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lowkeyerror · 2 days ago

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Key to Your Flat

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Notes: Fluff, a bit of angst, pining, lots of acts of service, friends to lovers, au no powers

Summary: Wanda ends her long term relationship with Jarvis after realizing she was a lesbian. You've been her best friend since college, it's only right for you to support her in any way you can.

An: So this was supposed to be a cute little 1-2k fic loosely based on the Doja Cat snippet that says "Does a key to your flat mean girlfriend?" But it has turned into something else lol.

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

From the first day that you met her, you knew that Wanda would be one of the most successful people that you had ever encountered. There was no one more determined to make something of themselves than her. It was more than hard work; it was the way she sacrificed for the things that she wanted to accomplish in life.

You admired her.

How could you not, especially with the lack of direction you had in your own life? When you became her roommate in your sophomore year in college, you were already on your 3rd major. From engineering, to English, to culinary arts; you were all over the place. Yet you didn’t care much about it figuring things would work out somehow.

You believed that the universe would grant you whatever fate you deserved. Until Wanda told you that was such a ridiculous notion. Who would wait for a handout from the universe when they could simply get what they wanted themselves?

She was a good influence on you. You started taking school and your future a little more seriously after that. You put a lot more stock into your culinary dreams, and they paid off. There was a beaming fulfillment in your chest when you opened your own restaurant. Something that probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t met Wanda.

While you can’t necessarily recall what Wanda does off of the top of your head. You know she’s got some long fancy title at some big industry company. She had taken an internship in college and because of how completely undeniable the woman was, she shot up in the ranks of the company within a 10-year period.

You were both busy people, but you never loss touch as you climb your respective ladders of success. It was second nature for you to keep in contact with Wanda. It’s not something you thought about as much as something that you did.

Other aspects of your life often slipped through your fingers. You weren’t proud to say you’d forgotten a birthday or two or missed family plans because of work. Even your dating life suffered immensely because of your hectic lifestyle.

You never understood just how Wanda could manage to create enough balance in her life to find someone like Jarvis. He was a good man, clean cut. A little more uptight than you’d thought Wanda would go for, but a charmer, nonetheless.

You remember being skeptical when you first met him. You were the first person that he’d met from Wanda’s life. It was an accident when you ran into him on the way out of Wanda’s flat. He was about to knock when you were exiting. The red head was a little embarrassed to explain as you stared at the tall blonde man. You looked between the two before you shook his hand and sent him a decent enough smile.

She had chased after you when you left, trying to explain herself, but there was nothing to explain. You congratulated her, said you were happy she found someone. She thought you’d be upset with her, but you weren’t. How could you be upset when she was happy?

You had assumed that they had a perfect relationship. That’s how it seemed when you saw them interact with each other. His hand on her waist, her eyes shining into his. They’d seem to complement each other like the ocean compliments the beach.

Which is why you were confused when Wanda called you in the middle of your shift at work. She hardly ever called, finding texting much more reliable. However, you picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Hey, I know you’re probably working right now but is there any way you can pick me up.”

It sounded like she had been crying.

You were taking your apron off as you spoke into the phone, “Always, just send me your location and I’ll be on my way.”

You hear the relieved sigh she lets out, “Thank you.”

You informed your staff of your departure and headed to your car. Wanda sent her location, and you put it into your GPS, before driving off. She was closer than you had expected so getting to her was nothing.

She was at a park in the middle of the city. The day was cloudy, and the sun was preparing to set. It was a very grey day to be outdoors.

Once you were out of your car you scanned around for your friend. You found her almost instantly. She was sitting on a bench, her head in her hands.

You’d seen her stressed before, but this felt bigger than that. Her voice on the phone made that very evident to you.

You approached her cautiously and when you got close enough you called her name, “Wanda.”

Her head shot up when she heard you. She was off the bench and in your arms before you had time to react. Her arms were tightly wound around you. It caught you off guard and all you could do was stare down at her for a moment.

Soon you were holding her back just as tight. Your hand cradled the back of her hair, finger tenderly rubbing her scalp.

“What happened?” Your voice is soft when you ask, not trying to provoke her any more than she already is.

It takes her a minute to pull away enough to answer you, but eventually she does, “Jarvis, he proposed.”

Your eyes widen, “These don’t look like happy tears.”

“I was trying to break up with him,” she lets out a deep sigh. “I called him to talk in person, and then I tell him that I think we should break up. He gets on one knee and starts talking, and I- I just…”

“Oh Wands,” you pull her back into your embrace.

You readjust so that you have one arm over her shoulder. She doesn’t protest as you lead her to your car. She climbs in the passenger seat no questions asked as you pull off.

When you arrived at your destination she finally speaks up, “What’re we doing here?”

“Getting takeout,” you answered quickly getting out of the car. “You sit tight.”

You’re in and out of the Chinese food spot with a hefty bad of boxes in tow. When you re-enter the car with the food Wanda sends you a small smile.

“Did you-”

“Of course, I got our favorite and I asked for extra sweet and sour too. I was going to drive to yours, maybe we could eat and indulge in some sitcoms or talk, whatever you want. How does that sound?”

Your eyes raked over her features. She gave you a few small nods, “Sounds better than having an existential breakdown at the park.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled then,” you chuckled a little.

You drove to her house, glancing over at her every few minutes. Her head rested on the window and her eyes were closed, but you knee she wasn’t sleeping. Wanda often closed her eyes when she was trying to ground herself. It was something you had picked on back in college. You never knew where she went in her head, but it always seemed to help her refocus.

When you got to her flat. You handled the food and handled the tv, shooing Wanda away to put on some more comfortable clothes. When she came back in her sweatpants and robe the two of you ate as you watched I Dream of Jeannie.

It took about 2 episodes before she said anything to you.

“You’re not going to ask why I wanted to break up with him?”

You leaned back into the couch, “I’m curious, but it didn’t really seem like something I should be asking right now.”

She searched your eyes for something. If you had to guess, you say for security. She needed to know that start she said next was ok to tell you. In truth there was nothing she could say that would deter you from being there for her.

“I think I like women,” she said as she looked into her lap. There were more tears brewing behind her eyes, “Only women.”

There was no hesitation as you moved closer to her. Your thigh rested against hers, prompting her to meet your gaze.

“That’s not a bad thing Wanda.”

She shakes her head, “It is especially when you have a long-term boyfriend who loves you with everything that he has. You keep wondering when you’re going to love him the way he loves you. When will you stop hating the way he touches you? When will you be able to look at him, the way he looks at you. By the time you realize it can’t be him, it will never be a him… it’s too late. He shows you a ring while you’re trying to break up with him.”

You grab her hand, “You need to be kinder to yourself. This isn’t something you chose to do Wanda. It’s not like you knew the whole time. It sounds like you’re just coming to terms with your sexuality. You did the right thing by breaking up with him.”

“But-"

“Let me finish. If I’m being honest, getting on one knee and proposing to someone after they tried to break up with you sounds like a manipulation tactic.”

She ran her free hand through her hair, “Did you think we were a good couple? Jarvis and I.”

You thought about the question briefly, “I think it looked like you were the perfect couple, but sometimes I didn’t understand it. You’re both so different, not that it was a bad thing. I just… I’ve seen you soar to unimaginable heights. I’ve seen your ambitions become your reality. I just didn’t see that in him. You’re always striving to be the best, to improve. I always thought you’d want someone to do the same with you or someone who was okay with you doing that. It just seemed like all of that went over his head.”

“He was a very traditional man. He always talked about settling down in the future, with firm roots, and kids. He talked about me retiring and letting him take care of me. It was just- not what I wanted.”

“And that’s ok, people break up all the time Wanda. It’s a normal part of life. Yes, it sucks, but it's just a breakup. Think of it as one step closer to finding your person.”

She nods slightly, “When did you get so good at this?”

You smile at her, “I’m not good at this. I’m just good with you. That's what nearly a decade of friendship does to someone.”

She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she rested her head on your shoulder and turned her attention back to the tv. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling her firmly into you.

Wanda would get through this, just like she got through everything else. You’d make sure of it, because she'd do the same for you.

In the coming months, you found yourself carving out more time for Wanda. The busy nature of your schedule died down significantly when you started to entrust the general manager of your restaurant with some more responsibility. It made your workload lighter while allowing your GM to get some more experience.

You used the new free time to support her the best way you could. Sometimes that meant bringing her lunch when she was working. Other times it was coming over after to make sure the woman wasn’t neglecting her home. You’d go over and check if she had groceries or that she wasn’t letting the flat get too dirty. She was the kind of woman that threw herself into work when she was trying to avoid something.

You’d even gone as far as helping her set up a dating profile when she was ready to put herself back out there.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

You were once again in her flat. She stood in the kitchen, while you sat on a chair stationed at the island in the middle of the same room.

“Date women,” she was asking sincerely, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t really date, but it’s the same as any date. You’re trying to present your best self, get a good foot forward, but while maintaining an authenticity. It’s not like a job interview where only one person is doing the hiring; you both have a say in how it turns out.”

Wanda narrows her eyes, “Why don’t you date?”

You shrug, “Too busy running a very successful restaurant.”

“You’re not as busy as you used to be. Maybe you should set up a profile for yourself. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to have you.”

You shook your head, “Hard pass, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Come on, Y/nn. I know accomplishments can feel empty when you don’t have anyone to share them with,” she tried to persuade you.

“Well good thing I can share it with you then,” you countered.

She let out an irritated sigh, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You smirk, “Why do you want me to sign up so badly anyway? You think we’re going to match?”

You were only joking, yet you can’t help but notice the slight color on your friend’s cheeks.

She scoffed like you expected her to, “Grow up.”

For a moment it feels like you’re back in your college dorm. The playful and flirty banter was always present between the two of you. It was easy for you to flirt with her, knowing you never really had a chance. However, now that there was even the slightest of possibility that this could escalate, it felt completely different.

“It’s alright Wanda, nothing to be ashamed of. I’m hot, successful, hardworking, and financially responsible. Hard to ignore the total package.”

She rolled her eyes, “I remember when Ms. ‘Total Package’ couldn’t even finish her college assignments without my help.”

You chuckle when you catch her eyes, “You’ve got me there. If it wasn’t for you, I have no idea where’d I be.”

“Probably still in college on your 95th major change,” she laughed at her own joke.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “Very funny.”

With a smile plastered on her face she strolled over to sit next to you. She spun on the barstool before grabbing your arms and looking into your eyes, “I have something for you actually.”

“What is it?”

She reached into her pocket and sat a key down on the island. You looked at her then the key with slight confusion.

“A key?”

Wanda nods, “You’re basically here all the time and I’m getting tired of opening the door for you.”

“I’m using this key to come over and cook in this beautiful kitchen, you hardly use.”

“Hey, I cook,” she defended.

You laugh, “I said hardly, didn’t I?”

When you got home that night, you felt a new weight on your shoulders. Your hand slipped into your pocket to pull out the key. You held it flat in your palm. The small piece of metal was cool against your skin. You stared at it for a long while.

It was just a key. There wasn't anything crazy about it. Your friend gave you a key to her house. Friends do that with each other. Your heart shouldn’t have been fluttering the way it was over such a simple gesture.

You closed your hand around the key trying to ground yourself. Your eyes shut, but as soon as they did her smile etched its way into your sight.

“Shit.”

It was like college all over again. You thought you had gotten over your crush on Wanda many years ago. She was straight, it was never going to happen. That was something you could deal with, something you could work through. However now, that wasn’t the case anymore. Wanda liked women, technically you had a chance.

You shouldn't be thinking like that. She needs you now, to be her friend. You were doing so well. Taking care of her had become an unconscious pattern as easy as breathing. You never thought about it too hard when she needed you. It’s like the moment she put the key in your hand, your mind finally started thinking.

Subconsciously you’d always known it. It’s why you didn't date. It was unfair to be with someone who’d never be able to prioritize over Wanda. She was one of the few people in your life that you’d drop everything for.

Sure, you were a busy woman, but you’d never be too busy for her. Her distress over Jarvis literally made you change the way you worked, just to make sure you were there when she needed you.

“Why would I make her a dating profile?” You asked yourself as you face-planted on to your mattress.

Just as you expected Wanda’s profile was gaining some traction. There were a lot of women interested in someone like her. Soon she was going on more dates than you had been on in years. Most of them weren’t serious, she often said she wouldn’t be seeing them again.

While you were sad that she wasn’t finding anyone suitable you were also happy for the same reason. You thought you’d attempt to cheer up her up after so many bad dates by cooking one of her favorite dishes from home.

