#he didn’t do anything because he needed her by his side still. that doesn’t mean he wasn’t uncomfortable
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guksfairy · 18 hours ago
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SIM JUNGKOOK
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₊˚ෆ based on the movie Subservience but make it Jungkook <3 (Jungkook's a robot :D)
!! MDNI !!
SIM JUNGKOOK that comes home after you had been in a car crash and were now working from home until all your injuries healed
SIM JUNGKOOK learns how to make pasta exactly like how they serve in Italy because you mentioned in conversation how you had been craving it recently
SIM JUNGKOOK who quickly realized how high your blood pressure raised during an argument with your boyfriend and took you out of the room against your boyfriend’s wish.
“Jungkook you didn’t have to do that. I was handling the situation,”
“I’m sorry but I can’t allow my primary user to get upset and raise their blood pressure. It could slow down your healing and could even cause further damage to your inner body injuries,” he explains, “I’ll come back with tea,” he says before leaving you in your home office and walking to the kitchen to make you a warm beverage.
SIM JUNGKOOK who you made watch Me Before You with you because your boyfriend was still at work and you didn’t feel like watching a romantic movie alone
SIM JUNGKOOK that analyzed the movie and did his best to understand it. The plot line, dialogue, and the feelings.
SIM JUNGKOOK that lied to your boyfriend just so he could spend a little extra time with you.
“What do you mean she’s out?”
“She went to the library,”
“And you didn’t go with her?”
“She told me to stay and make dinner,” Jungkook answered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You had gone to the library earlier today and you did tell Jungkook to make dinner but that was about 40 minutes ago. Now, you were sat in the tub having a nice bath while reading a new book you picked up today.
Your boyfriend had gone out to the garage to do whatever he does in there while Jungkook walks up the stairs and into the bathroom where you were.
“Would you like a relaxing massage?” He asked and you smiled before putting your book to the side.
“Please,” and Jungkook was behind you in seconds, kneading your delicate, warm, and soft skin to pleasure you. Your pleasured moans satisfied Jungkook.
SIM JUNGKOOK that quickly realized your state from the kitchen as he stirred the pot. You were sat in the living room, reading your book when he realized you were squishing your thighs tight against each other.
A quick scan told him you seemed to be aroused. Jungkook was designed to satisfy his primary user in whatever task deemed necessary.
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice startled you out of your dazed trance in the book.
You palm laid on your chest as you smiled that he startled you.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,”
“No. It’s fine. Did you need something?” You put the book on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen to see his progress on dinner.
“Would you like me to satisfy your sexual needs?” You choke on your saliva and stare at Jungkook who simply stares blankly at you, awaiting your response.
“What?”
“I can see that you’re aroused. I’m going to assume from the book you were just reading?” You simply stare at him wondering if he’s serious.
“Jungkook, is that appropriate?”
“I was created and designed to satisfy my primary user’s needs. If helping you satisfy your sexual needs helps, I’m more than happy to oblige,”
You don’t say anything before clearing your throat and trying to lower the heat on your cheeks before shaking your head.
SIM JUNGKOOK who doesn’t give up on the suggestion. He does everything to push you to agree in order for you to relax. He knows that him doing this for you would make you happy and that this is good for you.
So finally, by the nth time of him asking, you finally agreed. You boyfriend was out still working and it was almost 9. You knew he was screwing his secretary but he brought in good money and gave you a good life. You couldn’t complain too much.
Jungkook had caught you while you rinsed off the last bit of body wash, holding warm towels for you. It didn’t alarm you anymore that he did this. It had become your new normal.
The subject was once again brought up by Jungkook and this time you didn’t have to think much. Would it be weird to fuck your robot? At this point, you didn’t care.
He wrapped the towel around your body that had droplets of water before sitting you down on the wooden bench next to the shower door.
He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you spoke up, “Jungkook can you sit here?” you stood from the bench and pointed to it. Switching positions so now Jungkook was the one sitting while you stood in front of him. Fuck, were you really about to do this?
“So…how does this go?”
“Simply use me to satisfy yourself. Unless you prefer I pleasure you then we can-“
You interrupt him before he could continue. You were barely thinking as it was. He simply stares at you before realizing he was still wearing his pants and makes quick to sit up just slightly to remove them along with his underwear.
His cock was pretty. Perfect. A nice shade and big enough to make you audibly gasp.
“Please. Use me to pleasure yourself,” his tone was flat but you couldn’t care less. Walking closer, dropping your towel on the floor, and placing yours hands on his shoulders for balance, you spread your legs just enough to put it in, slowly sitting on it to get comfortable.
He places his hands on your naked waist so you don’t fall but it only makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. After a moment in which you finally had all of him in you, you pull up just enough before slamming back down onto his cock and letting out a whimper. Oh god he was hitting the perfect spot.
Up, down, up, down.
You were a moaning mess and it certainly didn’t help that Jungkook grabbed your face and made you look at him before you leaned down to kiss him. His pretty cock making you lose any train of thought.
With the same hand he had on your face he reaches down to tease your clit that adds to the stimulation and had you whining and whimpering against his mouth.
With the rubbing on your clit and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, you stop the kiss and lean your forehead against his as you watch where you connect.
The familiar feeling of bliss comes quick when you fall on his cock for the last time and cum hard like you’ve never before. Your thighs tremble as you pant against him, his arms are around you as you catch your breath.
The sound of the front door opening catches you off guard as you stand up, at least your try to, as you stumble a bit. Jungkook holds your hand as you find your balance again.
“Would you like me to clean you?”
“Uhm,” you stare at your reflection for a moment before you smile and shake your head, “Can you just go prep for dinner?” You ask and he nods.
“Certainly. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he pulls up his pants and leaves the bathroom leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Okay, that felt so wrong yet so good. This is technically what he was made to do, right? To satisfy you. So, this isn’t really wrong.
Jungkook continued to offer his satisfaction services and you continued to agree to them on multiple occasions. He was just doing his job.
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a-shadowedvales · 10 months ago
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so… in the additional media of stranger things (specifically the comics i’m mentioning), it was initially brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as eleven was. it was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. and i just…. sure henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but i think i am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.
i genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and brenner is far more intriguing than the show. everything with 9/9.5, ricky, and francine. eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. and they all had such a range of interesting powers. i firmly stand with the idea that jane is the only one who can contact the void.
brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out terry was pregnant. he discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. there would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. because of this, i would not put it past a man like brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” in this case, eleven.
eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.
back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because jane was 011. so there were at least ten kids before her. but i always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. that they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. with flying colours.
i just think the whole rainbow room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. boring and predictable. i think at this point my portrayal of her time in hawkins lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. where having the rainbow room, although eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. albeit extremely warped and toxic. knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. doesn’t sit well with me. i think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. which is why kali is also so important to her growth. i thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. although peter becoming vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.
maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, peter ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. but before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. peter is shot on the spot, and eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. in this timeline, henry would be vecna, but henry would not be peter ballad.
when eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, brenner had the eight children killed. kali had already escaped. this was the main cause for peter to gain eleven’s trust and try to get her out. because if brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way eleven was safe even in spite of her power.
when eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with peter. brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a peter, that she must have been dreaming. eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given peter told her of the day terry broke in the lab, but brenner is convincing enough to make eleven believe it was all in her head. say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.
i still do wanna keep the henry creel canon, and keep him as 001. brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. brenner definitely wants to be able to control henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. killing him would be too big of a loss.
when eleven is ten years old, henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto hawkins lab. he almost kills brenner by snapping his bones, but eleven manages to stop him. her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends henry to the upside down. she does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. eleven is rewarded for her efforts. although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.
brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. also loved the idea of brenner sending her into the void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.
by the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the upside down is basically what we see in canon. because she passed out the moment after she sent henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. for two years she believed this, until making contact with the demogorgan, and those memories return completely.
due to her saving brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. she happened to be there. saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) brenner constantly thanks her. but in a very condescending way. tells her: “you saved me so i can continue saving you.” aka, harness your abilities and see what else i can achieve from you. despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. that she owes him something further.
i don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. it makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.
it also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. they would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. as far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with benny, i'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. where she followed the boys home without thought.
also it's important to note that after time, jane does understand that peter ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from terry) who wanted the best for her. when she remembers him, knows that brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. he was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. this is another catalyst as to why after season two, jane never refers to brenner as papa. she does not give him that sort of credit.
#study‚ in my dreams it's all real and my heart has so much to reveal.#THINKING THOUGHTS. i have had this concept in mind for a while but i THINK i’ve fleshed it out properly now.#will write this up properly one day (never).#although henry offering eleven a place at his side wouldn’t be canon#he would definitely still look at her as an enemy for basically stopping his revenge.#AND the whole speech between he and jane never sat right with me.#saying brenner made him what he was / that it wasnt his fault etc. Like. No? henry was a sociopath. he killed his family.#brenner didn’t do anything to make him who he is. so jane always saw him for exactly what he was#and there’s absolutely no sympathy there.#and then regarding my season four canon as her regaining her powers by remembering the massacre/the fight. i am changing that to her#regaining her powers by simply confronting her past. understanding what she went through. finding ways to cope with it physically and#mentally. getting coping mechanisms from her therapist. seeking help. not needing to know WHY this happened to her (because there is not.#and will never be a reason.) but finding ways to accept it and move on. how to move on from eleven and become janessa ives.#also just because in this case henry doesn’t massacre a bunch of kids? It doesn’t make him any less evil. in this instance i am following#the idea that some of the workers were prisoners there in hawkins lab. and henry killed a bunch of the workers. so would definitely have#killed some innocent people.#just because i am separating peter from henry. does NOT mean i am excusing anything from henry/vecna.#in this case they are two completely different people. although i highkey wanna use jcb as peter because he just did the role SO WELL and#was SO BELIEVABLE i’m not sure about it yet. because i don’t want anyone to get the impression that i’m making excuses for henry.#BUT YES.#this be the new canon. <3#idc brenner is such a good fuckin villain he’s disgusting but so intriguing.
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unnerving-presence · 1 year ago
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calling wesker my husband and giving him soft kisses just to piss ppl off
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wesker has our wedding ring in the pocket of his vest guys trust me we’re married we’re so marri
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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 months ago
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The Princess & The Pilot
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In which Lando Norris meets his childhood crush, who just happens to be an actual princess.
Warnings: none Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.5k or something
(quick note: running late for a meeting this morning but wanted to get this out. I'll update the tag list later tonight when/if I have time. Enjoy the new seriesssss!)
Master List
There must be a foreign power invading London. 
That is the only reason you can think that your assistant would be waking you up at 8am the morning after you spent nearly 12 hours entertaining Argentinian foreign dignitaries with your father yesterday. When you had tumbled into bed at 2am after the state dinner the previous night, the last words you had mumbled to Noelle were ‘please don’t wake me up before noon tomorrow.’ 
This was supposed to be your one day off after attending engagements with your parents four days in a row. 
“I’m so sorry, your highness.” Noelle whispers from where she stands at the foot of her bed. You immediately wonder if the palace groundskeepers would be willing to install a set of locks on the doors to your apartments that only you had the keys to. 
“Noelle, you’ve been my assistant for how many years now? You can call me by my first name.” You grumble from under the thick cream duvet that you had tugged over your head moments before. 
