#reference to a restraining order
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givemedamage · 1 year ago
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they should go on a hate date or something
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nimblermortal · 1 year ago
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@athingofvikings Like this!
(the table on the right applies to free men only, and I did not include the supplements)
(women, of course, get and give nothing)
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jukeboxhound · 1 year ago
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Oof, court was intense this morning. A summary as well as today's affirmation:
A C A B
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astonmartinii · 5 months ago
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
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not-neverland06 · 6 months ago
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n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
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One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)
(one chance please, just one chance with him)
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“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”
Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 
You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 
At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 
Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 
You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 
You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 
It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 
But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…
You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 
Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 
“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 
Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”
“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 
You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 
There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 
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The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 
You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 
Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 
Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 
Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 
You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 
It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 
“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 
Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”
“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”
“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 
You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”
You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?
So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 
You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 
Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 
Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 
“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”
Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 
It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 
Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 
Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.
Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 
“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”
Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”
You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 
Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 
It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 
You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 
Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.
Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 
That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.
You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 
He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 
He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?
You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 
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You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 
You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 
You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 
You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 
“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”
He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 
It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”
“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 
There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”
The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 
You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 
“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.
He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”
You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 
You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 
You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 
You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 
You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 
You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 
It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 
Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 
“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 
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You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 
“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 
“That tree was a hundred years old.”
You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 
“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 
There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 
“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”
“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 
You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”
The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 
“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 
“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”
“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 
You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”
He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”
You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 
There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”
You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 
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Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 
Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 
Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 
Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 
But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 
There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 
“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 
“You look like shit.” 
Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 
“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”
“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 
“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 
“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”
You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 
“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”
Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 
You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 
This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"
Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 
“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 
You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 
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“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 
It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 
That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 
It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 
But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 
He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 
Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 
He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 
He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”
“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.
Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”
That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 
You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 
But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 
He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?
He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 
He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 
He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 
But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 
There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.
“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 
Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 
She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”
Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 
A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 
Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 
Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 
Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.
Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.
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You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 
Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 
“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 
You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”
He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 
Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 
He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 
You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 
You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 
You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”
He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”
You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 
“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 
He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 
But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 
He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 
“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 
You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 
Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 
Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 
You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 
You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 
One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 
He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 
You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 
He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 
You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 
You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 
It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 
He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 
His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 
Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 
You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 
You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”
Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 
He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”
You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 
Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 
The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 
You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 
He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 
You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 
But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 
“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 
“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”
You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”
You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”
“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 
He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 
You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 
But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.
You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  
It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 
You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 
He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 
And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”
He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 
You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 
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A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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feminist-space · 8 months ago
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"FACTUAL ALLEGATIONS
9. Plaintiff Alexander Morris is an African American man and is the lead singer of the famous Motown group the "Four Tops." At the time of the incident the Four Tops were on a national music tour with the Temptations and had recently performed at the Grammy Awards.
10. On or about April 7, 2023; Plaintiff was transported to the Ascension Macomb Oakland Hospital emergency room via ambulance, and he presented to the emergency room with difficulty breathing and chest pain, he was on oxygen, and he had a significant known history of cardiac disease including the placement of stints and defibrillator. During his hospitalization, Plaintiff was ultimately diagnosed with a heart infraction that may require a heart transplant, pneumonia, and he suffered three seizures during his stay.
11. When he presented to the emergency room Plaintiff informed a nurse and a security guard that he was a member of the famous Motown group the "Four Tops," and that he had current security concerns due to stalkers and fans.
12. Shortly after check-in a nurse Holly Jackson, a White male security guard Greg Ciesielski, and a White male emergency room doctor Brandon Harris Fishman, DO racially profiled him and/or profiled him based upon a perceived disability and placed an order for a psychological evaluation for Plaintiff because they did not believe he was a singer or member of the "Four Tops." Doctor Brandon Harris Fishman, DO, the emergency room doctor who was on staff met with Plaintiff and interviewed him, Plaintiff informed him of his medical history, and informed him that he was having difficulty breathing and chest pain. Defendants and Brandon Harris Fishman, DO wrongfully assumed he was mentally ill when he revealed his identity as a celebrity figure. Defendants and/or Brandon Harris Fishman, DO made the decision to remove him from oxygen and pursue a psychiatric evaluation instead despite his clear symptoms of cardiac distress and significant medical history.
13. Plaintiff had a valid identification on his person and could easily have been identified as a singer in the Four Tops group.
14. Brandon Harris Fishman, DO ordered a psychological evaluation for Plaintiff instead of ordering the emergency medical treatment he needed. Plaintiff was denied the emergency medical care he needed due to his heart condition and pneumonia, and instead a security guard was instructed to ensure he was placed into a restraining jacket and/or a four-point restraint mechanism, removed his belongings, and Plaintiff was told he was going to have a "psych eval" or psychological evaluation. Plaintiff was referred to Virjaya Gopal Kotha, MD for the psychological evaluation.
15. Plaintiff asked if he could prove his identity by showing his identification card, and the White male security guard ordered him to "sit his Black ass down." None of the nursing staff intervened to stop the racial discrimination and mistreatment of Plaintiff. Upon information and belief none of the nursing staff reported the mistreatment or use of the racial slur to a supervisor. Moreover, none of the nursing staff thought to simply ask for Plaintif's identification.
16. Plaintiff told medical staff he was having difficulty breathing and asked for the oxygen back but was ignored. Plaintiff asked to have the restraint device removed and asked for his personal belongings back so he could leave and seek treatment at another hospital, and he was told he was not free to leave; thus, he was falsely imprisoned and deprived of his personal property. During this time his medical condition continuously declined and he was denied the medical treatment he desperately needed.
17. Several security guards were called to surround the nursing station to ensure Plaintiff could not leave. During this entire incident Plaintiff was not being treated for his medical emergency, namely a severe heart condition and pneumonia. Defendant Hospital and Defendant Jackson blatantly refused to provide Plaintiff with medical treatment due to his race and/or perceived mental disability. Instead, Plaintiff received a deliberate misdiagnosis and received a lower standard of medical care based on his race that amounted to racial discrimination and delayed his actual diagnosis.
18. Finally, Plaintiff's wife came to the nursing station to collect his belongings and she saw what was transpiring and Plaintiff informed his wife that the doctors thought he was delusional. Plaintiff's wife informed one of the security officers that he was actually a member of the Four Tops, but he took no action on Plaintiff's behalf, and he was left in the restraints and denied medical treatment. A nurse came to Plaintiff's side, and Plaintiff asked to show the nurse the video of him performing at the Grammys. The nurse realized Plaintiff was a member of the Four Tops, and the nurse went and got the emergency room doctor to inform him. The emergency room doctor returned and said he was cancelling the psychological evaluation.
19. The restraint jacket was finally removed, and he was placed back on oxygen. Plaintiff was restrained for approximately an hour and a half or 90 minutes. As aforementioned, during his hospitalization, Plaintiff was ultimately diagnosed with a heart infraction that may require a heart transplant, pneumonia, and he suffered three seizures during his stay.
20. Plaintiff was offered a $25.00 gift card to Meijers as an apology for the dehumanization and discrimination he faced at the hands of the hospital. He refused to accept the gift card.
21. Subsequent to the incident, a security guard that worked at the hospital contacted Plaintiff and informed him that Greg Ciesielski the security guard that restrained Plaintiff and made the racist comment, made racist comments and jokes to him and other coworkers about African Americans, and that he frequently used excessive force with patients.
22. The security guard who called Plaintiff also reported that he witnessed employees tampering with the internal incident report made on the incident involving Plaintiff, and he believed the use of racial slur was removed from the internal incident report, and he stated that employees were instructed not to discuss the incident. The security guard also stated that Greg Ciesielski was not disciplined or suspended because of the incident.
23. As a result of the above actions and inactions of Defendants as described above and below, Plaintiff suffered injuries and damages. Defendants are sued jointly and severally."
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kykyonthemoon · 9 months ago
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How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter
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By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.
ಇ. Character x Reader/MC
Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb
ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.
ಇ. Word count: 4k3
ಇ. Requested by Krys.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 
"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."
The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.
The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:
“Now you are mine.”
The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:
“Please stop.”
Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.
"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."
Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.
"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.
"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."
Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip. 
“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game. 
"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.” 
"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”
Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?
“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”
The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.
Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.
Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.
Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.
"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"
You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.
“You… What are you doing?”
“Is that how you speak to a princess?”
You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.
“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”
"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."
He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"
"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”
Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:
“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”
Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:
“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."
But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.
“Is that all?”
"Huh?" 
“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”
Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”
Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.
“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.” 
You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.
“Entertain me then. Would you?”
Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear. 
“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”
Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging. 
“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”
At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 
Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.
He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.
Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes. 
Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.
“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”
“Oh, my Lumiere…”
A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him. 
In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.
“This… is mine!” 
You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.
"You… Why have you read my book?"
"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.
"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"
"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"
You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.
His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.
"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.
“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking. 
“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended. 
“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”
Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.
“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."
You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.
“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."
“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.
“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”
Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:
“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”
A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:
“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”
Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf. 
“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"
Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.
“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”
Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner. 
When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.
Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands. 
“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”
He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.
Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.
He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.
“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.
“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”
"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”
You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.
“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.
“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”
Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.
Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”
A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"
Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.
“Yes. Hello."
"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal. 
Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:
“I also want to refer to some things from there.”
You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”
Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away. 
"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."
“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”
You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.
Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.
“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”
“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"
You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.
Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.
Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.
“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."
You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.
“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.” 
You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.
“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”
As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"
Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."
“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 
During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.
While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:
“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”
“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”
You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.
“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”
You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”
“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."
“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"
You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.
"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”
He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.
"No way! This… You can't read it!”
Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away. 
“I said, you can't read it!”
The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.
He knew. 
He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.
A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.
In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.
“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”
“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”
You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat. 
“So you like romantic stories… like this?”
You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.
When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.
That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.
You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.
Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.
“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.
During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something. 
Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.
“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.
Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."
You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.
You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.
"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.
“Pip-squeak, don't go.”
You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.
“Do you still read that story?”
Your head shook slightly as an answer.
"How come? Why did you stop?"
“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"
Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.
“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”
He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.
“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.
“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”
He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in. 
At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him. 
If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.
“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”
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ylangelegy · 1 month ago
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a birthday drabble for @totomoshi 🤎🥨☕ sara, my love, i wish for you everything good and sweet! xo
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five-star (seungcheol x reader) ┆ word count: 686.
Your go-to coffee order is on the edge of your usual table. 
Wryly, you pick up the paper cup to inspect it. There’s nothing to indicate who the drink might be from.
A part of you wants to not look a gift horse in the mouth. A free drink is a free drink, after all. You’ve frequented this café enough to qualify as a regular, so any of the other frequent patrons are prime suspects. 
When you turn to the barista to ask, he’s already shaking his head. 
“No clue,” he says. 
“You make the drinks,” you respond accusingly. 
He flashes you a dimpled smile but offers nothing more. “I can at least assure you there’s no poison in it,” he says, drawing a light huff from you. 
“I’d give you a one-star rating if it did.”
“Oh, how ever will I live.” 
The bell over the entrance dings. Your good-natured bickering is cut short. When you take a sip, it’s just as he said. No poison, and exactly how you like it. 
