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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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court-jobi · 1 month ago

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Unsee

((Banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5.1k

Rating: T+

Warnings: CH 362 SPOILERS, Pro-Hero! Bakugou x reader, angstttt, HURT/COMFORT, light PTSD, anxious stomach/vomiting, discussions about death, lots of comfort, est.relationship and lots of softness + trauma sharing

Summary:

When you love someone, you love their past, present, and future selves-- even if you were not part of their story for the hills and valleys that have made them who they are. This was the way of heroes: risking it all, even to death. You should know this threat by now, as it's the life you make for yourself as well-- but it's so much harder to keep the mentality when it's your loved ones on the line. You learn the extent of one of the biggest trenches in Katsuki Bakugou's life, and it shakes you to your core.

A/N: since I first envisioned my lil biker! reader, I've had this exact interaction on loop in my head. Making it the internet's problem now. apologies in advance for the feelings I've dumped in this fic. Signed, "Bakugou would hold your hair back" Club President

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Weekday mornings pass by generally uneventfully nowadays, leaving you with not much to do except to wait for calls for hero pickups when the shifts change over. It makes you feel like a bit of a taxi service, but the relaxed vibe makes up for the emergency response times you’re faced with in the dead of night when you get a message from the on-call line.

After a brief stop by your office space to glance at your inbox, you take a lap around the Service Lab in order to catch up with Hatsume.

There’s no one better fit to upgrade your helmet models and even take a special interest in how to bulk up your hero costume in order to protect you better. That’s a revolving topic from Bakugou’s lips as well, so your bringing up the idea wasn’t a foreign one– a revelation that touched you, deep under the professional front you keep here in the office.

Hatsume is highly sought after nowadays. Time in her own lab is where she should be calling home, but given her sporadic interest in all things support tech, she has been prone to taking outsourced Technical Outsource calls for nearby agencies– especially when said agencies employ her dear old schoolmates.

When you join her today, she’s busy talking shop and ropes you right into the conversation by pulling you right into her personal space. As far as subject matter, it’s hit or miss if you can contribute anything to the conversation, though today you’re pleased to see that she's in full ‘Dynamight’ mode.

A favorite topic of yours– and of all the tech assistants in the room. Mei, however, holds a far more casual opinion of Bakugou out of familiarity. They’re hardly on a first-name basis as you are, but hearing her peel back details about the larger-than-life sweetheart of yours is both fun and enlightening to hear.

Through your visits with her over the last year or so, you’re still not one hundred percent sure she actually knows what he means to you, because she barely looks you in the face as you cut your attention over old footage of him across all of her schematics monitors. Had she studied you as much as she studies Bakugou’s shoulder cannons, she’d spot your particular brand of appreciation by the tracing of a finger on your lower lip.

"Yeah it's kinda nice sometimes to jump back to basics with Blasty,” Hatsume drifts into a relaxed state back at her table, “Simple fixes like this -darn thing- hmmmthere we go!- Yep, some things never change! Always smart to figure out how to store more sweat, defer more exhaust. Lil harder now that it used to be, having to worry about the magnets."

“Magnets,” you throw in a word, catching up to her thought process, “What, on his belt?”

“No, those clip into place! The way he complains about ‘em with his gloves though, I should probably look into making them easily detachable, too.. But no, I mean the ones he used to have across his chest, back when we made the first suit edits at UA: Year Three,”

Hatsume keeps a long, archived track record with Bakugou, if her nearby drive bogged down with version files is indication of how many changes she’s made to his hero costume and support items…

“-- because we were trying to offload weight from his arms, I tried to strap ‘em to his torso. Only we learned pretty quick the strength of magnet grade was affecting the charges where it was hitting along his chest.”

"Charges–” you pay more attention now, inspecting what she’s doing. Hatsume doesn’t look your way, but is listening, “In the grenades?"

Do they go off at any second?? You assumed Bakugou’s smaller bombs were pulled in traditional fashion with a pin, as you’ve seen him use them in action firsthand. Hatsume has hard work, if she’s having to check each and every one of those, too…

"Oh! Haha no!" she chuckles brightly, "Sorry hun, shop term: ‘electromagnetic charges’! Each baby bombie has them, even when they’re not in use– but they don’t go live unless triggered. But in the rare event of a preemptive ignition, I didn’t want the chain reaction settin’ off his heart! Couldn’t use the strap anymore after that hoo-hah; too close to the loop device in the ‘ole ticker~"

Now that she’s talking organs, you start to get a pang of nerves.

You know Bakugou’s quirk is biometrically dangerous, but till now, you’ve not worried about the risks it would cause him in that way. Even more, you didn’t know of any internal monitoring device he’d have to check for that sort of activity. Bakugou went to the doc here in this building, when he’s in too rough shape to handle himself. But beyond that, you’re stumped.

"Whyyyy would that matter? What’s inside him, again?"

Hatsume handles the internal wiring of Bakugou's cannons with ease-- now that nothing is connected to an active, explosive vial of sweat. With her outfitted eyes set on the tiny soldering work, Hatsume's got Bakugou’s chart up and briefly flicks it over to the shared screen.

"'Dat one, 'hurr," the a teeny tool in her teeth drops at her need to speak, "I pull a read on his heart monitor whenever I come around to keep tabs on things- same as the core staff here does! Works like a charm with the new heart, now that he's had time to build up muscle around it~"

You look for yourself at the screen as she chatters-- and are horrified at what you find there in a continuous crawl across the screen.

Can't move. You can't breathe.

Can't understand how the hell Mei is still talking with such pep in her voice, when these pictures are taking nearly all of your composure away:

Nothing in your career prepared you to see stills of Katsuki lying stock still and caked with blood.

You're pale as the ghost you're looking at– as gutted as he is in this photo: frozen in time. The archive thumbnails are mostly drone footage, but this much you can see clearly- and wish with everything in you that you could unsee it.

The reference photos on his hero account don't show the extensive medical layover you see here in his technical file. You run through every tiny detail in the stills above you on the screens.

He's incredibly young. The soil around him, plants barely peeking out from the battle-torn ground; it's gotta be the big fight he rarely talks about. It's where he's got certain scars across his arms, chest, and the one cutting across his face; that much he's told you. They’re scars you’ve kissed and shown love and care for in his quietest moments, in which he felt the need to tell you why they stand out more than the others. In that much, Katsuki was honest… but not enough about this.

He never once mentioned organ replacement.

He's never told you his arm was torn to shreds by his own doing.

He never told you he’s living his second chance at life at the expense of another Pro Hero he’d never mentioned either--well, third if you could the brief blip while he was on the operating table after the battle. Didn't flatline for very long, according to these surgery notes, but still...

Surgery notes. Plural. There's many here. Wires sustain his oxygen and bloodflow, putting color back in his face. There's streaks across his cheeks- marred with tracks of soot and old blood, mixing with what must have been tears of pure exhaustion and rage and resolve. Yours sting at your own lash line. Every nerve ending clams up in your body: worse than the wreck that almost put you out of commission.

In your mind, Dynamight’s professional headshot is a flat, grumpy one. No smile to be found, but at least there's a spark behind the eyes.

He's not dead.

He literally brought you a can of coffee this morning.

He stopped you from getting up from the dining table too soon, needing to turn the clasp of your necklace around first because it was 'pissing him off'.

You know he's not dead– but you wish you'd never set foot in this room.

That old coffee's turned to lava in your gut.

"And these boots of his– they make too much noise! Talk about stealth-”

"Scuse- me, Hatsume.."

"--I know he’s not necessarily a known stealth hero, but– hey, when did she leave??”

He may not like how slick they go on when applied, but Bakugou had to admit it, these counterirritant patches were the best dang thing to ever happen to his shoulder blades. Menthol flooding his senses by heat activation, he was feeling better already after his first catch of the day.

After getting the note from Hatsume that his gauntlets were ready to pickup from R&D, he traipsed into her room while texting you. Just a short n’sweet message, hoping that he’d be able to cross paths with you before he’d need to go out again. The messenger app showed you were active within a few minutes ago, but you haven't responded to his messages.

He comes in, half listening to Hatsume’s rant to the staff technicians once again. He catches sight of his file, streaming up at the top of her video wall.

"Ugh, this again?” Bakugou barks out, “What am I, a sideshow to you science freaks?!"

"Hardly when we're the ones you need, Blasty," Hatsume huffed his way, "and besides, I think you better watch who you're talking smack to about this stuff anyway! And it wasn't online for my freaks, anyway. They know your work orders inside and out~ you should be nicer to them!"

You tell him as much, in his more crotchety moments… and you are always right.

Bored of the medical records, he turns to his completed support items out on the reception table, "Then what're you blasting all this shit for? Haven’t had any arrhythmias for months."