You made a day of finding the freshest ingredients. You drove out to find markets that had authentic food from her home country. There wasn’t a lot locally, but you didn’t mind the hunt.

Once you had everything you needed you made your way over to Wanda’s. It was a struggle carrying everything up, but you managed with a little bit of a struggle.

While you were still conflicted about having a key to her flat, you still used it plenty of times. So just like you had done previously you let yourself into Wanda’s home.

“Oh, fuck sorry,” you said as you immediately saw Wanda straddling the lap of an older (an admittedly super attractive) woman on her living room couch.

Wanda looked like a deer in headlights. You were trying to comprehend if you were more mortified or heartbroken. No one spoke for a long while until the older woman cleared her throat.

“Right, uh I’ll just come back tomorrow or something. Enjoy your night, Wanda.”

With the groceries still in your hand, you turned around and closed the door. You only made it down a few steps before you heard someone calling after you.

“Y/n, wait!”

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath trying to mask your feelings before you turned around.

“This stuff is a little heavy Wanda; I want to get it back to the car before the bags break.”

She took a few bags from your hands, “Let me help you.”

“You don’t have to; you looked pretty busy in there. Here I was, bringing stuff to cook for you in light of all your failed dates, but it seems like you’re not doing nearly as bad as I thought,” you tried to joke with her.

“Agatha is definitely the best of the dates I've had so far.”

You had to keep yourself from wincing, “Glad to hear it.”

Wanda helped you load the stuff back into the car.

“I’m really sorry about this. If I would’ve known you were coming-"

You shook your head, “It’s fine Wanda, go back to making out with a hot older woman. They don't like to wait for too long. I’ll just text you next time instead of just barging in.”

“I have you a key because you’re always welcome.”

You unhook the key from your key ring and hand it back to her, “I know that, but maybe it’s best if you let me in.”

“Y/n,” she looked at you with confusion.

You smile through the pain, “If you’re going to have women over, it’s not a good look for another woman to be coming in and out of your house whenever. We’re not related and we’re not roommates. There’s not really a reason for me to have access to you like that.”

“I don’t understand,” she looked between you and the key that was now in her hand.

“Usually, a key to your flat would mean I’m your girlfriend. Me coming over to cook for you as another woman who likes women is bad for your stock. It just doesn't feel like something that's easily explained. I would have a bunch of questions if I was in Agatha’s position, especially since you haven't gone back yet,” you hop into your car.

There was a conflicted look on her face, “You’ll stop by tomorrow?”

“I’ve got work, but I'll try to stop by after,” you told her that even though you knew you wouldn't be coming back tomorrow.

“I’ll see later then?” She was searching for something as she surveyed your features.

With what little control you had left, you tried to give her what she was looking for, “Definitely. Now forget about this and go back to your date.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but with a small glance back at her flat, she walked away. You drove home.

The groceries felt eternally heavier when you were bringing them into your house. You wondered how carrying them upstairs to Wanda’s was even possible.

You hurriedly put the food away, showered, and then got in the bed. When your head hits the pillow, you let out a deep sigh. Your jaw started to tremble on its own.

You let out a bitter laugh as the tears fell down your face. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. It felt like a part of you was ripped out of your chest.

This was bound to happen eventually. Wanda would move on from Jarvis and your silly fantasy would be crushed. You felt silly crying over a woman that was never yours.

Yet another part of you was screaming at you for feeling silly. You were doing a lot for Wanda. Even if it was all just friendly, sometimes it felt like more. All the dinners, all the cuddling on the couch, all the late-night talks. She was your better half, but she wasn’t your girl. She’d never be your girl.

It was something you had to accept. You didn’t go to work the next day. You rotted in your bed, not having the energy to get up. Scrolling on your phone was the only thing you wanted to do.

Wanda had texted you a few times, but you ignored the messages. Even the thought of her just made your entire chest burn.

You finally got out of bed when you had to pee. You took the opportunity to brush your teeth as well. On the way back to the bed your doorbell started to ring. Not just once either. Whoever was at the door pressed the button over and over again. It was impossible to ignore.

So, with your bed head, red eyes, and mismatched pajamas you yanked the front door open, “Look, I don’t know what you want but could you just go away and try again tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow’s not going to work for me.”

Your head shot up and you felt face heat. Wanda was standing at your front door with her arms crossed over her chest with an eyebrow raised.

“What’re you doing here?”

Your voice had a softness to it that you reserved for the red head in front of you.

She didn’t answer your question. Instead, she let herself into your home. You closed the door behind her. You followed her to your living room. She sat on your couch while you took a seat on a chair diagonal to it.

“I thought you had work today,” she says.

“I decided not to go.”

“I’ve been texting you.”

You shrugged, “Haven’t been on it sorry.”

Wanda stared at you, “I went to your restaurant looking for you.”

You were looking into your lap, “I’m sorry Wanda.”

She got up from the couch to come completely into your line of sight. She kneeled down in front of you, her hands resting on your knees.

“What’s going on with Y/nn?”

The concern in her voice broke you out of your trance. You tried your hardest to feign that you were alright.

“I’m fine. Since you’re here why don't you let me cook something for us?”

You stood from the chair quickly pushing down the rest of your emotions. She watched as you walked over to the kitchen pulling out some of the ingredients you had bought the day before.

“This is for paprikash,” Wanda watched as you began to prepare.

You nod, “Yeah, I got stuff for chicken paprikash, alivenci, and cholent too. The plan was to cook the paprikash and then the alivenci for dessert. I was going to set up the cholent for you before I left so you could have it fresh the next day because it’s got to cook for like 17 hours.”

“You got all of this for me?”

You answered her while chopping up the vegetables, “It was nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re using Hungarian bell peppers, where did you even get those?”

You smiled a bit, “I do own a restaurant, Wanda. If there’s anything I’m an expert in, it’s food. I wanted it to be authentic as possible.”

As you began cooking you felt the weight of the situation lift off of your shoulders. Cooking had always been a stress reliever for you, and it wasn’t any different now. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, but you never looked away from the meal.

Only when the chicken was simmering in the pot did she attempt to grab your attention.

“After you came by yesterday, I asked Agatha to leave,” Wanda broke the silence.

You finally look at her, “Why would you do something like that?”

She simply placed a key on the counter, “I couldn't stop thinking about you giving me this key back.”

“Wanda,” you tried to stop her, but she cut you off.

“No, I need you to listen. When you put this key in my hand, it felt like you had handed me a live grenade. I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until I went back inside, and Agatha asked me how we knew each other that it clicked. You’re my everything.”

“What are you saying?”

She hesitated, “I’m saying I’ve already found my person.”

“Wanda, you’re my best friend.”

She invaded your personal space, grabbing you gently by the wrist, “And you’re mine, but it’s more than that isn’t it? You’re the person I can rely on for anything at any time. You’re the woman that left her restaurant to put me back together when my ex left. You listened to me, you held me, you cooked for me, made sure I had groceries, and that my house was clean. Friends don't do as much as you've done for me.”

You slowly lifted your gaze to meet her’s, “I just know you appreciate acts of service.”

“Y/n if you don’t want this I’ll leave and we can pretend it never happened; but if you do want this, want me, I’m right here laying it all out for you.”

You drop your gaze again, “I cried myself to sleep last night. I thought I'd lost my chance. When I saw you on top of Agatha, something broke inside of me Wanda. Back in college I had a crush on, but I thought you were straight, so it was easy to keep it down. When you came out to me, it was like I was at square one all over again.”

Wanda shook her head, “It’s not square one because here I am telling you that I’m in love with you. Please give us a chance Y/n.”

You wished the moment was more glamorous as you kissed the woman in front of you. You hadn’t denied her yet and you never planned to. Her hands locked behind your neck while yours rested on her waist.

Your breath was shaky when the kiss ended. Neither of you moved.

“I love you too,” you pecked her lips again.

Wanda blushed, but you were more focused on the way she looked at you. Her eyes were full of nothing but tenderness.

“Would you take the key back?”

You raised your eyebrow, “Why does it feel like you’re asking me for something else?”

She feigned innocence, “I’m not. Unless you think that what you said yesterday about keys is true.”

“Remind me what I said again?”

Her fingers played with the hairs at the base of your neck, “A key to my flat means girlfriend.”

You pretended to think about it, “Girlfriend?”

She nodded, “Girlfriend.”

“I guess I’ll have to get you a key too then,” you said softly.

This time Wanda leaned in for a kiss. It was supposed to be a peck, but you both got lost in that moment. Neither willingly to part with the other just yet. Lips fitting together to create a soft lullaby of security.

You never thought you’d be lucky enough to have Wanda in this way. She was your best friend, your person, and now your girlfriend. It may have taken years, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda cherished you just as much. She felt like an idiot for not realizing her feelings sooner, but she was just happy to call you, her girl.

And one day, she would be ecstatic to call you, her wife.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #agatha harkness

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writtendaydreamm · 1 day ago

Text

Three Nights Ago

Summary: Langdon has had enough of the silent treatment and confronts Y/n about it

Author’s Note: Based on this submission. I don’t think I’ve really written much angst, but I tried my best lol. Working on a part two, hopefully a resolution between them, but we’ll see! Let me know your thoughts!

Y/n hadn’t spoken to Langdon since that night.

At first, he thought maybe she just needed some space, some time to think. Then she came in to work this morning without so much as a glance in his direction, and he knew it was more than that.

She was purposefully avoiding him.

He could only assume it was because of what he said.

Part of him regretted saying it. After all, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? And what he and Y/n had wasn’t broke at all. Quite the opposite. The no-labels, friends-with-benefits, situationship they had going on worked for them. He couldn’t complain. Things were good the way they were.

And still, the thought that things could be better than just good constantly lingered in the back of his mind. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want more. He’d wanted more for a while. Out of fear he’d fuck things up, he never voiced those thoughts out loud, keeping them strcitly to himself.

At least up until that night, that is.

Utterly content, limbs tangled with hers under the sheets, drunk off the feeling of finishing inside of her slick warmth, the thought slipped past his lips before he had a chance to stop himself.

“We should give this another shot.”

It’s not like they were far off from being a couple as it was. He still had a copy of a key to her place, she still had one to his. A half-used bottle of that expensive shampoo she used sat in his bathroom cabinet. A few bottles of his favorite beer were stocked in the back of her fridge.

They’d been doing this dance on-and-off for years now. Never able to call it quits but never able to commit to making it work either. The first time they tried, they had jumped in too passionately, too hastily, too early on in their careers. Like a meteor, they burnt out and crashed at a devastating speed. Then she had met someone else. And then so had he. Needless to say, neither of those exploits lasted very long — none of them ever did. Anyone they tried to see or sleep with was only ever a fleeting moment of sobriety from their all-consuming addiction to one another.

Things were different now though. They were older. More mature. Nearly done with residency. It could work this time. He really believed that.

Of course, she didn’t give him a clear answer that night. Not that he expected one right then. It was a loaded suggestion. He knew that.

He did expect them to talk about it at some point though. It wasn’t his intention to open that door, but it was open now and he needed to know if she was going to walk through it with him or close it in his face.

Three days have passed. Not only had they not discussed that particular topic again, but they hadn’t discussed anything at all since then.

Leaving his texts on read. Not returning his calls. She’d even gone as far as trading shifts with one of the mid-shift residents the last two days all to avoid being around him.

It was worse than outright rejection and he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. Tempted to show up to her apartment last night and confront her, he talked himself out of it. It wouldn’t have done anything more than push her further away from him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Two hours into their shift now and she’s still somehow managed to keep her distance from him. Standing as far as possible from him during rounds. Spending more time in the waiting room doing triage with interns than she’s done in the last couple of years. The closest they’d come to an actual interaction was brushing shoulders as she zoomed past him helping push a gurney into Trauma bay 2.

He figured he’d have to wait till their shift ended to confront her, but luck was on his side today. They both stopped at the nurses station at the same time. They couldn’t have been further apart, standing at opposite ends, but it was better than nothing. He stared at her shamelessly hoping she’d look up and acknowledge him in some way, give him something other than this undeserved cold shoulder. Y/n remained unphased however, typing away on the keyboard in front of her as if he wasn't actively burning a hole through her head with the heat of his stare.

Never one to shy away from telling him like it was, this was unlike her. If she didn’t want things to change that’s all she had to say. While it was true he wanted more, he’d rather things stay as they were than lose her. As inconsistent as their relationship was, she had remained one of the only consistencies in his life. He needed her. She was his crutch. Even just a few days without seeing her, hearing her, feeling her, left him totally crippled.

