#‘let me get someone who can help you’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girl-lostconnection · 1 day ago

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A little addition to this. Shout out to @sundaescreamcheese because they’ve guessed right.

Warnings: Banished knight!Ghost x Witch!Reader x Bloodhound knight Soap, Elden Ring AU, Johnny is a bit of a dog, possessive behaviour, suggestive themes, smut at the end, biting

“Hail, witch”, gruff low voice would have startled you if your wards didn’t tense the moment he stepped onto your territory.

You don’t know what he’s doing here, this deep in the woods, this far from his usual duties and this far from Stormveil Castle.

But you aren’t going to be rude to the man in full armour, with a sword taller than you.

If whatever he seeks can be found without much hassle and he could get off your territory that would be great.

“Hail, knight”, you muse back, careful distance from him. Your wards won’t let him step much closer to the cottage, not unless you specifically grant him entrance and for now…for now you aren’t sure you should.

The man looks at you — someone’s skull now adoring the front of his helmet, his horse a menacing thing that huffs out cold air in agitation. Yeah, it’s no easy journey to get here.

That’s why you live here.

The man in front of you is tall and absolutely huge, more monster than a knight. Makes you wonder what happened for someone like him to become Banished.

What brought him to your doorstep.

You sigh, a little grateful that Johnny is too busy fussing over chickens in the backyard because gods know he can’t stand strangers. Even more than you so.

“You seek refuge or favour?”, you tilt your head to the side, eager to get rid of him faster. Johnny may not be able to run like he did before but he’s still one very good Bloodhound. You don’t have much time until he will stalk outside to see what’s going on in front of your house.

(The previous visitor that had a gall to grab your hand before leaving was hunted down by Johnny. Hunted down and brought back, the hand that gripped you resting on the first step of your porch)

Banished knight looks at you for a few very long moments but if sensing your agitation, gets off his horse — landing on his feet with grace, that sends shivers down your spine.

He’s not just big.

He’s in a very good control of his body and he’s very aware of his size.

He’s dangerous.

Your wards tense up, not letting him through when he steps forward and he freezes as if he forgot about them. Though who knows, maybe he did forget.

Knights did have tendency to feel like they are owed entrance wherever they go, perhaps this one is no different.

“I need to find another knight. Bloodhound”, his voice is low, muffled by the helmet he doesn’t take off — dark eyes boring into you, staring you down from the high of his height.

Your brows furrow at the strange request, heart thumping faster. There’s only one knight who has been around these parts of the woods.

And he’s no longer Bloodhound. You are not giving him back. You are not going to let anyone take him away and rip him off everything you and time out here have been slowly restoring.

“I can’t help you”, you voice sharp, unusually so and Banished knight tilts his whole body forward as if trying to press himself through the wards, his fingers curling and uncurling — leather of his glove creaking.

“I don’t need much, witch. Just tell me where he went. And I will leave”, Banished presses further, shoulders tense and voice curling around your throat like a grip.

He takes a breathe before stepping back, raising his hands in half-hearted placating gesture.

“I mean no harm. I can pay if you need. Just tell me if you saw him”, he sounds almost gentle, head tilting down so he can look in your eyes without you having to crane your neck at him. “I’m…a friend”, he adds reluctantly, like he needs to physically tear the words out of himself.

Your brows furrow further and coincidentally Johnny couldn’t find a moment to show up better than now, sound of his walking uneven — still a limp to his step.

He rolls out of the house, picture of faux nonchalance, despite the sharp edge to his eyes.

“Hen, you alright? I heard-“, words die on his tongue when he sees the Banished knight, eyes widening. There is a strange kind of hunger in his gaze.

You don’t like it.

Because Banished knight sees Johnny and almost lunges himself in his direction, the only thing stopping him are the tethers of your wards, curling around his throat, forcing him back, forcing him out.

Air smells like ozone, air cracks with pressure, your fingers quickly warming up with a spell because you were right.

This man is dangerous. He saw Johnny.

You can’t let him leave now. He will need to disappear.

But Johnny grips your shoulders and shakes his head, eyes mad and desperate, an anguish to his face that you don’t quite understand.

“Nae, hen. It’s Simon. Don’t”, he breathes out, fingers digging into your skin, eyes boring into yours.

You glance back at Banished knight and he’s sitting on his knees now, tethers forcing him down, still tightly wrapped around his throat.

He’s dangerous. You don’t know him.

But Johnny’s nose presses to your cheek, breathing shuddering and he doesn’t let go of you. He doesn’t pull away until you give him a slow tentative nod.

Your fingers flick, soft popping of tethers letting go audible in the air and Johnny actually lunges himself at the Banished knight, sending them both tumbling in the snow.

Knight holds onto him with such hunger something in you churns uncomfortably. What if he will take Johnny away?

Your fingers warm up with the subconscious desire to push the strange man (Simon, his name is Simon) out. Out of your territory, out of your woods, out of your life.

But Johnny looks genuinely happy to see him so you let it go, just sitting yourself down nearby. You’ll be damned if he gets injured just because you looked away for a second.

But Simon grips Johnny like he’s the lifeline and answer to his prayers. Simon’s palms slide all over Johnny’s body, stroking sides, checking for wounds or tethers (your lips practically curl in snarl when you notice. Who the fuck does he think you are?).

He pauses at Johnny’s bad knee, touch getting more careful, eyes expectant and suddenly on you.

“Old injury”, you tell him for some reason. Not like you actually have to. You don’t owe this man anything, he’s unwelcome guest in your home. “I did what I could. If I found him later, he’d probably be without leg by now. Infection practically ate him alive”

Banished knight holds your eyes for a very long moment and then melts back into Johnny, murmuring something under his breath — too far for you to hear.

Doesn’t matter. The man isn’t staying in your home. He’s dangerous.

You tell that yourself and finally go back into the house to put kettle on. It’s too cold to stay mad out in the open. He’s not staying here anyway, so there’s no need to get too riled up.

He’s not staying but Johnny still shifts his weight from one leg to another in the doorway, Simon looming over his shoulder. They both look like a pair of big, wet from snow dogs.

You look at Johnny unimpressed but he tilts his head to the side, grown out strands of hair falling over his forehead. It should be illegal to be that bloody handsome.

You sigh and gesture for them to get in.

Okay, tea never harmed anyone. You’ll let this man warm up and he’ll be on his way before the sundown.

With or without Johnny.

The thought makes bile rise in your throat but you force it down focusing on the task at hand.

You can’t keep him if he’d want to go and you won’t humiliate yourself with begging him to stay.

But Johnny, so attuned to your moods by now, so used to having you chat for both of you steps closer — hands wrapping around your waist, part of his weight leaning on you to give a break his healthy leg.

“Yer not happy”, he notes, nose pressing to your ear, huffing out air and you can’t help but relax, letting him lean on you. He’s warm, heat rolling off him in waves, seeping through the sweater you made for him. Your head tilts back on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your neck.

“He’s dangerous”, you muse quietly and ignore the chuckle Simon lets out. Banished knight is now sitting in front of your fireplace, cloak taken off and hanged on the chair to dry out.

Johnny just nods, calloused fingers rubbing idle circles on your solar plexus. It’s a long moment before he speaks again.

“I’m dangerous”, it’s said almost causally, his breath ghosting over your neck and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“It’s different”, you snap back immediately.

Simon huffs behind your back and if Johnny wasn’t leaning on you, you’d have probably thrown something in the man. He’s not going to laugh at you in your own bloody house.

“Simon’s not bad, hen”, Johnny breathes out, tone softer, teeth grazing over sweet spot behind your ear, heat dripping down to your abdomen. Bastard. He knows what he’s doing.

“And Simon is not staying here”, you grumble, pouring herbal blend in three mugs, suppressing the urge to shiver when Johnny bites your neck.

“Hen”, he starts and you already know where it leads, you head shaking quickly.

“No”, you cut him off and nudge him with a shoulder to step back so you can move. “Move, I need to give this Banished his bloody tea”

Johnny grumbles but peels himself off you, less than happy to lose the comfort and warmth your body provides. Less than happy to let you slip out of his grasp.

“He can stay in the barn”, Johnny offers and just grins when you send him a glare. His teeth itch to sink into the nape of your neck, press you into the bed, lick the fight and agitation out of you, make you soft and pliant.

“I said no”

“Hen”

“He’s dangerous”

“Hen, have mercy”

Simon watches the way you two bicker, enjoying that none of you even noticed he took the helmet off to drink the tea you placed on the table with more force than necessary, some of it trickling down the rims of the mug.

Simon huffs out a dry chuckle when Johnny tries to pull you back into his hands and you sidestep, smacking his hands away. Leaving Bloodhound almost pouting.

“Cruel”, he complains to Simon, hands crossing over his chest. But despite everything…Johnny looks good. Better than Simon remembers him.

He’s wider now, there is bulk to him that Bloodhound Knight Johnny didn’t have. His eyes are brighter.

He is talking.

Simon didn’t even know Johnny could fucking talk, thought all Bloodhounds are mute. Courtesy of the profession.

“I understand you want to sleep with your Banished in the barn today?”, the witch arches their brow at Johnny and groans when his eyes light up.

Like a bloody dog catching the whiff of blood on the hunt. Old habits die hard, evidently.

“You can stay”, Johnny announces to Simon like it’s his personal victory, like he brought his master a good game after the hunt and is waiting to get his ear scratched.

His grin so wide it’s a miracle his face doesn’t crack. Witch rolls their eyes but Simon sees the way their lips twitch.

Seems not only he has a soft spot for Johnny.

Maybe it should’ve made him feel uneasy but if anything he feels satisfied, like something finally clicked in place. Puzzle finally unlocking in his hands, showing him the reward.

Simon tilts his head to the side, scar crossing his lips stretching when he smiles down at you.

Yeah, he’s staying.

A day turns into a couple days and then into two whole weeks because of the blizzard, Simon pushing further and further.

Eyes heavy and dark when he’d catch a glimpse of your throat or Johnny’s bites — purple bruises on your neck, soft creaking of the bed upstairs whenever it happened.

Simon doesn’t tell you that he moved from barn to the cot in the kitchen and you pretend that you don’t know he’s been sleeping there for the last week.

Simon pretends in return that he doesn’t strain his ears, catching the smallest sounds Johnny tears out of you. That he doesn’t lean on the cold wall of the kitchen, thighs spread wide, his eyes closed. That his hand doesn’t find its way to touch himself, stroking at almost lazy pace.

After all, Johnny is not starving Simon of little love here and there, eyes electric blue, mouth slick on the inner side of Simon’s thighs — your taste still on his lips.

Simon worms himself into your life and starts moving bloody furniture so he can position himself more comfortably, clicking his tongue when you hiss at him — tilting his head at you the same way a heavyweight horse would at the farm’s cat.

His fingers catch your jaw when you grumble that he rearranges your kitchen again, his lips pressing to yours.

You take a step back just to feel Johnny’s warm chest pressing into you, breathing heavier than usually, hands wrapping around you.

Simon angles your face so he can slip his tongue in your mouth, groaning appreciatively when you let him in. When you tilt your head up, allowing his fingers to curl over your neck.

Here we go. Finally.

Simon licks your lower lip, finally pulling away and reaches for Johnny just to give him a kiss just as wet, now grinning like a well-fed creature. Satisfaction dripping out his every pore.

Johnny nuzzles into your hair, breathing out a low “think Simon can sleep with us now, hen?” and you just nod. Your legs jelly that don’t hold you properly, head stuffed with cotton, skin tingling from the heat of their stares.

That’s…an unexpected turn. You were ready for Simon to leave. You were ready for Johnny to leave with him.

But this…this is a surprise.

Simon presses a short kiss to your forehead and walks away to feed the livestock. There’s a new spring to his step, as if something just depressurised his spine, letting him grow a few inches up.

The issue arises only when it’s time to actually sleep because Johnny is insatiable and he refuses to move anywhere from between your thighs, not reacting to anything.

Especially not to Simon walking in.

You feel hot, Johnny’s tongue sending white hot sparkles down your spine, your eyes meeting Simon’s whose pupils blow wide and god, he’s more monster than a knight.

He’s the solide presence when he crawl in bed to pull you into his lap, big palms holding you open for Johnny, fingers sinking in the meat of your thighs.

“Eager today, aren’t we, sweet’eart?”, Simon sucks his own mark in your skin, teeth grazing your throat, his grip on your thighs getting stronger when you make the prettiest needy sound.

Music for his ears.

“It’s okay. Gonna take good care of ya. Gonna take care of both of you”, he practically purrs, sliding his fingers down your body to find the fluttering hole, dipping in it just to marvel at your body swallowing his first knuckle.

Johnny whines, his tongue circling lower, curling around Simon’s fingers, making you choke on your own breathing because too much-too hot-too wet.

Simon presses a kiss to your jaw, grin wicked and dark, stubble on his cheek scratching your skin.

“Be good, luv”, he murmurs, eyes heavy and hungry when Johnny sucks his fingers in, practically gagging on thick digits. “Open up for us”

Johnny bites on the fingers in his mouth before pulling away, dropping back down between your legs, sinking his teeth in the meat of your thigh.

Marking.

Simon smiles wider and adds a second finger, pushing in deeper, cooing in your neck when your hips buckle.

There’s no rush, love. They aren’t going anywhere.

After all, you already let them in. They might as well make themselves at home.

Johnny‘s tongue traces the bite mark on your thigh, his eyes fixed on another one he left on Simon’s knuckles that are currently sinking inside of you. Wet squelching sound sending a heatwave through Johnny’s whole body.

So welcoming to them. So sweet, hen. It would be their pleasure.

#elden ring au #call of duty #cod mw2 #girl.snippets #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soapghost #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader

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ssentimentals · 2 days ago

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prompt: this is reader’s first relationship & she’s just a little unsure of herself & how to be in a relationship?

seungcheol + inexperienced!reader

it's not a big deal. thats what you've been trying to tell yourself since seungcheol became your boyfriend. your very first boyfriend in your very first relationship. it's great, amazing and it's not.a.big.deal. if only your mind was so easy to trick.

'baby?' seungcheol calls over and you turn so quickly, you give yourself a whiplash. he raises one eyebrow at you, frozen with a big bowl full of popcorn in his hands. 'is everything okay?'

you gulp. you're doing a horrible job of not showing your insecurities if seungcheol can tell that something is wrong by standing five feet away. 'everything is fine,' you lie and it sounds so fake that you can't stop yourself from grimacing.

that, of course, only worries seungcheol even more. your boyfriend comes over, carefully placing full bowl on the floor before climbing on the sofa next to you. he doesn't get anywhere in your personal space and instead reaches out to take your hands in his. 'what's wrong?' he asks in such an earnest tone that you feel bad.

you almost want to tell the truth. your mouth almost opens, your tongue almost curves and forms the words that haunt your mind. almost. you draw back, swallowing hard. how can you tell the truth to someone like seungcheol? someone so confident and sure in himself, someone for who this relationship is not anything new; how can he understand you? you know that you're overthinking it. so many people told you that it's not a big deal and you agree, but what can you do if your mind always comes up with hundred and one ways to make you unsure in this whole thing? seungcheol's thumbs caress your skin gently and he waits so patiently for your answer that it makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. it also serves a good reminder - this is seungcheol. same seungcheol who held your bag and chaperoned you to every single class. same seungcheol who memorized your food allergies and favorite snacks, always checking labels of everything for any allergens and surprising you with sweets whenever you're least expected them. same seungcheol who took his time to know you, kept respectable distance till you got comfortable, waited for you to develop feelings for him as well. same seungcheol who looked the happiest when you agreed to be his girlfriend. it's the same seungcheol and you breathe out, willing your whole body to release the tension you've been holding.

'it might be a bit stupid, you warn, biting your lower lip.

seungcheol shakes his head. 'it's not, it won't be. share with me, baby. i can help, i promise. and if not then it at least will feel good to get this thing out of your chest.'

you smile. somehow he always knows what to say to make you at ease. 'i'm just worried, i guess.' you let out slowly, being careful with words. seungcheol nods, urging you to continue. 'like- ugh.'

it's unexpectedly hard. how do you tell him that being in relationship for the first time makes you nervous? that even during simple movie night you feel unsure on how to act? that your mind is clouded with 'what should i do' and 'am i suppose to do this' more often than you'd like to admit it? in the end, what ends up coming out of your mouth is: 'you're my first boyfriend and i'm just worried about... this.'

seungcheol waits for a little but when it becomes clear that you're not going to elaborate, he carefully asks: 'i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?'

you shake your head, gripping his hands. 'no-no, cheollie. you don't.'

'alright,' seungcheol sighs in relief. 'but if i do - please tell me, okay? this is new for me too, i need to know if my actions somehow upset you. it's not going to work without a good communication.'

you blink. this is new for me too leaves you breathless. god. of course it's new for seungcheol too - he never dated you. you are a new person and it's new for him too, he doesn't know everything about you. he is also in this for the first time with you and this realisation makes you want to laugh. 'i had the most ridicilous thoughts,' you confess, chuckling a little. 'like- like how i can be good girlfriend.'

seungcheol looks so confused and baffled that this time you laugh for real, letting your head fall forward on his shoulder. 'are you serious? babe, looks at me. c'mon, show me your pretty face.' he makes you look up, cradling your face in his hands. 'are you serious?' when you nod shyly, he groans. 'oh my god. what on earth- baby. i am with you. i am dating you. we are together. i am so happy, why are you even thinking about this?'

you blush under his stare. 'cause you know that this is very new for me, i don't want to fuck up or something like that.'

'just be yourself.' seungcheol says it with so much conviction that you don't doubt his sincerity. 'just be you, i fell for you, i don't need anything else. we will move on your pace, don't worry about it. you can do whatever you want to do, act however you like - just be you.'

it takes a gigantic effort from you to not cry. you hug him tight and seungcheol hugs you even tighter right back, plastering himself all over you and leaving tiny kisses on your shoulder and head. his words fill you with so much warmth and relief, you sag in his arms. 'thank you,' you mumble.

'you don't have to thank me,' seungcheol whispers. 'just be you and you'll be the best girlfriend on this planet.'

it's cheesy and it makes you giggle and feel all of the butterflies in your stomach. you kiss his cheeks, sighing happily. 'okay.'

seungcheol smiles, caressing your back lovingly. he lets you two enjoy this moment, only pulling back when you move. 'now let's go back to our movie night, yeah?'

you nod. 'cuddle?' you ask shyly.

seungcheol's answering grin is blinding. 'of course, princess.'

a/n: is it very obvious that seungcheol is in my top3 of the members to write for? :') hope you enjoyed this one! - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol imagine #seventeen choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups x reader #seventeen scoups #scoups imagine #scoups fluff #svt seungcheol #svt scoups #svt scoups x reader #seventeen scoups imagine #seventeen scoups x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader

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kaiser1ns · 2 days ago

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#. IT'S NAP TIME !

featuring 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, otoya eita

fluff. taking a nap with your boyfriend it's the most comforting thing, at least most of the time.