“Just because you haven’t had any doesn't mean it’s not a good idea to circle back and check. We can learn plenty from stable periods, just as much as emergencies, ya know!”

Bakugou simply rolls his eyes, throwing a grumbly word of thanks to the technician who brings over the case for said equipment, and starts packing it into place.

Hatsume slips her goggles up her face. Trying to read the Pro Hero before her wasn’t a hard task; he usually deflects when his weaknesses are on full display.

"You want my advice Mr. Murder God?” Hatsume turns more solemn– an attitude she rarely radiates.

“Sounds like you’re gonna give it anyway.”

“I think your teammates outta know what all's happened to you, cuz it sure isn't obvious to everyone. ‘Specially the ones who hang around you all the time… I think it’d be smart if they kept an eye out any emergencies, too- like your transport queen around here– Joyride, isn’t it?"

Katsuki flinched. He turns back from the table -past Hatsume- and centers back up to the full view of the record up on her computer.

He’s not so irritated by its presence anymore… but rather worried about how long it’s been up there, in full view of the room.

"...She saw all this?..."

"Mmmmyea, pretty sure?" Hatsume was already engrossed in her current project, "Was in the middle of your pieces when she came by. She normally doesn’t as so many questions, but she sure was today till she-”

Kaminari slides into the lab -winded and nervous as all getout- nearly colliding with the reception table altogether. He almost hit Bakugou square in the face, since the hothead had turned ready to bust out of the room himself.

"Oh geez, (heh) there you are, Bak- (heh) listen-- your girl's barfing her brains out! You know if she's sick or something??"

Bakugou grimaced and seethed at his own negligence-

"fuuuUUUCK," he hissed rounding the table, before he remembered Hatsume- "YOU, DUMBASS-"

"Scuse you???!"

"TURN THAT SHIT OFF, AND WHEN I GET BACK, WE'RE HAVIN' WORDS-- AND YOU-" Bakugou yelled back to Kaminari, carrier of bad news as he was, "WHERE. IS SHE."

"Bathroom by the rec room- but, hey man, it's locked!!"

Bakugou didn’t take time to listen more as he books it down the hall, making a beeline to where you'd be.

Down the hall just a few corridors away, you hadn’t made it far to take your leave. Bakugou approaches where a couple sidekicks hear you coughing behind a door, and are presently failing to be let in. The sound is heart-wrenching, hearing you sick, but he’s in full protective mode and ready to take out the door himself if need be.

He’s breathing hard, and scares them as he snaps and points harshly for them to move. They do, but not without one of them looking soured that he's getting in their face when they were only trying to help.

Coming to the door, Bakugou tries the handle despite Kaminari’s clear warning that it is indeed locked. He immediately rears up to bang his announcement, but rotates that fist to use just knuckles and taper his knocks down to a reasonable level. He's no less frantic in speech though, calling for you hoarse and breathy -mindful of his audience, only at first-

"Joyride...hon', it's me. Open up."

You're crying on the other side, but gasp when you hear him speak. An urp of a gurgle hits you in the quiet that follows, then another stomach-churning cough.

The rant of expletives that runs through his mind is enough to turn Bakugou’s own stomach... He palms his face for a minute, before letting his forehead drop to the door and speaks again.

"I can't help you if I can't see you, sweet’eart. I… know I got a lot to answer for."

The chances of him greeting a furyless version of you all gone, Bakugou accepts his fate.

"-And I figure if you're gonna yell at me, you should do it to my face. Please open the door."

After a sniffle and an incredibly uncomfortable beat of quiet where Bakugou is staring at the doorknob below him -gripping it in wait to open the second he hears the upper safety lock move-... he finally does, the moment you release it.

Bakugou steps in the single stall room -deftly fast- then locks it right up behind him. The girls on the other side fuss again, but he doesn’t give a spare thought to their efforts.

Down on the floor, not even fully sat back yet from your reach to catch the door, you're the most miserable sight. Stuffing a used-up paper towel that’s in reach by your stash, you're folding the unsoiled side to try and clear off your face and blow your nose for good measure.

What's worse, you can't bear to look at him.

With a careful sigh, Bakugou knows he's got a world of explaining to do- but has a greater worry over your slumped self on the tile floor. He’s seen you with the flu, and you weren’t this sick.

"Baby–"

One word and you're crying again, head down into your knees. Bakugou can only imagine what headspace you’re in, and the list of what he thinks he can say to console you is now down to zero. Actions it is, then.

Bakugou kneels down, swiping your hair back into a rough pony by teething off a hair tie from his wrist to secure it. Just in case you feel sick again, it wouldn’t hurt, he reasons. Once freshened, he takes away your trash bucket next without a word. Collects all the used bits of your attempt at cleanliness into the trash, barely a care for how many there were to clean up. Whatever he’d need to do -whatever you’d allow him to do- that’s how he’s determined to serve.

Finally, he shifts from a kneel to a sit. The blonde crisscrosses his stance under him, bringing you by both arms to pull you forwards, into his lap.

At first you're confused at his hands' insistence, but since he's made himself in prime position to hold you, he's glad to see you fall to the open invitation even in a dire time like this. A little shaky, but still you clamber over to his lap on your knees until he can get you settled the rest of the way himself.

Chest to chest, legs astride him, he'd hoped he'd catch a better look of your face as you came over-- but no such luck as you duck your head in. His chance at helping you remains though, as you’re holding him tight around the neck and shoulders and clearly aren’t averse to him. Frightened enough for one day -maybe even a lifetime- Bakugou lets you cling on, and simply holds you tight in return.

All that matters to him is that you're positioned as close as humanly possible. Protected. Safe to cry and ready to just absorb it. He knows it's what he deserves, and considers himself your personal sponge.

To your hiccups making you jump against his chest, he just pets through your hair quietly hushing you to stillness.

"I'm here." He takes a tepid breath. "I’m not there, baby, I'm right here."

You stutter, but simply try to control your own breaths.

"i--... I'm so.. so.. 've never been so upset.."

"I know."

"I feel so'sick.. y’looked–"

The impulse to kick aside that damn puke bucket is raging within him-- but knowing your possible need for it, he brings it close instead.

"I know, babe.”

He'll get you set before you head out on patrol today. If you ever settle… but for now, he's focused on the one thing he can control, and that’s getting you as comfortable as possible.

From here, you can't look at him, but you can look straight ahead- which shows you Bakugou's full back in the mirrored wall. The movement when he breathes, his neck craning as he lowers his head to sink over your shoulder. How you're being held so tightly it shows in each muscle group.

You can't see it, but feel it: cold breath blown from his lips, to comfort onto your heated neck. Bakugou's lifted up your haphazard ponytail, trying to introduce some cool touch to you in this small space.

You gather it's an apology, done his way-- seeing as he's unintentionally created this catastrophic response in your body.

As you've told him in your most private moments, you've only really felt this raw outlash of emotion in the workplace once before: the day you found out your sweet brother in arms, T’challa, passed away so expectedly. You suppose that's why this is jarring you so strongly now; losing him was the first major loss in your life, years before you met Bakugou.

This is so different, but all the same. A core figure in your support system- your inner circle– here one minute and gone the next. This was the way of heroes. You should know it by now, but it still breaks your tender heart. Even looking at snapshots of Katsuki at his lowest has you heartbroken and shocked.

You're a dichotomy of strength: tough enough to ride headfirst into a mission, but also prone to such intense emotion in your most private moments that you retreat into yourself and deal with an anxious gut all by yourself. Anything to protect the image you keep.

Only today, that exterior means nothing to Katsuki. Not when he alone can try and hold you back together while you try and fix yourself enough to speak coherently.

He's been holding himself together solo for far too long, too; you’ve known this from the first day he out and out confessed ‘I’m bad at this’ when he asked to simply hold your hand in public. You can feel it in your conjoined breaths, cycling back and forth for comfort. He’s unsettled, too– his new heart’s going far too fast.

“Did you actually die out there?” you manage in broken whispers.

Tell me I just thought the worst.

“... I did,” Bakugou answered calmly, “But I didn’t wan’ you to see how. Not alone.”

“Would you have shown me? Ever?”

“Doesn’t exactly come up at the breakfast table, angel.”

‘But it should have by now.’

Bakugou senses the retort and simply pets through your hair again, another apology written by touch.

“But… I coulda picked any other time, by now. You know everything else. I swear.”

Everything meaning injuries, you hope to God… “No more?”

“No more surprises. I promise.”

Secure enough to take a deep inhale, you try to lift your sights heavenward.

