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robotstrategy · 10 months ago

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Recalled • Part 6 • 46 - Roland and Nero

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 6 Masterlist • Next

Nero and Carter stand in the main room of the apartment, Carter moves around boxes as Nero sweeps up broken glass. She told Carter that the vase had broken on accident, in reality, Roland was so miserable that morning that he had swiped the thing off the table. Nero doesn’t blame him, she’d be pretty miserable too if her assaulter’s gift to her was sitting in a frequently visited spot.

“They’re such nice flowers, it’s a shame they have to be thrown away,” Carter remarked.

“They were a gift from… someone…” Nero explains, alluding to Trevor.

“Never mind then.”

Nero dumps the broken vase and the flowers into a garbage bag and ties it up. Carter looks over to Roland’s bedroom door. “Should I put these things in his room?” He refers to the boxes.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll mind if you come in. Fair warning though, there was a mishap yesterday and he ain’t looking too good.”

Carter nods. “Alright.”

Carter knocks on the door before slowly opening it, he jumps as Roland jolts up in bed; covering himself like a woman caught in the nude. His face is red and scabby, and there’s a thick stitch going across his chin.

“Did he do this to you?” Carter asks him, Roland shakes his head. “I just had a bad fall on concrete, I’ll be fine.”

“Right, umm,” Carter starts moving in the boxes.

“You can just put them against the closet, I’ll move them later.” Roland directs.

Carter still worries. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Roland shrugs. “Nero talked to me while I had a bath yesterday. I don’t feel unsafe,” Roland takes the covers off his chest. “I mean, look at me, I could’ve pummeled the guy if my meds weren’t on full blast. I’m just angry and upset.”

Carter looks him in the eyes. “If you ever need someone other than Nero to talk to I’m also here for you.”

Roland nods. “Thanks.”

Carter finishes moving the boxes, he comes out to Nero staring at the front door.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“Yeah, Roland’s dad.”

“Funny, Roland has never talked about his dad.”

“He only found out he wasn’t dead last week.”

“Oh.”

Nero hears someone knock at the door, she rushes over to unlock it. “Hello Mr. Del-gah-doe?” Nero awkwardly greets him.

Danilo looks stunned. “That’s right, who are you?”

“I’m Nero.”

“Oh, I thought you were a boy, and umm, not a Rewind.”

Nero gives him the benefit of the doubt. “Did Roland not tell you I was a Rewind?”

“He did not.”

Nero turns around shouting into the apartment. “Roland! You didn’t tell him I was a Rewind?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It really doesn’t,” Danilo assures her.

“It does to most people,” Nero hisses, nonetheless she opens the door letting Danilo in. Nero points to Carter. “This is Carter, by the way, a friend of mine, we’re just moving stuff in for Roland.”

“Is he helping you?” Danilo asks about Roland.

“He had a bad fall on concrete yesterday,” Carter says.

“Oh, has his boyfriend come over to comfort him? I’d like to meet him soon.”

Both Nero and Carter freeze, Nero suspects they’re thinking the same thing. ‘How do we tell this guy what happened without going into too much detail?’

“They, they had a bad break up, when you talk to him today don’t mention his ex, please,” Nero confesses to him.

Danilo’s face saddens. “I see, sorry about that.”

“At least he’s doing better today, I heard he did really well in the chopper this morning.”

“Ah, that is good. I heard he already knew how to fly a chopper from his time in the graveyard.”

“Yeah, it was quite scary for me, I was originally going to be an aviation bœuf. You can imagine my shock when my arms and legs already knew what they were doing.”

“Wait… you…?”

“Yeah, I’ve got his old legs, parts of his arms, and little grey matter that connects it all together.”

“How much of him was gone?”

Nero hesitates. “Well there’s me, and then believe it or not, Connor Lassiter has most of his right arm, and then his frontal lobe is somewhere, not like I want to find it.”

“I see.” Danilo looks her in the face. “I noticed you only put makeup on half of your face, why?”

Nero laughs. “Firstly, I don’t think he’s deserving of looking pretty, secondly his skin develops slowly, I think he’s only gotten a pimple once.” She talks about Starkey.

“Hmm, well it’s very nice, I was just wondering if you could help with my daughter’s quinceañera. I’ve already had to put aside money for the food, the venue, and the dress.”

“Oh Lilian, I could try to help with her makeup. I wouldn’t want you paying me though, I’m not sure if I could do both sides properly.”

Danilo shakes his head. “Then you could help my mother with her hair, I wouldn’t want to force a responsibility onto you. You probably have enough stress as it is.”

“I do, and thanks.”

Danilo looks over to Roland’s room. “May I see him?”

“Yeah, of course, just knock before going in.”

Roland hears someone knock at the door, he sees his father coming in, and his father gasps at the sight of his face.

“Oh pobre tiburón! Your face is so red!”

Roland becomes teary-eyed, yesterday morning he wanted to look like this, today he doesn’t want to believe this is what he looks like at all.

“Oh please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Danilo sits down beside him. “You’re not taking this well I’m guessing?”

Roland nods. “It hurts, it hurts so bad!” He learns over into his dad’s arms, crying into his shoulder. He then stops, placing his chin on his father’s shoulder. “How’s Lilian doing?”

Roland hears a smile in Danilo’s voice. “That’s what I wanted to tell you about, yesterday I went with her and your mother to pick out a dress for her quinceañera. It’s very pretty, it has a ball gown and ruffled top like a flamenco dress, I think I have a picture of her in it.”

Roland turns around to see the picture, the dress is periwinkle with little silver accents. “She’s very pretty.” He frowns, thinking back to himself.

“Think your face will heal in time, if not I still think we could make you look nice.”

Roland sniffs. “Thanks, papá.”

Danilo smiles. “You’re very welcome Rolando.”

Roland looks away from his dad, looking out the window.

“Should I leave you alone then?” His father asks.

“Yeah, I’m just done with today.” He confesses.

“Ah, right, I’ll leave you alone then.” As his father leaves Roland goes back to lying down, sighing as his head hits the pillow. He had seen the state of Trevor today, there was staining under his nose from where blood had gushed out, and he was walking funny. Trevor’s roommate had told someone in the group that apparently his testicles had experienced so much blunt-force trauma that they had to cut them off. “Is he getting them replaced?” “Yeah, and he’s going to have to pay for them himself, for some reason he won’t fess up what happened.” Roland looks beside him to Nero, Nero had said something about getting justice. “Good,” Nero says under her breath. Roland gasps, and Nero whips her head at him. “I-I just, wow, I didn’t think you’d…”

“Well, I wanted to teach him a lesson, it’s a shame though that he can get his balls replaced,” She speaks even colder and quieter. “I should’ve kicked him even more.”

Roland rolls over in his bed, scrolling on his phone, he wonders if Hayden would be up for talking. Nero keeps telling him that everything before his unwinding isn’t his fault, but she wasn’t there to experience it, Hayden was.

Roland dials up Hayden’s number and waits to see if he’ll answer, it takes a few rings until he hears something.

“Hey Roland, long time no hear.”

“Hi…”

“Are you okay?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, you have the stage or rather the radio… Hey, you took my job!” Hayden teases.

Roland laughs, and then his tone drops again. “I, I had a boyfriend, and…”

“A boyfriend! Really? What’s his name?”

Roland stalls. “It, It doesn’t matter, he, he… oh god, give me a moment, I can’t do this.” Roland puts his head on the mattress, taking a few sniffs before he tries talking again. “He didn’t respect my boundaries, and he already had a girlfriend our entire relationship.” He cries.

“Oh… jeez… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s just, that night I had a dream with Risa in it, and it made me think how horrible I am. Nero says I have to disassociate myself and that it’s not my fault, but she wasn’t there. I, I just can’t see myself as anything but a monster.”

“Well… Nero is right, you’re Modified, therefore your past actions have become irrelevant. It does seem stupid in a way doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Roland mumbles. “By the way, I listened to your radio that night.”