MICHAEL KAISER

Your boyfriend takes his one-hour nap during the day, it doesn’t matter if it’s early in the morning or late in the evening—he always carves out that extra time to recharge, unless you’re there.

As he lies sprawled across the bed, his shirt slightly crumpled and hair tousled, you can’t help but climb on top of him. Wrapping your arms around him, you press gentle kisses against his cheek, but he doesn’t stir, not even a twitch. Instead, he groans faintly, burying his face deeper into the pillow, murmuring, “Liebling, nap with me or leave me for an hour. Just one hour…”

But you know better. You know this isn’t just a regular nap. Tomorrow, he’s flying to Japan for this big football project, and the thought of being apart is breaking your heart to pieces. You don’t want to leave him, not even for a second.

Tenderly, you brush the soft strands of his blond bangs away from his face, taking in the calm expression he rarely lets the world see. This time, instead of kissing his cheek, you lean down and lightly bite the soft skin, hoping for some reaction.

“Mmm… what are you doing?” he grumbles, his voice muffled. He shifts slightly, his arm lazily draping over your waist to pull you closer. “Trouble, aren’t you? Just let me sleep…”

You giggle softly, resting your head on his chest your fingers idly tracing the lines of his tattoo. His heartbeat, steady and calm, feels like home. Even if he’s leaving soon, for now, this moment is yours.

ITOSHI SAE

The man lying under your bed sheets values a healthy lifestyle and an impeccable sleep schedule. But you? You value getting your fair share of sleep, even if it’s only occasional. Every time you decide to indulge in a well-earned nap, he somehow finds a way to kick you out of the bed—your bed. He came to your apartment seeking peace and quiet, but he was sorely mistaken. Not under your roof.

Eyes still heavy with sleep, your grip tightens around the pillow in your hands. It’s a weapon of choice because surely a good boyfriend deserves some form of reward now and then. Whether that reward comes in the form of suffocating love or a plush pillow smacking his face depends on the moment.

So you do what any rational person would. You throw the pillow at his head.

It sails through the air, hitting its mark with a satisfying thwack. Sae groans, rubbing his head as he pulls the pillow away. He slowly blinks his eyes open, only to find you standing at the doorway and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under.

He doesn’t say a word. Instead, what does he do? Exactly what he always does, he lifts the blanket in silent invitation—a silent peace offering. How thoughtful. He could have done that a few minutes ago.

You sigh, giving in because, well, of course you do. But not before marching over, slapping his arm for good measure, and planting a quick peck on his lips. It’s the least you can do for a man who’s equally deserving of your love and your wrath.

He doesn’t complain, he never does when you settle in beside him.

NAGI SEISHIRO

Sleeping Beauty, if someone asks you about Disney classics or to describe your boyfriend this is exactly what you will say. You fell asleep at the same time but you woke up because this same princess decided he wanted the whole duvet for himself and you just stared at him and it wasn't weird at all to stare at your boyfriend, not when he's so cute with slightly puffy cheeks and soft lips... Will he wake up if you kiss him?

You hovered your face above Nagi's, just like the Prince did in Sleeping Beauty. Gently cupping his face, you leaned down to kiss him. Seconds passed, and he still wasn’t waking up. Just as you were about to back away, his hands moved, softly holding yours and pulling you closer again.

That’s when you couldn’t breathe anymore. You placed your hands on his chest, breaking off the kiss. What a hassle—he just wanted to take a nap. Now, though, the taste of your lips lingered on his, and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Your princess was quickly turning into a beast, especially when you stole the blanket and curled up with it, pretending you hadn’t just woken him up. His gaze shifted to you before he hugged you from behind trapping you in his warmth.

"Whatever," he muttered. He’d deal with this later.

ITOSHI RIN

Your favorite thing to do when coming over to the Itoshi’s household was defiantly laying in your boyfriend’s bed to take a nap after school, while his favorite thing was to sit on his desk playing horror video games or watching horror movies. The amount of time you have heard “Here’s Johnny!” when he yet again rewatched The Shining, while you tried to rest and most importantly trying to convince him to join you under the warm blanket.

Tossing and turning, craving his attention, but Rin stayed focused on the horror movie, ignoring your pleas. Frustrated, you sat up and declared, “I’m calling my mom to pick me up!” At first, he didn’t take you seriously, but as you dialed and started speaking, his body tensed.

“Mom, you’re coming to pick me up, right?” you said into the phone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just need to finish some homework. Okay, I’ll wait outside in ten minutes.”

That was all it took. Rin abandoned the movie, snatching the phone from your hand before pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you tumbled back onto the mattress. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling him relax against you. You always knew how to get his attention—just a little acting and a few white lies did the trick.

“Here’s Rin,” you teased, whispering into his ear as his breathing softened. “Shut up…” he mumbled, still sprawled on top of you. You smiled, snuggling him like a teddy bear, drifting off together. After-school naps like this were the best.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

How naive of you to think you're going to sleep at all when he's here asking you all sorts of things while rummaging through your wardrobe or spinning in your chair talking about velociraptors… As much as you love dinosaurs you would love to have some decent rest, but no your boyfriend decided that this is the right time to tell you about the evolution of the planet, the Big Bang and how these cute reptiles are gone. You feel the bed dip and he is next to you, poking you with his finger like a little kid beginning for some candy.

“Ryu, stop it or I will cause another Big Bang and you will be the first one to disappear,” he stopped and then he was on top of you crushing you with his weight. “Not If we die together~”

With all your strength, you try to shove him off. After a brief struggle, he tumbles onto the floor, smirking when he notices your exhaustion—dark circles under your eyes and eyelids heavy. Finally realizing you need rest, he gets up and gently tucks you into bed. But of course, he’s not done yet. Sliding beside you, he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. Too tired to resist, you let him stay as he resumes his velociraptor monologue.

“And the way they eat people is cute—” he pauses, glancing at your sleeping face. “But you’re cuter~” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before dozing off beside you.

OTOYA EITA

Does he really think he can just leave out of the blue because he has “more important” things to do? Yeah, you definitely haven't heard that one before. However, Otoya Eita is nobody new in your life, a boy you've been seeing for a while, and even though you know what he's like, he's been acting like you're in a relationship for the past two months when you're not. You're either officially together or not, right?

He’s bold, you’ll give him that—trying to wriggle his way out when you cuddled on the couch taking a nice and peaceful nap. Now, with nowhere left to run, he’s backed into a corner. You’re staring at him like he’s the lowest on the food chain, and honestly, he finds it kind of hot. Good thing he had gum earlier—never know when a kiss might happen or when a girl might get so mad she leaves you speechless.

“Amaterasu,” he mutters, locking eyes with you, and you immediately facepalm. “Eita, we talked about this. I’m immune to ninjutsu—you know what, forget it.”

He blinks, stunned. Your surrender throws him off. You? Giving up? That’s never happened. So why does he suddenly feel like apologizing and staying over?

“If you wanna leave, just go,” you say, turning away. But instead of moving toward the door, he hesitates. “If I stay,” he finally asks, voice softer now, “Can I sleep between your legs?”

The things you do for him. Well, you like him, so you’ll try to work it out. Besides, he’s been faithful, most of the time. That’s gotta be worth something.

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euphoria-looney · 2 days ago

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Who Said Money Can't Buy Happiness?

"I want that new money. Crisp money, Straight-from-the-mint money. Fresh money. Young money. Push against the tide~" New Money from the Great Gatsby.

Yan?Batfam x Neglected!F!Reader

Pt. 1

Divider Creds: @selysie and @anitalenia

This plot was inspired by @niwaart and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff

You know I've never pegged myself as the type to be too careless and get hit by a truck, because I'm not, that truck rammed into me and I was on the sidewalk, so, if I wake up, I'm suing.

That's what I thought would happen if I woke up in my world. newsflash, and spoilers, I seemed to wake up in this cliche bat family story as the neglected girl. This is actually the story "I Stole the Loving Family of the Villainess."

We follow around a girl named Serena, a cute name, by the way. It fits her as the female lead. She has blond hair and blue eyes, and multiple love interests, from Connor Kent to Wally West, and so on. She is adopted by the royal family, the Waynes.

And do you see this cute portrait with her in the middle brothers to the left, sisters to the right, parents on each side of her, oh and how can I forget even the main bulter, and can you see that small blot of paint, if you squit a little more. Ah- there I am.

That blot of paint- that's me.

While I'm monologing this I'm PUSHING SERENA DOWN THE STAIRS.

You know you can't help but feel bad for me like I'm the legitimate daughter and I get nothing.

Yes, you hear this my bitches, bros, and non-binary hoes. I'm the Villainess. If you guys spent less time fondling over the basic y/n of a female lead you realize how miserable [name] is as a character.

Her mom is too busy caring for her other siblings that she finds it too bothersome to deal with the least talented or least intelligent that goes for Alfred too because, in this story, we're royalty meaning more than one maid and butler, so why waste your time when you can have someone else do it.

Doesn't help that [name] has ears so she hears every mocking word that is uttered by her servants.

And of course, the main family does not give a pinky toe if she dies so that's so cool.

So [name] being a cliche Villainess is exactly stupid and untalented but all she wanted was her family's love and affection which is why she kept sabotaging Serena, which led her to her death.

Getting her memories suck, I mean my ego that was skyrocketing got hit with a pebble which is not a lot but that's because my ego is huge, this girl put herself down so much that I swear if her self-esteem was a rock she'd be crushed by now.

I mean the size of her self-esteem was so low it would be the opposite of my ego.

I mean how can it not be high? I'm rich, pretty, intelligent, and I've had diplomas in more than one field, Mary Sue? More like Barbie. I'm perfect, in more ways than one, except for relationships I've lacked in that department but I've never had one before so does that count? No.

Did I mention I was rich?

So anyway got her memories, it's so... tragic, but don't worry snookums because even in this life there's one defining trait that I still have, I'm rich. Okay, so not rich out of my pocket, I am a princess umkay, but I wasn't a woman in multiple men's fields for nothing.

Anyway back to the case in point, before I "woke" up [name] was having an impulse, her hands were itching to shove this one good orphaned girl that stole her place in the family, what timing do I have to come back right when [name] decided to take action on the impulse.

Hey, at least a perk of being the main character is that you don't take any damage whether that be physically inside or out. But I don't think the family will let it slide they are yanderes.

Yandere is a term for a character who is initially normal but soon develops an obsessive-compulsive grip on the person they like.

"I-I don't know one second I was walking down the stairs and the next I f-fell... but the only person behind me was [n-name]" Serena whimpered, ah- yes the struggles of a female lead the stuttering.

"[name] I can't believe you shoved Serena! This is-" Meet Palmola, my mother.

"So what?"

"Huh?" Palmola's eyes widened.

No in fact the whole family's eyes were in shock.

Since [name] would always make some batshit crazy excuse like the ghost of Grandpa pushed her or something. But why lie, I did shove her, for a good reason too.

"She walks so slow and sloppy, does she have any etiquette? I hope she would, with the amount of time she likes to spend with you Palmola. Fast, efficient, but proper. You did drill that into my head since I was young, didn't you? You even got mad when I did it wrong, is it so wrong I treat her like how I was treated?"

"Young lady-!"

"We'll discipline her later, Serena are you alright? Here take my arm sweetheart." Bruce let Serena wrap her arm around his.

The siblings paired up with each other, and Palmola took one of her son's arms. Leaving me with no one. A normal occurrence, at first it did numbers in the social circles, and still does, so each time I was left embarrassed. How annoying.

"Announcing the Imperial Family, the Gotham Empire, The Waynes."

Everyone flocked to each of the family but mainly focused their attention on Serena, whether it be her face, jewelry, dress, or how sweet she was compared to me.

"Announcing the Imperial Family, the Metro Empire, The Kents." Meet two of the love interests that right she goes for the big brother and the little brother, originally I'm engaged to Connor, but tonight that would change, the engagement is getting annulled, and his reason to the court is "I have set my eyes on someone new, and with many competitors, I can't lose."

It wasn't hard for anyone to know who it was, I think the only one that didn't notice was Serena herself.

Actually, this was a huge arc in the story when all the love interests fight for her love, there was no victor as she did the poly relationship, which really confuses me doesn't she need to make many offspring for each of the families respectable titles, you can't just combine into one entire thing, can you? That be very messy, I guess you could just give away titles but then who gets-

Anyway, that had a lot of readers mad, usually the whychoose situation would be okay, but she mainly focused on Conner so there was actually no reason to choose this route.

Never mind, that's a conversation for another day that I'll just forget.

Connor approaches me grabbing both my hands, attracting attention.

"[name] there's something I have to confess..."

"You're breaking off the engagement"

"I'm breaking- wait what?"

"You've found someone new, that has many competitors and you can't lose a battle you haven't even tried winning, I get it. But I'd like a downpayment of 10,000 gold and you can give the 490,000 gold later to my personal account and we call it even. Deal?" Hustling, though it's a 50/50 shot with many deals with enough eyes on us I'm sure he'll give in.

"S-sure, right. Right- I'll get that to you immediately-" I gave his hand a firm shake before heading off to the...

If you guessed balcony you're wrong, I'm heading over to the food table.

"Did just see what happened?"

"Is she planning something?"

"500,000 gold?!"

"Sister, what are you planning?" Barbara came over.

Also, who calls their sibling sister, like sure, that works.

"What do you mean?"

"That marriage was meant to connect our kingdoms, you'd let that go so easily, and we both know your gaze on Connor, what are you planning." She spoke through her fan, in a hushed voice.

If I made a scene as to not let him go I'd be embarrassing you guys, but if I show that I'm okay with him leaving me I'm ruining a political standing that wouldn't even work out, I'd still do something wrong.

"Have some decorum sister, we haven't had a proper conversation in years, and this is the first thing you say to me? Typical Barbara you think you know everything since you're older and more "mature""

You could tell Barbara didn't take that lightly as she gripped the fan handle tightly, I literally didn't even do anything.

"I'll spare you from any more veins popping up on that face, don't be an ass, we both knew Connor is in love with Serena and that me begging him not to break the engagement would only bring shame onto our family, so I did us both a favor and ended it." I tossed my hair back before grabbing some croissants that were covered in chocolate, powdered sugar, and some strawberries.

Life really is great.

"What about the scandal that would break out."

"Again, it would break out either way, now do me a favor and go back to your group they're staring at me and it's ruining the snack that I have on my plate."

She let out a deep breath before heading off.

Speaking of which I'd rather have a place to place my food and eat it, pretty sure there's a table in the garden under the gazebo if I remember correctly and I don't but whatever.

Just to find a moping Jon.

"Should you be out here?"

"It's unfair once again he gets to have everything"

Oh? Do tell.

I raised an eyebrow at him cutting my croissant in half before placing a half in front of him.

He finally looks up his face turned shocked like I was a ghost or something.

"[name]?!"

I bit into my croissant, nodding.

"Why'd you have to go and break off the engagement, now I have Connor as competition."

I knew this happened in the novel but I just remembered how young he was he's around Damian's age and I'm about the same age as Serena so this was a cry for help.

"Why do you even like Serena?"

"I don't really, it's just... I wanted something that he couldn't obtain he was going to be the first in line, and he's just better than me in lots of things because he has training so I thought, at least I had Serena."

Sometimes I forget that back then age gaps had no restrictions.

"That just means fewer responsibilities anyway, aren't you a little too young to be worrying about any of that? Now, I brought over this croissant but since I'm nice I gave you half." I ruffled his hair and he tried to swipe it away.

"I guess you're right." He started gobbling the desert down.

Honestly, I don't even know why this was a love interest he's literally a minor, maybe that's why the author got backlash against that and the novel was an overall dumpster fire with a basic self-insert MC.

I don't know what's worse the fact that they kept dragging on the storyline or the fact that I'm now in the storyline.

I mean seriously he only liked her because of the plot, he got over this situation so quickly that you wouldn't even know why he was moping earlier.

Now back to the circumstance at hand I was at home and seems the family never forgot about me shoving Serena down the stairs, they almost forgot about me breaking off the engagement.

"... what if she got a scratch on her face? Or if the clothes ripped?! Are you listening to me?!" I zoned out for a good second.

See we had gone back to the castle and they kept rambling on and on about what could've happened to Serena had the fall been more steep or rough, but like does she even have even status to attend these events in the first place?

"Since you seem to not care about this we're cutting you off of money for the next month!" She hollered in my ear once more.

"What were you thinking at the ball?" Tim cut into Palmola's ramblings.

"Normalize giving contexts, Tim." He scoffed.

"I was sparring with Kon the other day and he made some bogus statement saying he was breaking off the engagement, I didn't think he would do it, but allowing him to? Have you any idea what this caused?"

"Who am I to stop Crown Prince Connor, Tim? He has a woman to chase, and wasn't going to give it up for this contracted engagement." I glanced at Serena who flinched and hid behind Jason.

"I still doubt that you'd let him go that easily, you've been obsessed with him since you laid eyes on him."

"And you know that because you're my caring younger brother or because you like to throw it in my face on the downfalls of my life?"

"[name]!" Palmola scolded me.

Bruce could only sigh at the scene.

"Palmola!" I retorted, bringing a tense atmosphere to occur.

Alfred arrived at the scene handing me a letter.

"To you, Princess [name]." I opened it to see the rest of the money that Connor promised me had been added to my account even with the 10,000.

I'm rich, but this is just the start.

"If that's all I'll be heading back to my room." I tossed my hair back before ordering the maids to prepare my bath.

"You're taking too long," I told the maids who were congregating among themselves instead of doing their jobs.

"Well, usually, Princ- I mean Lady Serena wouldn't mind-"

"Do I look like her?" I gripped the maid's chin.

"Don't worry, since it bothers you so much to draw me a bath you can pack your things up and leave tomorrow, you're fired." I pushed back my hair in agitation.

"What-"

"Did you not hear me, you're fired, don't make too much noise, go on." I shooed her away.

She just dropped to her knees and started begging me, but I made the other maids drag her out now all of a sudden they wanted to switch up and act proper.

"Now, with that out of the way, someone draw my bath." I rolled my eyes.

I do not condone maid abuse, but what's the point of working here if you don't do your job? So firing is the only option.

3RD POV

"That girl- I swear I don't know where she got that attitude from, did you see the way she talked to me?!" Palmola scoffed.

Duke could only think about how [name] seemed different actually the whole family could be thinking about that.

Damian kept stroking Titus' fur while thinking about how [name] didn't just keep her head down and take his insults. Wait- now that he phrases it like that, it sounds really bad.

Tim just thought about his friend Connor, he had been the one that Connor ranted to about how annoying his sister was but he didn't think [name] would take the cancelation of the engagement that easily, he thought [name] would least throw a tantrum at best. And since earlier he noticed how [name] looked at them at the stairway after. [name] looked at them like they were lower than her.