Such a sobering thought you have to operate in on the daily, knowing hero work is among the deadliest professions. You could lose your best friends at any time, anyone you love. In that vein, you are trying your best not to be selfish with your need for Bakugou’s safety…. Yet you still hold that small hope that as long as you have each others’ backs, you have a shot at staying ahead and staying alive- together.

Back then, you didn’t know each other. Katsuki Bakugou lived an entire life before he met you, one you were still learning.

"I didn’t know how bad it was for you…” you remember the site of the attack, what surrounded him- or rather, what didn’t. So much of that battlefront had been laid low. That told you as much as the injuries, how bleak everything looked.

Bakugou takes a centering breath himself. His grip on you never lessens.

"It was the worst day of my life,” he shares, “I fought the world's greatest villain. Almost watched my hero die… Almost lost my best friend, all on the same day. Bad memories all around, for all of us."

Memories that seep into sleep.

"S'that what you dream about? When it gets bad?"

Taking the shot at Shigurake, sent flying back by his own ricocheted blast, giving it all- fruitless as it might have been in the moment when every bone in his body felt like it was bleeding out of every pore.

You know somewhere in that event, the best friend Katsuki speaks of must have been on the brink of death in an emotional full-circle moment, for he never speaks ill of him in all the ways that matter. He’s a dork, but he’s his dork. You identified their relationship as special from the moment you’d met Izuku Midoriya but… in a deeper way than you’d found the words for yet. They’re twin stars, bound by something stronger than you even think you share with Katsuki some days. Or maybe it’s just different– not one bond that’s better than another.

You've heard him waking in a panic those nights: how he calls for Izuku, and wakes up in tears. Even in recent months, he doesn't always explain why he’s crying, only that he wants to bury it for the night… and that you help him do that.

On the subject of those nightmares, today’s discovery of that era of Bakugou’s past becomes painfully clear.

And so, he answers honestly, "...yeah."

“That’s so scary, Katsuki. You were so young.”

He feels around with one hand between your crammed bodies- for yours. Your head's still hung over his shoulder, but you crane back to watch what he's doing.

He puts it in place over his heart, forehead knelt to yours.

"Here. This is me, now."

The heartbeat under your palm is strong- a little fast, at the moment.

"They asked me if I’d do it again, if given the chance. N’for the longest time, I woulda said ‘yes’. That’s what I figured heroes say, in the face of the unknown.”

Before you can let that thought gut you again, you feel Katsuki press his thumb in one singular spot: your empty ring finger.

“But I faced the unknown. It was– really light, actually. But all I wanted was more time. I wanted the time to say words. Say more, or- do more. I had to make it right to the ones who mattered. I’m still trying to make it right. And I was given that chance to raise hell, and won. So when I see that shit, I’m grateful. I’m stronger now because of what happened then.”

You look to his face now; the older, stronger, seemingly immovable version of that younger self that still makes its appearance when he’s more pensive. He is still stuck on the look of his thumb where your third knuckle should be…

“Looking at it today though, there is more that war gave me than just making me the hero I am now.”

You press into his heart, “What’s that?”

“If I’d stayed dead,” he treads carefully, “I wouldn’t have you. I wouldn’t have someone who– cares for me, like you do. Who would care about that shitty kid who just barged ahead, even with warning signs going off everywhere.”

With a raise to kiss your hand, Bakugou lets his voice go raspy.

“You looked at that idiot and threw up- all because you cared,” he sniffs with a laugh, “Got a second chance at life, and got a complete knockout who gives a shit about me.”

Abrasive but honest; you laugh in full force. The odd thought passes you: why people watch gory, scary movies for ‘entertainment’ makes no sense to you. If they want horror, just take a gander at a pro-hero’s medical file.

You cradle Katsuki’s head in for good measure and lay an appreciative kiss on his head.

“Of course I give a shit,” you say hoarsely, “tho I prefer to say things like that with honey than vinegar, Kats.”

“Yeah, I know ya do… I count on it.”

When you hug him now, it’s a gentler connection. Bakugou still rubs his hand up and down your back, but out of affection instead of dire comfort.

Finally you feel assured enough for now: you reconciled his past enough to have confidence in his present. He’s bold and never short of giving his all, but to know he acknowledges this living on extended time and has a unique appreciation for the cornerstones around him gives you calm again.

Bakugou truly is your hero– who you know will drop everything to make sure he protects what’s closest to him first and foremost.

When you sniffle and lick at the corner of your mouth, it still tastes sour and you finally register a pang of self awareness. You have to smell foul talking so close to him right now.

“I shoulda thought about gum or something..-sorry.”

“Would you stop,” Bakugou droned, taking out your insufficient ponytail now that you finally seemed settled, “I’m with you just about every morning the second you wake up, and I don’t give a fuck.”

Sweetly you silently thank his efforts with a sweet nod to how he put the hairtie back on his wrist. “Still, don’t mean to make it your problem.”

The hint of a smirk starting to come back to his face, you couldn’t completely eradicate his worry with one little bat of the eyes.

“You are my problem. One I’m happy to fix up when I break it. We’ll get you freshened up when you’re ready. And only when you’re ready.”

You notice your position now on the floor of this bathroom and find it endearing how he managed full cuddle mode in such limited space. Surely the locked door was the straw that secured this.

But the knock was sure to halt it–

“Hey man, leave them alone!-”

“Um, hey ‘Joynamight’?~” Kaminari tested from the other side, “Haven’t heard any hurling in a while, are y’all good?”

“We’ll be GOOD when I SAY WE’RE GOOD!” Bakugou fired back, “HOLD YOUR DAMN HORSES, SPARKPLUG!”

Muting all laughter at the old school rivals was a challenge, but you did so while trying to gracefully detach from your loving partner. He let you with a steadying set of hands to yours to help push yourself up. You offer him steadying arms to pull him back up as well before putting your trashcan back to where it belonged.

A rinse of your mouth later, you fan your face as best you could in a last-ditch effort to look like you haven’t been bawling like a baby. While he awkwardly stood to the side to give you a minute, you caught Bakugou thumbing at his waterline, too, with a stiff upper lip to get himself back in business.

Once you rejoined him for a last hug, he readily accepts you with a rush of kisses to your forehead– just how you like it. It’s the mushiest he gets with you physically– guaranteed to get you back to your happy-go-lucky self. Once done, he smirks back at you pleased, petting your hair perfectly back into place.

“You good?”

“I’m good~”

“OKAY, WE’RE GOOD, SHITTY HAIR!”

“Hey I was the one tellin’ him to lay off you guys!!”

“YEAH AND I CAN HEAR YOU SNICKERING FROM HERE.”

“Damn, for a guy with hearing loss, he sure can pick you out pretty well-”

Bakugou finally swings the door open, pissy as usual, “I HEARD THAT!!”

While Kirishima and Kaminari jog on, Bakugou pockets his hands and holds back for you. Once you exit, you figure you better brave a trip to the kitchen and make a round 2 of breakfast.

“Something easy, ok?” he warns gently.

“I will. Won’t go fainting on ya~”

Knowing you’ll be on the roads later, Bakugou will impress a stable diet on you more than most.

“And no coffee.”

“Well, tie my hands completely, why doncha, Dynamight?” you sigh dramatically in the doorway.

He takes your chin in a bossy move, “Hey- m’lookin’ out for you, dummy.”

He sounds gruff and looks like he means it in the coolest of ways… but you hear everything in between the fussy brows and piercing eyes:

I care about you-

I’m sorry-

I know you’re this way because of me-

Never again-

Find me if you need me-

I love you- I love you- I love you-

“I know you are, Blasty~”

“UGH, she’s still calling me that shit too?!” Bakugou recoils further, shooting daggers down to the Tech Room, where he knows Hatsume is the one who fed you that old nickname.

You giggle as he stomps away, but he still throws back a last threat that you need to drink a fucking water before you go the fuck anywhere.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou angst

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mysticheathenn · 9 months ago

Text

What Would Make You Happy?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about what will make you happy in your life right now with your current energy.

Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

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Pile l:

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: 6 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, 8 of Wands, 7 of Cups (reversed)

Two words: Life Purpose & Rapid Movement. You want life to get to the good part pile l. Some of you could be struggling with your circumstances and feel that you don't have any other options in life because you either lack money, a support system, or you just can't see anything past your limiting belief system not knowing that the world is your oyster. You want life to literally stand at the side of the road like a cartoon character holding up signs of what path, direction, or what should happen next so you can help progress and bring in more of what you want in your life because you are tired of being in the same place. You are tired of feeling defeated like nothing you do is helping your situation. I Need a Hero (Shrek 2 Version) is playing in my head. Overall you just want to begin living your life in your purpose if not purpose you want to feel as if you are meant something on this earth like you aren't just here taking up space. You want to live a passionate and fulfilling life where you don't feel drained, anxious, unstable, or limited in the things you want to do, and even to some you want to be of service to those around you/community.

