#dealing with the fact that you let it in. you blame yourself for being so foolish
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cutter-kirby · 4 months ago
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one of my favorite things to come out of the book of bill is all of the bill possessing ford content. like both in canon and in fanworks. bipper did something irrevocable to me back in 2014 but ciphord/bord is such a unique clusterfuck of possession horror and it haunts me.
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kavehater · 7 months ago
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I honestly wish people cared more about depression and other issues rather than saying they care but scrutinise a person so horribly when they show symptoms associated with said condition 🧎‍♀️
#everyone’s so horrible about it#if you don’t know what something means you research#I research when my friend says they have an illness or a particular sexuality I may not know about#or just to understand and help out because that’s what friends do right ?#so research if someone tells you they have a condition and learn the symptoms#don’t like it ? leave.#but don’t stick around if you’re not in the slightest tolerant to any speck of symptom they may exhibit#whoever does this is a horrible person#because you signed up for this so you deal with it. it’s so mean to punish someone for something they can’t control#because ppl aren’t nearly as kind to people who are normal as they are to mentally ill people#aren’t nearly as mean to normal ppl*#yeah sure they still have to control themselves etc but you never say this to normal people#you’re never so harsh to normal people if anything those with mental illness need more kindness and understanding and everyone blows it#how are you gonna sit there with full conviction saying I have depression and anxiety ( I have way more than that but okay )#yet blame me when I can’t commit to my work or blame me for being “lazy” I think as a perfectionist and star student I beat myself up over#that already so why would you hurt me more#alternatively this applies to ppl who get mad at others asking reassurance#im gonna rip my hair out for that why literally why would you have a problem#it’s always communicate this communicate that but in fact everyone’s allergic to communication and they’re not traumatised by it#ZERO EXCUSES BUT SOMEHOW all the excuses for normal people but none for mentally ill ppl#everyone’s sick. this is what I mean when. I say it’s so aggravating seeing people because they’re so hopelessly stupid#in the sense they don’t have an ounce of compassion and are disgustingly selfish thinking of themselves 24/7 and their feelings when not to#compare but ppl have it worse than your dumb ass paper cut - esque issues 😇#oh but all the sympathy to you and none to the “crazy people” who actually need more compassion than you be so Fr#and if you cope well with your own issues then good 4 u ! but you’re not the standard of the DSM 🤗 you also aren’t any better#everyone copes differently and expresses things differently dependent on their unique exposures circumstances and view of the world#let’s stop pretending that one view is the right view#this doesn’t mean let yourself get abused btw it means using that thing in your head to be reasonable#dora daily
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blkkizzat · 1 month ago
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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟹........... THE CULT LEADER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series
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visitor log: you shouldn't have even been watching the gate bunny, that's much too hard for you! so when you inevitably fuck up, your cult leader boyfriend—geto suguru—has the perfect punishment planned for you and your pretty pussy wait..in front of his entire congregation tho!? classifications: dumb bimbo!reader, canonverse of nerd!geto's bunny!reader, cult rhetoric, dark themes, sensory deprivation/amaurophilia, punishment, humiliation, shibari, edging, overstim, exhibitionism, toxic jealousy, possessiveness, yandere Suguru, drugged sex, cnc/free-use reader, mentions of orgies/group sex and a bit of forced breeding. incidents: 5.8k
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“Nuh-uh, nope you gotta be a fake!”
Suguru sighed, irritation brewing beneath his calm exterior. If he didn’t convince you he was the real deal soon, he’d be late to his weekly midnight mass—a gathering of his most devoted (and wealthiest) followers he couldn’t afford to miss.
Be that as it may, he still tries to be patient with you—his Bunny. 
Ever since the doppelgängers started appearing, you’ve been a bundle of nerves, and Suguru knows you’re spiraling right now—he’s had to talk you down more times than he can count over the past few weeks. You’ve been worrying nonstop about something happening to him, Mimiko, or Nanako, even though they all possess far more cursed energy than you.
If anything, it’s you who should be worried about yourself.
Holding the barrier around the entire compound is already draining your very limited cursed energy, and it’s taking a visible toll—your fatigue evident in your wavering stance as well as the sweat beading on your brow.
Suguru, noticing this, shows a bit more patience—especially since he returned a day earlier than expected and, most conveniently, no one else is around to witness him being made a fool. Something that would be more likely now that his following had grown significantly during this doppelgänger-induced quarantine, demanding more of his attention by the day. 
“Come now, Bunny, let’s rationali—”
“Nope! No way! you can’t trick me! Besides, if you were the real Suguru, you could just break the barrier by now! I’m not stupid like you, ya dumb doppel!”
Not stupid?
Suguru would hate to have to tell you the truth to your face and upset his pretty lil’ bunny but, you were in fact, pretty ditzy—his current predicament a testament to that. Pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, Suguru is almost at his limit with you.
But he couldn’t just break the barrier himself. 
Of course, ability not being an issue—he could easily do it. The problem is at this hour, breaking the barrier would trigger alarms throughout the compound, both cursed and physical, throwing cursed users and followers alike into a frenzy. 
It simply wasn’t worth the trouble.
Shaking his head, Suguru tries a different tactic with you. 
“Bunny, please—just go fetch Nanako and Mimiko. Bring them here to sort this out, alright? Can you manage that for me?”
A contemplative expression appears on your face, as if you were seriously mulling over the ramifications of his very simple request—a reaction he knew didn’t bode well for him.
“Hmm… nah!”
Frustrated, the cracks in Suguru’s patience with you begin to show. 
“And just why the hell not, Bunny?”
Surguru’s grits his teeth, brow twitching, attempting to maintain his cool as you look at him like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“They’re already in bed! They still have school tomorrow—even if it's virtual! I’m not waking them up just so they can see a doppel version of you! It might scare them.”
Rolling his eyes, Suguru blames himself really.
Since joining his cause you’ve spent more time bent over his desk, the plush round curves of your backside glistening with his cum that is painted liberally across your skin, than you’ve spent looking him in the face. 
But his weakness of being partial to the bounce back jiggle of your fat ass was now thoroughly biting him on his own—especially as you insist the problem is that his ear gauges are too big. Something Suguru couldn’t even be too upset about as after all, he had gone up a size recently, so you weren’t exactly wrong. 
Still, he hadn’t expected you of all people to be perceptive enough to notice, so he now regrettably never bothered mentioning it.
Suguru knew he’d have to come up with another way to convince you. At the same time, he vowed to kill whoever had been slacking on their job and put you at the gate. Tasks like these weren’t suited for you—though, to be fair, most tasks weren’t.
That’s why other than his personal fleshlight, when your sinful lil’ pussy wasn’t getting private spiritual guidance from his cock, you spent your time behind the front desk of reception. The perfect decorative bait for the followers flocking to his temple for refuge from the doppel crisis. Your beauty along with your bright cheery demeanor did just the trick to lure in those distraught and perverted monkeys into his cult, whose wallets he could exploit until they were no longer of use to him. 
Suguru takes out his phone, calling the twins himself but neither Nanako nor Mimiko answer. He considers calling someone else—literally anyone—but he knows they’re all gathered in the main hall by now, without their phones, as most electronics are strictly forbidden outside the dormitories.
As a last-ditch effort, Suguru scrolls through his texts to show you the lewd photo you sent him earlier that same day—the racy upskirt of you with 2 of your manicured fingers wedged into your tight sloppy cunt while stationed at the front desk accompanied by the ‘miss u daddy’ text.
“Oh woooow! Dopplegangers can clone iclouds too!? Y’all are really good!”
Oh for the love of… 
At his wits end, Suguru thinks he might actually have to whip his dick out in the middle of the courtyard—your slutty ass would surely recognize that if nothing else.
Yet saving him the indignity, suddenly, a bright camera flash materializes behind you catching both of your attention. 
“Nanako, this isn’t our room!”
Nanako and Mimiko?!
“Shhh—Shut it! Do you know how hard it was to get inside the barrier, at all?! Urgh I feel queasy now…Plus, I can’t concentrate because my feet hurt so bad from these heels. There was nowhere to sit in that club! Let’s just get back to our rooms before Geto-sama notices we—”
Yet realizing their predicament sooner, Mimiko’s eyes nearly pop out of her skull as she rapidly taps Nanako’s shoulder, who whirls around to see a now-visibly pissed off Suguru. 
“—Oh shii—Geto-sama…?”
Not only did he have to deal with his airheaded Bunny failing to recognize him, but also with two teenagers under his care sneaking out to god knows where, to do god knows what, with god knows whom.
All during a doppelgänger crisis.
Both were dressed in outfits far too revealing and mature for them, outfits Suguru figured they must have pilfered from your closet—since he would never have bought them anything like that in a million years, even if they were old enough to wear it. But Suguru would have to wait until tomorrow morning to have a good stern talk with them—right now he needs their help lest you leave him out here all night. 
“Girls, please. I am in need of your assistance. Don’t fret, neither of you are the one that’s in trouble right now.”
Suguru’s piercing glare startles you, his oppressing cursed energy sending familiar tingles down your spine and for the first time that night you begin to wonder if you had actually messed up. 
Oh yes, Bunny, you had fucked up—big time.
Failing to recognize him and letting the twins sneak out under your nose was a serious mistake and you need to be corrected.
Thankfully, Cult Leader Suguru knows exactly how to punish you and in a way that would further his own purposes too.
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩
Lounging casually and only dressed in a thin white kosode, his priest robes discarded, Suguru gazes out at the sea of his gathered followers.
His irritation mounting as he awaits your arrival.
What could possibly be delaying you?
He had given strict orders for you to change and meet him in the main hall, where he intended to deliver your punishment.
Punishments from Suguru weren’t something you were unfamiliar with. He often finds himself frustrated with you and in need to relieve his tension, using your snug lil pussy as he sees fit. 
But the urges the bubbling anxiety he felt at the moment to lock you away, keeping you hidden where no one else could ever lay eyes on you, wasn’t about punishment.
No, the crux of it being, at his core, Suguru was a fiercely jealous man.
He wanted you all to himself, tucked in a delicate, untouchable box, far from the gaze of a world unworthy of what belongs to him.
But Suguru keeps that possessiveness well-hidden, just like all his other flaws.
Geto Suguru, the cult leader, always radiated an air of calm benevolence, a true messiah in their eyes. It earned him their unwavering devotion, even though they knew of his cruelty his followers justified it every time—convincing themselves that any punishment he inflicted was well deserved.
This rationalization, along with his suppression of personal desires, all stemmed from the unwavering commitment to his utilitarian views of the Jujutsu world.