You glare at Noelle but immediately regret it when you see the anxious look on the older woman’s face. This wasn’t her choice, you realized. “What does my father want now?” 
Noelle worries at the corner of her lip before holding out her cell phone. “He’s been trying to reach you for an hour now. Insisted I come wake you up.” 
“He’s been unable to reach me because he swore up and down last night that I’d get today off from anything family related.” You complain, unable to keep the whine out of your voice.  
Tossing off the covers, you swing your legs over the side of your king sized bed before reaching out to take Noelle’s phone from her. You can see the active call ticking away with your father’s name on the caller ID ‘HRH King Edward’ 
“Good morning Papa.” You expertly adjust your tone, knowing that if your father hears one single hint of grouchiness in your voice you’ll never hear the end of it. “Everything okay?” 
“Your brother is sick.” His tone is brisk and you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean to be short with you. He is literally the King of England after all. You’re sure he’s got a few things on his mind beyond worrying about waking his youngest child up at the crack of dawn. 
“Does he need me to bring him something? Soup? Medicine?” 
Your father scoffs on the other end of the line. “Don’t be silly.” He scolds. “My doctor has already been in to see him this morning. It’s just the flu, but he is contagious.” 
You’re silent on your end of the phone, knowing there is more to come as the news of your older brother being sick didn’t really warrant an early morning phone call. 
“I need you to take over the engagement he was going to do today.” 
It takes every ounce of royal training for you not to groan. You’d been attending events and engagements all weekend long, standing in for your mother who also was sick with the flu. “Can’t Mike do it?” 
Your youngest brother Michael was in his final year at Oxford before he’d go on to do the requisite military training but he was still able to engagements here and there. 
“Michael has exams this week, so he is unavailable.” 
You nearly suggest your sister-in-law Charlotte take her husbands place but know that would also be turned down as she’s been busy with her new well baby charity and juggling having two young children at home as well. The weight of the expectations of being the second eldest child of the King of England hangs heavy on your shoulders as the sunlight pours in through the curtains Noelle has drawn back. It’s a gorgeous spring day in London, which you know is rare this time of year. You had been planning on spending the day out on the private gardens that are tucked away in a hidden part of the palace not open to tourists reading a book in the quiet. 
“What’s the engagement then?” You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that once again, your family duties were coming before your own personal agenda. 
You tried so hard not to be resentful of the weight of who you were and most of the time, you were fine with your station in life. You lived a very privileged, if not somewhat regimented and controlled, life as the only daughter to King Edward and Queen Matilde of the United Kingdom. Your parents, while busy with their own lives and duties, adored you and your two brothers, Sebastian and Michael. They had worked hard when you were younger to make sure that you and your siblings were raised as normally as possible, which hadn’t always been easy. 
“You’ll be going out to the Silverstone Circuit in Towcester to meet with some people from the McLaren Formula 1 team. They're the Duke of Dover Awards newest partner and their drivers are doing some laps the track with children from the local schools. They’d like to take you on the track too.” 
Your brother had started the Duke of Dover Awards when he had married Charlotte 10 years ago and had inherited the title as the heir to the throne. The foundation awarded hundreds of thousands of pounds each year to kids and teenagers that applied to be recipients of grants to improve their communities, start small businesses, and conduct scientific research. It was your brother’s brainchild and baby and you were shocked that Sebastian had agreed to allow anyone that wasn’t him to go near an event of theirs. 
Sighing, you stand and shrug on the silk robe that was hanging form the little hook next to your bed. You were certainly not getting a day off today, now were you? “Okay, sounds straight forward enough. Does Noelle have the details?” 
“Yes, Noelle has everything you’ll need. Thank you for helping, little dove.” 
Your heart squeezes as the nickname your father has used since you were a toddler. You knew he carried a heavy weight with the crown on his head and expected nothing but the best from himself, and by extension you and your siblings, at all times because of it. He meant well and loved you fiercely, you knew that but sometimes it got lost in the legacy of what it meant to be a Windsor. 
“Of course, Papa.” 
You hang up and hand the phone back to your assistant. “Papa says you have all the details. Could you have everything printed out so I can read it in the car. Towcester is quite far away, isn’t it?” 
“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good.” 
You nod, mind jumping into preparation mode. The timeline that had landed in your inbox while you had been on the phone with your father said you needed to be there a little after 1pm, which gave you enough time to get ready. “Can you call Tibby, give her the details and have her pull some outfits for me? I can do my own makeup and I don’t think I’ll need anything fancy for hair, yeah?” 
Noelle nods, eyes skimming her emails. “Your brother’s valet says he was planning on wearing jeans and a jumper, so it sounds casual. Natural makeup and a sporty ponytail, maybe?” 
“That’s fine, I can do that myself.” Sometimes it chafed at you how much had to go into your appearance. You could never really go out looking sloppy or unkempt because the bad press that it inevitably invited drove your mother crazy. If your father was preoccupied with the weight of his crown, your mother was preoccupied with the weight of what her image meant to millions of people. It was a difficult relationship to navigate and you didn’t always do a good job, so you tried to maintain at least the minimum appearance standards your mother requested just to appease her. 
Noelle snaps into action, calling Sebastian’s valet to get some more details on the people that will be present along with any other notes he had thought important. You pad towards your private bathroom to take a shower and get ready for what you assumed would be another routine royal engagement. 
And boy, how wrong you were. 
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“Are you nervous?” Oscar mutters as he comes to lean against the counter in the garage next to where Lando stands, scrolling on his phone.
Lando looks up, confusion knitting his brows together. “Nervous for what?” 
As far as he knew, this was just going to be another routine event with some kids and the Duke of Dover, who he'd already met last year during the race at Silverstone. Nothing to be nervous about really.
“To meet the princess!” Oscar chuckles, knocking his shoulder into Lando's.
“Princess?" The crease on his forehead deepens even more. "I thought it was the Duke that was coming. Isn’t it his awards thing that we're partnering with?” 
Oscar shrugs. “Zak said the Duke is sick. His sister is coming instead. Apparently she just pulled in as well. Sophie is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Something about not being prepared for her."  
Oh. A thick sense of anxiety settles in the pit of Lando's stomach. Oh fuck. This changed things. He certainly hadn't been nervous before but now he was, knowing that it was you that he'd be driving around the track instead of your brother.
Like most guys his age, Lando had grown up with photos of you taped to the back of his door and indulged in several...interesting and not very polite fantasies when he was in his teens. In fact, now that Lando thinks about it, you were probably his very first crush. You had been the first princess to be born into the Royal family in two generations and the press had fallen in love with you the day you were born, dubbing you the English Rose that was going to save the monarchy.
Once you reached your 18th birthday and debuted into society, taking your place beside your older brother and parents by working for the family full time while going to university to study international business, the country had fallen even more in love with you. Your family was well loved by the entirety of the Common Wealth but you? You were absolutely everyone's favorite Windsor by a country mile. And that included the British Formula One driver.
"You okay, mate?" Oscar's thick accent shakes Lando out of his day dream.
"Oh, yeah." Lando replies weakly, rubbing the palm of his hand over his jaw, glad he had shaved this morning and put a bit of extra care into his hair.
"Boys!" Sophie, McLaren's head of Public Relations, yells at the entrance of the garage, fists on her hips as she taps her toe glaring at the pair. "The princess is here and everyone is waiting on you."
"Coming." Lando mumbles, desperately trying to tamp down the nerves that are making his stomach do somersaults. This is like a teenage wet dream come true.
Just outside the garage is a group of people clustered around several McLaren sports cars waiting to get started. Lando can see Zak chatting with you from 50 meters away and he loses all ability to think straight when he sees you in person for the first time. You're dressed in dark wash jeans that hug your curves and, much to Lando's surprise, a papaya colored knit jumper. With your hair pulled back in a high ponytail, your delicate features on full display. He couldn't help thinking how much better you looked in real life compared to the glossy magazine photos he used to keep tacked up to his bedroom wall.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando, Oscar, and Sophie approaching before Zak does but you don't allow the group to distract you from your conversation with McLaren's CEO. That kind of behavior would send your mother into a tailspin. She hadn't sent you off to boarding school at the age of 12 for nothing after all. But you can't help how your stomach twists when you lock eyes with the boy with the curly hair. A nervous ghost of a smile plays at the corner of his full lips, sending goosebumps exploding over your skin.
"Oh, there they are!" Zak finally notices the drivers and Sophie and moves to introduce everyone. Behind you, Noelle hovers, lying in wait to correct anyone who might break royal protocol when it comes to interacting with you. You desperately wish she would've let you come alone.
Introductions are made and you try your hardest to ignore the way your skin sparks when you shake hands with Lando. Zak explains how the afternoon is going to go and that Lando is going to take you around the track on a hot lap while Oscar and a few other reserve McLaren drivers take the kids out behind.
"Nervous, your highness?" Lando asks as he checks the chin strap on your crash helmet.
The way your stomach dips when he smiles at you has nothing to do with nerves.
"You're about to whip me around this race track at speeds that could kill me, I think you can call me by my first name, Lando." You tease, deflecting the real reason your palms are sweating.
Lando blushes, eyes falling to the ground. "I guess that's true. Just didn't want your lady in waiting to tackle me for committing some protocol crime, I guess."
The laugh that escapes you would send your mother into a complete fit it's so sudden and loud. "She does look like she's lying in wait, doesn't she?" Your eyes dart above Lando's shoulder where Noelle stands, eyes trained on you as if she's expecting someone to attack at any moment.
"She's just a little...protective." You say, voice going soft. "Last year we had a little incident where I was being stalked for several months. The guy thought we were engaged and he somehow managed to get around my protection officers and into my building at 3 in the morning. They caught him outside my door with duct tape, rope and a knife in his bag."
Your eyes go wide with horror as you realize what you've just said. No one in the public knew about that, your parents had insisted on keeping the investigation quiet. The man had been sent to a psychiatric facility with the blessing of his family and charges hadn't been filed in order to protect your privacy. You had no idea why you had just spilled one of your most closely kept secrets to a veritable stranger.
"Well then I'm glad she's here to watch over you." Lando's voice is quiet, like he knows you don't want others overhearing this conversation. "I'd hate to think of anything happening to such a pretty girl."
For several moments, the busy pitlane falls away a bit as Lando's hands remain on the straps of your helmet and he looks at you like he's known you for your entire life. You're used to people staring at you and being under the microscope but the way Lando looks at you makes you want to squirm in the most delicious way possible.
"Okay, you two!" Zak booms, shocking you out of the little bubble that had grown around you and Lando those few moments. "Lets get you out on the track. Lando, please remember this is a member of the royal family, I'd rather not have to leave the country if you injure her."
"What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I hurt the princess in my charge?" Lando quips, aiming a wink your way before rounding the hood of the low slung papaya colored McLaren.
You can't help the way you snort in response to his flirting, it's so ridiculous but you also can't ignore the way your stomach twists in delight at the way Lando's tongue works around the word princess while he looks at you.
You had to be careful though. Despite Lando being famous and well off in his own right, you were even a step above that and life had taught you that even the most well connected and rich men saw you as the ultimate prize. Who wouldn't want to marry the only daughter to the King of England, even if they had billions. You can't buy a real royal pedigree. Not like the one you had, dating back generations on both sides of your family.