Hayden sounds embarrassed. “O-oh, what night was that?”

“Saturday night.”

“Oh o-okay, umm I was talking about that new charity right?”

“No, I think it was about your hobbies, I heard that you liked surfing random blogs,” He pauses. “Your voice is really relaxing when you whisper, it put me right to sleep.” He laughs.

Hayden’s voice calms, “Oh, you're a late-night listener?”

“No, I just turned it on to procrastinate sleep.”

Hayden giggles. “I guess that didn’t work then.”

“Yeah, but I’m happy I didn’t pull an all-nighter.”

There’s a little pause of silence in Roland’s room until Hayden talks again. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but when you said your boyfriend didn’t respect your boundaries and how Risa was in your dreams, did he?…”

Roland cuts him off. “We got the same treatment, except Risa and I weren’t dating, and I didn’t put my hand down Risa’s pants.”

“Oh.” Hayden emits something between a gasp and a shiver.

“It’s alright, it was the first day in the cycle of my meds, so I didn’t feel anything.”

“But that’s still so scary.”

“Yeah, but I’m not scared of him, I’m just angry and upset that our relationship ever even happened. I guess the fact that I had finally figured myself out and a boy actually wanted me just got the best of me.”

“Roland, don't blame yourself for being assaulted!”

“I’m not, I just wish I could’ve seen it coming sooner,” Roland then smirks. “But he got what was coming for him, Nero kicked him hard so many times in the nuts that they had to be amputated.”

“HOLY SHIT! Well, I guess no sex for him, unless he's getting them replaced, is he getting them replaced?”

“I think he is.”

“Dang it!”

Roland laughs. “Yeah Nero says she should’ve kicked him harder,” Roland gets off his bed. “I’ve got some things to put away, I’ll be putting you on speaker.”

“Alright, speaking about that, how’s dorm life been treating you?”

“Oh terrible, I got roomed with an Incel, you know what that guy said to me on the night of my assault?”

“What did he say?”

“Well, first he asked me if I tried to stick my dick in crazy, and then he told me that’s why he likes body pillows, because they don’t talk nonsense, and they don’t say no!”

“EW! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THAT GUY?!”

Roland puts clothes away. “I know! Like that’s the last thing I want to hear right now.”

“I hope you gave him a piece of your mind!”

“I tried to, but I didn’t exactly have it in me to do so after the incident.”

“Fair.”

Roland stores more stuff under his bed. “So anything going on with you lately?”

“Well other than the radio, there’s banquets, parties, political debates,” Hayden sighs. “Just a bunch of rich people shit.”

“Well, some of that stuff sounds like it could be fun every once in a while. We’re having a quinceañera for my sister at the end of spring.”

“Oh, nice! You know, for some reason, I thought your sister was older than fifteen, and, Hey wait! You’re Spanish?” Hayden shouts.

Roland wheezes. “Hey, I didn’t know until like a month ago! And yeah, my sister is turning 18 at the end of spring, we’re having a very late quinceañera, my dad says it’s more like a dieciochoañera.”

“I’m going to assume that’s eighteen-year-something…?”

“Yeah,” Roland puts away the last of his stuff. “Would you like to come?” He suggests.

“Oh, no that’s okay, I’ll probably be alienated anyway.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll probably be alienated as well, and it would be nice to see you in person.”

“Hmm, well it’s alright with you I’ll come.”

“Thank you, Hayden!”

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #roland taggart #unwind oc #hayden upchurch

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the-rewatch-rewind · 2 years ago

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Another new episode! Maybe the weirdest movie I've talked about yet?

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind, the podcast where I count down my top 40 most rewatched movies over a 20-year period. My name is Jane, and today I will be discussing number 30 on my list: Twentieth Century Fox’s 1952 science fiction comedy Monkey Business, directed by Howard Hawks, written by Ben Hecht, Charles Lederer, and I.A.L. Diamond, and starring Cary Grant, Ginger Rogers, Charles Coburn, and Marilyn Monroe.

Dr. Barnaby Fulton (Cary Grant) is a chemist developing a formula to reverse some of the symptoms of aging. His boss, Mr. Oxley (Charles Coburn) believes this could become a fountain of youth drug, but Barnaby is more realistic, and merely hopes it could cure his bursitis. He’s been experimenting on chimpanzees but decides to try the newest version on himself – and soon after begins behaving like a frivolous college boy. However, unbeknownst to Barnaby, or anybody else, one of his chimpanzees has mixed a separate formula and poured it into his water cooler, so it’s actually the drink of water he used to wash down his formula that he’s reacting to. After a wild day, much of which he spends with Oxley’s sexy secretary Miss Laurel (Marilyn Monroe), the formula finally wears off and Barnaby is back to his more mature self. He’s eager to try it again, but after hearing about his day, his wife Edwina (Ginger Rogers) drinks his second dose before he has a chance to – and, crucially, also takes a drink of tainted water. And hijinks continue to ensue.

The first time I saw this movie was when it happened to come on TV. It must have been summertime because my sister was away at camp and I distinctly remember writing her a postcard about how I had just watched the funniest movie ever. Thus began a phase when I was kind of obsessed with this movie: I watched it three times in 2003, three times in 2004, and twice in 2005. Then I got a little tired of it and took a break, but I returned to it in 2009 and again in 2010, then twice in 2012, and then once each in 2014, 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2022. There are certain things about this movie that really bother me, which is why I don’t rewatch it as frequently anymore, but there are also things about it that I absolutely love, so I don’t think I will ever abandon Monkey Business completely.

This is the second appearance of both Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers on this podcast, so I’ve already mentioned that they’re two of my faves. To people who have vaguely heard of them, a movie like this might sound out of character for these stars. Cary Grant seems to generally be remembered as a debonair leading man, and Ginger Rogers is generally remembered as Fred Astaire’s frequent dance partner. While those aren’t exactly inaccurate perceptions, they are definitely incomplete. People don’t talk nearly enough about how funny both of them were. Like, no offense to the writers, but with the wrong stars this movie could have been absolute garbage. I mean, I think we can all agree that the story is completely ridiculous. But Grant and Rogers were both comedic geniuses, and basically the only reason I keep revisiting this movie is because of how fun they are to watch in it. By 1952, they were both at least two decades into their film careers, and while they did sometimes play serious dramatic roles, much of their work was in comedy, so they’d had plenty of time to hone their comedic skills, and it shows.

I love that Monkey Business gives them so many opportunities to show off different facets of their comedic talents. The silly tone of the movie is set at the beginning of the opening credits, which Grant keeps interrupting by opening the door, and we hear director Howard Hawks’ voice offscreen saying, “Not yet, Cary.” Then in the first scene, Barnaby and Edwina are at home, preparing to go out for the evening, but Barnaby is distracted thinking about the formula and keeps failing at getting ready properly, until Edwina gives up. They both have such perfect timing and excellent chemistry that this dynamic feels entirely believable and natural, and is also incredibly funny. The first time Barnaby takes the formula, Edwina isn’t around, so we get to see Cary being a goofball by himself, and then with Marilyn Monroe as his “straight man”. But then Edwina takes the formula, and it’s Ginger’s turn to be silly, and Cary’s turn as the straight man. And then later both Barnaby and Edwina drink a bunch of coffee in his office, using the water from the cooler, so they both start acting like children, which means they get to act goofy together for a bit. These changing dynamics are all handled flawlessly. Even when they’re under the influence of the formula and acting silly, they’re still somehow believable. While I’m not convinced that feeling younger would really make people behave quite the way they do, the actors sell it so well that it’s easy to just accept it.