Dick was processing the whole thing, did [name] always talk like she didn't care for their approval? I mean [name] spoke like this could've been a letter delivered to her door instead of an important conversation. This conversation was important, [name] hurt Serena and canceled a political connection of a lifetime, he could feel a headache approaching.

Jason could only blink at the audacity, sometimes when this happened [name] at least looked like she gave a darn but not only was she okay with that Connor boy leaving her, but also being cut off [name] would at least beg for some forgiveness. But nothing...?

Stephanie would've had a jaw-dropping expression right now, but had her fan covering her mouth, holy lord did that really just happen? I mean [name] did not even try to bother her at the ball but she also gave up the man she bothered until her final breath and 500,000 gold?! That's an insane amount one and two when did [name] learn to negotiate?

Cassandra felt confused about what had just gone down, did she hear that right? That whole thing, just what occurred? [name] changed in two seconds, like she blinked, Serena tumbled down the stairs and then she just acted strange.

(What you're sticking up for yourself? That's criminally insane right there.)

Barbara had already dealt with how [name] did a 180 at the ball but she just thought that was because she thought she had a wedgy at the moment, though in general [name] had never done this so what happened this time?

Bruce well who knows what he's thinking he just looks constipated like isn't supposed to be saving Gotham in another life?/j

Bruce sat there, he didn't raise [name] like that, wait-. He didn't raise [name] at all... Is this his fault that [name] was acting out right now? No, he's been busy and with all the duty of the empire on his hands he couldn't pause it for [name], like yes, he does that for Serena sometimes- all the time but that's different she had a hard childhood growing up.

Serena, well, she gritted her teeth and clenched her fist. For the first time, something didn't go her way. And what was that attitude, who did [name] think she was? She shouldn't even act like that, at this point, everyone knows she's supposed to be in her position. I mean look at her.

So it's time to be the center of attention. Wouldn't you think?

Serena let out a few sniffles catching the attention.

"It's all my fault that she's in a bad mood, I'm sorry."

The family quickly came to comfort her. Never mind what they were thinking before, how could [name] be such a child in this situation?

After taking a nice bath and sneezing I was now changed into my nightgown. These things are nice.

I took [name]'s diary, so was not thinking, writing down her devious plans here, one of the reasons she was caught and executed, and she couldn't rebut it as they had proof.

So I'll do us both a favor and burn it.

Tossed into the flame I could only stare at the burning journal.

Another burning pile.

I should sleep I have a lot of plans tomorrow, and only a few months till school starts.

With a flick of my wrist, the candles blew out and the doors shut.

One perk about this world is the powers.

(H2O just add water)

So instead of actually writing the next part for any other series of mine I decided to make a new writing idea 🌝, I'm also making others in my brain as we speak but we're going to keep them there until I finish at least one of my series.

Anyway did you like it?

I'm going back to work now (writing), *le sigh*.

Happy early Lunar New Year though, I'm manifesting a lot of red envelopes to myself and many others!

If there's anything too cringy, plot holey, or grammatically wrong, do inform me!

#platonic batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected reader #batfam

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sreabhadh · 2 days ago

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Ope lol

Fortunately I have my older sister, who has a worse case than me and IS diagnosed, so I was able to look at that, look at myself, and well, 2+2=4

But yeah. Oohhff. Imposter syndrome + disabilities... yeah. For lack of better words; "big oohhff."

"But I'm not as disabled as THEY are." Okay but you're still disabled. Counterpoint. *Points to person in wheelchair* "Sure you're not as disabled as they are." *Points to someone else, any random person with a body that functions a normal amount.* "You're also not as abled (/able bodied) as them." Your disability may come in a different flavor and color your life in a different manner. But you are still disabled. And you are still valid.

Not your fault, hopefully you can escape the imposter syndrome and find some ways to take care of your body.

If you go in to get diagnosed, first off always have a list and lots of examples of your symptoms and their severity, and the effects it has and ways it limits your life and functionalities. But also, if you can, arrange it so someone else can drive you, and just, don't do all the things you usually do to try to manage it. You want the doctors to see you in bad shape on a rough day, not in good shape on a smooth day when you seem totally fine. Let them see what it's actually like instead of doing the normal social thing of being as presentable as possible at any given moment.

Also, seek out electrolytes, anything you can get that fits within your budget. My family gets Liquid IV from Sam's club in bulk, it's a little cheaper that way. My sister uses LMNT, and has prescribed salt tablets.

We have a wheelchair, a walker, and I have a cane. I used that cane quite heavily yesterday and today since I was walking around a lot (multiple hours).

Different people have different symptoms and severities, different systems and things they find help

Here's hoping you can find out what helps you 👍

Good luck my friend 🍀🤞✊

Well obviously I can’t have chronic fatigue, that’s a real problem for real disabled people that’s diagnosed by doctors probably. Clearly I just have some sort of perpetual exhaustion issue, that is also almost certainly my fault somehow

#chronic fatigue #advice from personal experience #electrolytes are life #I love my cane #I don't use it super often but it helps an insane amount when I do #I also recommend consuming copious amounts of salt lol #screw imposter syndrome and take care of yourself #treat yourself to some validation and self-love

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worshipthecrow · 3 days ago

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"Meeting the parents"

Summary: You received a call from your mother while you were with Sylus, your parents want to meet your boyfriend.

Content: Sylusx Female! Reader, Reader is exaggerating the situation in her head, death threats.

A/n: I introduced Sylus to my parents with the tete-a-tete function and more or less the things that happened are portrayed here, some comments were made after explaining them the whole game and stuff. English is not my first language, if you find any mistakes, let me know so I can correct them.

One, two, three breaths you took before opening the door and stepping inside with your heart pounding in your chest and cold sweat on your back, Sylus was waiting for you to return from your phone call.

His shirt half open and his lips swollen from the long kissing session would be a hot and inviting sight if it weren’t for your mother’s voice booming in your brain.

We want to meet him, you’ve been with him for how long? A year? And you still haven’t brought him home, if that was a lie don’t worry honey, my friend’s son is still single and very handsome.

Your mother’s playful tone made you frown, you exchanged a few more words and hung up the phone.

He smiled sideways at you, waiting for you to sit back on his lap to continue.

“Hey…” you didn’t let him finish when the words came out of your mouth like a suppressed cough, fast and violent “

“My parents want to meet you”

You noticed the slight change in his gaze and posture, but then he relaxed again, held out his hand for you to take, which you did without thinking because of habit, and making you sit on his lap, tangling his finger in a lock of your hair.

“When?” a simple question, you expected more, maybe nervousness, maybe that he would refuse, but there was only one question.

Why don’t you bring him tonight? I’m making pork ribs, your favorite, it would be a good time to meet him.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order said sweetly with a little threat.

“Tonight” you whispered, he hummed caressing the skin on your arm, nervousness didn’t let you enjoy the sweet touch.

“All right, if that’s what you want, sweetie” you let out a heavy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

And for the rest of the afternoon, it was you, stressed to the bone that what would happen in this inevitable disaster, someone would die, and you hoped it would be you, just to get away from this situation.

Sylus took you to your parents’ house on his motorcycle, you would have preferred to go by car, taking advantage of the traffic to get ready or to fake an emergency, but no, the way was too short and fast and now that you were in front of the door you wanted to vomit your guts on the floor.

It was he who rang the doorbell, just long enough to be heard but not annoying, the door was opened by your mother, the image was endearing, the chubby little woman greeted the two of you with a sweet smile letting you in, she still had her apron on, wet and you guessed she was washing the utensils she used to cook.

Your father was in the living room, you noticed the tiny sauce stain on his shoe, and you knew that today, of all days, would be the worst day of your life, nothing good came out of it when your father was helping your mother cook.

Your mother called everyone to the dining room, your stomach was doing somersaults, you walked stiffly to your seat, Sylus, out of habit, opened the chair for you to sit down and then sat next to you.

Your mother served your plate first, as always, the smell of the ribs, that delicious smell that always made your mouth water made you feel the worst nausea you had ever experienced in your life.

You watched her prepare your father’s dish, and the familiar fight of “one more” “no, the doctor said to watch your cholesterol” took some of the tension out of the situation, but knowing that the next dish to be served would be Sylus’ only reminded you of the chaos that was about to unfold, you prayed to any god that was willing to listen to you even though you had never been devoted to any of them.

Your mother took the plate placed two ribs and you held your breath as your mom’s voice came through your ears like the scream of a banshee.

“So, Sylus, what do you do for a living?” the smack of the mashed potatoes against the plate almost made you squeal.

“I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’reinterested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You buried your fingernails in your thigh, the way your father bit into the rib meat made your heart stop for a second and the look on your mother’s face didn’t make you feel any better either, you slowly chewed the tender juicy meat, feeling it like lead in your mouth.

“And what do you do in your spare time?” your father’s piercing gaze said he wanted to give him a shot between the eyebrows, too bad that wouldn’t work, you knew it too well.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vynil records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your daughter, my singing isn’t too bad.” The sideways smile made you blush as you shoved mashed potatoes in your mouth and avoided the zucchini from the boiled vegetables. “Do you like to sing? If so. You’re always welcome to visit my private karaoke bar.”

“Do you live with anyone? Your family?”

You bit into the carrot so hard that your teeth hurt.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule” you blushed and drank from your pomegranate juice as your mother looked sideways at you, you knew what was going through her head. “I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind.”

Sylus smiled softly, and you swallowed saliva admiring how his factions softened.

“I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of your daughter. The two of them offer frolic together at the ranch. I like seeing her be carefree and happy” you held back a surprised gasp at his words, you needed to scream, preferably at your best friend, as you melted into a puddle of mush, that was too sweet, ugh. “… if I might ask, are either of you interested in shooting or racing?”

Now you wanted to scream, but out of hysteria, even though you were a wanderer hunter it’s not like your parents were too happy about it when they expected you to be something else, like a doctor, a lawyer, even a teacher, gun handling was always a constant discussion when you lived with them and expressed your desire to be a hunter.

“I have licensed facilities filled with the necessary equipment. You’re welcome to enjoy them to your heart’s content, while it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people”

You decided to concentrate on your plate, while eating, you blinked for a couple of seconds noticing something strange but ignored it in favor of continuing eating your pork ribs.

“Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking her to auctions and fashion shows, I like seeing her shine, And her happiness is my happiness”

Your heart stopped at the softness of voice, you wanted to cry in his arms and tell him you loved him, but that would be too dramatic at a family dinner and you could do that when you got back to his house in the N109 Zone.

“What about the future, hmm?” everyone had finished as they spoke, you felt a lump in your throat hard to swallow, what about the future indeed, you squeezed your glass as you took a swig.

“I’ll always support her with whatever she wants to do. I’ll also stand by her side without question”

The Table was silent for a few seconds while your father picked up the dirty dishes and your mother took something out of the refrigerator, you recognized the pot immediately, you had seen it so many times during birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year.

You got up and opened a drawer and took out a plate and helped your mother unmold the flan, the color of the caramel reminded you of your childhood, when on your birthday your mother made a small mold just for you, of Christmas fighting with your older brother for the last slice, which in the end you shared sitting on the floor playing on the console.

It had been so long since you had eaten your mother’s flan, that seeing it now was just a balm for your stressed heart.

You left the plate with the flan on the table carefully, your mother took the knife out of a drawer and returned to the table to cut it.

“Everything you said was very nice Sylus” your mother’s voice gave you a shiver that went all the way down your spine to the back of your neck. “But alas for you where you hurt her, I don’t want to see her cry because of you, because I swear every time you go out you are going to have to watch your back, because if I have to, I will disappear you and no one will ever find you, was I clear enough?”

The sight was hilarious, your mother, the short woman, shorter than you in fact, was threatening the leader of Onychinus with a kitchen knife shiny from the caramel for having cut the flan, with a sweet smile as she offered him the plate with the dessert.

Sylus wasn’t expecting it at all from the look of utter surprise on his face, accepting the plate with a sideways smile.

“Like crystal” he replied softly and your mother smiled again as she handed out the plates, you breathed easy that she hadn’t stabbed him, your father poured the coffee, you put sugar and milk in yours.

The rest passed relatively quietly, lighter conversations and your father constantly telling you to take care of yourself on your missions and your mother reminding you that you could always come home if you decided to quit your job.

After finishing dessert and coffee your father took you to the garage, saying he had something to show you, you followed him thinking it would be some new car he was repairing, or a modified motorcycle, but no, he sat in his folding chair and you sat next to him, nervous about leaving Sylus and your mother alone for too long, you didn’t know if she would try to stab him in the back.

“Does he treat you well?” your father looked at you with his dark eyes, the ones you had inherited, and you nodded.

“He does”

“He seems nice, and he has money” you nodded, uncomfortable about that last “I was worried, when he said he stayed in hotels, that he worked with “individuals”, I thought he would cheat on you” your heart pounded in your chest, you once had that same thought but the fact that Sylus would always answer your calls, messages no matter the time or place removed those doubts a long time ago, “but then, he started eating the zucchini off your plate when you put them aside and the looks, he looked at you like you were the moon, like you put the sun in the sky, it gave me diabetes”

And you laughed, so hard that you threw your head back as you laughed at the top of your lungs, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your father looked at you like you were insane even though he was smiling subtly.

Sylus appeared a few moments later as you were catching your breath, your cheek half numb.

“Your mother wants you to help her dry the dishes”

You got up from your chair and walked towards the door, when Sylus turned to follow you your father called him to talk to him, you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t worried, if your mother didn’t try to kill him your father wouldn’t either, you went to the kitchen and your mother greeted you with a cloth to dry the dishes and you waited.

“I like him” she said “I like that he talked about you like that, he almost doesn’t seem real” you snorted under your breath, wondering what the two of them must have said while you were gone. “Better than your exes, definitely”

You groaned, remembering that your closest group of friends from high school still called your ex from that time “evil cockroach”, and still laughed at his love misfortunes when they got to hear something about him, you were fine staying out of it, but your mean side also felt satisfaction when it turned out that his last girlfriend had dumped him.

“He has everything you like as well, music lover, animal lover, and I am relieved to know he has gun licenses, that means he will always be able to take care of you and you will have good weapons for your missions” your mother dried the flan pot and put it back in its special drawer.

“The hunters association provides us with enough guns” although you weren’t going to deny that the Harrier 700’s were your favorite.

“He’s very much in love with you” your mother evaded the subject of your job, as always, you knew her stance on your safety and the many times you had been scolded over the phone when you were in the hospital was reminder enough “tie him up”

“Mom!” you shouted, shocked, you knew she meant ‘marry him’ but with Sylus it could be very literal that matter.

“What? You would have cute babies” you covered your face in embarrassment, leaving the plate you were drying on the counter so as not to throw it on the floor “and he has nice buttocks”

“MOM!” you shouted in a high pitched voice, definitely embarrassed and your mother laughed at you, you were aware of Sylus’ attributes, but you didn’t want to discuss them with your mother.

“He hides things doesn’t he?” you nodded, calmer at the change of subject, although it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss either, you continued drying the plates and glasses. “But you know what it is?” another nod from you “Well, as long as you know it’s okay, but I don’t want to get you out of prison”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, aware of the approval your parents were giving, your mother a little too enthusiastic, your mother and you finished drying the dishes just as Sylus and your father were coming back in.

The goodbye was better than the welcome and without the stress you felt tired all at once, you wanted to go back and sleep for the next week.

With a last hug to your mother and the mortification that she gave you a condom, you rode up behind Sylus on the bike and hugged him around the waist until you returned home.

You threw yourself on the bed, ready to accomplish your desires, Sylus pulled off your pants as you grunted and tucked you under the blanket, then lay down behind you, brushing your face with something, you opened your eyes and ripped the platinum package from his fingers and threw it on the nightstand, you cursed your mother.

“Don’t even think about laughing” you said through your teeth.

“You are kinda like your mom, she’s the one in charge isn’t she?” you sighed and laid on your back.

“Yeah, my dad has a bad temper, but my mom is the one in charge, if she says do it you do it” you saw his sideways grin.

“It runs in the family I guess, you’re bossy too, Kitten” he kissed your neck and even though you wanted to get mad you couldn’t, you were tired and wanted to sleep, until…

“What did you and my mom talk about?” The kissing stopped and Sylus lay back, towering over you resting his head in his palm and his elbow on the pillow.

“Your past relationships and veiled threats disguised as funny comments, who is ‘the evil cockroach’?”

“Ugh, my chronically unfaithful ex” you shrugged “that would be a better story to tell when you meet my friends, they make it funnier”

“Oh, so I’ll meet the group too?” the comment had come out of nowhere, but if you introduced him to your parents, who you were most worried about them meeting, your friends should be easier no?

“I guess so, although I’ll have to arrange the meeting when we’re all free” you were already getting a slight headache just thinking about squaring schedules so you could set up a meeting.

“I’ll be available whenever you want” you smiled softly at him, you were too grateful that he seconded you on all the things you wanted to do, whether they were ridiculously childish or not.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, now I want to sleep” you turned in bed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and put your face in the crook of his neck, Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist as he gently stroked your back.

You drifted off to sleep, as you thought about the best way to tell your friends that you wanted them to meet your mysterious boyfriend you talked about all the time. Maybe something like…

“Hey, do you guys want to meet my boyfriend?”

Yeah, that might be nice.

#sylus x you #sylus x reader #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads fanfic #lads fanfiction #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus love and deepspace

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rosenclaws · 2 days ago

Note

Can you write about flat!reader x any Logan, where she is insecure of basically having no tits (like me) so she wants to keep a shirt on during sex and stuff and Logan notices and stuff lol

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, dirty talk, mirror sex, doggy style, creampie, insecurity, the reader says self deprecating things about themselves, light choking, breast play

a/n: YES YES, I'm flat as fuck and I am super self conscious about them. These mfs look like mosquito bites on god. (I hate them so much bro just let me get some work done PLZ) Anyways Im doing this with Worst Logan bc I love him. Anyways.

Sometimes it was hard dating a man like Logan. It wasn't hard to love him, no not at all. Even with the baggage he claimed to have come with, it wasn't hard to deal with the nightmares or the moments of deep loathing and insecurity. You loved him and because of that being able to help him through it all was easy.

What was hard was dating a man who was over 200 years old and looked like a Greek fucking god.

The first time you ever saw Logan without his shirt was when you were visiting Wade. Logan walked out in nothing but pajama pants. You shamelessly eye-fucked the man before you. He was ripped. Strong arms, a six pack, big thighs, and a handsome face. Even after you started dating and managed to get him on a diet that was more than whiskey and cigars he was still unbelievably hot. You should feel lucky to have a man like that worship you and you love and appreciate him to death. The problem is that you felt like you couldn't compare.