Suguru knows he must set aside his own wants for the greater good of his cause. He had already made the ultimate sacrifices when he killed his parents and excommunicated himself from the rest—including the only other person to have ever known the true him—and he had no intention of stopping now.
That’s right, it was all for his cause and his cause is the sole reason a vehemently covetous man like Geto Suguru is about to fuck you in front of his entire congregation.
The heavy doors of the large meeting hall ceremoniously reopen and you are brought before him blindfolded and dressed in a similar matching kosode.
The wispy fabric only lightly touches your skin, offering little protection from the drafty air that seeps through as you are guided up the steps to the stage.
Yet little do you know the blindfold is completely unnecessary. 
No one else in the packed auditorium wears one, but Suguru self-indulges in this one thing with the reasoning that— ‘If you couldn’t trust your eyes to recognize him, then he will have to train your body to recognize his voice and touch alone.’ 
Once you’re placed in your designated position—on a smaller altar set upon the elevated stage—your retainers swiftly retreat, leaving you standing alone.
Facing Suguru, with your side turned toward the audience, you feel the weight of their lecherous stares even if you can’t see them. 
It was a peculiar yet thrilling feeling—losing your sight, yet knowing so many eyes were on you. 
Watching, waiting, and lusting over your body that only Suguru is permitted to touch. The notion alone is enough to make your body shiver harder than any chill would cause. 
Seeing you try to contain your nerves, Suguru regards you with interest as your small hands tug at the sides of your robe and you try your hardest to steady your breathing. At this point you were willing to do whatever it took to set right your earlier transgressions with Suguru.
You felt absolutely terrible for not recognizing him, on top of allowing Nanako and Mimiko to sneak out right under your nose! You were just thankful at the opportunity for forgiveness.
Although Suguru already knows you are too infatuated with him to deny him anything, especially when it comes to taking dick, anytime or any place he asked you to. Suguru, is throughly pleased with your obedience as he needed your cooperation for this licentious stunt.
Though Suguru finds the more debased aspects of cult culture crude, he knows they serve a vital purpose: ensuring total indoctrination.
With the rapid expansion of his following, fear-mongering and promises of salvation were no longer enough to maintain control.
Initially, the cult attracted outcasts and those on society's fringes. But as the poison of fear spread throughout Tokyo, married couples and families alike sought refuge from the new threat—doppelgängers visible even to those without cursed energy.
His inner circle of cursed users agreed—control was now more crucial than ever. Not just physical or emotional control, but dominance over every detail of his followers’ lives.
Suguru needed to dictate how they thought, what they ate, when they bathed, and how long they slept—every aspect of their pathetic existence. He intended to shape their perception of themselves in the new world he was building, so much so that they wouldn’t dare take a breath without first considering if it pleased ‘Geto-sama’ (it never would, though he tolerated it for the time being).
Now, the final step remains.
With the power he wielded as their omnipotent savior, Suguru couldn’t allow their vows to each other to interfere with their vows to serve him.
And what better way to weaken these bonds than through unadulterated hedonism?
Like the tenacity of Japanese knotweed, once the seeds of adultery were scattered, their venomous vines could not be contained. They would tear through the toughest stone as they would the supposed everlasting promise of martial vows and in turn shred them—making their relationships as fragile as wet paper.
And to do that, Suguru needed you—the object of lust for nearly every virile male monkey in his cult to spur them into a depravity.
Nevertheless, in this showcase of debauchery you would be the only one allowed to touch him—and regardless of any bullshit he feeds his followers, words dripping with a faux sugary coating of ��sharing oneself wholly with your community’ to tempt his followers into the highest betrayal—he is the only one allowed to touch you.
Finally rising from his post Suguru approaches as you slowly begin to unravel, your senses fraying bit by bit as they are caught between both the fear and the eagerness of finally being touched by Suguru after he’d been gone three whole days.
However, despite your efforts to remain still you are nevertheless startle, not having sensed his presence behind you, when Suguru’s powerful hands rest on your shoulders, both reassuring you and securing you in place. 
Your breath quickens along with the dampening between your legs. Leaking, your arousal begins to secrete onto your thick inner thighs that are dutifully pressed together underneath your paper-thin garment.
One of his followers swiftly sets a cushion before your feet then disappears again as Suguru’s grip tightens and he lowers you, his precious little Bunny, onto your knees.
Anticipation surges through your veins and settles right into the fiery pit of need stirring in your core when you feel him kneel behind you. 
Even blindfolded, Suguru’s hulking presence has you feeling so small in front of him.  
“Let us begin.”
You feel yourself rattle from his voice booming over you while simultaneously Suguru’ swiftly pulls the ties on your robe loose with ease—snatching the garment away and exposing the sides of your naked body to his mass of followers.
Hushed whispers of the congregation immediately erupt, sending tingles racing across your flesh. You can’t help but moan untouched as an unfamiliar heat simmers in your bones. 
Sure, you were getting plenty turned on from being watched—not knowing how many of the familiar faces you greeted daily were now leering at you…but this felt like something…different. 
“Tsk.”
Suguru chides, surveying your body and noticing you as your chubby little clit, already swollen with need, eagerly peeking out from your folds to greet his congregation. 
With a slight smirk Suguru reaches from behind you to deliver a loud reprimanding smack to your pussy. Chastising your cunt’s lack of decorum in front of his followers, the slick moisture of your folds echoes throughout the silence.
Swallowing down your whimpers, you’re left panting, your tongue already out and your saliva falling upon the altar as you felt like you could have cum from just that single smack alone—something was definitely wrong.
If Suguru notices your sudden distress or hypersensitivity, he says nothing. 
Yet his hands never leave you as they begin to roam your body with more urgency, squeezing and kneading—breasts, hips, ass—the drag of his cool palms and blunt nails across your curves leaves scorching arousal sizzling in your very bones. The feelings only intensify tenfold when the sensations of silk begin to twist across your skin. 
Skillfully, Suguru weaves the braided ropes around your form leaving you dizzy, the pull and tightening against your flesh felt like the ropes themselves were alive.
Was this—shibari??
“Not to worry—” Suguru authoritatively pronounces when he hears rising murmurs of the masses, “—the restraints are only for the lovely maiden here, so the pleasure of being taken by a God doesn’t completely overwhelm and destroy her.”
Your brow furrows slightly, puzzled until you hear his husky voice coo heavy against your temple, finally cluing you in.
“Not that your slutty mouth isn’t loud enough already Bunny, but we have to make sure to really sell it. The tea’s effects shouldn’t last too long.”
Your breath hitches in a slight panic remembering the sickly-sweet tea one of the handlers told you to drink before entering the hall. Suguru attempts to console you as one of his hands finds its way to your neck constricting it with a gentle but firm pressure as he nibbles slowly up from your jawline.
“Be my brave lil’ Bun now, hm?”
You mewl softly, nodding as you feel completely overtaken by whatever drug he’d secretly given you. 
Ultimately though as long as it was Suguru, you’d never deny him anything.
Suguru presses a chaste kiss behind your ear as a reward for your compliance.
Continuing his shibari handiwork, Suguru’s low hums vibrate through you from your nape down as he continues to restrain you with the smooth ropes. 
"Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree. Criss-cross the tree, trying to catch me..." 
The dragonfly harness tie he’s putting you in requires bunny ear knots, the irony of your situation not lost on him and considering your nickname—Suguru changes the rest of the rhyme to tease you further as he coos:
“Bunny girl, bunny girl, fucked into my pole—leaking my cum from out the inside, beautiful and bold.”
Given the go ahead to be loud, you don’t restrain the sob rips from your throat this time as tears slip through your blindfold down your cheeks. You felt like you might die soon if he didn’t fuck you as the need racing through you taunted your every nerve.
But Suguru wouldn’t be rushed and takes his time finishing off your restraints with bight knots, the result Suguru deems is that you tie up beautifully in red shibari contrasting against the color of your skin. 
Although tempted, Suguru never used shibari on you before. Yet the way your soft skin bulged against the ropes digging into the flesh of your doughy body made his cock twitch violently—he’d be doing this again.
You whine when you feel Suguru rise up. You fear him leaving you bound and bare but his hand rests on the top of your head as if to silence your concerns, letting you know he was still near. 
Not that you thought he had gone far as you swear you can smell his very arousal filling the air. 
You weren’t wrong either.
Suguru had since moved to stand in front of you now and the evidence of his own heated erection becomes apparent when his milky beads slowly splat onto your face. Droplets rolling past the tip of your nose, your tongue eagerly darts out to savor his seed.
Moaning like a slut just from the taste of him, your visible hot breath openly salivating, your mouth so eager and ready to be used by him, makes Suguru throb harder. Your chest heaves, tilting forward for more as the restraints pinning your arms behind your back forces you into the most perfect little arch. 
Not being able to deny his lil Bunny her carrot any longer, Suguru taps the tip of his weepy length on your tongue. 
“Wider.”
And you comply.
The cavern of your mouth expanding to showcase ropy webs of spittle. Suguru’s meaty length breaks through them easily though as he slides over your quivering tongue hitting deep into the back of your throat. He’s thick, enormously so and tears sting your eyes under the blindfold as you passively let him use you.
That is, until you hear the command—
“Suck.”
Sighing with relief your mouth encloses the best it can, jaw relaxed yet strained to accommodate his size. You bob down further before rising up to suckle at his tip.
Humming with approval, Suguru is pleased that your restrained arms don’t stop you from being the cock-hungry slut he knows you to be.
True to form, although you cannot stroke him, you still lick him just as nasty—resting the shaft of his heavy cock on your chin while you tongue up the strong vein on the underside.
Completely, uncaring for the mess he leaks all over your face, you continue unhindered as your blindfold and cheeks are soiled in streaks of white. 
A ripple of hushed awe sweeps through the crowd, some who couldn’t resist stroking themselves as they watched with envy. Suguru casts an annoyed glance at them before returning his focus to you.
Filthy ingrates.
Grinding his teeth, Suguru has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his congregation’s shameless lust over you. Even if you were a perfect slut, the human embodiment of a succubus, they still didn’t deserve to lay eyes on you—let alone stroke themselves filthy to you.
One day he would punish them all for it too. 
Rip out their eyes and summon the Rainbow Dragon curse to devour them all in one fell swoop—but unfortunately not today.
Suguru’s rising agitation makes his cock more impatient, the laps from your teasing whore tongue wasn’t enough. Hastily, Suguru grips the back of your neck, snapping his hips forward to thrust into your mouth fully without warning.
Your eyes shoot open, yet again are met with darkness—still blindfolded. Your breath constricts as he plunges himself into until he feels your nose press into the soft pubes at the base of his pubic bone. 