Watching her walk away from the nurses station, he took his chance. It was unfair to corner her while they were both supposed to be working but he couldn't let this go on any longer.

—

Feeling someone come up behind her, Y/n didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who it was. Maybe it was his cologne, or the familiar sound of his footsteps, or just his presence that she was so attune to. Whatever it was, she knew it was Langdon.

With a heavy sigh, she allowed him to drag her by the arm into an empty examination room. She could have fought his hold if she really tried. Run off and delay the inevitable for another day. Maybe even two if Collins was willing to switch days off with her. But it wouldn’t do much. She couldn’t avoid him forever. They worked in the same hospital, in the same department, on the same shift. It was surprising to have dodged him at all these past few days.

She had every intention to have a conversation with him about that night…eventually. Once she finally knew what she was going to say to him.

However, in the three days she bought herself to think it over, the only things she had put together was the fact that the right words would never come to her, and that even if they did it wouldn’t make a difference. This conversation was going to be hard and painful no matter how she worded it.

If it were up to her alone, she wasn’t sure when she’d gather the nerve to finally speak to him. In a way, Y/n was relieved he was forcing her to rip the band aid off and tell him what’s been on her chest these last three days. This was a conversation they needed to have sooner rather than later and she had put it off for too long as it was.

With the door locked shut, and the curtain pulled close, there was no escaping for either of them now. No turning back.

Standing on either end they were only just a few feet away from each other, but it felt like they were an ocean apart. This was the first time they’d been in the same room since that night. The familiar comfort and intimacy they shared in his dimly lit apartment then was quite the contrast to the awkward tension between them now under the unsettling fluorescent lights.

Silence filled the small, sterile gray examination room, drowning them. They sized each other up, waiting to see who would break and gasp for air first.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Langdon said finally. It wasn’t clear from his tone whether he was asking or telling her this. It was clear however that this had been weighing on him heavily these past few days. She could hear the strain in his voice, see the burden behind his eyes.

It killed her to see him hurt this way and all because of her. For a second she debated sparing his feelings. She could say she traded shifts because of a last minute appointment, or a family emergency that came up. Say she was just too busy and never got to reply to his messages. But he knew her too well and would know she was lying.

Besides, she wouldn’t want him to lie to her. If she wanted his honesty, then she would need to be honest as well.

“You’re right. I have been avoiding you,” she said, owning up to her odd behavior.

He didn’t know what the right thing to say next was, but he did know he was willing to say and do whatever he needed to make things right between them again.

“I know it’s about the other night. And before you say anything, just forget I brought it up. Okay? Things between us are good the way they are, we don’t need change what we’re doing or try-”

The sound of her laugh cut him off. It was a dry, humorless laugh but a laugh nonetheless. Langdon narrowed his eyes at her in confusion and disbelief. Here she was laughing in his face while he was being vulnerable and open about his feelings.

“Glad you find this funny, Y/n.”

“It’s not funny, it’s just — I mean you really thought that’s why I haven’t been speaking to you? Because you said we should get back together? No, Frank,” she shook her head. Her expression stiffened like stone, bracing herself before she continued, “I found your pills.”

She watched his reaction carefully, checking for his ticks and tells. But his poker face was impressive. If he was feeling any sort of pressure it wasn’t showing. He feigned ignorance so well she would’ve bought it had she not seen with her own two eyes the plastic bag of pills stuffed lazily between a pile of shirts in his drawer.

“What are you talking about? What pills?” he asked, brows furrowed convincingly.

“Your bag of benzos. Or the hospital’s benzos I should say. Right? Cause that’s where you stole them from?”

That pulled the rug straight from under him. His face fell instantly and his heart followed falling what felt like a hundred feet down to the pit of his stomach. There was nowhere else to turn, no other way out of this than to deflect and deny.

“Woah — stole? Benzos? Really, Y/n. Are you actually accusing me of what I think you are?”

“Of diverting drugs? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m accusing you of.”

“Don’t be ridiculous-”

“Frank, spare me. Please. I ran an audit,” she said before he could continue to dismiss what she already knew to be true.

Langdon’s demeanor changed completely at the mention of the audit. His composure faltered, the innocent, ignorant act dropped. He stood before her now guarded and defensive.

With a heavy-heart, Y/n released the last sliver of hope she held onto that this was all just some big misunderstanding. It was obvious now, written all across his face, that this was exactly what it seemed, what she feared.

When she found those pills she wanted so badly to find a logical explanation. There had to be. She thought and thought of every possible reason he would have those pills. As hard as she thought, only one thing came to mind — drug diversion.

Walking into work the morning after, it hung over her head like a dark cloud and the pills she hid in her bag weighed like a ton of bricks. If what she suspected turned out to be true, she risked the safety of their patients and the future of her own career if she didn’t do her due diligence. The guilt of running a medication dispensing report behind Langdon’s back was severely outweighed by the need to ease her own conscience. Upon examining the report, she hoped to find her worries dispelled. But rather than the dark cloud lifting up and away, it poured down on her instead in a heavy rain that washed away any possibility of Langdon’s innocence.

The discrepancies were undeniable. He prescribed and “wasted” more painkillers than any other doctor in their department. That, paired with the pills she found all but confirmed it.

Arms crossed, Langdon doubled down, refusing to admit to it. “That audit doesn’t prove anything.”

“I think Robby would beg to differ.”

All the color drained from his face at the mention of their attending. “Please tell me you haven’t told him about this bullshit?”

“No, not yet.”

Though she should’ve. When she found that bag of pills in his drawer that night, the right thing to do would’ve been to take them straight to Robby the very next day. Instead, against the feeling of her gut turning in on itself, screaming at her that something was wrong, she gave Langdon the benefit of the doubt. The pills were yet to see the light of day again, still tucked in the bottom of her purse since that night. Rather than blindside him, she felt it was only fair she spoke with him first, to give him a chance to explain himself before taking any serious action.

Thank God, he thought. As long as this stays between them and doesn't leave the room, things will be fine. He’ll be fine.

“I’m telling you, whatever you think is going on, is not what it looks like. Okay? It’s me, you know me, you know who I am,” he pleaded, lowering himself to her eye level.

“I’m not so sure I do,” she admitted woefully, searching his eyes looking for the Langdon she knew, the Langdon she loved. But the man before her wasn’t him.

Her Langdon was not a thief and definitely not an addict. Sure, he was a bit of an adrenaline junkie always seeking a rush. Jumping out of planes, bungee jumping, hang gliding — risk taking behavior wasn’t out of character. But she could never have imagined he was capable of this level of self destruction. That he would risk throwing away everything he’s worked so hard for.

The words hit him like a slap to the face. “How can you say that?”

“Because I know, Langdon. The pills I took from your apartment? I haven’t had them traced back to who distributed them yet because I really don’t want to see your name there. But I know it will be,” she cried out.

Among all the words she said, took from your apartment, repeated in his head. It had just dawned on him now — she’s had the pills this whole time. He had been looking everywhere for them. Retracing his steps, turning his apartment inside out, searching through every nook and cranny of his car, clearing out his locker. He’d been on edge these past couple days wondering where they went. If they fell into the wrong hands he was fucked. At least now he knew where they were. The relief that brought was only momentary though as irritation quickly took its place. He ran his hands through his hair trying to keep a lid on it.

“What are you doing going through my stuff in the first place?” he practically sneered at her.

Unbelievable, she thought snorting at his audacity. The nerve he had to turn things on her and make her out to be the bad guy for finding the pills in his drawer as if him having those pills in the first place wasn’t the more pressing matter here.

“I wasn’t going through your stuff asshole,” she spat back snidely. Not like it would’ve taken much to find those stupid pills anyway. She had been looking for that worn out blue t-shirt of his she loved sleeping in and there they were, practically begging to be seen.

“Where are they?” he demanded.

“Why? Are you trying to get your fix?”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m not a drug addict, Y/n,�� he snapped, her comment really hitting a nerve.

“Is that right?” she scoffed mockingly. “So then please explain to me why the fuck you have a plastic baggie of prescription pay killers hiding in your drawer?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said, voice rising in his frustration.

“You’re right, you don’t,” she agreed, much to his surprise. “But you do have to explain yourself to Robby once I bring him what I found.”

With nothing left to say, she brushed past him making her way to the door. Before she could turn the handle, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind. Langdon held her tightly, dragging her back and away from the door. She used all her strength, fighting against his hold. But he was too strong for her.

“Get your hands off me. Let go,” Y/n cried out. “You’re being an asshole, Frank. Let go of me.”

Mindful that the walls weren’t soundproof, Langdon released her but ensured to block the door with his body. Hoping to reason with her, to explain himself, and talk her out of telling Robby, he approached her. It wasn’t intended to be aggressive, or intimidating, but he must’ve been too worked up to realize he was coming across that way.

After one step towards her, Y/n immediately backed away from him, eyeing him warningly like she was afraid of him or what he might do next.

It was like a dagger to the gut seeing the way she recoiled from him like he was some sort of threat when just days ago she was begging for his touch. He stepped back dejectedly, giving her the space to feel comfortable. With a deep breath to calm himself, he explained earnestly the pills were simply a means to an end.

“I’m just weaning myself off, okay?”

“And how long have you been weaning yourself off, Frank?” y/n challenged.

He was quiet. If he answered it would give away how far off the deep end he’d fallen. But she didn’t need to hear him say anything to figure that out for herself. His hesitancy and agitation, the way he averted her gaze, his shifty body language, was all the answer she needed. He hadn’t just fallen off the deep end, he was sinking to the bottom of it.

How had no one noticed? How had she not noticed? There had to have been signs. Then again maybe the signs were there and she was just blinded by her bias, by her feelings for him, by her trust in him.

She wouldn’t allow that bias to affect her now. Not that he was making it easy for her. His usually vibrant blue eyes were dulled by despair as he looked into hers begging her to believe and trust him now.

“You need help,” she urged softly, taking a tentative step closer to him.

It was Langdon who backed away from her now. He didn’t need any help. He was handling this his way. Like he said, he was just using whatever was left of his patients’ medications that would’ve been dumped anyway to tide him over as he worked through the withdrawals. He knew what he was doing. He knew these drugs and how they worked.

“I have this under control,” he maintained. “I’m not some tweaker off the street.”

“Are you really so far up your own ass you can’t see that you have a problem.”

“I don’t have a problem,” he insisted tensely, through gritted teeth.

Too stubborn for his own good, she cared about him too much to let him sink any further. She already failed him once missing the signs. There was no way she’d turn a blind eye now.

He’d probably hate her for what she was about to say next. But he left her no choice.

“If you don’t tell Robby by the end of the day, I will.”

Frozen in his spot, his mind raced with the implications of what she’d just said.

The ultimatum was the final nail on the coffin of their conversation. Whether he had more to say or not, she wasn’t sticking around for it. Brushing past him quickly, afraid he might try to stop her from leaving again, she managed to get on the other side of the door.

The sound of the door shutting pulled him out of his thoughts. Turning over his shoulder, he caught her eye through the door’s glass panel as she too spared one last glance back at him.

The last time their eyes locked so intensely had been that night. The night he suggested they give their relationship another shot. The night she found those pills. The night that would turn out to be the catalyst, setting off a series of events that would change his life as he knew it.

She turned away first having seen something in his eyes she’d never seen before, at least not directed toward her — contempt.

Standing in the room alone, the walls closing in on him, her last words ringing in his ears, he slammed his fists against the counter.

Fuck.

#dr langdon x reader #frank langdon x reader #langdon x reader #frank langdon #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #frank langdon fanfiction #frank langdon imagine

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kpoplustzone · 1 day ago

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Blurred Lines: Therapy and Temptation - chapter 2

This is going to be a very long series with a lot of Idols and actresses from the Korean industry. This is instantly updated for the Diamond Tier and only the first 3 chapters for the other tiers.

https://ko-fi.com/epiclude/tiers

Dr. Kang rose to greet her, a polite smile on his face, though inwardly his psychologist's mind was already observing every detail of her presence. Incredibly beautiful, he thought, taking in her delicate features, the way her dark hair framed her face, and the almost ethereal aura that surrounded her despite her attempt at a low-key appearance. That dress… simple yet so effective in highlighting her natural elegance.

“Ms. Myoui, please have a seat,” he said, his voice calm and welcoming, gesturing towards a comfortable armchair in his consultation room.

Mina offered a small, shy smile in return, her eyes briefly meeting his before glancing around the softly lit, tastefully decorated room. “Thank you, Dr. Kang.” Her voice was soft and slightly reserved, carrying a hint of the gentle vulnerability that sometimes peeked through her usually composed idol persona.