This becomes a thing. At least twice a week, your drink is already waiting for you. Sometimes, it comes with a croissant. A chocolate chip cookie. A slice of cake, even. 
You let this drag on for about three months before deciding enough is enough. 
“I know it’s you, you know.” 
He looks up at you, one eyebrow arched upward. 
“Me?” he asks innocently. 
There’s no one else around. You had timed this, waited for the last of the customers to filter out before striking. 
“I know it’s you,” you repeat, gesturing vaguely. 
He gives a noncommittal hum in response. He’s already wrapping up for the day, folding his apron and packing away his name tag. 
Seungcheol, it says. 
“And yet you only decided to bring it up now?” he teases. 
You raise your shoulders in a shrug. There’s a small smile tugging at your face— the confirmation of his identity, sweeter than any of the pastries you’ve been gifted so far. 
“I liked getting free stuff,” you answer cheekily. 
Seungcheol’s eyes turn into crescents as he laughs. He’s obviously amused at your feigned ignorance. Perhaps even endeared by it. You can tell in the way he leans across the counter, trying to get a little closer to you; the way the corners of his lips tilt upward as he speaks. 
“And I like you,” he finally, finally confesses. “In case that hasn’t been made clear yet.” 
Something akin to a snort of laughter slides past your lips. “Could’ve told me earlier.” 
“I thought you liked the free stuff.” 
“Yeah, well, I would’ve liked a date much more.” 
And, oh, the way his smile breaks, then. It lights up his whole face. 
“Are you only saying that because I make good coffee?” he asks as he packs away his things, seemingly readying to leave with you. 
You realize that you wouldn’t mind.
“The coffee could be better—” you’re saying, but Seungcheol’s smile drops into a pout. 
“Yah!”
“Let me finish!” You clear your throat. “But the barista’s kind of cute.” 
Seungcheol’s lip is still jut out, though it twitches ever so slightly. When the two of you step out of his café, he hurriedly locks up before glancing down at you. 
“What’s it going to take to get a five-star rating from you?” His tone is half-joking, but you have some idea that he’s not referring only to his café. 
The two of you fall into step. Seungcheol’s shoulder brushes against yours, like he’s physically restraining himself from reaching out to hold your hand.
“Let’s start with that date,” you say, trying to maintain some semblance of coolness as Seungcheol seems to lead you to your destination for the night. “And then we can talk about your rating.” 
You’re playing it coy, playing it safe, but it’s hard to act nonchalant when Seungcheol is practically vibrating with excitement at your side. 
He grins down at you, all bright and warm and fond, and to hell with it. You smile back at him.
(He swears it’s better than any five-star rating in the world.) 
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whereonhermitcraftisjoel · 9 months ago
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joel and iskall go through a breakupo (???) and iskall begins his yandere ex gf arc around 4 hours and thirty something minutes in.
This week on hermitcraft: the anime: the harem isekai protaganist joel is being lusted after by at least five different people
I really can’t overstate how weird this is, and how thirty four minutes long it is. I wanted to cut it down but there's never thirty seconds w/out Joel (or Jimmy) talk. I guess I’ll put some clips on youtube? I haven’t even finished all my weird flirty mcc clips (including iskall/jimmy)
Real quotes:
Joel: "Secret relationship???" Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends." Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?" Joel: "Deal with it."
Iskall's Crazy Ex Arc Twitch link , 04:26:00
(he also does youtube vods so hopefully it will wind up there)
Timestamps:
04:25:47 - Joel logs on and heads to Iskall Iskall claims it’s all cool ha ha it’s a prank he’s fine 04:31:15 - Joel is gone, threatens restraining order over chat 04:34:55 - Iskall declares his Jimmy arc 04:37 - Iskall is trying to frame Etho 04:39 - Iskall starts writing crazed letters and sending them 04:44 - Joel is back 04:47 - Etho reference 04:54 - Joel leaves for good 04:55 - Iskall brainstorms ways to be very weird about Joel 04:58 - Iskall worried people won’t get the joke is he gets too weird about Joel
(some of the screenshots or my summary may have gotten a bit out of order)
Summary: Joel is back from Japan and has seen all the mail from Iskall. He logs on, Iskall starts flirting. Iskall tells his chat that ha ha it's all funny Joel doesn't realize it's all funny.
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Iskall explains why he thought he and Joel were in a "secret relationship" because of a prank and note Joel left him. Joel says it was not him. (His chat says it was False.) Joel seems utterly baffled and friendzones him. Iskall is also baffled.
Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends."
Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?"
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Iskall gets weird in chat, with Gem shouting and begging to get banned, Iskall sends Joel... crazy ex letters, I guess? I'm not screenshoting those, too many images, probably in his next ep.
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Iskall declares he's moving on to his Jimmy arc, with his beautiful hair and eyes.
(Note: Iskall and Jimmy spent a bunch of time together for the Hermit Charity Stream. Maybe Iskall saw him with others and said, "Oh I can get much more homoerotic with hermits, huh." I'm new to Iskall but my friends say his obsession was never quite so... romantic framed.)
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The previous day, on MCC, Iskall's first in three years:
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Iskall somehow thinks he can pin anything here on Etho.
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Iskall then tries to hire Joel to do armor stands and to sell him an apartment. Throughout all this, Etho is brought up several times.
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I recommend keeping Iskall's chat up, it's not overwhelming and pretty fun. I've got some more chat quotes below the cut
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poessiblyfedya · 2 months ago
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◟fushiguro toji x fem!reader, blowjobs & beefy men, 1.1k words. ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dom!toji, (ooc) toji - he deserves his own warning, probs doesn’t fit canon au but who cares its porn, sweet little baby reader in a short skirt, size difference (insinuated that reader is smaller than toji), reader referred to as 'girl,' petname (baby), degradation (whore), blowjob, dacryphilia, not proofread !
꒰ minors & ageless blogs dni ! 18+ content ahead !꒱
“yeah, that’s it-” his hoarse voice is momentarily cut off as his gaze trail down your figure, watching you hopelessly tiptoe for that last canned food on the kitchen shelf, “need a hand?”
you scowl, your glossy lips pursed as you send a narrowed look over your shoulders and toji could almost chuckle. almost. he doesn’t, instead those sharp eyes darken and linger on the exposed fat of your ass that peeks out from under the short skirt you’re dressed in - you 100% knew what you was doing and toji wasn’t stupid.
“i can handle it myself, ‘ji.” you mumble, trying to disguise the pout in your voice as you keep reaching, small whimpers of frustration starting to bubble in your throat. sure seems it, toji scoffs mentally, thick arms crossing over his broad chest as he continues to watch. he has no idea how he ended up with such a persistent little thing, unable to ask for a hand to the point where it frustrates him but as the tent in his grey sweats grows, toji knows that no matter how much you seem to piss him off, you can fix it just as well.
he watches you, observant in the way that tiny skirt sways with your wiggles, the plush of your thighs on perfect display for him. a groan escapes his lips, catching your attention as he shoves a chair out from underneath the table, throwing himself down into it. you’ve been with toji long enough to read his actions, his emotions too. he’s not adherently upset with you, no, you can see that by the prominent bulge that could almost have neon arrows pointed at it.
suddenly, your focus is shifted and god, if he wasn’t so stoic and grumpy, you’d be able to see the way he could grin at the little sparkle in your eyes illuminated by the sun coming through the kitchen window behind him. you don’t need to be told, although he likes to give the order sometimes - you’re already sinking down onto your knees before toji gets a chance to part those mildly cracked lips.
his tongue darts out, wetting his lips and running along his scar and a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, “what? see something you like, baby?”
you was almost drooling, salivating when you pushed your soft cheek up against his bulge. the warmth matches that of your flustered state, pressing sweet kisses along his clothes length and toji almost growls. the feral noise resonates deep in his throat, his big, calloused hands wanting to reach out and grab your hair - he restrains himself. it takes him a lot of effort but he manages it, staring down at the way your long eyelashes flutter around your half-lidded eyes, brushing up against his sweats.
“always…” you mumble softly, your voice sweet like honey when your much smaller hands grab at the hem of his sweats and pull- no, tug the fabric just down his thick thighs, the muscles tensing slightly under your touch. heavy cock standing at attention, bobbing against the dark happy trail on his abdomen, toji finally sits back properly until the chair creaks. he’s always commented about the size of these damn chairs, too small for a man of his stature but perfect for a little doll such as yourself.
it amazes the buff man how easily you’re almost hypnotised by the sight of his cock every damn time it springs free, no matter how many times you’ve seen it or how long you’ve been together. it’s like a moth to a flame, a cat to its favourite toy or even a child receiving a present - you really do love this dick, huh?
toji's thoughts are cut short when your warm tongue licks up the vein of his cock, starting at the base and following its way up, up, up until it circles around the angry red tip. the action draws a hiss from his mouth, dark brows knitting together as those glossy lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue around it before sinking further and further down the length. your nose buries into the thick pubes at the base, inhaling the familiar musky scent that has your eyes rolling back; other than the thick cock of your partner shoved to the back of his throat.
finally, a large hand reaches up to grab the hair at the back of your head. his fingers find purchase there, nails scratching at your scalp and he groans, loud and deep in his throat, "that's it, y'got a real filthy mouth y'know that?"
he could almost chuckle at the way your eyes - now hazy - peer up at him from this position, a slight gloss along the waterline that makes him grin. after a few more seconds, you pull your head off with a gasp, saliva stringing from your lips to his fat cock with a sinful giggle breaking the tense silence. toji's narrowed eyes follow the way you swallow, placing sloppy kisses on his heavy balls cupped in your hands.
not that toji would ever admit it, he could never admit it to anyone because god forbid his ego would be bruised but seeing you like this, so cockdrunk and littering him in kisses and kitten licks as if he's a piece of candy, it truly has him all heart eyes for you; just like he falls in love with you a little more every time he feasts on the sight of your drooling lips and his cock shoved into your tight warmth.
crystalline tears pool in the corners of your eyes when toji drags his hips back and forth, testing the waters every time pubes tickle your upper lip. the sight above you is sinful, the sunlight behind toji casting a glow around his shadow like some holy figure, someone for you to worship on your knees - you could do that. you gag with every jagged movement of his hips with the placement of your small hands on his muscular thighs. toji's aware he's pushing limits - hell it's his favourite thing to do - but he's watching, observing your actions and movements. the hands on his thighs, the tears running down your cheeks, no matter what you haven't tapped on his thigh, you haven't pushed yourself away.
"c'mon girl, you can take it better than that, can't you?" he scoffs, fingers digging into your hair just a little tighter at the sight of a spark in your eyes, something igniting deep in you that he knows he can fan the flame, "what? is that pretty little whore mouth too full of my dick for you to speak?"
he wants to chuckle - he might chuckle, actually because the moment those words escape his mouth, his voice husky from the sensations in his lower half, he notices the way your thighs clench together and one of your dainty hands travels down under your skirt.
dinner can wait. suddenly, something is much more appetising to the likes of toji and with your whimpers and choking as the melodic backdrop, he has no intentions of stopping without his fill.
── just a repost from one of my old blogs to fill the space , i'll be reposting quite a few old works ! ! . .✦
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© manacia 2024 ⸝⸝ reblogs appreciated ⸝⸝ please do not reupload, translate, etc. my works on other sites !
