#should I be flattered that my writing is liked? should I be offended that you’re shitting on my inspiration? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clementinesandwine · 2 years ago

Text

Jealous Kiba

I have absolutely been slacking on writing any fics, and this isnt my normal content, but I have been thirsting for Kiba recently. So obviously, I have to write this 5.3K word filth :)

✧˖ ° includes~ seemingly modern au, established friendship, nsfw, jealous Kiba, praise kink, choking, dom!kiba, sub!reader, biting, scratching, hair pulling, honorifics, reader called good girl etc.

You all gathered at Sakura’s apartment for her small birthday celebration. She had finally turned 21, the house smelling of booze and excitement, Kiba noted. He was stone-cold sober, having driven himself here, and not as happy as everyone around.

Kiba watched stealthily from his spot on the couch as you stood next to the pony-tailed idiot. Now he had nothing against Shikamaru, it's just that he was standing too close for comfort and he missed when you would stand that close to him, even if you and him had only been friends. You guys used to hang out every day, but recently Kiba noticed you distancing yourself. Probably because you were buddy buddy with Shaikamaru. God, Kiba could practically smell the jealousy on himself. He had no right to really be mad, having never confessed his feelings to you, but still, had all your days together meant nothing? Now you’re outwardly flirting with one of his friends?

You threw your head back, laughing. Kiba noticed the way you placed your hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder, slightly pushing him away. He knew Shikamaru wasn’t that fucking funny, so why the hell were you laughing so hard? Kiba watches as you lean in and give Shikamaru a hug, figuring you were getting ready to leave. He couldn’t help but notice the way Shikamaru held you, one arm on your waist, the gentle rub of his hand on the back of your head as you pressed flush against his chest. Kiba could have torn him apart at that moment, but he calmed himself. He could never cause a scene like that, but if Kiba ever sensed discomfort from you, he would be by your side in an instant. No matter who the person was, if they made you uncomfortable, Kiba was there.

He got up, flattening out his army green hoodie, and walked over to you.

“Hey (Y/N), you heading home for the night?” He asks you.

You jump, a little startled and a little nervous. You had missed Kiba, but distancing yourself was the only way you thought you could get over this stupid crush. You and him had been friends for years, you couldn’t ruin it over some silly feelings. But fuck, did he look good in green, the long sleeves of his hoodie pushed up giving you full view of his muscular forearms.

“Oh, yeah, I’m ready to hit my bed. Just gotta say bye to Sakura and thank her for inviting me,” you respond, looking up into his eyes. He towered over you.

“Let me drive you home then, you’ve been drinking, no?”

“Only like, two. You know I don’t drink like that. I’m fine to walk home, Kib,” you say.

“Well, you know I could never let a pretty girl like you walk home alone at night,” he starts, mimicking you. “Plus, I miss your stupid face,” He says, one hand on the back of his neck.

“Wow,” you say jokingly. “I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered with that two in one combo.”

Your laugh calms his nerves. “Oh come on, I can’t just be giving out compliments, (Y/N). But, you can take it however you want,” he says, flashing his canines.

“I take it you won’t have no for an answer, so I’ll meet you at the front door, hm?” You question, looking at him with doe eyes.

He swears his knees almost buckle with you looking at him like that. Faking innocence. Kiba nods his head like an excited puppy and makes his way to the door.

When you’re done saying bye to everyone, you walk over to the front door. You spot Kiba standing there, rocking on his heels. His hands were stuck in his jean pockets, head down, his scruffy hair falling a bit into his face. He looked so good.

“I’m ready,” you say simply, trying to collect yourself.

He gives you a look up and down, brows furrowed. “Where’s your jacket?”

“Oh, I didn’t bring one,” you say with a smile.

“Tsk, tsk. (Y/N), you know what kind of man I am. Did you really think I was gonna let you walk outside in that little dress with no jacket?” He begins to pull off his hoodie. His black T-shirt underneath lifts along with it, giving you a full view of his toned abs. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together, knowing if you put that hoodie on, the smell of him so close would drive you nuts.

“Kiba I’ll be-” you start, but are cut off by him shoving the sweater into your chest.

“No buts. Put the sweater on please,” Kiba says. You do as you’re told, the sweater falling slightly below your bottom. Almost the length of the white dress you were wearing. “There,” he says. “Much better.”

While you walk to the car, Kiba keeps the doors locked. He knows you would try to open it yourself and he just could not have that. He was too much of a gentleman. When he gets to the passenger door, he holds the handle, unlocks the door, and pulls it open for you. You can feel your cheeks warm at his action. You have to stop thinking of your friend like this, he’s just being nice.

He waits until he sees you are all set in your seat, feet comfortably in the car, before he softly closes the door and makes his way to the driver's side. You look through the tinted windows, openly ogling at his biceps and chest that are oh so visible through his shirt. You realize you do not really want to go home. You want to spend some time with the boy you’ve been avoiding for a month now. As he connects his phone to the radio and picks a playlist, you call him.

“Kiba, do you actually mind if we drive around a bit or something? I don’t actually want to go home, I was just tired of being around so many people,” you say, which isn’t a total lie. You didn’t want to be around everyone. And his hoodie was just a convincing factor for you to stay out with him.

“Of course, you know I love my late nights,” he says, looking over at you. “Especially when I spend them with you.”

Kiba can’t stand himself. For one, he’s being too corny. Two? He is trying to flirt with his best friend. Maybe he’s just confident after seeing you with another man, but he doesn’t think he wants to hide his feelings anymore. “Why don’t we go to our little spot by the water? Listen to some music in private?” he asks.

All you can do is nod your head and watch as he puts the car in drive. You keep looking over to his hands on the wheel, his muscles flexing with each turn. You feel stupid getting turned on by something so small, but you can’t help it. The sound of the leather cracking when he grips the wheel, the veins on his hands. You clench your thighs together, that familiar feeling erupting in your lower stomach. Kiba pretends not to notice.

He pulls up close to the water and turns the headlights off. One of your guys favorite songs starts to play, you make out the lyrics even though the volume is low.

“Oh my god, remember when we used to sing this so loud and your mom would yell at us to shut up cause it would wind up the dogs too much?” You ask, giggling at the memory.

“How could I forget?” He responds. “We did that everyday for weeks. We were always together.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy recently,” you lie.

“Busy with Shikamaru?” Kiba asks, letting jealousy get the best of him. How fucking stupid.

“Why,” you ask with a sly smile, still very nervous. “Are you jealous, Kiba?”

Kiba gives you a double take, blushing at what you just said, the color of his cheeks matching his markings. “No no not at all. I-i’m just saying you guys are hanging out a lot recently. Didn’t know if you guys had a thing or something. I mean, I didn’t peg him to be your type, honestly,” he says, fidgeting with his own fingers.

“What do you think my type is, exactly?” You ask, leaning a bit closer. You don’t know what it is or where your confidence is coming from, but you can’t help but tease the boy. He doesn’t take the bait, though, only shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah well, you’re right. Definitely not my type at all. He’s too quiet and laid back. You know I’m pretty quiet too, I’d like someone a little more outgoing to push me out of my comfort zone. Someone really funny, too, you know? A gentleman. Plus, he’s got a really big thing for Temari. We’re only been hanging out recently because he wants me to be his wingman,” you say, leaning back into your seat. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Wingman?” Kiba asks, again with his cute, furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I’m the one that brought Temari to the party. I guess I’m more of a wingwoman,” you say with a giggle. You look over, trying to maintain eye contact, but he keeps looking away.

“Oh okay, so when are you gonna start hanging out with me again,” he asks, leaning back in his seat. A stupid smirk plastered on his face. “Or is there more to ditching me than you’re letting on?”

You push his shoulder, admiring the feel of his muscle under your hand, only for a second. “No there’s nothing, you idiot. I miss hanging out with you.”

“Yeah well I’ve been missing you. And don’t tell Akamaru I said this, but he misses you too,” Kiba laughs. “If I’m being honest, I might’ve been a little jealous of Shikamaru,” he confesses. He knows you won’t judge him for saying that.

“Why’s that?” you ask, innocently. Your heart starts beating faster at the thought that Kiba is jealous of someone else for stealing you away.

“You’re my girl,” he says, looking up through his lashes.

“Don’t say that, stupid. You’re being so mushy.”

“But it’s true, you are my girl,” Kiba says. He knows Shikamaru isn’t a problem anymore, but he can’t stand the idea of you being with any man. He needs to make a move, even if it ruins the friendship. At least then he would know he tried. He can see your blush spreading across your face. You are no longer teasing Kiba, he always comes back 10 times stronger, your lips held in a thin line. “You don’t want to be my girl?” He asks.

