left mine and started making circles on my clit. His rhythm became chaotic, and he looked at me with a look that told me he was close. “I know, baby,” I mumbled, holding onto his neck, and he nodded. “I think I love you,” he mumbled into my lips with closed eyes. “I love you too,” I whispered. His cum filled me, just like every time since the first time he came inside me.

He kissed me again and stayed inside me for a few more seconds, his weight almost crushing me before he pulled out of me and moved to the side, placing my head on his chest, trying to find a comfortable position on the awful dorm bed. We both panted heavily as his hand made small movements through my hair. “I’ll get you something to clean up…” he mumbled, and I nodded, a bit stunned. Because that wasn’t a typical Art move. He never thought about it deeply enough. He threw a shirt he picked up from the floor at me and studied me for a moment as he started getting dressed.

“You’re not staying?” I asked and sighed. “I can’t, I have practice in the morning,” he replied. And just when I thought something had changed, Art and I stayed exactly the same.

Hey there guys, it's been a while since I wrote anything and as much as I love TTOOL, and I love the story deeply, I wanted to explore a new concept. It's the first time I have written in a xreader style, so I hope it turned out OK. Can't wait to hear your thoughts, it's my favorite part 💜

Using the taglist from the main story, hopefully you'll like that too: @lydiaxkirby @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#challengers fic #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson smut

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 1 month ago

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hii!!

can i request a kinda angsty fix where the reader and jude got into a stupidish fight and jude knows he’s in the wrong and tries to apologize but the reader just wants some fresh air and when she goes out a man is like following her and being creepy and she has to call jude to come get her.

i think it’d be cute to end kinda fluffy with apologies and kisses to make up.

p.s luv your work<3

a/n: thank you so much for your request, I loved writing this. I hope you like it!

MIDNIGHT APOLOGIES

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language and the lack of originality in the title.

summary: After a petty fight with Jude, you step outside for some fresh air, despite his insistence that you don´t. Alone at night, you feel a stranger following you and you call your boyfriend in fear. When he arrives, your emotions run high, leading to heartfelt apologies and sweet moments together.

It was one of those nights that felt off from the very beginning. Jude had come home late from training, and you were already on edge after a rough day at work. The tension had been simmering for a while, and it didn’t take much for it to boil over. It started with something small—something so ridiculous, neither of you would even remember the cause by the next day. Maybe it was about him leaving his stuff everywhere or you being short with him. Either way, it turned into something bigger than it needed to be.

“Jude, it is not that difficult to pick up your stuff,” you’d said, your voice tight with frustration. “It’s like you’re always leaving it there for me to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He was also tired after training and your bad mood didn’t help. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he muttered. “I’ll get to it later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You always say you’ll ‘get to it,’ but you never do, Jude. I feel like I’m doing everything, and you’re just… I don’t know...”

He huffed, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “I’m tired, you know? Training is intense right now, and I just need some time to relax when I get home. Not your naggings.”

“And what about me? I’m tired too. I’ve had a horrible day, and you are not helping.” You hated how emotional your voice sounded, like you were right on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something serious, but you were exhausted—exhausted of feeling unheard.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know you're upset, but I’m doing my best—”

“No, Jude. You’re not,” you cut him off, the words sharper than you meant. “You’re not even trying.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken tension between you. Jude’s jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying to bite back whatever he wanted to say. He knew he was in the wrong—knew he had been neglecting your needs, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. At least, not yet.

After a few more moments of the suffocating quiet, you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I need some air," you muttered, grabbing your jacket from the chair and heading toward the door.

Jude straightened up from his position alarmed, his eyes following you. "This late? Babe, it's not safe out there right now."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, turning to look at him. "I just need to cool off for a few minutes, Jude. If I stay here I’ll probably end up saying something I’ll regret."

His concern flickered across his face, but he held his tongue. Normally, he would’ve insisted you stay—that you work it out right then and there. But he knew this situation was his fault and that you would take his advice as a rude order. He didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. So, with a tight nod, he let you go, though the tension in his body was evident.

“Fine,” he muttered quietly, biting his tongue. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You didn’t respond, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. As soon as you were outside, the weight on your chest lightened slightly. The cool breeze was a relief against your heated skin, and you walked with no particular direction in mind, just wanting to clear your head.

But as you wandered further away from your apartment, that feeling of relief slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else—a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart speeding up when you noticed a man a few steps behind you. His pace matched yours, and even though he wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, there was something unsettling about his presence. You quickened your steps, trying to shake him off, but he did the same, closing the distance slightly.

You turned right onto a street, expecting the man to continue straight ahead. However, your heart began to race in your chest when the man not only imitated you, but also quickened his pace.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively moved to your phone in your pocket. You fumbled with it for a second before dialing Jude’s number from memory, your fingers shaking.

He picked up after the first ring, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Jude," you whispered quietly, your voice trembling. "There's… there's a guy. I think he's following me."

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear Jude moving, probably grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell me where are you." His voice was sharp now, all traces of your earlier fight gone. You quickly rattled off the nearest street signs, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued walking rapidly.

"Stay on the phone with me," he said firmly. "I'm coming to get you. Don't look back—just keep walking towards the main road. I'll be there in five minutes."

You did as he said, your feet moving faster as you tried to reach a more populated area, but it was difficult due to these hours. Your heart was racing, but hearing Jude’s voice kept you grounded. You kept walking, glancing around nervously, but soon enough, you spotted him, his face set in a mixture of anger and concern. The man behind you seemed to realize what was happening and quickly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone.

Jude reached you in moments, pulling you into his arms without a word. You could feel how tense he was, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you close and tight.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You nodded, your face buried in his chest as you answered him. "Yeah… I just got scared."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself. I knew it wasn’t safe, but I didn’t want to argue more. That was on me."

You shook your head, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "No, no. It’s not your fault. I just needed some space, but I shouldn’t have gone out so late."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his eyes softened, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Still, I should’ve been more understanding earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything, and I haven’t been thinking about how much I’ve been taking your actions for granted. I’m really sorry."

You sighed, the frustration melting away at the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I just want you to be here with me, Jude. I don’t need you to be careful about everything, just… a bit more understanding."

He nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I will. I promise. I’m so sorry, baby."

His kisses came quicker after that, small and tender — one on your nose, another on your cheek, then the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you, especially when he placed another light peck on your forehead.

"Jude," you muttered, but you were smiling now.

"What?" he grinned, pressing one more kiss to your lips. "I’m making it up to you."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. "I think you're forgiven," you teased.

His smile widened as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go out at night alone again. Now I’m your bodyguard.”

Of course, you didn’t protest.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham comfort #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham angst #hey jude #jb5 #jude victor william bellingham #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #judeswifey

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starleska · 2 years ago

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i think ‘Big’ Jack Horner is Disney, and here’s why

many of us have had the pleasure of seeing the incredible Puss in Boots: The Last Wish by now, and were blown away by its clever writing, enchanting animation and emotional character arcs. yet there is one character who booted the trend of having a reason for his behaviour, and outright refused to experience any growth whatsoever.

let’s talk about ‘Big’ Jack Horner, and why i think he’s supposed to represent Disney:

‘Big’ Jack Horner isn’t just an antagonist in The Last Wish - he’s a villain. a self-obsessed, exploitative, murderous, petty, cruel bastard of a man whose awful behaviour isn’t just motivated by personal slights or childhood trauma: he sincerely enjoys hurting other people. whether it’s cheating his goons (’The Serpent Sisters’) out of a fair payment for their services or being excited about shooting a puppy in the face, there’s no denying that Jack delights in causing others pain and suffering. but what does he have to do with Disney?

let’s answer that question with another question: do you think that Jack, when placed next to the other antagonists - Goldi, The Three Bears, even Death - sticks out like a sore, plum-coloured thumb?

of course he does! but why? well, let’s look at Jack on a surface level. Jack is a monolith of a human being. not only is he physically huge and intimidating, he is the inheritor of an enormous pastry fortune and operates in the manner of a mob boss, with countless resources and a whole variety of powerful magical items at his disposal. indeed, Jack employs a crack team of bakers/assassins called ‘The Baker’s Dozen’ to carry out many of his tasks. although Jack does harm others himself, it is because of these resources - including the people who work for him - that he is able to bypass many of the obstacles faced by our protagonists in an honest and character-developing way (e.g., the Pocket Full O’Posies in The Dark Forest). Jack doesn’t need to have a character arc the way the other characters do, because he is so wealthy and owns so much.

but Jack’s reason for owning so much and being obsessed with magic and magical items isn’t through intellectual curiosity, or a traumatic backstory where he needed to learn how to wield magic. do you know what Jack’s covert motivation for owning all of the magic in the world is?

it’s money.

when we get the flashback of Jack’s childhood, dancing for the entertainment of an audience using his nursery rhyme, we see him becoming jealous of Pinocchio - and we see Gepetto in the back, absolutely raking in the cash. if we consider this flashback as that crucial moment within which Jack decided to become what he is today - and the presence of our off-brand Jiminy Cricket inclines us to think so - then we can understand that Jack decided that from that moment forward, he would own all of the magic.

let’s go back to The Baker’s Dozen for a moment. this team of highly-competent, multidisciplinary artisans do everything for Jack, whether it’s baking the pies which make him rich, or laying down their lives at his service. we aren’t given an in-universe reason for why they do this. yes, Jack is feared, but he is still the subject of mockery due to his humble beginnings as a nursery rhyme character. it certainly isn’t due to being treated or paid well. however, if we view the Baker’s Dozen as a metaphor for overworked, exploited artists whose views are routinely dismissed by the money-hungry, powerful corporation who owns their craft...things start to add up, don’t they? considering historic allegations of worker abuse at the hands of Disney, having Jack Horner literally step on their spines and encourage them to flex takes on a whole different meaning.

it doesn’t end there. do you recognise the items that Jack pulls out of his Mary Poppins bag when his Baker’s Dozen are being destroyed by the Pocket Full O’Posies - the items that he calls ‘the big guns’? it’s the broomstick from Fantasia, the spinning wheel from Sleeping Beauty, the size snacks from Alice in Wonderland, and a knock-off Jiminy Cricket from Pinocchio - all references to some of Disney’s earliest and most famous films.