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dunmeshistash · 4 months ago
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Interview to celebrate the opening of the Ryoko Kui Exhibition
About Delicious in Dungeon: Story making
Q1. Your first long-running series has lasted for about 9 and a half years. Has it been different from your previous experience drawing short stories?
A1. Compared to short stories, the series has been easier because the same characters appear each time. But I was surprised to find that I got tired of drawing the same characters too many times.
Q2. You have said before that the overall structure of the story was decided before serialization began, but how much of that had you communicated to your editor? Also, what kind of communication did you have during the series production?
A2. The goal was something we discussed and had decided on from the beginning. The goal itself was simple, but the path to get there was more difficult and took longer than imagined.
Q3. Regarding the overall story concept and development, did you write out or put anything down in writing (such as the plot)?
A3. I did, but it was simple.
Q4. Did you come up with the dishes based on the monsters you wanted in the story? Or did you come up with the monsters based on the dishes?
A4. It depended on the story, but usually the story came first followed by the monsters or food. I feel like that was most often the order.
Q5. As you progressed in drawing the series, what elements of the characters, story, or world expanded or grew in the most unexpected way?
A5. Nothing particularly unexpected perhaps. When I used to draw web manga, I tended to think up inconsequential settings. So, from the beginning I tried to restrain myself as much as possible and not expand too much. I was surprised when my editor said "Let's expand it more," in the second half of the series.
Q6. "Delicious in Dungeon" starts with a relatively simple setting, but as the series and the labyrinth exploration continues, the map slowly expands little by little in the readers' minds. It becomes more three-dimensional, revealing the secrets of the world, and taking on a multilayered structure. Are there any sources that you used as a reference, or which influenced you in creating this multilayered structure?
A6. A long time ago, when I was working on my personal web manga (fantasy), I drew it however I wanted, thinking that "Only people who can read this will read it," but I regularly received feedback that it was "unreadable", so I tried to make it as easily. accessible as possible.
Q7. The series combines many elements, including "fantasy", "gourmet", "battles", and "puzzle solving", but I think it's also important that it is a "comedy" which makes people laugh. Could you let us know if you have a creative commitment towards depicting humor?
A7. My hopes are that I can make it fun for people to read.
[page 5]
About Delicious in Dungeon: Drawing manga
Q1. Please tell us about the drawing tools you currently use, both digital and analogue.
A1. In terms of analogue tools, I use a light box, a G pen, a round pen, and a brush pen. And for digital, I use CLIP STUDIO PAINT and a Wacom LCD tablet. Screentone pasting is always done on the computer, so ultimately it all ends up as a digital manuscript.
Q2. Do you have any rules or reasons for using digital and analog separately?
A2. I'm always looking for ways to draw better and save time, so the exact approach is probably different for almost every chapter. Personally, I feel that analogue methods create more appealing lines, but I feel like digital saves time, so maybe I'll do a digital rough sketch and do the inking by hand… I might have been using a G pen, and maybe I'll try out a turnip pen, or this time I'm short on time so I'll draw it entirely digitally, but with digital I can redo it over and over, so maybe analogue is still faster, and so on and so forth. I'm indecisive in this way and so haven't developed a consistent process.
Q3. I understand that you prepare 3D data for your assistants to draw the backgrounds. What kind of data did you make for "Delicious in Dungeon" ?
A3. You could call it 3D, but it's not a proper model, just something to help with the rough sketching. I line up cubes to share the perspective and sense of scale, and they use it as a reference.
Q4. At the beginning of the series, the characters and backgrounds were somewhat simply drawn, and it seems like they became richly detailed over the progression of the story. What was your intention behind using these different styles?
A4. It's simply that my technique isn't stable. I thought I'd put a lot of effort in at the start. I remember being confused when my editor asked me to add more in to the drawing, and I wondered "Where…?"
Q5. Thinking about the food, were there any menu illustrations that you were particularly satisfied with, or which you struggled with?
A5. I've never liked my own food illustrations. But the times when I read other people's manga and thought "That looks delicious," I think it's been more an influence of the movement, the staging, and the situation than the drawings.
Q6. For the world maps and the terrain of each continent, did you refer to any maps of the real world? I feel like the shape of the 'island' is similar to the shape of Fukuoka Prefecture or Kyushu.
A6. I didn't reference any specific geography, but I did try to put thought into things like whether a developed city would be near a river or the sea, and what the coastline would look like. I'm pleased if it feels similar to a real place, because it means my interpretation was pretty accurate.
About Delicious in Dungeon: Other
Q1. Which is your favorite monster?
A1. Nightmare.
Q2. I'm sure you have received a lot of feedback from readers in countries and regions outside of Japan. Please tell us if there was anything from them that made you happy, was unexpected, or which made a lasting impression on you.
A2. When you play foreign games, there are times when you think "Why did they translate it into Japanese like that?" But having been on the side of having something translated, I've realized some things are unavoidable, or endless, and there are many things that don't matter either way from the author's perspective, so it was interesting.
About Ryoko Kui's short story collections and herself
Q1. Dragons are a consistent and important motif in your work. Was there any particular work or experience which inspired this? Also, are there points about drawing dragons which you find interesting or have had to work hard on?
A1. It's less about liking dragons, and more that I'm interested in the worlds in which dragons exist. When I draw dragons, the depiction in itself has a sweet feeling to it. I have never had a pet reptile, so I don't have a very good understanding of them.
Q2. Unomiya University in your story "The dragon's school is on top of the mountain" has a Faculty of Dragons, Department of Environmental Studies, and Department of Technology Studies, and a Faculty of Veterinary Medicine. If you were to enroll in the university, which department or faculty would you like to enter?
A2. I probably wouldn't be accepted….
Q3. The collection includes a short story staged as an essay manga. Are you a fan of essay manga? Please tell us about any genres of essay manga that you like.
A3. I love all kinds of essay manga. I read them often.
Q4. If you were to make your own game, what kind of game would you like to make?
A4. I prefer being a player when it comes to games.
Q5. When did you first start drawing illustrations (doodles)?
A5. I don't exactly remember when I first drew a picture, but I think I started drawing manga around the fourth or fifth grade of elementary school. in my notebooks and had my friends read them.
Q6. What is the most fun part about drawing manga?
A6. Every part is fun and hard in its own way.
Q7. Please tell us if there is anything you "just can't stop no matter what".
A7. My procrastination habit.
Q8. Could you please tell us if there's something you want to draw now?
A8. I've been working continuously since the serialization, so I'd like to take about 2 to 3 months to just draw whatever I want.
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misserabella · 1 year ago
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okay so imagine bondage with ellie or abby. just… god.
tie me up
abby anderson x fem reader!
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cw; +18 content, minors dni!!!, bondage, masturbation (abby), lots begging, praising, teasing, face riding, oral sex (abby receiving), cum eating, fingering (reader), multiple orgasms, strap on sex (reader receiving), feral rough sex, dirty talking, strap referred as abby’s cock, hair pulling…
okay but how abby would get off by having you open and ready for her unable to move a single muscle?
you’d be on your shared bed, legs open yet ankles tied to the side of it, just like your hands, over your head. you were unable to even get some friction, some relief for your aching and throbbing leaking cunt.
“you look so pretty baby…” abby grunted, sitting on a chair in front of you, staring at your exposed and flushed body. your hair was softly laying on the pillows, your chest rising and lowering heavily, making your tits bounce, perky swollen nipples due to her prior sucking and playing shining in spit. she was naked as well, strong thighs spread as one of her hands touched her drooling pussy. her fingers dipped in her soaked folds, fingertips teasing her clit. “pussy so wet and ready for me. she’s dripping. can’t wait to fuck all your cum outta you. gonna look so good on my cock, gonna fill you up so nice and slow…”
“fuck, abby please…” you couldn’t drift your eyes away from her. you were aching to be touched, dying to be fucked. you wanted to feel her, taste her. “need you. need you please.”
“yeah? you need me baby? tell me what you need.” she ordered and you whimpered.
“need to taste you.” you breathed out. “can you sit on my face? please, sit on my face abby, please…”
“you want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours? want me to make a mess outta you?” you nodded, biting down on your lip. “such good manners, asking for what you want so nicely… i might just give it to you.” your eyes shone as she got up. you stared at her toned abdomen, at her little and perky tits and broad shoulders. her blonde mound hid the slick that now drenched her thighs, the thighs that were now slowly straddling you, creeping up your body to lay at each side of your face.
you opened your mouth for her when she pressed her thumb on your bottom lip, sucking it and swirling your tongue around it. you moaned when your eyes met her drooling folds, her little throbbing and puffy clit. you wanted to devour her. your hands tried and grab her, push her down onto your mouth, only to tug against your restrains. “speak up doll. use your words.”
“sit.” you pleadingly whimpered once she had pulled her thumb out.
“pull your tongue out for me baby, get ready for it.” you followed, showing her your tongue, making her grunt at the sight. “so fucking needy…” she then finally lowered herself onto your mouth, your tongue slotting in between her pink folds. you moaned at the taste, and her at the feeling, one of her hands gripping the head board of the bed and the other lacing in your hair to tug. “oh shit just like that, eat my pussy baby.” she didn’t have to ask. you were starving for her, lapping at her slick as if it were water in the desert. “fuuuuck.” she moaned at your eagerness, slowly rocking herself against your tongue, making you hum as you sucked on her clit.
your hands tugged once again against the restrains. you needed to touch her. but you couldn’t. and somehow, it just turned you on so much… the pain of being so close yet unable to put your hands on her thick thighs, your fingers plugged deep inside on her wet and warm cunt…
you whined, your hips bucking against the air in need of some friction. you could feel the sheets dampening under you, soaked through.
your tongue pushed inside her as she humped your mouth, fucking herself on your tongue, groaning.
you were pussy drunk, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you slurped on her juices and mouthed ay her folds. she looked at you, so turned on by how you were eating her out… she loved it when you’d get like this.
you suckled on her clit, using your tongue to flick it and hearing abby moan. “fuck. i’m close princess.” you increased the pace, flattening it for her to ride it, her thrusts against your mouth getting harsher and her thighs shaking as her orgasm rapidly grew. it didn’t take long for her to gush all over your face, grunts and moans leaving her lips as she rode it on your tongue. you let her, moaning at the salty cum filling your mouth, drinking everything she’d give you. “so good…” she sighed, abs flexing and thighs shaky as she finally stood up on her knees, looking at your messy and fucked out state. “look at you. already so fucked out and i haven’t even dicked you down yet…” she smirked, leaving her position on top of you, positioning herself in between her legs, her blue eyes on your pussy as she licked her lips. “ate me out so well, baby… i think you need a reward, don’t you think?” your back arched when her fingers dipped in between your folds. “so sensitive.” you moaned. it felt so fucking intense you swore just by a mere touch you could cum. “so wet…” your cheeks flushed at the slick sounds your pussy made as her fingers dragged in between your folds.
you whimpered, your hips rutting against her touch, needing more. she complied, easily pushing two of her fingers inside of your cunt and curling them to hit your g spot. you couldn’t help it. before you knew you were cumming on them with a pornographic and loud moan. abby’s eyes widened, feeling your walls clench and convulse around her fingers, thighs shaking and back arching. she didn’t have words. “did you just…?” you were panting as your climax died down, hearing abby grunt before she was ramming her fingers inside you once again. you screamed. “fuck. cumming just by a little touch… you really enjoy this don’t you? being all tied up for me, sitting pretty like a little doll for me to use...” you nodded, bitting your lip.