You squeeze your thighs at his words and look down, no idea how to respond. “I-,” you start, but it goes nowhere. Your stomach is spinning.

Kiba slowly places his hand under your chin and brings you to face him. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Honestly, it's easier for him to be this soft with you, having not seen you for weeks. It's like all this time being away has given him the courage to finally open up. You still can’t answer, but Kiba can smell you. Smell the slight arousal. Notice how you have your hands neatly folded in your lap, squeezing your plush thighs together. All he can think about is being suffocated by those thighs. Kiba can’t believe his own confidence, but he finds it harder to believe how easy it is to turn you on. And how cute you are.

He leans into your ear. “You know,” he whispers. “The only thing I can think about is kissing those pretty lips of yours.”

You feel your heart stop. “Do it, then,” you whisper back.

He’s on you in a second, lips molding together like art. His hand runs up the back of your head, pushing you closer into his mouth. You shiver at his touch. Kiba licks your lower lip, wanting allowance to fully explore your mouth. You part your lips slightly, letting him in. You can taste the mint on his tongue as your hand slides over to rest on his chest. Kiba’s breath hitches when he feels your delicate fingers slide up to his neck and back down to his chest. You pull away at the sound.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say quickly, bringing your hand up to wipe your mouth. He snatches your hand before it reaches your mouth.

“Why are you apologizing, cutie? You getting flustered?” He asks. Of course he’s gonna be cocky now, knowing you want him the way he wants you.

“I just… I don’t want this to ruin anything, I just…” you can't find the words.

“I want you, (Y/N). I can smell that you want me too. How long have you been hiding it?” Kiba asks. You remain silent. “Come here, baby, come sit in my lap,” he says, pulling your arm slightly. You follow his orders, always having been so obedient. It turns Kiba on to no end and he can feel himself straining in his pants. The thought of fucking you sensless in his car floods his mind.

“I’ve been lying to you for a long time, (Y/N). I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” he says, kissing the corner of your lip to your jawline and down your neck. “I want you to really be my girl.”

You whine at the feeling of his tongue on your neck. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, placing his hands on your hips lightly.

“Yes… please.”

His lips are back on yours, hands gripping your waist and sliding up slightly, smooth fingers gliding up your back. Your hands are running up over his biceps, on his chest, fingers curling into his hair. You can’t help yourself, having finally been given the chance to touch the boy of your dreams. You can’t help but moan when his teeth graze your ear.

“Shh, don’t do that. You can’t handle what comes next, yet,” Kiba says. He doesn't want to hurt you.

“I-I can,” You grind your hips down, causing him to groan in return. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Please Kiba, I want it, want you,” you beg. He’s silent and you become overly aware of the situation you’re in. Sitting in your best friend's lap, practically drooling at the thought of him touching you. You’re afraid you went too far.

He stares at you intently before grinding your hips against him again. “How am I supposed to say no when you ask all sweet like that, hm? Look so fucking cute in my sweater. Always act so innocent, but you want me to ruin you, huh?”

He’s rambling now, sliding your hips against his even harder. You go to kiss his neck, biting slightly, when he lets out a hiss. “You gonna let me touch you underneath this cute little dress? Gonna let me take it off?” he growls into your ear. You can feel yourself slick from just his words.

“Please, Kiba. Touch me, I want you to touch me,” you whine.

“Where, baby? You want me to touch you here?” he says, letting his thumb graze over the wet patch forming in your panties. You gasp at his touch, hips bucking into his hand. “So sensitive,” he whispers.

“Don’t tease me, Kiba.”

“I won’t if you keep saying my name like that,” he responds, canines flashing through his smirk.

Your lips crash into his again, his hands sliding up under your dress. He palms the plush of your thigh, squeezes your ass and drags you closer against him. You move your hips against him as he slides his hands up, slowly taking off the hoodie and dress in one go. You’re embarrassed to admit you weren’t wearing a bra, the cool air causing your nipples to harden immediately.

Kiba throws his head to the side, swearing under his breath. “No bra, baby?” He smirks, kissing your chest.

You shy away. “They- they’re uncomfortable… never wear ‘em,” you whisper.

His thumb swipes over your nipple and you arch into him. “They’re so perfect, you’re so fucking perfect.” He’s practically devouring you, leaving purple and pink bruises all over your chest, collar bones, wherever he can get his mouth. He needs to mark you, show the world you belong to him, claiming you.

“Kibaaa,” you whine.

“Whaaat?” he asks back, mimicking you. He smiles softly, bumping his nose to yours.

You become shy all over. “Can, uh, can we go in the back?” you ask. Your body is pressed to his chest, hiding yourself slightly.

“Fuck yes, we can go in the back. Go ahead baby,” he says. You climb back and cover yourself with the hoodie as he makes his way out of the car and walks to the back seat. Opening the door, he climbs in and notices the hoodie. “Take that off sweetheart, let me see my pretty girl.”

He's back on you in a second, kissing you roughly, pulling you against him while sliding his hands up your back. He gets you onto your back and rolls up the hoodie into a pillow. After placing it under your head, he places his left hand on your cheek, kissing you softer this time. More passionate. His right hand slides lower, cupping you gently and placing little pressure. You grind up into his hand and he can’t help but grind into the seat. Kiba is unbelievably hard, especially with seeing how needy you are for him. He kisses his way down till he makes it to your sweet cunt. It's a tight squeeze, but it's all worth it. He has been smelling your arousal for over an hour now, he needs to taste you on his tongue.

Kiba takes a look at your cute, lace panties, noting the wet spot that's formed in the center. “These are cute,” he says, toying with the fabric.

You’re looking down at him, trying to muster up the courage to say something. “Th-Thought you didn’t just give out compliments,” you say.

Kiba kisses your thigh dangerously close to your core and responds, “Baby, I would give you any and everything.”

His fingers loop under the waist of your panties as he looks up at you for permission. You nod your head slightly and he pulls them off in one swift motion, holding them to his nose and inhaling sharply. You clamp your thighs shut, shy from his action.

“You smell so fucking good. Open your legs, babygirl, let me taste you. Please?”

You do as you’re told and it makes his cock twitch, still caged in by his pants. The way you respond, giving him everything he asks for, drives him mad. He takes a second to admire you, your body, the slick gathered on that pretty pussy of yours. He slides one hand up your thigh, rubbing softly, while the other uses his middle and ring finger to swipe through your folds. Your hips thrust upwards as he pulls the fingers to his mouth, absolutely drunk off your arousal.

He groans at the taste, his breath fanning over your dripping core, causing you to clench. Kiba is already addicted to you, needing to feel you everywhere. He kisses your inner thigh, mere inches away from where you need him most. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the soft flesh sends a shiver up your spine and leaves your mouth hanging open.

Kiba softly kisses your clit before licking a stripe through your folds. He curses himself for not trying to get with you sooner, already addicted to your taste. His tongue teases your hole before swirling it around your clit. Kiba’s hand slides up your waist slowly as he works his tongue on your most sensitive part, your moans only spurring him on. His fingers slide over your nipple, pinching softly, and you arch into him, grinding into his mouth. He moans into you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure and you can’t help but squeeze your legs around him. He slides his other hand up to force your legs back open, while his other leaves your nipple to wrap around your throat. He squeezes softly.

You gasp and your hands fly down to his hair, wrapping your fingers around his brown locks and tugging. He growls into you, making you moan, “Kiba o.. oh fuck, please,” you beg, not sure what for. He hums back to you, the vibrations making you tremble again.

He pulls his face away, only darting his tongue out to play with your clit, while the hand holding your leg open reaches for your entrance. “So fucking good,” he mumbles against you. “Such a sweet, little pussy for me.”

Kiba enters you slowly with one finger and you pull his hair harder. He feels like he’s about to burst, but he knows he has to get you ready. Wants you to cum on his fingers first. You’re getting louder, moaning over the music, when he adds a second finger. Kiba curls his fingers upwards and finds your spot almost immediately, as if he already knew your body inside and out. With his fingers inside you, he pushes his face back into you, circling his lips around your clit and sucking softly. You wonder where he got such skills for a moment and it makes you jealous, which doesn’t last long, when you feel his hand slowly slide down from your neck to your waist.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck K-Kiba I’m cl-close,” you stutter out.

“I know baby, you’re clenching around my fingers. So tight,” he mumbles back. “Go ahead, cum for me. I need to taste you. That’s it, good girl.”

That's all you needed to send you over the edge. That neat, little coil wound up so perfectly had finally snapped. Your legs were trembling, back arched, and head thrown back. Kiba couldn’t help but admire your expression as you came all over his face and fingers. He slowed his movements and finally pulled his face away, sitting on his knees while still finger fucking you slowly.