Extra Messages: Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck Oracle: Step into Your Power & Work Through Your Feelings

"Achieving anything is nearly always part inspiration and part hard work. Believe that you can create whatever you want. Be You! Take action and be smart but also bold."

Some of you just need to ask for help. Your guides have been trying to communicate with you but you either are a) passing everything off as a coincidence or not believing that the path being shown to you is for you because you lack confidence or b) You need to be more grounded and meditate, do some yoga, journaling, whatever it is that you do to ask your guides, ancestors, the universe for help. That may even look like prayer for some of you.

Pile ll

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: Queen of Wands (reversed), Ace of Cups (Upright), 7 of Cups / 4 of Swords / 5 of Wands (All reversed)

One Word: Fulfillment. You may have been drawn to pile l, pile ll. A Boondocks quote came to me "Huey: Grandad, what do you do when you can't do nothing and there's nothing you can do. Grandad: You do what you can. " Like pile l you are tired of life trying to knock you down every chance you get but for a lot of you, this is more of a mental thing than life doing anything. Most of you may feel that you aren't good enough, there is someone better than you, believing in imposter syndrome, or even anxiety. Not knowing that all you need is a change in your mental health. Stop believing in the voices in your head, the nay-sayers that told you once 10 years ago you would never amount to anything or even the results you see from lack of clients or progress. You are your own enemy, only you can put a stop to your madness and begin believing that you can achieve greatness and the fulfillment you want out of your life. Your thoughts reflect your reality. If you feel you aren't good enough...why should others believe you are too? If you believe your art, craft, or services are crap...life is going to prove to you with no sales, clients, etc because you believe it is true.

Extra Messages: Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck Oracle: Open to Change, Take A Reality Check, Lighten Up

Be open to having a reality shift pile ll. What is the worst thing that could happen if you believe in yourself? Seriously what bad thing could happen if you decided to be your own cheerleader and believe you are worth more than what yourself and others have to say to you? Bet on it - High School Musical (Song link: http://tinyurl.com/262djrbw ) is playing in my head.

"I'm not gonna stop, that's who I am I'll give it all I got, that is my plan Will I find what I lost? You know you can Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it (Bet on me) I wanna make it right, that is the way To turn my life around, today is the day Am I the type of guy who means what I say? Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it

The answers are all inside of me All I gotta do is believe"

Pile lll:

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: 9 of Swords (Upright), Knight of Swords, 7 of Cups/ 7 of Pentacles / 6 of Cups (All reversed)

One Word: Self Care. You have a lot of mental and emotional turmoil going on inside of you, pile lll. For most of you, this is limiting beliefs, anxiety, and depression. But overall I am sensing that you just want to feel not only appreciated but to not feel the burdens of everyday life on your shoulders. You may be the type who takes on way too much even the struggles and worries of other people. You need to release those worries and struggles. They are not yours to carry, if people around you don't care enough to do something for themselves why should you?? That is not yours to worry about. I know you are probably thinking well someone has to care...yea..but that person can't be you pile ll. You are literally tearing yourself down for other people just for them to what....get back with their toxic ex, overspend their budget asking you for money, etc etc..cut the cord. You need to worry and focus on yourself. You need you more, now than ever. Pamper yourself pile lll. Do a DIY spa day if you are short on money. Make a face mask or buy those $5 ones at the store, soak your feet in some Epsom salt, and play your favorite childhood movies. Relax. Maybe even get a massage if you have that kind of money. If you can turn off your phone for a weekend and focus on nobody but yourself. Ask yourself what do you want to do?

Extra Messages: Tarot: Judgement, Ace of Wands / The Chariot (reversed), Strength, 4 of Cups.

(Short Message for a very few) What you want is yours for the taking. All you have to do is ask....but you need to be sure what you want you have the strength for. Whatever this is for you pile lll just know that you are the only person in the driver's seat. It's time for you to decide what you want, where you want it, and when can you start. It's up to you to answer the call.

I hope this reading was insightful and gave some clarity or even guidance. Thanks to everyone who likes, reblogs my posts, and joins my Patreon. I always appreciate you <3.

Until Next time stay blessed and be safe.

The next pick acord reading will be for my Cosmic Stargazers on Patreon...not sure when it will be up but most likely before Monday or Tuesday.

#tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot cards #witchblr #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image

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goldenhickeysandramen · 9 months ago

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Evolution of their narrative

I admit it. I also get confused as to what kind of couple Tae& Koo is supposed to be to their shippers.

When I first joined the fandom they were the “hidden couple”, and jikook was “fan service”, cause is what the masses demanded from BH/Bang PD.

It didn't take me long to realise that the "masses" in this fandom are actually the taek00kers (humaluvre is bigger than the majority of the most famous JK's focus accs) … So I've never really understood who the masses-asking-massively-for-"jikook"-content were 🤷‍♀️

Then, I read them that the big proof that taek00k was real was, precisely, that they couldn’t do all the things that jikook could do so well (you know, travel together only the two of them, stare at each other in rapt attention, sucking ears and necks, treat each other as a married couple, support each other to the fullest, holding hands whenever they have the opportunity…). The reason of them not doing all of these things was South Korea, since it is an homophobic country.

That’s why the company edited the content and didn't let them interact. It was all cuts and so on. Everything they did was private, and that's why there was no evidence, other than some witnesses of people with telescopic sight and facial recognition (maybe they were androids?)

I had more or less understood the narrative, until the LOVEGRAM era started, and that's when it all blew over!

Their insta accounts were no longer professional accounts (like twitter or weverse), but personal… and from then on, their selfies were some short of engagement pics or couple confirmation and their funny comments about boxing hooks were actually whipped messages of love.

Btw it seems South Korea was no longer homophobic at that time.

INSTAGRAM WAS THE LAW

When JK closed his Instagram account (forced by the company 😌) we were already in chapter 2. The lovegram didn't matter anymore…because Jungkook hanging out sometimes with Tae and wooga became the confirmation of what Instagram -in reality- failed to confirm. Never mind that their hanging out concentrated during some months when they both had more free time or that they actually just did what good friends do: having fun at the movies, bowling or skiing together with other friends… but hey, those tiny details don't matter in the great love story that is told.

And from there we move on to the part where the CHAOS really started, when the COMPANION SYSTEM news dropped

And guess what? Korea became homophobic again

Some said that they were forced to part ways (the company, the government, themselves because they wouldn't last a second without f?….). Gays dont enlist together they said.

Another line of argument was that Jimin had asked JK to enlist with him… I guess because he was going to be terrible at the military. LOL

But we all can sense that the most extended opinion was "I can't understand this plot twist for shit".

(Maybe the problem is they never understood their favs but that’s for another post)

And in the midst of CHAOS it was no longer possible to think of a new narrative...that's why the strategy became "attack". If they can't prove that their favourites are a couple, they'll go and debunk the rest.

At this point they don’t seem to care if ta3k00k is real or not… they simply choose not to surrender and ignore some facts. If they freaking ignored Jennie during a year, they will do the same with jikook being glued for 18 months.

So in the next months, we'll probably see part of fandom (solos and tkkers) attacking jikookers, and another part trying to ignore us. I fear the chaos will continue… pretty sure some toxic ones will watch the travel show just to diss jikook..

But we shouldn’t care too much because as we have seen, Jimin and Jungkook will never stop taking their decisions and behaving with authenticity

The boys have chosen their own path this year, not to please the majority of their fandom (jikookers are not the mass), but because they wanted to.

At the end of the day, they care about their fans, but we don’t own their lifes and they have shown us. And I applaud 👏 them

And yes, maybe their country and the careers they have chosen dont allow them to be fully free…. but they dont prevent them to stay one next to the other. They know how to choose the battles worth fighting for.

Don't you think it's beautiful and says a lot about the quality of love and respect that Jimin and Jungkook have for each other?

I think so

"standing in the fire next to you"

💜💛

#kookmin #jikook #jikook kookmin #mingguk #jimin and jungkook #jikook kookmin jinkook jiminshiii jk #minkook #mingukkie

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markrosewater · 2 days ago

Note

Hi Mark,

My name is Isaac Holguin. I sent a detailed email regarding your work on the color pie over the years to [email protected]. I hope that is the correct avenue to reach out to you. I had the pleasure of being answered on this blog as well, so I thought I'd double check by contacting you here. In case the email listed isn't in service anymore, I've copied my message below. I hope this reaches you and that you're doing well. If you're able, I'd love to hear back at [email protected]. Thanks for all you do!