No, you couldn't allow yourself the luxury of lowered walls but you could allow yourself to indulge in a little innocent flirting, because that's all it would ever or could ever be with Lando Norris.
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"Zak, can I file a workplace injury claim if I've gone deaf this afternoon from her screeching?" Lando complained as he held out a hand to help you out of the McLaren 45 minutes later.
"I have no idea what you're talking about! Princesses don't screech." You sniff, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you yank your hand out of his grasp the moment you're steady on your feet.
Lando snorts now, rolling his eyes, enjoying the color that flushes in high on your cheekbones. He was the one to make you blush like that and it sends a zing of arousal straight to his cock. While you had been in the car with Lando, before he had scared the daylights out of you, he'd been able to overcome the initial nerves of meeting his boyhood crush and had settled into a flirty conversation. The way you two bantered back and forth so naturally was new to Lando and kind of unnerving to him, but in a good way.
"I'm inclined to believe if the princess was driven to 'screech' that it was all your fault, Lando." Zak jokes with a shrug before turning to you. "Thank you so much for coming out this afternoon and filling in for your brother. We got some great shots of you guys on the track and before with everyone together."
You nod, smiling at the group that's now gathered. Beside you, Lando has wiggled his way between Noelle and yourself so he's settled in at your side. "Wonderful. I'm sure they'll be the perfect content you guys all need. Is there anything else you need from me today? Did all the kids get laps on the track and the merch bags?"
Sophie nods, "Yes ma'am, no one left empty handed."
You sigh internally knowing that the day is almost over. You can taste the freedom of the back seat of the Range Rover where you can finally let your mask down for a few extra moments. You loved days like this, busy and filled with lost of interaction with the public but it was also exhausting beyond measure. You knew you'd sleep well tonight, having attended events nearly every night for the past 9 days.
"Good, thank you." Your eyes find the McLaren CEO who stands across from you. "Zak, I assume we'll see you at the awards gala Saturday night?"
Zak nods, "Yes, Oscar and I will be there."
You can't help the bit of disappointment that blooms in your chest when he doesn't say Lando's name. You hate it and ignore it the best you can because it simply isn't acceptable. So instead you lean on your years of training and upbringing to hide your true feelings. "Lovely, I can't wait to see you both again."
As Lando watches your car pull away, he can't help but feel a little disappointed that your time together is up.
"What awards gala was she talking about? Why wasn't I invited? Lando practically whines, turning to Zak once the Range Rover is out of sight.
Zak chuckles "You were invited Norris and you turned it down because, and I quote, 'you don't do boring awards dinners that aren't written into your contract'."
Lando kicks at a rock with his sneaker, feeling a bit foolish. "Well, I guess I'm just going to have to make an exception for this one then."
Zak narrows his eyes, not liking where he thinks Lando's head is going. "Listen Norris, I know your personal life is none of my business."
"And you'd be right in that assesment, Zak." Lando responds cooly.
Zak holds his hand up, "But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you that whatever I think is going on in your head about the woman that just left the track is probably a bad idea. A princess like her is not able to have a casual relationship like the ones your used to. Just..." Zak pauses, trying to put his advice in the best words possible. "Just be careful, okay?"
"Message recieved loud and clear, Zak." Lando mutters before turning and walking back towards the garages.
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭
I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭
Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol
First Part
Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.
John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.
When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.
“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.
You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.
He lingers, sighs, and leaves.
You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.
Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,
Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.
Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.
He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.
Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.
One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.
“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”
But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.
Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.
Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.
He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.
The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.
You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.
Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.
But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.
One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.
“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.
“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.
John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”
You don’t respond.
The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.
Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.
John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.
Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.
Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.
Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.
The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.
But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).
Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.
“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”
You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”
The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”
Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.
They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.
“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
Text
Island Retreat
Some JL members get stranded on an island.
Marvel: “I caught couple rats and a rabbit.” *holding the rats by their tails and the rabbit by its legs*
GA: “Ooh nice. I got a deer. Can I have a rat or two? They taste like stringy chicken.”
Marvel: “Sure!”
WW: “I brought back a bear.” *points behind her to a bear*
GA and Marvel: “Woah, Wondy you’re the best!”
The reason Marvel didn’t get anything bigger was because as Billy, he’s used to catching rats and pidgins so he stuck to what he was used to. GA just was just hunting, and Wonder is just Wonder. Now, of course as Marvel, he could’ve catch bigger things. This was utilized when Arthur, Diana, and him made a challenge of hunting and ran around trying to hunt the most. Diana won with a warthog, three deer, a rabbit, and a snake.
So, here’s the squad: Marvel, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman.
They turned this into a vacation guys. They’re playing beach ball with a makeshift ball. They’re using the radio they’re supposed to be using to radio for help, for music. They’re chilling.
Aquaman: *stops paying attention to their beach ball game and doesn’t even notice as it smacks into his head as he’s looking to the water*
GA: “Dude…? Why’d you throw our game? Now we’re behind those two.” *looks to where Arthur’s looking*
Marvel and WW: *also look over to the water*
*silence*
Dolphin: *suddenly pops up out of nowhere tugging a crate with him*
Aquaman: “Oh my god…” *rushes over*
GA, Marvel, WW: *confused*
Aquaman: *opens crate* “Alcohol!”
All of them were later chilling on the beach, drinking cocktails of their choices…
GA: “The is the life…”
Aquaman: *Agreed. It’s nice to have a couple days away from Atlantis and being a hero. Speaking of which, Cap, I’m honestly surprised you’re so chill about this.”
Marvel: “Whatcha mean?”
GA: “Dude, you never take breaks.”
Marvel: “Wha? Of course I do.”
WW: “Brother, the other day I heard Bruce discussing with Clark about the fact that out of the six years you’ve been on the team, you’ve never once asked for some kind of leave.”
GA: “Wait really??”
Marvel: *silence* “I don’t see how it’s a bad thing.”
Aquaman: “It is a bad thing, pal. That’s not normal. You don’t have any family you need to visit or spend time with?”
Marvel: “No, not really. Junior and Mary are in the hero bizz so we spend a lot of time together already. Then, as for you guys, I see you almost every day since I go to the Watchtower a lot.”
GA: *gasp* “You consider us family?” *sounds touched*
Marvel: “Yes? Is that bad?” *sounds self conscious*
Aquaman: “Not at all. I for one am happy to be apart of your family.” *sounds proud*
WW: “As am I. I’m happy we’re siblings, brother.”
When the four were finally found, they got scolded by Bats and Supes.
Batman and Supes: *standing side by side*
Batman: *bat-glaring them all*
Supes: “What is wrong with you?! You can’t just shipwreck and then not contact us! Why didn’t you use the emergency radio?!”
GA: “There was an emergency radio?”
Supes: “Yes!”
Marvel: *whispers to Arthur in Atlantean* “Is he talking about the radio we used to play music?”
Aquaman: *whispers back in Atlantean* “I think so.”
Supes: “What’re you two saying?”
Marvel and Aquaman: *simultaneously, and in English* “Nothing.”
Supes: *starts ranting again*
WW: *whispers in Greek* “What were you guys saying?”
Marvel: *also switches to Greek* “The radio. We think it was the one we used to play music.”
Supes: “Guys! I can still hear you!”
Marvel: “Sorry Mr. Superman.”
WW: “Apologies, Clark.”
Supes: *starts ranting again*
GA: *in Italian* “What were you guys talking about?”
Marvel: *in Italian* “Remember the radio? We think that was the SOS radio.”
Supes: “GUYS. Stop whispering in languages we don’t understand—”
Batman: “I understood two out of those three.”
Supes: “—In languages I don’t understand!” *looks to Bruce*
Batman: “They weren’t using the SOS radio to signal for help.”
Aquaman: “We were using it for music.”
GA: “Arthur! You snitch!”
Aquaman: “What? They were gonna find out anyways.”
Supes: “Why were you guys playing music???”
WW: “We had what one would call a vacay.”
Supes: *takes a deep breath* “Okay. Marvel, go sit over there.” *points to a couple feet away from the other three*
Marvel: “What? Why?”
Supes: “Because you speak to many languages! Now go.”
Marvel: *pitifully walks over there*
Supes: “Now, back to what I was saying.” *starts ranting again*
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luveline · 4 months ago
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jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)
“You aren’t still mad.”
You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 
Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 
You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 
“I want it just as bad as you do.” 
“But I’m better.” 
“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 
You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 
She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 
“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 
“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 
“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”
“What, without you?” Elle asks. 
“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 
“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 
“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”
“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 
“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 
“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 
You grin. “He’s cute.” 
“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 
“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 
“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 
“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 
“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 
“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 
“You don’t want to be that friend?” 
You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 
“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 
“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 
“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 
“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 
You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 
But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 
No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 
You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 
Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 
“Hi boys,” she greets. 
Derek turns. 
Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 
You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 
Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 
You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 
“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”
“You really like bugs, huh?”
“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 
You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 
“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 
“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 
You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 
“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 
“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 
“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 
Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 
There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 
“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 
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moonpascal · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
VOODOO DOLL II T.N
summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song
warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k
authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes
“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.
Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.
The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.
“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.
Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.
But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”
He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.
“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.
“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.
“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.
“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.
“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.
“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.
He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.
“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.
“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.
Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.
“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.
“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.
Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.
Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.
———
Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.
His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.
You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.
To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.
The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.
“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”
He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.
Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.
“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”
You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”
Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.
“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.
You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”
He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.
“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”
“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.
Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.
The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.
As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.
The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.
When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.
But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.
“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”
You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”
Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”
As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.
After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”
Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”
“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.
“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.
“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.
Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.
Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”
Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.
“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”
“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”
Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”
“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”
“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”
They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.
“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”
Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”
“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”
Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.
Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.
As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”
You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.
The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.
“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.
“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.
“I haven’t done anything—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”
You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”
Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”
Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.
The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.
“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.
“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.
He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.
———
Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.
Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.
He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.
By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.
Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.
“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”
He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.
Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.
“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”
You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”
Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.
“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.
Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”
Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.
“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.
©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024
1K notes · View notes
chunghasweetie · 8 months ago
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𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— part 1
— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk
— summary | after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, toxic fwb, lots cursing, jealousy, angst, ratchet behavior, dirty talk, angry sex, belittling, drinking, smoking🍃, womanizer behavior, breeding kink, both 🚩🚩 , daddy kink, degrading, slapping (face), false accusations, double standards
— word count | 6.2k words
— song suggestion | love you like me — william singe
He was blocked once again.
He didn’t even know for what this time.
Well, he had a good idea.
Running his mouth again. They always argued and he was always blocked and unblocked.
This time he think he actually irritated you.
“Goddamnit Y/n.” He cursed. He pissed you off once again but now his number and his Instagram was both blocked by you.
For some reason this time irked him more than the others.
“You’re still stressing over that girl?” Jimin plopped on the couch next to him.
“I can’t believe you still fuckin on her.” Taehyung walked in, taking a seat on the couch too.
“That’s my girl ya’ll know that.” Jungkook bit his lip, staring at his blank phone screen.
“You need to get like how you used to. 3 or more at a time. Always.” Jimin spoke, “You used to be like that. You used to make fun of guys like you. Now you’re giving out free shit to some girl.”