You look up at him, his lips and chin soaked with your juices. You can’t help but look down at his hand inside you, watching the muscles in his arms flex as fucks you, before looking back up at his face. He leans over and kisses you softly.

“You see something you like, sweetheart? You’re clenching around me again,” he says with a satisfied grin.

“You just look so good with my cum dripping down your chin,” you say out of breath.

“Oh yeah? For a second there, I could have sworn you were looking at something else” Kiba mumbles, kissing your neck softly and curling his fingers again.

You moan at the feeling, “Please Kiba, I need you inside me.” You wrap your hand around his length and rub through his jeans.

“Fuck, baby, you gonna let me use this cute pussy of yours?” he asks. You nod eagerly, sitting up with him and pulling at his shirt.

“Take this off. I wanna feel your skin on mine,” you mumble quickly.

Kiba laughs back, “Yeah? Or do you wanna just see my muscles? You’ve been eyein’ them this whole time.”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” you smile and lean in, pecking his lips. He pulls his shirt over his head quickly and you run your hand down his chest, towards his length, admiring his toned torso and smooth skin. You unbuckle his belt to the best of your ability and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his length out. You’re speechless.

“I-I don’t know if it's gonna fit,” you say, without thinking.

He laughs, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you. And if it's too much,” he starts, grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “you tell me right away, okay? I don’t care what the issue is, if it hurts, if you’re tired. There doesn’t even have to be a reason. You wanna stop? Just say the words, no questions asked, and I will take care of you.”

He slides his hand to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. You nod your head, but he won’t take that for an answer this time. “I need your words, my love. Tell me you understand.”

“I promise to tell you if I need you to stop,” you say confidently.

“Good girl,” Kiba says. “Come sit on my lap, princess.”

You swing your leg over his, sitting directly over his tip. He slides his hands up your back, kissing your chest softly. Your hand reaches down and lines his length up with your entrance. You wrap your arms around Kiba’s neck and his hands settle at your waist. You begin to sink down on his length, the stretch painful, but good at the same time.

“That’s it, love. Slow, just like that. Doing so good for me, so tight,” he mumbles into your ear. Your head is down, struggling to maintain any bit of composure, and his grip tightens on your waist. Kiba hisses through his teeth when you fully sink down on him, your walls already fluttering around him. You swear you've never had anything this deep inside of you before.

“You okay, babygirl,” he asks, searching your eyes for any lies. You can see the love he holds for you.

“Y-yes… just so, s-so full,” you respond.

Kiba pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth instantly. He pulls your hips back up before pushing you back down on his length, trying to find a steady pace. You melt under his touch and lean your head on his shoulder. Your moans sound directly in his ear and he can’t help but graze his teeth on your shoulder. When you whine, he sinks his teeth in softly. Not enough to pierce your skin, but enough to leave a mark. When he lifts your body again, he keeps it there.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you against his chest. Your arms fold in, hands left on his shoulders and your head remains next to his. Cheek against cheek. “I got you baby, so good,” he whispers, one arm around your waist, his hand squeezing your side. His other arm is pulled diagonally across your back, with his hand gripping your shoulder. He begins to thrust up into you, hugging you against his chest.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. To have you falling apart like this because of me,” he starts. Kiba pushes his head down and starts kissing along your collarbone. “When I saw you and Shikamaru today, I got so jealous, the way you touched him, the way you let him touch you. God, I’m angry just thinking about him touching you. Anyone touching you. I can’t let anyone else touch you after that.”

He’s full on grunting now, slamming into you at an ungodly pace. Your legs are shaking and your moans are spilling out, unable to control them anymore. The hand he has on your shoulder runs up the back of your neck and grabs a fist full of hair, pulling your head back. He nibbles on your neck and you can feel him grinning against you.

“You are mine,” he growls out, accentuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. You clench around him. You can’t help but topple over the edge again, your juices dripping down your thighs as you moan out his name.

“Oh you like that? Being told who you belong to? Look at you, baby. Always acting so innocent in public, but here you are, cumming all over my cock in the backseat of my car. You sound so fucking pretty, baby, taking me so well,” He continues. “Go ahead, tell me who you belong to.”

Your head is dizzy, trying to grasp on to anything as he fucks you stupid. The words coming out of his mouth have you shocked. The humiliation and praise all at once has you sinking your nails into his shoulder. “Y-you,” you try to start but only end up stuttering. “I belong to you, Kiba,” you gasp out.

“Good girl,” he kisses your cheek. Kiba can feel himself getting lost in you, and tries to hold back the urge to finish already. He wants to finish with you.

“I’m close, love,” he whispers. “Think you can finish with me?”

“Yes! Yes I can, please, feels so good inside,” you babble out.

He pushes you back, your back hitting the back of the driver's seat, and you hold yourself up with your thighs. Kiba wraps his hand around your throat again, squeezing slightly. You reach a hand down to play with yourself, but Kiba grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. You whine in response, knowing you wouldn't be able to form a full sentence anyway.

“It's okay, sweetheart, let me do it for you. You know I take care of you, don’t you?” Kiba asks, though he doesn’t expect an answer. Not with how blissed out you look. He rubs steady circles on your clit, his abdomen burning from holding back. Your legs are shaking and he can’t help but smile at you, the only words leaving your mouth being “Oh fuck” and “please.”

“Awww, you cockdrunk that easy?” He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. “Your pussy feels so good clenching around me, like you were made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you, baby? Fuck,” Kiba says. He’s never talked so much during sex, but it's so easy with you. And you obviously love the sound of his voice, judging by the way you flutter around him every time he speaks.

You know you can’t last much longer, the overstimulation from your previous orgasms having an affect on you. Your thighs are burning from holding yourself up. “Ki-Kiba I-” you try to start.

“I know baby, me too. Look at me, I want you to look at me while you cum on my cock,” he says, turning your head to face him. “That’s it, so pretty, doing so good for me. Taking me so well.”

You begin to shake, looking Kiba in his dark eyes, as your orgasm washes over you. He’s falling over the edge almost instantly, your pussy milking him for all he has, filling you until the sticky, white substance begins to slip out.. He pulls you into his chest and you relax against him, steady your breathing as he rubs small circles on your back.

“Such a good girl,” he says, kissing your forehead. You look up at him, puckering your lips for another kiss. He laughs lightly, kissing your lips, and pushes your hair out of your face. His hairs are sticking to his forehead with sweat. You can feel the slick covering your bodies, but don’t want to move.

“You want to be my girl, now?” Kiba asks.

“You idiot, I’ve always wanted to be your girl. I’ve always wanted you to be my boy.”

Kiba leans over and grabs that same green sweater, pulling it over your head and guiding your arms through the sleeves.

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I’ll help you take a shower… maybe cuddle and spend the night?” Kiba asks, hopeful.

“Yes, I’d love to,” you giggle.

He helps you put your panties back on and gets himself dressed. Getting out of the car, he picks you up from the back seat and brings you back to the passenger side, buckling you in and kissing your forehead. When he gets back to the driver side, you cuddle up to his arm and stay there the whole ride home.

Pretty sure I fixed any typos, but apologies if there are any. Also apologies for slacking recently on writing, just a full time college student thats burnt out haha :). Of course, will be doing my best to get some stuff out.

#naruto #kiba inuzuka #kiba x y/n #kiba naruto #kiba x reader #kiba fluff #kiba smut #naruto smut #sakura #shikamara nara #shikamaru #jealousy #jealous kiba #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka fluff #kiba fanfic #naruto fanfiction #kiba imagine #kiba x you

845 notes · View notes

ugotnojamzzz · 6 months ago

Text

Rulers of Ruin

Chapter 7

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: There will come a day when I will sit down and write an alluring synopsis for this series. But that day hasn't come just yet lol. Stay tuned for more chapters to come.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.

Wordcount: 2.0k

Masterlist

Chapter 6

“And who the fuck are you?” the voice sliced through the steam, sharp and commanding.

YN was too stunned to respond immediately. Maybe the steam had gotten to her head because she couldn’t seem to muster any protest. She quickly turned the water off.

“I asked you something,” the voice continued, more insistent now.

She finally found her voice, the only words she could mutter being an irritated, “What the fuck?”

“Well, that’s an unusual name,” the man responded nonchalantly, “childhood must’ve been rough.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm, making her feel like she might have accidentally stepped through the looking glass.

Still trying her best to cover herself with her hands, she ducked further behind the steamed-up shower door. “Will you just- get out?” she demanded, a mixture of irritation and embarrassment coloring her voice.