“yes, yes, fuck, yes!”
abby relished on how your pussy squelches as she thrusted her fingers harshly into you, tits bouncing and moans spilling from your lips.
“abby. need you. need your cock, please…” you begged, stuttering, crying. you were a mess for her. you were her mess.
“yeah? you want my cock, princess? want me to split you open?” you whimpered, and nodded once again, crying once she pulled her fingers out of you to grab her strap and buckle it around her hips. she hushed you. “feeling empty, baby? don’t worry. i’m gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel me for a whole week, gonna break you, mold you to my cock so good…” you cried out when you felt the tip prodding against your entrance, your legs and arms pulling at the restrains when she plunged inside with a grunt. all breath left your lungs, feeling so full it almost hurt. but it hurt so good. “thaaats it. fucking take it.” she watched as your lips stretched around the silicone as she slowly moved her hips, thrusting inside once again, nice and deep. this pace didn’t last though. it didn’t take long before she was ramming into you like an animal, fucking your brains out. the squelches of your pussy taking her drove her feral, her hands harshly gripping your hips, leaving marks. her eyes met the bulge on your lower stomach, and she pressed against it, making your vision turn white and your back arch with a scream. “you feel that? feel how deep i am inside you baby?”
“abby, i’m gonna cum!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks and neck, wrists hurting for fighting against the rope.
“yeah that’s right. cum for me. cream my cock, doll, want to see it drip.” your orgasm crashed over you with a scream that ripped your throat, your thighs shaking as she rammed into you over and over again so harshly you felt like bruising, felt her on your cervix. “that’s it. good girl. good. fucking. girl.” she grunted in between thrusts, fucking every last and single drop of cum out of you.
your whole body was felt boneless and exhausted by the time your high had come to an end and abby had pulled out, watching your cum soaking her strap and dripping down onto the sheets.
and when she looked into your eyes, she knew that it wouldn’t be the last time you two would do this.
-
a/n; 🎀 want her to use me as her little doll<3
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oceanreveuse · 5 months ago
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𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗴𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶.
◟fem!reader, dom!toji, sub!reader, (ooc) toji - he deserves his own warning, probs doesn’t fit canon au but who cares its porn, sweet little baby reader in a short skirt, size difference (insinuated that reader is smaller than toji), reader referred to as 'girl,' petname (baby), degradation (whore), blowjob, dacryphilia, not proofread + based on my beefy men post here ◟anastasia's footnote : happy late 100 followers! it’s been a really difficult few months for me mentally and i’ve struggled to wrangle some writing fairies but i’m ever thankful for your support! mwah, many kisses - anastasia xox
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“yeah, that’s it-” his hoarse voice is momentarily cut off as his gaze trail down your figure, watching you hopelessly tiptoe for that last canned food on the kitchen shelf, “need a hand?”
you scowl, your glossy lips pursed as you send a narrowed look over your shoulders and TOJI could almost chuckle. almost. he doesn’t, instead those sharp eyes darken and linger on the exposed fat of your ass that peeks out from under the short skirt you’re dressed in - you 100% knew what you was doing and toji wasn’t stupid.
“i can handle it myself, ‘ji.” you mumble, trying to disguise the pout in your voice as you keep reaching, small whimpers of frustration starting to bubble in your throat. sure seems it, toji scoffs mentally, thick arms crossing over his broad chest as he continues to watch. he has no idea how he ended up with such a persistent little thing, unable to ask for a hand to the point where it frustrates him but as the tent in his grey sweats grows, toji knows that no matter how much you seem to piss him off, you can fix it just as well.
he watches you, observant in the way that tiny skirt sways with your wiggles, the plush of your thighs on perfect display for him. a groan escapes his lips, catching your attention as he shoves a chair out from underneath the table, throwing himself down into it. you’ve been with toji long enough to read his actions, his emotions too. he’s not adherently upset with you, no, you can see that by the prominent bulge that could almost have neon arrows pointed at it.
suddenly, your focus is shifted and god, if he wasn’t so stoic and grumpy, you’d be able to see the way he could grin at the little sparkle in your eyes illuminated by the sun coming through the kitchen window behind him. you don’t need to be told, although he likes to give the order sometimes - you’re already sinking down onto your knees before toji gets a chance to part those mildly cracked lips.
his tongue darts out, wetting his lips and running along his scar and a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, “what? see something you like, baby?”
you was almost drooling, salivating when you pushed your soft cheek up against his bulge. the warmth matches that of your flustered state, pressing sweet kisses along his clothes length and toji almost growls. the feral noise resonates deep in his throat, his big, calloused hands wanting to reach out and grab your hair - he restrains himself. it takes him a lot of effort but he manages it, staring down at the way your long eyelashes flutter around your half-lidded eyes, brushing up against his sweats.
“always…” you mumble softly, your voice sweet like honey when your much smaller hands grab at the hem of his sweats and pull- no, tug the fabric just down his thick thighs, the muscles tensing slightly under your touch. heavy cock standing at attention, bobbing against the dark happy trail on his abdomen, toji finally sits back properly until the chair creaks. he’s always commented about the size of these damn chairs, too small for a man of his stature but perfect for a little doll such as yourself.
it amazes the buff man how easily you’re almost hypnotised by the sight of his cock every damn time it springs free, no matter how many times you’ve seen it or how long you’ve been together. it’s like a moth to a flame, a cat to its favourite toy or even a child receiving a present - you really do love this dick, huh?
toji's thoughts are cut short when your warm tongue licks up the vein of his cock, starting at the base and following its way up, up, up until it circles around the angry red tip. the action draws a hiss from his mouth, dark brows knitting together as those glossy lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue around it before sinking further and further down the length. your nose buries into the thick pubes at the base, inhaling the familiar musky scent that has your eyes rolling back; other than the thick cock of your partner shoved to the back of his throat.
finally, a large hand reaches up to grab the hair at the back of your head. his fingers find purchase there, nails scratching at your scalp and he groans, loud and deep in his throat, "that's it, y'got a real filthy mouth y'know that?"
he could almost chuckle at the way your eyes - now hazy - peer up at him from this position, a slight gloss along the waterline that makes him grin. after a few more seconds, you pull your head off with a gasp, saliva stringing from your lips to his fat cock with a sinful giggle breaking the tense silence. toji's narrowed eyes follow the way you swallow, placing sloppy kisses on his heavy balls cupped in your hands.
not that toji would ever admit it, he could never admit it to anyone because god forbid his ego would be bruised but seeing you like this, so cockdrunk and littering him in kisses and kitten licks as if he's a piece of candy, it truly has him all heart eyes for you; just like he falls in love with you a little more every time he feasts on the sight of your drooling lips and his cock shoved into your tight warmth.
crystalline tears pool in the corners of your eyes when toji drags his hips back and forth, testing the waters every time pubes tickle your upper lip. the sight above you is sinful, the sunlight behind toji casting a glow around his shadow like some holy figure, someone for you to worship on your knees - you could do that. you gag with every jagged movement of his hips with the placement of your small hands on his muscular thighs. toji's aware he's pushing limits - hell it's his favourite thing to do - but he's watching, observing your actions and movements. the hands on his thighs, the tears running down your cheeks, no matter what you haven't tapped on his thigh, you haven't pushed yourself away.
"c'mon girl, you can take it better than that, can't you?" he scoffs, fingers digging into your hair just a little tighter at the sight of a spark in your eyes, something igniting deep in you that he knows he can fan the flame, "what? is that pretty little whore mouth too full of my dick for you to speak?"
he wants to chuckle - he might chuckle, actually because the moment those words escape his mouth, his voice husky from the sensations in his lower half, he notices the way your thighs clench together and one of your dainty hands travels down under your skirt.
dinner can wait. suddenly, something is much more appetising to the likes of toji and with your whimpers and choking as the melodic backdrop, he has no intentions of stopping without his fill.
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© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.
◟the waves call for . . . @kentophilia @kokonoiis @reonaissance
[ the magazine is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]
bonus:
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causticsodaa · 3 days ago
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Sakura and Suo stopping each other
That’s it. That’s the title of the post.
This probably isn’t intentional and is just me reading too into both of these scenes, but I speculate these particular moments in Chapter(s) 50 and 75 have many similarities + differences at the same time and could parallel each other, or at least show how Suo and Sakura’s relationship has subtly developed over time.
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For starters, both of these scenes open with Sakura/Suo looking out for each other amidst their battle, with the other person too pre-occupied to notice their concern.
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These scenes also involve someone losing control during their fight (with KEEL being Suo, and Roppo having Kanji almost punching Sakura)
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Suo and Kanji are stopped; however, it is Sakura who restrains Suo, while Kanji gains back his self control before he can manage to hit Sakura.
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Then we get a few pages of exposition which involves Sakura/Kanji refocusing their priorities (I’m being brief about this because this part isn’t that important right now lol)
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It’s also important to note that Sakura’s allies were being overwhelmed before these two moments, causing him to be more alert/distressed:
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And we have the obligatory dead wife flashbacks, of course.
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The main thing that sets these scenes apart, however, is when Sakura and Suo interfere with each other, and the context behind it.
In KEEL, Sakura stops Suo from losing control, insisting that there are more important things to do rather than focusing on one person (even though Nirei had been hurt)
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Though Suo questions Sakura at first, we can see how quickly his thoughts shift when Sakura admits that he’s really mad at himself [for failing as a leader].
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We see Suo calming down the more Sakura talks (even though he tries to escape from his grasp in the middle of it). Suo soon rationalizes and agrees with Sakura, even teasing him in classic Suo fashion to deflect from his strong outburst earlier.
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Then we get one out of the two meaningful introspections that we’ve received from Suo so far right after:
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Keep in mind, most of Suo’s internal dialogue have consisted of one-off quips about the situation around him, with them being enclosed in thought bubbles.
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We barely see any sort of meaningful internal dialogue from him otherwise (compared to the other prominent characters such as Nirei, Ume, Tsubaki, Endo, and Sakura who is the MC) This writing choice is probably deliberate in order to keep the mysterious/unknown aspect of his character consistent.
The only other time we see this from Suo is in Noroshi, and his introspection is, once again, about Sakura.
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This moment in KEEL is not only important for Nirei and Sakura’s developments, but it is also highly important for Suo; especially because we see two hidden aspects of his character drawn out by Sakura and Nirei. In essence, Chapter 50 main focus is on Suo, a character who is so closed off and ambiguous, and brings him to the limelight (given that the chapters title is literally named ‘Extreme Emotions’, which refers to Suo’s outburst).
In Roppo Ichiza however, things are different. This scene mainly focuses on Sakura, since we constantly see his internal dialogue echo throughout the chapter.
When Kanji gives out his orders, we can see Sakura doubt himself, both internally and externally. Suo, being the observant person he is, probably picked up on this.