still don’t believe me? well, let’s recap more of the items Jack has in his repertoire:

a hook-hand (referencing Captain Hook in Peter Pan)

a trident (referencing King Triton in The Little Mermaid)

poison apple bombs (referencing The Evil Queen in Snow White)

a glass slipper (again referencing Cinderella)

remember what happens when the knock-off Jiminy Cricket (interesting that there are so many Pinocchio references specifically, huh?) is horrified that Jack is losing so many men? Jack says he isn’t worried about losing the manpower, because he has a bottomless bag full of magical weapons. Jack literally gets his power off of the backs of his workers. sounds a lot like a big company justifying worker layoffs and exploitation because they have so many properties and are too big to fail, doesn’t it?

hell, Jack doesn’t even know what half of these items do! when he’s using the unicorn horns as ammo, he is surprised that they cause people to explode in a shower of confetti. viewing Jack through this lens, it’s difficult not to think about enormous corporations gobbling up properties and churning out content with little to no regard for their artists (looking back at The Baker’s Dozen - some of whom do perish in the fight with the unicorn horns) or what the properties are about. we haven’t even touched on Jack coveting the Wishing Star, a recurring motif in countless Disney movies as representing magic, dreams, and boundless creativity.

now, i hear you saying, ‘but Star! why would DreamWorks bother writing their bad guy as a metaphor for Disney?’ believe it or not, this isn’t the first time that DreamWorks have done this. in case you didn’t know, Lord Farquaad is a caricature of Michael Eisner, former chairman and CEO of The Walt Disney Company. the production of Shrek was actually quite troubled; animators who were perceived as having failed on other projects were ‘Shreked’, or sent to work on Shrek, instead of working on other (presumed to be more lucrative) films. of course, DreamWorks was co-founded by previous Disney CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg, hence the animosity towards Disney and its works evident in the Shrek franchise. this is what formed the story of Shrek: an ugly, crude outsider character taking on the clean-cut moralising of a dictator hell-bent on a so-called ‘perfect’ world, all created against the creative backdrop of a painful separation from Disney and a great deal of pent-up rage.

the irreverent, crass and sometimes adult humour of Shrek was a middle finger to Disney’s high-censorship control on animation. this is why Lord Farquaad (which you may have noticed sounds a bit like ‘Fuckwad’) is so obsessed with Duloc being ‘perfect’, and why he couldn’t stand the freedom of the fairy tale creatures who are the heroes of the first Shrek movie.

in fact, this kind of meta-commentary permeates the Shrek franchise:

The Fairy Godmother from Shrek 2, despite being a fairy tale creature herself, is highly prejudiced against characters who break out of their perceived social norms: i.e., Shrek marrying Princess Fiona and getting his Happily Ever After. she is an expansion of the control left over by Lord Farquaad, and rich because of her monopolisation of fairy tale creatures and their stories.

Prince Charming in Shrek the Third fails miserably to capitalise on these themes, but we’ll get back to him!

Rumpelstiltskin from Shrek Forever After tackles the gluttony of franchise reboots, and how soulless and rooted in corporate greed attempts to reboot often are. whilst not necessarily Disney-specific, Shrek Forever After follows the box office bomb that was Shrek the Third: a movie which noticeably fails to write a compelling narrative approaching any of the themes of the previous two films. the writers learned from their mistakes and wrote a movie which satirised their own selling-out of the franchise, becoming hollow and unnecessary and ‘perfect’ - the very thing they were making fun of in the earlier Shrek films.

there is one more area i’d like to touch on: Jack Horner’s source material. we know that Little Jack Horner is quite obscure: an 18th-century English nursery rhyme involving a boy who pulls a plum out of a pie with his thumb, and congratulates himself for his fortitude. but did you know that from its earliest conception, Little Jack Horner was associated with foolishness and dishonesty?

it’s true: the simple yet inexplicable nature of the poem was lambasted for being infantile, and quickly became the subject of revision, moralisation, and even political satire. it is no mistake that to ‘be under one’s thumb’ (as many of the characters in The Last Wish are to Jack, both literally and figuratively) means to be under one’s decisive control. the choice of Jack Horner for the villain of The Last Wish is a clever one, because we could easily have ended up with a sympathetic Jack, whose ostracisation as ‘not even a fairy tale’ may have led to a justifiable motive, even for his specific brand of cruelty. but instead, the writers of The Last Wish have gone one step further; they’ve transformed a source affiliated with idiocy and deception into a metaphor for a global multimedia conglomerate...all while portraying him as simultaneously terrifying, powerful, and ridiculous.

it has been over a decade since Shrek Forever After was released, and Disney has changed dramatically in that time. a global giant, Disney now owns more enormous money-making properties than ever thought possible, and consistently capitalises on nostalgia for its early properties to make more money and accumulate power. since breaking out of its exclusive licensing agreement with Disney in 2016, DreamWorks has had no official connection to Disney, making the ground for mockery and satirisation of the company which spawned the studio all the more fertile. ‘Big’ Jack Horner is not just a glamorous return to form for the dreadful, unapologetically evil villain which Disney has eschewed in modern times - he’s a hulking, egocentric monster whose avarice rivals that only of the corporation he’s inspired by.

and those are my thoughts on ‘Big’ Jack Horner! of course this is by no means the definitive interpretation - we should all just have fun with the movie and come up with whatever theories we like 🥰💖 i’d love to hear your thoughts on him and The Last Wish in general - he’s definitely one of my favourite bad guys to be released in the past few years!

thanks so much for reading, and have yourselves a wonderful day 🥰

#big jack horner #jack horner #puss in boots: the last wish #puss in boots #shrek #disney #puss in boots: the last wish spoilers #starleskatalks

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hannieehaee · 7 months ago

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not sure if you’ve done this before, i’m sorry if you have but svt and their s/o fighting bc of a misunderstanding?

fighting because of a misunderstanding

content: established relationship, mentions of arguments, pettiness, angst but nothing too serious, etc.

wc: 790

a/n: since this was such a general idea i went in a different direction with all of them and how they'd react if you or he had a misunderstanding and then it led to a fight. hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he seems super stubborn so i think that if he misunderstanding was on his side, he'd try to brush it off and pretend he didn't realize what the issue was. would try and drag it as long as possible due to embarrassment at his mistake, but it'd just create a bigger fight. eventually, though, he'd swallow his pride and admit fault.

jeonghan -

he'd gaslight you the entire argument and end up winning ... just kidding he'd actually be really open to admitting his faults and excusing you in your own T-T even if it had all been caused bc of a misunderstanding he'd still be willing to talk it through and resolve it. would NEVER go to bed if u guys hadnt resolved things.

joshua -

he's so annoyinjwhdjsks i think he'd be super annoying in fights so he'd take any bit of ammunition he could get. whether the misunderstanding was on his part or not, he'd still somehow argue it to his advantage. if things got out of hand, he'd wave the white flag and call a truce.

jun -

just confused the whole time. had he missed something or done something without realizing? his first instinct would be to be apologetic (even if he didnt fully understand how this argument had come to be). if he at some point realized either you or him had simply misunderstood the other, he'd just let it go, being content that you had already resolved it.

soonyoung -

lol i think he'd immediately act like wounded puppy the moment he realized that a fight had formed between the two of you. would do gymnastics in his head trying to figure out how you got here, only to realize that it had all been due to some misunderstanding between the two of you. he wouldnt care who was to blame, he'd just take responsibility if it meant the two of you could cuddle again.

wonwoo -

he's so in touch with his emotions and such an empathetic soul that i cant even imagine a fight breaking out with him, even if it was caused by a misunderstanding. like jeonghan, he'd be super open to talking it out and would never try to antagonize you during fights. had it all been caused by a misunderstanding, he'd still be very calm and understanding about it all, even taking blame if necessary.

jihoon -

gives me the vibe that he'd rather ice you out than actually get into a fight. this would, of course, only make things worse. he'd stand his ground, though, convincing himself that it'd be better to wait for you to go to him. after a few days of silence for both sides, he'd realize his mistake and have to crawl back to you with an apology.

seokmin -

would be so disheartened at the concept of fighting in the first place lol. he'd be willing to get on his knees to stop whatever argument was going on. he'd take on the blame of any misunderstanding if it made you happy.

mingyu -

another wounded puppy. would pout and whine and not really take the fight seriously, just wanting things to go back to normal so that he could hold you. would apologize for any fault of his and entice you into forgetting about whatever misunderstanding had come up.

minghao -

not sure if this is an unpopular opinion but i feel like he might be a lil bit stubborn when it comes to arguments. he might let his emotions get the best of him (he's a scorpio ..) and need some time to cool off before having a productive conversation. he'd have to hold himself back a bit in the case of a misunderstanding but would still never be mean nor disrespectful during fights.

seungkwan -

if for some reason you had picked a fight with him due to a misunderstanding on your part, he'd never let you live it down. would bring this up in future arguments (lightheartedly obviously!!) to give himself an advantage in any fight. would claim you had a previous record of being wrong.

vernon -

he's too chill to ever get into a serious fight. he'd be willing to admit fault pretty easily, but he'd also stand his ground when necessary. whenever a misunderstanding came up, he'd try to be the voice of reason and be open to criticism.

chan -

lol have you seen him when he banters with his members? he never backs down and he'd give you the same treatment. would argue til the end, even if things ended up getting a bit heated. in the end, though, he would calm down and understand that misunderstandings such as these needed to be taken care of with more tact and would apologize if he got too intense.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen reactions #svt reactions

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pigeonpeach · 11 months ago

Text

Mother and Father moments.

Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!

Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.

She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.

So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.

“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.

“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,

“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.

“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.

“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.

“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.

“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.

“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“

“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.

“You’re right I know I know.”

“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”

“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.

“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”

“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.

“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.

“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”

“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”

“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.

“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #domestic fluff #comfort #slight death but not of named characters #arlecchino is so hot please step on me #arlecchino x y/n #alrecchino #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #pls come home now arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #wlw x reader

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7brownsuga7 · 8 months ago

Text

Bts when jealous -

Thanks to @crabby-libra for the suggestion 💕🫶🏽Kinda short because I didn’t know what else to write lmfao

Namjoon:

• This will change his whole demeanour. Like he’s gonna be cold and won’t talk much, will definitely go mute until he musters up the courage to talk to you about his feelings. (Will take him some time because he wants to work through his emotions and feelings first)

• He can’t help being jealous. He just feels too much, too deeply.

• Will talk to you about how he’s feeling after and explain what made him jealous.

• Jaw clenching and eyebrow raise

• Is really a big baby and will also show his jealousy by sulking

• GUILT!! He will feel so guilty afterwards for acting the way he did. And will make up for it. (Constant cuddles/kisses, gifts etc)

Jin:

• Will definitely let you know about it. Is 100% blunt and honest with how he feels

• But will also probably tell you he’s jealous but won’t tell you why.

• Like he’s gonna say snarky comments and catch an attitude real bad.