He tossed a towel in her direction with a casual flick. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said coolly, half-turning away to give her a semblance of privacy.

As the steam cleared, she could make out his figure more clearly. The man stood with an imposing presence, his black hair slicked back and wet, likely from the rain, adding to his mysterious aura. His drenched black attire clung to a muscular frame.

He muttered to himself, a slight edge of annoyance in his tone, “I told Taehyung not to leave his girls around here.”

“I’m not one of Taehyung’s girls,” YN spat back, her eyes flashing with indignation as she wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out of the shower.

The man turned back to look at her, slightly amused by her defiance. “Jimin, then? Huh, I didn’t expect—”

"I'm not anyone's girl, thank you very much,” YN interrupted him, her voice sharp. “Also, I should be the one asking who you are and what the hell you're doing barging in here." Muttering to herself, she added, "I swear to God, Namjoon's gonna hear about this, I can't even shower in peace."

The guy replied with a frown, "Didn’t know I needed to ask permission to use my own bathroom."

YN was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained her defiant stance. "Well, I—" she started, but he cut her off, clearly not in the mood for a drawn-out argument.

"Look, I've had a hell of a day, and I don't have time for this,” he said, his tone icy and resolute, “So, beat it. I need a shower."

“Do you even know who you’re talking to—” YN began, her frustration boiling over.

He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Don’t make me drag you out of here,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

Annoyed and flustered, YN wrapped the towel tighter around herself. As she moved to exit the bathroom, she heard him huff an exasperated, "Thank you."

Suddenly, a familiar, unsettling scent hit her, cutting through the soapy humidity. She paused, glancing back to take a second look at the stranger’s figure.

It wasn’t just rain soaking his clothes.

It was blood.

Her mouth opened but before she could utter a word, the door slammed in her face with a resounding thud. The abruptness left her momentarily stunned and the sound of the shower running quickly followed, drowning out any chance for further confrontation.

She scoffed, deeply offended.

Unbelievable, she thought.

As YN made her way back to her bedroom, she noticed that the other door across the living area, which had, until then always been locked, stood now slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling through it. She’d been curious about what lay beyond that door, conjuring up various theories, ranging from random utility closets to outrageous sex dungeons.

Her gaze flickered through the slit and discovered what seemed to simply be another bedroom. How very boring.

With a sigh, she retreated to her own bed.

The next morning, YN rose and dressed as usual, the events of the previous night still lingering in her mind. As she stepped out of her bedroom, she was surprised to find Jimin instead of Taehyung waiting to escort her to breakfast. She cast a glance at the door across the living area—it was shut tight once more. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had somehow hallucinated the entire encounter with the blood-soaked stranger.

She had always suspected that her meals might’ve been spiked daily with some substance aimed at taming her rebellious spirit. This thought now seemed more plausible than ever.

The silence between her and Jimin was palpable as they made their way down to the dining room. Their last altercation had left a lingering tension, and neither had spoken a word since.

As they entered the dining room, YN was taken aback. Instead of her usual morning bowl of porridge and sliced pear, a lavish assortment of breakfast foods was spread across the long table. Freshly baked croissants, colorful fruit platters, steaming pancakes, and an array of exotic cheeses and cured meats adorned the table, transforming the usually modest setting into a feast fit for royalty.

She turned to Jimin, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "What's the occasion?"

“Do we need one?” he replied with a sly smile.

As she took in the lavish spread, YN noticed Yoongi sitting on one side of the table, his expression stern as he peeled a tangerine. Seokjin, the doctor whom she recognized with his white blouse, murmured something to him, his face serious.

“Go on, help yourself,” Jimin said, gesturing to the feast.

YN sat down and grabbed a pastry. Jimin did the same, and for a moment, the room was oddly silent, the only sounds being the clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of Seokjin and Yoongi's conversation.

Suddenly, voices echoed down the hall, growing louder until the doors swung open with a flourish.

“-I swear it was glorious!” Taehyung's voice boomed as he walked in, accompanied by someone YN hadn't seen before.

Jimin rose to his feet, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Welcome back, Hobi,” he announced.

“Aw, all this for me?” the man by Taehyung exclaimed, his eyes wide with mock astonishment. “Oh really, you shouldn’t have.”

Taehyung giggled and was about to say something when another figure strode in with swift, confident steps. A woman short black hair framing her stern expression. “Well, isn’t that adorable,” she remarked coolly.

“Hello to you too, Soyeon,” Jimin said, his gaze following her as she moved with practiced efficiency. The girl didn't acknowledge him, instead heading straight to the table and starting to assemble a plate.

“Anyway,” Jimin said, clapping the man on the back, “it’s good to have you all back.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung added, a grin spreading across his face, “two months is way too long.”

“So, spill” Jimin said, turning his attention to the man beside Taehyung, “how was Singapore?”

The man stretched his arms exaggeratedly, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. “Hot, chaotic, and terribly humid” he began, his voice full of vibrant energy. “My hair almost didn’t make it.”

The girl, Soyeon, still focused on filling her plate, interjected dryly, “I know something else that almost didn’t make it.”

“Aish, we already thanked you, didn’t we?” the man replied in mock-offense, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He then turned to Jimin and Taehyung. “She’s not wrong, though. Things got... delicate a couple of times.”

“If that makes you feel any better,” Taehyung sighed, “things haven’t exactly been splendid over here either.”

“Oh, that’s right,” the young man said, “I heard you’ve been quite busy yourself. ” His eyes finally landed on YN and he approached her with a confident step.

“I’m Hoseok,” he said, extending his hand. His face was bright and cheerful, a strange yet gentle enthusiasm radiating from him that seemed to light up the room. Despite herself, YN found her hand reaching out to shake his.

“YN,” she replied, a bit taken aback by his jolly attitude towards her.

Soyeon, now with a plate full of food, finally glanced up. Her sharp eyes met YN’s. “Oh,” she drawled, her tone dripping with disdain, “so, that’s the Park princess, huh?” She eyed YN up and down with a sneer. “I thought that was one of your girlfriends, Tae.”

“I’m afraid not,” Taehyung stated with a chuckle, “YN’s more like my assigned headache. Namjoon’s orders.”

“Here’s your jacket, by the way,” YN said, handing Taehyung the item he’d lent her the evening before.

“Right,” he replied nonchalantly, taking the jacket, “thanks.”

Everyone around the table exchanged curious glances, eyebrows raised in silent inquiry. Had he perhaps crossed really a line?

Taehyung caught their looks and smirked. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said, shaking his head. “YN just enjoys a midnight stroll, is all.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes, somewhat grateful for his discretion. Her street-cred was already damaged enough as is.

Soyeon’s gaze flicked between them, her expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. “Midnight strolls?” she snorted, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Taehyung smirked, but before he could respond, Hoseok chimed in. “Come on, Soyeon, give him a break. It’s not every day we get new company around here.”

Soyeon rolled her eyes and took a bite of her food. “Whatever. Just don’t let it become a habit.”

As the breakfast continued and conversation flowed, YN found herself unexpectedly enjoying her exchange with Hoseok. He seemed genuinely curious about her, steering clear of any potentially upsetting topics and instead engaging her in discussions about anything and everything. His warmth and enthusiasm were contagious, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a semblance of normalcy.

To her surprise, YN realized she had missed human contact. Though far from a hyper-social person, the past couple of weeks had left her feeling isolated. Engaging with Hoseok was strangely refreshing and, even if she would never admit it out loud, it was a relief to talk to someone who didn’t seem to hold her in contempt.

“So, it was just the two of you for two months?” YN asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, God no,” Hoseok shook his head, his expression brightening even more. “We had one more with us. You’ll probably see him around soon enough.”

Jimin, who had been quietly observing the exchange, perked up at this. “Actually, if you guys got back yesterday, YN might have already run into him.”

YN furrowed her brow, confused.

“See, hyung,” Jimin told Hoseok, “YN here is currently settled in the attic.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. “You don’t say.”

“Jesus,” YN interjected, her voice dripping with exasperation as she pieced things together. “Please tell me you’re not talking about the raging maniac who barged into my quarters last night.”

“Raging maniac?” a voice echoed from the doorway, causing everyone’s head to snap toward the sound. Namjoon stood there, a smirk playing on his lips. “Now, that’s not a very nice way to talk about your new roommate.”

YN’s eyes flickered to the figure standing quietly beside Namjoon, a solemn intensity in his gaze.

“I suppose introductions are unnecessary,” Namjoon continued, his smirk widening. “I see you’ve already met Jungkook.”