Logan loves you and you know he does but when you're looking in the mirror you can't help but notice you're lacking in one specific area. Your boobs. You were flat and the world seemed to never let you forget it.

Cute tops you could never wear because your chest couldn't keep them up. Jokes about being flat as a board. You couldn't even hold them in your hands. You hated them. Logan never said anything about them but you were always too afraid to bring it up.

So you sat in this limbo of deep insecurity.

"Sweetheart? You still in there?" Logans muffled voice comes from behind the bathroom door.

Shit you didn't mean to be here for so long. A shower had turned into staring at the mirror. You covered them in your hands, pushing them together and huffing when they just looked sad. The events from earlier in the night replaying over in your head.

Ever since Logan showed up in the universe he had garnered some attention. The Wolverine was hard to hide. People would point and whisper whenever they saw him. Gossip about who he was and why he was here. It was all pointless to Logan. Still in the bathroom of the bar you managed to catch a conversation.

Two beautiful women talking about your boyfriend and how badly they wanted him. Talking about flirting with him and taking him home. It just hurt a little. Sure Logan could care less about anyone's advances but yours but they had truly gotten into your head.

Would Logan want someone who had...better assets?

Would he want a woman who's breasts he could hold, squeeze, rest his head on? It was silly but they were the one thing that you honestly just didn't like about yourself so it was hard to think logically about it.

"I'm coming in." Logan's voice calls again. You curse quietly as you scramble to get a shirt on. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. Logan's eyes shamelessly look you up and down as he enters the bathroom. A small smirk growing on his lips as he leans against the door. You bite your lip as you look down towards the counter.

"Sorry, I just wanted to take an extra long shower." You lie, smiling at Logan.

He hums and pushes off the door. He comes to stand behind you, his arms snaking around your waist. You were dressed in nothing but a shirt and underwear and Logan liked it. A lot.

"Should've joined you. Could have helped get your back." Logan purrs, his growing bulge pressing against your back.

“Oh please we’d still be in the shower if you had joined me.” You tease, slipping out of his grip. Logan furrows his brows as he follows you like a puppy to bed.

"You say that like it's a bad thing sweetheart."

As you lay on the bed Logan crawls in-between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. He purrs as you reach and run your fingers through his hair, scratching his head in all the spots you know he loves.

"Not a bad thing honey, but our water bill isn't a fan." Logan gets up on his knees, a devilish smirk appearing on his lips as his hands snake up your legs.

"Fuck the water bill, If I want to fuck my gorgeous girlfriend I will." You giggle as he dips his head down. The scruff of his beard tickles your skin as he nibbles on your thighs.

"Fuck baby, I can't get enough of you." He kneels between your legs and his hands slip up your body. The moment his hands go under your shirt you flinch. You didn't mean to flinch but you did. It was a small movement but it was there and Logan felt it immediately.

"What's wrong?" He asks as he takes his hands away.

"Nothing." You smile and reach up to pull him closer but he doesn't budge. Curse his super strength. He gives you a look and you sigh.

"It's nothing Logan, it's stupid and small."

"Sweetheart you gotta talk to me," Logan huffs. He's been working on this whole, communication thing and while he's not known for his empathy he can clearly see there's something bothering you.

"I just..." He looks at you again and you fall back into the pillows.

"Its these!" You say pointing to your chest.

"Huh?" "They're small and stupid and I hate them!" You lift your shirt up and huff in frustration. Logan's eyes widen as he stares at your bare chest. A stupid smile forming on his lips.

"I'm not seeing the problem." You put your shirt down and he pouts.

"I'm serious Logan. They're small and flat and...and..." You struggle to find the words as Logan just chuckles.

"So what?"

"It's not funny!" You snap and Logan's face morphs into concern.

"I just, I wish they were bigger is all. I mean sometimes I see other women and...It's hard sometimes." You curl into yourself, your arms covering your chest protectively. It felt silly to bring up right now but the thoughts wouldn't go away.

"Hey, look at me sweetheart." Logan coos. He lays next to you. Gently snaking his arm around your waist to pull you closer.

"Please?" Reluctantly you turn your body to face his.

"There's my pretty girl." He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

"Look I'm not the best at this but I can tell you one thing. You're fucking perfect." He leans in and kisses your neck gently. Your eyes flutter close as he gently rolls on top of you.

"You are beautiful, gorgeous, hot. I could go on and on sweetheart." His hand slips up your shirt and you let him slowly peel it off you. He grins as his lips move down to your chest. His thumb comes to play with one of your breasts while he latches onto the other.

"Logan..." You moan as he teases you like he loves to do.

"I know you hate them but I fucking love them. I could spend hours playing with them, looking at them, sucking on them if you let me." You bite your lip at his dirty words. The insecurities being pushed out Logan's hands.

"I don't care how big they are, what the look like. Because they're attached to my girl and I love my girl." Logan reaches down and rips your panties off of your body. You gasp in surprise as he takes your legs and spreads them.

"Feel how fucking hard you make me." He groans as he grinds his cock against your body.

"Get on your knees baby." You don't hesitate to listen. You get on your knees and face the headboard but Logan has other plans.

"No, I want you to watch your pretty tits as I fuck you." He growls in your ear as he moves you to face the mirror on the wall.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his gruff voice. Fuck he's hot. You're practically dripping onto the sheets already and Logan plans on taking full advantage of that. Slowly he slides his cock into your cunt, taking his sweet time as he stretches you out.

"So good, taking me raw." He says with a smirk. He wraps his hand around your neck to help support you as your legs shake at the feeling.

"I know baby, almost there just a little bit more." He praises.

You nod furiously, wanting to take all of him no matter what. When he fully bottoms out you let out a small cry. He shushes you softly, pressing kisses to your cheek as you get used to the stretch.

"Feel alright sweetheart?" Logan asks and you nod. Slowly he moves his hips, soaking up every whine that falls from your lips.

"Fuck, you're just made for me aren't you pretty girl." You can't take your eyes off of the mirror.

It's pure and utter filth. You're disheveled, tears pooling in your eyes, Logan's hand is still wrapped around your neck. You look fucking hot. You can see his muscles flexing with each devastating thrust. The look of pure desire on his face as he fucks you.

"Logan please I'm gonna come." Your hips start to move to meet his thrusts.

Logan growls as he grabs onto your hips and pushes you into the mattress. All you can do is watch yourself take it as he fucks the life out of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Logan breaks you apart. Your body feels fuzzy as your orgasm washes over you. Logan lets out a loud groan as his hips slam into you and stay there as he comes.

"Fuck...Look at you." Logan sits back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up. You hum as your head falls onto his chest. A tired smile on your face.

"So fucking perfect." Logan hums.

"Right sweetheart?" You mumble something unintelligible and Logan taps your face.

"I want to hear it." You shiver at the intensity of his voice.

"I'm perfect." Logan tilts your head up.

"All of you?" He asks.

"All of me." You repeat after him.

"Good," He kisses your temple.

You sigh as Logan starts to massage your shoulders. The insecurities have been washed away, only bliss left in its wake. Logan couldn't comprehend your dislike for your body, he saw you and only saw the best.

But if you needed a reminder every now and then, he would be happy to give it to you.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader

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dadvans · 17 hours ago

Text

without a base, without a trace

bucktommy (9-1-1) :: 5 medical emergencies buck has after breaking up with tommy + 1 he has when they get back together

slightly based on this post by @epiphainie. for @rcmclachlan. art by @wortwood. verging on crack fic. this is the dumbest thing i have ever written.

ONE.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

It’s a rare day that Josh is working the lines, not that he cares. It’s important to not get rusty in a job like this. And if he’s being a little too honest with himself, the rush he gets on certain calls make his shift fly by way quicker than when he’s supervising or working breaks.

“Josh?”

This is close to his thirtieth call of the day, so it takes him a second to place the familiar vocal fry on the other end of call.

“Buck?”

“Shit,” Buck says, “well, this is embarrassing. Uh, hey. Can you not tell my sister about this?”

“Your sister who is sitting across from me?” Josh glances up, catching Maddie’s attention. Her eyes double in size when he mouths Buck to her and gestures to his own headset.

“Yeah, please, I—Josh—“

“Hey, hey, of course, don’t worry, Buck, I’m still a professional.” He rolls his eyes as Maddie peers over her monitor, and he mouths again I’ll tell you later, before returning his attention to the line. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Buck sighs on the other end. “I have a Coke can stuck up my ass.”

Josh almost chokes. This wouldn’t even be the first call this week where someone “tripped and landed on something wrong,” but the mental image of one of those calls being Buck practically knocks the wind out of him.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that.”

“Coke can,” Buck repeats, and there’s something to be said that his bitchy tone could be genetic the way he sounds so much like Maddie on her last nerve, “stuck up my ass.”

“Oka-a-a-y,” Josh says slowly, logging rectal foreign body and Coke can appropriately. “Can I ask how this happened?”

“How do you think, Josh? My boyfriend broke up with me, I missed him, and Tommy was—he was big, you know?”

“Sure,” Josh replies, trying to keep his tone neutral as possible. “Have you ever heard the adage ‘without a base, without a trace?’ Without a flared base, nearly ten times out of ten you’re bound to—“

“Look, I know, okay? I’ve responded to plenty of these calls myself, I just thought I had a good grip and was feeling desperate, and with all the lube, it slipped, and—“

“You know what, I think I get the picture. Are you at your home address?”

He hears another sad sigh from Buck’s end of the line.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, I’m dispatching paramedics to your location, okay? And for future reference”—he lowers his voice—“there are plenty of places online, or The Pleasure Chest off of Santa Monica that can provide you with a more appropriate, uh, instrument to help you with your needs, got it?”

He hangs up shortly after, and Maddie immediately rounds their desks to sit on the lip of his. “So?”

“Let me just tell you that you don’t want to know,” Josh says, shaking his head. “But if you piss me off someday, I might tell you.”

TWO

It’s barely a week after Josh takes Buck’s call that another one comes in. Josh is the supervisor on shift when he hears Maddie’s tone go from a measured neutral to thin and tight in seconds.

“Buck?” She says. “Buck, are you okay?”

There’s no possible way, Josh thinks. But just in case, on a hunch, he pulls up a chair and connects himself to her line.

“Buck, this is Josh, I’m acting shift lead.”

Maddie gives him a weird look that he ignores, but Buck says, “Oh, thank God. Maddie, can you let Josh just take this?”

“Um, n-no, no. This doesn’t work like that. What’s going on, Evan?”

“Maddie,” Buck groans, “please?”

“Please, sir, I need you to state your emergency,” Maddie continues, voice settling. Her hands, which had been starting to shake, still on her keyboard.

“It’s an eggplant,” Buck says. “I have… an eggplant.”

“An eggplant?” Maddie repeats.

Josh chokes past a cough so he doesn’t laugh out loud. Real fucking amateur hour. “Buck, what did I tell you last week? Did you completely ignore my advice?”

Maddie turns to him, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Your brother has an eggplant lodged in his ass,” Josh replies, shaking his head. “Am I right, Buck?”

“Look, I did take your advice, or I thought I did. I thought if I started at the smaller side, the other end would act naturally as a flared base, but I got uh, carried away.”

Josh closes his eyes, listening, and counts to three. Maddie may have stopped breathing next to him. “And Buck, uh, what kind of eggplant was it? I’m assuming—“

“Italian,” Buck confirms, “the big kind.”

Damn. Josh is kind of impressed. Buck sure isn’t doing things by halves.

“This time it may require, uh,” Buck continues, “surgical assistance. It feels really deep.”

“Buck, I can’t assure you of anything, but you’d be surprised what the human body is capable of. Just stay calm, and we’re dispatching help to your area. Are you still at home?” Josh asks.

“Yeah,” Buck admits. Josh has had years of faceless conversations across a wide range of disasters, emergencies, human experiences. Someone else, even Maddie, would probably say he sounds embarrassed, but Josh knows sadness when he hears it.

He doesn’t call any attention to it, just nods. “Okay, thank you. Help is on the way.”

When the call disconnects, Maddie turns to him, face distressed. “What did he mean, ‘This time?’”

THREE

Josh is supervising a new trainee’s line when Buck’s third call comes in. It’s been maybe a week and a half, and the first to come so late, almost three in the morning. Josh has just come back from a break, having closed his eyes in the back for forty-five minutes, and is wondering if he’s still dreaming when Buck’s unmistakable voice cracks over the line. Unlike the first two calls, he slurs from the first word and Josh is pretty sure he’s been crying.

Josh rolls his eyes and unmutes his side of the line. “Hi, Buck.”

His trainee almost jumps a foot when he does it. He covers his mic with his palm and turns to her.

“Repeat callers, you’ll get used to them. This one is kind of my regular,” he assures her, hoping she doesn’t work with Maddie anytime soon.

Buck hiccups on the other end of the line and moans. “Josh, I did something stupid.”

“Wait, what was that? Buck, can you tell me what’s going on? Are you safe?”

“I dunno. Did something stupid. Dumb,” he repeats. “Wine bottle.”

Jesus Christ. “Wine bottle?”

“Wine bottle. With wine in it. Neck not big enough. Stuck. Wine is—izza—fillin’ me up but is, it’s, doesn’t feel right.” Half of his words are slurred together. It sounds like he’s saying Dozen-fee-ruh. He says, “Mucus membranes. I looked it up. Too much.”

“Got it, got it, you home, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck admits softly. “Alone.”

“I’m sending help to your location.” Josh takes over his trainee’s dashboards and dispatches a team accordingly.

“Not the one-eighteen though, right?” Buck asks. But with the way he sounds, it takes a second for Josh to decipher.

“No, not the one-eighteen,” he says, then sighs. “But Buck, I can’t guarantee that they won’t be dispatched to you next time. And if it’s me on the call, that’s who I’m definitely sending. I don’t expect you to remember me saying this, but if this happens again, you might force my hand if that’s what gets you to stop.”

“Okay, okay. Just miss him. Miss him so much. The way he filled me up—“

Josh abruptly ends the call. Which isn’t great. Help has already been sent out, but still.

“What just happened?” She asks.

“Something,” Josh says on an exhale, “totally normal in the broad scheme of things. But for my sake? Please pretend this call never did.”

FOUR.

Josh was supposed to be off tonight, but dispatch has been busy, busy, busy since a low five-point-something and several aftershocks slammed everything sideways from Puente Hills. Sue called him in hours ago, and the only thing that’s keeping him alert through the hours-long queue of anxious callers is the promise of that sweet, sweet, time and a half overtime pay.

He’s ready to lose it by the time the calls start to finally die down only to have Buck end up on his line.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he sighs. He pulls

Buck, on the other end, grumbles what sounds like There have to be more than five dispatchers in all of Los Angeles, right? away from the receiver, before he says closer and direct across the line, “I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean, ’stuck?’” Josh asks, fingers flying over the keyboard. He hasn’t heard of any infrastructure damage near Glendale, but maybe he’s making assumptions. “Are you trapped?”

“No, I’m—not exactly.”

“‘Not exactly,” Josh repeats. “Buck, where are you?”

“My apartment.” Buck doesn’t sound scared, or even urgently in danger. He sounds resigned. “I got a toy, by the way. Like you suggested. Flared base. Suction end, even, so I wouldn’t have any more accidents.”

Josh stopped believing in God a few decades ago, but he finds himself sending out a quiet prayer anyway that none of his calls with Buck have randomly hit the auditor’s desk. “Is that relevant to the call, sir?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t—shit. I was riding it when the earthquake hit.”

“Okay,” Josh says, when Buck doesn’t elaborate. “And?”

“I had it suctioned to my coffee table. And I’d been riding it for a while, so my legs were already shaky and I slipped—you know what, not important. What’s important is that I’ve been glued to my coffee table with a dick in my ass since noon. I can’t get up without the table—everything pulls, I can’t feel where the silicone ends and wood begins.”

“Jesus,” Josh says. Again, he really hopes this call doesn’t get audited.

There aren’t enough first responders to get to Buck right away. Josh lets him know that, in between asking a series of invasive questions where he learns that Buck is also somehow upside down, struggling to reach the poppers bottle he wants to swat out of the line of sight when someone inevitably rescues him.

“We’re experiencing a high volume of emergency calls at the moment, but I’ll get someone to you as soon as I can. But Buck,” Josh continues, “you have my number. Let me know when you’re okay. And then we can talk. Because I never, ever want to get one of these calls again.”

FIVE.

Josh watches as Maddie suspiciously sidles up to him in the locker bay several days later. She’s half-dancing, hips swaying and arms circling in a sad attempt at salsa.

“Do you have bedbugs? Did Howie give you bedbugs?” He asks her. “Because if you have bedbugs and you give them to the rest of us, I swear to God, Maddie.”

“No!” She says. Even when she doesn’t laugh out loud, she laughs with her eyes sometimes, wide and alive and catching all sorts of life. Had he been straight in another life, he would have been in so much trouble. “Okay, remember how we discussed Evan’s, uh, recent maladaptive coping strategies?”

“If by ‘discussed’ you mean ‘completely evaded the subject,’ and I gave him the number of a man whose penis defies God—“

“Yes, yes, anyway. They’re on a date!” She whips out her phone to show Josh the text message confirmation from Buck that not only had he’d reached out to Josh’s friend a few days ago, but was also now on his way to a dinner and movie. “Look!”

Josh’s eyes close with relief. “Oh, thank God. I can finally rest easy for a shift and not worry your brother is going to end up on my line with something stuck up his ass.”

Maddie’s smile fades and her shoulders slump. “Tell me about it. I’d do anything to go back to a time where he was just baking too much and I didn’t have to worry about where all the candles in his apartment went.”

“Stop.” He closes his eyes and throws his head back. “End of conversation. Even if I’m happy you told me, so I won’t have to spend the next twelve hours worried your brother is going to finally puncture his colon and die. Because the past few weeks have been so much.”

“Well, maybe your Prince Charming is the one who will finally break the curse,” Maddie replies, squeezing his shoulder.

Josh really hopes so. He needs Big Dick Eric (the guy’s Christian name, according to how Josh had saved him in his phone after a slightly overwhelming Grindr hookup) to seal the deal with Buck tonight. It doesn’t have to be forever, just as long as it takes for Buck to stop trying to fill the hole in his heart with dick. For Josh’s own mental health.

He wants to be optimistic.

The first two hours of his shift are as normal as normal can be for a seven-to-seven night shift. He handles an ugly domestic call, several drunk teenagers, a broken skate park ankle, and multiple people reporting the same car alarm going off at their apartment complex. His heart rate picks up when a new homeowner calls to report a squatter in her attic, but it just turns out to be a bat infestation.

And then, as if even thinking the word “quiet” is a thought crime that welcomes chaos, Josh takes his next call and is greeted with screaming.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” He asks, voice slightly elevated to challenge the screams warping the call.

He’ll give Buck credit later: when the emergency isn’t necessarily specific to his own bad decisions, the guy is effectively, professionally cool in a crisis, to a degree that Josh doesn’t immediately recognize him.