• Very petty and will give you the cold shoulder, but in a dramatic way.

• & he will just overdramatise everything but will still want you around him. He just has to be dramatic first.

• He’s gonna be meannnnn! Especially if he’s jealous about another person, he will be kinda bitchy towards them (but in the most Jin way lfmao)

Yoongi:

• Silent but tries to act like he’s okay.

• Will definitely play it off like he’s not bothered. Loads of shoulder shrugging and halfassed smiles. Meanwhile my guy is seething lfmao

• He hates feeling jealous so he will mostly keep it to himself. But if you ask about it then he will tell you and you both will probably have a straightforward conversation about it where he tells you how he feels and why, and where you both work it out.

• Loads of side eyes though. Like he’s watching the fuck out of you.

Hobi:

• He’s gonna laugh about it. Yes he’s jealous but he’s not gonna take it seriously (or at least try too)

• He will tell himself how silly he’s being but still can’t help feel the jealousy in his body.

• Will try to act like he’s okay but deep down, he’s mad as fuck. He just doesn’t want you to worry or doubt yourself.

• Eye rolls and pouts

• Tries to distract himself

• Will confide in others about how he’s feeling to see if he’s not tripping.

Jimin:

• This jealousy is eating him alive

• Loads of side eyes and death glares

• Eyebrow raises and petty comments.

• If he’s jealous about another person with you then he’s going to be all over you, hands on you, arm resting on you. Just to let the other person know that they don’t have a chance.

• Might be times where he might try to make you jealous in return.

• He kind of gets possessive lfmao

• And when it gets too much for him he will pull you to the side and tell you what’s bothering him. All said with a sulky voice.

Taehyung:

• Will tell you he’s jealous but won’t tell you why for a while because he wants to be dramatic for a bit.

• Will sulk and moan about it.

• Will eventually tell you why he’s jealous while also seeking for some reassurance.

• He’s going to talk to everyone and anyone about how jealous he is. He don’t give a fuck honestly. He needs to get it off his chest and will definitely bitch about the other person. But don’t worry he won’t bitch about you of course.

Jungkook:

• He will sulk and pout or be moody. No in between

• He will want to talk to you about it but a part of him doesn’t want to say anything so he might just shut down.

• He hates feeling jealous, so you will see his whole demeanour change. I see him becoming more silent and closed off. But it can range from that to him being totally sulky.

• He will glare the other person down

• Tongue in cheek and eyebrow twitch.

• A sly smirk and shake of his head.

• He will be moody for sure but will also still be around you. He will just be more touchy than he already is. Like he’s making sure everyone knows you’re together.

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darlingsblackbook · 1 month ago

Text

Beneath the Ashes

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader

Summary : All you want is to help and fight alongside your lover but all it causes is arguments. Words are said, feelings are hurt and you storm away but will you come back?

Warnings : angst, arguments, blood, sad moments >:)

A/N: This is my first piece for Diluc, my beloved♡

There will be a part two soon!

The slam of the door rings in my ears, but it’s not enough to drown out the argument still raging in my head. The cold air hits me as I step outside, sharp and biting, but I barely feel it. My heart is still pounding from the shouting, from the words that cut deeper than I’d ever imagined they could.

“I’m not some child, Diluc!” My voice had cracked, raw with frustration. “I don’t need you to protect me like I’m some helpless idiot!”

“You don’t understand,” he’d shot back, his voice edged with a rare, ice-cold anger. “You’re too reckless. This isn’t just some petty mission. This is real danger. I won’t risk you getting hurt because you want to prove a point!”

There it was, that condescending tone. That same look he always gave me when we fought—like I was a fragile thing to be coddled, to be kept safe. It made my blood boil, made my fists clench at my sides.

“And what about you?” I had spat, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “You throw yourself into danger every damn day. You think that’s fair to me? To anyone who cares about you?”

Diluc’s eyes had darkened then, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he was going to back down, to let me in. But instead, his voice turned cold, a chilling contrast to the fire always burning beneath his stoic exterior.

“That’s different.”

I had laughed, bitter and hollow. “Of course it is. Because it’s always different when it’s you. You get to play the hero, sacrifice everything for the sake of Mondstadt, but gods forbid I want to stand by your side.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” His voice had risen, a rare crack in his composure. “Do you think I want to do this? That I want to push you away? But if something happened to you, if—” He had cut himself off, his fists clenching. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“So that’s it? You just expect me to sit here in this mansion, waiting for you to come home, hoping you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere? You want me to be okay with that? With being left behind every time?”

His silence was deafening.

“I’m not a fragile flower, Diluc. I’m not one of your servants or your… your responsibilities.” My voice had trembled with the effort of holding back the storm of emotions threatening to break free. “I love you. I want to fight with you, not against you. But you… you won’t even let me in.”

He had looked at me then, his eyes hard, distant. The walls he always built around himself had gone up higher, stronger. And when he spoke, his words were like daggers, each one sharper than the last.

“This isn’t about love. This is about survival. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

I’d felt something inside me shatter at those words. The pain had been so sharp, so sudden, that I couldn’t even speak for a moment. I had stared at him, at the man I loved, the man who was supposed to trust me, to stand beside me. And all I saw was a stranger.

“Is that really what you think of me?” My voice had come out small, barely more than a whisper. “That I don’t belong here? That I’m just… in your way?”

His silence had been the final blow.

Without another word, I had turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see if he would stop me, if he would finally say something, anything to make me stay.

But he didn’t.

°•♡•°

The wind howls through the trees as I stumble along the path, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My side aches from the cold, the pain still fresh from the fight. I should have grabbed my coat, but I’d been too angry to care. Now, every step feels like a reminder of how badly things went, of how shattered everything is.

His words keep replaying in my head. Maybe you don’t belong here. I never thought he could say something like that to me, that he could push me away so easily, as if all the time we’d spent together didn’t matter. As if I didn’t matter.

I bite back the lump forming in my throat. I’m not going to cry. Not now. Not after everything. If he wants to push me away, fine. Let him.

But the truth is, I’m not angry anymore. I’m hurt. The kind of hurt that sinks deep into your bones, that makes you question everything you thought you knew. And I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to make this better, or if it can even be fixed.

I don’t realize how far I’ve gone until the sound of twigs snapping behind me jolts me from my thoughts. I look around, but the darkness has swallowed everything, leaving only the faint outline of trees swaying in the wind.

I freeze. Something feels wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I slowly turn around, heart thudding in my chest. At first, I see nothing but the dark outline of trees swaying in the wind.

Then, a shadow moves.

It happens too fast. A blur of movement, a sharp pain as something—or someone—grabs me, pulling me off the path. My scream is cut off by a hand clamping over my mouth.

Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes through my head, and the world tilts. I barely register the blow before I’m knocked to the ground, my knees hitting the dirt hard. The breath is forced out of me, and I taste blood in my mouth.

Panic floods my senses, but before I can react, a hand grabs my hair, yanking me back. I cry out, my voice barely more than a choked sob, but no one hears. There’s no one around.

I can barely process what’s happening, the world spinning as I struggle to push the assailant off. There’s more than one. Three—no, four figures, cloaked in darkness, their eyes glinting maliciously in the faint moonlight. Fatui? Bandits? It doesn’t matter. They’re here, and I’m alone.

My mind races, the fear choking me. Where’s Diluc? Would he even come if he knew? Or would he let me bleed out here, alone, because I wasn’t supposed to be out here in the first place? Maybe you don’t belong here. His words echo in my mind, cruel and sharp.

I was so hurt, so angry, so distracted by the fight I had with Diluc that I had not been paying any attention to my surroundings. I had not been paying attention to the possibility of enemies following me.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have made such a mistake after my whole speech about being able to take care of myself and wanting to stand by Diluc's side?

I kick, I claw, but it’s not enough. I can’t stop shaking, the cold and fear gripping me in equal measure. One of them pulls out a blade, and I feel it cut into my side, a sharp, searing pain that makes my vision blur. I gasp, the knife sinking into my skin. Everything goes white with pain, and I feel the warmth of my own blood pooling under me.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. They say something to each other, but the words are distant, muffled by the rush of blood in my ears.

My vision blurs, and the world tilts again, the cold ground rising up to meet me as I fall. I hear the faint sound of footsteps, of voices, but it all fades, growing distant

I think I call his name.

Diluc.

But no one’s coming.

•• </3 ••

When I open my eyes, it’s to the sound of someone shouting my name.

“Y/N!”

It’s him. Diluc.

I try to move, try to sit up, but the pain in my side flares up, and I can barely breathe. His arms are around me in an instant, lifting me from the cold dirt. His face is pale, his eyes wide with something like terror.

“Don’t… don’t move,” he says, his voice shaking. “You’re hurt. You’re hurt…”

I try to speak, but the words don’t come. My throat feels tight, raw, and I can barely focus on anything but the warmth of his arms around me, the way he holds me like I might slip away at any moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. Please, stay with me. I can’t—” His voice cracks, and I feel something wet hit my cheek. His tears.

I want to tell him it’s okay, that I understand now, but all I can do is reach up, my fingers brushing weakly against his cheek. He catches my hand, holding it tightly as if it’s the only thing keeping me here.

“I’m so sorry.." I sob as tears run down my cheeks as rivers. I yelp as sharp pain pierces my side, the slight movement of my crying causing immense pain. "Y-you were right-t...I kept telling you I c-could take care of myself and f-fight- still I-" My voice is barely a whisper.

His grip tightens, his eyes full of pain, of fear. “Sshhh, don't say that, dont worry about that now. I can’t lose you. I should’ve never… I shouldn’t have said those things. I was scared. I was—” He stops, choking on the words. “Please, y/n, just hold on.”

But I’m so tired. The pain is fading now, replaced by a numbness that spreads through me, pulling me under.

I hear him calling my name, but it’s distant now, fading with the rest of the world. And then, there’s nothing but silence.

♡

Meow meow meow meow...meow meow meow meow meow...

#genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc angst #diluc fluff #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin fanfic

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izzabela · 1 month ago

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Hello! 🤗

I read your story "Focus" Kuai Liang x reader and it made me sad for the reader to go through the pain so I was wondering if you could do a part 2 where Smoke silently watched the whole thing and is secretly disgusted by Kuai Liang and Harumi's actions so he decided to look after the reader and it eventually turned into romance and fast forward Smoke and the reader are happily married with a kid or kids?

Magnets - Tomas x fem!reader

in which you try to explain your feelings through planets, of course

a/n: highly requested part 2 of this

ship[s]: tomas vrbada x fem!reader

warning(s): none, semi-jealous kuai liang?