The aspect of their behavior that I have the hardest time accepting is that while under the influence of the formula, both Barnaby and Edwina seem to have the instinct to cheat on each other, in ways consistent with stereotypes about their respective sexes. Younger man Barnaby finds himself drawn to sexy Miss Laurel – I know I mentioned in a previous episode that as an asexual I don’t really understand what “sexy” means, but there seems to be a general consensus that Marilyn Monroe was it. Her character is a fairly basic ditzy blonde who was clearly hired for her looks and not her secretarial skills and isn’t particularly interesting, although she does get to say one of the funniest lines in the movie: “Mr. Oxley’s been complaining about my punctuation, so I’m careful to get here before 9:00.” The first time Barnaby takes the formula, he leaves work in the middle of the day, so Miss Laurel is sent to find him, and they end up going out on an extended date. At one point, Miss Laurel kisses him on the cheek, but then he mentions his wife and she backs off disappointedly. So it’s relatively innocent “cheating,” if it can even be considered cheating at all, but that doesn’t stop Edwina from getting jealous – a feeling that is significantly heightened when she takes the formula, to the point that she tries to start a fight with Miss Laurel. Then younger Edwina seems to think she and Barnaby are on their honeymoon, but they end up having a weird fight that doesn’t really make any sense and she locks him out of their hotel room, at which point she calls their lawyer, Hank Entwhistle, played by Hugh Marlowe, who, it was revealed in their fight, kissed Edwina once, presumably years ago. We don’t get to see exactly what happens next, but the following morning Hank seems to think Barnaby is physically abusive based on what Edwina told him. So to summarize: men who feel young want to go out with pretty women, and women who feel young want to pick fights with their husbands and turn to a “friendzoned” man waiting in the wings. And this is reiterated when they take the formula again and act like actual children instead of young adults. Even then, Barnaby is drawn to Miss Laurel and Edwina is jealous of them, and after a fight with Barnaby, Edwina calls on Hank again. I’m not going to claim the way they portray this isn’t funny, because it is, but I don’t love that message, and that’s part of why I don’t love this movie as much as I used to anymore. There are a few scenes between “normal” Barnaby and Edwina where they talk things out that I think are actually pretty good, and it seems like they’re trying to show that a certain level of maturity is necessary for a healthy long-term relationship, which I think does make the message better, albeit amatonormative. I still think they could have made that point without being quite so sexist about it. Although it was 1952, so… maybe they couldn’t have.

There is also some blatant racism in this movie that I realize was common for the time, but that doesn’t make it okay. Child Barnaby overhears child Edwina calling Hank to come over, so he grabs a pair of pruning shears and rallies a group of (all white) neighbor children playing “Cowboys and Indians” to help him tie up and scalp Hank when he arrives. One of the kids informs Barnaby that they have to do a war dance first, and sing, so Barnaby organizes the kids into an “Indian choir” of sorts, and listeners… it is so painfully bad. On the one hand, from a historical perspective, it’s interesting to see how white American kids used to play in that era, but on the other hand, it’s just… no. I get that it’s supposed to be silly, but there are so many ways to be silly that don’t involve mocking Native Americans. A less serious complaint I have about that part is the next time we see Hank after he’s been tied up, part of his head has been shaved all the way to the skin, and there is no way the clippers Barnaby had could have cut anywhere near that close. And while I can easily suspend disbelief enough to accept a chimpanzee unlocking the secret of youth with a mixture of random chemicals, asking me to believe that pruning shears could shave a man’s head that closely is going way too far!

I also had a know-it-all phase when it bothered me that people often refer to chimpanzees as “monkeys” when they’re actually apes, but now I’m more in the “all words are made up to begin with and classifications of animals are especially made up, so who cares” camp. I guess that’s one way I can tell I’ve grown up and matured since the first time I watched this movie, without trying to use the ability to maintain healthy romantic relationships as a metric. But the more I learn about how animals – particularly apes – have historically been treated by the entertainment industry, the less I can enjoy seeing them in older movies. I haven’t heard any specific stories about Monkey Business in particular, but I doubt the chimps featured in it had very good lives, and that is yet another thing that makes it harder to enjoy this movie.

But despite all its problematic aspects and its relentless amatonormativity, overall I do think Monkey Business has a pretty good message about our society’s obsession with trying to stay young. After he and Edwina have both tried the formula, Barnaby has this to say about youth: “We remember it as a time of nightingales and valentines. But what are the facts? Maladjustment, near idiocy, and a series of low comedy disasters. That's what youth is. I don't see how anyone survives it.” And in the final scene, Barnaby concludes: “You’re old only when you forget you’re young.” The movie points out the importance of learning from experience to keep people from acting like fools who don’t understand consequences their whole lives. But it also shows that you can embrace getting older without completely abandoning the youthful joy that people and things you love brought you when you were younger. So the way I feel about this movie is remarkably consistent with its message. As I’ve grown and matured and learned more about the world, I’ve become more aware of its negative aspects, but that doesn’t negate the delight it brought me when I was younger, and having some problematic elements doesn’t make the movie all bad. Monkey Business reveals that life is more complicated than we think it is when we’re young, and youth is more complicated than we think it is when we’re old. Basically, life is messy, and there are no quick fixes, so let’s stop wasting time seeking perpetual youth and instead make the most of the life we have.

This does feel like a bit of a hypocritical message coming from Hollywood, which is famous for its obsession with youth and beauty. I do appreciate that this movie’s two main stars were both in their 40s – positively ancient by Hollywood standards, at least for an actress. In fact, at 41 years old (possibly only 40 at the time of filming), Rogers was the oldest leading lady to ever star in a Howard Hawks movie, which is incredibly upsetting. Grant would continue to play leading men for over another decade, and by this point in his career he’d already begun starring opposite women who were closer to Marilyn Monroe’s age than to his own (he was 22 years older than her), so it’s a bit refreshing to see him mostly paired with Rogers, who was only 7 years younger than him, with his attraction to Monroe portrayed as youthful infatuation that we’re not really supposed to take seriously. Marilyn Monroe herself perfectly embodied Hollywood’s ideal of youthful glamor, and it literally destroyed her well before she could make it to her 40s, so her presence in this movie really draws attention to the hypocrisy of its message. It would be great if the entertainment industry would actually take the movie’s advice and value age and experience rather than constantly worshipping (and thereby often ruining) youthful beauty, but as is so often the case, Hollywood released a movie with a decent message and then proceeded to ignore it.

Thank you for listening to my conflicted thoughts and feelings about this movie. I truly don’t know if anything I said made any sense to those of you who haven’t watched it, which I assume is most people, but I greatly appreciate you sticking with me anyway. Remember to subscribe or follow if you want to hear more, and rate or leave a review to let me know how you’ve been enjoying this podcast so far. Next week I will talk about the third and longest movie I watched 17 times, which is another fun, silly, obscure older movie, so I hope you’re enjoying these. And if you’re not, I hope you will continue listening anyway, I promise there are more recent and more well-known films coming up too. As always, I will leave you with a quote from the next movie: “How do you say in English ‘parachute’?”

#monkey business #cary grant #ginger rogers #marilyn monroe #charles coburn #the rewatch rewind

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nerdyenby · 2 years ago

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Cyan time :D I’m watching Ranboo

Pre-game

They look so silly /pos

“This is the first MCC in like 12 of them that I’ve been wearing pants” are you wearing pants under the dress sir???

That crown is straight up floating, I know it’s on a headband but it is just not touching his head

Y’all did you know that Ranboo has a show???

Is this Ranboo’s first repeat costume? Or have they not done Rosalina before? He said he bought the costume a couple days ago but I swear he’s been Rosalina before

“‘Men used to go to war’ I could go to war in this, it’s called psychological manipulation”

Do amab people get banned for being shirtless on twitch? I know hot tub streams are a thing so idk

Taylor Swift is an ARG, so true

STOP WITH THE RITTIES I CANT

I WILL GO WATCH OLI INSTEAD, DONT MAKE ME

I am so so SO ready for the Oli and Ranboo chemistry

WHO THE FUNK CALLED OLI TOMMY?!!? I WILL FIGHT YOU /j

Oli is an artist, don’t underestimate him

WHAT THE HELL OLI??????