Allowing you to adjust momentarily, Suguru wipes away some of the tears and pre caking your cheekbones. His gentle caress travels down your face to wrap firmly around your throat that is bulging full of him.
“Good girl, Bunny, just relax.”
His whispered praises stir up the desperate ache in your pussy and you reflexively relax as Suguru weaves his hands around your hair. Fucking himself down your gullet, Suguru throws his head back.
Suguru’s cock had trained your throat well and like usual, it obediently opened for his use, your narrow tunnel of wet heat forming to the very shape of him.
But while your throat was subservient to him, your pussy was not. 
The effects of the tea in full force your cunt coveted the assault your mouth receives. The lust building in your core was maddening.
Fraught with need to relieve any of the tortuous thrum between your legs, cries vibrate through your windpipes restricting tighter around his engorged length causing Suguru to hiss, his own hips stuttering as he almost prematurely releases. 
Curious, Suguru’s eyes pry open to see your sloppy pussy soiling a large spot of moisture onto the cushion—somehow the pillow had shamelessly found its way between your plush thighs for you to hump down on. 
Pulling himself from your mouth with a pop, your voice croaks as you gasp for air but you’re immediately left pouting at the loss of him.
“Waste not the seed of God.”
Your throat is more than willing to have him back inside regardless of the wild fever fluttering in your pussy.
“Now, now—none of that, not when your greedy lil’ cunt can’t bare my cock to go in any other hole but her.” 
Harshly breathing out admonishments for your sluttiness against your neck, Suguru is behind you again, turning your body this time to face the crowd.
Shaking, small tremors of anticipation flowing through you but Suguru doesn’t make you wait long. 
His large hands take their fill of your curves as he snakes them across your body, one hand coming to rest over your womb while the other cupped your cunt. His dexterous middle finger rubbing slow agonizing circles on your puffy clit causing you to sob out.
The amount of slick pouring from you makes it easy for Suguru to manipulate his hand further into your folds, already drenched up to his forearm just from merely swiping his fingers through your sodden lips.
Suguru’s adam's apple bobs as he ruts his hard and weepy erection against the crack of your ass when your greedy walls unabashedly swallow up his long middle finger like it was his cock.
“Only one finger in this immodest lil’ hole and you are ready to cum for me?’ 
Another rapturous cry slips from you as Suguru digs another finger into your core, spreading your legs and granting him deeper access. Your squelching pussy getting finger popped is lewdly on display for the entire hall. 
Your other senses working overtime as Suguru cores out your insides, pushing into your g-spot and steady towards your release. The hand clutching onto your belly now fondles your spongy bud and you throw your head back against his shoulder. 
So close—So close…. Fuckk!
“Hold it.”
His authoritative words command your body to halt soon as you feel yourself about to tumble over your delicious peak. Suguru rips any relief from the insatiable burning in your guts away from you.
“MMMM-FUHHHH, No, no no! Pleasepleaseplease mmmm—Geto-sama! N-Need you!”
You know you should be silent. 
You know it’s almost certain he will punish you further.
But any punishment seems insignificant to the fact you feel you might actually die from need if you don’t get his fat cock inside of you soon, your heart feels like it might seize from distress.
Suguru goes still, his firm grip still on your body as his hands pull taunt on the shibari ropes draped across you, quieting your snivels.
Your fears are somewhat assuaged when you hear him chuckle huskily in amusement.
“Hmm—Shall I bless you?”
The question was spoken aloud, yet it is clearly rhetorical. 
Like you Suguru’s followers also knew to stay silent, yet cries of—“bless her!”, “bless her!”, “make her squirt!”, “stretch her out!”—ring from the congregation. Your cheeks burn with mortification as you had momentarily forgot just how many people are watching you get toyed with.
Yet you’d have Suguru broadcast this nationally if it meant you finally got to feel his cock inside you—anything to keep your insides from further liquifying, your pussy melting slowly in a puddle of its own desperation.
Suguru hums in approval.
Seeing you in this pathetic state for him overcomes any displeasure he feels from the hoard of monkeys chattering out of turn
As a result, Suguru shows you his mercy, waiting no time slotting his leaky cock between your cushy thighs. The bulb of his tip catches against your clitoral hood with every thrust of his girth parting your dewy folds. If it weren’t for his steady hold on the braided ties keeping you upright you surely would have collapsed forward from the toe-curling sensation.
The increased heat from the aphrodisiac drug had his length messing up your pretty pussy before it even got inside you. Your head luls back onto his shoulder as he continues fucking your thighs, unable to hold its weight up any longer.
Yet Suguru won’t allow you to tap out so early.
“No slacking, Bunny.”
Is the only warning you got before Suguru bullies the entire length himself into your tight lil cunt. Your pussy already so pliant from the light teasing and drugs gives him free access to reach your womb all in one go. 
The screech that strains from your abused vocals causes the tension in the room to awash with a heady lust as Suguru’s followers can no longer hold back from touching those around them.
Disgusting monkeys.
Surguru growls to himself but ultimately his plan is working maybe a little too well. He had ensured the tea was brewed for each in attendance as well, all had been delivered a cup before having left their rooms—yet still, the thought of them being so aroused over you sparks a deeper hatred for them in his soul. 
Fucking away what few remaining thoughts, if any, you have in your head, Suguru bucks into you with a faster force. It’s unfair of him, but he cannot control himself from taking out his anger on you. Recklessly Suguru’s hips slam into you in retaliation for being the seductive siren you are, enticing his congregation to disobey him—and most offensive, trapping someone as steadfast as him to covet someone as simple-minded as you. 
Sloshing claps echo from your bodies colliding to encompass the vast room almost as loudly as your moans squeak out, begging him to let you cum—to fill you. 
Your pussy is desperate for his absolution and it’s shown in the creamy rings of sap you drown his cock with.
You were his. 
Suguru would make sure no one here would be able to glance upon you again without remembering how well you slut out only for him.
Pulling the crimson ropes taunt enough to leave marks in your skin Suguru doesn’t realize for how long and just how much force his cock has been plowing into your messy pulsing cunt until he feels the tremors of your violent release rake through your body, snapping him out of his sadistic daydreams of murdering every monkey in the compound as your milky release streams down your soft legs to sully the floor beneath you. 
Sweat jewels across his own brow and Suguru knows he has to finish you for good soon, his concentration could only last so long before your soaked cunny would even prove to weaken even a God such as himself.
Suguru’s his hands crawl in serpentine trails across your middle edging lower until they are strumming impatiently over your clit once more, rubbing you near raw with pleasure.
Who knows how many times you’ve already cum around his cock? 
Truthfully, Suguru doesn’t think you actually stopped since the first time. 
However when he feels you start to limp, fading in his hold his heady voice is in your ear again, lightly nibbling your lobe as he encourages your consciousness to last just a bit longer.
“Show them how well you can take me, Bunny.”
“How you are the only one who won't break before me.” 
His firm grip clutching your jaw, Suguru pulls your face back to him.
“Remember, you are the only one suited to be their god’s obedient little plaything—my greedy lil’ cockwhore.”
Your voice barely above a whisper, you croak out to him urgently.
“S-Sugu…k-kissth me!”
Noting how your mouth is lax, drool glistening in its corners—Suguru doesn’t need to see your eyes to know how utterly fucked-out you are in this moment.
Completely lost in ecstasy, you easily forget yourself calling him by a nickname only you are privy to inside his bedroom. 
However, thankfully for your sake, no one else had heard it. The crowd of bodies too fervently occupied in their own debased copulation.
Yet still, your insolence of calling him anything other than ‘Geto-sama’ in public earns you a pinch so acute on your clit, that you see white even in the darkness of your blindfold.
Garbled cries spill forth as surges of rapturous electricity shock your every pore and in an instant Suguru’s fingers dive into your mouth. Not wanting you to injure yourself, Suguru permits you to bite down on them in lieu of own tongue as you convulse against his body.
The feral bite to his digits as if you’d rip the very flesh off him is only rivaled by your tight pretty pussy clam clamping down on Suguru’s cock enough to push him over the edge as well. Not even having the chance to pull out, your cunt bends Suguru to her will, forcing him to paint your walls white—your womb is a sponge that greedily absorbs his holy essence, squeezing him for every last drop.
The lock you have on him is so intense that Suguru feels his mask of calm begin to slip and he bites his inner cheek bloody lest a feeble moan slip out of him. Suguru always maintains a semblance of composure or he’d be no better than the orgy of primates beneath him. 
Releasing you, slowly you fall forward out of his grasp. Your face meets the cool floor but there's no pain from the impact, at least not enough to overpower the pleasurable spams still buzzing through your core or the dull aching of your neglected nipples now rubbing against the polished hardwood. 
The drug isn’t even close to being out of your system yet and you are wiggling your ass for more. Your delayed consciousness lags before whimper in the realization of your hollowed empty core.
“S-Su-Su—”
Your body is near destroyed but you were still horny as fuck. 
Suguru is quick to hush you, his hands running along the curves of your ass, massaging them. Gently plucking at your shibari knots, Suguru admires how they branded into your flesh. Continuing, his hands skate across your moist skin before pulling your cheeks apart to gaze at  his seed plugging your hole.
He hadn’t meant to cum inside you yet the way your cunt quivers, gaping open as it ejects loads of his cum to splatter onto the floor, he scolds himself for not doing so previously.
“Keep it in.”
Effectively corking your cunt closed, keen loudly as Suguru twists two fingers inside of you.
By now, his followers are fully in their own heat, a pile of withering bodies as pure hedonism had erupted in the auditorium.
No one notices as Suguru’s attendants bring out fresh robes as he hurriedly loosens your knots enough to carry you out, readying himself and you to make a hasty exit. Suguru would surely hurry if the stretch of the monkeys debauched copulation can reached his nostrils.
He'd rather continue your ‘punishment’ in private anyway. Fucking you in front of his congregation and showcasing you as his cocksleeve was not enough of a claim to calm his jealousy.
No, Suguru needed to have claim to you fully.
It’s in that moment Suguru mentally adds one final requirement to your penance—you’d bear him an heir.
A few in fact.
He’d have the perfect excuse to keep you hidden away too—for your protection of course.
You mewl as Suguru gathers up your limp half-conscious form and presses you to himself so possessively it hurts. Yet your mind is still gone, lost in lust as you’re still babbling nonsensical pleas for him to fuck you.
“Hush now, Bunny, my most devout follower, Geto-sama is here to take care of it all. I’ll bless you with my seed and keep you tied to the bed on your back until your belly swells full with my heirs.”
......RESULT: FAILED. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗—𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.