(let me at him)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wanna be

an itch you can't scratch

Despite being cool with everything happening around you, you could feel something gnaw in the back of your mind.

And by "gnaw", it was the empathetic pair of ashen eyes that bore into your soul.

Tomas Vrbada, adopted brother to Kuai Liang (cheater), and founder of the Shirai Ryu.

You put on a show for sure, especially when you wanted to just cry out and claw both Kuai Liang and Harumi's eyes out.

Still, you carried on per usual. You did not make a scene, congratulated them on their union, even remained kind to Harumi as she kept throwing stones of pettiness at you.

And the only reason Tomas knew at all, was that he was the same way.

Disgusted with his brother's unfaithfulness, torn between support of his former sister in law and his only family left, Tomas was in tatters picking a side.

In the end, he chose you. You needed the support, and you were more than grateful for it. He gave you peace, comfort, and reliability. That was it- that was supposed to be it.

You've kept him at an arm's length, a distance close enough to let him into your mind, but just far enough where he wasn't close to your heart or soul. You couldn't risk it, not after Kuai Liang.

Seems your shoulder was tired, though, exhausted from the constant emotional barriers you've kept up.

One quiet evening, around four months since Harumi and Kuai Liang's marriage, you had gotten shit-face drunk. Tears flowing, face flushed and warm, Tomas found you sobbing over the life you lost.

Tomas kept it modest, tried to take you to your room before things had gotten out of hand.

However, when your hand reached for his, and he reciprocated, the cards were scattered. The deck the gods had dealt you was rearranged, and you two had become magnets.

While there is solidified science between magnets, you couldn't help but feel it be some mystic force. You'd always kept him just far enough away to not get stuck, but he was always there.

You try to explain with card readings, palm readings, tarot, even planets (of course).

Yet, with each time you push the ideas and thoughts far away from you, to the other side of your mind, he keeps pulling you in.

Again, and again, and again.

The air, buzzes

whenever you're near

And ever since that night, you can't help but feel your heart skip in your chest. Thumping so loud you feel as if you'd implode from the pressure.

But with every smile Tomas sends, every word he speaks, and every thing he does, you can't help but think...

Are you the one? Or are you just a mirror...

Looking at him brings you to your wits end: every word he speaks, a kind gesture he does- every little thing he does makes you think.

And while you don't know what it could be, you know that you'd rather end it all than remain friends.

So, in the evening, around eight months post-Kuai Liang marriage, you decide to confront Tomas. Corner him the way he does to you, make him second guess everything just as he does to you.

And when you have Tomas to yourself, you rip into him about everything you've been feeling. From the way he helps you with chores, to the incident with him holding your hand, you let him know about your "unfortunate" attachment with him.

Incredibly, Tomas remains calm, only offering a kind smile as he carefully, and gently, walks closer to you. He's closing the gap between the both of you, and his pull is undeniable.

He slips his rough fingers between yours, grasping your hand and gingerly placing it over his heart.

"Can't you feel this?" he asked. "Can't you feel the steady beat of my heart for you?"

His other arm skillfully wraps around your back and pulls you in completely, and you're stuck in the infinite pull of Tomas Vrbada.

"This happens whenever we are side by side, across one another, in different parts of the room," he's exasperated, and you listen with bated breath.

"No matter where you are, whether a foot, a room, a country or ocean away, I will always be drawn to you," and Tomas takes your hand to place the lightest kiss on your knuckles.

"So, please quit acting like we are not two magnets," his eyes are creased with a pained expression, and your hand robotically moved to provide comfort.

"You know, I've tried to explain this using so many different belief systems," you chuckle at the memories.

"One can assume you even tried to use planets," he (correctly) assumes. You roll your eyes and wrap both your arms around his neck, pull him down so his lips are just near yours.

"Of course," you don't deny. "And there's no use, really. Every time, try as I might, to push you away, you keep pulling me in."

Tomas is smiling, eyes half-lidded as he closes the gap between yours and his lips.

"Again, and again, and again."

And as tongues clashed, clothes were torn and thrown, and your bodies superimposed over each other, the pull that his lips had on yours was unbreakable.

Finally pulling away, you caress Tomas's face and give him a weary smile and bleak words of the future.

"To be honest, I couldn't care less if this ends... in the end."

However, Tomas shut you up, flipping you onto your back as he kept you quiet with his kiss. Tongue exploring inside your mouth, memorizing the taste that intoxicated him, you close your eyes and let him.

It wasn't a promise, those unfold as quick as lies.

This was an oath, a swear-in to forever with you. A swear that "this", from him watching over you to you being in his bed, would not end.

In fact, "this" gave life to the newest generation of Vrbada's. Two children, twins, being the perfect mix between you and Tomas.

Of course, it's awkward to some that you had moved on to the other brother after such a heartbreak, even Kuai Liang and Harumi found it disrespectful (ironic).

But you didn't care, not when Tomas kept his oath to you, not when Tomas fought past your self-made barriers to have you where you are, and not when Tomas gave you a reason to love again.

And if given the choice? You'd choose this way to find him.

Again, and again, and again.

=====================

did you guys miss me?

thank y'all for being so patient. school is hard but i have dreams to chase after

how y'all been? comment down below because my life is boring and i need tea

aight see yall in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #x reader #tomas vrbada #smoke #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #smoke x you #smoke x reader #tomas x you #tomas x reader

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princessbrunette · 4 months ago

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tattooartist!pope was pretty nonchalant at times. you could tell he wasn’t always this way, and occasionally he lets the hyperactive dork in him slip out — but he’d had his heart played with too many times, so decided he was going to be petty just like everyone else. now the two of you had a thing going and you just wanted him to show he cared. you wanted to know things were exclusive.

the two of you were on the couch when you decided to bring it up. you didn’t quite have a clear point to make, but clearly you felt comfortable enough to express a particular emotion.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know?” pope chuckles quietly, eyes not removed from his sketchbook as he draws out a few design ideas. in the low lighting of your apartment, the tattoos that cover his neck cluster into one.

“sorry.” you smile, but making no effort to look away.

“is something wrong?” he converses, and is happy to do so. he liked spending time with you after work, it’s why he was here after all.

“do you like— frequently tattoo other girls?”

you watch his pencil slow and he slides his eyes over to you. “i mean… yeah, of course?” he raises an eyebrow when you say nothing. “its kind of my job.”

“yeah, for sure but like — they probably get tattoos in like… super intimate places, right?” you’re looking at your nails now, already feeling dumb about the whole thing. you just couldn’t help it sometimes, couldn’t help feeding the jealousy beast that festered in the pit of your stomach.

“i mean work is work.” he shrugs, but continues to stare at you through the silence. “any reason you’re asking that?”

“no.”

“okay that’s bullshit.” he puts his sketchbook on his lap and turns to face you a little more. it takes about ten seconds, but you look back up at him — even having the audacity to try and look all casual. “so what are you like jealous or something?” pope is suddenly the one feeling vulnerable. scared, even. jealousy means serious. serious means he gets hurt in the end.

“no.” it comes out even quieter. “just forget it. i was curious—”

“—because we aren’t even really dating, you know that?” he croons, but it comes out a lot snippier than intended. you’re silenced instantly, staring ahead at the TV. you decide no answer is needed, bringing your knees to your chest as you pretend to be engrossed in the show infront of you. his lips part, chest heaving with guilt. why the fuck would he say that? “look, i mean… yet.” he shuffles up to you, “admittedly i have some baggage… but i do like you. i don’t… know why i had to say it like that.” he wraps an arm around you and you sulk, a sucker for it.

“i want to get a tattoo.” you pout. “one right between my tits. a bow or something.”

“no you don’t. you just want it because i’m the one doing it for you. you would literally regret it as soon as you step outside the store. i try and encourage my clients to make the right choice, and plus — you quite literally regret the tattoo i did for you on the inside of your lip where no one can see it.” you hear him smirking warmly, his thumb pulling down your puffy bottom lip in gesture to reveal the ink.

“how’d you know?” you mewl.

“i’ve been in this for a while. i just know.”

you turn and look at him now, and he smiles at you — not that cold, withdrawn version of him that rears its ugly head at times— the warm, kind of dorky version. the one you like.

“sorry for being crazy.”

“hey, stay crazy. the majority of geniuses on this planet are a little crazy.”

#tattooartist!pope #pope heyward prompt

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seonne · 6 months ago

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"Just So You Know..."

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (Reader was mentioned as "she" once)

Disclaimer: Comfort fic, mentions of familial bullshit, but it's purely comfort. Reader speaks, like, one sentence in this whole thing.

"Look, you know I'm shit with emotions and shit like that. But it's fucking annoying seeing you cooped up in your room wallowing in self pity, so speak the fuck up!"

You were not in a mood to talk to people. Hell, you didn't even want to talk to yourself, didn't want to walk around your room making up fake arguments and yelling at the air. You didn't want to talk, walk, cry, laugh, sing, anything. You just wanted to sit in silence and let your thoughts consume you.

But of course, your no-nonsense boyfriend wouldn't be okay with it.

You hugged your knees closer to you as your boyfriend sat himself on the floor beside you, back leaning onto your bed.

"I know you're upset, but I have no idea if it's because of me or someone or something else. So you need to speak at least a single word for me to understand what's going on and how to fix it."

You stayed silent and rigid, the only part of you moving being your eyelids when you blinked and your chest as you inhaled and exhaled.

Inhaled and exhaled.

Time seemed to be moving fast and slow, running and crawling, chasing and waiting. Merciless.

You felt Katsuki moving beside you but you didn't have it in you to look at him, talk to him.

I'm sorry.

It's not your fault.

I know I shouldn't be giving you the silent treatment.

This is not a silent treatment.

I want to talk to you.

Please keep talking.

I want to hear you.

But you stay mum.

An arm circles around your shoulder and you're pulled into a sturdy chest, as the ball you've rolled yourself into.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk. I'll make you talk later."

His voice softly caresses over you as your ears zone into him, away from the sound of your ceiling fan and the pit-pat of the rain outside. The lilt of his voice is careful, placed with his love, careful in a way he hopes to all the gods above that he doesn't upset you further while also awkwardly navigating and voicing his own genuine concern.

A comforting silence follows afterwards as you snuggle deeper into his chest.

"Are you okay with answering yes or no questions?"

You nod.

"Are you..." His voice trails as he blinks and looks away, composing himself.

'Don't get mad even if her answer may make you mad.'

"Are you upset... because of me?"

You shake your head no. A soft sigh of relief escapes him before he quickly catches it back.

"Was it your parents?"