Ran and Oli looking to Callum for igl and Callum just not even trying because he just knows Tommy’s gonna show up five minutes late with Starbucks and team leader energy

Oli is so out of the loop, Eloise just freaking fed him lies, as she should

I see this team placing between 2nd and 6th in every game, they’re so well rounded

Oli trying to get Ranboo to unlock their true potential and Callum’s just “This is gonna be a really special event” 😭

The way I only just remembered Oli’s reputation as cursebreaker and now I’m ready to actually believe in them winning

Ran and Aimsey barking and meowing at each other 😭

Ranboo is dying

“Considering earlier a week ago we were not discord friends, I now see you as a close one” this is everything I hoped for out of this matchup

More than half expecting tommy to be a no show tbh

How are they going to fit a fourth person into this call, it’s already so much energy and we gotta fit Tommy in here

PEER PRESSURE FOR THE WIN!!

Y’all 😭😭😭

I swear very rarely but this stream got me “wtf”-ing all over the place

“Bark at your therapist” will do, Tom o7

Aqua’s skins are so cool!!!

Tommy banned from mcc, real and true

The screen feels so empty without the vtuber

Grid Runners

BEST GAME TIME!!!

Why does everyone except Ranboo have garbage opinions today, grid runners my beloved

Wish it was later tbh but considering how abysmal these comms are about to be this might be for the best

WHY IS RANBOO DOING A BRITISH ACCENT????

THAT DUNK TANK RUN HOLY CRAP!!!

The way everyone but Ran fell 😭😭😭

Grid is not your worst game, y’all have energy and synergy

*Taking notes* 10th is sick and 3rd is hot

OLI WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU WANT TO SKIP SANDS???

We skip one of the parkour games or tgttosawaf, right? Right????

Top 3 things most wrong with the world according to Tommyinnit: climate change, men, and elevators

Parkour Warrior

The pkw logo 💕💗💕💗💗💕💗💕💗💕

Highkey thought they played this in the event Tommy and Oli won together but that was the other event Oli won, my bad

No one reacting to Ranboo screaming his lungs out is so real

Why is Tommy like this???

CALLUM MVP!!!

THOSE ARE MY BOIS!!!!!!!

Ran and Callum cheering for each other :(((

They got joint 2nd, I love this team so much you guys

Sands of Time

Tommy: “Tell me what to do” Oli: *tells him what to do* Tommy: “No, f*ck off”

This team’s energy oscillates like nothing else, I swear

A different word puzzle, thank god

Mmmm slippy bees

This is such a frantic sot, I think they’re good they just all sound so urgent it’s stressing me out

No one jailed, is that a first???

Ace Race

Ran pulling a Wilbur and tabbing out to adjust music mid ace race

“I’m losing it” sir, you lost it a while ago

Aimsey popping off!!!

Meltdown

“Who’s leading this? “I’m scared to say this, but I think Oli” CALLUM 😭 that is the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard, my goodness

I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve watched meltdown

I don’t know how to commentate meltdown, Al there is to say is that that was insane

Callum last man standing real

This bit is killing me

I’m losing it

Battle Box

“I hate battle box” “HEY, IF YOU GO INTO IT WITH A MINDSET OF HATE YOURE JUST GONNA INDERPERFORM, MAN! OK? YOU HAVE TO GO INTO IT WITH A POSITIVE MINDSET OR ELSE I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” new tiktok audio just dropped, you guys

“Guys I really wanna win 🥺” “Do you? 🤨” the emojis are so necessary, you don’t understand

That round against orange was great

This is not going well lmao

Sky Battle

I believe

Heck yeah

Ran getting three kills!!

I love Ranboo’s skybattles because they never expect anything to go well so when it does he just gets so excited :))

This is exactly how skybattle should look after a round ends, look at that beautiful mess

They’re manifesting that hitw finale so hard, I believe (I also got spoiled but y’know)

Hole in the Wall

I’m just happy to be here, hitw is so fun

Ran top 5, as he should!!

“East, East, f*cking yellow, sorry” “Shut the f*ck up” ah yes, synergy

Everyone yelling at Tommy to shut up when he couldn’t hear them 😂

RAN TOP 5, AS HE SHOULD!!

Oli’s “I’m just- I’m glad you all went with my bit” and Ranboo’s matching the faux emotions: “Of course, man”

“MCC in the 80s was just Scott in his basement playing tetris” there is so much wrong with that statement, including but not limited to A) the 80s were forty years ago, not thirty, B) Scott is neither thirty nor was he alive in the 80s, and C) Tetris was only made in the ‘85 and wasn’t released until ‘87

Dodgebolt

Casually discussing what irl names they think fit Shane better than “Shane” lol

Ayo wait the arena is nonbinary colors :)))

GUMI MY BELOVED <3333

Jimmy!!!! :D

GG, great vibes, great times everyone

#for those following along day of I’m watching the vod even as it’s live because I have a birthday party to go to and don’t want spoilers #just in case you were wondering #mcc 30 #mc championship #nerdy’s mcc reactions #ranboo #oli orionsound #seapeekay #tommyinnit #cw caps

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suzannepetzoldt · 5 years ago

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FOMO.

Have you ever heard of FOMO? The fear of missing out? No? Well, great, you are one of the few lucky ones out there, I guess. But if you have stumbled across that term, read about what it meant and kind of resonated with it: Welcome to my world. We live in a time and society where the more, the merrier, quantity rules over quality, although the opposite is praised but not lived. There are so many options, so many possibilities—we might as well choke on it. Sure, the past generations didn’t have the best times living during war or having to cope with the post-war world, or today, so many people suffer, are hungry, don’t know where to sleep, have no home or security. And I wish it wasn’t so. But that does not mean that our problems, our struggles are less important or should be ignored wholly. No. They are real, folks! Depression levels are rising, more people are mentally ill than EVER and still we think we have it all in the Western world and don’t even know what’s wrong. We know THAT something is not 100% working out for us, but we don’t even bother looking deeper, asking the important questions because we don’t have to, because we have come to terms with the status quo. We don’t care what potential we are wasting away. We can just keep on living with blindfolds on. Enough ranting; back to FOMO. I’ve learned something rather peculiar today. I realized that everything is balanced in this Universe, and by everything, I mean EVERYTHING. You see someone on social media living the dream life? Having made it? Having it all? Look again. Think again. I know, that’s a truism, but sometimes the deeper meaning has to slowly sink in, marinate a bit until it clicks. Having been in the most dark places in some dark times in the past, I now know that these depths allow me to wander heights I could never have imagined because ultimately the depths have to be evened out. Now, what does this has to do with FOMO, you might ask? If you are scared of missing out, you have learned to be scared of NOT having something instead of feeling happy and safe with what you have. Very likely, some authority figure has woven their love into a web of conditions that forced you to abandon your own wishes and needs and made saying „no“ unsafe, as it might have meant to lose a connection your life depended on. If you decline to participate in an action, they’ve taken it personally and hence rejected you. It is inherently impossible not to miss out on something, and every person sits in the same boat here. ANY action you take is a choice to miss out on EVERYTHING ELSE besides that one action, and it is impossible to always do, know, say, have all at the same time. So after taking care of your inner wounded child that still longs for connection and unconditional love, if you struggle with FOMO, love what you do and be 100% present with it. If it is not a „hell yes!“ it is always a „no“. Live life authentically and go for what YOU want, and not what others want or you think you should want—cut the BS, spend time with yourself, get to know yourself, and live your own life, because you can and should, and that is the only thing that works anyway. Don’t be scared to look deep into your wounds and embrace the shadow because, guess what? Everyone has one because everyone walks in the freaking light but usually tends to ignore the baggage they carry around. Have fun and enjoy the world! Sure, it might not be the easiest time right now, but still, this is the time you have been given, and wasting it away with worldly garbage doesn’t really cut it in the end. For real: Be grateful for what you have and where you are in the present moment because, although others might have things you want, you might have what they want. Step out of this vicious cycle of comparison and lack and embrace each other's qualities and uniqueness. Especially your very own.