Hope you liked it. If some of you are intrigued or interested in finding out more, don't hesitate to interact and I'll start posting some more chapters! Also questions and remarks and feedback are welcome xxx

Chapter 8 (coming soon..)

Masterlist

Taglist

@princess-sunshyn

@loumin908

39 notes · View notes

appalesbian · 8 months ago

Text

The @wilcze-kudly Avatar Hottest Woman Tournament got me inspired to write a silly little drabble. @korrasamibottles this one’s for you.

The door to the home gym was cracked, and Asami couldn’t help herself. It promised to be a long day at Future Industries and nothing motivated her like catching a glimpse of who she would be coming home to.

She tiptoed into the home gym to find Korra at the punching bag, hitting and kicking in rapid-fire sequences. Asami was temporarily mesmerized by the fluid grace of Korra’s movements coupled with the immense power that fueled them. She had clearly been at it for a while, if the rivulets of sweat dripping down the small of her back were any indication. Asami had half a mind to collect them with her tongue…

“Stupid fucking-“ Korra spat with a particularly strong kick to the bag, followed by a one-two punch. “-bullshit, what do they know-“

Asami frowned. Korra had mellowed considerably in the years they’d been together and it seemed unlike her to be so upset, especially so early in the day.

"Are you okay, love?” Asami asked. Korra jumped and spun around mid-swing.

“Ah, ‘Sams, you scared me.”

"Sorry." Asami pressed a kiss to the crown of Korra's head. "I wanted to see you before I left for work. What’s got you so upset?"

"You haven't seen?"

"Seen what?"

Korra's eyes blazed. She bent down to retrieve a piece of newsprint that lay crumpled on the floor next to the free weights.

"The fucking... poll."

Asami looked at the crinkled paper. The headline of whatever section this was (Living? Culture?) proclaimed "Republic City's Hottest Dame! YOU Decide!"

Asami snickered.

"This is supposed to be news? They’ll print anything these days.”

“Keep reading!” Korra insisted.

Asami skimmed through the article, something about giving the citizens the power to choose the city’s most attractive woman by mail-in ballot, until she came upon her own name.

“Asami Sato, CEO of Future Industries and wife to Avatar Korra, was a shocking casualty of the second round of voting, losing by a slim margin to Republic City Police Chief Lin Beifong, the new statistical favorite moving forward in the competition.”

Asami laughed.

“Good for Lin! She’s beautiful, the people are right. Maybe this’ll help her learn to take a compliment.”

Korra stared at her.

“But they chose her over you!” Korra exclaimed. “You, of all people! You! Have you seen yourself? There’s never been a more beautiful woman in the history of the world! It’s an outrage!”

Asami smiled and pulled Korra into an embrace, not minding at all that she was now at least 20% as covered in sweat.

“You’re so sweet.”

“I’m not sweet, I’m right!” Korra protested. “I mean, yeah, Beifong’s pretty hot, I’ll admit it, but these people have the nerve— the fucking nerve— to say that my wife isn’t Republic City’s ‘hottest dame?’”

“People have different tastes.”

Korra still glared in the direction of the newspaper in Asami’s hand

“You really don’t need to be offended on my behalf,” Asami reassured, releasing Korra from her hold. She sniffed exaggeratedly and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “I promise, I’ll make it through somehow.”

“Okay,” Korra grumbled. “I was going to go have a word with the editor of the Republic News, but I probably don’t have to do that, huh.”

“Nah, it’s all good.”

A moment later, a thought occurred to Asami.

“Wait a minute, are you in that competition?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Korra said nonchalantly.

Asami read through the remaining contestants.

“Yes, you are! And hey, look, you made it through this round!”

“Heh, good for me.”

“I was going to say,” Asami chuckled. “If you weren’t, I’d lose all faith in the people of Republic City.”

The softly flattered look in Korra’s big blue eyes was too much. Asami pulled her in for a kiss, letting it express anything more she might have said about how incredibly lucky she felt that Korra was in her life. Korra kissed back eagerly and held her tight.

“So,” Korra said, eventually coming up for air. “Should we look at the rest of the bracket and place our bets?”

“Yeah,” Asami laughed and opened the spread to see the full bracket of contenders. “Wait a minute… is that my mom?”

FIN

#korrasami #ahwt #was I writing this during our weekly staff meeting? I’ll never tell #ficlet

49 notes · View notes

shakirawastaken · 1 year ago

Text

dsmp if....it was taylor swift

i am the biggest swiftie dsmp blog here i am a swiftie i love taylor swift unless she sings new romantics at a show that im not at then i hate taylor swift

dream: paper rings by taylor swift (from Lover) - i have written a one shot to dream for stay stay stay like a year ago. please read that too amen - i feel like this song lowkey fits him so well??? just like lowkey - cause like man is rich as fuck hes like a CEO and stuff - BUT let me backtrack - you met him before he face revealed in the middle of the swamp in florida (orlando) - lets use my other post and say you met him in the grocery store SLAY - you “went home and tried to stalk him on the internet” - and obviously couldn’t find anything - but you reached out to him over text and he didnt answer you..bc he was like filming or smth and you were like bruh - but he eventually did answer you and you were like cool - you guys hung out ALOT - as friends - to the mall as friends, to the cafe as friends, to the movies as friends - you even met his friends...and then you figured out he was Dream - your relationship was like slaying at this point - you moved in with him! - and at this point now that you know Dream is Dream and is RICH - he showers you in gifts - expensive jewlery, trips to places, the mans love language is gift giving and he def has the $$$ to make that happen! - but one day he was like drunk or smth idk - and he was like “wanna get married?” - and you were like “LOL sure” - and he, in his lovesick era, talked about the ring he would buy you in great detail - you were flattered ofc and laughed along - the next morning he woke up from his drunk era and was like “did you really mean it” - and you were like “yes!! i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings whenever you want dream” - and he was like “bet” - and he made paper rings and you drove to the courthouse and GOT MARRIED STOP IT THAT IS ADORABLE AND YOU HAD AN ACTUAL CEREMONY LATER CUTHE MF CAMERAS THAT IS IT THIS IS IT - I WANT TO WRITE THIS INTO A ONESHOT COMMENT “ceo of minecraft” IF YOU WANT IT - runner up song for dream was wonderland btw

george: gorgeous by taylor swift (from reputation) - now LISTEN i was gonna do London Boy - but im saving that for another thing - GORGEOUS FITS and its not just cause george is actually very pretty - this takes place in LA, george is here and you work here - you also have a boyfriend - lets say you and some of your friends went out to a club one day - so did the dream team tm - and you just came from a stressful day at work so you did what anyone would do and you drank - enough to get you a bit tipsy - and somehow all the stars and planets and fates aligned and you bumped into mr notfound - and you were like “sorry!!” - and he was like “oh its alright” but he said it british - and you were like “HAHAHAH YOURE BRITISH” and you mocked the way he talked - you were tipsy alr - and he knows he should have been offended but he couldnt help but smile bc he thought u were cute - you two talk some more and you sober up through the conversation - its cliche but you forget everything else when u talked to him - including your very real boyfriend - and he shoots his shot “do you think i could have your number?” - your eyes shoot open wide and you just groan - “i got a boyfriend, he’s in the club and idk what he’s even doing.” and george is like “oh - but then you just keep going and youre like - “dude if you have a girlfriend im jealous of her” - and he laughed - “but if youre single thats honestly worse” - and he was like “how is that worse” - and you gathered all your confidence and was like “you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts” - and he smiled and said thank you - and you watched as his face moved to sadness - “i dont want to get in the way of your relationship, it was nice meeting you” he says as he walks away - DONT LET HIM WALK AWAY your mind yells at you - but you cant have him, bc youre taken - nothing you hate more than what you cant have - ding - why do all of these suck today guys im so sorry