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So when Kanji yells his cue, Suo immediately rushes to grab Sakura’s hand and drags him to Shizuka, instead of letting him follow Suo himself.
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Unlike KEEL, this interaction is very blunt and straightforward. It is a simple one-pager, rather than the multiple paged dedicated to their previous confrontation in the shipyard. Though Sakura protests, Suo merely reassures him of their main objective, and Sakura just lets Suo take him away.
We even see Sakura verbally resisting, while Suo had physically resisted before.
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But after Suo says his words, Sakura immediately doubts himself again, wishing that he could do more in this situation.
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I believe that this contrasts Suo’s introspection back in Chapter 50. Though Suo looks up to Sakura and even feels that he can never compete with him, Sakura himself doesn’t even think he’s enough [as a person]. It really shows how the other people in Sakura’s life really respect him, while Sakura can’t even respect himself.
In the end, Suo and Sakura look out for each other in times of need, and guide each other when necessary despite resistance; a push and pull relationship.
Also, it’s really cute how Suo and Sakura didn’t even let go of each other in the next chapter. Like Shizuka is right there, what are you guys even doing lol
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thesilmarillionblog · 2 months ago
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𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟏𝟎
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: +18!, SMUT!, angst, hurt, memory loss, language, handjob, kinda sexual frustration, butcher is a liar, reader is manipulated, reader is confused, naive reader
Word Count: 9172
A/N: English is not my first language.
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Even though you still needed some sleep, you reluctantly woke up because you felt uncomfortable in Soldier Boy's strong grip and had to warn him to release his hold or he would end up killing you. It was difficult to communicate since you had remained uninformed of his real name, and he was adamant about keeping it under wraps. It would be strange to refer to him as a ‘Soldier Boy’ given all of the intimate memories you have of him.
You sighed audibly in frustration when you finally shifted since his hold was not easing at all. You were annoyed that he didn't care and continued to sleep, so you pleaded, “Can you just let me breathe?” Finally, Soldier Boy released his hold after making an extravagant noise. However, this time, he made you sleep on him by turning you around. You may have believed you were sleeping on a winter bear because of how loudly he was breathing.
You closed your eyes again and murmured softly, relieved at how much control he had despite being unconscious and finally relaxing. You groaned when his hand reached your ass and began to knead it with deep moans. His body was already awake, but he was still in a deep sleep. When his hardness poked your thigh, your cheeks flushed, and you whimpered as you opened your eyes once more. His face was serious when you looked at him, though he wasn't awake. He didn't appear to be sleeping peacefully; instead, he seemed to be battling in his sleep.
Unconsciously, Soldier Boy began rubbing your thigh against his firm cock after turning your body once again. He is clearly having a morning wood at the moment. His hold on your thigh grew stronger as he began to growl. You put your hands on his wrist in a panic and whispered, “You're hurting me!” in a pained voice. That hurt. 
“What the hell?” whispered Soldier Boy as his eyes slowly opened and his grip instantly relaxed. 
Before you turned to face him, you shoved his heavy hand off your ass and rolled your eyes at his drowsy voice. “You are trying to fuck me in your sleep.” To check if your thighs were already bruised, you tossed the blanket aside and slightly pulled down your leggings. You asked him since you couldn't see much. “Are there any bruises?” 
After stretching and rubbing his eyes, Soldier Boy gently pushed your hands away to check for injury. As he concentrated to see your skin with extreme caution, his thumb gently stroked it. “Just a little bit. Nothing serious.”
It was not as bad as the early days of your relationship when he fucked you a little rough. Just a little. He had figured out how to keep you unbroken since you liked him when he was being soft and tender with you. He had ruined you a little about that later on, of course. 
You snorted at his answer. “Which I'm lucky for that.” 
“You seem like a really whiny person these days, don't you, sweetie? waking me awake because of a tiny, invisible red spot.”
Soldier Boy woke up completely, but he restrained himself from slapping your ass in order to give it a nice bruise and take you. He frowned as soon as he felt his cock erect, just as he was ready to say something naughty in response to make your cheeks flush instead. A challenging stone seemed to be between his legs. “Oh, fuck.”
You let go of your sweatpants and stopped checking on yourself when you saw his pained look. With curiosity, you inquired, “What happened?”
After inhaling deeply, Soldier Boy turned to face you. You felt heated all of a sudden as his intense gaze actually poured down on your body. His eyes were piercing. “Guess I have a problem down there.”
When you noticed his shaft was pushing his sweatpants as if his cock was trying to break free, you turned to face Soldier Boy once more; your cheeks reddened, and his solemn expression was amused by your reaction. You'd be shocked if you could recall how many times he fucked you in the mornings, not even opening his eyes, and woke up as if your body were water in the middle of the desert. He should have already torn off every single piece from you and buried himself inside of you.
“Do you need...help?” You muttered, unsure of how to respond to everything. You wanted him to help you through all of this, even if you were unsure if the same thing had happened before and how you handled it. After yesterday, you owed him. You feel somewhat under pressure. You tried not to come across as overly bashful because you had already helped him in that room days ago. You kept reassuring yourself that it wasn't the first time.
Soldier Boy's wicked expression softened, and an instant smile landed on his lips as soon as you asked him to offer your assistance in the innocent tone he adored. He wasn't sure if he should continue to keep teasing you. He could have come up with more methods to make you feel bashful till your entire body reddened if his cock wasn't already throbbing. It was an appealing notion. He couldn't help but tease you as you stared at him in that manner, so he responded, “How do you think you can help me?”
You shifted gently on the bed, licking your lips nervously as you saw him put one hand under his head. His messy hair had a wonderful, exotic fragrance that you could taste. Ignoring his gorgeous appearance would be foolish. You put your palm on his hardness without taking your eyes off of him to see how he would respond. He felt prone to erupting at any moment. “Like this?”
Your little touch instantly results in Soldier Boy's body tightening up. As soon as you put your small, soft hands on him and keenly pressed your palm against his shaft, his cock hardened as if it hadn't already been turned into a rock. He shivered at the way you gazed at him with such longing and your naive attempt to make everything right. Although his body was telling him otherwise, he wanted to give you enough time. The time taken from you had been far too long. 
“You want to give me a quick handjob?” Soldier Boy inquired plainly because he was curious about your response and how bashful you were still after all the times he had filled you with his cock.
You said, “I do,” expressing your desire to repay him for the help he provided yesterday. He had promised not to fuck you until you gave your body a shot of Temp-V, but you weren't sure whether he was earnest. Knowing that he wouldn't accidentally hurt you in that way would also make you feel better. You both needed it.
“Get on with it.”
In some ways, you felt more uneasy when Soldier Boy stated those things than when you had given him your first handjob a few days previously. When he was on top of you and had complete control over your body, it seemed simpler. Soldier Boy could see you were resistant. He let out a disappointed sigh. He wasn't going to force you. There is no fucking way.
“It's fine; I will handle it myself.” Before he could push your hand away, Soldier Boy sighed. 
You instantly said, “I want to!” and pressed your hand harder against his cock. In order to give him the same pleasure that he had given you, you wanted him to realize how desperate you were right now. “I just need you on top.” 
Straightaway, Soldier Boy's lips curved in enjoyment. Without even questioning your demand, he placed his rough hands on your belly and climbed on top of you, not losing a second. His cock began to pulsate with anticipation. “Do you like it when I'm in control? You love it when I take you as I like it, don't you? Showing you who's in charge here.”
As you saw him becoming so thrilled, you felt the same rejoice in your bones. No stranger seemed to be hovering on top of you. When he was acting in that manner, he felt familiar. The small details of your connection were simply too difficult for your frail mind to figure out. It was more enticing to start something fresh with him and put the past behind you, even if you really needed to know every detail about yourself and him.
“Yes,” you said excitedly as you saw him effortlessly remove his underwear and leggings, releasing his hardness without a second thought. As your legs began to shake a bit, Soldier Boy continued to stare at you. Obviously, it wasn't out of terror. 
When you looked down and saw his large shaft dripping from the top of its head as if it were about to explode, you shrieked. However, you didn't want to finish him quickly. Remembering when you gave him a fast handjob in that room, your pussy constricted around nothingness. 
You said, “I like it when you are on top of me,” as he placed his hands on each side of your head and waited for you to continue the process.
It was challenging for Soldier Boy to control himself, get you to turn around, make you stay on your hands and knees, and then thrust his cock inside in one swift motion. But he was going to have to wait a bit longer. For the time being, all he needed to do was ease up his cock a bit in order to release the tension he was suppressing. He hadn't fucked you in a very long time. His dick stayed erect following the time he found you, considering that he obviously hadn't fucked anybody throughout his desperate search for you. He was going to explode for real unless he fucked you hard as soon as possible. It was unlikely to disregard his increasing body temperature.
It was driving him mad to think of how tight you must be now after all that time without having sex. He wanted to paint your small walls with his cum. 
He grunted instantly as you placed your fingers around his firm shaft after biting your lips. Your pussy instinctively reacted to the sounds he made, as if it recognized that animalistic voice. 
You raised your head, satisfied with his reaction, and saw him staring at you as if he were about to fuck you at any moment. Under his narrowed stare, you gulped. He said, “Good girl,” becoming harder as you touched him. He was obviously delighted that you wanted to satisfy him at this moment. “Will you make me come?”
You muttered, “I want to,” as his admiration made your heart accelerate. A small, sly smile replaced the serious expression on his face, and you felt a rush of excitement that seemed like the greatest pleasure in the world.
“Then squeeze it harder.”
Following his instructions, you moistened your lips and tightened your grip on his cock, applying pressure as he desired. You studied his reaction carefully as you squeezed him since you had no idea how hard he wanted you to do it.
“Come on.” He grunted and glanced at your hand, asking, “Why are you always so soft?” Then he spoke in a lighthearted manner. “Try your hardest. Show your strength to me.”
You obliged his instructions, knowing there was no way to harm him, and gave him a powerful hold with all of your strength, causing him to press his lips together but not being able to stop his deep grunt. His body tensed up on you as he told you how good you were, and then he suddenly clamped one of his hands around your throat, causing you to gasp in alarm. At first, you were frightened that he would apply pressure, but instead, his fingers simply waited around your neck. It seemed as though he wanted to show off his strength and level of control. 
“Now, show me what you can do.” 
It was impossible to resist widening your legs a bit more to offer him more space while your heart beat frantically. Even while you liked seeing his facial reaction, this time you wanted to focus more on his cock. His pulsating cock, which was so incredibly long and thick that it made you bite your lip, caught your eyes. You were unaware of whether that truly fit inside of you. Your hands were unable to wrap it, and part of it lay on your stomach, giving the impression that it was huge. It was in fact hefty.
You could feel Soldier Boy staring at you, but you continued to focus on his cock while your hand made slow, steady strokes. Your hands were too little for his size; therefore, you were unable to properly wrap him. Feeling the thick precum on your hands, you place your thumb on the purple head, unable to resist the need to savor this moment for a while. 
He said, “Fuck, just like that, baby,” as his grip tightened around your neck, but he didn't cause you any harm. Only a little pressure was present. His thumb was gently rubbing your skin. “I knew that you missed my cock. Right now, it really wants to be inside of you. I bet you could take all of me.”