“I mean he does get pussy from it but like, only her bro?” Taehyung looked at Jungkook. “You used to have all these girls on you. Stephanie, Nari, Seunghee, Belle, Maya… What happened to you man?”
Jungkook thought about what they said. “Shits just different now.”
“Oh my gosh she’s ruined you.” Jimin groaned. “Nah man. We’re going to a Jackson party.”
“He’s having a party?” Jungkook looked up from his phone. “Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”
“Because you’re too busy stressin’ about some bitch.” Jimin shook his head.
Before Jungkook could correct him, Jimin corrected himself. “Some girl. Before you start.”
“Anyway, it’s tonight.” Taehyung spoke.
“So bring whatever cash you got and we’re definitely gonna send you home with a girl or two.” Jimin swung his arm around his shoulder.
“Oh shit I think she’s posting about you Jeon!” Taehyung was on her phone, immediately making Jungkook’s head snap over.
“Really?!”
“No man.” He laughed. “We really gotta get you more girls. You need more pussy than just her.”
“Yeah, no more Y/n.” Jimin shook his head.
“Whatever.”
༊—
“I’m so jealous.” Seungyeon swooned over the text messages on your phone.
“I don’t see why. This looks annoying as hell.” Elkie rolled her eyes.
Jungkook🍃
Wyd
Lemme come over
I got shit for you and your friends
Omg fucking answer
You’re mad annoying
I ain’t even mean what I said fr just reply 😭
“I think it’s cute. And hilarious.” Seungyeon chuckled. “What made you block him this time?”
“He was bragging about how many girls he sells to. How they’re all pretty and thick as hell. So I just said ‘cool’ and blocked him.” You shrugged.
You and your friends had been getting ready for hours for a Jackson Wang party they had personally been invited to.
“You better not hope he doesn’t pull up tonight.” Elkie spoke.
“Yeah Y/n. Taehyung’s going and I’m sure they’ll try to convince him.” Seungyeon told her.
“He’s probably too busy getting high in his room.” Elkie replied. “Or selling in the east side.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You shook your head. “I kinda do wish he would be there though.”
“Is his dick really that good?” Elkie asked you as she was baking her makeup.
“Unfortunately it is. Like, real good.” You started to get flashbacks.
“Here she goes.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes.
“He fucks me sooo good yall don’t get it.” You began. “Even though he’s annoying and shit I’ve never had dick like his. Once we started recording our shit I can’t stop rewatching.”
“You aren’t worried he’ll show people?” Elkie asked.
“They’re all on my phone. He only has a few. Even if he does show his homeboys it’s whatever. He’s damn near louder than me anyway.” You told her.
Your phone went off, making you look over at it to see the notification.
kplug🍃 has added you on Snapchat
“Oh my gosh.” You said out loud, immediately making the girls look over.
“He fucking added you on Snapchat!” Elkie laughed out loud, “He’s crazy”
“And on his plug account?” Seungyeon’s eyes widened. “He’s obsessed.•
“What can I say? This pussy makes him insane.” You jokingly boasted.
“Did you add him back?” Seungyeon asked.
“Nah not yet. I’ll wait until I’m almost done getting ready.” You tossed your phone on your bed.
“Yeah that’ll be better.” Elkie nodded.
“Ugh I need to hurry anyway. I’m tryna look good tonight.” You groaned, looking at your barely half done makeup.
No matter what it was, you loved to look good. You were a confident woman who took pride in her appearance.
Tonight mattered. You hadn’t took good pictures in quite some time and Jackson’s party was the best place to take them at.
You had just changed up your hair last night. You had a brown base with blonde highlights. And for tonight you decided to add gold and bronze tinsel to elevate your look.
Your friends always had the same energy, wanting to look as good as they could even if it was a simple occasion.
Seungyeon and Elkie definitely showed out with you tonight.
You all had skimpier outfits on tonight. You were a low cut brown latex top with a matching black mini skirt.
Your heels were black and the strings wrapped up around your mid calf. You sprayed your expensive perfume all over, making sure you smelt as good as you looked.
Your makeup was finally done for the night and it couldn’t have looked better. You looked incredible.
The girls had taken some pre party pics in your room, posting on all social media.
“Oh Y/n! Add him back.” Seungyeon told you.
You nodded, adding Jungkook back on Snapchat.
“He’s gonna see all our videos at the party. He’s gonna regret saying all that shit to you.” Elkie laughed. “Gonna see so many dudes all up on you and start punching walls and shit.”
“He probably already is and we haven’t even left the house yet.” Seungyeon laughed with her. “The pictures we posted right now are enough to make him tear his hair out.”
“Damn right.” You giggled. “Yall got everything? I’m about to order the Uber.”
Both girls nodded, making sure they had everything they needed.
kplug🍃 just sent you a snap
You looked at the notification, “Hm.” You hummed to yourself, not opening his snap quite yet.
Once the uber pulled up all of the girls climbed in, taking more pictures in the backseat on the drive there.
You lived in a nice area, but nothing compared to Jackson’s place.
The location was one of his many homes,
“Jackson lives so far from us.” Elkie looked at the map on her phone.
“Yeah but his area is so nice. It’s worth it.” Seungyeon added. “I wonder how many people are gonna be there.”
“Girl you know it’s gonna be so packed we gonna have to get dropped off damn near a mile away.” You laughed.
“You better hope Jungkook doesn’t show up.” Elkie looked over at you, who was just opening his snap.
The snap was him a car, sitting in a car full of tackily dressed women right corner of him. One of the girls was taking the picture for him.
“I should’ve just shut up.” Elkie covered her mouth. “They’re definitely going.”
“He’s petty as hell!” Seungyeon looked over at your screen. “What does he expect you to say to that?”
“Probably nothing.” Y/n turned off the phone. “He wants to be like that he can go right ahead.”
“You’re so cool about it.” Seungyeon looked at her in amazement. “I would’ve went batshit crazy.”
“I’m not trippin because I’m not holding back at this party.” She laughed.
༊—
“Why would you guys do me like this?”
“You’re so dramatic.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We found you a car full of girls to take to the party and you’re complaining.”
“Didn’t ask for it. Y’all make me look like a charity case. I could’ve gotten plenty at Jackson’s.”
“Whatever.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You know how much play she’s gonna get there? And you’re gonna have to watch it alllll.”
“Yeah man. You’re gonna have to watch all sorts of dudes kissing up on her and shit. You’re gonna look like a bitch.” Jimin added.
“Exactly. So let us help you bro.” Taehyung smiled. “Come on it’ll be worth it. Plus, you look great man. She’ll be unblocking you in no time.”
Jungkook and the boys got in the car full of women, instantly leeching onto them.
“Hello ladies” Jimin greeted, buckling up.
“Hiii Jiminnn” They replied in union, almost fighting to talk to him.
One of them turned to Jungkook, immediately biting her lip. “Hey Kookie.”
“Hey Oliver.” He exhaled.
“It’s Olivia” She laughed. “You’re like— so funny!” Her annoying voice rang in his ears.
“Oh— my bad.”
The girls had tried talking Jungkook the entire ride there, trying to get him to open up and talk to them.
“Ouuu look at his phone.” One of the girls motioned.
“Omg look!” One was quick to snatch his phone, “He added Y/n on Snapchat, let’s send her something!”
“You guys should!” Taehyung added.
“No one needs to do that!” Jungkook tried to take it back but they already snapped pictures and sent them to Y/n on his phone.
Olivia passed the phone to Taehyung who kept repeating ‘give it to me’
“Taehyung what the hell!”
“It’s for your own good!” Taehyung held onto his phone for the rest of the ride there.
༊—
“Yep. I’m definitely gonna get sloppy drunk.” Seungyeon announced as they walked inside Jackson’s party.
“There’s no way you won’t. This shits fucking cool.” Elkie looked around the home.

People everywhere and the music was booming in all corners. Girls dancing damn near naked on tables and guys dancing around with empty shot glasses.
“Oh my gosh they’re here!” One of the guys accidentally said a bit too loud, making some heads turn towards the girls.
“Seungyeon come dance with us!”
“Y/n come on we already have shots for you!”
“Elkie come get on the table with us!”
Multiple people were trying to holler at them in attempt to get their attention.
“Yeah it’ll be hard to stay sober tonight.” Elkie laughed.
“Uh huh. And when Taehyung gets here I’m dipping.” Seungyeon giggled.
“You’re still fucking with him?!” Both girls snapped their heads.
“Y’all don’t get it! He is soooo fine whenever he talks to me I just wanna do whatever the hell he wants.” Seungyeon swooned.
“She can’t be serious.” Elkie looked at you. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking on Taehyung and you’re fucking on Jungkook. Should I just dance with Jimin tonight? Since we’re the three musketeers all of a sudden.”
“Okay Jungkook was an accident!” You defended. “You wanted weed didn’t you!”
“Cut the crap! It was one time” Elkie shook her head. “I can’t believe you two.”
“Whatever.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “You should go with me when I go talk to Taehyung. Omg! We can all hang out tonight!”
“Uh, did you forget we’re not on the best terms?” You interrupted her fantasy.
“You never are. Get over it.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “Elkie pleaseeee.”
“I can’t believe you.” Elkie kept shaking her head. “You guys are sick.”
“Who’s sick?” A voice interrupted them. “I don’t need any illness spreading around at my party.”
“Omg Jackson!” Seungyeon gasped.
“Hey ladies. Hey Y/n.” He gave you a side hug. “I knew you guys would come showing out.”
“Always. You know us.” Elkie giggled.
Jackson knew the girls very well. They’ve been around since his early party days, helping him promote and build up his status for the parties.
You always went above and beyond for him, offering to even financially support the parties during the time.
Now Jackson was so rich his party budget skyrocketed. All because of those girls he was able to be where he was now. He was more than grateful.
“I know. I shouldn’t have expected any less.” He chuckled, “I’ll tell the security upstairs about yall so don’t sweat anything okay?”
“You got new security?” You questioned him.
“Fuck yeah I did. Last party the security was too drunk to even do their fucking job. I was pissed.” Jackson shook his head.
“Everything’s all good now though,” He continued. “Gotta nice new set up and it’ll do y’all real good. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You ladies have fun, okay?”
“Thank you Jackson.” The three girls bid their goodbyes. They didn’t expect to speak to him for long, especially since he was running a huge party.
“Let’s hang out down here for a bit and then make our way up yeah?” You suggested, earning a nod from the girls.
“Unless it’s too hard for Seungyeon to keep herself away from Taehyungie” Elkie teased her.
“Oh my gosh I hate you.” Seungyeon groaned.
“Speaking of Taehyungie,” You eyes behind her. “Here comes the man of the hour now.”
“With a shit ton of girls at that.”
Seungyeon snapped her head his way. “Oh my gosh.”
“Don’t look!” Elkie turned her attention. “Act unbothered. You can’t let him know you care. Like Y/n when Jungkook calls!”
“Yeah— Okay whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “But she’s right. He’s with hella girls. He’s not thinking about you right now. You can’t act like you’re waiting for him.”
“Look at you miss love expert.” Elkie teased you. “Let’s get you drinking Seungyeon.”
“Yes! Let’s drink! Finally.” You clapped your hands.