Nod.

He nods back, understanding.

He knows how your parents tend to be and how you act whenever you encounter them. They say the dumbest shit about you, accusingly, denyingly.

And you believe them.

You believe the bullshit they say about you, how the rest of your family acts about it and how absolutely devastated it leaves what's left of your mental health.

So he waits, patiently, as you sit dead silent propped against him, breathing him in and trying to silence your thoughts.

"...Can you keep talking?"

And he does. He goes on about his day. How "fucking Shitty Hair" barged into the meeting room late as hell and embarrassed himself and Katsuki, how "stupid nerd ass Izuku" flopped while trying to take lead on a joint mission, how he went out on a "boring ass patrol" because the only thing he encountered was a petty thief trying to steal from an old lady.

The story about the old lady trying to set him up with her granddaughter as a form of gratitude brought a short giggle out of you which set him at ease, a small smile gracing his lips.

An easy silence fills the room, enveloping the both of you in it's warmth, despite the rain outside. The crackle of thunder that used to intrigue and excite you, now consoled you, singing you praises of yourself and the wonderful person next to you, who is going way out of his comfort zone to comfort you. The rain smiled at you, singing her lullaby as your eyes fall closed.

A soft kiss on your forehead brought an equally soft smile to your face as the voices in your head faded.

"Just so you know... whatever they said ain't shit. You're amazing and you're never ever a fucking burden, you got that? You're an amazing person and...I love you, god damn it! Don't let anyone make you feel like shit."

You allowed yourself a single tear as it rolled down your cheek. Your sorrow, your self pity, low self esteem, broken heart, hurt feelings, love, joy, satisfaction, comfort. All your emotions, packed into the single drop that dropped to soak into the heart of the man that held you closer than ever; a promise to never let go.

Dutifully writing my own comfort fics because I have come to the realisation of the importance of them. I hope anyone reading this knows that they're loved, and no matter the shittiness of your situation, it will all pass eventually. After all, sad moments are what make the happy moments of life that much sweeter.

Lots of love!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #kacchan

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ltbarnes · 9 months ago

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Back to December (2/2)

Summary: Your new job as an assistant for the CEO of a big, shiny company was supposed to be a good thing. Instead your ex from uni who completely ghosted you out of nowhere several years ago happens to be one of your superiors. It doesn’t help that he’s only gotten more handsome over the years. But you hate him for leaving without an explanation, and he seems to hate you too. Everything is just fucking great.

Pairing: ex!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Word count: 7k

Warnings: OFFICE AU (Ghost is not ceo but he’s up there in the company somewhere), exes to enemies to lovers, harassment, past emotional violence/threats, blood, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)

A/N: Took me a few weeks but it’s finally here ;) you guys don’t understand how happy it made me when so many people loved the last part!! makes me so excited to write more for the cod fandom! (I have not proofread this because I was too excited to publish it so there might be errors and weird stuff lol)

Part 1

Masterlist

The car ride is quiet. He glances your way whenever you wince. You watch his hand gripping the stirring wheel tightly, fingers drumming along anxiously with the faint beat of a song coming from the radio.

It's a nice car. Like, you would not afford this even if you saved up for years. You knew Simon was influential in the company, but this...it almost scares you. He's fucking rich. Probably going to laugh at you when he pulls up outside of your apartment building.

This is the first time you have ever been in a car with him. You wish things were different. Mostly that your eyes weren't so puffy from crying. And that he wasn't your ex and you weren't working together.

A red light forces him to slow down into a stop, the only sound now being the wind picking up pace outside. It's so quiet for a few seconds that you barely have the courage to breathe.

"Why did you fuck up my entire office? Whole day was ruined," Simon speaks from nowhere. Your lip twitches, fighting the urge to smirk despite the pain tormenting you.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Of course it was you. No one else in there knows that I'd have a bloody breakdown over my files being out of order," he mutters.

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "It was petty. But...I was mad. About the coffee-thing." Your voice grows softer with each word, merely a whisper by the end.

Simon clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, uh...not my finest moment."

A thick silence falls over the car once more. None of you dare to talk about the thing that actually needs to be brought up, the dark cloud hanging over your shared past. You are not really mad at each other over coffee.

The drive takes much longer than usual because of the heavy rain. You're shivering despite the heat being on. It's been thirty minutes once the wheels slow down right outside of your apartment, and you instantly move to get out after throwing a sincere 'thank you' his way. It's all you can muster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Simon asks, not even making an attempt to answer to what you were saying.

"What do you mean?" You stop, looking over your shoulder with one hand on the door. You just want to go inside, away from his gaze before it all gets too much.

Simon unbuckles his belt, getting out of the car. Rounds the entirety of it until he's opening your door, leaning down to look at you with a frown.

"You're hurt, for fuck's sake, Y/n. You can't take care of that yourself, no way."

You sigh out of frustration, shaking your head while looking away from him. "Why are you being nice to me, Simon?"

That seems to halt him in his actions. Simon blinks, pauses for a few seconds, before opening his mouth again. "Don't know. But I'm in a chipper fucking mood, so just let me get you out of the car, okay?"

You huff, giving no protest as he takes a hold of your waist to assist you out onto the curb. "You're not in a good mood..." you mutter under your breath. He just scoffs.

Simon sits and waits for you in the kitchen as you wrangle yourself out of your wet clothes into an old sweatshirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. For much too long you stand in front of the mirror, staring at the newly formed bruise on your upper arm. You have to take a few shaky breaths to force the tears back before you limp back into the kitchen.

This outfit of yours is the last thing you want to wear around him, but it's what the situation requires. But did you really have to be so dramatic and fall onto your knees before? This is going to take weeks to heal. And now you have Simon sitting on your chair waiting to patch you up. Simon.

"The first aid kit is in the bathroom, I'm just gonna go get—" You point with your thumb.

He's on his feet before you even have the chance to finish the sentence. You barely even processed the fact that he's discarded his suit jacket and shirt, now walking around your home with a white tank that does no good job at hiding his fucking massive muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos that he definitely didn't have when you last saw him. Fuck.

Simon returns just a minute later, already rummaging through the box for...something. You don't really know what's required for a wound like this. He was right about you not being able to take care of it yourself, which you hate. Loathe, actually.

"Sit down," he tells you, dragging out a chair from the table as if you are his guest and not the other way around. The strangest thing is that you listen, without a single protest. He seems to still have that power over you.

You can't take your eyes off of him as he kneels down, grabbing a hold of cotton and some liquid-thingy you didn't even know you had in that kit.

"Is that gonna hurt?" you ask, his hand one inch from touching your knee. Simon sighs, blinking as if he's going to lose it soon.

"Well, what do you think? It's alcohol in a bleeding wound. Of fucking course it's gonna hurt."

You grimace, biting your cheek, before inching back just slightly. "Then I don't wanna do it," you whisper.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Grow up for once, will you?"

"What do you mean ‘for once’?" you seethe, retracting yourself entirely from his proximity as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, c'mon, what you did today was just...fucking childish." Still sitting on his knees, but it feels like he's towering over you the way he speaks.

"Uh—like you acting like your coffee was cold when it clearly wasn't just to humiliate me wasn't childish too! You started it!"

You rise to your feet, turning away from Simon out of frustration.

"Sit down, Y/n."

"No! I won't...let you in my apartment to order me around and...and—"

"Just sit down," he seethes, getting up to his feet. Now he's really towering over you. You hate it.

You continue walking away towards your bathroom, letting out a wince as you put too much weight on the bad knee. You keep walking anyways.

"Y/n, for fuck's sake!" Simon follows you. He could have been ahead of you if he wanted to already, but he stays behind for some reason. "Why won't you listen to me?"

His yelling makes you turn around with so much anger in your expression. But the anger can't hide the tears pooling in your eyes—nothing can.

"Because you left me!"

Silence. Thick, anxious silence as he stands there dumbfounded. His chest is heaving from your altercation.

"You left me without a single word, Simon! Not even a fucking hint!"

His previous stunned silence turns into a bitter chuckle, one hand on his hip and the other running over his chin as he shakes his head. You see the change in his eyes—irritation turned into real anger.

"Not a hint, huh?" he scoffs. "You could've given a fucking hint that you were sick of me before you went and fucked Graves and half of his team behind my back."

All of a sudden the roles are switched, and you're the one stunned silent. A person who can barely process the words you just heard—did you hear right? Could Simon ever say that to you?

"I was so happy that night. Just wanted to celebrate with my team and my girl—searched the whole party for you, you know?" Simon shakes his head, still that cold, deprecating chuckle on his lips. "And then I find you eating up Philip fucking Graves' face and two of his friends. Fucking two of them, Y/n!"

Agressive flashes of fear-filled memories attack you along with the line of Simon's retelling of that night you go back to so often. Of what you could have done differently, of the anger you felt that he just had to make things worse. Water was up to your neck, pressing on your lungs, and his abandonment pushed your head under the surface.

"You get your fucking boyfriend to back down or we'll leave your pretty body half-conscious on his doorstep."

"Please, just let me go. I'll talk to him, I promise. Please." You were sobbing, the emotions heightened by the vodka in your bloodstream.

"Such an obedient little puppy, huh? No wonder he spends all his time fucking you instead of hanging out with the team." Philip's laughter filled the room, looking over his shoulder to his friends who found just as much amusement in the situation as him.

"Nothing to say, huh?"

Simon's voice shatters your deep train of thought with the sheer bitterness behind it. It makes the tears fall faster.

"You...you saw that?" you ask weakly, your voice frail as if you have been crying for hours. Your arms come up to shield yourself from the invisible presence of them, hugging your torso as if it helps.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. It was fucking hell, seeing the girl you love cheating on you with three guys. So I'm sorry if I've been acting like a bloody prick, but I can't just pretend I'm not still so fucking angry at you. Don't come crying here saying that my behavior isn't justified when you know damn well why I'm mad at you."

All these years. So many sleepless nights obsessing over every detail of your behavior during your relationship, and this is the answer. You have been so angry at him over leaving, and you never thought you would understand why. But you do, and it breaks your heart even more.

Blood is smeared all over your leg as you look down, and that still doesn't hurt as much as the fact that Simon has gone around for years hating you, thinking that you cheated on him. You loved him so much. Betraying him is the last thing you ever would have done. You understand Johnny's reaction now too—he thought you cheated on his best friend. That's not something you just forgive. It's your job to be mad at the people who wrong your friends.