You looked into his dark green eyes and teased him, “How much?” He growled in return as you continued to caress him with hard, steady strokes after wetting your palms with his precum. 
As though it were just another moment with you, the way you got playful made him smile more, and his heart burst with love. It seemed as though you had known him for a long time, and it was simply another ordinary moment. His soul was being torn apart by his intense desire for everything to return to normal. He needed you to come back. 
“So fucking much,” he said, his tone betraying a hint of desperation. 
He began to move as well, finding the ideal rhythm as you continued to play with the purple head of his cock with your thumb. “Don't you enjoy it when I come on your hand? I won't be coming anytime soon though,” he grumbled, continuing to up his pace. He held himself back to prolong that blazing moment so he could appreciate it more, even though he was really aching there. 
You took that as a challenge and gave him a firm grip, which caused his hand to tighten around your neck and caused you to moan. Soldier Boy captured your lips and lowered his rough hand beneath your t-shirt just as you were starting to whimper a bit louder. He then gave one of your tits a really firm squeeze, making you bite his upper lip.
You melted into his tender kiss as soon as his tongue invaded your lips, then you placed your other hand behind his neck to gently play with his hair and feel his warm flesh there. He eventually withdrew to allow you a chance to regain your breath. Longing and need were bursting on your lips. 
He was still holding himself back no matter how hard or how much you stroked his cock. But you grumbled, “Come on,” because you were only a human and he was a supe with boundless energy in his body. “This cannot continue forever. I'm getting tired.”
“You wanted to make me come, didn't you?” He immediately replied that he was not pleased with how quickly you were exhausted. At least a little bit longer for you to caress him would be good. It was a long-needed moment for his entire body. As his face approached yours, he said, “Be a good girl and beat that meat good.”
He continued toying with your tit, stressing every single word. He wasn't even touching your pussy, which was frustrating because it needed a bit of attention.
In an attempt to find out what he liked and didn't like, your hand moved lower, and you palmed his enormous, hefty balls. As if struggling to restrain himself, Soldier Boy's fun smile instantly changed, pushing his hands to your throat a bit tighter while his other hand stopped rubbing your breast and placed it on the sheets beside your head. 
“Fuck that!” he growled, pressing your neck farther into the cushion. As your palm explored his balls, your legs began to shake from both fear of pain and the knowledge that you were giving him the same pleasure. He was a little hairy there, but you weren't despised. 
Soldier Boy's jaw tightened as you squeezed his balls with as much force as you could, and his hand around your neck eventually relaxed, but he still held you firmly by the chin. He wasn't kissing you, yet his mouth was extremely close. “You want me to come on you? Are you grasping my fucking balls to explode them up on your pussy? Do they feel good in your hands, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you moaned. You didn't seem to care that your cheeks were burning. With your other hand on his cock, you began pumping him quickly and forcefully from the head while maintaining a tight grip on his balls. Just a few seconds before, he was suppressing himself, but he began to groan uncontrollably, signaling that he was very close. 
When he buried his face in your neck and started sucking and giving you gentle bites, you questioned naively, “Where do you want to come?” knowing he was extremely near. “Do you want me to put my mouth there?” you asked, unable to contain your little smile. 
He pulled up your t-shirt and then proceeded to swear, telling you in which positions and how hard he would be fucking you very soon before he started to come on your stomach. The moment you felt his warm, thick cum on your abdomen, you let out a whimper. He started to empty himself with strong, solid strokes after pushing your hands away from his cock. Even though he was much larger than your hands, he looked outstanding pumping in his own hands.
With almost painful grumbles, he emptied himself on your stomach, and you put your hands on his stiff shoulders while he beat his cock fiercely to make sure there was nothing left in his balls. Even though he shut his eyes and stretched his head back, he continued to cover you with his hot cum while grunting heavily. You were also breathing heavily as you saw him gasp in a deep voice. You could see every vein on his arched neck.
You both glanced at your tummy when he was done; his ropes had completely loaded your body. You came eye to eye with him. Soldier Boy grinned upon seeing your startled gaze; he now appeared pleased. He pulled back his softening dick and put it back in his sweatpants. You relaxed beneath Soldier Boy as he leaned in to give you a gentle kiss on the lips. When you reached up through his neck and drew him close, “You still remember how to make me crazy, don't you?” he murmured, and he gave you a joyful grin. You felt better too when you finally felt his muscles relax under your touch. “You did amazing; you felt so, so good.” 
While you were still shivering with adrenaline, you whimpered in his lips and tried to ease up. After praising you repeatedly, which felt awesome, Soldier Boy kissed your forehead. “I miss you so much.”
Your hands froze behind his neck as he continued to speak as though you were still gone and that he was still looking for you. You inhaled deeply, discouraged that he wasn't prepared to move on from the past and initiate a new relationship with you. However, because you negotiated with him, he would not force Cate to toy with your mind. You had plenty of time to change his mind about you. 
You solely said, “I know,” trying to understand his feelings while allowing yours to fade away. 
When his lips finally left your skin, you were able to see each other in the eye. As you looked intently into his emerald eyes to see whether he was genuinely sincere, his statements that he wouldn't be able to love you again if you couldn't remember him were still lingering in your mind. However, it was rather difficult to read him. Right now, those intimate moments were probably the only way to make him start to like you. You began to feel more at ease every second, even though you had no memory of your connection. It was comfortable to be in his arms. However, a lot needed to change. 
You gently put your palm into his chest and inquired, “You feel good now?” From the inside out, he felt like his whole being was on fire. 
He quickly replied, “Fuck yes,” his hands caressing you all over. His strength should have frightened you, but you weren't. Not at this moment. “I really missed the warmth of your touches. For us both, it has been a very long time.”
You smiled at the longing in his voice for you. You could melt right here because of the genuine way he explained himself. You could sense his deep affection for you regardless of who you were now, even if he didn't express it vocally. Knowing that he was the strongest supe and that you were simply another human made you feel a little uneasy and insecure. Despite all the pressure he had been under since yesterday, Soldier Boy seemed pretty happy here, even if you didn't believe you could be enough to satisfy him at all. That was a relief.
He glanced at the mess he had made and pulled up a bit. His sperm was still all over your belly. You looked aside to find something for wiping his cum from your skin since you felt sticky and exposed all of a sudden. Without letting you move, Soldier Boy swiftly removed his t-shirt and began cleaning you himself. “Is it a supe thing?” You sigh, “Coming that much?” 
You gave him a brief hand job a few days before, and you tried to recall if he had come that many days earlier, but you hadn't even given his shaft an attentive look. In any case, he finished on your underwear. 
“No,” he said, tossing the t-shirt after he was certain you were clean. He was also taken aback by himself too. “I guess that's what happens when I don't fuck you for months.”
When a notion rapidly passed across your thoughts, you bit your lip. “What did you do after you were set free? I mean... with another person?” Though you weren't sure if you wanted to know the response at all, you made an effort to express yourself. He didn't convey the perception that he didn't care about having sex. 
When you asked him, he grimaced. “No, of course not.” He gave you a strange look as though you had posed a ridiculous question. “While looking for you, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. I'm not a weak fucking cheater.”
His explanation of how his other requirements didn't matter while he was searching everywhere for you warmed your heart. With all of his thoughts on you, how could he have told you that he wouldn't be able to love you? In addition to lying to you, he was also lying to himself, which was even worse.
You just answered, “I'm glad to hear that,” and smiled sweetly at him.
Reluctantly, Soldier Boy cleared his throat and stood up. “You can take a shower,” he said. “Or we can.”
You playfully said, “Are you telling me I smell bad now?” before getting out of bed after stretching. You let out a yawn as though you hadn't slept for at least ten straight hours. 
He glanced at your tummy and smiled, making your cheeks flush again. “Believe me, you smell even better now.”  
His phone began to ring before you could continue, causing him to roll his eyes in frustration. When he began to undress, he let it ring, but the caller remained unyielding. He growled furiously, “Fucking piece of shit,” and grabbed it from the table next to him. He looked on the screen as if he was looking at the name he planned to kill soon.
“You take a shower first. It seems they won't stop bothering us.”
As he pressed his thumb on the screen as if to shatter it, you nodded. You slammed the bathroom door in his face, who was still staring in your way. His overwhelming fragrance and the lingering dizziness required a lengthy bath to get rid of. 
After taking a shower, you wrapped the little towel over your body and grabbed your phone and saw that Kimiko had sent you a message. You were a little upset when you saw her name on the screen because you remembered the days before when she had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you alone with Soldier Boy and making you terrified in the midst of all those politicians and supes. She also knew you for a long time if what Soldier Boy told you was true, which was extremely most likely. Perhaps she left you to spend time with him alone, but it made no difference. She should have told you.
You couldn't help but feel a bit awful about thinking such negative things about Kimiko, though, because Butcher must have stopped her if she planned to. You still haven't listened to her. All of this must have had a valid reason from her side. Kimiko indicated that she and Butcher would be at the home soon in the message, which stated that you needed to get there in an hour. He must be assuming Soldier Boy would follow after you. 
If that was true, you hoped he was truly terrified. 
When you heard Soldier Boy exclaim, “She's going there with Butcher?” and felt his head over your shoulder, you jumped. “Such a scared, vile pussy, isn't he?”
“Oh God! You scared me.” Your hand reached your heart. It took you a while to realize that you were simply staring at Kimiko's message. 
Remembering that there was only a small towel wrapped around your body, you were concerned it was about to fall, so you grabbed onto it out of shyness. There wasn't much time to go to the location where you were expected, and Soldier Boy's powerful hands were around your abdomen just as you were about to put on your clothes. You couldn't tell if he wanted you to stay still or hug you from behind. As if it had recognized the hold somewhere, your heart responded instantly to his touch. You sighed at the strange, bittersweet sensation. 
Murmuring, “I have to get dressed,” you placed your hands on his. You didn't push him away. Your heart ached in a really lovely manner that you couldn't explain because of the pressure on your stomach, his hands, and his gentle touch. Feeling so comfortable in the presence of someone whom you didn't remember was insane. 
You weren't sure whether you would trust Butcher if he told you that you had nothing to do with Soldier Boy. Strangers or lovers, manipulated or not, it made no difference. The fact that he touched you and caused your blood to boil was sufficient evidence for you. Hearts were able to remember things. 
“Come on, I'll get you there. Don't you think we still have some free time?” he whispered. You could tell he had already put on his suit without even looking at him. When he realized he wouldn't be taking that shower, it appeared he had things to do in Vought Tower.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you felt his bulge behind you, and his lustful tone made you smile for a moment. You pondered your reactions to him in the past when he was acting in such a way.
“I don't think so,” you said while your hands tried to push away his gloved hands helpless. Of course, he didn't move a bit. The way you wanted to get rid of his hold made him press himself to you harder. You were about to giggle.
He was unsatisfied with your answer. “Don't you want me to repay your sweet service?”
Your thinking and desire came into conflict as soon as Soldier Boy's hands began to linger about your legs and gradually sneaked higher within the towel; you were torn between pushing him away or letting him touch you the way he chose. However, even though you had just had a shower, your pussy was already drenched and prepared to risk it all. 