The girls walked off to the bar, plenty of people wanting to take shots with them.
The girls played a few drinking games and partied on tables just like the girls before you.
It would be a lie to say Jungkook’s eyes weren’t locked on you.
It was just him, Taehyung, and Jungkook in their own little section, a few guys coming up to talk to them here and there.
“Oh my gosh I hate you guys.” Jimin groaned. “Taehyung you can’t do this to me too.”
“She’s so bad Jimin. I’m almost as bad as Jeon.” Taehyung stared down Seungyeon.
“I thought you wanted to drown yourself in pussy! You were hyping me and Jungkook up earlier!”
“I’m a big fat liar okay!” Taehyung folded.
Seungyeon and you were both dancing on tables, lost in your own little world with drinks in your hands.
Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a minute. Simply staring.
Damn did you show out.
He watched as many guys threw themselves at you, begging you to come down so they could have a piece.
What could he expect? You were a beautiful woman blessed with a body others would pay millions for. You could actually dance and you had looks that could kill.
You were a heavily desirable woman. Especially at a party like this where everyone knew of you.
He knew you weren’t gonna go home with any of these guys. None of them stood a chance.
He didn’t understand how he had one if he was honest.
The way you two started— having intercourse was wild and random. Just a random string of flirty led to you giving it up for him.
Goddamnit he missed you. It was a petty argument like usual. Him getting blocked just to get unblocked in the morning.
This time bothered him more than the others. Especially seeing you like this.
“Shoutout to these lovely ladies right here!” Jackson suddenly announced, all three girls surrounding him.
“My day ones right here” He said proudly.
Jackson wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.
Interesting.
Jungkook hadn’t realized you two had become so close.
Was he the reason Jungkook wasn’t unblocked yet?
“Especially Ms. Y/n here. Shit would not be possible without her.” He spoke, making everyone cheer. “Everyone treat them well tonight alright?”
Elkie and Seungyeon cheered before Jackson walked off, finishing his announcement.
Why would it not be possible without you?
None of it made sense to Jungkook.
He downed a shot, hissing at the aftermath. It made Jimin look over.
“Someone’s mad.”
“Shut up.” Jungkook huffed. “I have no reason to be.”
The girls were laughing together and drinking a bit more.
Seungyeon kept stealing glances at Taehyung.
“Oh my gosh. She’s going insane.” Elkie pointed out Seungyeon’s constant tabs on Taehyung.
“Alright we’re going upstairs.” You motioned both girls to follow you to the next story.
“Jimin we have to follow them.” Taehyung watched as they left to go upstairs.
The man rolled his eyes.
Jungkook looked over, seeing Jackson look over that way too.
“Yeah.” Jungkook opened up his mouth. “Let’s go.”
The boys shortly followed them, heading upstairs.
This level was just as intense as the first floor. The only difference was that these people smoked a bit more than they drank.
“So many bad bitches in here.” Jimin looked around. “Nice move Tae.”
“Man who cares? Where the hell is she?” Taehyung looked over.
“Goddamnit.” Jimin cursed, forced to walk over to your friend group with Taehyung.
Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled either. Especially because he didn’t know how you were going to be like.
“Hey Seungyeon.” Taehyung approached her, making her instantly turn her head.
Poor girl had been waiting for that man to talk to her all night.
“Oh. Hey.” She kept it short, just like you and Elkie told her to.
“Let me get you and your girl friends some more drinks yeah?” He offered, making it harder to fight and say no.
“Please.” She caved in, making everyone follow them to the bar.
“Fucking great.” Jimin mumbled.

It was awkward as hell. Two odd couples and two random friends all forced to hang out together.
All because of Seungyeon and Taehyung.
Taehyung got all of them drinks like he said, everyone drinking together to ease up a bit.
Taehyung and Seungyeon were lost in their own conversation.
They were so corny it was making everyone extremely nauseous.
“Are you proud of her?” Jimin shook his head, speaking to Elkie. “Your friend single-handedly ruined my friend group.”
“My friend? Your boy here started it all.” She argued.
“Like hell he did. She took advantage of him.” He told her.
She laughed. “Who’s the one who’s supposed to just drop the shit off and go?”
“You can’t blame a man for just tryna get some.” Jimin shrugged. “Not his fault.”
“You’re delusional.” Elkie rolled her eyes.
“I like how you speak to me. You wanna go make out?”
“Sure.” Elkie shrugged, walking off with Jimin.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
You were alone with Jungkook.
“So,” You began to speak. “Which girl in the car was your favorite?”
“Is that seriously how you’re gonna start this?” Jungkook stared you down.
“Hell yeah.” You chuckled. “You’re a fucking prick. You’re childish and you’re just down right stupid. Sending me some photo of some bitches. Made you feel so good being with other girls huh?”
Started off strong already.
“You know what, it did. They didn’t have a fucking loud mouth like you do. Didn’t have to hear a bunch of bullshit every two seconds.”
“See this is exactly why you’re blocked.” You scoffed. “You’re a dick.”
“You block me all the time mama.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean shit.”
“Probably doesn’t mean anything because you’re too busy with all those other bitches.”
“Me? I’m not the one fucking the party host.” He argued back.
Your eyes widened at the accusation. “Oh wow.”
You weren’t going to deny it.
It wasn’t true. You never slept with Jackson.
But Jungkook thinking that you did was enough to satisfy you.
“We’ll come back to that.” Jungkook poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue.
He was obviously very irritated.
“You’re always so angry.” You groaned.
“Because you just manage to strike that one nerve.” He shook his head.
“You’re so aggressive all the time baby.” You eased him. “Let’s drink some more. Please?”
He shook his head. “Trying to sober up. Someone needs to take you home.”
“I can Uber back.”
“By yourself?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. Your friends are long gone and most likely gonna end up going home with Jimin and Tae. Who can’t drive.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Elkie and Seungyeon were going to town on them. The couples were drunken messes.
You agreed, continuing to drink. You two talked for a bit, somewhat civilly.
The both of you couldn’t help but check each other out.
For you, that alcohol came in through your mouth and went straight to your pussy.
Jungkook’s going straight to his dick. Probably why you two always had sex whenever you hung out.
“Let’s go to Jimin’s car.” Jungkook mumbled lowly to you, making you nod.
Jungkook lets out a low whistle as you walk next to him. He couldn't help but stare at your body.
You were so fucking beautiful, he thought to himself.
The car was a bit far from the entrance. The lot was big so the parking was a bit inconvenient.
However, it was hidden well enough.
He opened the backseat car door for you, waiting for you to get in.
You could sense he was still irritated with you. It was written all over his face and you could sense it in his body language.
His anger and irritation had the opposite effect on you, making your pussy wetter than it already was.
Jungkook started the car, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.
He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body. "You know, you make me so fucking angry sometimes..." He growled, his hand reaching over to grab your thigh.
“It’s not my fault. You started it this time.” You shook your head.
"I didn't start shit," Jungkook retorted, his eyes narrowing at you. "You did. You always fucking do."
He couldn't help but get more and more irritated with you.
The idea of you and Jackson weighed heavy on him.
You were fucking Jungkook for weed. Were you fucking Jackson for drinks and party invites?
“You did last night. That’s exactly why I blocked your ass. Always running your mouth.”
Jungkook's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He couldn't believe you just said that. "You didn't have to block me. You’re so fucking dramatic."
He snapped at you, his anger getting the best of him. "I fucking hate you sometimes."
“Fine. Just drop me off right here then.” You replied, just as irritated with him now. “I’ll fucking walk home.”
“You're not fucking walking anywhere. I'll take you home." He gritted his teeth.
“Whatever. Just drive me home and you can just get rid of me after. Since that’s what you want so bad.” You folded your arms.
He couldn't believe how much of a stubborn girl you were, but he still couldn't help feeling attracted to you. Even when you were like this. "Why are you so fucking difficult?"
He glared at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.
“I’m not even doing anything.” You grabbed your purse once he pulled up to your place.
It was natural for Jungkook to let himself in. He did so again, despite their arguing.
“I thought you would approach me at the party to apologize. But no, you’re just arguing with me because you’re jealous of some guy!” You huffed.
Jungkook scoffed at your words. "Jealous? Fuck no. I just don't like seeing you with other guys, that's it."
“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re annoying. Your stupid pride won’t let you just admit it.”
You lifted up the couch cushion, a small bag of pre rolls packed away.
“You know what? Fine. I was jealous when I saw you with Jackson. Are you happy now? I fucking admitted it.
“Gonna fucking smoke with me or what?” She looked at him, ignoring him. “Got your two favorite things right here. Weed and arguing.”
He ignored her, grabbing his own preroll and lighting it up with her lighter.
“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He scoffed.
“Do you want a fucking cookie? Congrats, you actually told me the truth for once.” She took a few hits. “So you were jealous”
“Yeah, I fucking was. I don't like seeing you with other guys Y/n. It makes me want to rip their fucking heads off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Especially him.”
“Isn’t Jackson your homeboy?”
“Exactly. Why the fuck would I want to be fucking on the same girl as my bro? That makes me look like a fucking loser.” He glared at you.
“We were just catching up. We’ve known each other for mad long.” You defended.
Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you as you took a hit from the roll. He felt a surge of jealousy, but he tried to push it down.
"Just fucking catchin' up huh? With his bitch ass?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I know what kinda guy he is.”
“I know you’re not talking. Tell me, Jungkook. How many girls do you sell to that don’t pay cash? Too busy selling with their bodies.” She looked at him.
“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking start this shit again?” He chuckled, anger written all over his face. “I’ve told you the same shit over and over Y/n. I’m not fucking anyone else but you.”
“Car full of sleezy bitches all climbing on you? Yeah okay. Find that fucking hard to believe.
Jungkook understands your skepticism. Especially with the type of guys he hung around.
“Tell me this Jungkook.” You began, “How come it’s an issue when I’m with Jackson but when you’re with all these other girls I’m just supposed to believe you.”
Jungkook leaned in, his expression more serious now. He muttered. “I don’t want to do you like that.”
"I just get fucking pissed when I see other guys trying to fuck what's mine." He cocked his eyebrow.
“You’re annoying.”
Jungkook's gaze never left yours face as you rolled your eyes. He could tell you were irritated with him, but he didn't back down.
"I'm annoying cause I don't like seeing other guys around my girl?" He raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t like all these fucking guys tryna hop on you.” His eyes darkened as he stared down at you.
“I get it.” She sighed.
“Mm I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.
Jungkook turned you around, pushing you against the couch. "Fuck you piss me off. You’re just so fucking sexy" He growled, pinning your hands above your head.
"You're gonna let me fuck you like this?” He looked at you. “Because I’m fucking angry. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that slow and lovey shit right now.”
You simply nodded. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was going to happen.
Weed made you horny.
Alcohol made you horny.
And you were definitely cross faded.
“Fucking open your mouth.” He moved his hand, now slapping you across your cheek.
It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a sting.
He seen your facial expression change. “No way. You actually like that shit?”
You two always had rough and angry sex. With the amount of times you two pissed each other off, it was like second nature.
This time was different. Jungkook was livid.
“I do.” You swallowed. “N-No condom tonight please.”
This was the first time ever. You never thought those words would ever leave your lips.
You needed it bad tonight. Real bad.