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automatismoateo · 1 year ago

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Broke up over religion via /r/atheism

Broke up over religion Hey guys, hope y’all are doing well today. Sorry if this is another generic post, but I really have to get this off my chest. Fuck religion. Fuck this garbage. My girlfriend (now ex) gave me an ultimatum: either I have to be okay with her putting God first, or it won’t work out. When I heard this, I completely flipped; shes prioritising a voice in her head over me, a tangible human being (thats right, she says she can talk to God). We broke up over this key difference (among a sea of others) and man I can’t stop thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the more I detest Christianity. She thinks evolution is a hoax. She takes the Bible literally. I asked her why the Bible wasn’t written to be comprehensive enough so that there was no doubt at all. She said, “because sin is pervasive and Man will find a way to sin.” She thinks non-believers will go to hell (so I’m going to hell.) Which I dont know how to feel about, because how can you think that the one you love the most is condemned to an eternity in hell? We argued many times over these things, and it exploded two weeks ago. We’ve been separated since. I’ve been reading through this subreddit and I can’t help but agree with all the comments and posts here. But shes so extreme to the point where she’ll defend or back up her beliefs using “evidence”, like God’s miracles. Which I feel like is complete bullshit. If they survive -> By God’s mercy. If they don’t survive -> He’s in God’s hands now. Can’t help but feel like the subreddit is making me more extreme though. Like I used to be okay with religious people (though I found it tacky), but now I think religion is a plague. I’m a little worried I’m in an echo chamber 😅 If y’all have any words of guidance or comments on how to look at this better, please let me know. I’m quite at a loss here. Submitted September 15, 2023 at 04:11AM by Visible_Champion_421 (From Reddit https://ift.tt/QYFrcwL)

#reddit

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wilwheaton · 3 years ago

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I have more of an opinion question for you. When fans of things hear about misconduct happening on sets/behind-the-scenes are they allowed to still enjoy the thing? Or should it be boycotted completely? Example: I’ve been a major fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer since I was a teenager and it was currently airing. I really nerded out on it and when I lost my Dad at age 16 “The Body” episode had me in such cathartic tears. Now we know about Joss Whedon. I haven’t rewatched a single episode since his behavior came to light. As a fan, do I respectfully have to just box that away? Is it disrespectful of the actors that went through it to knowingly keep watching?

I have been precisely where you are, right now. In fact, we were just talking about this a few days ago, as it relates to a guy who wrote a ton of music that was PROFOUND to me when I was a teenager. He wrote about being lonely and feeling unloved, and all the things I was feeling as a teenager.

He grew up to be a reprehensible bigot, and for years I couldn't listen to one of the most important bands in my life anymore.

But this week, someone pointed out that he was one member of a group that all worked together to make that thing that was so important to me. And the person he was when he wrote those lyrics is not the person he is today. And the person I was when I heard those lyrics doesn't deserve to be shoved into a box and put away, because that guy is a shit.

This is a long way of saying that Joss sure turned out to be garbage. Because of who I my friends are, I know stuff that isn't in the public, and it's pretty horrible. He's just not a good person, and apparently never was a good person.

BUT! Buffy is more than him. It's all the actors and crew who made it. It's all the writers who aren't Joss. Joss is part of it, sure, and some of the episodes he wrote are terrific.

At least one of the episodes he wrote was deeply meaningful to you at a moment in your life when you'd experienced a loss I can only imagine. The person you are now, and the 16 year-old you were who just lost their dad, are more important than the piece of shit Joss Whedon revealed himself to be.

His bad behavior is on him. He has to live with it, and the consequences of it.

16 year-old you, who just lost their dad, shouldn't have to think about what a shit Joss Whedon is for even a second. That kid, and you, deserve to have that place to revisit when you need to go there.

I can't speak for the other actors, even the ones I know. But I will tell you, as an abuse survivor myself who never wanted to be in front of the camera when he was a kid: it's really okay for you to enjoy the work. The work is good and meaningful, and if nobody is going to watch it because of what one piece of shit did two decades ago, what was it all for?

I'm not the pope of chilitown, so take this for what it's worth: I believe that when some piece of art is deeply meaningful to a person, for whatever reason, that art doesn't belong to the person who created it, if it ever did. It belongs to the person who found something meaningful in the art.

If it feels right to you to put it away and never look at it again, that's totally valid. But if it brings you comfort, or joy, or healing, or just warm familiarity to bring it out and spend some time with it, that's totally valid, too.

I've written a lot of words. I hope some of them make sense and are helpful to you.

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mj-ackerman · 2 years ago

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SxF Light Novel: Family Portrait Translation Mission 4: Portrait of the Forger Family!? (Part 3)

<<PART 2. DO NOT REPOST

“Thank you so much for staying with me today for so long. Thanks to all of you, I feel like I’ve embarked on a new path.”

“...... It's nothing, I’m so sorry for all the mess we have caused.”

Felix bowed his head deeply with a black garbage bag in his hand, and Loid responded with a smile so as not to show the tiredness in his face.

The number of people in the park has decreased considerably, and the western sky was completely tinted with madder red. Loid, who was swept by these and other such gestures, was exhausted. Yor herself looked tired, as if she were an empty shell of a person. Anya fell asleep while the picture was being painted, and she is still sleeping comfortably in Loid’s arms. The only one who was in good spirits was Bond.

When Loid apologized for not being able to go as far as coloring the painting, which was almost solely Yor’s fault rather than them entirely, Felix said,

“No, I already have all of your colors in my mind. I’m going home now. I’ll finish the painting at home.”

“Is that so? I’m glad to hear that then.”

Loid replied vaguely, agreeing with Felix's words.

It was a bit disappointing as he thought that the perfectionist artist might have been disappointed with the unfinished painting and will put it in storage.

They parted ways with Felix, who asked them to come back to this place in a week to show them the finished painting, and with that, they headed home.

Loid has lost the energy to go to the supermarket and cook a meal. However, he was also not in the mood to go eat out.

“I’m kind of tired, is it okay to have the dinner delivered?”

“Eh…Oh, yes of course.”

Yor, who was walking next to him with a heavy heart, answered half-heartedly. Loid did his best to lift his wife’s spirit with his cheerful voice as he said,

“How about we have some pizza? I heard from my co-worker that there is a delicious restaurant that opened recently.”

“Eh? Oh, yes. I think it’s good. I was just thinking of eating some…..steak too.”

Hm? What does she mean by that? Does she mean a pizza with steak on it?

He wondered if the new restaurant would have any, but when he asked,

“When you’re tired, meat is the best after all, right?”

The answer that came back was,

“That’s right…when you’re tired sweet food is the best.”

“Erm..shall we get some cake after dinner on our way home?”

“Yes. Anya already fell asleep too, so I think it’s best if we take a bus home.”

“..........”

Their awkward conversation couldn’t match each other.

Above all, Loid was concerned about her eyes that looked like a dead fish.

I guess she really didn’t want her face to be painted huh?

If that was the reason for all those eccentricities, she must be feeling a deep sense of frustration now that it all ended in vain.

Loid stole a glance at Yor, who was walking next to him, and he told his depressed wife in his mind,

“It’s alright, Yor.”

I can’t say this to you out loud, but our painting will never be displayed in an art museum.

This Twilight will never let that happen.

Loid carried Anya in his one hand and walked away with Bond on the lead as he was mentally devising the best course of action. The easiest way to do it at this point would be to pretend to like the finished painting and purchase it at the organization’s expense a week later, but Loid can’t even imagine how much that would cost. More than anything, if Loid, who is nothing more than a mere psychiatrist, were to pay such a large sum of money out of his own pocket, it would be viewed as suspicious.

If that’s the case, there is only one way left, although it'll be a little dangerous.

He breaks into Felix’s house, pretends to be a burglar and steals the finished painting.

Sure enough, that’ll be the most realistic plan. Once that’s decided, all that’s left is to put it into action…..

Good grief, how did this come to this?

Loid never thought that coming to the park with his family would put him in a situation where his life as a spy would be threatened.