But a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you to be angry. Simon walked past that dark bedroom, saw what was happening, and left. He could have saved you. It's an unfair thought to have. You can't be upset with him for misunderstanding. He couldn't have known about the threats dealt out in that room, or that the passionate kisses he witnessed was in reality seething, harsh words and a much too up and close Philip Graves. But it still hurts. Still haunts you, having three massive rugby players crowding you in and promising to beat you to a pulp.

A loud sniffle comes from your lips, drying the tears away from your face with the back of your hand. Blinking to rid yourself of the water on your lashes. You have to tell him. Simon looks about ready to leave.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say breathily. Your voice cracks in the middle of it.

"Sorry?" he shakes his head, lifts his eyebrow as if assessing the word. It's clear that's not enough for him.

"I'm sorry you thought I cheated all this time. I understand why—" A hiccup,"—I get why you left."

Your choice of words changes his demeanor. From hostile, clenched jaw with a fire simmering underneath the surface to hostile, clenched jaw and confused.

"I didn't kiss anyone, Simon. I didn't—I didn't do anything with Philip, or any of his friends." Broken words, distorted by the constant movement of your chest and throat as your body desperately fights for you to let out the sobs. Not yet. "They wanted me to get you to quit the team, and I couldn't...I couldn't fight back. Not against all of them."

Nostrils flare, lip is bitten down on. A veiny hand runs over a mouth. Blinking. Hands shake with contained...fury? You don't know who it's directed at.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" he seethes, taking a step forward that makes you take one back.

"We weren't kissing. They were threatening me. Said I'd be left on your doorstep bleeding and bruised if I didn't convince you to stop going after the Captain position. I was so scared, Simon," you say, voice cracking pathetically on the last sentence.

He’s quiet for much too long. You can’t read him, standing there so exposed and vulnerable and he’s silent. That’s why his outburst is so sudden.

"Fuck!"

You flinch, inching backwards as Simon turns around yelling. Not once have you heard him scream this loud. So you stand there, rooted in place, tears streaming down your face as he tugs at his hair with his hands. His chest heaves as if he just ran five miles.

You tremble too. The first sob comes out. It's a sad, pathetic sob that you try to muffle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Futile. Simon turns around. You can't see his expression through the blur of your tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, burying your face into the palms of your cold hands.

You almost jump as strong arms pull you into the tightest hug you have ever lived through. It's an urgent one, a desperate one. It's warm. Your cheek gets mushed against his damp shirt, hand encasing the back of your head as his chest rises up and down with his rugged breaths.

You lose the single crumb of composure you had left. If Simon wasn't a wall of a man he would have been dragged down with you as your legs lose the ability to carry you, just like in the alleyway. He notices anyway, slowly sitting the two of you down on the floor. Your knee is protected by a gentle hand keeping it from colliding with the hardwood.

"I am so, so sorry, Y/n," Simon tells you on a frail voice. It almost sounds like he's on the verge of crying too. You didn't know his voice could sound soft. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you. That I just—I just walked away. So fucking thickheaded—"

Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging just slightly. It's your silent 'stop'. A reassurance that he doesn't need to blame himself. You understand.

"All these years I—I hated you for something you didn't even do. Fuck, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."

He shakes his head, his hold around you tightening subconsciously. It takes a few seconds before he realizes and softens again.

"Oh fucking hell. I got Graves suspended the day before 'cause I ratted him out to Coach about smoking fucking weed. Fucking shit, this is all my fault. I am so sorry," Simon croaks out. His voice will give in any minute to the guilt and frustration and anger and tears.

"Simon..." you whisper before sniffling, putting your hand on his chest. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself."

He shakes his head again. He will give himself a concussion soon from how much he's done it this night.

"It's not your fault. It's...it was horrible. But it was them, not you. Someone came and stopped it before they could do anything worse."

He takes in a sharp breath. You can almost feel the way his jaw clenches. "Anything worse? They put their hands on you?" he whispers bitterly. "Shouldn't have happened at all. I should have been with you earlier."

"Just some bruises from when they dragged me into that room. But I know you wouldn't have let it happen if you knew. Of course I know that, Simon," you say softly, sitting up just slightly. You don't know when your tears stopped. It's just your throbbing head and the runny nose left. "Simon, you were so protective of me. You cared so much—I know you would have stopped them if you knew. But you didn't know."

Dirty blond hair and his scruffy neck is all you're met with. He doesn't even look your way. And then he's suddenly on his feet, towering over your figure on the floor.

"You're still bleeding. Need to fix it."

You can't answer. Don't even have the opportunity to—Simon's hands sneak under yours arms and lift you up to a stand before you can open your mouth again.

"Simon..."

He keeps quiet. It's that brooding thing where he overthinks. Did it when you were together too. A lot. Simon carries a lot of guilt around, steals it from others and guards it safely within himself. You don't really know how he bears it all.

The sofa sinks underneath your weight as he slowly loosens his hold around your waist, placing you so gently onto the cushions. Might as well be made of glass to him. But then you think that it must be exactly how he views you right now—a delicate, frail thing who needs protection from any and every threat. You have already amassed cracks during the years, during the day even, and just one push will leave you to splinter.

Once again he kneels before you. This time you don't find it frustratingly hot. Now it's soft, a little sad even. There's a frown so deep in between his eyebrows you fear it might become permanent this time.

You don't say anything as you let him clean your wound. Maybe you hiss a little once the alcohol touches the broken skin, but make no move to protest. Simon might need this more than you. Okay, you don't want to die from an infection, but you could have done this with a lot less grace. You would have ten minutes ago.

"I still am, you know," he mutters after many, many minutes of silence. He's wrapping a bandage around your leg.

"What?" you breathe out softly, looking down at his concentrated frown.

"Protective of you," he answers. "I still care. Even if we're not together." Simon gulps, stops for just a second in his work.

"You are?"

His eyebrows rise for a second, corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards. "Didn't see me earlier in the lobby? I was gonna curse you out real fucking good. For my office."

"But you didn't."

"No. I couldn't, not when I saw that you were crying." His hand suddenly stops, resting on your good knee, before he looks up at you. "Why the hell were you crying, Y/n?"

Instantly you close off again, glancing away to escape that concerned expression that makes his eyes so dark and soft. It's an irresistible thing.

"Please, love. I need to—I need to make it better."

You pretend to ignore that Simon just called you love. Instead you focus on the fact that he's trying to compensate for that December night. For all the years you had a broken heart without knowing the reason why.

"Just...something that brought back some bad memories, that's all. Unpleasant encounter." It's practically mumbled, your answer, and you know Simon always hated when you mumbled. Wanted to hear your pretty voice loud and clear, he used to tell you.

His ever present frown grows impossibly deeper. Simon is speculating with himself, it's clear on his expression.

"With someone at work? Who bothered you, Y/n? Who the fuck made you cry?" he seethes, running his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from saying something worse.

You shake your head. Your instinct tells you to dismiss it, say that it's fine. But maybe you shouldn't, for once. Just tell him that Shepherd actually said something that was far from okay. He was in the wrong. You shouldn't be the one to suffer in silence anymore.

"There was this—you know the man who always wears a Rolex and has the corner office? Shepherd?" you say meekly.

Simon's jaw clenches, but still his hand on your thigh is so gentle. "What the fuck did he do?"

"He...I ran into him on my way home. Collided right into his chest." You swallow air, looking down at the point of contact between you and Simon. "And he caught me. Didn't let go when I tried to go away. And he had this look in his eyes. Was so close, too. I couldn't breathe."

"Fucking hell," Simon groans.

"He said he just wanted to talk...but then he started commenting on my dresses. That he'd watched me 'strut around', as if I purposely put on a show for him, or something. Told me to come into his office on Monday and wear something nice so he would have something sweet to look at. I had to beg him to let me go."

"He the reason you've been clutching your arm the whole night?" Simon asks tensely, nodding down to where the bruise hides underneath your sweater.

You didn't even notice you did that. But it's sore when you move it. The answer to his question comes from your uneasy glance up at him that makes him close his eyes. You think it's to contain something—to calm down.

"He won't get fucking near you again, Y/n."

You gulp, blinking. "But he works there...he's one of my superiors."

"No. The fuck he isn't. He's not stepping a foot inside that building again."

"What?"

"Price will have him fucking murdered for even looking at you funny. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of him for years, and this...I'm so sorry, love. You shouldn't have to put up with that."

You shake your head, looking down to the point where Simon still has the bloodied cotton pressed against your knee.

"You would do that for me?" you ask softly, almost a whisper.

"Do fucking anything for you, Y/n. Would have even during all these years that I was too bloody stupid to reach out." With his hand on your thigh, he shakes your leg gently, enough to make you look him in the eye again. "You were my girl, you know? Swore I'd protect you from every fucker who even looked at you wrong, and not only did I fail at saving you from those fucking worthless pieces of shit who laid their hands on you, but I didn't protect you from myself. Will never forgive myself for that."

Simon's words makes your lower lip tremble again, and you let out something akin to a whimper and sigh before speaking.

"None of that is your fault," you say. "Even though I would've appreciated if you talked to me before just leaving back then, I understand why you didn't. If it was the other way around and I thought you were out with three girls, I would've been crushed. Wouldn't be able to look at you again without breaking into sobs."

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. It's clear that he doesn't take your words to heart, but there's still something in your statement that registers within him.

"You never told me that you cared for me that much." Simon clears his throat, as if the words are a lump stuck in his airways.

You sigh. You know it's true—you held back on saying those three words for months, thinking that the time had to be right and he couldn't possibly feel as strongly as you did. Then he broke up with you and you never got the chance.

"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you everyday, but I was scared that you wouldn't say it back."

Simon scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Y/n. I loved the shit out of you. Thought everyone could see that from the way I trailed after you like a lovesick puppy."

A bittersweet chuckle comes from your lips, shaking your head to yourself. Blinking away tears stuck in your eyelashes. "I should've told you sooner." It's a decibel away from a whisper.

Simon looks at you as if what will come out of your mouth is the most important thing in the world.

"I think I...I still feel that for you. A little bit," you admit. "It's pathetic that I'm still hung up on you after so many years, but it's hard, Simon. Seeing you everyday and not act like we used to."

"Don't you think I haven't wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you every single day these past two weeks?" Simon seethes. "I've jerked off in the bathroom outside my office more times than I can count and literally cried like a pathetic jerk in Johnny's arms the first day you started work 'cause I was still so fucking hurt that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I'm a grown ass man, Y/n, and it was years ago. That's how much you meant to me."

"You cried?" you ask breathily, your head empty except his words echoing. Bend you over my desk.