----------

Hello Mr. Rosewater,

My name is Isaac Holguin and I'm a nurse studying leadership and education in Tucson, Arizona. Before I get into the topic of my email, I'd just like to say thank you for being a spokesperson for Magic the Gathering all these years! I've played the game since I was thirteen years old, all through college, and well into my career. Magic the Gathering has helped me make new friends and deepen bonds with people I already had in my life. Though I've stopped participating in recent years, the game will always hold a special place in my heart and I've still got an Alpha Serra Angel that is as old as I am!

One of the best memories I have from my time with Magic was diving into the color wheel breakdown series from your "Drive to Work" podcast. During my pursuit of a Bachelors in Nursing Science, I often cited the color wheel as a tool to determine personality traits and compared it to other topics in my studies. Now that I'm pursuing my Master's degree in Nursing Education, I'm interested to see if there were any references or inspirations for the development of the color pie. With the recent popularity of the Myers-Briggs assessment (16 Personalities), Ten Faces of Innovation, and other similar tools I'd like to try and adapt the color pie as a leadership/personality assessment. I understand there will be multiple steps involved to publish such a study with respect to Hasbro and Magic the Gathering as a company, but I would like to attempt to lay the foundation of this project during my studies.

The goal of this project would be to introduce an existing, incredible, fun, and easy to use tool to a vast new audience. Helping others acknowledge that all aspects of the personalities presented exist within them to some degree and can evolve over time has become a core belief for me both personally and professionally. Examples of "your greatest weakness is your greatest strength pushed too far" and the idea that the capacity for good and evil exists in any aspect of a personality are incredible insights that I haven't seen cited enough throughout my studies. My wildest hope is that this tool would be utilized in coursework for multiple professions, similar to the curriculum I'm studying now, to help future leaders reflect on their strengths and develop effective leadership styles.

In short, I hope that you're doing well and would love to hear your insights, recommendations, and references for the work you've so passionately brought to thousands of others of the years. Even if you're unable to share certain aspects of your work, I'd like you to know that your endeavors have not only brought relief and happiness to healthcare workers like me, but that you've inspired so many others to apply the lessons of fictional works to improve our reality. The lessons gained from my long history with this franchise have helped me connect to others in their most vulnerable moments, and improve their quality of life. Thank you for all that you've done, and I wish you continued success in a field you've already become an exemplary expert in.

Sincerely,

Isaac Holguin

BSN, RN

I’m always excited to hear about ways people can use the color pie outside the context of the game. I’m not sure what I can do to help you.

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deancaspinefest · 9 months ago

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Another Kind of Memory

Author: FriendofCarlotta | Artist: Aggiedoll

Posting on Wednesday March 20

Since a traumatic incident six years ago, Castiel Novak’s face has been disfigured by a scar. He’s resigned himself to being someone people can barely stand to look at, let alone love. Except his heart doesn’t seem to have gotten the message. When Dean Winchester takes over the convenience store down the street from Castiel’s bookshop, Castiel falls helplessly in love with his new neighbor. To make matters worse, Castiel’s sister Anna is also interested in Dean. Believing that Dean could never love him, Castiel decides to help Anna win his heart instead.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Hey,” Dean says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Just… wanted to say hi.”

“Oh. Hi,” Castiel says, one hand fluttering nervously down his face and across his hair in an attempt to ensure he’s looking presentable. The tips of his fingers catch on the ugly, jagged ridge of his scar, and he remembers that “presentable” stopped being an option six years ago. He clears his throat and arranges his face in the polite mask of a consummate customer service professional. “Anything I can help you find?”

“Um.” Dean looks uncertain now, as though it’s a question he wasn’t expecting — despite the fact that it’s easily the most predictable question one could be asked in a bookshop. “I don’t know. I was just gonna browse, I guess.”

This is the point in a customer interaction where Castiel would usually withdraw, because “I’m just browsing” is universal bookstore code for “leave me the fuck alone.” But Dean doesn’t give any sign of wanting to walk away. Instead, he simply hovers in front of Castiel’s armchair, eyes gliding aimlessly (and somewhat helplessly) across the shelves to his right.

“What sort of things do you like to read?” Castiel finds himself asking, because it’s impossible not to take pity on a grown man who is capable of looking so bashfully lost.

“Anything,” Dean says. One of his hands flies to the back of his neck, rubbing at it. There’s something terribly endearing about the gesture — perhaps the fact that it makes him look like a boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Belatedly, it occurs to Castiel that it’s his turn to speak. His prolonged silence appears to have made Dean nervous, because he’s speaking again, a little too quickly to be altogether natural. “I know that sounds stupid. Like those people who say they like all kinds of music — which I don’t, by the way, just to be clear. Big classic rock fan. Zeppelin, the Stones. Metallica too, which I guess is classic rock these days and fuck, that’s kind of depressing. But, yeah. Anyway. Pretty much anything. Love Vonnegut and Kerouac, but I’ve read just about all their stuff. I’ll read sci-fi, horror, mysteries… actually, I guess I should say I read all kinds of fiction. Non-fiction kinda puts me right to sleep. My brother, Sammy, he’s a big fan though. Crazy about true crime for some reason.” Dean blows out a heavy breath. He abruptly seems to realize he’s scratching at his neck and lowers his arm back down, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves now. “You probably didn’t need to know all that, huh?”

“No, this is helpful,” Castiel says, getting up. “I’ll show you the layout of the store so you can see which shelves you might be most interested in.”

Somehow, Dean’s shyness makes him feel more at ease. When he first laid eyes on Dean, he thought someone as handsome as Dean must be a smooth and confident conversationalist. But he doesn’t seem to be, and somehow, that makes it easier for Castiel to hold up his own end of the conversation.

Or maybe it’s just that Dean doesn’t know how to talk to someone like Castiel. He wouldn’t be the first one.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 20)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: FriendofCarlotta #artist: Aggiedoll #Inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac #Love Letters #Misunderstandings

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bridgetoesoteria · 9 months ago

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😡#@! Who is scared of you and why?😰

Honestly, I'm pretty curious to see what the piles hold. Any energy could come through. Professional, romantic, friends/family, etc. 😬

Lets find out! Piles are left to right! (idk why it's so small sorry)

HOPE IT RESONATES. PAY ATTN TO YOUR INTUITION AND HOW THE MESSAGES RESONATE FOR YOU PERSONALLY!!

Pile 1

4 card spread: 6 of wands, 5 of cups, 10 of wands, 5 of swords. BOTD: 8 of swords

Damn Pile 1. Remind me not to mess with you... For some of you, this is a person that perceives you as playing dirty. So you could have "one against them in some "won," in some way. Some examples that are immediately coming to mind would beating a romantic rival or winning some kind of sports tournament.

For others, this could have to deal with the legal system. For the Urban Tarot Deck, the 10 of wands is represented as a man in jail. So this person could be in trouble with the legal system or some kind of institution or authority. For some reason, I do not think you are talking, but maybe its because you can't? Like if they are overseas and its hard to get reliable service, if they are in jail and have limited access to a device, or you have decided to stop speaking. Some of you could be testifying against this person or you could be breaking up/divorcing.

So I used my Bold Perceptions deck and asked how you perceive this person. These are the cards that came out, make of them what you will: "How would you describe or label your style?"// "If you could bring back one fashion from throughout history, which would it be?" (Pile 1, is their fashion sense kinda unique??) If you could see a statistic or number floating above people's heads like in a video game, what would you most want to see and why? (could be a gamer, or someone who you wish you could read better) "What do you think the opposite sex notices about you first?" // "What do you notice first about the opposite sex?" (there could be mutual attraction, one or both of you could be jealous about the attention the other receives)

Why??

Oop! Okay, I see now. I think this person is afraid of you spilling the beans. Interesting that I got a message about the legal system. This does not have to necessarily pertain to the law though. I am also seeing that if you are part of an affair, they could be scared you are going to move on, or that you could expose them.

For some of you this person is scared that you are pregnant. Or there could be something to do with hiding a pregnancy. Some of you it is not that dramatic. This person could be too intimidated to approach you and get communication going again. This will be especially true for situations where you cut this person off over cheating or something. They are trying to keep you from leaving.

There are also a lot of pentacles out. The only cup card is the knight of cups, which is on the bottom of the deck after I pulled clarifiers. So this person could be really focused on stability. Whatever they are scared about ties into their stability and keeping things "under wraps", is what I am specifically hear. But what if you don't want to hear them out?

TL;DR: This is someone that is known to you, but you probably aren't speaking often. There could be an issue with the legal system, a break up, divorce, or secret being exposed. This person could be attractive and have a unique sense of style. You could wish you were able to read their mind. They are scared of you because they do not want to lose their stability or you. They are scared to reach out and get rejected but they are trying to keep everything together.