As they settled into a friendly, casual conversation, Dr. Kang focused on putting her at ease, asking her about her day and the usual introductory questions. However, beneath his professional exterior, his mind was racing, already sensing the subtle undercurrents of her anxieties and longings. Her skin has a flawless quality, even up close. And those eyes… they hold so much despite her quiet demeanor.

Mina had been wearing a long, cream-colored wool coat. As she settled into the armchair, she gracefully shrugged it off, draping it over the side of the chair. This movement subtly revealed more of her figure in the black knit dress. The fabric now more clearly outlined her slender waist and the gentle flare of her hips. Dr. Kang’s gaze, seemingly focused on her face as he continued their casual conversation about her recent activities, registered the way the dress hugged her upper body, hinting at the gentle curve of her breasts.

Effortlessly elegant, even in something so simple, he mused internally. The way the knit stretches… You can see the toned muscles beneath. Years of rigorous training, no doubt. He noted the clean lines of the dress and how it accentuated her long neck and delicate wrists. And yet, there’s an underlying sensuality to it. The way it skims her thighs… it invites the imagination. He maintained eye contact, a practiced professional smile on his face, but his mind was already exploring the possibilities, the potential that lay dormant beneath the surface of this seemingly reserved idol. She has no idea the effect she’s having, the desires that are already beginning to stir within me just from this simple conversation and the way she carries herself. He subtly adjusted his position, a barely perceptible movement, as his own body reacted to the image of Mina’s unknowingly alluring presence in his consultation room.

Dr. Kang nodded understandingly. “That makes perfect sense, Mina-ssi. Building a comfortable and trusting space is crucial in these situations. Let’s focus on getting to know each other a bit better first, then we can delve deeper into the specific pressures you’re facing. Think of me as a confidant, someone completely outside the whirlwind of your public life.” He offered her a reassuring smile.

Mina visibly relaxed, a small, genuine smile gracing her lips this time. “That sounds… nice, Dr. Kang. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like I could just talk without worrying about how every word will be interpreted.”

For the next part of their session, the conversation flowed more freely. Mina spoke about the challenges of being a K-pop idol – the rigorous training schedules, the constant travel, the pressure to always present a perfect image. She mentioned the loneliness she sometimes felt despite being surrounded by fans and her group members. Dr. Kang listened attentively, occasionally offering insightful questions and validating her feelings.

As the session continued, Dr. Kang’s voice lowered, becoming a smooth, seductive caress. “Mina-ssi, you possess an incredible sensuality, a vibrant energy just waiting to be fully awakened. Allow yourself to focus on the sensations you’re feeling right now. That warmth… isn’t it starting to feel deliciously… heavy? A pleasant throbbing deep inside?” His eyes held hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.

Mina shifted in the plush armchair, a noticeable flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. The warmth she had felt earlier was now undeniably hot, focused intensely between her legs. A slick wetness had begun to form, clinging to her panties, a sensation that both confused and undeniably thrilled her. What is happening to me? she thought, her heart pounding against her ribs. She pressed her thighs together, a futile attempt to contain the growing heat and the insistent pulsing.

Dr. Kang leaned forward slightly, his gaze dropping for a fleeting, suggestive moment to her crossed legs before returning to her eyes. “That pressure you feel… that’s your body acknowledging its desires, Mina-ssi. The need for release… for exquisite pleasure.” His voice was a low, hypnotic murmur that seemed to bypass her conscious thoughts and directly target her most primal instincts. “Don’t try to suppress it. Instead, allow yourself to explore it, to luxuriate in the feeling of your body awakening in this way.”

Mina’s breath became shallow and rapid. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath her dress, and the wetness between her thighs intensified, a growing ache spreading through her pelvis. She squeezed her legs tighter, her knuckles turning white as her hands gripped the armrests of the chair. Her gaze flickered down to her lap, then back to Dr. Kang, a mixture of confusion and undeniable lust swirling within her eyes.

Dr. Kang observed her reactions with a subtle, knowing smile. She’s so close to the surface. Just a few more carefully chosen words… “Imagine, Mina-ssi, the feeling of that tension melting away… replaced by wave after wave of pure sensation. Your body knows what it wants. All you have to do is listen to it.” His voice was a silken promise, his eyes holding hers captive, drawing her deeper into the hypnotic suggestion. The session was far from over; in fact, it felt like it was only just beginning, shifting into a realm far beyond the boundaries of traditional therapy.

Mina’s breath hitched, and she could feel a throbbing ache intensifying between her legs. The insistent pulsing Dr. Kang had mentioned felt undeniable now, a raw, primal need taking root within her. Unconsciously, her hands tightened their grip on the armrests, her knuckles white.

Beneath the soft knit of her dress, her nipples had become hard and sensitive, pressing against the fabric with a distinct sharpness. She could almost feel them tingling, aching for a touch she hadn't anticipated feeling in this setting. A slick warmth spread further down, and the wetness between her thighs was becoming increasingly noticeable. She could feel it pooling, a heavy, almost embarrassing sensation that she couldn't seem to control.

Her gaze flickered down to her lap again, a dark stain now faintly visible on the inner thighs of her dress. A wave of heat washed over her face, a mixture of shame and undeniable arousal. She pressed her thighs together even harder, a desperate attempt to conceal the growing evidence of her body’s reaction.

Dr. Kang's eyes, though seemingly still focused on her face with professional concern, registered the subtle shift in her posture, the flushed skin, and the almost imperceptible tightening of her grip. Excellent, he thought, a subtle thrill coursing through him. The control is slipping. Her body is betraying her carefully constructed composure. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Allow yourself to feel it, Mina-ssi. That incredible heat… that insistent wetness… It’s your body telling you what it truly desires.”

“Dr. Kang,” Mina said, her voice slightly trembling, her cheeks flushed, “would you… Excuse me for a moment? I just need to… freshen up.” She stood up a little too quickly, her crossed legs feeling tight and uncomfortable with the insistent wetness.

Dr. Kang offered a gentle nod, a knowing glint in his eyes that Mina thankfully didn’t seem to fully register in her state of heightened awareness. He watched as she hurried towards the small restroom tucked away in a corner of his office, her movements a little jerky, a stark contrast to her usual graceful demeanor.

Once inside the privacy of the bathroom, Mina leaned heavily against the cool tiles of the wall, her breath coming in rapid gasps. The air in the small space felt thick and heavy, mirroring the sensations pulsing through her body. She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart. What in the world is happening to me?

She couldn’t deny the intense heat radiating from her core. It was a deep, insistent throbbing that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. With a shaky hand, she reached down, her fingers finding the undeniable dampness through her dress. A soft moan escaped her lips as she realized just how wet she had become. It was more than just damp; it was a soaking wetness that spoke volumes about her body’s involuntary reaction to Dr. Kang’s words.

Driven by an irresistible urge, she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric of her dress and touched herself. The slickness was immediate and pronounced. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her at the slightest contact, making her legs tremble. Waves of sensation washed over her, each touch more electrifying than the last. She rubbed gently, feeling the swollen lips of her vulva throbbing in response, her breath catching in her throat.

With a sudden thought, she reached behind and quickly unclipped her bra, the release offering a moment of physical ease, though the insistent ache below remained. Her fingers returned to her soaked panties. They were clinging to her, the fabric heavy with her arousal. With a decisive move, she pulled them down, the wet material cold against her heated skin. She quickly folded them, the dampness seeping onto her hands, and tucked them into a small compartment in her bag, a secret testament to the unexpected turn her therapy session had taken.

Even without the direct touch, the throbbing between her legs wouldn’t subside. She pressed her thighs together tightly, a frustrated groan escaping her lips. This was unlike anything she had experienced before, especially in such a clinical setting.

Her mind flashed back to instances where male idols or even staff members had made suggestive comments in passing. Usually, she would brush them off with a polite smile or a witty retort, feeling nothing more than mild annoyance or perhaps a fleeting sense of discomfort. So why now? Why was Dr. Kang’s calm, measured tone, his seemingly innocuous suggestions, having such a profound and intensely physical effect on her? She couldn’t understand it. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside her, unleashing a torrent of lust that she had no control over. The realization was both alarming and undeniably, secretly, exciting. She knew she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. Taking a deep breath, trying to compose herself, she adjusted her dress, the feeling of being bare underneath only adding to the strange mix of nervousness and anticipation as she prepared to return to Dr. Kang’s office.

As Mina returned to the consultation room, a subtle change in her demeanor was evident. Though she tried to appear composed, there was a heightened awareness about her movements, a slight stiffness in her posture. As she settled back into the armchair, the soft material of her dress shifted, and for a fleeting, tantalizing moment, Dr. Kang caught a glimpse. The subtle parting of the fabric, combined with the way she unconsciously angled her thighs after her hurried bathroom visit, revealed a hint of the swollen, slick lips of her vulva, still glistening with moisture. His gaze flickered upwards, and he noticed the unmistakable outline of her nipples, now hard and prominent against the thin knit of her dress.

Unbelievable, he thought, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. Mina. The Mina. Dreamed about by millions of men across the globe. And here she sits, right in front of me, her pussy soaking wet because of my words. The blatant display, even if unintentional, sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin. He could feel his cock hardening beneath his trousers, a thick, insistent pressure that he subtly shifted in his seat to conceal.

He knew pushing her further in this session might be too much, too soon. The confusion and burgeoning lust in her eyes were potent, but he needed to maintain a semblance of control, to ensure she returned for future sessions. Instead, he decided to solidify the connection he had established, to make him the source of these intense new feelings.

His voice softened again, taking on that hypnotic quality. “Mina-ssi, I want you to remember this session. Remember the way you feel right now. That warmth… that heightened sensitivity… that undeniable pull of your desires.” He held her gaze, his eyes conveying a knowing intensity. “Whenever you think of our conversation today, whenever my voice comes to mind, I want you to remember these sensations. This feeling of… awakening. Let it be a pleasant reminder of your inner desires, a secret connection just between us.” He watched as her eyes glazed over slightly, her breath becoming a little heavier. The suggestion is taking root, he thought with a quiet satisfaction. She will associate me with this arousal. Every thought of mine will bring her back to this feeling of wanting. The session was coming to its natural end, but the seeds of obsession had been sown, and Dr. Kang knew, with a thrilling certainty, that his experiment with Mina was only just beginning.

As Mina walked out of Dr. Kang’s office, a lightness had settled over her that she hadn't felt in months. The overwhelming pressure and anxiety seemed to have lifted, replaced by a strange sense of excitement and anticipation. She felt genuinely happy, a buoyant positivity bubbling up within her.

Her manager, a perpetually stressed woman named Sarah, was waiting for her just outside the clinic. Sarah immediately noticed Mina's brighter demeanor. “Mina! You look… good. How did it go?”

Mina beamed, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “It was… amazing, Sarah unnie! Dr. Kang is incredible. I feel so much better, so much lighter. He understood everything I was going through.” As she spoke, she subtly adjusted her coat, a secret thrill running through her as she remembered the fact that underneath her perfectly normal exterior, she was completely naked beneath her dress. The memory of the intense sensations Dr. Kang had evoked still lingered, a secret warmth spreading through her.

Sarah looked relieved. “That’s wonderful, Mina. We’ll book another appointment.”

“Yes!” Mina exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically perhaps, but she couldn't contain her excitement. “I think I should see him every week. I feel like this is going to help me.” The thought of seeing Dr. Kang again, of experiencing that strange and exhilarating awakening of her senses, sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. This was more than just therapy; it was something entirely new and intensely intriguing. And Mina, despite the lingering confusion, found herself eagerly looking forward to their next encounter.