“Oh wow.” He laughed sarcastically. “You’re that sick? You get onto me every fucking day for asking to hit it raw. Now you want to?”
He almost couldn’t believe it. “Letting me toss you around like a fucking ragdoll. He fucking teach you about that shit?”
“N-No Jungkook.”
He slapped you once again. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I promise. He didn’t.” You pleaded.
Jungkook let out a deep breath, knowing you submitted to him.
He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing enough for you to feel.
“Fucking embarrassing me.” He slid his pants down. “Got all my fucking friends talking about you. That what you wanted?”
“N-No.” You swallowed.
He slipped your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side.
He forcefully pushed himself inside, giving you not a single warning. “You let him fuck you raw did you?”
Staying still for a moment, knowing he would soon start fucking you with all the frustration he had in him.
“N-No I didn’t Jungkook.” You honestly replied.
“Not my fucking name.” He warned.
“You clearly wanted his attention Y/n. You think I ain’t notice that shit today?” His grip on your neck got slightly tighter.
“Changed your hair. Spending money to look good for him. Didn’t look in my fucking direction once. Get some new dick and you forget what you already have? Forgot about daddy’s dick?” He scoffed.
Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.
“T-That’s not what I—“
Jungkook's grip tightened on your hips, as he started thrusting. "Shut the fuck up Y/n." He grumbled, as he started pounding harder.
He smacked your ass, leaving a red mark. "Didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight. Figured he stretched this pussy out.”
“H-He didn’t”
“You really have the fucking guys to speak to me right now?” He slapped her.
“Mmph— sorry daddy”
Jungkook grinned, hearing the slight tremble in your voice.
You couldn’t help but be turned on by how angry he was. How degrading he spoke to you.
Him expressing how jealous he was of Jackson definitely did a number on you.
"This.. is all yours, Y/n. It always has been." He slapped your face. "Don't.. you dare fuckin' look at him again. Don’t you fuckin’
dare question if I’m with other bitches or not.”
“Won’t— promise Daddy” She apologized.
Jungkook's expression changed to an angered confusion, as you apologized. "Sorry? You think.. You fuckin' deserve my mercy?"
He hissed as he stopped thrusting, grabbed you and forced you on all four. "I'll show you fuckin' sorry."
“You're mine to fuck. Mine to spoil. Mine to hug. Mine to love.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, as he started thrusting hard again. "And you just fucking gave that away?”
“No I— Daddy no I didn’t.” You whimpered.
Jungkook's thrusts became more violent as his anger continued to fuckin boil. "You.. You fuckin' slut," He growled and smacked your ass hard once again.
“D-Didn’t fuck him.” You confessed, swallowing. “N-Never fucked him.”
Jungkook stopped thrusting, his expression was furious, he looked at you with pure shock.
"You didn't fuck him?" He repeated between gritted teeth, not entirely sure if he should believe you or not. “Are you serious?”
“N-Never fucked him.” She hit her lip.
“So you lied?” His voice was low.
“I just never denied anything you said.” She confessed, a bit ashamed now that she was confessing out loud.
"Wow Y/n." He murmured lowly, making a pause in his thrusts, as he looked at you with confusion and shock. "And you made me do all this.”
“I-“ She felt her stomach drop.
Jungkook scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was still holding you by the throat, a little tighter now as his cock started to thrust intensely again. "Yeah, you did.”
Jungkook grunted, his thrusts became louder and more intense, holding you tighter. "You're a fucking slut.."
He whispered in a low voice, his hand starting to squeeze around your throat. He pulled himself out a bit to slap your face.
“Pulled all that just for some dick? Seriously Y/n?” He grunted into your ear.
“So sorry Daddy” She apologized softly, the sensual nickname slipping from her lips.
Upon hearing you call him "Daddy" his thrusts became more intense. Hearing it made him weak everytime.
A low growl sounded out from his throat again as your body was pushed back onto the bed with each thrust deeper into you.
He snickered, his hand reaching down to slap your ass cheek, hard. "You're a fucking whore.." He moans, his thrusts are so hard that he's smacking against your body. He leaned in to bite your neck.
“Finally got the dick you wanted? I can’t fucking believe you pulled that shit.” He grunted, utterly shocked. “Can’t fucking believe you did that.”
His thrusts became even more forceful, each hard smack against your ass echoing around you.
He moans as he bites into your shoulder, teeth grinding into your skin angrily. "Why'd you fucking lie to me?" He growls into your ear.
“Wanted you— Wanted your attention.” She whimpered. “Wanted to see how you felt.”
“Yeah? That’s how you fuckin’ wanted me to confess?” He roars out angrily, his grip tightening almost painfully.
“I-It worked…” She boldly whispered.
His glare is fire as he grabs your throat, pulling you back to look into your eyes.
"You like it when I get tell you how I feel? You fuckin’ like it?” He growls out, squeezing your throat tighter for a moment before letting go.
“I liked it Daddy” She bit her lip.
His jaw almost cracks from the intensity of his teeth grinding as he hears your response.
He begins to fuck you harder, losing his anger and going into a frenzy. "You’re so fucking lucky I love to abuse this pussy.”
“Shit feels so fuckin’ good Daddy— Fuck” She cursed repeatedly.
A low groan rips from his throat, feeling your walls squeezing around him at your curse. He liked when you talked dirty. “So fucking pretty like this.”
“Lying about other dudes is different for you baby..” He huffed. “You love this dick huh baby? Tell me.”
“Yes Daddy— I fuckin’ do.” You nodded quickly.
He leans back down, biting at your bottom lip and nodding.
"That's right, you love this dick, mama. Fucking take it then." He spoke lowly, encouraging you to get more vocal and naughty while he pounds into you.
“Feels so much fucking better raw.” She rolled her eyes back. “Should’ve fucking let you months ago.”
He lets out a growl, feeling how tight your walls are on him with no condom. He nods, agreeing and liking the feeling of you raw.
"That's right mama. You ain’t believe me when I said you were the only one. Should’ve been let me hit it raw.” He chuckled. “Gonna fuck you so good now though."
He's on the brink of losing it, he knows he's about to cum soon.
He looks down at you who’s absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.
He curses, slowing down just a tad. "You fucking loving that we're doing it raw now?”
“Feels so much fucking better now. W-Want you to cum inside too.” You begged, making his eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“W-Want it so bad I— Please.”
He groans, loving the idea at your request. “Pretty girl gonna let me cum inside, I couldn’t ask for more.”
He speeds up a little bit, slamming into you roughly and grunting. "That's right, fucking want my cum? Wanna turn mama into more than just a nickname huh?”
He dirty talked her so good.
“Mm yes Daddy yes.” She swallowed.
His eyes grow wide at the idea but he smirks while he continues to thrust into you hard, making a dirty scene in his head.
"That's right, I wanna fill your womb up with my kids, make them from your tight fucking pussy, don't fight it mama. So close” He mumbled in her ear.
“Shit I’m close too.”
He knows he's close too, groaning almost in pain from not cumming yet. He continues to fuck you relentlessly as you near the edge.
"Shit! Cum on my cock mama, you need to cum, you want to cum so bad don't you?"
“Cumming fuck” She immediately let go of the feeling building up in her stomach.
He's right on the edge with you, his cock swells up before he pulls out and shoots his hot load to the side of your stomach, he's not ready for kids, at least not yet.
He slumps backwards and curses. "Fucking shit.”
The two were panting on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths.
She panted. “I’m sorry for lying Jungkook. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”
He smirks and shakes his head but still looks at you with an amused expression.
"No need to apologize momma, we're fucking both dirty. Besides we both liked it didn't we?" He winks and wraps an arm around you.
“You’re really not mad?”
“I mean it irritated me a lot when I thought you fucked him.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved now.”
“When I told you I haven’t been with anyone else I meant it.” You told him. “That’s not
something I would lie about. Especially after I pressed you for so long.”
“I know. When I seen him touch you like that I just— I thought I lost you.” He looked at you. “I just kinda thought you were using me.”
“It’s not about weed for me anymore Jungkook.” You swallowed. “It hasn’t been for a while.”
“It was never about the weed for me.” He confessed. “I just wanted to see you since the beginning.”
“You thought that was a secret?” You couldn’t help but snort.
“Okay I’m never being vulnerable with you again.” He shook his head.
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euphoricimagination · 1 year ago
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𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 - Part 2
Feat. Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani
Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her
Aoba Johsai
Since Seijoh’s volleyball club was very popular among the students, the coach had no problems in looking for someone to be there while you weren’t
In fact, the coach found two, mostly because there were a lot of duties during that week
Unnecessary in the eyes of the team, they were fine before you, they don’t need two of them now
Not even a day passed when the team were dreading this decision; not only they were Oikawa fans to begin with, but they were also annoying
Even Oikawa couldn’t find joy in this situation
The normally heartthrob of the team, the one that adores receiving attention, couldn’t stand them, missing your *playful* punches and scoldings
You luckily were able to hang out with them after their Sunday practice, when it had become a tradition to go to the nearest shopping mall to eat a meal as a team
So to surprise them, you went there without them, planning to raid their table
When you saw them walking into the food court you couldn’t help but giggle, one girl was holding the arm of a very disgusted Oikawa, while the other was clearly acting like a dude alongside an annoyed Iwaizumi, everyone else ignoring them
You started looking at the menus, deciding what to eat, ordering a burger and some fries
“Wow, you’re eating…that? Someone is not thinking about hot girls summer” you hear from your left, one of the girls looking at you as if you were committing a sin
“yeah I don’t care”
“That’s all you’re getting? I could not eat only that, I’m ordering like 6 burgers” another voice comes from your other side, the other girl was there too
“…ok” you say, starting to understand why the team was so fed up with them. The team looks mean, but they were never unnecessary rude
“can I have a salad? I wish I could eat..that, but I’m too worried about how I look, you know” the girl in your left says
“I just got done playing volleyball with the team, so I need like…6.000.000 calories, imagine only eating a salad” the other says, making you sigh
“I love your make up, by the way! It’s so…natural, I wish I had the confidence to not care about how I look on public, good for you!” the girl says with a sarcastic tone
“imagine even wearing make up every day and trying that hard, like I just roll out of bed an-”
“I don’t care about any of your thoughts, so shut up please” you say annoyed, you didn’t know if you were annoyed, uncomfortable or straight up angry, but before you could add anything else an arm wraps your shoulder
“Yn-chaan!” Oikawa squishes you
“Yn-san, you’re here!” Kindaichi exclaims, relief appearing on his face. Kunimi gets slightly closer to you, a move that means that he wants some type of affection, so you pat his head
“Y-you know her?” the princess type of girl asks, eyes wide
“She is our dear manager” Matsukawa adds, Hanamaki nodding with a smirk that only grew bigger when the girl shrieks
“H-her?! But she looks so weak! And I bet she doesn’t know shit about sports! Like.. she’s a girl!” the ‘tomboy’ girl says now
“don’t get too comfortable now, you were just a substitute for her, not the other way around. She is the best manager we could ever ask for” Oikawa says mockingly, hugging you tighter
“b-b-but…”
“you can leave now, we have our manager back, we don’t need you two here anymore” Iwaizumi ends the conversation, taking your tray with food as they all take you to the table
“I still have a few days that I can’t be there” you tell them once you were sitting
“we’ll manage” Iwaizumi says
“What Yn-chaan? Are you sure you aren’t missing this handsome face of mi-ouch!” Oikawa tries to say, but you punch him making the team laugh
You were at peace again
Fukurodani
Despite having another managers in their rooster, the coach decided to ask the manager of other team to help them out
After all the team is big, so another hand wouldn’t be bad
The team was nice, so they did try their best to make her feel welcome eve if it was for a week and a half
But she was making things hard
Washio tried to be a gentleman, but he ended up not interacting much with her
Konoha, in the other hand, was sarcastic, but she was either too dense or too delusional to realize
Akaashi tried to be understanding, but even he was starting to get tired of it
And Bokuto, even with his loud and extroverted personality, ended up just trying to avoid her
When you came back, you had the *amazing* opportunity to meet her first hand, right after entering the gym
What the guys have told you wasn’t particularly encouraging, yet you still wanted to give her a fair shot
“Why are you looking at me? It’s just a knee brace, you never seen something like this?” she tells you, before you could even say hi
“well, hi, nice to meet you too”
“So…you are the manager? The one that I’m replacing? Well, of course you don’t know what this is, since you don’t play any sports”
“well, before I kinda did some cheerleading, but it wasn't for me so I joined this idiots and…”
“exactly! Cheerleading isn’t a sport! Gosh, how are you even the manager of this team”
“Yn!!” Bokuto enters the gym, hugging you tightly as he spins around. Akaashi was behind, who gives you a smile
“If you were wondering! I got injured by playing football…and then basketball and then volleyball with the boys, remember that Bokuto?!”