"I've sobbed like a fucking fool countless times over you. The weekend after I saw you—after I thought that I saw you with them—I went back to my mum's house and wailed like a baby into her chest." Simon chuckles, a bittersweet expression on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"No. None of that shit. I caused it. Should've just asked you instead of taking off. Wasn't man enough for you back then. I'm the one who needs to apologize."

You bite down on your lower lip, doing something akin to a nod as you glance away, out of the window.

"And now?" you ask. "Are you man enough now?"

"Careful, love..." Simon says, his voice strained. "Don't give me hope."

"Hope for what?"

"You know damn fucking well what I'm hoping for," he answers gruffly. You gulp, lips parting to release a shallow breath. His brown eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide from the intensity of his gaze. You know that look.

"Simon, you know I feel the same. You know it." It's nearly a whisper, what comes out of your mouth. Leaning forward just slightly, closer to his face where he's kneeling on the floor. "I already told you earlier that I still—"

Your back is pressed against the cushions of the couch as Simon surges up from his place on the floor. Calloused, tattooed hands grip your face gently as those pink lips you've dreamed about for the past two weeks devour yours desperately. Shuts you up real good.

"I've missed you so fucking much," Simon growls, a certain ferocity in his voice that makes him sound like a beast bowing only for his woman. He kisses you again. "Please. Please let me show you how fucking good I can be to you."

There's no real point in acting as if his words isn't the best thing you've ever heard. You're already panting and preening for him, so acting as if the answer will be anything but yes is futile. You nod furiously, holding onto his wrists.

"Yes. Please, Simon. Yes," you answer breathily, desperately.

The grunt coming from his chest makes your thighs clench together, resonating deeply within your core as the memories of how his touch felt all those years ago spark up every last nerv-ending in your body. Before you even know it, Simon has his large hands on your waist, lifting you up from the couch and sitting down himself. Your thighs straddling his, face to face and chest to chest.

"Ow. Simon, my knee," you say with a chuckle, leaning back enough to keep the pressure off your wounded leg.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, love. Are you alright?" he asks, an instantly guilty expression on his face. Didn't seem to pick up on the laugh from your lips. He looks like someone just kicked a puppy in front of him.

"I'm just fine, Si." Your hands come up to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks underneath your fingertips. "Maybe we shouldn't sit like this, though."

"We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait for as long as you want me to," he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist. It almost makes you cry. He always did that back in uni.

"I'll literally fucking burst if I don't have you inside me within the next ten minutes. We'll work around it. I don't care."

Simon chuckles. A sound that comes from deep within his chest, rumbling and warm and so familiar. It festers within you and sprouts, spreading safety and comfort through your blood. Makes you smile, genuinely. He stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto your thighs.

The bed sinks down underneath your weight as he lowers you down on the sheets, so careful to not touch your now patched up knee.

"Just as desperate for me now as you were then, huh?" Simon teases, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his massive frame hovers above yours.

God, your body remembers. It remembers him so well, surrendering to his rough, deep voice as it whispers into your ear. It's an instant thing you feel—safety and simultaneously giddiness. You giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush, sneaking your arms around Simon's broad shoulders as you nod.

"Mhm, I am," you admit. Without shame. "I've really missed you, Simon. I really have." Your words are softer than before, void of the teasing tone they previously held.

He sighs. Presses his chapped lips to the corner of your mouth, slowly moving down to your jawline, neck. Simon is the toughest, biggest man you know. Curses like a sailor and can snap you in half. But oh, he's so gentle with you. When he wants to, at least. You remember those nights when desperation overtook him, clothes ripping and the breath fucked out of you. And you loved those nights just as much as the ones where he would just trace his lips over your skin for an hour before even touching your by then sickeningly wet folds.

But after years and years of separation and an emotionally wrecking fight that finally led to reunion, gentleness and patience isn't high on your list right now. You want to rip his clothes off and taste him again and feel him inside of you and kiss him even more and touch every inch of his skin. Though, Simon keeps trailing his mouth down your neck, hand inching underneath the hem of your sweatshirt as he hums. The sound makes you giggle. Fucking hell you've missed him.

"Something funny, love?" Simon asks, raising a challenging eyebrow as he lifts his head from your skin.

"Just that sound. Been thinking it about it sometimes."

"Thinking about it, huh?" he probes, pushing your sweatshirt over your head, forcing you to raise your arms. A deep groan comes from his lips as the lace of your bra is revealed to him, the fabric delicate enough to show the outline of your nipple. "Oh, fucking hell. You tryin' to make me come in my goddamn pants, yeah? It's not nice."

"I didn't know you'd see my bra when I put it on this morning, Simon," you chuckle, gaze flickering down to see his frankly hungry gaze.

"Didn't put it on for someone else to see it, did you?" he asks, something akin to doubt in his eyes. Or maybe not doubt, but nervousness.

"No. There's no one else," you admit. "Haven't...been many others since you."

"Not for me either. No one is like you. Tried, but it was bloody useless. Fucking nothing is better than my sweet girl when she's wrapped around my cock."

His statement confuses you for just a second before his hand sneaks it's way underneath your pyjama shorts, cupping your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wetness already soaking your underwear.

"Let me taste you, love," he pleads. You're already squirming, bucking your hips against his hand in search for friction. All you can do to answer is nod, and the second after, your shorts are thrown to your bedroom floor.

"C'mon, sweet girl. Been without you for fucking years. You can give me one more. Just one more," he tells you, pumping his fingers into you deliriously, possessed by the squelching sound your slick and his digits emit.

It's been thirty five fucking minutes of Simon making you come on his tongue and his fingers and then his tongue again. He's currently on his second round of fingering the living breath out of you. You had forgotten how thick his fingers were, and now with those added years of use, more calluses and lines and wrinkles? You haven't been able to utter a full sentence in a good while.

"Holy..." Your head is thrown back onto the pillow, back arching as if you were in a porn video, thighs clamping down on his hand.

"That's my girl. There we go, there we go,” he mutters, in a trance by the sound of it and his lustful stare.

You have to push his hand away after almost a minute of him drawing out your orgasm by lazily continuing to pump his fingers into you, whining when it becomes too much.

“Insatiable fucker,” you mumble as you lay spent on top of the sheets, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on your skin.

And he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

Simon chuckles, that deep rumble that almost sounds like it scratches his insides in some way. A wet, shameless kiss is pressed to your thigh, before he stands up to his full length again. His poor knees must be aching after having been pressed into the floor for so long.

“Missed her. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to spend time with his missus after such a long time, eh?” Simon teases, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“Just c’mere,” you sigh, smiling up at Simon again, the same way you did at 20. Or maybe not the exact same. Things have changed, you have changed. Simon has sure as hell changed. But it’s better. A deeper affection, a deeper understanding.

The blond giant climbs onto the bed, over you, hovering like a wolf ready to pounce yet a gentleness in his hold that draws away the sense of threat. His thumb cups your cheek, brushes over the skin under your eye. And then he kisses you, softly, something you didn’t he know he was capable of. Back then, it was always passion, urgency. Playful, desperate. This is longing.

You sigh against his lips, feeling his chapped skin and the stubble on his chin. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way you have this man over you again. It’s been so long and he’s dozens of pounds heavier with muscle, more tattoos on his skin and scars on his body. But he’s still Simon. And he’s yours.

“Condom? Please for the love of god tell me you have a condom,” he pleads, growls with need against the crook of your neck.

“In the drawer,” you giggle, stretching your arm out in its direction.

He wastes no time. His urgency makes him clumsy, makes you laugh even more, as he tries to tear the wrapper open with his teeth and fails. Gives you a warning glare that does no good job at hiding his fond amusement, while resorting to opening it with his hands like a normal person.

Simon’s hands close around the back of your thighs, pulling your legs up until they press against your stomach. His tip brushes against your wet folds, but his gaze is on your face.

“Ready for me, sweet girl?” he asks, the deep timber of his voice sending literal shivers through you.

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, Simon. Please. Wan’ you inside me,” you plead.

“Mhm, know you do, sweetheart.”

It’s all the warning you get before he grabs a hold of his cock, coating it in your slick, before guiding it towards your dripping hole. Your breath catches in your throat, a whine of discomfort coming from your lips as his thick girth presses into you inch by agonizing inch. And yet it’s so good. Fucking hell, you’ve missed it.

“Holy fuck, I forgot—“ you say, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know the sentiment. You forgot how big he was.

"God you're..." Simon growls, keeping still as he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching around his thick cock once again. "You feel even fucking better. How the fuck did I go without her all these years?"

Tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Don’t know if it’s from the sting, the longing, the pleasure. You’re still all pliant and sensitive from the multiple orgasms he drew out of your earlier.

Simon starts to move, rolling his hips slowly into you. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against your walls, drawing rumbles from his chest.

“Not gonna leave this pretty pussy again, no. ‘S all mine. Needa’ apologize for keeping her lonely for so many years,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The corners of your lips tug upwards.

“Simon,” you whisper, hands entangled into his hair. He tilts his head upwards, looking up at your face. “Fuck me.”

A pleased smirk grows on his face, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so, huh?” he asks, squeezing your thigh, before snapping his hips into yours.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your pathetic bed creaks as Simon bullies his cock into you, the filthy sound of your slick being pushed inside of you filling the room along with the grunts and whines from your mouths.

It’s like a switch turned on in his head when you told him to fuck you, because it’s nearly animalistic. There’s no class or precision in his sloppy thrusts, just desperation.

“Fuck, so sorry, love, but I’m gonna come,” Simon tells you, clenching his jaw tightly with restraint. His large fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he holds them up, his heavy weight flush against you to keep you in a mating press. Despite his words, there’s no shame in them. Just an apology. He wishes he could savor this, but it’s futile. His cock wants something else.

“It’s…it’s okay,” you manage to get out between his thrusts, a smile on your face while his movements grow increasingly sloppy and hurried. “Come for me, baby. It’s okay.”

“So fucking perfect,” he growls, while his thumb finds its way to rub tight circles on your clit. Damn it if he doesn’t make you come one more time. He needs to feel you clenching down on his cock like that. “Gonna make you come again, baby, I promise.”

Your hands paw at his broad back, digging into the chiseled muscles while your thighs wrap around him, bringing him in deeper.

It’s with his face buried into the crook of your neck that he comes with a snarl, heavy breaths likened to the ones belonging to a beast blown right into your ear. Despite his movements stilling, his softening length remains inside of you while his fingers flicker your nub deliriously.

“Uh-huh, I see you, I see you.” He grins, taking note of the bucking of your hips, the way your thighs attempt to press together as they squeeze around his waist.

“Simon,” you whimper, and that’s all it takes for him to press down a little harder, do it a little faster. You let go, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.