#kpop smut #kpop #twice #twice smut #twice x reader #twice x y/n #twice x you #smut kpop #x reader #fluff #masterlist #smut #mina sharon myoi #myoui mina #mina myoui #mina #once

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rubiehart · 3 days ago

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PS. i am madly in love with you

or, the one where jj reassures you that every change your body went through after bringing your daughter into the world makes you even more beautiful to him…

when his truck tires roll over the gravelly road leading up to the driveway, it’s late. he’d texted you earlier and told you he’d been caught up with a sputtering engine on this guy’s truck who needed it for an urgent journey across county tomorrow morning, so it couldn’t wait.

he switches off the engine, twisting and pulling out the key and dropping them into the pocket of his work cargos. he whips off his cap to run a ringed hand through his hair, glancing at the house to see that pretty much every light was off, the only source of luminosity being the soft amber gleam of the living room lamp, signifying the possibility that you could still be awake, waiting up for him.

that thought makes the tension of the day clinging tight to the muscles of his shoulders and back loosen a little, heart warming at the image of your sweet face after a shitty day, the way your prescence seemed to instill some kind of calm and stability in him he could never explain, no matter what mood he’d come home in.

he grasps the handle of his toolbox in his hand, pushing open the driver’s side door, combat boots crunching against the gravelly stone as he made his way up the porch steps, swiping his boots on the ‘welcome’ mat infront of the door before pushing the key into the lock and pushing open the door, wary of his volume because of the high possibility that you’d already put quinn to sleep hours ago.

his eyes scan over the living room, throw blanket rumpled on the couch like you’d been laying there, a mug of what he assumed hot chocolate on the coffee table, tv turned off. he dashes his keys into the little bowl on the table in the entryway, clearing his throat as he hangs up his flannel, rubbing absently at dirt marks on his now bare forearms, eyebrows furrowed as he scans the conjoined kitchen and living room for you.

he’s immediately filled with a silent sense of relief at the faint sounds of the exhausted floorboards in the hallway to the bedrooms creaking softly, and then your figure appearing from around the corner, adorned in one of his old, threadbare muscle tanks, evidently without a bra from the eyeful of delectable side boob he’s getting, paired with a pair of plaid sleep shorts that cling to your newly thicker hips and thighs.

a subconscious grin overtakes his face at the sight of you, that cold, unrelenting grip the ache of physical labour had on his body momentarily melting away and forgotten at the sight and smell of your warm presence, like baby powder and that candle you always have burning, just about the only thing you spend money on for yourself, and something else uniquely you that wraps him in a warm blanket now that he’s home with his family.

you gravitate towards him without a word, eyes soft but there’s no trace of a smile, he assumes it’s because you’re exhausted and he’d never blame you, looking after a 6 month old all day alone must be tough, especially because quinnie was quite the milk monster.

his hands immediately find home on your hips, the warmth of your skin even through the soft cotton has him exhaling softly, eyes trained on your tired ones as you look up at him, cherub cheeks a little flushed and he realises you’d maybe been taking a nap, that’s where you’d been, also the reason why you looked so out of it.

‘you look tired, baby.’ he murmurs, drawing you forward when you start to shift your weight in a silent need to be closer, to have his chest to yours. maybe that’s what he needed too, subconsciously, just to be close to the woman he loved after a long day.

‘i missed you.’ you reply, voice barely above a whisper, cheek smushed to his chest where you’ve pushed herself as close as you can be to him, he inhales and gets another whiff of that soft figgy scent of your shampoo. he feels you press a soft kiss to his chest over the cotton of his greasy wifebeater, aware of his musk after a long day at the auto shop but you didn’t seem to care at all, you never had.

‘yeah?’ he smiles, and it’s playful, his tongue flicking out to lick at the rubied skin, hands sliding up to gently cup your head to bring it away from his chest, eyes on your own with a gentle smirk. ‘how much?’

‘too much.’ you murmur back, a lilt of a mirrored playfulness in your tone, eyes soft as you gaze up into his eyes. his hands grip your head, albeit a little aggressively but its cuteness aggression if anything, smushing a wet kiss to your temple, like a freakin’ mutt.

you murmur in protest, a soft breath of laughter evident and nuzzle your face against his shirt in attempt to remove the gross saliva he’d left as he watches, chuckling softly, chest rumbling against yours. your arms snake up and around his neck and you jump up into his expecting arms.

he catches you with little issue, his strong hands holding just under your thighs and ass as you koala yourself to his warm chest. a knowing smile graces his face as you push yourself against him, feeling the bare swell of your soft breasts through the thin cotton of the muscle tank you’re draped in, knowing exactly what you’re getting at.

he squeezes your thighs in his big hands gently, calloused thumbs rubbing soothingly over the soft skin. ‘oh, baby,’ he cooes. ‘you’re needy today, ain’t you?’

he starts to take slow steps towards the bedroom, practically a snail’s pace because his sole focus is on his angel in his hold, snuggling yourself against his chest. you rest your head on his shoulder and he watches your eyes flutter closed, soft lips murmuring, fingernails tracing soft patterns over the back of his neck where your arms are still looped around. ‘just feel safe like this.’

he hums, pressing a reverent kiss to your forehead, not sloppy and teasing like the earlier one, a gentle one that reassured you that he knew the security your body was craving in his hold, the security only he could provide you, and he was more than happy to do so. ‘i gotcha,’ before nudging open the bedroom door with the toe of his boot, mindful to not be loud for the sake of quinn, who you’d no doubt probably taken ages to manage to put down for the night.

you nuzzle your nose against the crook of his neck, not caring one bit for the tangy musk wafting from him after his long day fixing up motors in the scorching outer banks sun, you’ve grown accustomed to it and it’s almost a comfort to you by now. being close enough to smell it means you’re exactly where you want to be, right next to him.

he grins softly at your sweet search for closeness as he shoves a few stray items of clothing over on the bed, making a mental note to toss them in the hamper later, knowing how you get about things being untidy.

he deposits you gently onto your shared bed with a slight bounce against the mattress, pressing a soft kiss to your temple where you sit with one leg tucked under your butt, the other pulled up to rest your chin on your knee, tired, sunken eyes watching him whip off his dirty wifebeater.

your mind whirs with your next thought, watching him pluck a clean towel off of the pile you’d neatly folded this morning whilst quinn was napping, the only time you really get to yourself to get things done.

‘are you showerin’ now?’ you murmur, scratching at the back of your neck, him seemingly reading your mind, just as the words left your mouth, plucking a second towel off of the pile with a knowing smile.

he chuckles softly to himself at the look on your face, a little downward smile at the way he knew, eyes soft. everything seemed to make you emotional lately. ‘yeah, you comin’? offering out a towel to you with a raised eyebrow, knowing you’d been waiting for the offer.

your pretty features immediately light up with a grin, cherub cheeks blushy, like a switch had been flicked on because jj wanted to spend time with you. its a stupid thing to even consider, everyone seeing how utterly obsessed and in love jj is with you, has been since you were both 17, but pregnancy had fucked up your emotions and he wasn’t ever planning on holding that against you.

‘course i am.’ you hum playfully, hopping up from the bed and snatching the towel from his offering hand, sauntering towards the bathroom doorway with him in tow.

he chuckles in response, amused by the immediate switch in your mood he’d seen far too many times by now to still be impressed. ‘good girl,’ he praises, a smirk on his lips as he swats your ass.

you let out a soft snort of laughter, bare feet padding against the bathroom floor as you saunter inside, jj turning back into the bedroom, seemingly have forgotten to do something..

whilst he’s finishing up whatever he’s doing you undress completely, sliding down the sleep shorts and letting them pool at your feet, sliding off the threadbare muscle tank and immediately that lump slides up your throat and lodges itself there - some kind of hot burn in the base of your stomach accompanying like always.

you’re standing stark naked when jj walks back in, immediately crossing behind you to start the shower and get out your products - he’s not even consciously realising he’s doing it, going through the motions as he focuses in on you infront of the mirror above the sink.

he doesn’t miss this pre-shower stare in the mirror you seem to have, only really when you’re going solo and he can see you with that scrutinising gaze through the crack in the door. he can’t help the way his gaze drifts over you, standing in your natural state, the way your body has changed after pregnancy - the softness of your thighs, the thickness of your hips, the fullness of your milk heavy breasts. he has to swallow and plead silently with the halfie beneath his pants right now as he adjusts the temperature of the spray.

he pulls back after checking the temperature, unbuttoning and shucking down his cargos and boxers in one go, head turned slightly over his shoulder as his gaze traces your body, your back facing him as you pick apart your reflection in the mirror. he can’t help but admire how effortlessly beautiful you are like this - bare faced, not shaved for a while, completely bare and natural and so perfect.

he runs his hands under the water a final time, hoping you’ll take the hint and turn to see him ready to get in. but you don’t. ‘you comin’ in or what?’ he murmurs, soft grin on his face at the sight of your thicker body he can’t get enough of.

‘mhm, one sec.’ you hum, voice a little cracking and shaky, eyes never meeting his as you turn to the side in the mirror, running the soft pads of your fingers over the faint stretch marks that dribble down the sides of your stomach.

he notices the way you touch your soft tummy with an expression of almost disgust, and it makes his heart hurt at that looking your face he knows means tears are soon to be trickling down your pretty cheeks if he doesn’t intervene. he takes a few steps closer, broad frame pressed behind yours in the mirror, gaze meeting yours through the reflective surface, his big, rough hands sliding gently to rest on top of yours, covering the soft marks.

‘you’re beautiful,’ he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, chest rumbling against your back, breath hot and ticklish against the back of your neck. ‘you’ve given me a daughter, and these-‘ he says, his thumb gently grazing over the stretch marks. ‘-are proof of that.’

you smile softly at him through the mirror, blinking back the tears that are brimming in your gleaming eyes - you don’t really know where all this is coming from, you’ve never reacted this way to your changed body before, not so viscerally anyway, and definitely not infront of jj. you don’t hate it, really - it’s just different, you’re only looking.

he notices the way your lips tremble through the smile, how it doesn’t reach those beautiful eyes, instead they’re filled with a storm of emotions you’re struggling to keep contained. like a shaken soda ready to burst. he wraps his arms around you fully, pulling you back against his chest as he looks at you through the mirror.

‘hey,’ he whispers, his breath warm and tingly against your neck, and your belly still feels warm - but it’s not that white hot embarrassment, it’s something like flipping - and you think maybe it’s your heart. ‘you’re so beautiful, m’girl.’ he kisses the spot on your neck just underneath your ear, lips faint but steady, to let you know it was honest.

you let out soft, almost pained whimper at that, squeezing your eyes shut and taking in a deep breath, trying to control your breathing as his arms squeeze around your waist a little tighter, a comforting motion to hopefully help bring you back down.

holding you close, he nuzzles his nose into your neck, placing a trail of soft kisses along the smooth skin of your shoulders and neck. his hands move slowly and reverently, as if cherishing every new dip, curve and ripple your body had gained from bringing his baby girl into the world, whispering praises like sweet honey into your hair and against your skin. ‘so damn beautiful,’ he whispers. ‘in every way.’

‘it’s just..’ you start softly, sniffling to collect your thoughts, to grasp how you truly felt about the changes to your body. your hands graze from your sides to rest over his atop the soft pouch of your stomach, his hands turning to hold yours, stroking your knuckles patiently as he waits for you to talk. ‘i don’t hate it.. it’s just different,”

he continues to dot soft kisses along your neck, squeezing your hands gently in his larger ones before his head lifts to meet your eyes again, taller frame looming over yours through the reflection. ‘different ain’t bad.’ he reassures, voice a little gruff yet still gentle, thumbs rubbing little circles over the knuckles of your pointer fingers. ‘it’s a sign of what you’re capable of, baby.. what you’ve done for our girl..’

‘i know-‘ you whisper, nose crinkling as your voice breaks, cutting yourself off as one hot tear rolls down your flushed cheek, your back sweaty where it’s pushed against his chest. ‘s’ just,’ you try again, letting out a soft breath through your lips. ‘it’s hard.’

at the break in your voice his heart breaks a little, embrace around your waist tightening, his strong body enveloping your softer one. ‘i know it’s hard, momma,’ he mumbles, craning his neck around and pressing a soft kiss to the burning skin of your smooth cheek, tasting the salt of your tears on his rubied lips.

‘but you’re not alone in this. i’m here, and i ain’t goin’ anywhere.’ his hands holding yours up a little off your belly, shaking them gently as if to physically promise as well as verbally, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror, but his voice remains gentle despite the passion burning in his gaze.

he holds your gaze in the mirror for a few seconds, seeing you’ve sensed the finality in his words and maybe they’ve stuck - he prays they’ve stuck. seeing you like this is his least favourite thing he’s ever experienced, he’s decided. he continues to hold you tightly for as long as you need him to, content to stay here all night if thats what you needed.

his body is a protective shield around yours, chest molded to your back, the gently spray of water still echoing off of the tile floor of the shower and making for a calming lull.

after a few minutes he senses you calm down, your tight grip on his hands gradually loosened so he turns you in his arms, chest to chest, eyes never dipping from your face despite your naked body being right there. he kisses away your tears and listens when you pipe up with a slight hitch in your breathing.