Pile 2

4 card spread: 6 of swords, 8 of swords, King of Cups, Temperance. BOTD: 10 of swords

This could be family for some of you. A masculine or male figure in your family, so a brother, dad, husband, etc. Or possibly a woman who is more masculine, but I do think for most it is an actual man. I don't think you are in contact with this person. They could have experienced an ending recently or they are under an extreme amount of stress. For some of you, this person could be depressed or struggling with something else mental health related.

There is a sense of trying to find balance with the 6 of swords and temperance. They could also have relocated. I am getting some workaholic vibes. This is starting to remind me of Pile 1... They feel like they lost something and I am getting a lot of "she left and took the kids," type of vibe. Regardless, they certainly feel alone and regretful. For some of you this person has experienced an actual loss and they are trying to find balance again after that.

I used my Bold Perceptions deck and asked how you perceive this person. These are the cards that came out, make of them what you will: "What do you think your best physical feature is?" // "What you think my best physical feature is?" (you and this person may share certain features or look alike or have feature that the other likes) "If you had to rename me, what name would suit me best?" // "What is the worst nickname you can think of for me?" (do they have a cringe nickname? or maybe you call them something else behind their back, like captain poop face lol) "Who would you invite if you threw a party and could bring any three celebrities?" // "What three would least want to come?" (you could perceive this person as being cool, uncool, or well-connected)

Why??

Some of you could be really spicy. Maybe you cussed this person out. If you cut them off they are scared this is a permanent decision. For some of you, they could be scared that you will explore other options. Like maybe you will entire your selfish era and just go where ever your heart tells you. Maybe they pushed you too far this time.

This person could have tried to sell you a dream and you are realizing you can do bad all by yourself. You could be very content on your own, investing in yourself, going out, having a good time. If you aren't in that energy already, they are afraid that you are headed there. For whatever reason, this scares them.

TL;DR: This is a masculine energy, could be a family member for some of you. For example, a brother, husband, or father. They can be someone who is struggling mentally/emotionally right now. They could tend to overwork themselves. You may have left this person. I don't think you have much respect for them anymore. They are scared of you being happier single and realizing that you do not need them. They are scared they have lost you for good. If you haven't entered this energy yet, they are terrified that you will.

Pile 3

**this energy was by far, the most difficult to tap into today!! Some of you might resonate with Pile 2, because I keep mixing them up.

4 card spread: Death, The Tower, Queen of Cups, Ace of Pentacles. BOTD: 5 of wands

So this pile does not have any strong romantic energies like the last pile, but take it however it resonates. I feel more of a friendship that might have gone sour. This could be someone that you fight with or have fought with in the past. They could be a person that is argumentative. You could be the complete opposite of them; Softer, more feminine, gentle... This person could gossip a lot. They could get a lot of attention from suitors but none of the relationships are particularly meaningful or long-lasting. They could like to compete for attention.

Wow, I would not expect a person with this energy to be scared of anyone. But I guess the loudest people are sometimes overcompensating. This could be family or someone you are very close to. They could be used to having control over you or your life in some way. This could be someone that is sad to see you leaving. I think life has definitely started to guide you to different paths.

I don't think you like this person. They could be an asshole fr! The king of swords just came out and that is my "asshole" card. Someone that is pretty selfish. They could also be a liar and harsh with their words. They could be emotionless. You could really dislike them right now. You probably want your space and to learn how to be okay on your own.

Next, I'm pulling from my Bold Perceptions deck. We are asking how you perceive this person. These are the cards that came out, make of them what you will: "In what ways do you think social media has changed dating" // "If you could be in a one-sided open relationship would you?" (this person could be some who cheats, or flirts a lot online. You know, the type of person that stays in people's likes & DMs. You could have met online. They could have tried to play you in some way) "Which emojis remind you the most of me?" // "What are your pet peeves, and what do you think mine are?" (you could text a lot, maybe never went past the talking phase, you could have been roommates) "Ask a Bold question that you have always wanted to." (is there something you want to know about them, or is this someone who you are waiting on to ask you out?)

Why??

They could worry that you are going to find something on their phone. Maybe you already have found out they are flirting with people online or maybe following pages or consuming media you aren't okay with. You could be really defensive toward this person right now. They are scared of your words.

They don't want to lose you. They may have always pictured their future with you in it. They don't want you to make any rash decisions. This person is scared of what happens if you do not accept their apology or offer. They don't want to "start all over," that probably means something different for each situation. But with the 7 of cups being clarified by the 2 of wands and 6 of cups, I think they would rather smooth things over with you. But they are aware it is possible they may have to move on.

TL;DR: Very tough energy to read so maybe this person does not show much emotion. This could be someone you consider an asshole. They could be a big flirt and could use social media to meet people. That could even be how you met. Or this could be the traits of a female friend you fell out with. This person could also be a gossip. They are scared of losing you. They are scared of having to start over if you do not forgive them or accept an offer.

I am trying to stay consistent with posting at least once a week. Kept this one a little shorter cause I have hella assignments 😬🥴

The next reading will be any one of the polls that are left from the poll. What will it be? Mwahaha

👛Tips are muy appreciated.

Ttys 😎😘

~ K

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iamwinklebottom · 2 months ago

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THEME: “Random Ass Messages?”

Choices:

1. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I keep hearing “Can’t Get You Out Of My Head” by Kylie Minogue: https://youtu.be/c18441Eh_WE?si=vfUS2-a-jjamnS81

In the past, you used to fall in love with unworthy people and easily become obsessed a lot. You healed from this and realized that you went through these karmic cycles so many times, so your heart won’t get stolen by unworthy beings anymore.

You are very high vibrational. Please be careful. Check your astrology chart and become familiar with it.

You may not realize it, but people become obsessed with you easily. If you’re in danger, please reach out to me if you want my professional help and services: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/conjure-services/30

Dealing with stalkers can be very weird and uncomfortable, but please understand what the situation tells you and is teaching you about the “human condition” and your future.

Low vibrational obsession is not attractive or cute, but many people don’t understand that. Protect yourself. Some stalkers genuinely do attack and even hate the people they’re obsessed with and cannot possess.

2. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I’m hearing a song I wrote. It’s personal and not public yet, but it’s about seeing a divine lover in a dream.

You need to start preparing yourself for love. I offer Divine Romantic Union Preperation services and Divine Love services: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/s/search?q=Divine%20

These magical services also help with being able to only accept high quality love and give high vibrational love to high vibrational beings who actually deserve it.

Some self love work will benefit you too + Beauty Conjure & Confidence Charisma Conjure: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/conjure-services/30

You really feel like you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. You’ve grown comfortable with that because of your past, but please understand that you specifically are meant to love and be loved genuinely. Great luck and much love to you.

3. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I’m hearing “Hey Joe” by Jimi Hendrix: https://youtu.be/biguQQBpHjY?si=fv1DGjjjUgf7fs1E

At first I felt feelings of nervousness. Like “oh god.”

I heard “hey Joe, where you goin wit that gun in yo hand… I’m going to shoot my old lady; I caught her messin round with another man,” but that was just my human self perceiving only the meaning of the song.

You’re safe. Don’t worry. I’m not channeling MUCH about violence.

The thing is, this message is about Jimi Hendrix himself. He was perceived as ONLY a talented, confident, and charismatic sex symbol. Yes, he had those traits, but he was honestly very shy and kind (he did become violent when his mental health started to decline, so continue to prioritize emotional stability please: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/product/-emotional-stability-conjure-service/260?cp=true&sa=false&sbp=false&q=true).

People will perceive your power and want you far away from them, but so close at the same time. You are a spectacle: a rare breed of being that people want to degrade and abuse, view up close with a glass between contact, or drag you into their personal space to hold forever. Be aware of this.

You must understand the vortex swirling around you and your existence. You are an odd starlight. It can be beautiful and healing, don’t let it become dangerous and unhealthy FOR YOU…

Prioritize evolution and development to assist you in this lifetime and the lifetimes after. Proper social navigation is necessary as well: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/product/-social-navigation-conjure-service/295?cp=true&sa=false&sbp=false&q=true

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kevinsdsy · 2 months ago

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Hi, can you feed me some more kevin/Shane or shawn/derek/Derrick hcs??