Once his fingers lingered around your inner thigh and gave it a squeeze, causing you to bite your lip, you said faintly, “I think...” You were left at Soldier Boy's mercy since the words had already faded away. 
“Don’t think,” he said, fearing your response. Soldier Boy's cock was already throbbing, as though it were about to rip off his suit and boxers and find a way inside your dripping pussy.
He could already smell how wet you are. In his opinion, he should have touched you before you got out of bed, making sure you were ruined around his fingers. His cock had been awakened by seeing you in a tiny towel. It had been a long time since he had seen you like that; in his room, with nothing but a towel around your body. He felt strange and uneasy as he thought about those times, but he regretfully pushed those painfully happy memories aside. He had you in his arms again. He would fix you quickly. He just had to wait a little longer.
His fingers moved higher into your thighs, reaching places that caused you to inhale deeply, causing your knees to shake and your head to arch back into his shoulder. You instantly arched your back and raised on your tiptoes as his middle finger delicately brushed your clit, as if he wanted you to fall apart. You weren't sure if you desired to let go of his breathtaking pressure on your pussy or if you wanted him to use his hands more. It was just too much.
His cock pressing on your ass was scaring you, even though your body was tense with anticipation. After you injected some Temp-V into your body, you agreed to have sex, but you weren't sure whether Soldier Boy cared about Temp-V at all now, because he was all set to push you onto the mattress. Soldier Boy's fingers paused on your clit as he sensed your uncertainty and waited for your response. 
“I thought you wanted to take me while I was on Temp-V,” you said. You were aware that, regardless of anything else, he was considering fucking you right here. It was clear from the way his other hand ceased on the pants of his suit. 
“Call it an amendment.” His intentions were evident when he said quickly and coarsely in your ear, “I’ll be very careful.” He turned your body to face the bed as soon as you heard him unzipping, and your cheeks became red. You tightened your grip on your towel and withdrew your hand from his.
At the moment, he was deadly serious.
“It’s better if we don’t do it right now.”
“Why the fuck not? I'll be very careful and...gentle,” he added, feeling upset by your hasty rejection. Before you could say anything, you found your head on the mattress, and he was ready to take you from behind. He showed his desire to change to your notion by grinding his hardness against your ass. The towel was too short, and your body shook with excitement and coldness right away. His suit was getting wet from your exposed skin, and your flesh was still a little damp.
“I’ll feel better if we do it after I get Temp-V. Please.” You pushed his hand away from your clit.
Between grumpy growls, Soldier Boy regretfully zipped his pants back. “Fine!” His tone seemed frustrated and disappointed, and you rolled your eyes. You thought he was amusing at times. However, you weren't sure if he would find that thought funny.
You smiled to yourself, your heart thumping with happiness, feeling safe in the fact that he didn't insist on fucking you while you were adjusting your towel. You were relieved that your relationship wasn't abusive or toxic. If not, you would be horrified and devastated. 
You gripped your towel tightly and turned to face him after he drew himself away and lifted your body off the bed. His eyes were narrowed as he examined your damp hair. His enormous bulge, which refused to go away, made it easy to guess what he was thinking.
Soldier Boy was unable to stop cursing at Butcher for being a coward after you both hastily changed, left his house, and got into his car. You had often warned him when he said Butcher was just a pussy who would meet you at that house with a superwoman to protect himself with the most sexist remarks, but he was much more enraged when he believed you were only protecting him.
He angrily remarked, “I want to kill that bitch so badly,” referring to Butcher. “Bringing a supe woman to meet an unarmed woman in order to feel safe and protected? He had a pussy between his legs, I already knew. Without a doubt, Princess Hughie has bottomed him raw, laid him good. I'm telling you.”
“God!” you exclaimed, ignoring the unpleasant pictures that appeared in your mind while Soldier Boy continued to speak. “He just wants to make sure that you won't be around. It's actually better that he's taking Kimiko with him. I want to ask her something.”
“What is it?” Soldier Boy looked suspiciously at you. He didn't like the fact that you wanted to ask her questions but not him. He believed that you had already begun to trust him again. “You can ask me too.” 
“She was with me when we came across in that room a few days ago. However, she abruptly left me there without saying a word when you unexpectedly showed up. I need to know why. We must have known one another for a while, you know.”
He chuckled, “She must be scared, of course,” but he wasn't amused. “After I was set free once more, they all knew they were dead. Kimiko is also aware of it.”
Your face sank in disappointment at his unwavering determination to hurt Butcher and the rest of the team. That wasn't the way you wanted to choose. You needed to make him listen to you even though you knew he wouldn't simply let his anger and hatred go and would give you his whole attention.
Even though you tried talking about other topics while he was driving, Butcher was the center of all of his frustration and contempt, so you eventually stopped talking and let him curse until he calmed down a bit. You wondered whether your rejection of his prior attempt to fuck you from behind against his bed was the reason he was so stiff and upset. It didn't appear like he was a man who handled rejection well. 
You glanced at his car's seats and abruptly questioned, “Are you not paid well?”
Soldier Boy's stance shifted, and he replied proudly and gruffly, “Of course I am. Why do you say that?”
You grinned as an overwhelming rush of joy washed over you upon seeing how proud he was of his antique car. “Don't you think your car is a bit out of date? You should try one of those AMTs.”
Clearly dissatisfied that you didn't like his car as much as he did, he rolled his eyes at you. “Those cars are made for pussies. The ones who use them are not real men, I assure you. It's also not outdated. We refer to it as ‘classic’. Do you have an idea how much did it cost?”
It was impossible not to smirk as he went on to justify his scrap. “How much?”
You burst out laughing when he told you the cost. His confidence made you laugh so hard that you began to tear up, and the way he told you to shut up made you crack. “I think you got the shaft.”
“Cars and women... I’ll spank your ass for that.” You continued to chuckle even though he spoke in a misogynistic manner while he gave you strange stares.
After some time, you grasped his arm and said, “Alright, pull over here!” before he got closer to the house. Now, your heart was pounding because you were afraid Soldier Boy would follow you and carry out his threat to tear apart Butcher and Kimiko's bodies to pieces. 
To your amazement, he stopped the car without approaching. Now that he was unsure of Butcher's true intentions, Soldier Boy's heart was full of distrust. No matter what he said, he didn't want you to believe it. He believed that you had already begun getting better, but you remembered Butcher, not him. 
After a while, the realization hit him hard in the gut, leaving him feeling uneasy and a little insecure. Just as his palm formed a fist around the steering wheel, he grimaced and pushed that pathetic emotion away. 
He loved that car. Such a baby. 
You were ready to walk away when you noticed Soldier Boy's bizarre expression, which caused you to pause. He didn't insist on accompanying you, but instead he sat silently, lost in contemplation. Your heart sank as you saw the expression on his face that suggested he didn't trust you. 
You whispered, “Hey,” and placed your hands on his hands that were gripping the steering wheel. The car was still unharmed, which was surprising. “I'll make sure it ends quickly.”
“You better.” 
He gave you a look when you rolled your eyes at him. “You're so tense, you know?”
“Can't imagine why.”
You placed your hands on his face and gave him a gentle kiss before he could continue, letting him know how much you needed him to behave and make things easy for you at that moment. You needed him to stop being angry for the time being so you could get your answers without him making a scene. Just when you felt his hand on your face, you withdrew before he could return your kisses. 
“When you're done, get your ass back to the Vought Tower. Tell them that if they try to take you back, I fucking swear—”
“All right! I'll tell them,” you responded hastily, interrupting him before he could finish, and hurriedly exited the car, slamming the door firmly in his face. You hoped that by mistreating his car in that way, he would be sufficiently distracted to channel his anger toward something else. 
It felt weird and uncomfortable once you were back inside the house. You never imagined that seeing Butcher and Kimiko would make you feel so anxious, as though you were going to encounter ruthless superhumans. But they were your pals. You hoped they still saw you in that way despite how much you were disappointed in them. There was an explanation for everything. 
Kimiko swiftly came up to you and gave you a firm hug, which is her way of saying ‘sorry’ just as you were ready to call their names. You gave her a short hug in return, forgetting that she had left you days earlier. “Hey,” you whispered, stepping back. Your gaze scanned for Butcher, who also showed up there with a bottle of whiskey. 
He smirked at you from a distance, acting like a complete jerk, which infuriated you. You questioned whether he understood the suffering you were enduring as a result of his actions. You were nauseated by his insensitive facial expression. 
 “You lying snake.”
After drinking his whiskey, setting the glass down, and approaching you, the sneer on his face suddenly vanished. “That would be me, I guess. Nice to see you again, babe.” he remarked. “How have you been doing with Soldier Boy?” he asked while giving you a dubious look.
You said, “You've got to be kidding me,” and shook your head in shock. “Butcher, how could you not tell me that I'm suffering from memory loss that day? When Soldier Boy revealed that him and I had been together, you can imagine how blown away I was. Him and I!” 
Butcher grinned when he realized that you were still uninformed of Soldier Boy's true name and was relieved that he was unable to bring back your memories. He was quite certain that he wanted to heal your brain, even though Soldier Boy didn't give a damn about you at all. After all, when he freed Soldier Boy, you were the first woman he had seen in decades. It wouldn't be unusual if a man with PTSD developed a mild connection with you. Soldier Boy was an obsessed man.
“Is that what he had told you?” Butcher's eyebrow was lifted. “You and him, having a serious relationship?” Ben hated emotional stuff; therefore, Butcher was kind of shocked to hear Soldier Boy say that in fact.
“How could you not tell me this?”
Kimiko stood between you and Butcher, looking around anxiously as though she had a lot to say too, but she was afraid of your reaction.
“You have no memory of him at all. How could you have believed all he said? Are you a lunatic?” Butcher felt that all of his terrible deeds were in vain because you already believed everything that Soldier Boy said, even though you didn't remember him. He was now furious at your naïve attitude. It was going to be a problem.
“I'm telling you, Butcher, don't ever fucking lie to me again.” You answered angrily, “You know pretty well that if I had been a stranger to him, he would have killed me in that room days ago without even blinking.” You got made sensing Butcher was about to spit new lies in your face rather than expressing regret and wanting an apology. It made your blood boil to see him like that, a complete liar. You wished you had taken that Temp-V before you left the home so you could beat his liar ass till you relaxed and at least got him to say ‘sorry’.
“How did he take it?” As if to divert your attention and ease your ire, Butcher asked in an icy tone. He went under your skin the moment he talked, even if you hadn't intended to become angry. “Your memory loss.” 
You muttered, “He didn't take it well, obviously,” recalling how many times you had already argued. You're still troubled by the time he said he wouldn't love you if you forgot about him. However, you refused to let him, Kimiko, and Butcher know these sorts of things.
“He dedicated himself to murdering you.” You said, “All of you,” and you caught a glimpse of Kimiko, who was listening to you and Butcher raise your voices nervously. “It's quite tiring arguing with him all the time about this.”
“Well, that isn't all that unexpected. But, doll, are you sure you want to stick with a man like that?” When Butcher posed that question, your anger was replaced by skepticism.
“What are your plans now? Help them track us down while cleaning up his and Homelander's outfits like it's a 24-hour job?”