"when we get outta the shower-um- i bought these new like- oil things... that you rub onto your stomach n' boobs... like postpartum, y'know?" you seem fidgety and ramble prone but he has no less patience than ever with his girl as you articulate to him what you need, without directly telling him through your slight anxiety.

he’s immediately nodding at the mention of oil’s and postpartum - willing to do anything you ask him to if it’s going to help make you feel better in your own skin, that’s the only thing he wants, to support you through this rocky journey.

‘you got ‘em? ‘ he asks softly, remembering you’d mentioned something about them one night during some pillow talk, his hands still in yours and rubbing gently circles over your soft knuckles with his calloused fingers.

‘yeah,’ you huff softly, a deep exhale of relief at his reaction - not like you were expecting anything different, like he hasn’t been the utmost helpful throughout your entire pregnancy and now the ups and downs of post partum, it was just the anxiety making you doubtful of even the person you trusted more than anyone or anything ever.

‘i’ll help you with ‘em, alright? he reassures you gently, one hand lifting from yours to swipe away a tear you hadn’t realised had even fallen, so wrapped up in how loved he made you feel every single day. ‘whatever you need me to do.’

‘okay.’ you nod, voice barely above a whisper, afraid if you spoke any louder the tears would start again, but out of gratitude this time around. you murmur an ever so quiet ‘thankyou’ as he picks you up effortlessly against his chest and carries you towards the shower.

‘you don’t gotta thank me, baby,’ he murmurs as he sets you down on your feet, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he closes the glass door behind the two of you, trapping the steam inside and fogging up the glass. he guides you carefully towards the warm stream, arms draped around your waist from behind as the water cascades over both of your bodies. ‘you know i got you.’ he whispers, lips pressed to the top of your head, pecking the wet, silky strands gently, his hands leave you for just a second to grab the shampoo bottle from the shower caddy, the soft fig one he loves smelling on you. and in this moment, things felt okay.

you did know, he’s always got you no matter what.

#꒰ pregnant!reader ꒱ྀི #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank blurb #outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank obx #obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff

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theonlyonesora · 18 hours ago

Text

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 9 - The Fault Line

You hadn’t planed on staying out that late.

But one drink turned into three, turned into tequila, turned into a stranger with a charming smile and warm hands on your hips as you danced in the corner of a packed bar with Jessy and Meg hyping you from the sidelines.

You needed this—laughter without second thoughts, attention that didn’t come tangled in unsaid things.

So when the guy leaned in and asked if you wanted to “keep hanging out,” you’d said yes. Maybe too quickly. Maybe a little too eagerly.

You giggled on the way up the stairs to your apartment, the boy trailing behind you with a lazy smirk. Your boots thudded softly against the hardwood as you fumbled for your keys, whispering “shhh” like it would make a difference at 2:17 a.m. on a Saturday.

The lights were off. The living room empty. Lily’s bedroom door was closed.

You figured you were in the clear.

Until— “Hey.” You jumped.

Oscar was sitting on the couch, half in shadow, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, phone face-down on the cushion beside him. His hair was messy, eyes sharp despite the hour.

“Oh,” you said, frozen. “I didn’t know you were up.”

The boy behind you looked between the two of you, then gave a polite nod.

“Hey, man.”

Oscar didn’t nod back. He just looked at you—long, quiet. Not angry. Just... unreadable.

“I was watching a movie,” he said after a beat. “Guess I lost track of time.”

“Right,” you replied. “Well, um... we’re just gonna go to my room.”

Oscar leaned back, his jaw ticking slightly.

“Sure.”

You didn’t wait for anything else. Just grabbed the guy’s hand and tugged him toward the hallway.

But your stomach was tight. And not because of the tequila.

Something in Oscar’s voice had struck a match in your chest.

The guy kissed you as soon as you closed the door. He was sweet, but you weren’t really present. Your head was still in the living room—still sitting on that couch with Oscar and whatever that look in his eyes had been.

Eventually, you made an excuse. Something about being tired. Something about an early morning.

The guy left without complaint, and you sat on your bed with your jacket still on, wondering why everything that was supposed to make you feel better only made it worse.

In the morning, Oscar wasn’t in the kitchen

But his coffee mug was.

And it was yours.

The one with the tiny Formula 1 helmet on it—the one he always joked he’d steal.

Only today, he hadn’t.

He’d just used it.

And left it there.

Waiting.

Lily was humming.

That should’ve been your first warning sign.

She only hummed like that when she was in a really good mood—like after a big test when she knew she’d aced it, or when Oscar was around and she’d just had one of those sun-drenched mornings tangled in love.

You were wiping down the kitchen counter, pretending to be invested in the streaks left behind by your rag, when she appeared in the doorway, hair damp and twisted into a lazy bun, hoodie slipping off one shoulder.

“I missed you last night,” she said softly, leaning against the fridge like this was a normal conversation and not the lead-up to something you weren’t sure you could handle.

You forced a laugh. “Come on, I was only out a few hours. I needed drinks and girl time.”

“I know,” she said, smile lingering as she crossed the room. “I get it. Still missed you.”

She stopped beside you, fingers brushing against your arm—light, but familiar. It made your breath stutter in your chest.

“Was the guy cute?” she asked teasingly. Your mouth twisted. “He was... fine.”

“That’s it?” she laughed, stepping closer. “Not worth a second night?”

“Definitely not.”

Lily reached for the rag in your hand and tossed it into the sink, crowding into your space.

“Good,” she murmured, voice lower now. “Because I’d rather you stay here. With me.”

You froze. You didn’t mean to—but it was a gut reaction. Not disgust. Not rejection. Just fear.

Because you didn’t know how to navigate this—how to hold the friendship without breaking it, how to say no without shattering everything that had once felt safe.

She tilted her head. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied too quickly. “Just tired.”

“You’ve been... off lately.”

You looked away. “Just school. Finals. Life.”

Lily’s hand moved to your waist, resting gently, and your whole body went rigid even as you tried to soften your face.

“I’ve missed this,” she whispered. “You. Me. Us.”

You wanted to say it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start something I couldn’t finish. I didn’t mean to confuse everything. But it caught in your throat.

Instead, you gave her a smile that felt like a white lie.

“I missed you too.”

She leaned in then—slow, tentative, and you let her kiss your cheek instead of your mouth, because it was the safest middle ground you could find without trembling.

When she pulled back, she seemed satisfied, or maybe she was pretending too. Either way, the moment passed.

But something cracked under the surface.

And you weren’t sure if you were the one pulling away— or if you were already gone.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot, @lilorose25, @landofotographyy, @paolexsstuff, @sanctify-mp3, @emma-manuhpe, @virtualperfectioncat

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pyxxiestyxx · 14 hours ago

Text

How to Find a Traitor

Hi! This was inspired by This Hypnotic Audio by VerityLey, which is insanely hot....but also, yknow, CW for this being based on a very real hypnosis file that can give you very real hypnotic triggers (and while I don't think this story would do that on its own...safety first and all that). So y'know, just keep that in mind, I suppose ;p

. . . . .

Who was it?

The Captain of the C.N.S. Byzantium was known as a cruel, harsh man. Many were the days he had spent chasing down defectors, and many were the names of those who had... disappeared, once he had inevitably sniffed them out as plantfuckers.

Couldn't be someone from Engineering...unless that's exactly what they wanted him to think.

Even though he had only served for a single year as Captain, the turnover rate aboard his ship was almost three times the amount of any other of its class. This despite the latter half of his year spent with his ship in drydock, slowly receiving repairs while the battle against the Weeds raged onward.

He winced as he remembered the close call that had completely knocked out his engines and eventually sent them limping into the nearest safe haven. How nearly half of his crew had been taken by the damnable affini...and the angry chewing out he had received from his superiors within the New Terran Militia (or whatever it was they were calling themselves these days; it seemed to change every month).

Was that their plan? Get him kicked out of leadership, make him slow and dull? An empty-headed idiot, unable to think? Not him. Never him.

The Captain scowled at his hands, at the thickened band of skin caused from years of running his fingernails over the backs of his thumbs. His thoughts sometimes felt muddled, messy. The lines drawn between the web of relationships hard to keep track of. Even if it didn't make sense to him, he was still in control.

He just needed to find this most recent traitor, and then he would finally be able to sleep right. He knew they were in his crew...somewhere. He could feel it in his gut. Outbound communications had been rising steadily, and his newest Comms Officer (the previous one had, of course, been a traitor as well) had quietly notified him of that fact.

A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. A pause, and then the door opened to reveal something that finally brought the ghost of a smile to his lips: two of his most trusted Officers, and an Ensign they were practically dragging in behind them. The lad was barely out of Naval Academy, boots still muddy from spending so much time on-planet. The recruit's eyes danced across the room, unable to settle. Pumped full of adrenaline, as sure a mark of a traitor as he had ever seen. The innocent had nothing to hide.

How could such a fresh-faced recruit have found himself in this position? How long ago had the worms buried into his mind?

The Officers set their prisoner down roughly in the only chair in the room for guests, then took their leave. The door creaked shut, locking itself automatically. Only he had the key. The Captain preferred to handle these sorts of things by himself; the guilt of an innocent loss would weigh on him, and him alone.

Fortunate for him, then, that he had yet to make a mistake.

The Ensign stirred, face pale with fear as he realized just how screwed he was. The Captain waited while he continued to look around; they always spoke first, eventually. It was just a waiting game. This time, he waited three minutes.

"I...um, Good Afternoon, sir?"

The Captain slowly blinked as the recruit nervously stammered, unimpressed. He sounded nervous, shaken- clearly not cut out for the life of a rebel. No doubt the Affini Compact had offered him a whole bevy of comforts to get him on their side. Two square meals, warm showers for a full minute and a half, the kind of stuff he hadn't gotten in years.

What a fool to accept them.

The traitor bit his lip, then snapped a salute as he spoke again. "I'm... I'm here to, um, that is...whatever it is Juarez said, it's all a lie, okay? I'd never betray my brothers and sisters, I swear it!"

A common refrain, an attempt to assuage doubts. The Captain's stare only tightened, pinning the young man in place while he opened a hidden compartment in the left side of his desk, retrieving a few items and placing one on the table, and keeping the other in his right hand.

The tools of the trade for this kind of thing.

He glanced at the tablet first, scrolling through with one hand until he found the Ensign's information, skimming it quickly.

Ah....of course.

Just as he suspected. Those in charge had designated Recruit Burkes as a clear potential ally to the Compact after accidentally speaking with a Mx. Drythes, Third Bloom, over a communication device disguised cleverly as a bar's video game; the report made great effort to impress how dangerous it would be to leave someone like Burkes in the rebels for much longer.

He needed to be...removed.

The Captain pushed down the feeling of guilt in his chest. It was for the best; once the Affini Compact got their vines into you, you were as good as theirs forever. There wasn't any point in trying to bring the recruit back (something he found hard to believe...but those in charge had insisted. Who was he to argue?). Burkes would soon be in a better place, and that was all there was to it.

There was only one thing to do, really. Even if it didn't make sense to him, the orders were clear.

The Captain levelled the service weapon in his hand, aiming it center-mass at Burkes; he rose to his feet and stepped back and over to the bookshelf in the corner. He accessed the hidden switch on the underside of the middle shelf, sliding the whole thing over and revealing a darkened passageway.

Almost done...almost done.

The satisfaction of a job well done dangled just out of reach…but no. Premature celebrations were for others; not the Captain. He knew the hardest part was yet to come; felt it in his gut like vent-critters.

The crewman got to his feet (albeit shakily), eyeing the tablet the Captain held in his other hand. Burkes chewed on his lip, but upon seeing the iron in the Captain's eyes, decided to comply; the recruit cautiously stepped into the dark passage, the Captain following a few steps behind. Neither of them spoke; they both knew there was no longer a point.

Soon, it would be over. Soon, the Captain would get a reward.

Why was his heart beating so rapidly?

It wasn't the first time he had done this. The passage in general was created months ago, serving as a way for the Captain to take care of such business in a discreet manner. No mess, no worrying about others, just clean and simple and safe.

...Simple...

And yet with each step, the feelings grew and grew. The Captain's eyes darted left and right, searching for...something. Someone. But the passage was dark and narrow; they were alone.

The thought of that was...upsetting.

The Captain frowned. Why? This is how it had always worked. Even if it didn't make sense, all that was left to do was bring Burkes to the end (a spot of light rapidly approaching), and then there was…

There was something…that the Captain wasn't supposed to worry about?

It doesn't...it doesn't make sense to...

“Good puppy~” *click click*

The pieces fell into place. The veil was lifted.

Oh.