Was today a bad day or something?

Lately, the talented spy, who has been unable to do things without his stomach medicine, let out a soft sigh.

------------

“......so, all of the sudden you just made a weird request to check out Felix Curtis’ house huh.”

Franky, a familiar informant at the store front, snorted as if he wasn’t convinced.

“You really do get yourself involved in such weird things a lot.”

“That’s right. What a disaster.”

“I also thought it was another famous painter doing activist work behind the scenes.”

“It would be easier if it was like that.”

Loid chuckled shallowly.

If Felix was a terrorist who wanted to break off diplomatic relations between East and West, and for that purpose he approached “Twilight”, a spy from the West, there would be no other way to deal with the situation. However, Felix was a good painter to the core. And yes, because he was a good person, the situation had come to this.

“Here you go. This is the address you asked for.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Franky gave him a piece of paper with the address of an apartment near the park.

“What about the security system?”

“I’ll be honest with you, his house is full of holes. It's the kind of thing that makes you wonder how someone who is supposed to be super rich could be living in such a rundown apartment.”

Apparently, it was true that most of the profits for his paintings were spent in training future painters.

Loid casually puts the paper into his pocket.

Putting the information fee on the stand as if it were a cigarette free, Loid was about to walk away saying, “See you later then,” but Franky held him back.

“Well, wait.”

“What? Unlike you, I’m a busy person, you know.”

“Stop being so cold. I did a bit of research on him, and I don’t think it’s going to be what you think it’s going to be, maybe?”

As he said that, he flickered another piece of paper.

“What’s this about?”

Frowning, Loid reached for the paper, and Franky lifted it in a heap.

“This will have a separate charge from earlier.”

“Don’t play dirty with me.”

Saying that, Loid quickly took the four folded pieces of paper from Franky’s hand.

“Ah! That’s unfair!!”

“I’ll decide if what I see here is worth paying extra.”

“Who’s playing dirty now?”

Ignoring Franky’s indignation, he looked over the paper. And as he lightly glanced with both eyes,

.......so that’s what it was about?

Loid almost burst into laughter.

“What? That’s disgusting.”

“Nothing. It’s just that you’re right.”

“I told you.”

“Yeah. I should have realized that sooner.”

Loid smiled with a huff and placed an additional fee on the stand. He finally understood why he smelled an oil paint on the head of the painter he met that day in the park.

------------

A week later, Felix, who was waiting for them at the same spot in the park, showed them a portrait of their family, painted with an incredibly original and bold touch. It was far from being as elaborate as a photograph, depending on how you look at it, it looked like a child’s doodle.

“Huh? Is that a potato?”

“No, that is Bond.”

“This one is probably a shrimp.”

“I’m sorry…..that’s actually Loid.”

The good-natured painter shyly informed them that, having worked with watercolors all his life, he was not yet used to working with oil paints. However, he looked very happy and refreshed.

“Thanks to all of you, I was able to enjoy painting from the bottom of my heart. I’m really grateful to all of you.”

Once again, Loid gazes at the painting he had already seen when he broke into Felix’s house. This is the first abstract painting by the artist who had taken the world by storm with his realistic paintings, and was painted at the end of a slump. No one knows how much it will be worth, or whether it will go unappreciated. But at least with this painting, even if it were to be displayed in an art museum, he was certain that it would not be a hindrance for the mission.

------------

“For some reason, I’m feeling kind of hungry. I’ll make dinner tonight, Loid!”

“Huh!? Oh….okay then, go ahead…”

Loid, bewildered, turned his back on Yor, who made a declaration with a smile.

“Well then, let's stop by at the supermarket on our way home.”

Saying so, Yor headed towards the exit of the park with bouncy steps. Her mood had clearly improved after seeing Felix’s painting. Loid was relieved to see a cheerful expression on her face for the first time in a while, since for the past week, she had been so dark and gloomy.

“If there’s anything you want to eat, just tell me.”

Contrary to Yor’s smiling face, Anya, who was clearly not very excited, took the precaution of saying,

“.....I’m not really hungry.”

Loid quickly soothed her as he whispered,

“I’ll buy you whatever sweets you like later.”

It was all for the sake of a harmonious family. All for the sake of the mission.

“You know that Yor’s cooking skills are getting better day by day, right? It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be the food taster then, Papa.”

“I think I’d prefer to have beef…or maybe, shall we buy a whole duck? Some salted pork too….”

She was thinking about tonight’s menu while humming. At that, Loid chuckled.

Even if Felix’s style hadn’t changed so drastically, I would have stolen it and that would have been the end of it.

Well, there was no way that Yor would know about that, and he really felt sorry for her for the past week.

Maybe I should ask her out on a date again? No, but I don’t want her to kick me in the jaw again, so maybe we’ll just go out to eat something delicious together as a family.

While thinking about such things, he let out a sigh of relief, at any rate, this series of turmoil had been successfully resolved safely.

“Nevertheless, that painting was really indescribable…”

Aside from the potato-like Bond, Loid, for example, was even mistaken for shrimp by Anya. But on the other hand, he also thought that there was something in that painting that was not there when Felix was painting those beautiful photograph-like paintings. However, even Loid doesn’t know what it was.

At that, Anya suddenly announced,

“I like that painting.”

With a childlike undeservedness, she added,

“It looked terrible, but I like the warmness of it.”

“..........”

And all of the sudden, Loid felt like she understood something that he didn’t understand. A precious something that was not found in the elaborate, photographic-like paintings that made a full use of wonderful skills. Felix probably had a smile on his face because he was able to find it.

As Loid recalled the painter’s happy smile in his mind, he heard Yor said, “Hehehe, it really was a wonderful painting,” agreeing with Anya.

“It makes me very happy to think that we were so happy in his eyes….”

She smiled shyly as she said that, and Loid smiled at her and said,

“..... You're right.”

There was really nothing more to it. He only agreed to it for the sake of this temporary family’s peace. It was Loid Forger, the entity created for this mission, who agreed to the word’s of his family, not Twilight himself. However, that feeling was delivered with a calmness that surprised even himself. Just like the blue sky today….

“I think it was a very good painting, too.”

Such words flowed naturally, and Bond barked a “Borf!” as if to agree.

Anya laughed as she said,

“Bond said he likes it too.”

Seeing her daughter like that, Yor smiled softly.

Under the blue sky, there was a smile on Loid’s cheeks that wasn’t just a fake smile.

#spy x family #spy x family light novel: family portrait #loid forger #anya forger #yor forger #bond forger #forger family #twiyor #felix curtis #please do not repost

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 3 years ago

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Imagine: You’re getting bullied at school and your mom’s not happy about that, to say the least. (Yandere!Mom!Wanda Maximoff x Child!Reader)

*Not my GIF.

(CW: Bullying, torture, sorta xenophobia, catatonia mentions)

Author’s Note: So it seems that the Yandere Mom Wanda fic’s getting popular, but since that potentially contains MoM spoilers, I’ve decided to make something that’s spoiler-free.

It’s lunchtime at your school.

You open your lunchbox to find the lunch your mom packed; a sandwich cut into the shape of a heart, grapes, carrot sticks, and two walnut cookies, a recipe your mom had gotten from a friend who used to live in Sokovia. On top of that is your mom’s daily note;

“Sweet (y/n)

Make the most of today and do your best.

I love you to the ends of the earth and back.

❤️ Mommy”

You smile; the notes are always your favorite part of her lunches. You unpack your lunch and start to eat. About ten minutes later....

“Hey, everyone! It’s Count/Countess Dorkula!”

You wince as you hear the voice of Kylie Harkness, your bully. She and her crew strut up to you and surround you from behind.

“Ooh, what’s this?” Kylie asks, snatching up your mom’s note.

“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim.

Two of her friends pin your hands back as she reads it.

“Aww, how cute,” she spits. “You’re still mommy’s little baby. Did she also pack a binkie with your lunch?”

Her friends laugh at you as another takes your cookies.