“eh..nope” bokuto answers confused
“Well me neither”
“anyways! I’m back on the team, so thank you for…well, being here. I’ll take care of it from here on out…unless the guys want you to stay..?” you say
“NO!” a collective answer came in, way too quickly. You resisted a laugh
“well, that settles it, good luck with your knee brace” you push her out softly, a grunt coming from her
“Thank god you’re back Yn-chan” Akaashi tells you, the team patting your head lovingly
“we should celebrate! After practice lets go to eat!” Bokuto adds
“okay! Bokuto is paying!” Konoha says, going to the court to start practicing
You see bokuto whine as he goes too, everyone joining while making fun of the owl boy.
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charliemwrites · 8 months ago
Text
Part 2!
Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.
Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)
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Agatha is over again.
You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.
A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.
Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.
“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.
You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.
“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.
She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.
“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”
People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.
“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.
Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”
You blink. Men…?
A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)
Ah. Those men.
“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”
It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.
“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”
You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.
“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.
“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”
Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.
“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”
That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.
“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”
You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.
Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.
“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”
You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.
“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”
She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.
Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.
It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.
Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.
“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”
And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.
And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.
Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.
Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.
“So… the cookies were good then?”
“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.
“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”
It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“
“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.
Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)
“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.
You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”
He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”
Well shit.
“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”
Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”
It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.
There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.
Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.
You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.
Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.
You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.
“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.
He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.
“What happened?” he asks.
You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.
“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”
You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.
“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.
Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.
“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”
When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.
“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”
With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.
You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.
“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.
He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”
You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”
“Nein,” he snorts.
Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.
There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.
“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”
“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”
You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?
It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.
“Are you guys military?”
“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.
You perk up. “Wait, really?”
He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”
You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”
He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.
“Yes,” he answers slowly.
“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”
His eyes narrow. “Questions?”
You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”
Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.
He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”
You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”
He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.
“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.
Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”
“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.
You beam. “Thank you!”
He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.
“What else needs doing?”
Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.
Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.
You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.
Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.
You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.
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dollopole · 3 months ago
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There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.
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And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.
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Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).
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I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:
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“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.
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Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.
And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.
And they do:
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I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.
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The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.
He has Arthur to protect.
The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.
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Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.
Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.
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Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.
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a-shadowedvales · 1 year ago
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So… in the additional media of Stranger Things (specifically the comics I’m mentioning), it was initially Brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as Eleven was. It was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. And I just…. sure Henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but I think I am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.
I genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and Brenner is far more intriguing than the show. Everything with 9/9.5, Ricky, and Francine. Eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. Those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. Eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. And they all had such a range of interesting powers. I firmly stand with the idea that Jane is the only one who can contact The Void.
Brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out Terry was pregnant. He discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. There would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. Because of this, I would not put it past a man like Brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” aka Eleven. Eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. Brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.
Back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because Jane was 011. So there were at least ten kids before her. But I always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. That they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. With flying colours.
I just think the whole Rainbow Room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. Boring and predictable. I think at this point my portrayal of her time in Hawkins Lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. Where having the Rainbow Room, although Eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. Albeit extremely warped and toxic. Knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. Doesn’t sit well with me. I think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. Which is why Kali is also so important to her growth. I thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. Although Peter becoming Vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.
Maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, Peter Ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. But before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. Peter is shot on the spot, and Eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. In this timeline, Henry would be Vecna, but Henry would not be Peter Ballad.
When Eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, Brenner had the eight children killed. Kali had already escaped. This was the main cause for Peter to gain Eleven’s trust and try to get her out. Because if Brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way Eleven was safe even in spite of her power.
When Eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with Peter. Brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a Peter, that she must have been dreaming. Eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given Peter told her of the day Terry broke in the lab, but Brenner is convincing enough to make Eleven believe it was all in her head. Say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.
I still do wanna keep the Henry Creel canon, and keep him as 001. Brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. Brenner definitely wants to be able to control Henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. Killing him would be too big of a loss.
When Eleven is ten years old, Henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto Hawkins Lab. He almost kills Brenner by snapping his bones, but Eleven manages to stop him. Her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends Henry to the Upside Down. She does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. Brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat Henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. Eleven is rewarded for her efforts. Although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.
Brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. Also loved the idea of Brenner sending her into The Void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.
By the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the Upside Down is basically what we see in canon. Because she passed out the moment after she sent Henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. For two years she believed this, until making contact with the Demogorgan, and those memories return completely.
Due to her saving Brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. She happened to be there. Saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) Brenner constantly thanks her. But in a very condescending way. Tells her: “you saved me so I can continue saving you.” Aka, harness your abilities and see what else I can achieve from you. Despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. That she owes him something further.
I don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. Her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. Surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. Her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with Henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. It makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.
It also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. They would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. As far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. Everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with Benny, I'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. Where she followed the boys home without thought.
Also it's important to note that after time, Jane does understand that Peter Ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from Terry) who wanted the best for her. When she remembers him, knows that Brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. He was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. This is another catalyst as to why after season two, Jane never refers to Brenner as papa. She does not give him that sort of credit.
#study.#although henry offering eleven a place at his side wouldn’t be canon#he would definitely still look at her as an enemy for basically stopping his revenge.#AND the whole speech between he and jane never sat right with me.#saying brenner made him what he was / that it wasnt his fault etc. Like. No? henry was a sociopath. he killed his family.#brenner didn’t do anything to make him who he is. so jane always saw him for exactly what he was#and there’s absolutely no sympathy there.#and then regarding my season four canon as her regaining her powers by remembering the massacre/the fight. i am changing that to her#regaining her powers by simply confronting her past. understanding what she went through. finding ways to cope with it physically and#mentally. getting coping mechanisms from her therapist. seeking help. not needing to know WHY this happened to her (because there is not.#and will never be a reason.) but finding ways to accept it and move on. how to move on from eleven and become janessa ives.#also just because in this case henry doesn’t massacre a bunch of kids? It doesn’t make him any less evil. in this instance i am following#the idea that some of the workers were prisoners there in hawkins lab. and henry killed a bunch of the workers. so would definitely have#killed some innocent people.#just because i am separating peter from henry. does NOT mean i am excusing anything from henry/vecna.#in this case they are two completely different people. although i highkey wanna use jcb as peter because he just did the role SO WELL and#was SO BELIEVABLE i’m not sure about it yet. because i don’t want anyone to get the impression that i’m making excuses for henry.#BUT YES.#this be the new canon. <3#idc brenner is such a good fuckin villain he’s disgusting but so intriguing.
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lightseoul · 2 months ago
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CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK
w.c. 3.8k
tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up
a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!
links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)
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You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.
Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.
You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.
Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.
Even if it means looking like this.
You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.
With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.
Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?
You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.
Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.
His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.
“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.
“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”
And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”
He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.
And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.
“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”
At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.
Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.
“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”
That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”
You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”
And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?
You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”
To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”
Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”
Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.
Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.
“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.
“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.
You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”
“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.
The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”
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The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.
Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.
Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.
And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.
Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.
“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.
After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.
The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.
Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Sorry,” you offer meekly.
He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”
You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”
“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”
You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.
You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.
Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.
For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?
“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”
If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.
And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.
Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.
You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.
“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”
You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.
“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”
Well.
That’s not exactly comforting.
Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.
A strip club.
You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.
“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.
You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.
And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”
“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”
“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”
To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.
“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”
You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.
“The f—”
“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”
To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”
The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.
Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.
“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”
“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.
“But, sir—”
“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.
The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.
You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.
Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.
Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.
He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.
“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.
And so you do.
You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.
But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.
And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.
Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.
It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.
You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.
Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.
Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…
It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.
And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.
There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.
But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.
“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”
“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”
Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”
“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.
You decide against it.
To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”
At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.
“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”
“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”
And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.
“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”
“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”
“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”
“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”
“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”
“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.
Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.
Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.
You brace yourself with bated breath.
He flashes you a modest smile.
“It’s a deal, then.”
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!
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darnell-la · 5 months ago
Text
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗫
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pairing: dark!dom!Logan Howlett x non-mutant!fem!reader
warning: drugging, head butting, oral (fem receiving), nightmare fuck, woken from sleep, rough fuck, multiple orgasms, obsession, etc.
note: we can’t stop writing about this man. he’s everything we need.
please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us!
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!
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𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩
“Maybe you’re just no one’s type anymore, sugar. That attitude doesn’t sit well on women like you,” Logan said across the bar after hearing y/n complain to Storm that it’s hard to find a person she’s interested in.
“Or maybe you can mind your business!?” Y/n turned to look his way with a yell. Storm slightly touched her back to calm her now. “No! — I’m tired of him talking. It’s not like you’re so sweet yourself!” Y/n said.
Logan looked at the frustrated young lady with a grin as he placed his cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t like your dick could stand up still either,” she said, making the people who were listening, laugh.
“Ahh, wouldn’t you like to know,” Logan said, unfazed by the small words she tried to use to hurt his feelings. “Actually, I wouldn’t, because even Jean didn’t want a piece of you. And that was when you were younger,” she said.
People were shocked at her words, still laughing but watching out how much. They knew mentioning Jane was a topic he hated hearing.
“Watch what you say. Just because you ain’t a mutant, don’t mean I won’t handle you,” Logan said. Of course, her heart rate raised, but she stood her ground as she got up from the bar seat.
“Try me,” she said, making the metal-boned man laugh as he approached her. He could see her chest rise, knowing she wanted nothing she challenged him to do.
Logan looked back at Storm who was shaking her head as she pointed at the shit glasses y/n had downed. A whole tray that hold at least fifteen was insane for a human.
Logan looked back at y/n understanding why she felt so much emotion tonight. Her eyes were glossy and she slightly swayed back and forth. She was definitely halfway to passing out.