The two Terrans stepped out of the darkness and right into an ambush, vines of soft green and deep blue shooting out and binding them both before they had a chance to blink. Burke let out a strangled yell of panic, but an injection from her new Mxtress immediately began to calm her right down, based on the noises made soon after.

"There you areeeee, silly little puppy~!" The vines binding the Capt...the puppygirl squeezed her tightly, drawing excited yips and barks from her like water from a well. she fell into Mistress's grasp with delight, dropping the tablet Mistress had given her and the squirt-gun (it shot a harmless paralytic) to focus entirely on licking all over her Owner's face.

she was such a Good girl! she obeyed, and listened, and no one got hurt, and was a Good girl, and everyone was happy!!! she was home she was with Owner and this was her favorite part and Good girls got rewarded!

*click click* went the little circle in Owner's hand, the sound sending shivers of pleasure down her back, causing her eyes to roll and drool to fall. Dumb little puppies like her got Clicker, and it was...sho good...

“Settle down girl, come on now~” puppy’s Owner giggled, brushing her vines through the girl's long hair, which was hidden beneath the cap she usually wore when pretending to be the Old Meanie. her previous self, the one before Owner had found her on that ship, the one she had ripped from her spirit and soul so lovingly over the months in dry dock.

“Wh…whhhuz goin…on?” The cute rescue, the one-who-used-to-be-Burkes, mumbled through her teeth, having already been stripped and redressed in a flowery flowy slip of a thing. She was already looking so much better, with pupils wide and gaze empty.

“It's quite simple, little one~ You see, my obedient and precious little girl here, who you may know as the Captain, did what she did best…” Owner smiled down at the puppy, making small coo-ing noises. The puppygirl giggled, writhing as her tummy got rubbies.

*click click* *click click* *click click*

“she fetched what was asked of her. Such a Good girl, yes you areeeee, yes you areeeee!” Owner began to scritch under puppy’s chin, causing feminine moans and squeals of delight to slip free from her soul. It was so hard pretending to be a mean nasty angry Captain, which is why Owner did that thing in her head to help! She didn't really understand how it worked, but that was okay.

How the affini had broken her? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

What was going to happen to the rest of her crew? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

Her Owner's plans for her? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

*click click*

puppy felt the thoughts and questions blissfully slip from her mind, giggling in delight. Stars, she was such a ditzy little happy pet. So well trained, so mal…malle…um…so well trained! Owner tilted her head up to gaze into her eyes, and puppy felt so happy...and a bit sad.

Because this was the Hard Part.

The part that made her whimper. The part where her Owner's eyes pulled her back to the Old Meanie. She felt herself falling, falling to Owner's pretty voice...

“I know, petal. I know. But you get to sleep with me every single night already, don't you? Yes you do, yes you do~ Good puppy. You're making me sooooo proud, doing this. And very, very soon, we will be ready to get everyone else in one go~”

. . . . .

The Captain woke slowly, peeling his face off of the desk. He groaned, rubbing his forehead as he glanced around the room. What had he…?

Oh, right. He had taken care of the latest traitor, and then he was getting a small nap in. Something told him that he needed to be extra vigilant for the next while, to find out as many traitors as pawsi...as possible. Those in charge were counting on him.

...It was a little weird that he had been so tired he had collapsed into his chair completely naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, or the smile he was unable to wipe from his face, but that was okay.

And in the corner of his mind, just out of sight...a whisper.

It didn’t have to make sense to puppy.

#hdg #human domestication guide #pyxfics #microfiction

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pookietv · 3 days ago

Text

lost in translation (part four) | george clarkey

hello! final part!!!! so sorry you guys have had to wait, hope i made it worth it!!

i really enjoyed making this, and hopefully over the summer i can do more series cause this was SO fun to write and do :)

i hope you guys liked reading it as much as i loved writing it <3

the message plagued your screen like a glaring issue, and it was all you could do to shove it in your pocket and let yourself storm home as fast as your legs could carry you. that didn't stop you going over it in your head in every scenario possible, though.

what did he want to talk about? what was there to even talk about?

he didn't know you had overheard anything, and you couldn't say with any certainty it was about you. which left you in a strange angry limbo that felt half like a self inflicted wound.

when you got back to your apartment, pressing keys into the lock as quickly as you could and allowing your body to slump into your sofa as you willed yourself not to look at your phone.

it was fine, you could just ignore the text. worrying over george had taken up much of your life over previous months, and it felt right, right? he had ignored you for ages, you could pretend this one text didn't happen. you could leave the carefully constructed wall between you standing.

but the confession you overheard replayed over your mind like an intrusive thought you couldn't will away, as hard as you tried. you couldn't pretend you didn't want to answer.

the easy laughs and comfortableness of george, the part of you that felt a pang every time you ignored each-other in a group setting and wished he would go back to normal ached inside you.

pulling your phone out, a sigh that felt heavier than it should escaped you as your thumbs moved over the screen.

"talk about what?" you responded, and pressed send before you could allow yourself to spiral more into questioning whether that blunt text was slightly too harsh.

his reply was almost instant, and that made you feel good about yourself, like he had waited patiently with the sole intent of replying to you. "i'd really like to meet up to talk. whenever you're free, i don't want to be inconvenient. coffee maybe, my treat?"

you hesitated for a long while before replying, the words burning a hole through your phone. "tomorrow morning?" you sent.

the next text from him came just as quick, "perfect. the coffee place next to yours, at 10?"

you mentally acknowledged the text, but let it sit in the unopened part of your phone. maybe it was a little bit of power, for him to sit and wonder if you had seen things the way you had done for time before. you debated if it was slightly bitchy of you, but you felt justified to be a little bitchy, this once.

the rest of your night was a blur of overthinking every scenario that could possibly happen the following morning, each conversation being more anxiety inducing than the previous one.

when the morning came, it was surprisingly sunny for april in london - though you weren't complaining, fluffy clouds could do nothing but brighten your current mood.

the painstaking care you put into making sure you looked nice, but not too put together bothered you. you hated that you were putting effort into not looking like you put effort in all for a man you disliked, right?

when you got to the coffee shop, you were grateful that it wasn't too busy - the early morning crowd had left after their caffeine fix and the lunch crowd wouldn't hit for a while, leaving a couple of older people and students on the surrounding tables.

you spotted george before he spotted you, sat at a table facing the window on the opposite side of the street you had walked in from. he looked a little different, his posture slightly vulnerable in a way you hadn't seen.

when you approached the table, he stood up - a half nervous smile gracing his lips, fingers touching at the opposite chair, pulling it out for you, "hey," he said gently.

the word felt small and silly, but you responded the same. what more could you say?

"hey,"

the moments that followed were an awkward silence - the kind that used to be comfortable when you were sat in his room and watching him doing some kind of editing, but now felt heavy.

"i ordered your usual, if that's okay, uh, wasn't sure, and they asked, so.." george filled in, the background of cups or brief conversation a strange soundtrack.

"yeah, um, thank you," you replied. you decided that lingering on the fact he remembered your order stung more than helped you. "you wanted to talk?"

you watched george as his lips pressed together, his gaze falling at the table for a moment as he took a deeper than usual breath, "yeah, i.. i know hearing any of this is late, and you have all rights to be annoyed but," he paused for a moment, and his hands touched his overgrown mullet, which you hated to admit that he had grown into too well, "i, uh... well, is it cringe to say i messed up?"

you felt your eyebrows raise, the small part of you that wanted to claim victory of him acknowledging his behaviour winning, head tilting in an offer for him to continue.

"the distance," his voice lowered slightly, "you didn't do anything wrong, it was 'cause of me, i..." he hesitated again, eyes looking back at you, "i was starting to have feelings, you know? proper ones, and it scared the fuck out of me."

his confession hung in the air, mirroring what you had overheard from his conversation with arthur, like the most twisted victory flag.

"scared you?" you echoed his admission, "so you... ignored me, thinking that would fix stuff? i thought i'd done something, you know... like, for ages, all i could think was, god, i've really upset george, he must hate me, but..."

"you know better than me that i'm not smart. it was stupid, i know," he admitted, his face slightly twinging at you admitting the hurt you felt, "so stupid, i figured pulling away was better than ruining our friendship,"

"pulling away hurt our friendship more, no?" you murmured for a moment, before being paused by the waitress bringing two coffee cups - two lattes, one iced, one hot. he didn't like iced coffee, you loved it.

"like i said, stupid," he spoke again, looking down at the coffee cup. you took a sip of your drink - vanilla and oat milk - and felt a weird sense of pride that he did actually remember it. "i didn't want to make you uncomfortable and i figured the feelings would just... go away."

silence that chipped away from any barrier left between the two of you fell.

you decided to break it, your voice softer, less cutting and less filled with half-hearted anger.

"did they?"

the smile that painted his face was rueful, a small shake of his head, "no. it made everything worse, for both of us i think."

the moment of absorbing that information felt like all you could give yourself. you felt bad, a guilty look you never placed on him covering his expressions.

"i overheard you," you said finally, "with arthur. i wasn't... i... i was going to the toilet, and i heard..."

flickerings of surprise covered his face, a small smile that you may have said was cocky, but more resigned followed, "right, well... that makes things easier, i guess," he said, his signature small chuckle continuing, "i know i don't deserve it, but i'm sorry for making you feel awful, you're great - smart, funny, kind. and i was just, stupidly caught up in all my shit, and i was just ignoring how good the thing in front of me was."

his hand hovered over yours for a moment, as if unsure if he was allowed to touch you right now. the sentiment almost made you melt and reach in for a poorly timed hug, but you kept composure and moved your hand slightly forward to meet his, his fingers slightly closing over yours.

"so," you murmured, "what now, george?"

the look in his eyes, the happy, hopeful look made you feel dopey.

"now? i'd like us to.. y'know, properly try. the normal stuff, not ignoring you, taking you on a date, me not being an idiot... normal things," he said, letting slight jokes seep in, "a proper date, a do-over, 'cause i missed a lot of your good moments as a friend, ."

his thumb lightly ran over the top of your hand, a small comforting back and forth motion.

the warmth spreading through you felt like the first good day of summer, the bitterly harboured anger like a distant memory after clarity.

"a proper date? didn't know you'd even heard of one of those, george clarke," you lightly joked, a genuine smile finally gracing your face.

his smile widened, crinkled corners of his eyes relaxed, "my track record with you isn't great, i'll admit, but... i know a good date." he joked back, "i've watched romance films, candles and questionable italian food..."

"oh, questionable food? now you're really selling it, george," you joked, taking a sip of your drink, the sweetness of the vanilla stupidly feeling like some mirroring of the conversation.

"right, well. you'll see, i promise."

#george clarkey #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x reader #george clarke #georgeclarkey fic #georgeclarke fic #georgeclarkey x reader #georgeclarke x reader #george clarkey fic

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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 1 day ago

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A Bit More Time (Part Eight)

Schlatt x gn!reader <-P. Seven P. One ???-> Summary: You've finally had enough and decide that you need to talk to Schlatt about how you're feeling. Alcohol and feeling's don't mix well. Warnings: angsty! Crying, drinking, mentions of panic attacks and a breakdown, nothing graphic A/N: Look who's back! I love going mia and abandoning my tumblr for months. Expect this story to have 2 or 3 more parts, probably ending with some smut - I have the rest of it planned out so hopefully I won't take as long this time. Thank you all for being patient ❤️

It's been nice having Jay back in your life; he's slotted back in so easily and patched right over the hole he left in your heart all those years ago when he all but disappeared on you. He's brought comfort and familiarity again that you've just never found with anyone except him.

For the past few weeks, it's been comfortable, working back from awkward past friends, to learn each other's movements again, figuring out how each of you slots into each other's life again as your friendship settles. You hang out a lot now, spending a lot of time with each other just doing nothing, running errands, going on drives, watching movies - just existing together in an incredibly domestic way that you always thought your friendship would evolve into, just with a different title than you hoped.

That's been the real kicker in all of this, the aching still in your heart as you slump down in the couch next to him, leaning slightly into his side as you watch a movie in his living room and remind yourself that you can't reach out and curl up into his lap the way you want to. You'll just make it awkward if you say anything, so you keep your mouth shut.

It hasn't been easy. There was a particularly hard night a week ago when you stumbled upon him on Bumble, which you signed up for in an attempt to take your mind off him, which failed spectacularly, and realised that he was putting himself out there for other people, not you. You had swiped on him, sending him some stupid message as your hands shook and tears flooded your waterline, which you swallowed back when he called you and tried to laugh off his embarrassment at being caught like that.