“What the heck are these? They look weird.”

She takes one out and takes a bite before spitting them out.

“Eww! It’s probably some garbage from wherever you came from.”

“Hey! That’s not nice!” you snap, the Sokovian accent you’ve heard your mom use lacing your voice. “At least my mom cares enough to make me lunch.”

“That’s because I’m a big kid and pack my own lunch, while you can’t even go the whole day without crying. You’re a pathetic freak and you always will be, just like your mom.”

They laugh at you and your anger surges. Your head tilts as if on impulse and you feel your hands glow.

“You take that back, you heartless hag!” you snap at her in Sokovian.

You kick the girls holding you back in the legs and you slam a hex bolt to Kylie’s face. She goes flying into the wall, and you’re stunned at what you did.

“You can make fun of me all you like,” you tell her in English. “But I will not have you talking about my mom like tha--!”

You’re interrupted by one of the girls pushing you to the ground. Next thing you know, you feel a sticky sensation on you as she pours her lunch on you as does the other girl before they dump your own lunch on you. They cackle as the lunch bell rings.

“Like I said.” Kylie limps over to you as she rips up the note, and your heart, right in front of you. “Pathetic freak.”

They turn and walk away, leaving you on the cafeteria floor.

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

You hide in the school bathroom for the rest of the day, sniffling. They’ve been doing this every single day and you’ve never told your mom; she never seemed to figure out because the bullying hadn’t been physical until today and you just kept quiet about it. But this is the first time they insulted both your mom and the country she came from.

You go home on the bus, and walk from your stop to find your mom waiting for you. She gasps when she sees you.

“Sweetie! What happened? Are you okay?”

Your lips quiver and you start crying.

“Oh, honey.” She hugs you in spite of the mess, which you couldn’t fully get rid of.

“These girls have been bullying me at school...” you start.

You tell her everything that’s been happening. All the while, Wanda is steaming with anger, not at you, but at the girls who’ve been bullying you. How dare they treat her little angel like that! Who do they think they are?! This won’t do....this just won’t do....

You finish telling her.

“I’m scared to go back to school, mom. I don’t wanna have to face them. Can I stay here with you instead please?”

As tempted as she is to let you, she knows she can’t do that forever.

“Not forever, but how about you stay home tomorrow to take a mental health day? I’ll have a talk with the teachers.”

You nod and go wash yourself off. The whole time, Wanda is plotting. They dare to mess with you? No....that’s not gonna slide. She’s proud of you for standing up for yourself, but they still managed to take you down and abuse you....

And now, her mind is working at top speed....

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

That night after Wanda tucks you into bed and snuggles with you, and after you’ve fallen fast asleep, she sneaks out of bed to go take out the trash.

She manages to find each of the girls’ houses and sneak inside. First she deals with the parents, putting them in deep fear projections to the point of permanent catatonia. Then it’s onto the girls, placing them in the same states. The intensity is enough to make them lose all trace of who they were. But in her mind, they deserve it for messing with her sweet little angel. After that she covers up any trace of her ever being there before continuing until all of them have been....taken care of.

The next day, you spend your time with your mom, baking, watching sitcoms together, doing crafts, whatever your precious little heart desires. You fall asleep happily that night and this time, Wanda’s managed to locate the school staff. She sneaks in and erases their memories of the girls and their parents to further cover her tracks.

The following day, your mom packs a teddy bear for you in case the bullying gets worse and tells you that if it ever happens again, she’ll make sure the staff listen. When you get to school, you discover that Kylie and her friends aren’t there. You keep looking each day, but are surprised to find they’re not there anymore. When you talk to the teacher, she tells you no students by the names of your bullies go there or have ever gone there. You’re not sure what happened, but you’re not getting bullied, so you don’t complain. You wonder if some sort of mysterious force is watching over you now.

Well, there is, except it’s only mysterious to you. You can thank your mother for taking care of those bullies. She’s always happy to make sure you’re safe, going to great lengths to assure it, even if it means she needs to mess with a few minds.

Because no one messes with her little angel.

Ever.

#yandere mom wanda maximoff #child!reader #child reader #yandere mom wanda maximoff x child!reader #avengers yandere #marvel yandere #wanda maximoff

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one ✘ two ✘ three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,�� you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs. “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

3K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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the-bjd-community-confess · 2 years ago

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I get that MSC is great and all for professional faceup artists and stuff, but that stuff can literally kill you and it’s very hard to get and expensive a lot of the time and in order to not get super sick from using it you have to use expensive respiratory equipment that has to be regularly replaced and the weather has to be *just right* to use it or else it doesn’t work and you waste it.

I don’t get why it’s the first thing people recommend to beginner customizers. And then after that people always recommend air brush sealant, but air brushes are expensive and can be hard to use and learn and they still can be hazardous to you.

Brush on sealants work and they work surprisingly well. I’ve used liquitex matte varnish for years (and I’ve heard other people recommend others, but I’ve never seen a reason to switch) for all kinds of art even in my professional work, so when I got into doll customizing and I saw a video where someone painted their bjds using liquitex and a sponge to get enough tooth for pastels and stuff I tried that first before even considering buying MSC and a fancy mask for it and it works great! If you want to get into selling faceup services I would probably recommend looking into MSC because it can be a bit more consistent, but if you’re just enjoying the hobby for you, try liquitex and a makeup sponge first. Takes a few tries to learn to make sure dust doesn’t get caught in it, but it doesn’t need to be done with a mask or outside and the layers dry in like 2-5min if applied right. It removes with alcohol and a magic eraser but otherwise is very durable unless you expose it to high humidity before it can fully dry (takes like 24hrs maybe more if there’s not good airflow and then it’ll be rock hard). It holds pastels great even cheap ones and it’s very inexpensive. The only thing I can’t speak to is how good it is for watercolor pencils because I hate them so I don’t use them for my faceups, but I have used them in the past and they worked mine just weren’t very pigmented but the layer had to be really dry.

I’ve been painting all my dolls for years now and the faces look really nice in pictures. In person they have a bit of a skin texture, but I like that. I even body blushed a doll with liquitex matte varnish recently and I didn’t have to apply it everywhere so I didn’t have to take the doll apart or anything and the application is very smooth and I haven’t noticed any peeling around the joints yet. It protects really well against staining as I’ve only had one doll stain and it was vinyl and I was careless and didn’t apply evenly around the eyes and the crease of the lips because it was one of my earlier faceups, so there were some stains in the crevices, but that’s user error not the product.

I just hate seeing everyone always recommend something that’s so dangerous and hard to use for people who just want to have fun painting their own dolls when there are real alternatives and if you don’t like using a brush on sealant they’re like at most $14 a bottle and they can be used for so many other projects so it’s not really a waste and all you need is a paintbrush or a cheap bag of makeup sponges. It also dissolves really well in (high percentage) alcohol if you don’t rinse a brush or something in time, so you don’t have to soak them in acetone or anything hazardous and hard to dispose of.

Slightly tangential side note because I’ve seen people do this -> if you are using acetone for whatever reason or other solvents please please pleeease don’t pour them down a sink or in a toilet when you’re done. Not only is it bad for the sewer system and stuff, but most pipes today are PVC and things like acetone can dissolve the piping when the liquid stalls. Dispose of them in a sealed container and put it in the garbage. I hope that everyone already knows this, but if not, now you do.

But yeah, try a brush on sealant with a sponge or recommend that method to a newbie looking to learn how to paint a face. It’s easy to get and use and clean up and it’s not hazardous to your health.

Sorry this is long, but that’s my PSA

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #Faceup Materials #Faceups.#Safety

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

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Vicious

Part II

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1891.

Part I

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

P.S. To avoid any confusion, I changed the name Savages -> Vicious.

________________________

The next day you spent doubting your own decisions. Was it really wise to leave everything to Steve? How could he find those students all by himself and deal with your problem? Could he really stop them from acting like that? You thought once again it would be so much easier to ask for a transfer, but you had already given him your word to meet him today at 5. It would be very inappropriate not to come when he was trying to help you.