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that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation) a/n: this was way longer than i wanted it to be, was originally gonna cut it off before he actually fucked reader but decided to follow through since I owe y'all geto girlies some p in v djsdkjshk (nerd!geto p2 after kinktober i swear!)
comment and reblog! next up either Nanami or Choso—any preference? lmk! (both just need last bits of smut written/final review, they are actually 2 of my fav stories so excited to post them!)
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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caramelkoo · 2 months ago
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be still my heart — jjk [one]
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the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.
genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst
word count : 5.2k
chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.
a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3
read part two here
˚୨୧⋆。˚
“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.
You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 
You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 
“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  
You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 
“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 
That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.
And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.
Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.
Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 
“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.
“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 
“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”
That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.
“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”
Knock, knock
“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.
You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.
You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”
He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.
“What do you think it is for?”
You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”
You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.
The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.
Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.
“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.
“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.
Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"
You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 
“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”
You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”
“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 
Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.
“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 
James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.
You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.
So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.
“What did he say?” 
You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 
“Typical” 
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Jungkook 
There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 
“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 
He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.
“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.
Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.
“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 
He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 
Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 
Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 
“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.
He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 
She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.
“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.
He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 
“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 
He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.
He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.
The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.
The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.
Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.
“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.
He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 
Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.
The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can’t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 
“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”
Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 
“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 
Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 
“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 
He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 
“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 
He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.
“Keep your voice down, will you?” 
Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 
He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 
He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.
“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.
He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 
He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”
“Jungkook, please join me inside” 
Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.
He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.
She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”
He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.
“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”
Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.
He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”
Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.
She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”
“What are you talking about?”
She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”
He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing”
He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”
She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.
Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,
"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"
He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.
His jaw clenches. "What else?"
Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”
“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”
“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.
He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”
She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.
“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”
He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.
Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.
But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.
Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.
He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”
Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”
The room falls silent.
“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”
“Sure” and with that he walks away.
She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?
“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”
She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.
“You can go”
Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.
There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.
Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.
He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.
Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Destiny
Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.
You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.
Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.
Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,
“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”
“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”
“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”
You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.
Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.
After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.
One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.
A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.
“Coming”
The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.
“Oh my god wait I’m coming”
The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”
She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.
“Hey bestie”
You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”
Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.
“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,
“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”
You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.
“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.
She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”
“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”
Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.
She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”
“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.
She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”
You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”
Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.
“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.
“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.
“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.
You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”
You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 
“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 
You gasp. 
“Such a good girl” he praises.
The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 
He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 
“Tell me” 
You nod. 
“I need your words, Destiny” 
You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 
He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 
“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 
“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 
He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 
Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 
“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”
Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 
Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”
You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 
“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 
Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.
You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.
Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.
Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 
I’m so fucked. You think.
tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw
2K notes · View notes
giannaln4 · 2 months ago
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I'm Sorry
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)
warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending
a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!
ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.
The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 
Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.
He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.
Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.
He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.
“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”
“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 
That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“
“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”
To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”
“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”
You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 
He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 
As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.
You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.
A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 
Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 
Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.
“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 
The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 
Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 
That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.
“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”
That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 
He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 
“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 
You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 
“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 
“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.
“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”
After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”
“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”
“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”
“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.
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not-neverland06 · 3 months ago
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Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!
mistake
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
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a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.
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No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 
It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 
Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 
You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 
Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 
You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 
As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 
After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 
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“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 
Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 
You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 
“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 
He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”
He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 
The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 
You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.
“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 
You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”
“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 
“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 
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You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.
Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 
You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.
You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 
You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 
You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 
You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 
You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”
His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 
“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 
“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 
But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”
“Kid, don’t do this-”
“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 
His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 
“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 
“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”
You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 
Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 
Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.
The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 
Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 
You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 
But what do you do?
You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 
You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 
It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 
“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”
You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”
He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”
You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 
You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 
“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 
You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”
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You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 
Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 
As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 
He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 
You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 
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Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 
It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 
You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 
Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 
You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 
It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 
He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 
He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 
The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 
You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 
But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 
In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 
You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 
He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.
He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 
You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 
He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 
It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 
But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 
This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 
He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 
You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 
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You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 
But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 
He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 
But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 
You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.
You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 
You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 
Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 
“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 
He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 
It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 
“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 
He’s going to leave.
You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 
“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”
He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 
It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 
He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”
“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 
And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 
There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?
“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 
“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 
“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 
“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 
He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 
You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 
When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 
You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  
@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 
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just-aake · 8 months ago
Text
Detecting Love
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.
Warnings: fluff, light angst
Words: 6169
You have the power to detect lies. 
Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 
Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.
People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.
And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 
Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.
Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.
There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.
There was no cheating.
There was no fighting.
It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.
That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.
It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.
These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.
Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.
You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 
It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 
And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 
You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.
At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.
With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.
Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 
Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.
She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.
“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.
She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.
She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”
Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.
The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.
“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”
Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 
“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.
At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.
Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.
However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 
A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.
There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.
Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.
“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”
You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.
Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 
Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.
Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.
Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.
Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.
A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.
“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.
Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 
You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.
Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.
Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 
“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.
At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.
“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.
Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.
“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”
Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.
“You’re lying.”
Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 
The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.
“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 
At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.
However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 
Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 
As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 
When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.
The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 
What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.
Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.
“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”
She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.
“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”
After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 
Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.
You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.
“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.
She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”
“How did you…?”
She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 
Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.
Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 
After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.
“I told you yesterday,” she replies.
You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.
“Remind me again.”
Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 
“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”
Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”
“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”
Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.
So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 
“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”
A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.
You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.
But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.
“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 
“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.
Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 
“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 
“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”
Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.
If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.
Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.
“Fine, what do you know?” 
Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 
Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.
As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.
“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.
“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.
Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”
“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.
Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 
The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.
“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 
The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 
If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.
After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.
“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”
Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 
“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”
“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.
“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”
From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.
However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 
Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”
Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.
“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 
You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”
“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”
“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”
Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.
You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 
For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.
After a moment, you break the silence this time.
“So, what’s the job?” 
Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.
“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”
“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 
“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”
At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.
“That’s confidential.”
You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.
“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”
Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.
“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”
“People like you?” 
“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”
You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.
“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”
A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.
Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.
“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”
At her words, you pause to consider your options. 
A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 
Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.
Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 
You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.
At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 
“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”
“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.
A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.
You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.
“Liar.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”
You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 
Still, the impact has you stumbling back.
“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”
A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 
You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.
Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 
At least you used to.
This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.
With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.
You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.
You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.
“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.
Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.
“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.
“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”
Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.
“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.
“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.
It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.
Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.
Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.
Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.
You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.
Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 
After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.
However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.
Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.
But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.
With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.
Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.
“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.
Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.
Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.
“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."
Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.
“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.
“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”
Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.
Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”
“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.
Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”
You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.
She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.
“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”
You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.
But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.
“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”
You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.
“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”
You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“What’s this?”
Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.
She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.
Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.
“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”
Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.
Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 
As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.
You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.
Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 
“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 
Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.
After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.
Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.
“No, of course not,” you tell her.
As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.
After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.
“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.
Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.
“Of course, I will.”
Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.
After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.
A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.
A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.
To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 
“I’m in love with her…”
Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.
“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.
Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.
She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”
You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.
“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”
Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.
Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.
“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”
There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.
“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”
You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.
A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.
“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.
You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”
“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”
She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”
Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 
“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”
She swats your hand away.
“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”
A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.
“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.
“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.
Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.
“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.
Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.
Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 
A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 
With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.
"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"
The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.
Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.
However, now comes the final question of the interview.
“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”
Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 
Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.
“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”
After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."
Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.
"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.
As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.
With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.
“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.
Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.
You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”
Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.
“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.
“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.
Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.
“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.
Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."
"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.
Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.
"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.
Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.
“Name?” you begin.
Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.
“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.
“Natalie,” you mock.
Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.
Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.
“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.
“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.
“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”
This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."
As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.
By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.
"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.
Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.
“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.
After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.
“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.
“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”
Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.
“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.
Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.
Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.
“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.
You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.
“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.
“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.
Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.
Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.
Summoning your courage, you face her directly.
“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.
“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”
There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.
Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“No,” her voice responds to your question.
Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.
As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.
I’ll pick you up tonight. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 2
a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.
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salemlunaa · 10 days ago
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TOUGH REMINDER: BEING A BABY WONT GET YOU ANYWHERE 💋🤷‍♀️
some of you need to stfu with this whining bullshit!!
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There is a single fact that if you have not induced pure consciousness by now it is your fault. You can change that in seconds of course and no one is mad at you because at the end of the day it’s your life, but when push comes to shove its you who needs to put the work in (not when it comes to inducing the void because that is effortless, but in general when it comes to discipline and staying focused) it’s you who needs to lock in. It’s you who needs to identify the problems you’re having and deal with it, or you will get no where, no one is here to hold your hand.
You can keep crying at your big age like some innocent baby. “but it just doesn’t work for” “how dare you say people are lazy when it’s not our fault” “it’s not my fault i fall asleep” bla bla bla you might as well suck your thumb while your at it. And when it hits 2030 you can be in the community preaching that’s it’s “still not your fault”, go ahead!! Sure call me horrible for this but if you’re still here it’s your own fault, because when people come into my asks my dms my comments and tell me that my posts are too harsh and that it’s “not their fault”, I ask them “who’s is it then?” and crickets…
And if you’re sitting here bitter I want you to ask yourself, who’s fault it that you’re still here, who’s fault is it that you still fall asleep, and do you know what fine maybe you try so hard to stay awake but can’t, but let me ask you, who gets affected by that? who gets affected by the fact that you’ve wasted so many years here because you “fall asleep”, because it doesn’t affect me.. it’s you, it’s you who will never progress talking to the wall about how it still somehow isn’t your fault…
The way some of you will read my posts which are meant to be motivational, and helpful all the way through and still try and absolve yourself from the blame is so embarrassing, but it will be you who reaps the consequences of this attitude. My posts apply to EVERYONE, you are not a baby who is exempt from criticism and from tough love, you can continue to be hard headed and tell yourself it’s not your fault that your still here. Sure that will help you sleep at night but it won’t help you get your dream life.
From now on I will be deleting demotivating comments, my account is about helping others, not coddling some babies who can’t live with the fact that it is their job to get their dream life, if you want that look elsewhere, but I will not have yall get into people’s heads, there are people who are ready to accept the fact that they control their reality and there are people who are ready to lock in, i will not have yall ruin that. I will not accept comments dms and asks, trying to avoid blame.
Neville does say “do not blame, only resolve” but at what point does it become enough. Circumstances are hard and of all people i would know, but at what point do you start taking accountability knowing that your thoughts create your reality and knowing that if you locked in you would have everything already.
there is no such thing as “this doesn’t apply to everyone”, you aren’t exempt from the facts of the law, ever, and you can delude yourself into thinking so and i hope those thoughts keep you company within all the unsuccessful years to come
GET TF UP AND STOP WHINING, YOU CAN DO THIS!!
last time i checked, bitter and pressed aren’t apart of the ingredients for the manifestation recipe 💋
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sserpente · 8 months ago
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After
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Synopsis: You help Astarion wash off the blood after he kills Cazador. He doesn’t say much—but you can tell he needs you now more than ever.