You said in a quiet, disappointed voice, “How could you even say that?” He narrowed his gaze at you as you drew nearer. As much as you liked your friendship with Butcher, you hoped he still knew you shared the same desire to destroy Homelander and all everything about Vought.
“Based on your defense of a man—a profoundly racist, misogynistic, PTSD-afflicted man—you don't even remember says enough. You have to see how it looks from our perspective. You, Vought, and Soldier Boy.”
You defended yourself as you stood in front of him, now begging with your eyes, “I'm not one of them!” You recalled what Soldier Boy had said about how he had changed, but you didn't tell Butcher about that sweet moment. “I don't want him to harm you or the rest of the team. I would never want that.”
Butcher was going to say something, but he changed his mind. You were constantly being observed by his suspicious gaze. “Tell me you don't intend to stay with him. This cannot be what you're thinking. I can still help you.”
You were stiffened by the way Butcher stared at you as if you were some sort of insane person. Every word he spoke and every look he gave you questioned both Soldier Boy and yourself. It is clear that he was unaware of Soldier Boy's awesome treatment of you. You didn't want him to know that you were lost, confused, and vulnerable—your mind was an easy target. You needed to pretend that he wasn't bothering you. “From now on, I am staying with him. I have to find answers about myself and him. It's not about the team or about you, Vought. It's about me.”
Butcher let out a frustrated sigh but made no attempt to persuade you to go with him. That would put the team in far greater danger. There was no need to provoke Soldier Boy by taking you with him.  All he could do was pray that neither you nor Ben would ever know what he had done to your body that day. Butcher peered at Kimiko. He had a feeling she was thinking the same thing.
“Did he try bringing your memories back?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, folding your arms over your chest as if to indicate that you didn't want to discuss that at the moment. “We...made a deal.”
“What deal?” Now Butcher's heart was racing. He refused to admit that he was a little anxious about your fragile condition, but the anxiety was there. He would do it again even though he should have thought about the consequences months before when he removed the small living cell from your womb while you were unconscious.
Soldier Boy was getting impatient, so you didn't want to tell him anything about how you truly didn't want to bring back anything. “Nothing important, but he will not force me to remember things for three months at least.”
“Okay.” He questioned whether he could track down and kill every superhero with mind and memory abilities. He could never be sure if you knew you were pregnant that day.
You gasped when Butcher pulled out the gun you had left here the day before. Knowing what was within made your body quiver. Frenchie created the virus with the intention of killing superheroes. If you hadn't come upon Soldier Boy that day, you thought The Deep or Black Noir would be dead by now already. You never had the opportunity to put it to use.
Butcher whispered, “I think you forgot this,” as he took your hands in his and handed you the firearm.
You said, “I don't think I want it back.” You felt nauseous at the idea of using it on Soldier Boy. You tried to back off, knowing Butcher was also intent on killing him with Homelander.
“Hey, I am not going to tell you to shoot his hairy asshole when you get back to him, okay? Still, you will one day have to use that on Ninja Cunt or The Deep. See what I mean?” While speaking softly, Butcher attempted to make you aware of the complexity of the problem. His skull no longer hurt because he had become what he detested most—a fully Supe.
“Are you insane? Homelander would certainly kill me. I can't possibly use that. I'm dead if it succeeds, but if not...” You blurted out, “I don't even want to think what Noir and The Deep could do to me,” as disturbing pictures flashed through your head. The risk was huge, and you weren't sure how Soldier Boy would react if he witnessed you shooting the supes with the virus Butcher had given you. It wasn't that you didn't want them dead, but there was a big risk.
The thought of how he would stare at you made your legs tremble.
“I think you have your beloved Soldier Boy?” Butcher grinned when he saw what you were truly terrified of.  “Not even Homelander can touch you now.  If he cares about you that much as you think, he wouldn't hurt you even if you kill all the supes in the tower with that virus.” Butcher became delighted upon noticing your confusion and anxiety. Whatever transpired between you and Soldier Boy didn't seem to be good, and Butcher could use that to his advantage.
As you gazed at the small gun Butcher was holding, you bit your lip uneasily before turning to face him. “He wouldn't like it if he saw I'm still doing such things for you, Butcher.”
“Come on. We are currently in a time of crisis. If you really think he cares about you, he wouldn't be mad if some other Supe dies, right? He's not even fond of Noir.”
Butcher groaned when he saw that you were still unsure and uncertain and refused to accept the firearm. “Ben wouldn't be upset with you for that kind of stuff. I know I fucking lied, that I should have told you about him after your memory loss, and that I destroyed our trust. But I wouldn't harm you, Y/N. My intentions were good.”
When Butcher revealed Soldier Boy's real name, you whispered, your heart pounding wildly. “I know.”
Ben.
Your heart pounded with anticipation and delight as you imagined his reaction when you addressed him by name. That could help him realize that you were still the same person and that past events didn't affect who you were. When you heard his name, it sounded like a magical word given how it would affect him.
“Now that Ben is working together with Homelander, it's a serious problem. You must understand that we have to end this. Placing aside your personal problems and convincing Ben to kill him—or at the very least, help you in killing Noir and the Deep—would be incredibly beneficial. I can't do this by myself.” Butcher shot a look at Kimiko, who was just listening, and he added, “It's just not about me. Kimiko, Frenchie, Annie, MM, and Hughie would all die as a result of Ben and Homelander's teamwork. You don't seem to be wanting his.” As you stared at him in sorrow, Butcher took your hands and made you grasp it.
“Of course not!” you blurted out. Even if you couldn't recall many of them, the thought of one of them dying made you terrified. Your entire body shuddered with horror, realizing precisely how important they must have all been to you months ago. “I just don't know what to do.”
When Butcher saw that you had not pushed his hands away and that you now had the gun, he exhaled in relief. “Just talk with Ben if you genuinely believe he loves and cares about you. Make sure he hears you and realizes that Homelander and the others have to die. We would greatly appreciate it if you could use that virus and then provide us with feedback, darling.”
“I don't want to hurt him!” you hurriedly exclaimed, fearing Butcher might ask you to test the virus on Ben. Even if he was the most powerful supe, you would never risk his life. 
Butcher groaned and said, “Fuck me,” irritated that you continued to be concerned about him despite the fact that you couldn't recall a single detail about him. “I'm not saying you have to give him a virus shot from the ass while you peg him. As long as it is one of the Seven members, it makes no difference who you shot.”
“You would hurt him too if it works,” you said suspiciously, since you were afraid about helping him in committing such an act.
“I would like it, to be honest.  But since you two are determined not to break up anytime soon, I guess I have to pass him in this as long as you make sure he doesn't chase my ass, of course,” and he squeezed your arm to help you relax a little. “So what do you say?”
After giving it some thought, you grudgingly muttered, “Okay.” In any case, you wouldn't want Ben to harm him or the squad. Homelander was a serious issue that needed to be resolved right away. For the sake of everyone, you must make every effort to persuade Ben. “Butcher, you will never betray me or him again, and I will never do anything that could hurt him. Give me your word. No.” With harshness, you said, “Swear on your wife.”
Butcher's stance altered, and he was now staring at you deeply as though he was trying not to get emotional over the painful memories of his wife. Your words had torn into his soul. “I swear.”
You took a sigh of relief and smiled apologetically at him for reminding him of his wife. “Deal then,” you said. He would always be reminded of all the things he was never able to have again. Although it made you feel awful, he was wrong to betray the faith of those who trusted him.
“Good,” he said, clearing his throat while checking his watch and glancing at Kimiko. “All right, we have to leave immediately then. We don't want Soldier Boy to come along and assume I have his woman and screw us.”
When Butcher talked about him and how he referred to you as Ben's woman, you laughed at his uneasiness. “Well, let's hope he didn't place any bugs on me or wait outside already.”
“I'd rather not to come across his lovely, amiable face for some time, hun.” When Kimiko realized it was time to go and say goodbye once more, she abruptly leaned in and gave you a back rub. You couldn't help but feel depressed. You followed him and Kimiko to the door so you wouldn't feel stuck in the house you had spent months in or feel like you were just turned away by your pack in the wildlife.
“You have no idea.”
“Call me after Soldier Boy behaves like a less jerk. And be cautious while doing so.”
-
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A/N: I hope this chapter is satisfying. Let me know what you think please 😓
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vigilskeep · 2 months ago
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Can we hear about the soap opera style second de riva?
oh sure
she’s the human mage daughter of the previous talon de riva and she’s also illario’s arranged married wife
viago killed her dad in order to replace him. she’s not angry abt this, actively. (she doubts anyone who had met her father could be angry about it.) but there IS underlying tension, how could there not be? viago could have killed her too, and instead has in some ways become like a brother to her. but in another world where he hadn’t gotten there first, house de riva might have been hers
illario did not want to marry her, she was picked out for him by caterina, to strengthen their house ties. to illario, it reads like an insult: she’s not a match meant for a future first talon, she was passed over and disinherited in her own house. she’s also a mage, which despite all caterina’s claims of it being a new era under the new divine and house dellamorte moving with the times, he suspects would be used against their branch of the family inheriting anything. he didn’t even want to get married in the first place, because he’s a chronic flirt here for a good time. and nobody is dragging lucanis back from tevinter to make him get married like he’s a pawn you can afford to sacrifice
his dissatisfaction means he continues to be a chronic flirt, with other people, after they’re married. she’s professionally humiliated, which is as good as personally humiliated for a crow; charm and beauty were skillsets of hers, she can’t even win over her own husband when it’s required to maintain the alliance in treviso, and everyone knows it? viago’s furious because it’s an insult to house de riva’s honour, too. (he’s being a protective big brother. which would be nice, if he could express it or indeed if he had acted on some of those instincts before agreeing to her being married off. read the contents of these brackets in teia’s voice.) all this is why she is still referred to as a de riva, because she kind of went back home to soothe tensions but without actually getting a divorce
she was obviously normal and rational about all of this, as she always is, a good, composed, collected crow, who has never lost her cool in training or on contracts or with her own father’s murdered body before her very eyes. she would like to clarify that the above events had no effect on her eventually lashing out at a certain antaam patrol and setting several things both metaphorically and very literally on fire. unrelated.
lucanis, on his return, immediately knows exactly what illario was like about it and is intensely mortified on behalf of his family, because he is a man with Romantic Standards. she thinks this is endearing and restrains herself from playing on his heartstrings about it too often. the deeply obvious thing to do here is have them fall in love for drama, that would be the maximum soap opera move, and to be clear i DO think it’s funny for illario to suddenly decide he does actually want his wife as soon as lucanis wants her, but honestly i just want lucanis to have one decent family relationship and this is how i can make that happen by force of will. and now not only is illario’s own wife siding with lucanis in the power struggle, but lucanis is replacing illario with her! we actually don’t need romance to make this deranged
thus i’m still debating the most amusing option on the veilguard team to sweep illario’s wife off her feet. i would love to see where almost any of them are going with this. emmrich, for example. and davrin with lucanis’ sister-in-law is obviously amazing (though i actually don’t think he’d go for a wealthy married human woman, i think he’s got more sense and/or self respect 😭). ultimately neve absolutely has a noir detective’s prerogative to win over a femme fatale with a rich husband who doesn’t treat her right so she would get dibs
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