OF COURSE I CAN HEHEHEHE i got a bit carried away because you asked about BOTH shane/kevin & shawn/derrick/derek 🫣🏃🏻‍♀️💨

shane/kevin

shane & kevin dont see each other a lot so in my mind i have to work a lot with the post game tension when they do end up facing each other on court again

the two of them find themselves in an empty room and they both agreed beforehand they will have to stay professional but shane is a little shit and he keeps pressing kevin’s buttons

he’ll lean in real close in kevin’s personal space, brushes against him and makes comments about kevin’s footwork or passing on the court

kevin acts annoyed for like three minutes, reminding shane of their promise beforehand, until thinking whatever and they make out

shane posts a mirror selfie on social media except the mirrors are still a bit foggy and kevin can be seen in the background with a towel around his waste and a hand in his hair and fans go insane over it ((we have to keep the messy socmed tone in the headcanons))

sid i ever say they promised to be professional when they faced each other on court? because they lied. they’re casually flirting with each other during their match.

lets go back to the olympics for a bit. for a while there eas a vid going round with shane & kevin in the background of a random sports channel when they’re being very touchy and standing really close to each other

when they both go their separate ways kevin has this urge to keep talking to shane but he finds it hard to casually text about random things so instead he will slide into shane’s messages with unsolicited advice after shane plays a game.

shawn/derrick/derek

derek’s love language is physical touch

shawn’s love language is words of affirmation

derrick’s love language is acts of service

this is really important because derek is always touching one of them, leaning into their chests, kissing them, looking for a hand to hold and he absolutely melts under the touch

shawn needs to be told how good he’s doing or be told “i love you” like twenty times a day or he’ll go absolutely crazy

derrick takes care of them. he makes sure derek takes his medicines. he always gets shawn his coffee etc.

derrick is lowkey overprotective over shawn for the sole reason that he knows shawn will never take anything serious enough to take anything personal — so whenever people make a comment about shawn’s hyper character, or on the contrary sleepiness or whatever derrick’s always like 🤨 and what about it? what did u just say?

shawn doesn’t even realise it because like i said this man takes everything as a joke

derrick is the one always looking out for derek and making sure he doesnt skip taking his meds. (he always jokes about how derek and shawn would lose their heads if it wasn’t on their necks) but whenever derek takes his medication there’s a noticeable shift in his character and he gets quiter than usual and less energetic. mostly due to fogginess and tiredness, so whenever shawn notices this he dials back on his hyper character

((to me shawn knows he has a strong personality but he also knows when to dial it down which is why jean ((and derek)) enjoy his company so much))

#kevinsdsy’s inbox #shane reed #shane/kevin #shawn anderson #derek thompson #derrick allen #shane/derrick/derek #the trojans social media au

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studio52sblog · 8 months ago

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Learn how on-hold marketing can fuel your business growth. Explore effective strategies and insights to maximize your marketing potential with Studio52's expert guidance.

#telephone on hold messages for business #custom telephone hold message kuwait #telephone on hold messaging services #professional on-hold message service #on hold telephone marketing

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saganssorcery · 7 months ago

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Your reading will be delivered as a photograph and a detailed write up in your inbox or to your email account. I can usually fulfil requests within 72 hours. All readings are completely private and confidential. Please Direct Message me for any information you may need to get your reading underway. 𝗧𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘁 • 10 Card Celtic Cross spread £15 GBP

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Disclaimer: While the writing on this page is written by myself ©Sagans Sorcery 🔥🖋️ I borrow images from the internet. I do not claim or own any rights to the images I have used. All rights belong to the original creator(s) to whom I always attempt to credit. If you are the original creator(s) and wish for me to remove an image I have posted please send me a Direct Message and I will do so as soon as I see the message. The advice given on this page is by no means meant to substitute financial, legal, medical, or otherwise professional advice. If you have any problems that require financial, legal, medical, or otherwise professional advice, please seek a professional. All readings should be considered for entertainment purposes only. All readings are subjective and open to your own interpretation and judgement. All clients have their own free will and hold personal responsibility for any decisions made based on their reading. I reserve the right to remove anyone or anything from this page at any point, toxic behavior will not be tolerated and action will be taken accordingly. The use of any of my private magickal services require my consent first. Feel free to drop me a message. All direct messages are entirely private and confidential. Updated: 21/05/2024

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venturethighs · 2 months ago

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8/45 games and 0/8 progression levels but if I play anymore I'm going to [REDACTED] so here's cope instead

I'm so, so exhausted so I'm sorry if this is shittier than usual, my brain hurts and I don't want to think anymore 🫠

AFAB!reader as per the usual, Venture is an AFAB alpha so they still have a dick technically. Added animal characteristics (kemonomimi) for funsies, Venture is a fennec this time. Reader is left open to interpretation but is implied to have a longer tail (all omegas purr by default as well). Lotsa comfort, lotsa possessive sex. 🙂‍↕️

You anxiously turn once again in your canopied bed, surrounded on all sides by an opaque curtain with their scent lingering atop its fabric like powder. The canopy itself is an excellent nest– and it's so much easier to breathe inside than underneath the heavy blankets. They even added railing to the sides to prevent your comfort items from falling off. Now you live in comfort near 24/7.

Except today it seems.

It's almost sundown and your scent was beginning to seep through the walls and into your neighbors apartments. No matter how hard you scrubbed, no matter how hard you squeezed your legs shut, no matter how rough you rode the toy modeled after their own knot– nothing worked. You have a cooling blanket splayed across your flushed and heated figure now. All efforts to satisfy yourself have been utterly exhausted.

Your phone rings and you carefully reach for it, slick pouring out like a waterfall with every movement. A sweaty palm wraps around the surface before reaching to your equally wet face to answer the call.

"Hello?" You meekly answer.

"Hello? Is this [Y/N]?" The voice on the other side questions.

It's one of the apartment managers.

"Yes, that's me..." You silently sigh.

"I've gotten multiple calls about a scent radiating from your apartment and just wanted to make sure you were okay." The voice sounds sincere in their inquisition.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry." You reply.

"You certainly don't sound okay." You can hear them rustling around on the other side of the phone. "Are you sure you don't need emergency services? They can provide you an alpha for no charge."

The idea of being with another alpha makes your stomach sick.

"No. I don't need another alpha. I'll be fine, thank you." You insist.

The manager is silent for a moment. "Okay. If you need help, please just call."

"I will. Thank you." You inaudibly sigh one more time.

A whine leaves your throat as your head hits the pillow in defeat. More slick dampens your bed with your sweet scent and covers the knot toy in liquid desperation. Your hand sneaks in between your legs and traces heavy, quick circles around your throbbing clit but provides no lasting satisfaction. A gentle purr radiates from your throat in an attempt for your body to soothe itself.

You look at your smeared phone screen one more time.

One unread message. 📩

"I'm on my way."

_ One hour later. _

How many times have you ridden this toy again? Five? Six? Maybe seven times? It doesn't hit the same spot that their real knot does. Usually it does its job fairly well– it can hold you over for a couple hours while they're away– but this heat is borderline unbearable.

You've only left the security of your nest to drink water and use the restroom and so far you've nearly fainted every time.

The only reason you're getting up this time is to see who's on the other side of the door. It certainly isn't Sloan– they have a key– so whoever it was, it must be urgent.

You look into the doorbell camera and and spy a total stranger on the other side. They look professionally dressed: holding a case similar to that of an EMT but you couldn't make out the words on their uniform.

"Hello? Oh! There you are." They peep into the camera and smile. "I'm the alpha for hire someone called for, can I come in?"

Panic electrocutes your already frazzled nerves.

"No! I mean–" You scramble to recompose yourself. "I have an alpha. They're on their way. I'm sorry– I don't need your services." You explain.

They turn away to someone off screen. Then, your manager briefly appears and unlocks the door by force.

"No!" You yell.

You hold the door shut with all your strength, ears held against your head as your tail tucks itself between your overly lubricated legs.

"[Y/N]! Please don't fight us. We're only trying to help." Your manager calmly clarifies.

The alpha easily overpowers you and knocks you to the ground just by opening the door. You struggle to your hands and knees and look for anything you could cover yourself with for a sliver of modesty... but, there's nothing.

"Please! Don't look at me!" You cry. The manager simply locks the door behind them and crosses their arms, a worried expression scrawled across their face.

"It's okay, really, I'm a professional. I've seen way worse than this." They set down whatever they were carrying on a nearby table and begin searching for everything they need.

The apartment manager leans over and places a hand to your burning forehead. The coolness causes you breath a soft sigh of relief, but you tense back up when your body realize it isn't Sloan.

"Okay, a couple questions–" The alpha breaks the awkward silence. "Are you able to get pregnant? Any contraceptives?"

They ready a paper and pen.

"Yes, and yes I'm on contraceptives." You cover your chest with your arms. "It's not for you, though." You angrily frown.

"[Y/N], please, they're just doing their job." Your manager speaks up.

"I don't care! I have an alpha! They're on their way, I told you that! Why didn't you believe me?" You argue.

"Because your scent is bothering people!" The manager lowers their voice to avoid drawing attention from the neighbors. "Your scent has reached up to floor ten. Do you know what floor you're on? Floor three. Something has to be done."

You blush out of embarrassment.