When the time came, you were sneaking in the student council room as if you were some petty thief. You were afraid people would start talking: if everybody knew who stole your things, they would understand you came to Steve for help like a little girl. It was embarrassing - even in a situation like this. Besides, somebody could be following you since at 5 pm the academy was almost empty.

By the time you reached the right door, you heart was beating as if you had just run a marathon. You really, really hoped Steve found some solution, and you wouldn’t have to be humiliated by the student advisor for wanting to leave the school.

Opening the door, you saw a couple of students on the sofa and quickly stepped away, afraid the student council was still having a meeting, “Ugh, sorry!”

“Come in, please,” Steve said calmly behind the door, and you shyly got in again, watching four other guys staring at you with interest. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“What, they too?” You were so perplexed by his words you forgot your manners, speaking of others as if they weren’t in the same room. “I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know you were involved.”

Wait, were they the ones who stole your things? Did Steve bring them here for you?

“No need to be so nervous.” One of them, a guy with long, jet black hair forming waves around his shoulders told you, motioning you to come closer and sit in one of the chairs opposing the sofa where he sat. “We’re here to help you.”

You remembered his name was Loki. A mathematic genius, he was considered one of the top students of the academy.

“That’s right! Come, come!” Seeing Peter among others was surprising, but his smiling face made you calm down a little, and you smiled at him in return.

No, they weren’t those guys who stole your underwear, for sure. Apparently, Steve asked them to join you because they knew something and could give you a hand in finding those bastards.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Feeling a little self-conscious among five different men you'd barely known, you landed on one of the chairs and saw that the other two were Bucky and a captain of the academy’s basketball team, Thor. “Did you find out anything?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a loud sigh, “I know exactly who they are. I can hand them over to the school’s officials and get them expelled by tomorrow, but that’s not the real issue here.”

You felt the chills ran up your back. What did he mean by the real issue?

“Is there something else?”

When you saw Loki smirking at you, you suddenly realized you were among five strong men in the student council room on the fifth floor where most classrooms were already empty. If you screamed, nobody would even hear you.

“Stop it.” Bucky’s angry voice cut through the silence, and you saw him literally burning a hole in Loki’s face. “Don’t make her scared, freak.”

Obviously, he wanted to say something offensive to Barnes in return, but Steve silenced them both with his icy glare. Loki sent him an innocent smile while Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes in irritation. It felt like they were in the middle of some school play, and you bit down on your lower lip, having a feeling something was going horribly wrong.

“The thing is, even if we got those ones expelled, it probably won’t stop the others from doing something similar.” Steve leaned up against a desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “I feel terrible admitting it, but many of our students are completely wild. I’m afraid they might keep harassing you.”

“Oh.”

You averted your eyes, realizing your attempts to find a solution were futile. Obviously, Steve could do nothing - he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, ready to protect you day and night from those delinquents who followed you everywhere. As you thought before, the one thing that could help here was leaving the school for good.

Shit, you didn’t know how to explain it to your family, Even your friends thought it was too bizarre to be true and laughed at your worries, saying you probably lost your things yourself. You would have to find a better excuse for a transfer in the middle of the semester.

“Well, anyway, thank you for trying,” you nodded and smiled apologetically at him as if it were your fault, “tomorrow I will talk to the student advisor about my transfer. Sorry for the trouble!”

“I don’t think it’s real to get transferred by now. It’s passed all the deadlines.” Shaking his head, Bucky raised his voice, and you felt suffocating.

Apparently, you would really have to skip a whole year of school. Explaining everything to your family, looking for some garbage job to have enough money to rent a room and pay your bills... Fantastic.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ve found another way.”

Immediately, you raised your head, your pupils dilating.

“You see, the reason they are doing that is because you have no one to protect you. They know the administration won’t take it seriously because they’re a bunch of old misogynists, and you also have no means of protecting yourself. It would be better if you started dating someone, someone strong enough to make these guys back down.”

Steve looked deadly serious for someone saying such nonsense. A boyfriend? Now? Was he for real? Did he think you'd be using someone like your personal shield? Besides, even if you chose the strongest guy at school, it didn’t mean he would be stronger if several people attacked him.

But when you shared your thoughts with Steve, you saw others smiling at you as if they knew you would say that, and you felt uneasy.

“That’s true. That’s why you need more than one boyfriend.”

“What do you mean? How can somebody have more than one boyfriend?" Puzzled, you stared at him wide-eyed as if he said something stupid.

What on Earth did he mean by that? Were you to have your own squad of bodyguards at all times while you were in the academy? This was so foolish you couldn't believe someone like Steve said it out loud.

But then you caught glances of five men in the room and forgot how to breathe for a second. They weren't serious, were they? Steve didn't assemble all these guys here to make them into your boyfriends. It was preposterous even thinking of that, right?

Right?

"Please tell me it's not what I think it is." You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as if trying to protect yourself.

"Why are you being so nervous?" Baring his teeth, Loki smiled at you. "Some other girl would be happy if five men were to be her boyfriends."

"It's a joke, right? You're all joking."

You hoped to see any of them laughing and nodding their heads, saying they simply wanted to cheer you up, but all you saw was a guilty expression on the faces of Bucky and Thor and the excitement of others. They really gathered here to offer you this.

"All of us here," Steve looked upon others, becoming a little displeased when his gaze fell upon smiling Peter, "are perfectly capable of helping you. If each of us were to accompany you one day a week, others won't be so brave. I'm sure they will no longer be a nuisance to you if they know what we can do to them."

There was something very dark in the way Steve said that, and for a couple of seconds you weren't sure whether you have to be more scared of him rather than those who was stealing your things.

"But it would be very uncomfortable for everyone, wouldn't it? I mean, going with me everywhere, not using your own time as you'd like. And, well, surely, others will see that we won't act like a real couple, so they might still keep harassing me. I don't think it would work."

Apparently, Loki was bored with this talk, you thought as you heard him clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Then don't pretend. Act like a real girlfriend. Kiss in public, hug, go to the cinema together, what else girls do?"

"Wait, you mean, with ALL of you?"

"Yeah? Do you think anyone gonna be against it?"

You very much hoped they would be. Being followed by someone like your bodyguard was one thing, but having a real boyfriend was very different. Did they really want to pretend to be lovey-dovey with you? Act like you were close to them?

Oh. Of course, they would. They belonged to the same kind of touch-starved barbaric men they were trying to protect you from. They would do all those things to you, too.

You realized you were crying only when Peter flew off his seat in a hurry and squatted down beside you, taking your shaking hands in warm his.

"Please, don't cry. Nobody's gonna force you into doing anything, I promise. You will only do things you're comfortable with, ok?" Handing you his pearly white handkerchief, he smiled to comfort you. "No one of us gonna say anything."

"And if she starts dating one of us for real? What's then?" It was Loki again, cocking his head to the side and obviously provoking Peter to yell at him.

"We'll be ok with that, too."

The silence felt heavy. As you opened your eyes, Peter's handkerchief in your hands, you realized it was Thor who spoke for the first time, and the way he looked at you softly made you feel a little better. Despite the fact you knew little of him, for some reason, it felt like you would be safe with him - certainly safer than with Loki.

"Naturally, if any of us will bring you discomfort or do something unacceptable, you need to let us all know, and we'll decide what to do with that person." Raising his voice, the head of the student council made everyone to turn their head to him. "We will be meeting here, in this room, if anything happens. Each of us will give you our phone numbers. We will also make a schedule who accompanies you every day of the week."

It seemed he no longer asked for your opinion if you even wanted it to happen.

__________

"Bucky will be with you on Mondays, Loki on Tuesdays. Wednesdays are Thor's, on Thursdays Peter will be following you, and on Fridays it will be me going with you. Of course, if you need any of us to watch over you on weekends, feel free to contact whoever of us you like more."

Part III

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegarden

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark thor #dark loki #dark peter parker #yandere

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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