OH SHIT I FORGOT I WAS GONNA DO STYLE WITH GEORGE UGHHH lmk if you want that

sapnap: you are in love by taylor swift (from 1989) - you both start as best friends in this scenario - like best friends since high school middle school school - you talked everyday , hung out everyday - it was natural that you would form a crush on the man - but then he moved to Florida - you totally understood why he did that - but the communication between the two of you died down - and so did your crush, it flickered out - but one day, he texted you - “hey! im coming back to texas for a couple weeks. are you down to hang out?” - and ofc you said yes - you two met up in a little diner, just to cach up - and it was like you two had never seperated - you were joking around and laughing just like the old times - eventually you two were ordering coffee at midnight as he told you get in the car - he said “i have a surprise for you” - who were you to deny him? - so you got in the car and he sped off to the old dirt road or something where you used to go in high school - shoulders brushing as you two sit in the trunk, he tells you to look up at all the stars - but you looked at him instead, and all your feelings came crashing over you - all you could hear and think about while he drove you home, while you slept was that - “you are in love, true love” - god this SOng THIS SCENARIO - the weekend before he moves back to florida - you had spent the night over, wearing his old shirt as a pajama - burnt toast because he dont know how to work the toaster - you decide to make a move, to let go of your fears on how he’s gonna react - and you kiss him on the cheek - you two spend the whole day being a little more romantic than usual - holding hands, kisses on cheeks, etc - you spend the night over at his house again - then he wakes up in the middle of the night with this look of ?? on his face - you turn to look at him, staring him dead in the eyes - and he stares back, the moon reflecting onto his face - “you’re my bestfriend” he silently whispers, scanning your face for ANY reaction from you - and your heart starts rushing and your head starts beating and all you know is that he is in love with you. and you are in love with him. - the night continues in a rush of kisses and rushed feelings - he of course had to go back to florida - but now he keeps a picture of the two of you in his wallet - and you see him in everything around you - you two facetime everynight and talk about everything with each other - because you are in love, true love - bonus: when sapnap gets home dream’s like “whats up with you” - and sapnap just shrugs and grins - “spent some time w my best friend” - “IM NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND?” - dream LMFAOO - can you tell im in love with this SONG quackity (hits different from midnights (the till dawn edition)): - I KNOW THIS SONG HAS A LOT OF DIFFERENT INTERPRETATIONS OKAY - im very aware of that its all i speculate and talk about - its like that one meme with the guy and the bulletin board and hes like “DO YOU SEE THIS” - but i interpret this song as someone singing to a person (bonus points if theyre a friend) they have a major crush on!!! except their crush is dating someone - and you can tell that the person they are dating aint it for them - its giving you belong with me - in this, you’re quackity’s neighbor - and you two have lived next to each other for a while - to the point where you two have become kinda good friends! youd eat dinner together, have some movie nights, etc - you could say you know him pretty well - well ig you didnt know him as well as you think - one night you knock on his apartment door, looking for someone to hang out with whatever - ignore that you had a crush on him that you were actively suppressing - and his girlfriend answers the door all nice like “hi! how are you!” - and youre like “im good, are you?? who are you?” - and quack pulls up behind her and is like “OH meet my girlfriend!” - and youre like “oh! nice to meet you!” - then you shuffle back to apartment ASAP - suddenly it hit you that the person you had a crush on was unavaliable - and suddenly you felt the anguish that comes from him being in love with someone else - it made you wanna throw up - you call another friend up and meet up at a bar, ready to drink your sorrows away - and the bar you go to is playing the song you and quackity listened to everytime together - you groan and explain everything to your friend who’s just like “oh my! love is a lie, don’t worry - it happens to everyone” just to get you by - but you knew this wasn’t like any other time - youve been so willing to move on in the past - it hit different this time because it was him - you drink so much you start slurring his name and your thoughts are plagued by him - someone puts you into a car and sends you off to your apartment - you slump onto your bed, and fall into a restless fit - dreams of his hair, and his stare, and his sense of belief. of times you once believed he could love you. - you dreamed of you melting his world like an argumentative, antithetical dream girl - the next morning, you hear a key turning in his door - and you cant help hope but hes coming in to check on you - so you rush to open the door - he jumps and looks at you startled - “hey! my girlfriend and i heard you come in from the bar last night! must have been a wild night!” he chuckled, wishing you the best of health as he retreated into his apartment - you stare at the spot he was just standing out, letting out a big sigh as you groan, your hangover catching up with you - “catastrophic blues, moving on was easy for me to do. it hits different, it hits different cause its you” - be glad i didnt pick “youre losing me” for this cause damn

karl (invisible string from folklore): - okay. i have already written a karl one shot. to holy ground by taylor swift. from red (taylors version) please go read after this. amen - okay - THIS OSNG THIS GOSNGS ITHSIGHSDJKFG - i cant get over the childhood best friends to lovers shit - but i dont think youre childhood besties - you just met when you were younger - its giving karl lives in a place where your family used to take you on vacation every summer - like to ur grandparents place or some white shit like that - every summer, you would go to the park, read and then go get fro yo at the shop near by - every year growing up, youd read stories of epic romances - and you couldnt help youd meet somebody there, sitting in that park - then, they year you were 16. you went into the fro yo shop. same as always - and there stood a 16 year old karl, in a teal shirt, asking you what you wanted to eat - there wasn’t anyone else in the store, so you two talked. and you two clicked instantly. - you went back everyday for that year - and did the same every summer after that - until one summer, you told him that you were moving to LA. to pursue your career - and he finally gave you his number - when he finally got around to going to LA he called you up - and you two reconnected, just like the old times. ate at your favorite dinner spot and everything. you decide to try something more - so you date long distance - three years later, you two meet up at the old yogurt shop. and then got lunch down by the lakes - now, years later you two live together. in the same small town you vactioned in every year - you two walk the park you read at every day - karl owns the yogurt shop you two met at - and you cant help but think that even through all the bad things that you had in your life - the only good thing that was stringing along for most of your life was karl - karl made you less vengeful of the boys youve loved before - karl made you better. and you made him better - the both of you cant help thinking about the wonderous time, and how pretty it is to think about how “all along there was some invisible string” tying the two of you together - i feel like i coulda expanded here but i think its cute idk sorry guys

wilbur (begin again from red (taylor’s version)): - i think i got a different era for each person SCORE! - wilbur is sOOOO evermore and red coded - but not 22 or ikywt coded but all too well and the lucky one coded - you had recently gotten over a breakup and were ready to start dating again - and a friend of yours hooked you up with this guy from her office - who she said “does not do typical officer work” - you ready for anything, so you thanked her and took her offer - and now the date of your date is here, and you couldn’t help but be nervous - you critiqued and critized every small bit of you, just like your ex did - but now youve grown to love what you wear and what you look like - you blasted your favorite song that he seemed to hate as you walked out the door, as ready for this date as you could ever be - you walked to the cafe that you decided to meet up at, expecting wilbur to be late - imagine the soft surprise that took over you when he stood when he saw you, waving to you as he strode over to meet you halfway - “hi” you said breathlessly, surprised at the common decency he showed you - “hey” he said slyly, making small talk with you as he ushered you over to the table he saved - he pulled your seat out and everything, helping you take your coat off. he doesn’t know how nice that is - while you’re talking you tell some stupid joke, trying to ease your nerves - and when he throws his head back laughing like a little kid? youre done for. - for the past 8 months you could only think about how love breaks and burns and ends - but on a wednesday, in a cafe. you watched it begin again - you cant help but smile back, agreeing to a second date - you meet up for a second date, this time in a record shop. - you two talk about your shared love for music - and he’s like “ive never met anyone who as many los camp! records as i do” - and you were like “bet!” - turns out, you two have the same amount - you two walk around the city, exchanging stories about your lives when he suddenly teases you for being shyer than on your first date - you jsut blush and nudge him teasingly while rolling your eyes. and he laughs again. - your ex never did that. he was never carefree, kind, and careless around you - but wilbur was. and your idea of love just grew and grew and grew - he walks you to his car, and the words about your ex are on the tip of your tongue. youre about to tell him about how different he is than your ex and how grateful you are for him - but then he cuts your thoughts off, launching into a story about him and tommy - and you find yourself wanting to talk about that instead - you can finally say what’s past is in the past - because on a wednesday, in a cafe, you watched it begin again. i love taylor swift. i could do so many more of these. please tell me if you want

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #karl jacobs x reader #karl x reader #quackity x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #taylor swift imagines #shakira shakira writes #dsmp if... series

148 notes · View notes

soldieronbarnes · 6 months ago

Text

ALRIGHT FOLKS, as I'm getting started on my Obikin BB fic, here's a snippet of another fic I considered for the fest but decided it would be too long; it's a WIP you've seen me mention before and that I hope to actually write and complete one day (the one where Nabooian culture has the fucked up tradition of lending one's spouse to esteemed guests --- Anakin is the spouse, Obi-Wan the guest)

“You think you’re doing me a kindness? That, by refusing to touch me, you’re saving me?”

Obi-Wan blinks, taken aback. Before, Anakin had seemed — fearful and shy, perhaps. Now, the Force brims with bitterness and anger around him.

“I’m not sure I would call it a kindness,” Obi-Wan hazards cautiously, despite his confusion. He’d expected the Force to bloom with sweet, if anxious, relief. Surely it is — basic decency. Surely this boy must have known guests who refused the offer, who were equally appalled by these archaic practices, and less beholden to appealing to his husband’s sense of pride, to stroking Palpatine’s ego, to flattering him until he let himself be moved whichever which way than Obi-Wan is.