He requests an ambulance immediately to a residential address for a single adult man who he believes has fractured his penis.

“Can you tell me what happened that has lead you to believe this man has fractured his penis?” Josh asks, trying to discourage his own balls from shrinking back up inside him.

“We were, uh, in flagrante,” the guy on the other end responds, and that’s when Josh knows it’s Buck, because the pitchy, worried waver in his voice haunts Josh’s dreams. “We were—well—there was a popping noise while he was still inside me, and everything got hot and wet different from lube, you know, and I looked down and there was blood everywhere. And then he started screaming.”

Yeah, that sounds pretty fractured. Poor Big Dick Eric.

“Oh-kay, sir,” Josh replies, “Well, I am dispatching help to you right now. While you wait, you should try to treat the afflicted area with ice—“

“—Already on it,” Buck replies, harried, and Josh can hear him roughly digging ice out of a freezer, he thinks.

“Great. Help will be there soon, Buck,” Josh confirms, and then the shoveling sound stops briefly.

“Josh?”

“Yup,” Josh replies.

“Of course, God—hey, please don’t tell Maddie about this one, please? I’ve already traumatized her so much.”

Josh sighs, and professionalism be damned, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Buck, I won’t tell Maddie, but I’m absolutely telling all of Gay Los Angeles to steer clear from you until whatever sex curse you’re dealing with is fixed”

Buck hums sadly. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Josh listens to him return to Big Dick Eric’s side, equal parts miserable and beguiled at the soft, direct way Buck offers a baggie of ice to a wailing Big Dick Eric. He finds himself feeling bad, though he’s not sure who for. All parties involved, maybe. Himself especially.

Despite all his years as a dispatcher, he still ends the call with a migraine.

PLUS ONE

“I think,” Maddie had said between several sips of decaf, halfway through their shift, tone light and bubbly, “that they might get back together. They’ve been talking.”

“‘Talking,’ huh?” Josh had replied, shutting his locker. “God, I hope so. Spare the rest of Los Angeles from whatever in the Grey’s Anatomy that’s become your brother’s life.

The look Maddie had given him, six months pregnant, patience thin, emotionally volatile and absolutely not amused, shut him up immediately.

That was hours ago. Seventeen calls ago. Their shift ends as the sun starts rising outside their windowless floor. Josh shrugs his jacket on thinking about the Egg McMuffin he’s going to get before he returns home and passes out in a sodium coma for approximately seven hours. Maybe he’ll dig through the graveyard of Trader Joe’s meals in his freezer to get the frozen bottle of Absolut that sits in back and make himself a Screwdriver to wash it down with.

“Plans for the rest of your day?” He turns to Maddie, only to find her distracted and scrolling through her phone.

“Sorry, I—I have like, several texts and five voicemails from Evan and I’m trying to read the transcripts first,” she says, brow knitting together with worrying familiarity. “Let’s see, it sounds like—oh. Oh. Oh wow.”

Josh commendably does not scream. “What now?”

She turns the phone to him, expanding the first message.

Hi Maddie, it’s Tommy. We’re—me and Evan—are headed to the ER. Nothing huge, just thought you should know, he said you had plans tomorrow. He kind of got carried away tonight, and, you know what? Doesn’t matter. Not a big deal. He’s having a little trouble speaking right now, but wanted me to call you so you don’t worry.

“What,” Josh says.

She thumbs open the transcript for the next voicemail.

Hey, Maddie. Tommy again. Buck’s voice is still out of commission. He, uh. It sounds like he ruptured his airway. He’s being given the good drugs, but will not be able to meet you tomorrow, and is definitely going to be on a text-only basis for at least a week. At the very least it isn’t bad enough for him to need surgery, so we’re getting discharged soon. I’ve got him for now, and I’ll keep an eye on him for the next couple of days while we’re off. Feel free to give me a call or swing by if you have any questions.

“Did he really—?”

“Yup, yes he did,” Maddie says, swiping over to her texts to open up a selfie from Buck, looking smug and high as a kite while reclining in a hospital bed.

“Jesus, how big is Tommy,” Josh says, before he can stop himself.

“At a certain point it just has to be uncomfortable for everyone involved, right?” Maddie frowns down at the picture of Buck grinning back up at her from her phone.

Josh sighs. “They really found love in a hopeless place. I think this is one of those situations where two people belong together, if only for the public safety of everyone else.”

“I just hope it sticks this time.”

“If it doesn’t, I might just have to quit my job,” Josh says. “Anyway, tell them congratulations for me. I’m going to go drink celebratory screwdrivers until I pass out.”

Maddie’s nose wrinkles and she turns her pout on him, one hand moving to her stomach. “You’re a cruel man, Josh Russo.”

His looks down at the phone she still holds with the other pointedly. “I think you and I both know I could be much, much worse.”

#bucktommy #911 abc #delaney writes

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nickelcream · 2 days ago

Text

People are trying to call this a Roman Salute. Now, the people generally trying to refute the authenticity of that by saying the Roman Salute isn't actually Roman are wrong, but let me explain why that doesn't matter:

The Roman Salute was a historical greeting that was misconceived to have to do with the republic and imperial lifestyle. America used it for it's Pledge of Allegiance initially (it was changed, gee I wonder why). And then Fascist Italy adopted it. And then Nazi Germany adopted it.

That is to say, calling it the Roman Salute does not refute the claim that it is a Nazi Salute, but rather confirming that they are in fact "Sieging that motherfucking Heil"... as they're the same gesture. All you're doing is claiming that, as opposed to supporting Fascists and being one himself (factually incorrect, he's literally intentionally trying to get in good graces with a Far Right Fascist party in Germany, appropriately labeled as extremist by the German government [I wonder what they view as extremist... oh wait, they're own fkn history books, they can recognize it better than anyone ffs]), he's doing it out of passion for... the Roman Empire?

He does not ever talk about Rome. He's clearly not very passionate about it. Especially for someone who supposedly has autism. I have autism, and basically anyone who has it tell you: we love talking about our passions. So when he talks not about Romans, but instead of "liberating Britain from its tyranny", and how "DEI is bad", and how that aforementioned Far Right Extremist party in Germany will "save Germany"

Know in your heart that, regardless of whether or not he has autism or whatever:

HIS PASSION IS FASCISM. NOT ROMANS. NOT "oh he just don't know better" (autism: they always know better until it's suddenly convenient for you that they don't; Schrodinger's awareness.) HE IS FASCIST. HE IS OLIGARCHICAL. HE IS A NAZI. AND HE IS NO LONGER HIDING IT. HE IS OPENLY DEMONSTRATING IT AND YOU ARE LETTING HIM GET AWAY WITH IT.

How exactly is all this lowering the price of groceries, the reason why seemingly 70% of Trump's voters chose him? How are any of the executive orders, most of which are not enforceable, and others need proper legislation to apply to The People™, helping us "common folk"?

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

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ckret2 · 3 days ago

Text

Bill's getting a makeover from Pacifica!! Yaaay

And what good will it do him?

Here's chapter 83 of human Bill Cipher being more of a prisoner in his body than in the Mystery Shack by this point: the shack's decided that the only possible thing that can save them from certain doom is getting Bill to flirt with a government agent, and Pacifica's recruited to help.

She does NOT know who her customer is.

####

"Folks, I'm not exaggerating when I say that out of all my duties as mayor, there's no greater honor than getting to host the county's annual Best Baby Ever Pageant and meeting all your beautiful and talented children. When I look in each young shape's bright little eye, and know that in this room are this county's future priests, police officers, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, maybe even the mayor of tomorrow... It gives me hope for the future." The mayor lowered his voice conspiratorially, "And it doesn't hurt that I get to declare it a city holiday and lock town hall's door for the day, either."

The parents in the audience chuckled appreciatively. Their children, who would have had the day off anyway and frankly found this a whole lot more work, mostly didn't.

"But all good things must come to an end, and we've reached the end of this year's competition." The mayor gestured to the contestants behind him, lined up in front of a temporary backdrop with a cheapy, shiny curtain. Most of the contestants were being held by a parent, but a few were old enough to fidget in front of the crowd all alone. "We've awarded all the individual prizes for each age bracket—which have gone to kids with any number of sides, with ages ranging everywhere from five years old to five hours old—and now all we have left is this year's grand prize!"

An enormous trophy waited to the mayor's side. It was plastic and hollow, but it was painted gold and taller than most of the children.

The mayor said, "And the winner of this year's Best Baby Ever award is... " Someone at the back of the hall played a pre-recorded drumroll through a tinny speaker. "The overall winner from the Age 0-6 Months category—Billy Cipher!"

Scalene let out a squeal of excitement that was audible over the applause. Bill startled awake in her arm and blinked sleepily around the room.

Several of the other parents on stage surreptitiously shot Scalene dirty looks—of course her kid had won, who could deny a newborn a prize on his birthday? It would be adorable. The judges had probably leaped at the opportunity.

Scalene shifted Bill in front of herself so the audience could see him better and so she could flash a hidden razor-sharp grin to a couple of her defeated rivals. That was exactly why she'd brought him today.

"Congratulations," the mayor said, placing a very tiny crown atop Bill. Bill endured this with patient, sleepy befuddlement. "Billy will be going home with the grand prize trophy and cash prize—as well as a full set of cutlery from our sponser, Knifeco Knives! But of course we'll hand that to mama to handle," he chuckled. "And the top winners from the other brackets will receive four-piece cutlery gift sets from Knifeco, which include—"

Scalene snatched the microphone from the mayor, jabbed him aside with one corner, and gushed to the crowd, "Thank you so much! I'm sure I'm speaking for my little Billy when I say just how grateful and honored he'll be when he's old enough to understand what a gift you've given him." She beamed out at the crowd, her flashy candy apple red makeup (she'd hastily slathered herself in side liner on her way to the pageant) drowning out every other shape on the stage—except for the naturally neon yellow infant in her arm. "As some of the pageant regulars—"

The mayor said, "Scalene, we didn't actually schedule time for the winners to make speeches—"

She sweetly whispered, "No one wants to hear about the sponsor, Otto," and pushed him aside. "As some of the pageant regulars here already know—I see you out there, hello!—I'm a pageant queen myself—(Miss Teen Curvy Strait three separate years!)—so, as a new mother, I'm so pleased that my little golden child is following in the family footsteps. I..."

The spotlights were blazing hot. She didn't understand how Bill—now wide awake again—could stare straight into the piercing lights without even blinking. Maybe he was blind; it would figure, considering what the afterbirth looked like.

Her knees were weak. Her sides screamed in pain. She shifted her grip to hold Bill more securely and to try to coax the sharpest spot of pain on that side to migrate to a fresh spot, shook off a wave of dizziness, and went on, "I hope that this is just the first of many future crowns for me—myyy sweet little Billy, ahem. I can promise you'll be seeing a lot of him in... in the..."

With a thud, she passed out and collapsed against the theater backdrop.

A nearby child squeaked in alarm.

"Scalene?!" Euclid was at the back of the audience, having snuck in during the closing ceremonies and hovered near the door where he could at least hear as the winners were announced. Now, as the mayor and several other pageant parents rushed to Scalene's side, he shoved his way through the crowd. "Move, that's my wife! Dang it, I told you to use your cane!"

One of the other mothers pulled out a copy of the program and fanned Scalene's eye. The mayor scooped up Bill and checked him for injuries. "Are you alright, little tri?"

Still too small to move himself, his eye darted in a panic to his mother's face, to the bright bright spotlights, to his mother again, to the blurry blue of his father buried deep in a sea of other shapes, to the mayor and the many strange faces crowded around him—and then he swallowed back his oversized eye to open his mouth and wail.

Which was the exact moment the stage curtain caught fire.

####

A bearded man with his hair done up in black liberty spikes and a spider web tattoo climbing up his left arm watched as Pacifica dumped several shopping bags of makeup onto her desk. "This visitor must be really important. You never pass up doing these guys' weekly grooming." He was sitting on the barn floor, brushing an alpaca with long, silky white hair.

"You have no idea." Pacifica stuffed the shopping bags in the wastebasket surreptitiously hidden under her far-too-big U-shaped executive desk, and quickly sorted the beauty supplies into their proper order of operations.

"Didn't you say it's Mabel and one of her friends? Mabel's here all the time."

"It's not just any friend, Spiderwebs!" Pacifica pulled a locket out of a desk drawer, ran over to Spiderwebs, and popped it open. "It's this friend! I've never met him before, all I know is that he has the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen. I have got to make a good first impression."

Spiderwebs and the alpaca inspected the locket's contents. He said, "You've never met him and you've got some of his hair in a locket?"

Pacifica flushed. "Th— Shut up!" She snapped the locket shut and stuffed it in a pocket. "I had the locket just lying around anyway, it's whatever."

At the sound of voices outside, Pacifica gasped. "They're here! Do I look okay?!"

Spiderwebs—whose entire outfit cost less than Pacifica's left sock and who quite frankly found the amount of makeup Pacifica wore concerning for a child her age—said, "Sure, fine."

"Great!" Pacifica bounced on the balls of her feet, squealed in excitement, and ran outside to greet Mabel and her friend. "Heyyy there! I'm Pacifica Northwest, it's so nice to meet—" She froze, "you..."

Before her stood a person with the most beautiful golden hair she'd ever seen.

Which was attached to a lady in a t-shirt, an eyepatch, a bedsheet, and cheap novelty slippers that look like fish.

On top of that, the lady was mildly sunburned (obviously no moisturizer), wasn't wearing a bra, was leaning on an umbrella like a cane, clearly hadn't shaved in a while, had a very obvious fake tooth, had a weird bulgy eye, sort of smelled like fish (please don't let it be the slippers), and, to cap it all off, was fat.

Pacifica was working on herself. She was trying to unlearn the lessons about beauty she'd learned from her mom, and from the child pageant circuit, and from all her judgy friends, and from the modeling industry. She was slowly getting comfortable with the idea that physical beauty wasn't everything.

However. So far, that meant she'd been working on accepting ideas like it's okay if sometimes I'm an 8/10 instead of a 10/10. She had not yet tackled the far more daunting proposition of internalizing concepts like it's okay if sometimes other people are ugly.

Which was a problem, if she was going to give this person a makeover.

She swallowed hard and rearranged her expectations for the afternoon.

"Hey Pacifica!" Mabel beamed at her. "Thanks sooo much helping! This is Goldie, he's your customer. Goldie, this is Pacifica." Mabel gasped. "Giorgio, you're lookin' so fiiiine!" She ran into the barn to greet the alpaca Spiderwebs was grooming.

Leaving Pacifica outside with a stranger with a very creepy smile. Pacifica said, "Ummm..."

"The feeling's mutual, haha." On top of everything else, Goldie had a weird, nasally voice.

He, Mabel had said. "Hey, um," said Pacifica, who had never actually been in this position before and wasn't quite sure the polite way to handle it, "not to be rude, but... are you a guy, orrr...?"

"I'm whatever makes this conversation easiest. Don't overthink it!" He swept around Pacifica, hands clasped behind his back and around his umbrella, and sauntered into the barn. Which was kind of impressive, because fish-shaped slippers didn't seem designed for sauntering.

"So... guy?" Pacifica tried.

"For you? Sure," Goldie said indulgently. "Our target's expecting a lady, though, so—" Without turning toward Pacifica, he gestured up-and-down at his body. "Expect to femme this thing up."

Pacifica bit her lips as she swallowed down the most profound disappointment of her life so far, readjusted her expectations for the evening, and figured out what to say. She may not have unlearned the instinct to be shallowly judgmental, but she'd at least made progress on learning to keep it in her head. Most of it. Some—some of it. She'd keep some of it to herself. "Oh-kay. I don't know what Mabel told you, but—just so you know, I'm not running some charity barbershop for the homeless, all right? I'm a professional. I take looks seriously. I'm not going to soften the truth just because you're Mabel's friend, so—if you're not okay with that, you should just go home now."

He turned to glance at her, his trajectory curving to the side as he did; and suddenly she felt like a very small fish being circled by a hungry stingray. "Wow! You and Mabel both had to warn me! At this point, I'll be disappointed if you're polite." Goldie laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't expecting a barbershop." He used his umbrella to gesture around at the barn, "A barbershop would smell less like farm animals." He flipped up his eyepatch (he had a whole second eye under there?) so he could shoot Pacifica a sly sideways glance. "Maybe personality can make up for looks. Right?"

Pacifica's face flushed red. Personality can make up for looks was what Pacifica's mom said other moms told their ugly daughters when they entered pageants they had no shot of winning. "Hey, how dare you! Maybe this barn is an ugly salon—but it's a beautiful ranch!" She huffed, "Anyway, I didn't have a choice! I couldn't bring you home in front of my parents. You're better suited to the barn."

She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth—that was the kind of thing she was trying not to say to people as often—but Goldie's grin only widened. "Just do what you can with this flesh scarecrow I'm wearing, Alpaca. I know what beauty standards around here are like, I know what I look like, and I'm more apathetic about this body than you could possibly imagine. You won't hurt my feelings!" He flipped his eyepatch back down and glanced away from her, eye roving around the barn ceiling like a searchlight trying to find a stray bat. "Nobody goes to a coach because they're expecting to be told 'you're beautiful just the way you are'!"

A coach—like a pageant coach? He was making an awful lot of allusions to the pageant world. Just to make fun of her, or...? "You're lucky I'm not a coach. You couldn't afford my rates."

Goldie laughed. "You'd overcharge!" And then he ignored her, turning his attention to her one full-time employee. "Hey, Spiderwebs! So this is where you ended up! Workin' hard or hardly workin'?"

Spiderwebs looked up from the aplaca he was tending to to frown at Goldie. "Do I know you?"

"Know me? You picked a fight with me once!"

"Oh. Who won?"

"By the time I was finished with you, you were stone-cold unconscious!"

"That's probably why I don't remember it."

While Goldie was distracted talking to Spiderwebs, Pacifica knelt by Mabel—who was crouched to wrap her arms around Giorgio's neck and nuzzle him—and muttered, "Your friend's a major creep."

"What did he do," Mabel asked.

Pacifica thought. What did he do? Say he wouldn't be offended by brutal honesty? Tell her her barn smelled like a barn? "Nothing, it's just—the way he did it."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "We're working on his people skills." At least she didn't think Pacifica was crazy.

"Hey, does Goldie have any, like... beauty industry experience, that you know of?"

"His mom was a model," Mabel said. "And he did some stuff with beauty pageants?"

"Yeah? What kind of stuff?"

"Ummm..." Mabel grimaced uncertainly. "Tech... stuff...?" Okay, she clearly didn't have a clue. But that was what she'd wanted to know: yes, he was familiar with the pageant scene. She readjusted her expectations for the afternoon for the second time in as many minutes.