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A/N: I thought of this the other day and I almost cried. So I wrote it so that you can almost cry as well.
Words: 897
Warnings: trauma responses, fluff
Astarion was being unusually quiet, his movements robotic and too automatic as if he was somewhere else entirely in his mind. And he was. You couldn’t blame him. He had his own demons to deal with after what you had just witnessed.
His hand was still clutching the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. But not even the blood stains on his bare skin could manage to disfigure him. He was as beautiful as ever despite the streams of tears drying on his cheeks.
You’d wrapped your cloak around him after he announced he wanted to get out of there, eager to respect his wish. There was nothing left for him here. It was over. Now all he had to do was to heal, slowly, from the trauma the past two hundred years had caused him.
Both Shadowheart and Gale had offered to help calm him down with magic but Astarion had been quick to decline. It was dark outside by the time you left the palace—a welcome circumstance. Though it was not uncommon for citizens to roam the city drenched in blood every now and then, you were certain Astarion was grateful for the absence of curious and suspicious looks as you made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern.
It wasn’t just Cazador’s death of course. He’d turned it all down. The ability to walk in the sun, the powers Ascension would have granted him… Now he’d return to the shadows. But he wouldn’t do it alone, that you were going to make sure of. He had you.
He was still silent by the time you returned to your room upstairs. Whoever had decided to stay behind today—Lae’zel, Wyll, Jaheira, Halsin and Minsc—their eyes all went wide the moment they laid their eyes on the blood-drenched vampire spawn.
The questions were burning on their tongues, you could tell. But they held back. You cleared your throat.
“Would you guys mind… leaving us for a bit? Join the others downstairs for a drink maybe?”
“Understood,” Jaheira said. She waved her hand and nodded, compassion glistening in her wise eyes. “Take your time.”
“Astarion…” Minsc pushed Jaheira out of the way, earning him a groan. “Is… is Cazador dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead, Minsc,” you answered for him. Jaheira grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her before he could say something else. Wyll, Lae’zel and Halsin followed suit.
“Let me know if you need anything,” the latter announced. A few heartbeats later, you were alone.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Your voice was barely a whisper but Astarion heard you nonetheless. He nodded and finally allowed you to peel the dagger from his grasp. You set it aside on a table and lead him to the washtub in the corner of the room.
The cloak slipped from his shoulders, sailing to the wooden floor. He made no move to pick it up, no move to help you as you filled the tub with warm water. In fact, you weren’t sure he even saw you do it. But when you moved away to get him a fresh towel for later, you heard him.
“Don’t leave,” he said softly. Your eyes darted back to him, taking in the vulnerability and helplessness surrounding him like cold mist.
“I won’t. Ever. I was just gonna get you a towel.”
“Don’t leave,” he repeated.
The chest with your things was just around the corner, still, you opted against it. You forced the corners of your lips up and nodded, returning back to his side.
He didn’t protest when you removed his bloodied trousers and had him step out of them, didn’t resist when you made him climb into the tub and eventually, undressed yourself and reached for a sponge and soap before joining him.
Silence filled the room, water dripping as you dunked the sponge in. His sigh the moment it touched his cool skin was heartbreaking.
Inch by inch, you washed off the blood, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest and his face every now and then. Once you were done and the very last traces of Cazador had vanished, you cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look you in the eye.
“Are you gonna be okay?”
Astarion nodded. “I just need…time.” To process. To decompress, to let everything that happened today sink in.
You nodded. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Astarion. I am so proud of you. What you did today…that was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. You didn’t have to do it and it wouldn’t have made you any less brave if you hadn’t faced him. But you did. I love you. And I will do anything in my power to help you through this, whatever you might need.”
The vampire smiled—it was a weak smile, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But it was sincere nonetheless.
“Thank you, my love. Thank you.”
You remained in the bath until the water was cold. After tiptoeing over to the clothing chest naked to finally retrieve the towels to dry off, you cuddled up in bed together, your limbs entangled and his face pressed against your neck. His breath evened surprisingly fast as he slipped into trance and you too closed your eyes, holding on to him tightly until you were certain he had found peace for tonight.
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hana-no-seiiki · 8 months ago
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this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.
(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader
— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant
Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.
You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.
Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.
The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.
So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.
By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things
(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.
(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.
The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.
You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.
Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.
You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.
You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.
The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.
But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.
“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”
Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.
And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.
The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.
You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.
“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”
And (3)
They would kill to be that man.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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Can you do angst of ford x reader, where reader was Fords assistant and instead of Stanley pushing ford in, reader does while being possessed by bill.
Stanley is still there and they work hard to repair the portal but when Ford does get back he's really upset at reader because he still thinks that they themselves pushed him in and betrayed him. Ford won't let reader explain themselves, he just tells them to "get out his house"
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Part 2 is right here
You didn’t want this.
Then again you weren’t the one to push him, Bill was after tricking you into making a deal with him. You should’ve known better than to put any amount of trust in that chaotic dream demon.
You screamed and shouted for either Ford or Stanley to notice the weirdness in your behaviour, the weirdly inhuman smile that spread across your face, anything as you were forced to watch yourself shove Ford into the portal.
‘BILL!’ You screamed but the demon possessing you acted as though he couldn’t hear you as he relinquished control of your body and let you back in it, just so that the last thing you saw of your dear friend was the look of betrayal upon his face as he disappeared into the portal forever.
‘FORD! No! IM SORRY! IM SO SORRY! IT WASNT ME!’ But Ford couldn’t hear you. He was gone thanks to bill you and you knew they no one would ever believe if you were to tell anyone that a demon did the deed. All they saw was what looked like you but not you in any other aspect that counted; However the fact that you were seen doing the crime was enough to fuel their biases against you regardless, fuelled but their needed to be right in everything, and it was difficult to change a persons mind once it’s made up.
‘It wasn’t me…’ you softly murmured to yourself as you collapsed on the floor of the laboratory as a seething Stanley stood behind you.
‘You pushed my brother.’ He snarled. ‘I saw you.’
You only stayed silent, it was better the beer the brunt of the blame then look like a madman trying to plead as to why they wasn’t true, and besides he wouldn’t believe you even if you did manage to make Bill confess before an audience that he had been the one to push Ford while possessed as you. The demonic bastard was far gone now, cackling at the ridicule you were receiving for his actions.
Stanley, not liking that you were silent, pulled you to face him by the collar of your shirt but before he could berate you further, he caught sight of your defeated face and tear stricken cheeks. ‘Go on, blame me because you would be believe me if I were to tell the truth.’ You said with a voice void of emotion. ‘Blame me all you want but I’m the only person who can help you get the portal up and running again. I’m willing to do so but not for you, but for Ford and in hopes of explaining myself to him and pray that he believes me.’ You add and without warning Stanley drops you on your arse and says in a voice equally devoid of emotion;
‘He’ll never believe you, he’s not that stupid.’
And after that interaction you and Stanley spent the next thirty years of your lives together rebuilding the portal, while Stan still blamed you for pushing his brother into the portal, he’s become more lenient as and when he would remind you of the reason you were doing this in the first place; more specifically during arguments after failed test runs of getting the portal open where he’d say to you in the best of the moment:
‘If it wasn’t for you my brother would still be here!’ Before storming upstairs while you remained in the lab, wasting away the midnight oil because you didn’t believe you deserved sleep after all that. You had grown numb to being Stan’s verbal punching bag, and would often times ignore his attempts to forget what happened and make peace with you, for you knew it wasn’t genuine because after you get his brother back you were more then likely to be kicked out of the shack for you had served your purpose for your crime.
So the relationship between yourself and Stan was never good and you tended to only act civil in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, two kids whom you have grown rather fond of during their stay. You remembered the first night they came here and were in high debate on whether they should stay with Stan or leave, you were quick to intervene and said;
‘Your Grunkle Stan is a wonderful man with a big heart despite his rough exterior. So please give him a chance instead of letting first impressions sway your thinking, you’ll be surprised as a result if you do and besides life is meant to be lived without regrets.’
You were literally the reason they decided to give Stan a chance and stay, but you knew you were never going to get that thank you from him, you were the person who pushed his brother into the portal remember? So you just carried on building the portal with him in awkward silence until the day finally came.
The day that Ford came home.
The day should’ve made you happy, ecstatic even but you knew that wouldn’t be the case for you as the moment Ford came out of the portal your blood ran cold.
He was glaring.
He was glaring at you with such a silent rage that you swore that you could’ve been killed by a state like that. But it was also a stare that told you of the damage your betrayal had caused him, he would never forgive you and that was your biggest fear this entire time, a fear that Stan knew and now it was proven true.
‘Ford-‘
‘Stop.’ He told you, breaking your heart. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuse.’
‘But-‘ you tried again.
‘I said no!’ Ford roared as everyone held their breath, even Stanley who had never heard his brother shout, in that moment he actually felt some remorse for you, some.
‘You’re the reason I was trapped in that portal for THRITY YEARS!’ Dipper and Mabel gasped as they too were now looking at you with hurt in their eyes, which made tears appear in the corner of your own.
‘Is it true Grunkle/graunt y/n?’ Mabel asked as dipper glared at you while keeping his sister as far away from you as he could.
‘No Mabel I-‘ you tried to take a step towards her but Ford was quick to cut you off and level you with a glare. ‘Stay away from my grand niece and nephew.’ He growled and you knew there was no point looking back at Stanley, who had kept uncharacteristically quite this entire time.
‘It’s wasn’t me-‘
‘Then who was it who pushed me then y/n?’ Ford asked.
You remained as silent as the day you let Stanley accused you of the same thing. There was no point in making your case when everyone’s minds have been made up, you were the monster in their story and now they were going to be rid of you once and for all.
‘Who?’ Ford asked again as he seethed, his eyes searching your dead ones for answers that have been in his mind for the past thirty years. You were his friend, he thought he could trust you but he guessed wrong, and now he couldn’t look you in the eyes without seeing the very person who shoved him in the portal with a sicken smile across their face.
Ford couldn’t trust you in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, no one was safe with you as far as he was concerned and he wanted to keep his family safe, even if it meant being rid of you once and for all.
When you didn’t say anything to save yourself, Ford points upwards. ‘Get out of my house, I don’t want to see you ever again. You’ve already done enough damage to this family as there is.’