“It isn’t.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t understand.

“I don’t understand,” he admits. “I don’t believe you want me to touch you.”

“It doesn’t matter!” The boy explodes. “It never matters! He’ll know, you see, he always does, and this is — this is a punishment.” He buries his face in his hand, and he might be crying and —

Obi-Wan is so in over his head.

“I was led to believe that in Nabooian culture — in its very traditional, almost antiquated culture, that is – that it is seen as a great privilege to, ah —” he stumbles. “Well. That the husband sees it as something to take pride in, a generosity upon his guest, not — not —”

“It is,” Anakin sniffs. “It’s a mark of hospitality, and plenty of people here still follow this tradition; Hells, plenty of wives enjoy and support it, Nabooians aren’t exactly monogamous, but — but I’m —”

Anakin swallows heavily, squares his shoulders, and when he lifts his head, his expression is resigned. Only a slight redness around his eyes betrays his feelings; when he continues, it’s very matter of fact.

“I displeased him, earlier. Knowingly. I shouldn’t have, I should’ve known better, but I — I didn’t think. I relied too much on him liking you, liking the Jedi, thinking that you were important, so that he would not want to offend you. I didn’t think he’d — but it’s perfect, you see. I get my punishment, and you get taken down a peg. And by tomorrow, you’ll feel so guilty about breaking your vows that you’ll grant him more in the negotiations than you planned to, and he’ll have won, again.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even know where to begin: The allusion to frequent spousal abuse? The delicate nature of negotiations? The accusation that he would be swayed by bribes offered, especially ones as crude as this one? Correcting the boy on the notion that Jedi take vows of celibacy?

“I beg your pardon,” he says. Better to focus on the most pressing issue. The others are probably best shoved aside until he has time and peace of mind for a solid, lengthy meditation session. “But I don’t think I understand why you dismiss my solution so easily. You’re welcome to spend the night, of course, even though I won’t touch you, and that should be enough to do away with any suspicions your husband might have.”

Anakin only glares at him. “I told you,” he spits, “I told you, he’ll know. He always does. Your squeamishness won’t be an excuse — it’s not about what you do, it’s about me. I didn’t do as he told me to, and he sent me to be fucked by you, knowing how much I hate it every time he makes me do it.” He turns, then, looking Obi-Wan straight in the eyes, his blue eyes burning like kyber on Ilum — except there’s none of the peace, none of the anticipation. Only hurt. “What do you think he’ll do to me, if I go back to him without doing as I was told, when he’s already angry with me?”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, and then closes it with an audible click.

“I promise you, it’ll be much worse than this,” Anakin continues. “You’re not ugly, and I don’t think you want to hurt me. That’s leagues better than I usually get. So if you want to save me,” he says, every word dripping with derision, ”you need to get over your religious guilt.”

#obikin #my writing

26 notes · View notes

literatureloverx · 2 months ago

Note

Don’t get me wrong for saying this BUT????? You’re damn SUSPICIOUS ! Like, how could you be so PRETTY, SO IN TOUCH WITH THE CHARACTERS YOU'RE WRITING, AND ALSO SO KIND????? YOUR SO INTEELIGENT OMFG DIEHDIEBJDJS ALSO, WHY THE NICKNAME SNOW WHITE 🪞🍎🍎 AND IT FITS SO WELL, BUT YOU HAVE MORE OF A DEER BEAUTY, YK????

Forgive me if I got carried away, but it doesn’t make sense.

Oh…wow.😳

I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered, but I’m choosing to be flattered because it seems more like aggressive flattery than a genuine offense. ❤️

First of all, thank you so much for your flattering comments! ❤️ I didn’t expect to receive a comment about my appearance after weeks of deleting the picture.

Regarding the "deer beauty," I suppose it’s because of my dark, fluffy hair? Or perhaps my eyes? I’m not sure, but I’ll look it up on Pinterest, lmao. Thank you so much, truly!!!!! ❤️

I must admit I’m not sure how to respond to all your compliments other than to thank you again and again. 🥹❤️

Also, you’re the first anon who has genuinely flabbergasted me here. (Would you like to claim an emoji, by the way? 🥺)

Edit: I just realized I didn’t answer the “Why Snow White?” question, so here it is:

I was simply going with whatever felt right. Then @yonseibananamilk approached me and asked what to call me, so I chose two of my favorite Disney/fairytale princesses for her to pick from: “Sleeping Beauty” or “Snow White.” She chose Snow White.

Also, I suppose you meant the vibe. Looking at those pictures, I get it.❤️

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

8 notes · View notes

anotherhumaninthisworld · 1 year ago

Text

Danton breaking up fights between Robespierre and his soon-to-be ex-boyfriends compilation

The surveillance Committee launched an arrest warrant against Minister Roland; it was the 4th (September), and the massacres were still going on. Danton was informed of it, he came to town hall, he was with Robespierre; […] I (Pétion) had an explanation with Robespierre, it was very lively. I tell him: “Robespierre, you are doing a lot of harm; your denunciations, your alarms, your hatreds, your suspicions, they agitate the people; explain yourself; do you have any facts? Do you have any proof? I fight with you; I only love the truth; I only want freedom.”

”You allow yourself to be surrounded, you allow yourself to be warned, he replied; you are disposed against me; you see my enemies everyday; you see Brissot and his party.”

”You are mistaken, Robespierre; no one is more on guard than I against prejudices, and judges with more coolness, men and things. You’re right, I see Brissot, however rarely, but you don’t know him, and I know him since his childhood. I have seen him in those moments when the soul shows itself entirely; where one abandons oneself unreservedly to friendship, to confidence: I know his disinterestedness; I know his principles, I proclaim to you that they are pure; those who make him a party leader have not the faintest idea of his character; he has enlightenment and knowledge; but he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor those lively forms, nor that spirit of consistency which constitutes a leader of a party, and what will surprise you is that, far from leading others, he is very easy to abuse.”

Robespierre insisted, but confined himself to generalities.

”Allow us to explain ourselves,” I told him, ”tell me frankly what is in your heart, what you know.”

”Well!” he replied, ”I believe that Brissot is at Brunswick.”

”What mistake is yours,” I exclaimed! ”it is truly madness; this is how your imagination leads you astray: wouldn't Brunswick be the first to cut his head off? Brissot is not mad enough to doubt it: which of us can seriously capitulate! which of us does not risk his life! Let us banish unjust mistrust.”

Danton became entangled in the colloquy, saying that this was not the time for arguments; that it was necessary to have all these explanations after the expulsion of the enemies; that this decisive object alone should occupy all good citizens. Discours de Jérôme Pétion sur l’accusation intentée contre Maximilien Robespierre (November 5 1792)

Robespierre: Camille's writings are to be condemned, no doubt; but nevertheless it is necessary to distinguish the person from his works. I consent freedom to treat Desmoulins like a spoiled child who had happy dispositions, and who has been led astray by bad company. His head sometimes wanders, but his talents are precious. But we must demand of him that he prove his repentance for all his thoughtlessness, by quitting those companies which have ruined him. We must crack down on his acts that Brissot himself would not have dared to admit, and keep Desmoulms in our midst. All these truths are not flattering for an author: but if the vanity of Camille Desmoulins is offended by them, he considers that he has attracted a small admonition sufficient to correct it. When he sees that he has deserved still more severe reproaches, he will feel the necessity of rallying to principles, and removing from himself all causes of an error that we are willing to forgive him for. Let him examine that his writings are the pain of patriots and the joy of aristocrats, and he will be grateful to us to see that it is only for him that we can forget them. I end by asking that his numbers be treated like the aristocrats who buy them, with the contempt that profanity deserves. I propose to the Society to burn them in the middle of the room (There is applause several times; Robespierre's speech was interrupted by applause and bursts of laughter). Desmoulins: That's very well said, Robespierre, but I'll answer you like Rousseau: "To burn is not to answer." Robespierre: How dare you still want to justify works that delight the aristocracy? Learn, Camille, that if you were not Camille, one could not have so much indulgence for you. The way you want to justify yourself proves to me that you have bad intentions. To burn is not to answer! But can this quotation of the sublime philosopher of Geneva find its application here? WelI, I retract my last motion; I ask that Camille's numbers not be burned, but that they be answered. Since he wants to, let him be covered with ignominy, let the Society not restrain its indignation, since he persists in supporting his diatribes and his dangerous principles. The man who clings so strongly to perfidious writings is perhaps more than misguided; if he had been in good faith, if he had written in the simplicity of his heart, he would not have dared longer to support works proscribed by patriots and sought after by all the counter-revolutionaries of France. His courage is only borrowed, he detects the hidden men under whose dictation he wrote his diary; he detects in Desmoulins the organ of a villainous faction which has borrowed his pen to distill its poison with more audacity and certainty. Desmoulins, who sees himself blamed by the patriots, finds himself compensated by the adulations of the aristocrats he frequents, and by the caresses of many false patriots, under which he does not perceive the perfidious intention of ruining him. You must know what he said in response to those who blamed his writings: Do you know that I sold 50 000 copies! I would not have said these truths if Desmoulins had not been so obstinate, but the point of order has become necessary. I therefore ask that the numbers of Camille Desmoulins be read from the rostrum: if there are individuals who defend his principles, they will be listened to, but there will be patriots to answer them. Desmoulins: But Robespierre, I don’t understand you. How can you say only aristocrats read my paper? The Convention, the Mountain, are they composed of aristocrats? You denounce me here, but was I not at your house? Didn’t I read you my numbers, asking you, in the name of friendship, for your advice, and to trace the path that I had to take? Robespierre: You didn’t show me all your numbers, I only saw one or two. To avoid quarrel I didn’t want to read the others, it would be said that I dictated them. Danton: Camille mustn’t be frightened by the rather severe lessons Robespierre’s friendship has just given him. Citizens, let justice and cold-headedness always preside over our decisions. In judging Camille, be careful to not strike a deadly blow against the liberty of the press. [A secretary reads number 4 of Vieux Cordelier, which excites reclamations, the reading is at several times interrupted by marks of improbation. The club, at the proposal of Robespierre, decides that it will hear the reading of Camille’s third and fifth number tomorrow, where he will justify himself.] The Jacobin Club January 7 1794