“There it is. Look so beautiful when you come on my cock,” he tells you, and you swear you feel him harden again inside of you.

But when you come down from the high, laying there spent and panting, he pulls out so gently. Presses a kiss to the swell of your neck before climbing off the bed and discarding the condom in the bathroom.

“Simon, can you get me a towel?” you ask tiredly, watching his naked figure through the open door.

“Was already on it,” he tells you, stretching his arm out through the spring with the towel in hand, drawing a chuckle from your lips. “Have to take care of my woman. Can’t leave her all messy from taking my cock like the sweet girl she is.”

“You’re so crude,” you say through giggles, Simon walking back into your bedroom.

“Only around you, love,” he answers, kneeling on the bed to dry you off.

“That’s a lie. A big fat lie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The soft fabric drags against your skin, soaking up the trails of your wetness coating your inner thighs and your folds. So meticulous, careful with each movement. Neat-freak.

“I love you.”

His head tilts up, brown eyes keeping you still under his gaze. And then he smiles. Skin by his eyes crinkling, white teeth showcased, towel discarded onto the floor. He covers your body with his, arms sneaking around your waist to roll you on top of him.

“I love you, sweet girl. ‘S probably gonna be the death of me, but like hell if I’m gonna do anything else than love you,” he whispers, dragging the duvet over your bodies.

Your body goes soft, pliant, in his hold. Comfortable silence fills the non-existing space between you, his breathing the only thing you can hear. Your eyes almost shutter closed when Simon speaks up again.

"I am so fucking you in my office on Monday," Simon tells you, chin on top of your head, your cheek on his chest. You can't see his face, but you know there's a boyish grin on his lips.

You just chuckle tiredly.

"Mr. Price would literally kill the both of us if he found out."

"Tough luck, love. I'm having you on my desk. End of discussion," he teases, squeezing your hip gently.

"You're insatiable."

"And you're beautiful. And sexy, and gorgeous, and entirely fucking mine," he whispers, growls, into your ear. "So we're christening my office on Monday, yeah?"

"You're taking the blame if Price walks in."

"Gladly. By Monday afternoon, nobody in our office will have any doubts about who I belong to."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Future Mr. Y/l/n Riley. You better fucking believe,” he says. “Just gonna get Shepherd fired and gauge his eyes out first.”

“Simon.”

“Yes. Nobody fucks with my woman.”

TAGLIST: @keendreamnight @xxkay15xx @evie-119 @darkravenqueen98 @naxxsstuff @sirens-and-moonflowers @narcoticv3nus @igotmajordaddyissues @fallenkitten @darling006 @iloveloveeducks @accio-serotonin

#cod fanfic #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #back to december

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slytherinshua · 8 days ago

Text

⇅　A-Z BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS　( 得能勇志 )

genre fluff , headcanons , yushi x reader cw mention of marriage (in like a future type of way) , fighting (nothing extreme) , jealousy , crying , not proofread & probably messy at points wc 1679 request yes note first time trying a fluff alphabet and honestly these are really fun !! i may do more for some other idols (although i did skip x cause it was giving me too many difficulties lmao) net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

A ﾐ AFFECTION

yushi is fairly affectionate with you. he chose you and he always wants to remind you of that. you can see his fondness for you in his eyes or the gentle way he holds you. he doesn’t need to say much for you to feel his affection, but he will tell you on occasion as well.

B ﾐ BEFORE DATING

yushi most likely started out as your friend before dating. he doesn’t like to rush into things, and he would want to feel sure about who he chooses to date before he does it. knowing that he works well with you and loves spending time with you would quickly grow into romantic feelings.

C ﾐ CONFESSION

he would tell you how he feels simply and straight forward, and then let you decide what to do with the information. he’s ready to face rejection but he’s also hopeful. but the last thing he wants to do is put any kind of pressure on you, so he’s a bit cautious and careful with his confession. his heart would of course be racing like crazy anticipating what you’ll say in response, but he doesn’t let it show on his face how nervous he is.

D ﾐ DATES

he’s a really good planner and would make sure to plan time for dates just as often as you do. he saves the fancier dates for more special occasions, like your birthday or anniversary, though. weekly dates would be more casual, like dinner and a movie, or just a game night. but he always makes sure that there’s some activity to enjoy together, because he really values quality time with you.

E ﾐ EYE CONTACT

eye contact is important to yushi. not to say he stares at you often, but he’ll always find your eyes in a crowded room or subconsciously look for that subtle contact. your eyes relax him. he can never survive staring contests, though. he’ll crack up immediately. but natural eye contact could last for longer, and he may even zone out while staring at you on occasion </3

F ﾐ FIGHTS

fights with yushi are rare because he’s very grounded and level-headed. he’d much rather talk through any problems than let it lead to an argument. he tries to take into account your emotions and feelings without compromising his own, but sometimes it can be difficult. you both know what is most important for your relationship, and ultimately don’t let petty arguments come between you both. fights could be a bit more common in the evening when you’re both tired, but yushi will never let it go unresolved for the morning. he hates sleeping mad at you.

G ﾐ GIGGLES

you are always making yushi laugh, more than anyone else. mostly because your humours match up perfectly. he’ll laugh when you’re intentionally trying to make him laugh, but he’ll also giggle at random things you do that he finds cute. his laughter always comes from a place of affection.

H ﾐ HUGS

he’s a casual hugger. if you’re cuddling on the couch, it would most likely just be holding hands or resting your head on his shoulder rather than his arms wrapped around your body. just a little bit of physical touch is enough to satisfy him. he’ll hold you tightly if that’s what you want/need though.

I ﾐ I LOVE YOU

i love you’s are saved for sentimental or romantic moments. he may slip them into a conversation at times, but they aren’t a set of words he uses lightly. to him, they hold a lot of weight and meaning, and he really wants you to know that when he says it, he really means it.

J ﾐ JEALOUSY

he doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, the feeling surprises him. he’s perfectly fine with the other guys spending time with you, whether it be playing games, eating together, or just talking. but what does strike a nerve with him is seeing any of them hug you or especially if sakuya or ryo tries to rest their head on your lap. he’ll push them away from you in an instant. his jealousy is rare but strong, only because you mean so much to him.

K ﾐ KISSES

yushi loves kisses!! whether giving or receiving he doesn’t care. he loves the ticklish feeling of you peppering kisses all over his face. he loves the butterflies that grow in his stomach when you kiss him deeply, hands tangled in his hair. he loves kissing your hand as a silent way to say thank you, and he loves when you kiss his cheek in the middle of a conversation.

L ﾐ LOVE LANGUAGE

his love languages are quality time and acts of service. due to his busy schedule, it’s often hard to spend quality time with you and he hates that :( but he tries to make it up by doing as much as he can for you. he tries to make sure he’s taking away stress from your life rather than adding to it. whether it be doing small chores or simple tasks for you, he makes sure he’s contributing positively to your life as a way to tell you that he loves you.

M ﾐ MARRIAGE

marriage isn’t something he's thought about often because he’s still very young. but he does definitely see himself getting married in the future. when the time is right and you’re both in the right phases of your life, that’s when he would most likely tie the knot. he looks forward to spending the rest of his life with you as husband and wife, but he isn’t in a rush. he likes to enjoy your current relationship as it is first.

N ﾐ NICKNAMES

his nicknames or pet names for you would probably just be variations of your name. common pet names like baby or love don’t feel exclusive enough. during cute or casual moments, he’d call you a nickname. during more romantic or serious moments, he’d just call you by your name. there’s a certain intimacy and closeness that comes with it, and he likes that.

O ﾐ OBSESSION

he’s obsessed with your heart. he values how other people act and care for people around them. he’s never met someone more thoughtful and caring than you, and it's one of the main things he admires about you.

P ﾐ PDA

he hates pda, especially around the other boys cause they’ll definitely tease him. he might hold your hand but that’s the most he’ll do to be honest. he’d rather save the romantic gestures and words for when there’s no one else to watch, because they’re just for you and you alone.

Q ﾐ QUESTIONS

he wants to know everything about you, especially in the beginning of your relationship. he’s like a curious cat about you, eager to find out what’s most important to you and all your habits. there’s a big sense of satisfaction once he can see that you love and value him as much as your other most favourite things.

R ﾐ ROUTINE

yushi and you have created routines together like eating dinner together whenever you can, doing your skincare together, or even morning kisses before work. the simple structure is almost necessary amidst both your busy lives. it’s a small sense of calm and something to look forward to.

S ﾐ SENTIMENTAL

i think he looks forward to the future more than reminiscing about the past. he finds it cute to think about your moments together as just friends or in the beginning of your relationship, but he doesn’t miss it too much. he values the connection that you’ve built from all the time you’ve spent together, and the present moment is more precious to him than past memories.

T ﾐ TEARS

he doesn’t really cry often. he’s just not super emotional in that way. he also finds it a bit embarrassing to cry in front of other people, the same way he doesn’t like pda. you may be the exception to that, but seeing yushi cry would still be rare even for you. when he needs comfort, you’re the first person he will go to, though.

U ﾐ UNDERSTANDING

yushi tries hard to understand everything about you as best he can. your feelings, emotions, situations. but there is a lot of communication to get to that point of understanding. it's not immediate to him from just a glance what you’re feeling, so he would more likely ask you.

V ﾐ VULNERABLE

he’s very vulnerable with the people he trusts completely, and you are definitely one of them. he’d never keep secrets from you and would confide in you for advice or comfort if he needs it. he’s more guarded with people he doesn’t trust, so he often keeps things to himself, but he’s like an open book with you.

W ﾐ WHOLE

yushi definitely feels complete when he’s with you. like a missing puzzle piece, everything fits into place when you are together. he can certainly function without you, but there’s always a little piece of him that only you can bring out. he’s never more comfortable than when he is with you, and you know exactly how to put his mind and body at ease. he’s at his best with you.

Y ﾐ YEARNING

he only realizes how much he misses you once he’s back in your arms. he’s so focused on whatever he’s doing for work that his emotions wouldn’t even have a chance to distract or overwhelm him. you may cross his mind throughout the day of course, but he only vocalises how much he missed you in person when you’re no longer apart.

Z ﾐ ZZZ

napping together may as well count as quality time for yushi. he gets tired and needs his sleep, but he’ll sleep better if you’re next to him <3 since it's rare to get multiple hours free to spend with you, he at least wants to feel close to you while he rests. he’s extra cuddly when tired. the type to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. somewhere close enough to smell your soap or shampoo since he loves those scents.

nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@lilly-cherry7,, @kpopandbookschild

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