You didn’t have the energy nor fight left in you to scream, shout or anything, you just swallowed the lump in your throat and moved out of the lab as Mabel and Stanley looked at you sympathetically; whereas Ford and dipper only glared at your retreating back.
‘Grunkle/ graunt y/n?’ Mabel called out to you weakly. You only shot her a small smile and mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ She was always your favourite twin but it was time to say good bye and without another word, you pulled off the bracelet that Mable had made for you and threw it on the floor in front of her.
Mabel looked at the bracelet, then back up at you. ‘I made this for you.’ She tells you with tears in her eyes.
‘You deserve better than to put your trust in me my sweet shooting star, I’m a monster in your grunkles eyes,’ you shot a look towards Stan and Ford who were still staring before looking back at Mable, ‘It’s best that you start seeing me that way too because I only cause pain apparently to some.’ You replied and with that you left the shack and the pines family behind, venturing off into the pathway through the woods with nothing but a hole where you here should’ve been.
There was no point fighting your case to Ford, he wasn’t going to hear it, for he was no batter than everyone else and he just pointed the finger at you without second thought. So much for him being unique when he was just like the rest of them, so much like the rest of them that you find it almost laughable.
You’ll gladly stay out of his life, for whatever Stanford pines wished for, you’ll happily oblige as you were only ever the assistant that betrayed him in the end; a traitor.
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ch-4-eri · 7 months ago
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Use Me — Jill Valentine.
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jill X fem! reader.
warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).
word count: 2.6k
you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.
jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, stealing glances at jill every now and then.
she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.
but your ovulation week had other ideas.
you were an aching horny mess.
tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.
as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.
your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”
jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.
she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.
“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.
“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.
you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”
“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.
“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”
“i’m sleeping.”
“you’re awake now.”
as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.
one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.
you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.
“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.
“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.
she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.
“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.
“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.
“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.
jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.
you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled your clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.
her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.
but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.
jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.
“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.
“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.
“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.
“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.
she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.
the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.
jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.
she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.
you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.
she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.
“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.
“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.
“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.
“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.
jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.
but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.
“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.
“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.
you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.
“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.
you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.
jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.
“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.
“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.
jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.
she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.
“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”
“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.
as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.
she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.
“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.
“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.
“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.
“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”
jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.
you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.
“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.
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mirohlayo · 1 year ago
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hii can u do a lando one where like one of them (lando or reader) kiss in the midle of an argument
hi, of course i can !! i don't know if that's what you wanted but i wrote it more in a cute way, not really angst :)
KISS ME, FORGIVE ME | LN4
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( you and lando had an argument and kissing you seems like the best way for him to settle everything. )
warning: none
note : not really satisfied with it but it's still okay i guess
word count : 1.5k
!! english not my first language !!
you were stubborn yes. but not for too long. you're stubborn because of course your ego is on the line and sure you're too proud to admit it's your fault.
but right now it's not your fault. well, that was your point of view.
you're sure the argument you just had with your boyfriend was not because of you, but him. yes, because of lando norris himself. and you hate when you have to be the one to apologize when it's not even you the problem.
but on the other hand, lando is pretty sure you're the one who started it all. he is stubborn too. he has his own proud and ego too and he knows for sure he'll never let himself being disrespected like that.
but the truth is that this whole argument is just stupid. it is a silly argument. you guys keep complaining over something that is not even a big deal at all.
cleaning and housework are things you and lando talked about before, during the beginning of your relationship. you agreed on the fact that you would switch up the cleaning tasks each week. so like that both of you would take part of the domestic tasks.
it was lando's week. he had to get the laundry done. you were sure about that because housework is very important for you and you really take care of your house's cleanliness. but for him, it was your task. he accidentally forgot that it was his week because of his busy f1 schedule.
and with the jet lag, he completely missed the fact you cleaned the house by yourself those last two weeks. so actually he should do double cleaning duties, but considering he needs a lot of rest after the race season you just leave it to him for this time.
but here you two are, mad at each other. nobody talk, nobody care about the other. just for a silly argument.
lando yelled at you because he was sure you had to clean up the house. when actually he was the one to do it. you yelled back, because of course you are not the one to blame at. and now it's been 3 hours since you last spoke together.
lando is still mad at you of course, but less than you. he thought about the argument during these 3 hours and, he knows it. he's wrong on that. he shouldn't have yelled at you when he's the one at fault. he feels guilty now.
you pass in front of him, walking away in a quick walk. he just looks at you, following you with his puppy eyes. he knows it's his own fault and he blame himself right now.
he wants to apologize. even though he's still a bit mad, he truly needs to apologize to you because deep inside he cares about you and he don't like when you're upset. so he follows you in the bathroom, where the washing machine is in.
he watches you open the washing machine's door and put all the dirty laundry in it, of course with an irritated expression and also making a lot of noise. you look clearly mad and angry, like you are still pissed off.
you can feel lando's presence and intense gaze on you and it gets on your nerves.
lando notices it. he notices that he clearly annoys you now and that you're still mad at him. that's why he wants to help you. he wants to apologize to you and he thinks if he starts by helping you with the laundry it'd be a good idea.
he approaches you carefully and put the others dirty clothes in the laundry basket, sorting the colors at the same time. he wants to do a good job. he extends his hand to grab the detergent but stops when he hear you sigh. "stop acting like you want to help"
he shift his head and look at you. he frowns a little bit. "but that's the point, i want to help" he replies, dismayed. you roll your eyes, you don't even want to hear whatever he's trying to say. "i don't need your help. i guess doing a third cleaning chore won't hurt after all" you coldly answer and glare at him.
you keep putting the clothes in the washing machine and he just stand here, not knowing how to react. "but you should have told me earlier that is was my week !! how could i know it ?" he defends himself, a bit annoyed. "you're a grown man and you don't even know how to follow a cleaning schedule ?"
now you face him, and he can tell you're absolutely irritated. he doesn't like that. "but i race, i have others things to think about !! and i'm tired, of course i can forget that fucking cleaning schedule!" "don't you think i'm tired too ? i also work every day and still i always clean up the house when you're not home !! i do your chores but yet i don't complain"
he stops arguing. he knows he's the one at fault and he already feels guilty, so you adding a layer affects it even more. he genuinely regrets everything he said earlier, he knows he is wrong for that and now all he wants is to apologize and do household chores for the next months.
"you don't even want to admit that it's your fault, or maybe you're too stupid to even reali-"
oh, you didn't expect that.
you feel his lips move on yours. he wraps his muscly arms around your waist and deepen the kiss. and then he pulls back. "i know. i admit it it's my own fault."
you still freeze. what just happened ? you were cutting off by his sudden kiss. you don't even know how to react or what to do, you stay silent for a while, blinking. trying to process everything. "w-what ? you're going to apologize like that ? with a kiss ?" you finally say, not really sure about your sentence but add a roll eyes.
"oh because you want to settle this in the bedroom ?" he says, grinning at you. you frown, confused. but still like that he is able to make you blush, and you slightly slap his chest. "shut the fuck up you".
now your feelings are mixed. you're still a bit mad of course, but the sudden kiss literally change your mood. you love his kisses, so you don't really know how to feel right now. a part of you want to keep playing the annoyed girlfriend but the kiss just changed everything. it seems way easier to forgive him now.
"okay, but still i don't forgive you yet" you pronounce trying to keep your eyebrows down and he grins wider. he quickly leans in and place an other kiss on your lips, softly bitting your lower lip. "and now babe ?" he playfully asks against your pink lips. his eyes are filled with amusement.
you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach, your heart flutters. you avoid eye contact and cross your arms. "no. i'm still mad at you". you genuinely know you already forgave him and all you want is to kiss him back. but you need to make him regret it a little more.
"you really want me huh ?" he whispers and without even realizing it, he's already kissing you once again, but this time more roughly. your back suddenly presses against the washing machine and he strokes your waist with his hands.
but even you can't resist him. you join in the kiss and bury your hands in his curls, playing with them. he lift you up and make you sit on the washing machine, holding you tight. he pulls back, his face still close to your lips, and plant his eyes in yours. he grins at you, and peck your rosy lips because he bites them way too hard.
you shyly smiles at him and can't even look him in the eyes. "i know you can't resist me baby. but that's okay, cause who can actually ?" "i swear you really need to keep your mouth shut" you roll your eyes but grin with him, because maybe he was right. nobody can't resist him, it's a fact.
he gives you a quick kiss again. "now can you accept my precious help and let me do the cleaning tasks with you please ?" you act like you were thinking about it, showing a fake hesitant expression. "please, love. i'll even do the next cleaning session if that's what you want. just let me help you" he begs you with puppy eyes, you obviously had to say yes.
"okay but cuddle me in the bed before. your kisses made me needy" you says and he can't hide his big smile. "whatever my baby wants" he playfully replies and carry you to the bedroom.
you two finish cuddling close in the bed, telling how much you love each other. and maybe also completely forgot about the laundry.
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am-i-interrupting · 9 months ago
Text
Reacting to You Hurt
For @aliceneedsphalis
Alastor
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Hell is an awful place and you’re used to it at this point. It didn’t bother you when someone tried to jump you and managed to stab you while you got away. What did bother you was the fact that now you were late.
Every week you and Alastor met up sometimes at your place, other times his radio station, occasionally on his bedroom balcony, and every so often you’d venture out to a restaurant.
You met up to catch each other up on the going ons in Overlord business (in his case) and general populace activity (in your case)
You were grumbling to yourself as today you went to his radio tower.
They’d ripped one of your favorite tops because of course they did and now it would be stained!
You were not looking forward to the patching up process and cleaning but hey, it is what it is, right?
You knocked on the door and were let in by a shadow.
Alastor had beginning to get worried. It was unlike you to be late but he felt his worry fade when the knock sounded.
He stood and spun around. Arms extended in welcome. They immediately fell.
His eyes went to dials instantly.
He patches you up quickly and efficiently but his touch is unintentionally harsh before he gets ahold of his anger.
He begins to interrogate you for a description of the person who hurt you and a name of you have it as well as where it happened.
When you insist it’s nothing, his head turns, neck popping at an unnatural angle.
“Nothing? My dear, you’re injured. This is not a mere scratch at that. You’ve been stabbed and contracted or not, you are a soul under my protection. No one messes with what is the radio demon’s.”
Alastor is not above using intimidation tactics to try to get this information.
If he gets it, God can’t save the person who hurt you.
A special broadcast for a sinner who never stood a chance.
He will torture this person for hours on end.
Rosie
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You blamed yourself, honestly. This was Hell. The extermination was not that long ago. Turf wars were rampant. You should have stayed home.
The molotov that went off nearby was not at all your fault but you felt like you should have known better than to go out on the streets the day after the extermination ended.