#robespierre #danton #pétion #desmoulins #if i had a nickel for every time this was recorded to have happened i’d have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice #but srs i’m with danton here #especially in the first example…#frev #frev compilation

57 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 6 months ago

Text

Fe Aspec Week Day 6: Supports

The restraint it took not to do another Lukas-Python support piece... But no!! I needed my yearly dose of Feliciazura!! And was personally offended that they don't have supports together!!! 😤 I usually like the idea that Azura doesn't realize she's ace and Felicia helps her realize why she's felt so different her whole life, but in writing these I ended up completely reversing that dynamic haha. I'm real happy with how they came out! Alright, roll Are You Listening?...

C Support:

🩷 Alright, here goes. One… two… eek! Lady Azura, I didn’t see you there!

💙 My apologies, Felicia, I didn’t mean to frighten you. If I may ask, what were you doing…?

🩷 No need to apologize, I was just, um! Just cleaning. Right.

💙 Are you certain…? You were standing in front of the mirror, with all these books open around you.

🩷 E-exactly! It’s a mess, so I was just cleaning all of that, no need to –

💙 Oh my, they’re all romance novels! I see…

🩷 No! You don’t see anything!

💙 All these pages you have open… your pillow in your arms… were you… practicing kissing, by any chance?

🩷 ACK!

💙 Haha, I remember growing up in Hoshido, all the little children would practice kissing with their pillows, too. I didn’t realize the custom was shared with Nohr.

🩷 Gods, this is so embarrassing. To be caught doing something so childish! Why can’t I get anything right? (leaves)

💙 Oh, Felicia, wait! I didn’t mean to embarrass her. I actually thought it was rather cute...

B Support:

💙 Felicia, there you are! I’ve been meaning to speak with you lately.

🩷 Ugh, if this is about the other day, there’s no need. I have been mortified about it ever since…

💙 Why are you ashamed? As I said, that’s a very common practice in Hoshido.

🩷 Yes, for kids! Kids who are clueless about romance and doing something silly with their friends. It’s not the type of practice you’d expect from a grown woman who should certainly know how to kiss by this time in her life. I’ve already proved myself a failure at everything else, I suppose it makes sense I’d be falling behind when it comes to romance, on top of all that.

💙 What makes you a failure?

🩷 I’ve never kissed anyone before. Like, really kissed them. I’ve fallen in love and tried to do it right, but every single time I leave like a coward when things get too serious. If even kissing is difficult for me, there’s no way I could do anything more…

💙 … Are you calling me a coward, as well?

🩷 W-what? Of course not, milday! Why would you say such a thing?

💙 Well, I have no experience with kissing either.

🩷 *sigh* Lady Azura, you don’t have to try and make me feel better. You’re the most competent, gorgeous, charming, and calm woman in the whole army. Surely you have hordes of suitors at your heels! You must have experienced everything that romance has to offer, by this point.

💙 You flatter me, Felicia. But there’s no need to put yourself down so harshly. From what I’ve gathered, you and I are very similar. I never had experience with those types of things because I never wished for them. Everyone seeks different things in a relationship.

🩷 Yes, but everyone wants to kiss their lover!

💙 Not everyone…

🩷 I told you that you didn’t need to make me feel better. If you’ll excuse me. (leaves)

💙 Ah, I really thought we were getting somewhere this time.

A Support:

🩷 Lady Azura, could we speak for a moment? I’m feeling a little guilty about how our last conversation concluded.

💙 Oh, what is it Felicia?

🩷 I was so caught up in my own worries, and I wasn’t truly listening to you. When you said we were very similar… did you mean, you also weren’t looking for the more physical aspects of a relationship?

💙 That is correct. You’ll need to pardon my assumptions about you. I do hope I did not overstep.

🩷 Not at all! B-but, doesn’t that frighten you? I’ve always feared that I’m not enough for others. Any time I think about confessing my love, it seems like I’ll need to be more, do more, than I want. So I’ve never acted on my feelings for another.

💙 It certainly can be confusing, at first.

🩷 When I’m falling behind with my duties as Corrin’s maid, Jakob just tells me to practice, practice, practice! I had hoped the same would ring true for these struggles. But no amount of practice or preparation has helped me, yet. If it’s true, and you also haven’t had experience like that… Well, how are you so content with not being enough?

💙 Why, because I am enough. When you find a partner, you find someone that completes you. Neither of you demand anything from the other. You communicate and compromise, as any relationship. But if there’s something you simply cannot give, they need not ask it of you.

🩷 Hm… that is a nice thought…

💙 So if you don’t want to kiss anyone, or do anything else that may seem unappealing, that doesn’t make you a failure by any means. That just makes you, you. No practice necessary.

🩷 Thank you milady, I’d never thought of it that way before. I have some thinking to do, I believe.

💙 I’ll be here anytime you wish to talk.

S Support:

🩷 Lady Azura, I have a confession to make.

💙 A confession?

🩷 Well, two actually. My first is that… on the day that you caught me practicing kissing… well… it was because I had hoped to kiss you.

💙 Oh!

🩷 I noticed my feelings a long time ago, but any time I tried to admit them, I got too nervous that I would fall short. I thought if I tried extra hard, maybe I could show you that I could give you anything you needed.

💙 Felicia, I hope you know that I will never ask you to be anything other than yourself. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are. And it's very sweet that you wanted to do something out of your comfort zone for me. You work harder than anyone here, I believe.

🩷 Of course I wanted to! I’ll do anything for the people I care about.

💙 I know. That’s why I admire you so much. I’m really glad the two of us could talk. It’s been so long since I’ve met someone so much like myself. Maybe it’s for the best that I stumbled in on you, hm?

🩷 Oh no, I’m still horribly embarrassed by that!

💙 Haha! And what of your second confession?

🩷 That’s right – my other one was… ack ! It was going to be a love confession, but I guess you already know that now! Ah, I’ve gone and done it all backwards…

💙 I don’t mind in the slightest. My answer, of course, is yes. I’d love nothing more than to be yours.

🩷 I just love you so much! I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes for both of us to be the most comfortable.

💙 And I vow to make sure you never feel lacking. Together, we will be more than enough.

#fe aspec week #fe fates #fe azura #fe felicia #'are you listening' is one of the goofy support songs lol #i like the idea of felicia just chalking her asexuality up to her usual inexperience and not realizing its a whole separate and normal thin #(....... hey ..... do people actually practice kissing pillows....? im too ace and ive heard that in fiction but maybe thats just a fake #cheesy thing they include.... it fit the cheesy fe support vibe but i genuinely wasnt sure 😂)#i know kissing isnt that drastic but it gave me a good starting point and realistic support topic #not that theyve shied away from sex before LMAO but i mean its not explicitly discussed like it is here #i know felicia put herself down a lot but i hoped that by the end i could show that azuras compliments were getting through to her ;-;#she deserves that ;----;#just like azura deserves someone to throw their whole self into loving her <3 #feliciazura #drabbles

14 notes · View notes