Apparently finished with Spiderwebs, Goldie called, "Anyway, I'm not trying to win ay supreme crowns!" Make that familiar with the pageant scene and wanted to make sure Pacifica knew that. "Just seduce some government agent who already thinks this is hot. You're lucky, we have an easy target!"

Mabel said, "This guy!" She unwrapped one arm from around Giorgio's neck to hold her phone out.

Pacifica took it. It was displaying a distinguished-looking middle-aged gentleman with a no-nonsense frown in a classy black suit. Her eyebrows went up. Ooh. The suit was kind of cheap, but it was well-tailored, which made a world of difference. Looked like he took care of himself, too. Definitely worked out. Too bad about the hair, but hey, Pacifica happened to know a great product that could help with that.

She put a hand on Mabel's arm. "I will help Goldie win his heart."

####

Bill hardly glanced around as Pacifica led them into her office; he was familiar with the space. By daylight, it looked less "rustic" and more "cutesy overpriced modern farmhouse."

"I've got everything set up in my office," Pacifica said, coming in with Mabel behind her. There was indeed a wide variety of makeup supplies spread out on her desk. "But the makeup has to wait, we've got to start with your hair."

Bill fought back a cringe. "Don't want to save the best for last?"

"Always do your hair first," Pacifica said firmly. She ducked through a door into a bathroom connected to her office. "That's your first fashion lesson. You can't wash your hair with a face full of makeup. And trying to use a blow dryer or hair iron around your makeup makes you look like a melting wax figure."

"I've seen those in person," Mabel said. "Pacifica's right, that's not a cute look. Especially when the eyeballs start rolling out! Apparently, wax figures' eyeballs are made out of glass?"

Bill made a beeline for the corner where he knew Pacifica kept a folding chair and asked, "Hey, what happened to all those eyes, anyway?" Mabel always needed new arts and crafts supplies, and he bet those would be great for jewelry.

"We stuck them in a big jar." Mabel was lurking in the bathroom door, watching Pacifica. "They're still cursed, though. They turn to look at you when you walk by."

"Even better."

"I can see why the Pines family likes you," Pacifica grumbled.

Bill could think of three Pines who would heartily disagree with that claim. "Oh, please! They can only wish they were half as weird as me." He set up the folding chair in the open space in front of Pacifica's desk—then froze. Huh.

Bill knew lots of things. He had trillions of eyes. He was used to walking into rooms and just knowing what was in them.

Except this room hadn't existed when he'd had all his eyes. It had been built after his death. So why did he already know what it looked like? How had he known where to find a folding chair?

He shut his eyes, trying to work through the déjà vu to picture what angle he'd seen the room at before, and where his eye must have been in order for him to see it; and then he looked at the wall beside the desk. There were several flat glass cases against the wall with alpaca wool goods sealed inside—a scarf, a sweater... He stared at his own face in the middle of a tapestry of his zodiac, preserved like a hunting trophy in a case labeled "First Blanket." Huh. It wasn't some local hick's den after all. Just a local rich girl roleplaying at being a hick.

He studied his true face for a long moment—and then cast a resentful look at the desk covered in makeup, in shades of beige and red. What would any of this sludge do for him? He'd be just as ugly at the end of it.

But Bill wasn't getting a makeover to look beautiful. He was getting it to seduce a human. And those were two diametrically opposed goals.

He missed his face so much.

"It's not illegal," Pacifica said.

Bill gave her a baffled look. "What?"

She pointed at the blanket, "It's not illegal to display a picture of the triangle guy as long as it's got that ring of symbols around it. It, like, repels him or something."

"Oh, does it," Bill said dryly. "It takes the evil eye to avert the evil eye, huh? Hey, maybe I should get one of these! Whaddaya think, Mabel?"

"I already told you I'm not making another!"

"But how am I gonna repel the triangle guy?" he asked, grinning impishly. "What if I'm in danger! The triangle guy could get me! Wouldn't that be terrible?"

"Knock it off! You already stole Soos's."

He expected Pacifica to come back from the bathroom with a brush or something; instead, she held up a spray bottle and said, "Okay, come in—and bring the chair." Bill's heart sank. "We're gonna have to rinse your hair in my sink, sorry."

Bill suppressed a sigh. "It's not the worst thing I've ever done to this hair!" He picked up the chair to carry into the next room.

"All I can do for now is rinse your hair. I don't have any shampoo for your hair texture because I did not think the situation was going to be this dire. No offense," Pacifica said. "You'll have to shampoo at home. You got the hair product samples I sent to the Mystery Shack, right? Were you able to order the full products? I don't know what your budget looks like."

"Don't worry about it, I still have the leftovers from the samples."

He watched in glee as Pacifica died a little on the inside. "Th— Those were one use sample sizes. It's been a month, how do you still have leftovers."

In truth, Pacifica severely overestimated the amount of hair product needed to keep hair clean; but on the other hand Bill was deliberately showering as little as he thought he could get away with and making up the difference in the downstairs half bath sink, so he didn't think smugly flaunting that he technically knew more about minimum human hygiene requirements than she did would make him look as cool and knowledgable as he wanted it to. "Don't worry about it!"

Bill cast one last longing look toward his true face; and then he followed the humans into the restroom to let them reorganize his stupid human hair.

####

"This is just a temporary measure," Pacifica warned as she dunked a few more of Goldie's curls in the sink. "You have got to take a real shower before your date. You literally smell like fish."

"What kind of fish?" Goldie immediately asked. "Is it salmon? If it's salmon I can work with that."

Sitting on the closed toilet lid, Mabel let out a long-suffering sigh; and Pacifica got the horrifying impression that this was an ongoing conversation.

"It... I don't... know what kind of fish."

Mabel said, "It's probably just the trout guts from yesterday." What the heck was life like in poor people's homes?

In Pacifica's opinion, Goldie's hair was both his biggest asset and his worst disaster area. It was that beautiful, natural, curly gold, like something out of a fairy tale; but it was nightmarishly tangled and there was literal sand in it, and he'd clearly used conditioner at some point in the last few days but he hadn't fully washed it out and it just made more sand stick.

Goldie was sitting in the folding chair with one arm rested on the lip of the sink and his cheek resting on his arm. Pacifica had to alternate between soaking his hair under the faucet and trying to gently untangle it, inch by inch, with a comb. To his credit, he patiently endured it without making a word of complaint, even though both the positioning and the manhandling had to be uncomfortable.

But he'd turned his face away from Pacifica and Mabel as much as he could from his awkward position; and whenever Pacifica moved to an angle that let her glimpse a bit of his face, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was pressed thin in a grimace. The hand resting on the sink's lip had clenched into a fist, and his other hand was digging its (badly painted) fingernails into his thigh through his bedsheet skirt.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"I'll give it three out of five stars," Goldie said, "but if you want a lower score, I can try to find a worse angle for my neck!" He kept as much tension out of his voice as he could; but now that Pacifica had noticed it, she could tell his voice was a bit flattened.

"Never mind," she said. "No offense, but—when's the last time you combed this?" She'd been saying no offense a lot.

Mabel asked, "Have you done it since I brushed your hair at the sleepover?" He had Mabel doing his hair?

Goldie made a noncommittal noise. "I've washed it since then."

"That's not the same," Mabel said.

"You've washed it?" Pacifica asked skeptically. "Because you look like you've been sleeping in mud." She'd found a few flecks deep in his thick curls.

"Okay, in my defense," Goldie said, "it was just garden-variety heavy metal-enriched local dirt when I went to sleep. It only turned into mud while I was unconscious."

Pacifica stopped combing and leaned over to stare at Goldie, speechless.

With an air of affronted dignity, he said, "It wasn't my idea. I wanted to be indoors."

"Goldie's been having a really bad week," Mabel said.

"I've been having a really bad month," Goldie said.

Mabel asked, "Haven't you had a shower since you got home, though?"

There was a pause. Goldie muttered, "Yeah, but—it's hard to get through all that hair." (The worst part was, Pacifica thought he was telling the truth. The fact that she'd found mud so deep meant he must have washed the majority off the outer layers of his hair.) "I—I've been—tired, okay?"

He had that air of impatient irritation that suggested he was embarrassed, but trying to hide it because he was embarrassed of being embarrassed. Strange from Mr. Apathetic About His Body to be self-conscious. Why? Did he not know how to take care of his hair? (Maybe if he'd properly used the samples she'd sent him...)

But Pacifica thought back to Mabel showing her a lock of his hair at the beginning of summer—and the liquified roots, melted off. That wasn't an accident. Whatever depilatory cream he'd used had to sit there on the roots, it wasn't like he'd just grabbed the wrong product by accident. There was something more than ignorance going on here. Self-sabotage? But if it was intentional, why would he be embarrassed?

She could call him out, interrogate him for it—hey, she was supposed to be his style consultant, she needed to know what was going on��but if he was already getting defensive, he'd just clam up if he thought he was really under attack. Her mom got the same way when she was getting cagey about something and Pacifica was trying to figure out why. So she switched her focus. "Mabel—did you say you brushed his hair?"

"Yeah?"

"You meant 'combed his hair,' right?"

"No, I brushed it," Mabel said.

Pacifica stared at her. "Why."

Mabel stared back. "Because... combs are for short guy hair and for parting your hair? And Goldie doesn't have a part?"

Pacifica looked down at the big ball of frizzy curls that made up the bottom half of Mabel's hair and suddenly understood so much. "Oh, hon." What were her parents like. What did their hair look like. "You're supposed to comb natural curls. And only when they're wet, if you can help it."

"What. Why."

"It keeps the curls together," Goldie said, "instead of separating them all into separate strands."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Wait, that's the secret?! I thought that's what expensive shampoos are for!"

"The expensive shampoos make it worse," he cheerfully informed her. He'd brushed Pacifica off and sat up, chin in hand and hair dripping over his shoulders, so he could talk to Mabel. "It strips off the grease your pores naturally excrete to lube up your hair and replaces it with manmade grease! Which is why your hair dries out when you stop using the fancy shampoo. It's a big scam!"

Mabel stared at him in shock; then asked, hesitantly, "My strawberry shampoo?"

"A dirty traitor," Goldie said. "It's one of those toxic friends that manipulates you into depending on them and then tells you you're nothing without their help! There's half a dozen chemicals you wanna avoid in shampoo—I don't remember all their names but I can draw their chemical structures, Sixer can translate 'em into English for you."

"What else am I doing wrong?"

"You shampoo your hair too often," Goldie said. "And blow dry it. Which is fine if you want to keep that dry frizz! But somehow I don't think you do!"

Okay—so he clearly did understand curly hair care. (Or at least, he understood it as much as Pacifica, whose knowledge came entirely from reading magazine articles that technically weren't aimed at her.) Then why didn't he do it?

Mabel dragged her hands down her face. "So all this time, I've been messing up your hair too? Goldiiie, why didn't you say anything!"

"I didn't really care!"

Pacifica said, "Okay no, I am not standing for this. Goldie, out. Mabel, sink. It's some kind of crime for me to know more about curly hair than you do. I'm showing you how to do this the right way."

Goldie sighed in relief and escaped as Pacifica subjected Mabel's hair to the faucet and comb.

####

(Here's this week's What Was Edited Due To TBOB summary: the pageant scene itself was already planned, but obviously, all the details—it's the day he was born, the mayor's there handing out knives and declaring it a holiday—came from the info we get on Bill's history via TBOB. Finding a way to make the knives make sense was fun. Nothing major in the rest of the chapter was changed.

Hope you enjoyed! Next week is more Pacifica!)

#(I'm forbidding myself from drawing backgrounds in chapter art until March)#(If i draw a background put a skunk in my inbox)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the art & chapter)#pacifica northwest #mabel pines #(for the chapter even tho they aren't in the art. this is pacifica's chapter!!)#scalene cipher #(<- yknow what?? she gets a big scene too. might as well tag her.)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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yourtypicalhuman09 · 2 days ago

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Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

#x reader #yandere batfam #batfam #neglected reader #yandere batboys #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere platonic #barbara gordon #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #tim drake

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tsuutarr · 3 days ago

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(Yandere Otome Isekai Harem [commoner MLs] x Reader)

"Thrust into an unfamiliar world, you have to navigate your role as the Heir to the Arrington Estate. Luckily for you, you have allies that are eager to help you. Maybe a little too eager, in fact."

The Arrington Estate [Chapter 1]

When you wake up, the first thing you want to do is throw up. You feel so deathly ill that you’re on the cusp of feeling like you’re not alive at all. But you’re in so much pain that you know you have to be alive – there’s no other way your nerves would be filled with what feels like molten lava.

“Breathe.” A voice, gentle and low, soothes from beside you. A warm hand settles itself on your back and you’re not even sure how you managed to register it, but you do. “Drink.”

You’re not fully conscious of how the liquid pours down your throat, but you soon find your eyes fluttering shut. Your nerves settle down as you’re lulled into a peaceful rest.

Time is foreign to you when you wake up. Your body still feels heavy, but it doesn’t hurt like it did prior. Processing things is difficult, your mind being bogged down with thoughts that have no end. All you can do is stare at the ceiling made of ornate golden patterns. Gorgeous, but…

It isn’t familiar to you.

Panic should be shooting through your spine, but there’s a feeling of… emptiness that seems to sink into your heart, making the situation seem dull rather than frightening.

“Are you awake?”

You didn’t even realize that there is someone beside you – beside the bed you’re in. Slowly, you turn your head to see a man sitting poised and proper on a wooden chair. His long chestnut colored hair is tied in a neat ponytail, a pleasant smile on his face. But what really draws your attention are his eyes – golden, almost.

“It appears that your complexion has returned. That is a relief,” he says, but you can’t really discern the emotion on his face.

“Who are you?” The words come out of your mouth before you’ve even processed them inside your brain.

There’s something eerie about the way his expression shifts – it doesn’t shift too noticeably, but there’s a hint of pensiveness that makes you nervous.

“My, I suppose your illness has rendered your memory quite poor. That is unfortunate,” he murmurs, but you’re not entirely sure if he means it or not. It’s a weird contrast – he speaks so kindly, so gently, that he seems so harmless. But he is a stranger to you. You don’t know him – if you can trust him.

Perhaps he notices the wariness on your face, but he relaxes his body somewhat, offering you a friendlier smile as he introduces himself, “My name is Geoffry Cullen. I am your butler.”

“B… Butler? Mine?” you ask, your brain fog slowly receding. Everything about this situation is so foreign to you, from the ornate ceiling to the luxurious bed you’re on to the man who claims he serves you.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t the life you remember.

“Yes, yours.”

“Who am I, then?” you ask, trying to piece together something – anything that can give you a hint.

“Why, you’re the heir to the Arrington Estate,” he states as if it is the most obvious fact in the world. And perhaps it is the most obvious fact to everyone but you.

You can’t help but doubt the validity of this “fact” that’s been told to you because, while you don’t remember much, you do remember something:

You are, in fact, not the heir to the Arrington Estate.

Perhaps your expression gives away your entire dilemma, because Geoffrey offers you a sympathetic smile. It’s the kindest he’s looked so far.

“You must be hungry. Let me bring you your meal.” He stands up gracefully, adjusting his suit jacket as he does so. “In the meantime, please get some more rest.”

He bows, before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’re still utterly lost and confused, the uncertainty of your own situation making you nervous.

Despite your legs still feeling wobbly, you force yourself to rise. Stumbling, you make your way to the mirror. It’s probably the fanciest mirror you’ve ever seen – it almost looks like a jewelry box. It’s so fancy that you’re undoubtedly certain that you aren’t home. There’s no way you could ever afford a mirror of this quality.

What’s odd, though, is that you actually see yourself in the reflection. A part of you wondered if you’d possess another body or something of that sort, but… you look identical to how you remember looking. But you shouldn’t look like yourself, right? After all, the butler – Geoffrey – had claimed that you are the heir to the Arrington Estate, which you aren’t.

Now that you’ve been allowed to wake up fully without the pain from prior, things are slowly coming back to you. You recall your home, your friends, your family; and it’s all just so normal compared to the grand room you’ve found yourself in. This room feels too fantastical to be real.

In fact, it reminds you of the stories you had read about reincarnation and transmigration back in your world. Everything, from your confusion to the room to the butler, seems like the hallmarks of one of the transmigration or reincarnation stories you had read back then. Only… you’re not certain what story you’re in. Geoffrey as a character is unfamiliar to you. The Arrington Estate as a place is unfamiliar to you.

Furthermore…

Why do you still look like yourself?

You can’t wrap your head around it. Sure, some people retained their appearance when they got teleported into another world, but they usually had a role that did not already exist. These people are the “hero” that got called to help save the world, so it makes sense that they retained their appearance.

But it doesn’t make sense for you. You’re considered the Heir to the Arrington Estate, meaning that you must’ve taken over the role of someone who already exists. And yet you still look like yourself.

You groan, feeling tired. You feel lost and confused. There are too many things you don’t understand – too many variables.

It’s all too much for you.

Slowly, you trudge back to your bed, settling yourself under the plush covers. You’re pretty sure that the blanket itself is enough to pay your rent for a year. You don’t even want to think about how much the pillows, the bed, the entire room may cost. You’re certain that it’s more money than you would’ve been able to see in ten lifetimes, at least.

But now you’re able to see all this money – it’s yours, technically.

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. It makes your heart beat loudly inside your brain, making your ears ring as you stare up at the ornate ceiling. Somehow, looking at the ceiling makes the buzz in your brain quiet. Your eyes follow the curves and edges highlighted in gold. Your eyes follow the ceiling’s patterns again and again and again until you lull your tired body into a dreamless slumber.

Geoffrey returns to your room a bit later, only to see you slumbering peacefully. He places your meal down on your bedside table, before taking a seat on the wooden chair by your bedside. Quietly, he watches as your chest rises and falls softly, breathing even in your sleep.

Yes, you must’ve been quite tired, that much is certain. It’s not easy to come back from death, after all. And you should be dead, yet somehow aren’t.

“Curious, isn’t it?” he murmurs, softly, his gaze lingering on your face for any clues.

Yes, it’s quite curious. You should be dead. He was certain that you wouldn’t be able to recover.

Oh, yes, he was quite certain.

After all, he’s the one that killed you.

And yet, here you are.

#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #tsuuper ocs #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #yandere butler #yandere butler x reader #Geoffrey Cullen Tsuu OC #The Arrington Estate (Tsuuries)#Yandere Otome Isekai #Yandere series

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coqhee · 16 hours ago

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𓍯 ⸝⸝ JUST A BET ╱ L.HS ONESHOT

IN WHICH ✷ you bet heeseung that you can find him his perfect girl ∘ ∘ ∘ more

희승 x f!r ― f2l angst fluff && jealousy cursing kissing oc usage highschool au heeseung x oc (not the end relationship) ⨯ 5OO4

em's note ★ wouldn't be a banger if i DIDN'T include angst, actually kinda fw this one heavyyyy lawl, cause yall ever help your situationship get w someone else haha.. ha. ha.