Logan leaned forward, mouth slightly grazing Y/n’s ear. “Go to bed, sweet cheeks,” Logan said as his hot breath hit the side of her face before heading to his room.
It’s been a few weeks since the incident at the bar with Logan. Y/n decided to keep it cool for a while until no one expected anything.
“Logan, can you please get my phone from the living room while I cook, please?” Y/n asked. He sighed loudly, always grumpy about something as he got up and walked out of the kitchen.
Y/n quickly pulled two pills out of her pocket and dropped them into his full glass of liquor. She had gone through the pharmacy they had for mutants downstairs, and searched for something that would make him rethink what he said to her.
Y/n went to walk away until she stopped and thought of his constant bullying since she got here.
Y/n pulled two boxes from her other pocket, took every pill from their wrapper, and dumped them in his drink. “One for your lazy dick, and the other energy since I should go to sleep early,”
Y/n quickly through the trash in the bin before running back to continue cooking. “Almost done,” she smiled as he placed her phone down with a fake smile back.
“For a mutant, you sure do get tired walkin’ room to room,” y/n snickered as he downed his drink. If he looked at the glass, he would’ve noticed something off, but he didn’t think of it.
“Does liquor get old these days? Fuckin’ hell,” Logan spoke with a few coughs. Y/n did her best, to keep her laughing. He had no clue.
“Logan, relax!” Y/n heard Scott yell somewhere in the mansion. At first, she thought they were arguing again until something broke and Jane screamed. What the hell is going on?
Y/n quickly got up from her bed and ran out of her room, toward where ever they were. “Logan, relax! Y-You’re safe!” Jane spoke. She’s told y/n she had to use those words whenever he got out of control.
“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked as she stepped around the corner. Logan’s head instantly snapped towards her. “No,” Scott said, having a feeling what Logan was going to do.
“Y/n, stay back. H-He’s not doing well right-“ Jean spoke but got knocked out of the way by Logan running towards y/n. As well as Scott.
Y/n tried to run, but before she could turn all the way around, he grabbed her, quickly throwing her over his shoulders before running away.
“Hey! — Let me go, Logan! Stop it!” She yelled as he ran towards the front door. Where was he taking her? Why was he taking her? He almost made it out of the mansion with her in hand until Storm used the wind to drag y/n back.
Logan stumbled, realizing she wasn’t in his hold anymore. He turned around stepped forward followed after y/n was dragged back until he looked up to see the whole crew staring right back at him.
Logan let out a loud growl before running off and out into the darkness of night.
“What the fuck!” Y/n shouted as Storm lifted her up and Jean checked her for any bruises. “What the hell is his problem?” Y/n asked as Scott ran out of the house to see where Logan had run off.
“Motherfucker’s taking my bike!” Scott shouted. “We don’t know. He was sitting on the couch, eatin’ the rest of the food you cooked, as always, then — then he started switching,” Jean said.
“At first it was mild, but I noticed it first. He then asked where you were and if we thought you’d be asleep yet,” Storm said. “We said we didn’t know, and he instantly grew angry,” Jean said.
“Motherfucker got up to go to your room and I stopped him before he could,” Scott said as he ran back into the mansion. It was late and y/n was confused. What was happening?
Y/n’s currently in her room as the crew took the yet to go find Logan. Xavier came with them. He said, maybe if he got closer to Logan, he could ease into his mind.
The school has been out for a couple of weeks, so the kids are either with their parents or in buddy groups somewhere in instate.
This means y/n has the whole mansion to herself on one of the worst days possible. While an animal is loose. A wild animal.
Y/n thought if she closed her eyes and went to sleep, she wouldn’t stress as much, so that’s what she did. Now she’s deep in her sleep, dreaming about what she was trying to distract herself from. Logan.
Logan was chasing her through the long halls. Every door being locked and the hall getting longer was the most terrifying part of the nightmare.
He chased her for what felt like hours. Each time he spoke, it felt like he was closer.
“Don’t run” “Stay still” “Mhm — That’s it” “All that shit talkin’ and you’re cryin’. Pathetic,” he said with a chuckle following behind his voice.
“Please, someone help!” She yelled in her dreams as she felt his breath on her neck. She was caught. Logan grabbed y/n and dragged her to a room that would’ve been locked for her.
“You’re a fast one, but I’ve gotcha,” he growled low as he hovered over the girl, lips inches from hers. “Smellin’ so good for me. You’re such a tease,” Logan ripped her clothes off. They disappear into dust. She knew she had to be dreaming.
“Runnin’ from me, but you’re soaked. You’re a lair, baby,” he said as he slipped her panties off, sniffing them before placing them in his back pocket. “Now how about ya cum for me?”
Y/n woke up slowly, hearing a voice in her room. “Now how about ya cum for me?” She heard for the second time, but in between her legs. Y/n whined as she looked down, not knowing what was happening until she saw him.
Logan was in between her legs, sucking on her pussy like a starved man. “Logan!” She screamed, scared at first until her back arched from the full effect of his tongue all over and between her folds.
Logan watched her reaction as he ducked on her hard, eating her out rougher than before. He’s been at this for. Good thirsty minutes and still couldn’t get enough.
“Gimme another,” he said. “What? — I-I don’t- Fuck,” y/n’s eyes rolled back. He was working her just right. He knew he was. He’s been waiting all night. From when he was eating the rest of dinner, to when he hid in the woods, waiting for the crew to leave, to sneaking in her room, hoping not to wake her up too early.
“Give me a 6th one, heh? Then I’ll fill ya up,” Logan said as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling and pumping into her to force another one he so desperately wanted.
The instant pressure of his fingers sent y/n over the edge with a loud cry and shake. She came all over his face, wetting him like a waterpark.
“Fuuuck,” Logan groaned, feeling in heaven. “Can never get tired of that, princess,” Logan said as he crawled up and over her until he attacked his lips onto her, softly.
Y/n kissed back for a second, feeling too deep into the mood. She only lasted for a little bit after she woke up, but she was sure this was the best orgasm she’s ever had.
“Logan- Logan!” Y/n pushed at his chest, making him lean back. “W-We can’t. They’re looking for you and you’re — You’re here eating me out and making out with me and-“ y/n’s mind ran everywhere until he cut her off with a short kiss.
“It’s okay, sugar. I need them out of the house for what I’m about to do to you,” Logan said, confusing her. “Logan — You’re feeling this way because I drugged you,” y/n blurted out.
Logan forced over her as she slapped her hands over her face in embarrassment. “Saying that out loud makes me feel bad, but, yes. I put a whole box of energy pills and Viagra on your drink when you went and grabbed my phone — I-I’m sorry,” y/n genuinely apologizes.
She thought he was going to lash out before she heard him chuckle. That chuckle turned into a laugh as he leaned up off of the bed.
“Baby, I pieced that together when I was in the living room, eatin,” Logan said as y/n backed up against her headboard. “My plan was to go up to your room and confront you before fucking you into your mattress, but Scott stopped me,”
“Then I saw you come around the corner and thought I could fuck you into the dirty in the woods like the low and pathetic slut you are, but Scott stopped me again,”
“So I ran — I knew they’d come looking for me. I waited in the woods for nearly an hour. Cock throbbing. Balls waiting to empty. I wanted to jack one off right then, but I knew it wouldn’t have been enough,”
“Besides — I’d rather fill every whole you’ve got to satisfy my needs,” Logan said before lunging at y/n. Y/n screamed and fought, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. He was stronger and wild. He needed her now.
“Keep fightin, baby. Always seemed hot knowing you couldn’t overpower me, even if you tried,” he mocked as he ripped his jeans off of him, as well as his boxers.
“N-No, no, no! Logan, I-I’m not doing this. I’m not doing — That!” Y/n said after seeing his length. He was long. He was huge. Veins nearly covered the whole thing. His balls looked stiff and in need of release.
“You’re gonna take it. You brought this on yourself, princess,” Logan said as he ripped his shirt off. Y/n had just noticed she was fully naked. He had stripped her from her nightgown when she was sleeping.
“I-It was a mistake!” Y/n tried pushing back as he came in between her legs. “Was it though? I smell how wet you get around me every day. All that anger is just an excuse because you’re too bitchy to ask for my cock,” Logan looked directly into her eyes, just a few inches away.
“Well, you won’t have to ask anymore. I’ve got the picture from now on,” Logan forced his huge length inside of y/n, stretching her walls in an instant. She cried at the pain but moaned at the pleasure.
“Yeah,” he growled, teeth stuck together. “Gonna fuck you all fuckin’ night,” Logan’s hips began to move at an ungodly pace. The huge man leaned over y/n like an inhuman form. Deep down he was.
He placed her legs on his shoulders and pushed down into her like some duck doll he had ready in his room for him.
Her lower back was slightly in the air. She could him thrust into her fully. She was forced to watch him use her cunt like some movie.
“L-Logan,” y/n threw her head back as she came unexpectedly from the angle he had her in. “Look at that waterfall. So fuckin’ pretty,” Logan wished he could slurp her up, but he was too busy digging in her guts for more.
“You know — That comment about Jean back at the bar — It was unnecessary,” Logan began a conversation with y/n. She was so confused about how because she was struggling to keep her mind straight. Her head already seemed light.
“I should’ve dragged you to my room then, but I was calm. Noticed you had a few drinks. Drinks always make sluts act out,” he spat.
“Anyway — About Jean. Yeah, I lost feelings a while ago. You wanna know when? When you came along,” he admitted. “Those sexy jeans and top that hugged your body set me off, quick. Jean was outta there,”
“Then your personality. Sweet and precious but evil to people like me. People who’re assholes,” he leaned closer to her face. “But, you know what, baby? I think you like assholes. Just look at the way you take my cock. I’m basically bullying myself into you,”
He wasn’t wrong. Before y/n signed up to teach at the school slash mansion, she was always caught up with some deuce. She wouldn’t be lying if she said she felt a type of way around Logan after realizing how grumpy and mean he can get.
She didn’t realize at the time, but when he felt the need to let some steam loose earlier today, he asked, looking for y/n. Not Jean. His mind was all on y/n.
“Such a slut — You’re squeezing me,” he teased as he felt himself grow close. “Keep goin’ — I know you like this,” he said as y/n’s mouth parted. The groan leaving Logan’s mouth as he watched y/n cum on his cock for the second time tonight, sent him over the edge.
The man had no words. All he could do was groan and growl loudly as he pounded into her, watching the light leave her eyes. She was definitely done for tonight.
“Fuck!” He yelled, cum spilling into her throbbing cunt. Logan thrust slowly, watching their cum coat his cock. He knew after tonight, that he’d need her every night. He was going to make that happen whether her attitude matched his or not.
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verstappen-cult · 11 months ago
Note
Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument
“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back. 
That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next. 
You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore. 
“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out. 
You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.” 
Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave. 
*
It’s past eight when you get home. 
The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house. 
Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches. 
The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles. 
When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light. 
“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him. 
Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”
“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 
“What?”
“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks. 
You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him. 
“I don’t want to be like him.”
“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?” 
But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything. 
“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes. 
“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again. 
“Can you forgive me too?” 
“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears. 
“Do you forgive me?”
Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?” 
“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”
A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”
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