"Alright. Do you have a nest?" The alpha readies themself to write down your next response.

"Yes, but it's not for you to use!" You continue fighting back to the best of your ability.

Your manager pinches her forehead in frustration.

"Any pain?"

"No."

One more minute of silence.

"Okay. I'm going to take you to your nest now, okay?" They approach you as if you were cornered wild animal.

You certainly felt like one.

"Put your hands on me and see what happens when they get here! They'll rip you to pieces!" You growl.

The alpha rolls their eyes and adjusts their stance. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I don't want to sedate you."

Their arms approach you but you wriggle backwards and kick wildly to fend them off. "Don't touch me! Do not touch me!"

"Last warning. Please, please, please don't choose this route." The alpha begs.

Fear floods the inside of your stomach and you have to fight yourself to not to be sick as the unknown alphas arms roughly wrap around you.

"Stop! Stop!" Tears stream down your face. You kick, thrash and scream at the top of your lungs for help.

A key inserts itself into the lock and turns.

It's so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

"Mi vida...?"

The first things you see are their fluffy ears against their espresso colored curls. Their honey colored eyes glaze over the scene before an indescribable rage explodes inside their body.

You cry out their name in relief. You squirm out of the unknown alphas grip and frantically crawl over to your beloved with wet cheeks and a ruby red face. Your arms wrap around their clothed leg and instantly their attention turns to you. Soft shushes, whispers of comfort in Spanish and English, reaching down to lift you up effortlessly as ever.

You cling onto them as if your life depended on it. You sob, deeply, inconsolably into their scented jacket. They stroke your back as best they could, trying to keep a firm grip on you at the same time.

Then they turn to the alpha and your manager.

"If you don't leave in the next ten seconds, you won't be alive to tell anyone what happened here." Their voice and face are devoid of any emotions.

No one is brave enough to challenge an extremely territorial alpha whose mate is that deep into heat.

Neither of them say a word.

The door locks behind them.

The next thing you know, you're back in your nest.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." They undress themself as fast as they can. Their clothes have already become intensely uncomfortable on their skin.

"Please don't apologize. It's not your fault." You reassure them.

The canopy curtain parts just enough so they can slide inside, then they readjust it so all the excess light is filtered out. You are instantly hit with the comforting smell of their scent blooming inside your nest. Slick pours out uncontrollably between your thighs and you sigh just by seeing their presence above you. Their tail excitedly wags– and their length already protruding and dripping with much unnecessary precome.

"You smell so delicious~!" They snicker. "Do you know that?"

You lose the ability to speak completely as their cool skin nuzzles up against your overheated body, but your arms are too tired to wrap around them and bring them closer. Audible moans followed by content purrs escape your tired throat. You felt like you could come just from their affectionate cuddles alone– and you do, a tiny bit– but it's not enough to quell the raging inner fire.

They reach underneath your chin with their finger and place a kiss to your lips.

"Ooh~ someone's purring pretty hard, hm?" They nestle against your neck and place playful kisses everywhere they can reach.

Each kiss rewards them a soft, contented sigh of relief. Sparks still fly inside your hips, adding to an already overwhelming blaze.

You open your mouth to beg, but all that comes out is a pitiful noise. A light laugh stirs from their chest.

"Okay, okay. I won't make you wait any longer." They press their cock firmly against your stomach so you can feel the intense throbs you bring them.

"So cute. So sweet– I can't get enough of your scent. And you're already scenting me so hard!" They tease you. "Are you ready?"

You nod enthusiastically. They grin in response.

They are true to their word: they lift both your legs up into the mating press position before effortlessly sliding themself inside of you. Their thrusts start off gently enough– but it's hard to control themself for very long– and every passing minute has you being pounded violently (yet lovingly) into the mattress.

"Ah–! You feel so good!" They whine. "So, so good!"

Your scent hits them at full force once again and their brain is swimming in alpha chemicals. Low growls and barks involuntarily escape their throat as they lean in and bite down hard to your neck right beside your mating mark. Pitiful purring joins alongside their chipper yips– you're both in absolute heaven.

"I'm trying to last as long as I can, mi alma... but you're making it very hard for me." They look at the lust filled expression on your beautiful face.

Your tail flicks wildly underneath you as a hand makes its way between your ears and pets you alongside their thrusts.

"I can tell you're close. You're gripping me so hard–" Their breath hitches for just a moment. "Just a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?"

You whimper. They're not sure if that's a yes or a no.

"You can do it. I know it feels good– Ah–!" They're cut off momentarily by an extra tight clamp around their cock. It throbs excitedly against your slick covered walls in response.

"It's so cute when you're so excited~!" They press kisses up against your face as more delicious noises fill the air. "So cute, so, so cute– I want to make sure you can't walk tomorrow–!"

You squeeze your eyes shut as more slick pours out of your stuffed hole. It feels better than any toy they could ever buy you, is it any wonder it didn't work anymore? They've ruined you by their real knot forever.

"Just kidding by the way." They pet your head again. "Can't have a completely bedridden omega, can we? You'd enjoy that a little too much. I spoil you too much as it is."

You slowly feel your body convulse as your orgasm grows closer and closer with each frenzied thrust. More spasms around their length– just long enough to hit that sweet spot over and over and over again. You can feel the tears from earlier coming back for a much better reason this time.

"Oh, is someone close? Look at that sweet face of yours!" They smile down on you with genuine love. "I know, I know. I'm close, too... I'm sorry for not lasting as long as I usually do."

They could not thrust any harder, deeper or faster than they already were. All you can do is focus on squeezing around their knot as it threatens to expand at any moment.

"It's okay. You can come– I want you to come for me. Whenever you're ready." They encourage you in the most saccharine sounding voice. "You're such a good omega for me."

It isn't long afterwards that even more slick leaks out from between your strained legs. Their hand delicately reaches out and clasps around yours, holding it tightly as you continue gripping their dick with every increasingly sporadic thrust.

"I can't– I can't hold back anymore– you feel too good, my omega feels so good–!" They yell. "So good, so good, so good, so good–" Their eyes roll back into their head.

Their words melt into barks. That flame inside your hips finally combusts and you shudder as you come at full force.

"Good! Good! Good for me!" Their tail wags so fast that it becomes a blur. "Sweet omega– my omega– mine, mine, mine–"

Their mind flashes back to the unknown alpha putting their filthy hands against your soft, supple skin. The rage that follows fuels them just enough to rail into you even harder– using all their force and strength to nearly break your shared bed in half.

You cannot even imagine how the poor downstairs neighbors must feel right now.

Well, it certainly couldn't be as nice as you– as they finally push themself over the edge in anger as their knot inflates deep within you. A warmth floods your insides as they drain every last drop of their seed inside of you and hold it there for you to take.

And only then do they feel like themself again.

They let go of your legs and let them fall uselessly to the bed as they cradle you in their toned, tattooed arms. A hand supports your head, petting your hair and ears, and they softly rock you back and forth for added comfort.

"Are you okay? That alpha scented you– I couldn't control myself–" They nuzzle your mating mark and give it soft licks and kisses.

You struggle to speak, but your voice finally manages to return after a minute or so. "I'm okay."

"You're not hurting anywhere? I'm sure I bruised you, but it's okay, I can go to the store and get some heat suppressants later so we can take a break–"

You shake your head.

"No pain. Doesn't hurt." You reassure them between shaky breaths. "Knot... feels... good."

More nuzzles and kisses plastered against your sweat soaked skin.

"Good. I love you– my omega." They murmur. "My omega. Mine." The alpha inside struggles for dominance within their mind.

"Shhh." It's your turn to give them the comfort they so desperately seek.

You're not strong enough to move your arms yet. You can only use your words this time.

"It's okay." You reassure them. "Can I– have– a– kiss?"

They happily oblige.

"One more."

They press their lips to yours again as you had asked.

"Good. More."

Repeated, gentle kisses fall against your lips like raindrops. It lasts for a few minutes before they have to stop and catch their breath.

"Mm." You give off as much scent as you could possibly muster before your arm slowly creeps up and touches their sensitive mating mark. "Love you."

They growl– but it's not from aggression nor out of pain. You trace it a little more with your weary fingers and continue letting off your scent until you see the light grow brighter in their beautiful sepia eyes again.

"Love you." You repeat. "Always."

They lean their head against your shoulder and feel tears forming as they sniffle.

"Good alpha." You coax them to let out all those bad emotions they've bottled up. "Safe– with– me."

You feel your strength leave your body again and your arm leans against the mattress for support. They continue their soft crying into your warm, glowing flesh.

"Tired. Sorry." You apologize.

They shake their head. "No, it's okay, just rest." They tell you.

"You too."

They nod this time. "Me, too."

#rambles #a/b/o #pet au

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