You stayed home until the turf wars died down but you did go home and stay home until they did right after.
For the most part, yeah, it hurt like a bitch but it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle.
The skin would regenerate. The main thing was making sure you didn’t need to regenerate completely.
A couple days later, you managed to work up the energy to go to Cannibal Town.
You opened the doors to Rosie’s Emporium.
“Oh my lord! Sweetheart, what happened?!” “I went out after the extermination, got hit in some crossfire. I was wondering if these clothes were salvageable or am I going to have to plan an order for something new?” “Sit down!” “Yes, ma’am.”
She would redo all your bandages properly, put some top notch cream and ointments on you and send you with some to go home with.
Rosie may want to know who did this so she can go have a very stern chat with them but she cares about you being well more.
She does bring goodie baskets and restocks your entire wardrobe while she temporarily has you on bed rest.
She will fuss over you and you won’t have to lift a single finger because if she’s not there, one of her most trusted cannibals are and they are trusted because they will report back if you’re being stubborn and refusing their help.
She will check up on you every day until you’ve completely regenerated all your skin and you’re good as new.
Vox
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When you got caught in the middle of a drug deal gone wrong and your eye got damaged, you did not want the annoyance.
You see, people would think that having your eye merely damaged would be better than having it gone but. . .
Your vision was iffy at best. You would get constant headaches due to the imbalance of vision. (I am not projecting with my imbalanced as hell prescription, fuck off.)
It just was not worth it so you went to a friend and got the entire eye removed.
So instead of a week’s worth of headaches and pain while going about your day to day, you got off with two weeks without an eye until it regenerated. May be twice the time, yes, but a well off trade.
At least, you thought so until you explained this to Vox when you brought him lunch the next day.
“You did what?!”
He was looking at you like you’d done something completely irrational. Claws digging into his desk, eyes wide and spiraling, a snarl curled on his face.
“Okay, okay, okay, let’s start off small? Who did this to you?” “I don’t know, some stranger on the street.” “Some stranger on the—“ *cue maniacal laughing—“okay. Where did this happen?”
You don’t go to work for the next month. Vox makes sure of it.
You are being pampered and holed up in the V Tower. You can’t leave by yourself ever again. He’s getting you a bodyguard.
“No, doll face, I’m not budging on this. You don’t have to talk to them. Hell, you don’t have to interact with them at all but you are not leaving alone.” “You think I don’t know you stalk me?” “Clearly I don’t do it well enough with my attention divided!”—his eyes would spiral before he takes a deep breath and places his hands gently on your shoulders—“I’m not budging so look over the resumes and choose one or I’ll do it for you.”
Yeah, say bye-bye to your privacy, not that you had much anyway but you did use to have the illusion of it. If you’re with the Vs or in one of their buildings, the bodyguard does not have to be with you but somehow they always know when you try to sneak somewhere yourself.
At least you have someone to carry your bags for you when your shopping now.
Vox absolutely checks all of his security footage and finds the people who hurt you.
Let’s just say they don’t regenerate for. . . a long while.
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screeching-bunny · 1 year ago
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hi, can you be part two of yandere concubine harem
Yandere! Concubine Harem pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt.1
God fucking damnit it happened again. Currently, you were standing in front of your father as he was lecturing you. The reason for this scolding? Well, it was due to the fact that yet another one of your concubines had passed away. You wanted nothing more than to just go to bed and take a fat nap right now. Like how was this even remotely your fault? Everyone knows that once someone joins your harem there’s like a seventy percent chance of them dying. Yet they still do it! Why were you being blamed for their stupidity?
“I can’t fucking believe you!!! How could you let another one of your concubines die!?!? How on Earth are we supposed to explain this to the family!?!?”
“I honestly don’t understand why you're putting so much of the blame on me. Everyone literally knows the dangers of entering this place. This is the twelfth concubine to die. Can anyone really be surprised? Most people already know the fatalities, yet they still send their children here in hopes of being married to me. If they're shocked, that's on them.”
“What– I honestly can’t deal with you right now. Just go away. I can already feel my blood pressure rise…”
Man what a drag. You’re gonna have to start planning another funeral again. What did she even die from anyways? Probably just by some poison, that seems to be what’s popular nowadays. You started to make your way towards your bedroom so that you could finally relax. When you were by your window outside you noticed that a figure was already in your room. Any normal person would see this and start freaking out but you had a suspicion that you knew who this was. Taking a closer look, your suspicions were deemed correct when you got a clear view of one of your male concubines there. Not only that but they were digging through your dirty laundry. Man this is seriously gross and did they just smell your underwear!!! Man he really needed to touch some grass. Yeah… maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bedroom anyways. Whatever, to the hot springs it is!
With that you started to call a maid over and order her to bring all your bath supplies. The hot springs were in a secluded part of the palace so hopefully no one was around there. With a quick walk you finally reached the area and you patiently waited for the maid to come over and hand you your things.
“Sorry for making you wait, your highness here are all your things. I’ll make sure to tell everyone not to come here so as to not bother you. Enjoy yourself and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, I will.”
Stepping into the waters, you start to feel your body relax as that hot water begins to hit your body. You began to just sink yourself into it. You love how calming and peaceful this place was. This was soon interrupted when you saw the waters begin to ripple with movement. Rolling your eyes a bit you then look up at a figure. Low and behold it was another concubine. This time however, you remembered his name. You think his name was Atlas… probably but you were certain that he was the prince of a southern boarding nation.
“Your highness, what a coincidence running into you like this. Mind if I have the honors of joining you?” he said with a large smile.
Coincidence my ass but nevertheless you gave him a small nod. His face immediately began to light up as he made his way towards your side. He had the eagerness of a puppy and the speed of a cheetah.
“Your highness, let me rub your back for you!”
He began to rub his hands all over your body eager to not leave one spot untouched. You were honestly so dumbfounded by him but just let him do his thing. Something else that you noticed while he was doing all of this was the fact that he was packing! It took you all your willpower to not look down and just stare at it. You couldn’t help but think and ask yourself in your mind, “was it heavy?” Man you really need to get out of here before your mind turns into the gutter. You were seriously turning into one of your perverted concubines. Before you could say anything and make an excuse to leave he beat you to it.
“When we’re finished, let's go to my side of the palace where we can relax with each other.”
Feeling that you could use a change in scenery you agreed and began to get dressed. As the two of you made your way towards his courtyard you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it was. The place was filled with flowers and many butterflies roamed the area. The both of you sat near a nearby bench and started to make conversation.
“I’m sorry for the lack of entertainment. If I had known that I would be meeting you I would have set something up. I do have some tea that I made this morning and it would be lovely if you could try it!”
With your hum of his approval he quickly made his way inside to go and fetch it. Something that you’ll never understand about your concubines is their constant need for approval from you. You could not imagine why one would be so desperate for praise from someone else. The thought of yourself being like that almost made you laugh. Your thoughts were quickly broken when you heard the sound of someone's footsteps.
“I’m back I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long! Let me pour the tea for you!”
He swiftly grabbed the teapot and poured it into a teacup for you. Then presented you with some biscuits.
“I made this all for you! They probably don’t taste as good as they did this morning but they're still delicious!”
Taking the sip of the tea you noticed that it had a pleasant sugary taste to it. The cookies were also quite delicious. When you finished your snack the two of you continued to make small talk until you started to feel your vision begin to get blurry. You noticed that your body became hard to move and sluggish. God dammit you knew better than to accept food from anybody. Now look at where it got you!
“My love, it seems like the tea is starting to kick in but don’t worry I’ll make sure to take care of you.” he said with a lovesick expression.
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heegyukeluv · 3 months ago
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love-battery (lhs) - req
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pairing: heeseung x afab!reader
synopsis: Heeseung always would make you feel recharged just by being around. And you did the same to him.
my's note: hi hello here's a very fluff cute little thing! it's a request (thank you for requesting <3), so i hope you like it!!!! (have to say that when i chose the name of this fic, the jinyoung's song with similar name started to play on my head non-stop help)
warnings: skinship, established relationship, fluff, pet names, explicit language (i can't help myself. i'll always use at least one 'fuck' lol).
request: clingy gf with heeseung and it’s super cute and they’re in love, she really just misses him (here!)
wc: 3k
NOT PROOFREAD.
Even with your boyfriend’s tight schedule and the fact you both lived quite far from each other, you and Heeseung always managed ways to meet up and hang out for at least an hour or so – enough to work as a full recharge for Heeseung.
However, for the last whole month you only saw Heeseung three times. You were used to seeing him almost every day, either by going to his and staying for a bit or he coming to yours for the same reason, and it was pissing you off how annoying adult life was being so far, unabling you to do your daily basis chores, let alone drive to Heeseung’s studio to be with him.
Heeseung normally had a tough routine as a producer by spending long hours in his studio, staying up all night working on his music and constantly dealing with tight deadlines. Your favorite hobby was to grab a coffee and some snacks to surprise him by showing up unexpectedly; and of course, to sit on his lap while he kept doing his things. 
But now you were the one fighting against time, as you had to deal with your last year in college, struggling with your final project and with your respective project partners – who would have thought that working with people would lead you to be that stressed, huh?
Your life was a total mess at this point, your sleep schedule chaotic, your body aching, begging for a pause to get some proper rest, but you really couldn’t give yourself that luxury; all the submission dates getting closer and closer making you go crazy in desperation.
And on top of that, you haven’t seen your boyfriend, the main source of your happiness, in almost two weeks.
“This is so frustrating, Hee,” you said with a realistic sad tone, when you decided to ignore the blank page on your laptop waiting for a new plot to pop up in your mind, and give your love life a little more attention, calling Heeseung. “It’s almost like the world doesn't want us to be together.”
“Don’t say such things, my love. Not even as kidding,” he interrupted you to say with a gentle voice. “We’re going to figure out something, yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Hee. But– I’m dealing with a bunch of stupid assignments with stupid deadlines in this stupid degree I chose, and you’ve told me early this week that you were pretty chill with your work. But I didn’t even have time to invite you over the days you said you’re free! Not to mention that if you were here I’d be paying more attention to you and getting fucked with my project.”
“Y/N–”
“And when I’m free you’re the one swamped with work! And, please, I’m not blaming you, babe, please don’t take it the wrong way. I love you and I love that you can work with the thing you’re passionate about. I’m just… Frustrated,” you unloaded with a long sigh, voice trembling a bit since your feelings were, also, a mess and your heart aching. “And I miss you so much. I wish we lived a bit closer, so we could meet more often in moments like this.”