ALL YOUR LIFE YOU HAD KNOWN LEE HEEESUNG TO BE STOIC TOWARDS GIRLS.

somehow it seemed that every girl in your school was in love with heeseung. of course, that was an exaggeration, but somehow every single pretty popular girl you knew would just get flat rejected by heeseung.

a simple “sorry, i don’t like you like that,” would be all he was given and it was in no time that rumors spread that heeseung just wasn’t into girls given his track record.

at this point, you began to feel bad for the girls, even worse for him that he couldn’t find the one. just how could you not like them though. they were even sweet and kind, and didn’t even have a bad personality.

everyone surrounding the two of you seemed to be in a relationship except him and you.

you, because you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, and heeseung, well because he just couldn’t seem to find the one and didn’t seem to care to find the one.

at first it started as a joke, when you were hanging out in your room supposedly, ‘studying,’ when you told him “you’re so picky with girls, let me set you up with someone,”

heeseung had raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, a skeptical smirk tugging at his lips. “and you think you can find me the one?” he teased, crossing his arms back further against the chair near your desk, “haha, very funny y/n,”

“i know i can,” you shot back, your confidence only half-feigned. “you just need someone who gets you, and clearly, you’re incapable of finding her yourself.”

heeseung rolled your eyes at your bullshit statement, he wasn’t buying a single second of it.

“great so then what's my type huh?” he asked, clearly amused with your antics.

you paused, his question catching you off guard. “your type?” you repeated, stalling for time as you racked your brain trying to think of what his type was.

heeseung leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked. “yeah, y/n. if you’re so sure you can find me ‘the one’, you must know what kind of girl i’m into.”

“oh, that’s easy,” you said quickly, refusing to let him see you falter. “someone smart, kind, sarcastic, funny—basically someone who can put up with your dumbass.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “so... basically you?”

you blinked, feeling your face heat up at his unexpected comment. “what? no! i meant someone like me, not me specifically,” you clarified, trying to sound dismissive. “i mean sort of? but like, not me obviously, you know?” you tried chuckling to brush off any arising emotions.

afterall, he’s just your best friend. and everyone knows, don’t fall in love with your best friend or else it gets messy.

he laughed, the sound light and teasing. “relax, y/n, i’m just messing with you. but seriously, if you think you’ve got this all figured out, prove it. find her.”

“fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “give me a week. i’ll find you someone who’s exactly your type, and you’ll be thanking me when you two ride off into the sunset together.”

“deal,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “but just so you know, if you can’t pull this off, i’m never letting you live it down.”

“and if i do?” you countered, narrowing your eyes at him.

heeseung thought for a moment before shrugging. “then i owe you. big time. whatever you want.”

“you’re going to regret that,” you said, smirking as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“we’ll see,” heeseung called after you, his voice laced with amusement.

the two of you went back to actually doing work, however, your mind raced with a mix of determination and unease. finding someone for heeseung sounded simple enough in theory—but why did the idea of him falling for someone else feel like a knot tightening in your chest?

─── ♡

HONESTLY, YOU WERE CONSIDERING JUST NOT SETTING HIM UP WITH ANYONE AND ADMITTING FAILURE.

while it would hurt seeing him getting along with one of your friends and potentially going out with them, you figured your pride would hurt more if you didn’t win this stupid bet.

stupid you, stupid bet, stupid stakes, stupid prizes.

though, you wouldn’t let your own feelings get in the way of trying to make your best friend find his forever girl. that wouldn’t be fair—to him, to the girls he might actually click with, or even to yourself. you told yourself you were doing this out of genuine care, that it wasn’t some half-hearted attempt to distract yourself from the feelings you’d been burying for years.

maybe, just maybe, seeing him happy with someone else would finally push you to let go. watching him smile the way he always did when he was truly at ease, only this time with someone else by his side, might be the catalyst you needed to accept what you’d been trying to avoid: that heeseung would never see you the way you saw him.

you sighed, scrolling through your contacts in search of someone who might fit the impossible checklist you’d mentally created for heeseung. someone funny, smart, patient, and—above all—someone who wouldn’t make your chest ache every time they laughed together.

surely, that would make things easier. seeing him in love—real love—might make you realize that you weren’t the one for him, and that was okay. or at least, that’s what you told yourself. maybe in the process, you’d learn how to untangle your heart from his, stop feeling the way you did whenever he flashed that lopsided grin at you or leaned in just a little too close during your late-night study sessions.

maybe, for once, you could finally move on with your life.

but the thought of it stung in a way you didn’t want to admit. because deep down, you weren’t sure if seeing him happy with someone else would mend the ache in your chest—or make it worse.

your finger hovered over a name, one of your mutual friends who you thought might work. yeorin. she was sweet, easygoing, and had mentioned in passing that she thought heeseung was cute.

perfect. just…not for you.

your chest tightened at the thought, but you ignored it, convincing yourself it didn’t matter. this wasn’t about you. it was about him. so you texted her, casually suggesting a group hangout and strategically arranging it so she and heeseung would have plenty of time to talk.

the hangout itself seemed to go fine—or so you told yourself. you kept a careful eye on them from across the room, watching as they exchanged polite smiles and small talk. it didn’t hurt, not really, but you couldn’t deny the odd feeling that settled in your stomach when you saw the way yeorin laughed at his jokes.

you couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t happy when heeseung reported back to you, that she just “didn’t match his vibe,”

when heeseung reported back to you the next day, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t relieved when he shrugged and said, “she just didn’t match my vibe.”

you raised an eyebrow, masking the quiet satisfaction bubbling up in your chest. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know,” heeseung replied, leaning back against the cafeteria table. “she’s nice and all, but it felt... off. like, there wasn’t anything to talk about,”

you masked your relief with quick witted jabs at him, with a chuckle, “maybe you’re the common denominator, and you’re just faulty.

he gave you a mock glare before cracking a smile. “yeah, or maybe she’s just not my type. you’re the expert here, aren’t you? isn’t it your job to figure this out?”

you laughed, though your mind was already racing to come up with the next plan. this wasn’t going to be easy. “okay,”

─── ♡

YOU WERE CONTENT WITH TRYING AND FAILING, UNTIL YOU FAILED YOURSELF AND INTRODUCED HIM TO HER.

weeks of casual scouting, setting up dates with mutual friends that you knew were into him, and analyzing potential matches later, you finally introduced heeseung to her—a sweet, bright girl named hyejin from your calculus class.

you’d always thought she’d be perfect for him. she was kind, outgoing, and had that same quiet confidence that heeseung carried himself with. to your surprise (and mild horror), the two of them hit it off almost immediately.

they even looked good together, more so than you and him would ever.

you’d watched from a distance during the group outing you’d orchestrated, pretending not to care as heeseung and hyejin laughed together, their conversation flowing effortlessly. heeseung’s usual guarded demeanor had softened, and for the first time, you saw him genuinely invested in getting to know someone.

“you’re really good at this matchmaking thing,” your friend karina had whispered, nudging your side as she caught you watching them.

you forced a smile, brushing it off. “i guess so. he deserves to be happy, you know? thank god finally, hate that guy,” you attempted to joke, feeling your throat go dry.

karina hummed sensing your mock laugh, but kept quiet.

the final straw came during another hangout between the three of you, which was just you third wheeling on a date. hyejin had been running late, and while you and heeseung waited for her to arrive, he seemed distracted, checking his phone every few minutes.

“nervous or something?” you joked, nudging him with your elbow.

heeseung smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “no, just...i don’t want her to feel left out when she gets here.”

“she’ll be fine,” you assured him, forcing a smile. “she likes you, remember? you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

when hyejin finally showed up, the way heeseung’s face lit up was all the confirmation you needed. you watched as he stood up to greet her, his usually calm demeanor breaking into a soft, boyish grin that you’d never seen directed at you.

and that’s when it hit you—this wasn’t just a game anymore. this wasn’t about proving you could find him the perfect girl. this was real, and heeseung was slipping further away from you with every passing day.

you kept up the charade, though. every time heeseung mentioned her name, you smiled and encouraged him, offering advice or teasing him about being “whipped” already.

“she’s different,” he’d said one afternoon when the two of you were hanging out in the library.

“different how?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach twisted.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “she’s just...easy to talk to. i feel like she actually gets me, you know?”

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “that’s great, hee. i’m happy for you.”

“guess you won our bet huh,” he joked, his full attention on texting hyejin back the second his phone lit up with a text from her.

“yeah. guess i did,” you hummed, too distracted to even fully register what he was saying anymore, too focused on the way his eyes lit up just seeing her text.

─── ♡

YOU FIGURED THAT WAS THE END OF YOU AND HIM.

and you weren’t wrong to think so. you couldn’t bare to see him with her. every single time you did, you felt like smashing your head into a locker just to push away the thought of how you just weren’t her.

plus who would want their talking phase hanging around his girl best friend, and it’s not even like she didn’t invite you to their hangouts. cause she did. and it hurt you more knowing that she was doing it because she didn’t mind that.

because she was perfect, and she wasn’t two faced or anything like how you somewhere deep down hoped she was. you wished you could have a reason to hate her. but in reality, you hated her because you couldn’t find a reason to.

you started pulling away, not all at once, but little by little—enough for heeseung to notice, but not enough for him to call you out on it. you skipped out on hangouts with their new couple group, citing homework or vague excuses about being busy. when heeseung texted, you’d reply late, blaming it on being “swamped with assignments.” you even started sitting a few rows away in class, pretending not to notice when he looked for you.

but the truth was, you were avoiding him because being around him—around them—hurt more than you could handle.

you couldn’t tell which hurt more, talking to him, or not talking to him at all. both equally felt like you were ripping your heart out of your chest and stabbing it with a fork over, and over, and over.

the worst part was, heeseung still checked in on you. he’d send you little messages asking if you were okay, reminding you not to skip meals, and forwarding memes to make you laugh. it made it harder, knowing he still cared in some way, but it wasn’t the way you wanted.

the hardest pill to swallow was you only had yourself to blame it on. not heeseung, not hyejin, or any of your other friends that said they looked cute together.

“you’re being ridiculous, you know,” karina said one afternoon as the two of you sat in your usual spot in the library.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, not looking up from your notes.

karina sighed, shutting her book with a dramatic thud. “you’re avoiding heeseung like he has the plague. do you really think he hasn’t noticed?”

“he doesn’t care,” you lied, the words bitter in your mouth. “he’s got hyejin now. he doesn’t need me around.”

karina frowned, leaning closer. “that’s not true, and you know it. just because he’s dating her doesn’t mean he’s forgotten about you. you’re his best friend, y/n. don’t throw that away because you’re jealous.”

you flinched at her bluntness but didn’t deny it. you hated how transparent you were, how easily karina could see through the wall you were trying to put up.

“it’s not jealousy,” you said finally, though even you didn’t believe it. “i just... i need space, from him, thats all.”

karina sighed again, but she didn’t press further. fine. but don’t let this space turn into a permanent gap, y/n. he’s going to notice eventually, and it’s going to hurt him too.”

her words stayed with you long after she left. maybe she was right, but you couldn’t help thinking it was better this way. better to let the distance grow now, while he had hyejin to lean on, than to risk clinging to something you’d already lost.

even though they weren’t officially dating, they might as well have been in your head the way you had took a step back from your friendship between the both of them.

so you kept your distance, even as it killed you to do so. you weren’t losing him, because you never had him. because if heeseung was happy with her, then wasn’t that enough?

─── ♡

THE NEXT TIME YOU SAW HEESEUNG FACE TO FACE WAS AT ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE GROUP OUTINGS.

you’d tried to avoid it, of course, but karina dragged you along, claiming you needed to “stop being a hermit” and “face your feelings head-on.” despite your protests, you found yourself sitting in a crowded booth at a diner, stuck between karina and jake while heeseung and hyejin sat directly across from you.

the whole setup was a slow burn of torture. heeseung was his usual self—laughing, teasing jake, and making jokes that made everyone around him burst into giggles. but you noticed the way his attention kept drifting to you, how he’d glance your way every so often as if trying to gauge what you were thinking.

you tried your best to put on your strongest face at least for tonight. pretend that everything that was fine.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” heeseung said suddenly, his voice cutting through the chatter.

you blinked, startled, as everyone’s eyes turned to you. “oh, uh, just tired,” you said, forcing a smile.

“y/n’s always tired,” jake chimed in, nudging you with his elbow. “or at least that’s her go-to excuse for everything.”

“it’s a good excuse,” you shot back, grateful for the distraction.

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his expression, before hyejin said something to him, and his attention shifted back to her.

as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly hyejin fit into the group. she laughed at all the right moments, added just enough to the conversation without overshadowing anyone, and seemed to understand heeseung in a way that made your stomach twist.

you hated how perfect she was.

“gonna go pay,” you mumbled to karina, sliding out of the booth before anyone could stop you. might as well pick up the bill to make up for all the hangouts you had missed.

once at the front counter paying for your shitty overpriced meal, you looked at the mirror behind the counter, looking yourself in the eye.

“pull yourself together,” you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes taking a sigh, waiting for the people in front of you to finish paying.

when you opened your eyes, you noticed heeseung’s familiar figure behind you when you looked into the mirror. you looked him up and down from the side noticing how tense he seemed.

heeseung didn’t move. instead crossing his arms over his chest. “you’ve been avoiding me.”

you froze, your heart hammering in your chest. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “you barely text back, you skip out on plans, and now you won’t even look me in the eye. what’s going on, y/n?”

your throat tightened, and you looked away, pretending to focus on finding something in your bag, fumbling around with the chapstick, wallet, and candy wrapper still remnant in it. “nothing’s going on. you’re imagining things.”

“don’t do that,” he said, his voice softening. “don’t shut me out.”

you swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. for a moment, you thought about telling him the truth—about the jealousy, the hurt, and the feelings you’d been burying for years. but then you thought about hyejin, and how happy he seemed with her, and the words caught in your throat.

“i’m fine, heeseung,” you said finally, forcing a smile, looking him straight in the eye. “you don’t need to worry about me, go sit down at the table with karina, jake, and hyejin, i got the bill,”

“okay,” he said quietly. “but i’m here if you need me.”

as he left to go back to the table, your heart felt heavier than ever. because you knew you needed him. you just weren’t sure he needed you anymore.

─── ♡

THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED WERE A BLUR OF AWKWARD SILENCES AND FORCED SMILES.

you continued to avoid heeseung as best as you could, half-heartedly pretending everything was fine, by smiling when you did happen to see him. but deep down, the weight of the distance between the two of you was starting to gnaw at you.

you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t make specialized playlists about the breakup that never happened, since well. you were just never together.

what surprised you the most was when hyejin asked you to go get coffee and chat. you weren’t close with her (or at least not anymore), and it confused you even more when she mentioned it would’ve just been the two of you.

"hey," she greeted, her voice soft and calm. "glad you could make it."

“i just wanted to check in with you,” hyejin said, her eyes studying you with an understanding that made you feel both seen and vulnerable.

you slid into the seat across from her, still unsure of why she wanted to talk. "yeah i’m okay. what’s going on? you sounded like you really wanted to chat."

“well, it’s about…you,”

oh.

here's the part where she tells you that you need to stop being friends with heeseung and it’s getting in the way, and she’s not comfortable with him having extremely close female fri-

“thank you for introducing me to heeseung. he’s one hell of a guy, and so extremely kind. but, he’s not mine. i know it. i know his heart belongs to you,” she smiles, a grain of hurt coming from her voice, yet the way she grins, holding your hand in hers is more admirable than you could ever imagine.

you froze, your heart stopping for a moment. "what?" you managed to choke out, almost in disbelief. you couldn’t have heard her right.

hyejin’s gaze softened, and she leaned in slightly, her voice quiet but firm. "y/n, I’ve seen it. the way he talks about you when you’re not around. it’s obvious. and i'm not blind to it. he’s been so incredibly worried that you’re pulling away, and it’s beyond just ‘worrying about a friend’,”

a cold wave of shock washed over you, mixing with a bitter sense of guilt that you hadn't known how to face. you felt like a coward. "but... but we’re just friends. we’ve been friends forever," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “i didn’t want to get in between you two,”

hyejin squeezed your hand gently, her expression still calm but filled with understanding. "y/n, you're not getting in between us," she said softly. "i know you care about him, and i know you’re trying not to ruin anything, but heeseung’s been in love with you for a while now. i can see it just by the way he talks about you, even when he's not trying to." she laughs as though she’s recalling a memory from the back of her mind.

"and you? what about you? you’re okay with this?" you asked, your voice almost breaking. it was hard to ask, but you had to. you couldn’t go on pretending like everything was fine when she had been involved too.

hyejin smiled, soft and understanding. "you’re my friend, y/n. and i want what’s best for you. if that means giving up heeseung, then i’ll do it. you don’t have to worry about me. he’s not mine, and he never was. i’m just glad i got to meet someone like him, but he’s always been yours in a way. i already broke it off with him, we’re just friends now."

there was something in her words, a sense of grace and strength that you didn’t know she had, and it made you feel even more guilty for holding onto your feelings for so long. but it also gave you the push you needed. hyejin had let go, and maybe it was finally time for you to do the same.

"thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "i didn’t expect this... i didn’t expect you to be so understanding."

hyejin gave you a small, warm smile. "of course. just promise me one thing?"

"anything."

"don’t let fear stop you from going after what you want. you deserve to be happy, y/n. you really do."

you nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle deep inside of you. there was still so much uncertainty, so many what-ifs, but for the first time in a long time, you felt ready to face them head-on.

─── ♡

NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT IT SEEMED.

as later that day, you found yourself sitting in your usual spot at the library, tapping your fingers against the table, waiting for heeseung. when he walked in, a casual smile on his face, your heart gave a little jump in your chest. but this time, it was different. you weren’t just happy to see him as a friend—you were hoping that maybe, just maybe, there could be more.

though, you knew from experience, it was better to not jump to conclusions and have high hopes.

he sat across from you, his usual laid-back demeanor in place, but there was something in his eyes that felt... different. maybe he was feeling it too. maybe he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

"so," he said, leaning back in his chair, his voice light but with an undercurrent of tension, "what’s up? you seemed a little off the last time we talked."

“i need to apologize. to you.”

he nodded slowly, unsure of what you were going to say and how he’d react.

“i’m sorry for distancing myself after you and hyejin got close. i should’ve been happy for the two of you, i mean hell, i set the two of you up, but i couldn’t find it in myself to.” you took a deep breath, pausing.

"because," you continued, your voice wavering slightly, "i was too focused on my own feelings. i didn’t realize how much it was affecting me until i saw you two together. and honestly, i felt like i was losing you, even though i knew i had no right to. i let my jealousy get the best of me, and i shouldn't have." you looked down at the table, tapping your index finger to distract your hands from doing something stupid.