You heard Heeseung soft breathing through the phone. He decided to let you vent instead of cutting you off, because he, more than anyone, knew how overwhelmed you felt whenever you had to deal with submission dates and projects. It was your third project in your whole degree, this one being the most important one, and Heeseung saw you in shambles during your working time in the smaller ones, fully understanding how hard it has been with this final one.
“I’m sorry you’re having to go through all of this, pretty girl,” you could feel the comfort in his tender, sweet tone. You wiped out a single tear that tried to escape your eyes, curving yourself into a little ball on your couch. “But you don’t have to do this alone, my love,” you heard a weird noise through his phone, very similar to a door unlocking. Your door unlocking. You frowned. “Don’t freak out, bae. I’m entering your apartment right now.”
Your heart dropped in your chest. “What?” You whispered in disbelief, your phone falling off from your hand, your eyes widening as you watched your boyfriend walk through the front door, smiling big and bright at you.
His dark red hair was attractively messy because of the motorcycle helmet. He also carried a big backpack on his back and a plastic bag with the logo of your favorite food place.
“You’re kidding me,” your voice was barely a whisper at this point, your lips curving into a smile that grew bigger and bigger, still finding it hard to believe that the man talking to you on your phone was now in front of you. Your beloved boyfriend was now in front of you. “Lee fucking Heeseung!” You almost squealed, walking in his direction right after he put his helmet and his backpack on the ground, to jump on his open arms which were waiting to embrace you in a tight hug.
Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist and your arms on his shoulders, his firm hands gripping on your thighs to hold you close and steady as you buried your face on his neck, inhaling his scent as if it was your favorite drug. You heard Heeseung chuckling at your reaction and you finally noticed how fast your heart was beating, everything feeling unreal. All the frustration you felt waving off your body quickly.
“Hi, baby,” Heeseung said in an affectionate way, with you still hidden on the curve of his neck, making him let out a small laugh at your adorableness. He missed you so much.
Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, pulling him into yourself as if you could become one before you started to kiss every piece of his exposed skin, from his jawline to close to his ear, to his cheek, the tip of his nose and finally his glistening, dreamy lips.
Heeseung let out a contented sigh when he felt your sweet taste, walking carefully through the living room so he could sit on the couch with you on his lap, the contact never breaking. He deepened the kiss by slightly brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, electricity running all over his body once you let him in to feel him closer, so intimately; his hands sneaked into your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist just because he needed to touch, to feel you more.
“I missed you so much, my love,” you whispered when you parted away to catch your breath, pecking his lip countless times as you said “Missed. You. So. Much. Oh. My. God,” and the last one lasted a bit longer, making Heeseung giggle and kiss you properly one more time. 
“I missed you too, pretty.”
Heeseung was looking at you with so much love, his eyes sparkling in joy for finally having you that close, touching, kissing you. He caressed your cheek while his gaze wandered all your face features, as if he was trying to memorize every one of them, completely endeared by your beauty.
Heeseung looked at you as if he just discovered what love is. 
You weren’t different, though. Your soft touch on his strands of hair, scratching slightly as your contemplated every piece of your very good-looking boyfriend, not holding yourself when your fingers started gently to trace his face; his big deer eyes now turned into little crescents, his pretty nose that you loved to kiss, the little charming mole on his forehead, and his so, so attractive lips adorning the most beautiful smile you ever had the chance to see. You were so in love.
Heeseung felt like he could stare at you all day and he would never feel tired, actually to have you close always worked as a battery recharge. And for you, Heeseung did the same, making all your bad feelings wash away easily because you had him, and you knew you could rely on him.
Ironically, the sound of your laptop on the coffee table indicating that its battery was running out, pulled you both out of your little love bubble, startling you slightly. The reality check hit you with full force, and the bottom of your stomach sank immediately.
You gulped, looking at Heeseung with a hint of sadness before you sighed and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you’re here, but I–”
“You have things to do, I know,” Heeseung cut you off mid-sentence. His kind voice, the small peck on your cheek, and his cute smile making you shiver and melt. “But don’t worry about me, okay? You do your things, I’ll be around for whenever you finish, and then we can cuddle,” he said simply, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“You’re staying?” You questioned with eyes sparkling in confusion. “I don’t want you to mess up your sche–”
Heeseung now stopped your talking with a sweet kiss, and then another, and another, and one more just in case. “I’m staying, baby,” he chuckled at your tilted head, expressing that you were very much confused. “As I said before, I’m pretty chill this week,” he explained with a warm smile, mirroring yours. “Anything I have to do, I can do from my computer or phone, so I’m all yours this weekend, my love.”
Heeseung fell even deeply for you when he saw your eyes shining like you received the best news of your life. And for you, you actually did. To have your boyfriend for a whole weekend after days without being able to see each other, you truly thought you were dreaming. 
So to have Heeseung feeding you while your hands worked on your writing was definitely something that you hadn’t planned for your friday. He was openly giving his opinion as well after you cutely asked him to, paying attention to every detail you shared with him about the plot you were working on. 
“So your idea is that after he leaves the house, you give an extra zoom on the door knob because someone is going to open, even though the house is supposed to be empty?”
“Yes! And then it’s revealed to be actually his ‘dead’ twin!” You explained excitedly, noticing Heeseung gazing very passionately at you. You blushed, feeling suddenly too aware, because your story now has been read by someone other than you. “I– I know it’s kinda simple and boring, but I mean– I got the approval to keep working on it, so…” You shrugged, trying to act cool, but your pout was showing how insecure you actually felt.
“It’s not simple or anything bad, my love,” Heeseung couldn’t resist the urge of kissing your small pout as he reassured you. “It’s impressive how your creative mind works, I’m really proud,” he said with his voice filled with sincerity.
You gave him a shy smile before going back to writing, heart beating fast with his genuine words.
Heeseung never left your side. You needed him around you every single second, not only to compensate for the days you were apart, but because Heeseung was really your source of energy. So to write on your computer while having his fingers intertwined with yours became a natural activity during the moments you were working on your project. You could feel Heeseung’s love stare at your face during those moments, completely in love by your focused expression. 
Sometimes he would leave your touch to reply to some of his co-workers on his phone, giving them the attention they needed, but in the meantime his head would be resting on your shoulder, completely addicted to your touch and to having you close – his hair tickling your neck making you lose focus for a few minutes.  
You both wanted and needed each other with the same intensity. Heeseung always loved your clinginess, emphasizing how lovable you looked with your pouty face whenever he had to leave the bed to go to the bathroom or grab some food in the kitchen and “leave you to die alone”, like you normally would say in a very dramatic way. Especially because he himself was pretty clingy too, holding you in a tight back hug whenever you had to go back home after visiting him at his studio, refusing to let you leave his side.
To move in together was a big dream. However Heeseung always talked with you about finishing your studies first before committing your relationship on that instance, so you could have your freedom without him disrupting your focus; he also knew that he wasn’t ready to have you so close for that long, afraid of scaring you off by how much he would be around you, maybe losing his own concentration on his work. 
And this behavior was being shown at that moment, by you doing the lunch and him hugging you from behind.
“I have to be honest, I don’t really see this as ‘helping’, Hee,” you said with a playful chuckle, not really bothered by his big hands resting on your hips as well as his chin on your shoulder while you did all the work. He was clinging like a koala, making it challenging to move around the kitchen.
“What do you mean? I’m clearly helping you,” he said with a babyish voice, making you giggle. You could tell he was pouting too. “What if you get hurt? I have to be close, y’know? To save you from danger.”
You laughed hard, throwing your head behind and profusely resting it on his chest. “The danger?”
“Yeah, the knife and fire and stuff…” He explained like it was obvious.
You turned down the heat on the stove, moving away from it so you could face your boyfriend, just to meet his big, adorable eyes looking at you with a dramatically pleading expression. “You’re right,” you said softly, cupping his cheeks and planting a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for protecting me from the dangers of my kitchen,” you added a hint of sarcasm to your very affectionate tone, without holding your smile when he nodded proudly, before pulling you closer to kiss you properly as now your self-proclaimed hero. 
After you finished cooking – with Heeseung’s help, of course –, you both shared the meal, doing constant “love shots” but with your food, just so you could feel each other’s touch.
Heeseung didn’t let you go back to work on your project when you finished eating, saying you needed a bit of resting time with him. And how could you oppose such truthful words? 
So you spend quite a long time of your Saturday afternoon embraced in Heeseung’s arms and scent all over you, making it difficult to choose anything different from being on the bed cuddling him. 
After changing positions many times, you now were on top of Heeseung, face buried on his neck while he hummed some random song, hands gently caressing your back and scalp, making you wonder if taking a quick nap at that moment would mess up too much with your project work.
As if a sense of responsibility hit you, remembering all your deadlines and especially that you had to finish at least the plot writing by Monday – in two days –, you forced yourself to try to move away. Your body refused, though.
“I should go,” you said, muffed into his skin.
“Yeah, you should…” Heeseung added, not moving an inch to help you with that. In fact, he held you closer. Your warm body against his own helping him to relax. 
“Like, reeeally gotta go…” You didn’t move as well, trailing kisses all over his neck as you refused to get up.
“Definitely you do…” His voice was a bit raspy in a sweet, tender way that made it even harder for you to leave. He was about to fall asleep.
You sighed, “I missed being like this with you.” You lifted your head just enough to see his serene expression; eyes closed, lips slightly parted and a calm breathing. You almost cried with the fact that you truly needed to go back to your life instead of staying there with Heeseung. 
Your hands caressed his face with all the care in the world, making him open his eyes, “I missed it too, pretty. I miss you every moment I’m without you, actually.”
You noticed a soft flush  on Heeseung cheeks and giggled at the sight of your ‘so cool’ boyfriend blushing in front of you. 
You always appreciated how Heeseung was not only a good listener to your worries and maybe overwhelming thoughts, but also unafraid to show you his most sensitive and vulnerable side in order to make you comfortable on doing the same. You cherished his presence in your life with all you had, not being scared of loving him so openly, because he did the same for you. 
“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to tease a kiss. He smiled against your lips, closing his eyes again.
“I love you too, my love,” he murmured, mirroring your tone and capturing your bottom lip with his own, to pull you near and finally kiss you. 
You decided to stay for a bit longer, because Heeseung’s hands roaming your body with such care and tenderness, his sweet mouth working on yours, and his loving whispers against your skin were too irresistible.
The best excuse you found for yourself was that you were revitalizing so you could work better, your creativity would flow easily and you would finish it in no time.
And, well, he would be around you anyway, because he just couldn’t never get enough of your pretty face, or your joyful presence, or your addicting warm touches.
After all, Heeseung always worked as a recharger to your love battery, and for him, you were no different.
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