“y/n i-” he began to respond, not missing a beat. you shook your head before beginning again. “i need to do this for myself,” you mumbled.

“truth is, when i set you up with people, i figured i just needed to get over loving you, and i obviously didn’t see myself fit as i was just your best friend. thing is, i just didn’t get over loving you and i pushed myself away out of fear of fucking things up, i’ve been an asshole and haven’t been giving you the respect and kindness you or hyejin deserve, and i’m sorry. i completely understand if you still like her, but i just need to get it out there,” you gave some sort of snort, before exhaling now that everything is out.

heeseung’s expression softened, and he took a deep breath, letting out a small sigh as he processed your words.

“can i speak now?” he asked softly. you slowly looked up and nodded, taking in the expression on his face, unable to clearly make out what would fall out of his mouth next.

heeseung leaned forward slightly, his eyes intense yet gentle as he searched yours for a moment, as if trying to make sure you were ready for what he was about to say.

“i never wanted to make you feel like you were just my best friend," he began, his voice steady but laced with something deeper. "i’ve always known how much you mean to me, and i’ve always cared about you more than i ever let on.”

a knot formed in your stomach as his words sank in.

“the truth is, i was just as afraid as you. afraid of ruining everything between us. afraid of messing things up, because what if you didn’t feel the same way? what if we couldn’t go back to being just... us?” he continued, his gaze unwavering.

“so i tried to convince myself that i didn’t feel what i felt for you. i never really dated anyone else, hoping that maybe there was still something between us. then, when you started setting me up with your friends, i thought maybe i just needed to move on, to let go of what i felt for you. but no matter what, it never went away.”

you blinked, feeling like your world had just shifted ever so slightly, as if everything that had been buried was slowly coming to the surface. "so, what are you saying?" you asked, barely above a whisper, your voice shaking slightly with the weight of it all.

heeseung gave you a soft, almost hesitant smile. "i'm saying that i want to stop pretending. i want to stop running away from this... from us." he paused, his eyes softening. "i’ve always wanted you. and if you’ll have me, i want to try. i don’t want to hold back anymore."

you took a breath, feeling the tightness in your chest slowly dissolve as you let his words settle over you. "okay," you whispered, your heart pounding as you squeezed his hand. "let's do this."

─── ♡

YOU’D SPENT THE NEXT FEW DAYS HANGING OUT WITH HIM LIKE OLD TIMES

sometimes you’d catch him glancing at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, and other times, he’d drop little remarks that seemed to hint at something more than just friendship. as if you hadn’t already established you were beyond friends. just…not exactly what type of relationship you had.

one evening, as you were both sitting on your rooftop, watching the sun dip below the horizon, heeseung nudged your shoulder with his own.

“so, this is weird, huh?” he said, voice low.

you laughed softly, nodding. “just a little. but we’ll figure it out.”

“yeah,” he agreed, his voice a little softer. “i think we already have.”

you turned to look at him, meeting his gaze. there was something in his eyes—a mix of vulnerability and certainty—that made your heart race. it wasn’t that he hadn’t always been a little guarded, but there was a clarity now. as if you were both stepping into something new, together.

heeseung leaned in a little further, his breath warm against your cheek. you could feel his eyes searching yours, looking for confirmation, for something more than words.

“you still want to try this?” he murmured.

without thinking, you reached up to place your hand gently against his cheek. “yeah. i think i do.”

the space between you closed, with his lips on yours, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

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bamgyuuuri · 2 days ago

Text

⤷ let me hear you! ┈ cbg.

sypnosis. beomgyu was growing rather peeved towards a certain someone eyeing up his girlfriend as if she wasn’t already taken. so, he took matters into his own hands. literally.

pairings and tags. smut!! mdni!! boyfriend!beomgyu x afab!reader . established relationship . softdom!gyu . themes of slight jealousy and possessiveness . oral (f!rec) . praise and petnames galore . tiny bits of teasing, overstim, and edging . breeding kink too if you squint . lmk if i missed any!

word count. 3.5k

short note … UM first time writing and releasing smut highkey nervous… plz do tell me what you think….! runs away and hides

at first, beomgyu didn’t think much of it. your friend’s gaze would flicker towards you here and there, nothing out of the ordinary.

but as time went on, those glances started lasting a little longer, lingering in a way that made beomgyu’s chest tighten.

he began noticing the subtle ways your friend’s body language shifted whenever you were around—how his posture straightened, how his smile turned a little more eager, and how he seemed to find every excuse to stand closer to you.

the realization didn’t hit him all at once. it crept up slowly, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, until every interaction between the two of you felt like nails on a chalkboard. beomgyu would catch the way your friend’s eyes followed you across the room, the poorly hidden grin whenever you laughed at something he said, and the overly enthusiastic offers to help you with the smallest things.

it wasn’t hard for beomgyu to see what was happening, and the thought of someone else looking at you with that kind of interest sent a wave of irritation curling through him.

it got up to a point where beomgyu just couldn’t take it anymore. the constant glances, the subtle flirting—it was all driving him insane. he could feel the frustration simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over, and he knew he couldn’t just sit idly by any longer. so, he took matters into his own hands. literally.

after getting home from a little gathering with friends, before you can fully process what was happening, beomgyu’s hands were on your shoulders, guiding you backwards until your back hits the mattress.

with a deliberate yet gentle force, he pins you in place, his movements firm but careful. his knees slide between your legs without hesitation, the sudden proximity stealing a soft gasp from your lips. the intensity in his eyes makes your breath hitch, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s spinning too fast to keep up.

your body sinks deeper into the mattress, pressed flat beneath beomgyu’s firm yet fervent hold. his lips crash against yours with a kind of urgency that leaves no room for second thoughts, and you can feel the faint heat blooming across your cheeks, tinting them a soft shade of pink.

the sensation of his knee nudging against your already embarrassingly wet core sends a jolt of electricity through you, leaving your breath uneven as your fingers instinctively clutch onto his shirt.

there’s an edge to his touch, a quiet intensity that speaks volumes—he’s a little aggravated, that much was clear. but beneath it all, there’s something deeper, a need to stake his claim, to remind you exactly who you belong to.

beomgyu pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his breath ghosting against yours. his voice, low and laced with playful teasing, sent a shiver down your spine as he murmured, "you like that, don’t you? does it feel good for you, hm?" the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smirk as he leaned in to press another fleeting kiss to your lips, soft but tantalizing, leaving you wanting more.

“i do, i do…! i like it so much…”

the playful smile on beomgyu’s face only grew wider at your response, the kind of grin that made his teeth show and his eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint. "i'm glad..." he murmured softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

before you could say anything else, he began pressing a series of featherlight kisses to the corner of your mouth, trailing them slowly down to your chin, and then along the curve of your jaw, each kiss left a lingering warmth on your skin, but it was the one he planted on your neck—accompanied by a gentle suck that made your gasp—that sent heat coursing through you.

"then... does my pretty baby like it here?" his words were barely above a whisper, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck as he spoke. he didn’t wait for an answer, instead peppering the area with more kisses, each one deliberate and leaving a trace of his affection. the soft hum of his voice against your skin mixed with the sensation of his lips was overwhelming, leaving you unable to form any coherent words.

all you could do was let out a needy, breathy whine in response, your body arching slightly beneath him as the tension between you grew impossibly thick.

"hmm... i can't hear you," beomgyu purred against the delicate skin of your neck, his breath hot and sending a shiver through your body. he chuckled softly, a sound that was both teasing and full of satisfaction as he felt the way your body responded to him.

"my sweet, sweet baby’s going to have to use her voice for me, or else i’ll stop," he whispered playfully, his words carrying a certain edge that sent a thrill through you. just when you thought he might pull away, beomgyu moved even closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear, placing a gentle kiss there that sent goosebumps down your neck.

your breath hitched even further—if that was even possible—as beomgyu’s teasing continued to unravel you in the best way. a soft whine escaped your lips, the sound a mixture of desperation and longing, and with a shaky breath, you finally voiced out your response. "i like it...!" your voice wavered slightly, the words barely more than a whisper, but the plea that followed was unmistakable.

"please, beomie, no more teasing..." the way you said his name, almost like a beg, was enough to make his heart skip a beat, and he couldn’t help but grin at how much he had you in the palm of his hand.

"aww, my cute girl wants more, doesn’t she?" beomgyu cooed, his voice dropping low, soft yet filled with an undeniable edge. the way he said it made your heart race, each word a gentle tease that sent warmth flooding through you. his eyes held that same playful glint, but there was something more, something that told you he wasn’t about to stop anytime soon.

slowly, he leaned back, his body moving away from yours just enough to make you ache for his closeness. with deliberate slowness, he shifted his knee away from where it had been, a quiet motion that seemed to only increase the tension between you. then, he sat upright, hastily removing his shirt, before his hands moved to your waistband, his thumbs brushing lightly against the fabric of your jeans as if to test your reaction.

"don’t worry, i’ll give you more," he murmured, his voice low and steady, carrying a promise that made your pulse quicken.

beomgyu then tugged them down your legs slowly, his fingers grazing your skin with careful precision, taking his sweet time as if savoring every second of the moment. the sensation of his touch sent a ripple of anticipation through you, your breath hitching with each deliberate movement.

"you look so pretty like this..." he murmured in deep satisfaction, his voice warm and almost reverent. his soft eyes roved over your form, drinking in every inch of you as though you were something he wanted to keep for himself.

"pretty for me, all for me..." he added with a mischievous smirk, the words carrying a possessive edge that made your pulse quicken. his fingers danced teasingly over the waistband of your underwear, hooking gently into the fabric, his gaze never leaving yours as if he were daring you to say something, to challenge him. but all you could do was breathe him in, consumed by the intensity of the moment.

beomgyu simply grins at your willingness, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as his patience slips ever so slightly. it’s his turn to be just a little bit impatient this time, the need to have you even closer growing too strong to ignore. without a second thought, he quickly pulls at your panties and tosses them somewhere in the room, not really aiming for any specific place, but the action is enough to show just how badly he wants you.

"i’ll make you feel good, pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your navel. the warm pressure of his lips sends a shiver through you, and before you can respond, he continues, his kisses trailing lower, moving with an almost agonizing slowness. each kiss is deliberate, a mark of his affection and desire as he takes his time, savoring every inch of your skin.

beomgyu watches you carefully, his gaze full of enjoyment as he notices the way you squirm beneath him, the way your body responds to his touch. he’s drawing out every second, knowing just how much you’re craving the next move.

the moment he was right above your heat, beomgyu smirks as he spreads your legs while he slots himself between them, eyes filled with want flickering up to yours as he leans closer to finally lap at your pussy like a man starved.

as if on cue, you arch your back with a whine slipping from your lips as your fingers found their way to his hair, gripping at the soft locks as he began eat you out unbashedly, your head pressed back against the pillow, a soft moan escaping your lips not too long after.

pleased with how reactive you were, beomgyu continues his ministrations, eagerly licking and sucking just to get a reaction out of you. he would occasionally hum, sending waves of vibrations and heightening the pleasure you felt all the more as he did.

"oh, sweetheart… tell me how good it feels for you," he murmured between laps, his tone low. "come on… let me hear you." beomgyu practically purrs, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your inner thighs.

you could only whine and cry out in response, hips bucking up against beomgyu’s lips as they seemed to have a mind of their own, your grip on the locks of his hair tightening with every single passing moment. “f-feels… good…!”

beomgyu smiled, clearly pleased with your response, but he knew you could do more. “you can speak up a little more than that, can’t you, baby?” he said playfully, his voice warm and full of affection. “i know you can…” his words were filled with teasing, but there was a tender softness to his tone as he spoke.

trying to obey his gentle command, you tried to voice out your scattered thoughts, now a blabbering mess, “i like it…! god—i love it! so much!”

the sweet confirmation that escaped your lips made his skin tingle in excitement, making him groan quietly. it only urged him further, as beomgyu continued on lapping at your folds with newfound fervor, beomgyu now sucking on your clit with a satisfied groan.

your body was almost like putty for him to work with—so willing, so beautiful, all for him to see. he could feel the tension in your fingers, the way your mewls became a tad bit louder; he knew you wanted more, and more. oh, how loved this part, loved the way you moaned under his touch.

and as beomgyu sensed your climax nearing, he couldn’t help but smirk, knowing just how to tease you. with a sudden, playful move, he pulled away, leaving you with a soft whine of disappointment, your eyes searching for his with a mix of confusion and longing.

“gyu.. i was close..”

beomgyu chuckles softly, pressing a quick kiss to your inner thigh before sliding back up your body, his hands resting gently at your hips, his lips and his chin glistening with your arousal. “i know, pretty girl. i know…” beomgyu murmured with a soft smile on his face, his eyes warm as he pressed a light kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself just a bit.

one of his fingers then gently traced up your arm, brushing over your skin with soft, tender touches. he then cupped your chin with his hand, turning your face just slightly, guiding your gaze to meet his. he smiled at you, his eyes full of warmth and care.

"i'm going to make you feel even better, yeah? will you let me do that for you, baby?" beomgyu whispered, his thumb sliding over your cheek. his fingers trailed down the side of your neck, tracing over your skin, before he pulled his hand from your face and placed it back on the mattress.

"mhm... please..." you murmured softly, your voice filled with trust and want, your eyes meeting his with a quiet plea for him to continue.

beomgyu then smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before settling back, the kiss brief yet full of affection. he kept his hands at your hips, his fingers curling around the soft curves gently.

"okay, baby..." he whispered once more, pulling you just that little bit closer—he looked satisfied now, like he'd succeeded in his mission, as he took a deep breath.

beomgyu positions himself right near your entrance, teasing his cockhead just a tad and giggling once he hears a whine leave your lips, then slowly, yet surely, pushing his length into you, letting out a soft groan as he did so.

beomgyu was gentle at first—he always was. he let you take your time to adjust to his size momentarily, his hands on your hips grounding you, but you could tell he was holding back just that little bit more than usual, as if he didn't want to hurt you or something like that.

as he began to thrust into you, but he didn't go too fast, taking his time, making sure that you were comfortable before he moved any faster himself. his breathing was a little ragged, his dark brown hair falling over his eyes as he leaned closer to you, pressing soft, warm kisses along your neck while he keeps his thrusts minimal.

but this, in turn, fueled your own impatience, your arms lacing around his neck as you breathed out, “gyu.. go faster, please..”

beomgyu was a little surprised by your admission, but the warmth in his smile showed just how much he appreciated it. "if you're sure, baby," he too breathed softly, his hand gently brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face, his touch light and caring.

he presses one last kiss to your skin before leaning up just that little bit, making sure you were comfortable before doing as you had requested, shifting a little before his hands found your hips again. now that he had permission, he started to pick up his pace, his hips rutting against yours with more fervor, letting out a long, low groan.

"f-fuck... that’s it.. you're doing so good for me.." he murmured against your skin, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collarbone, up your neck, leaving lovebites wherever he could reach.

beomgyu was breathing harder now, but he didn't seem to mind, his body working against yours in perfect tandem. the boy leaned closer, pressing his lips against yours again, his mouth opening just a little as if to seek entry into yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip, a silent request to deepen the kiss.

and of course you complied, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let him in, like you always did.

he groaned softly into the kiss as his tongue found yours, beomgyu’s hands moving now at your legs, parting them wider and resting under your thighs, making him shift to a different angle, making him moan softly against your lips, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your skin with just a little more force.

with the newfound position, beomgyu repeatedly hit your sweet spot, making you squirm and mewl as you pulled away from the kiss to breathe, your lips parting as your cheeks flared and heated up with arousal.

beomgyu hummed in satisfaction against you as he moved, pushing you closer and closer. he, too, was a moaning mess now, your name falling from his lips now and then, his voice coming out in a low voice as he breathed heavily against your skin, his own warm and glistening with sweat.

soon enough, you feel a familiar knot forming in your stomach, indicating that your release was once again near.. “gyu… i’m close...!”

beomgyu lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and nodded, cursing under his breath as he shifted his hands to take one of yours, lacing your fingers together. beomgyu gave a warm squeeze to your hand, a silent reassurance that you could trust him, that you were safe, and that he had you.

as he feels you clench around his cock so suddenly, a soft moan spilled from his lips as he moved inside you once more, his pace quickening just that little bit.

"shit, come on, baby, cum for me… go on, sweet girl…" he purred gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. beomgyu held your hand tightly as he continued to whisper sweet words of praise, wanting to help you reach that edge.

with his words of encouragement spurring you on and one final moan, your climax came tumbling down on you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as your lips remained parted slightly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

beomgyu smiles and pants but continues to move, his pace never faltering as he lets you ride out your high while also actively chasing his own release.

the unwavering movements were a tad bit much for you, and it showed as your whines and moans became a little more high pitched, your hands gripping on the mattress for dear life as your body trembled from the overstimulation.

but oh, were you so beautiful, all of these soft noises you let out… beomgyu felt like was losing his mind, and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own climax.

he leans down and pressed a kiss against the skin of your neck again, just above the hickeys he left before, breathing heavily. he then moves up, his free hand cupping your face and tilting it back just a little as he murmurs against your lips, "mmh.. willl you let me cum inside, pretty girl? let me make you a mommy?”

the words came out of his mouth a little unknowingly, but the thought of you being round with his child made beomgyu’s head spin a little, making his thrusts a little more erratic. but you, too frenzied and out of it to even process anything properly, could only nod feverishly, the intensity of the moment too much to handle.

your wordless response was enough for him.

beomgyu leaned down, his face softening as he moved closer to you. he captured your lips once more in a passionate kiss, the warmth of his touch lingering between you. the kiss deepened slowly, his movements fast yet loving, as if savoring the moment. he held your hand tightly, his fingers gently curling around yours.

his body was pressed close to your own, the warmth of his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he stayed there, continuing to rut and move his hips against yours quite roughly, the very prospect of possibly making you the mother of his children just spurring him on even further.

with a rather loud whine, beomgyu’s body stutters as he finally spurts his cum into you, filling you to the brim as he moans against your lips, his chest heaving from the intensity of the moment. he holds you close, fingers gripping the softness of your hips, trying to catch his breath.

beomgyu gently pulled away from your lips, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gazed down at you, the fucked out expression on your face making his heart swell with pride, as it was a reflection of how he had made you feel just moments earlier, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment.

"you did so well, baby... always so good for me," beomgyu murmured softly, his voice low and tender as he hovered over you, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. his eyes softened with affection, his gaze lingering on you for a moment, appreciating how you responded to him. the warmth between you both felt like it stretched through the very air, creating a space just for the two of you, where everything else in the world could melt away.

his eyes then flickered towards the bedside table, drawn to the faint glow of your phone.

for a brief moment, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, because there it was—the call he made sure was on the whole time.

his eyes glimmered briefly, smug satisfaction rising within him, and he let the moment settle in, quietly relishing the knowledge that he had heard everything.

now that bastard was sure to leave you alone once and for all.

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