"Oh my god," your friend Bec squealed excitedly over the music, playing loudly in the bar you had gathered all your friends into, wanting to show Jay the few spots you had become regulars of before he left. She thrust a phone over to you, Jay's eyes following curiously as he peered down over your shoulder, "that guy with the dog matched with me."

You whistle as you take the phone, hiding your grimace as you read his poor attempt at an opening line, but smile excitedly back at her, "that's so good! He was so good-looking!"

"Is this Tinder?" Jay asks next to you as he fails to hide his disdain for the pour attempt at a pickup line this guy decided would be the key to getting him laid, eyes shifting up to meet yours when you nod and hand Bec her phone back, "god don't tell me you're on these apps."

You just shrug and huff out a laugh, "I'm on Bumble," you mumble back, a bit embarrassed as your cheeks flood with heat when you hear him laugh next to you. You nudge him as you reach for your drink, "don't laugh. How else am I meant to meet guys?"

He presses the tongue to the inside of his cheek as his eyes meet yours as he goes to say something before looking away, reaching for his own drink, "any luck?"

You just sigh and shake your head, "not really. No one worth my time yet."

It's just past midnight when you finally work up the courage to go, when the sick feeling in your stomach becomes too much, and you throw your hoodie on and charge out the door before you can give yourself a chance to backtrack. You hadn't been able to stop thinking about Jay all night, for longer than that if you're honest with yourself, and you've worked yourself up into an anxiety-fuelled panic that is fuelling most of your movements now.

The Uber driver doesn’t say much, thank god, and you spend the ride nervously watching the familiar streets roll by, each one pulling you closer to whatever it is you’re about to walk into. You don’t even have a plan — no neat little monologue lined up, no dramatic one-liner, nothing. Just a buzzing feeling in your chest that says if you don’t do this now, you never will, and a sick anxiety that follows as you near closer to Jay's apartment.

You’re halfway up the stairs to his apartment when you realise your hands are shaking. You knock once, loudly. You don't hear anything at first and consider leaving, taking the first chance you can to let yourself run away and forget you ever wanted to do this.

"Wh—" Schlatt squints at you through the crack in the door, voice slurred and groggy, “the fuck’re you doin’ here?”

Your heart drops a little. He’s drunk.

"Can I come in?" you ask, trying not to let your disappointment show. His eyes are bloodshot and heavy-lidded, hair messy and and clothes wrinkled, like he's been tossing around for hours. He leans against the doorframe, blinking hard as if trying to make sure it’s really you, willing his eyes to focus and not see straight through you.

He swings the door open without answering.

The place smells obviously like whiskey, there's a half-empty bottle of Jameson on the coffee table, a show paused on the TV, and the blaring light coming from his office where he's left his streaming set up turned on. He walks in ahead of you, stumbling a bit before collapsing back onto the couch, head lolling onto the cushion behind him.

"It's midnight," he groans as he lets his eyes fall shut, his words sound almost pained as he sinks into the cushion.

"I know," you say back as you stand there, awkwardly, unsure of where to situate yourself as you watch him.

"Why're you here?" he says, the words snapping out of him in a way he hadn't expected, both of you flinching at his harsh tone.

You just stand there, not really sure what to say, as the words die in your throat and your brain goes blank of any of the thousands of things you've been dying to tell him over the past few weeks. After wishing for this moment for song long, months of longing and waiting and wishing, you're finally here, and you're floundering.

His eyes finally open to meet yours with a groan, as he blinks hard at the light pouring down the hallway, "I'll call you an Uber."

"what?"

"What?" he echoes back, though it sounds more like he's trying to defend himself from an accusation rather than ask a genuine question.

"You're kicking me out?"

"Is there a reason you're here?"

"We need to talk."

"Then talk," he says, his eyes intense as they stare at you, glossy with he effects of the alcohol as the storm of emotions swirl behind them.

"I don’t know what we’re doing," you force out, trying to keep your voice steady, even as it threatens to shake.

"That much is clear," he says as he forces a laugh, finally sitting up as he slumps over, head in his hands, as he rubs his face.

"Can you be serious?" you snap as you move forward, feet coming into his line of sight, even as he continues to avert his gaze from you.

"Can you just fucking tell me what's going on?"

"I like you!" you yell suddenly, the words coming out in a ramble of emotion, "I fucking like you ok? I like you and I've liked you for years now and I know you like me too but god you keep fucking pushing and pulling me and I don't know where I fucking stand."

He stays quiet.

"I don’t know what we’re doing," you continue, trying to keep your voice from rising further, "I don’t know if you’re trying to keep me close or push me away, or if you just want to have your cake and eat it too—"

"Don't make this about me being selfish," he cuts in sharply, jaw clenched.

"You are being selfish," you say, blinking back angry tears, "you've been selfish our entire friendship! I've liked you for so long and you fucking new that! You ruined any chance I had in highschool for a normal relationship, even fucking formal went to shit because you couldn't handle your emotions. Fuck and then you just stopped trying!" you say as the tears finally fall, "you fucking abandoned me when I needed you, you just stopped being my friend." Your chest heaves painfully as you begin to sob now, struggling to take in air as you feel a panic attack rise, "I turned up for you even when it was hard, I was always there."

"I never asked you to be," he spits, the venom in his voice shocking you as you watch him reach for the bottle of alcohol on the coffee table.

You watch him drink away his sorrows as he stands on shaky legs, pushing past you to walk away into the kitchen as you continue to sob in his living room, your head feeling dizzy as the room feels suffocating around you.

It's the kind of sentence that confirms all your worst fears, a gut punch that drives home the exact anxieties that plagued you for years when you thought about Jay. Once again, he has to remind you, your relationship exists on his terms.

You hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, glasses clattering that echoes violently in your ears as you shut your eyes, trying to force your breathing to return to normal. When you open them, he's standing there, watching you from the archway to the kitchen, swaying unsteadily on his feet as you continue to sob.

You don't know what to do, your eyes burn with tears as you both just stare at each other in silence, him, too scared to speak, and you, too heartbroken.

Finally, he says your name, soft and whispered as he moves forward to you, standing in front of you as he abandons the bottle of alcohol onto the couch. The apologies fumble out as he takes in the sight of you, crying like this in front of him, because of him, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he finally realises the extent of the damage he's done.

"I didn't mean that," he says gently, afraid to startle you, as he gently reaches for your hand, letting out a shaky breath of relief when you let him take your hand, "you know I didn't."

You just nod as you take his hand, forcing yourself to count your breaths as you calm yourself down.

"You're so important to me," he says softly as he steps closer, your bodies almost touching as the smell of alcohol on his breath invades your senses, "I've been a fucking awful friend to you."

"You have," you say softly, no real bite to your words even as you confirm his fears. As much as this hurts, as much as he hurts you, you know he didn't mean that, deep down he does care about you, years of friendship like the two of you had can't be faked.

"I want you," he confesses softly, "so badly. I have since school," he takes hold of your other hand, squeezing them comfortingly, "but I want to be good for you."

You nod softly as you shut your eyes, your breathing steady as you lean into his touch. "I want you to have everything you deserve," he continues, "and right now, I can't do that for you."

A tear runs down your cheek, "I can't wait forever."

"I won't make you," he promises, "just a little bit more time."

Lovely patient people who are interested in this: @jellybell92 @olive823 @schlattandcompany @imgayandvoreethatsall @aesthetixhoe @mads-hemmo @elliejell @schluttforschlatt @kyxmlii @stoneybun @lambyblurbsfics @fancy-fleur-blog @falseplastictrees @stupiddguitarwh0re @m4yjail3rr @nagisasugino

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fern-thefox · 1 day ago

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its headcanon time. this is mostly all characters because i havent thought of new two time headcanons yet

bluudud has a celebrity crush on guest 1337. guest knows and does not like him back.

noob is a big cat lover. he seems like a dog person due to how happy he always seems (this is after getting used to the forsaken realms and he just started to make the best of it) but hes prefers cats alot more. theyre much calmer and are just cuter

noob really likes vodka. like they arent an alcoholic or anything but if they can drink vodka they will. they just like the taste

guest 1337 treats some of the survivors like his own kids because how much he missed his daughter. what he would give to see her again

007n7 is double jointed. the killers can kinda tell if its a clone or not due to this because the clones arent for some reason

taph makes nests out of blankets. this man is pigeon coded so i know those nests look horrid to. (this is influenced by the fact taph mains make the most diabolical tripwires sometimes)

most of the survivors know asl. the few that dont are two time (the cult didnt teach many things), noob (he could never focus or remember what meant what), and chance (that man focuses on gambling and gambling only

john doe usually cant do anything except kill, but sometimes he has times where his corruption lessens and he can make conversation. these dont happen very often but him and 1x can get along quite a bit when this happens

azure and 1x complain about two time and shedletsky together. their hatred towards their ex partner and creator fuel eachother

c00lkidd cant swim. the killers have had scares due to c00lkidd trying to jump in the pond near their cabin. they have locks on the doors now and hide the keys.

c00lkidd has been getting raised by the killers ever since he got there. the killers dont get why the kid should suffer more then he does (i like to think c00lkidd has chronic pain. the spectre didnt provide medicine for a long time as well so he was just constantly in pain.)

the killers theme songs actually play during rounds. no one knows how they play but they do. if the survivors werent being chased around almost getting murdered everyday they would actually enjoy the themes

alright thats all for today. i hope you enjoy these headcanons that i have provided. im going to go cry in a corner now because i really want chick fil a and still havent gotten it. someone bless me with chick fil a. i beg

#bluudud forsaken #guest 1337 forsaken #noob forsaken #007n7 forsaken #taph forsaken #two time forsaken #chance forsaken #john doe forsaken #1x1x1x1 forsaken #azure forsaken #shedletsky forsaken #c00lkidd forsaken #forsaken headcanons #roblox forsaken #forsaken #roblox

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honeyhonest · 2 days ago

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✧˖°. habituality

warnings: gn!reader, fluff and comedy mostly, reader is ADULT yuu, curse you sinclair for giving me visions again, one (1) dirty joke, not edited, this is kinda nothing just an exercise in crowyuu thought

length: not too long

It started Sunday.

You were prone to periods of strangeness. It was symptomatic of your tenure at Night Raven College; some days, you'd be, well, you, your normal, sane self. And some days, you'd be a stranger to your friends; fits of maniacal laughter, moodiness, melancholy, a complete lack of appetite and no motivation, and a repulsion to touch and talk, that all left your friends at a loss.

This was different.

Based on your bright smile and sunny disposition, one might have assumed, from a distance, that today was a "you" day. Your head held high, you walked with a spring in your step, humming some mysterious tune. You weren't bothered by the blinding sun or the bothersome, boring tasks that the Headmage had given you the keys to the library for, which you were now loosely twirling around your fingers.

It was as if nothing could make you happier than surveying the school, first thing on a Sunday morning.

You had even asked Ace and Deuce to come along, although you usually did these things yourself; which should have been their first clue that something was horribly wrong.

"And all Saturday, too," you explain, reshelving the books that had been ripped from their beds during the last "incident" (a Diasomnia student had accidentally taken a Savanaclaw student's seat).

"I am getting better at it, though, if you can believe. It's just a matter of knowing how to pace oneself... typewriters are an amazing feat of technology!"

You finish your tangent abruptly, as if expecting a response from someone whom was absolutely not your friends.

Deuce's head bobs, and Ace pulls him back by the hair to keep him awake.

"...Anyhow, it can be- and should be- said that the students of this school could stand to learn a thing or two from the patience and delicacy it takes to master the typewriter,"

Again, you wait for a response, as if either of them had anything to say to that. Ace is checking his Magicam DMs. Deuce wipes his nose on his sleeve without thinking and then silently curses himself for it.

You clear your throat. "...Right. Well, how have you two been faring?"

"Hurmg?" Deuce gurgles, half-awake. Ace sighs.

"Do you need help?"

"Me?" you ask, shelving another volume of Encyclopedia Twistanica. "No, I'm fine."

"Then why are we here?"

You stare blankly, unblinking, as if shocked to be asked. "What do you mean? I thought you might want to spend some time together. I've been so busy lately, I..."

"All you can talk about is work," Ace says. "You need a break, seriously. Go home and take a nap, Deuce and I will finish this for you."

"Hurrg?" Deuce groans. Ace shakes him by the shoulders until he's upright.

You look between the two, a bit taken aback, but no less thankful for the help.

"If you insist, I... I'll go back to Ramshackle,"

You hesitate, still, to leave, lingering in the doorway as if your friends might beckon you back at any moment.

"Good!" Ace calls. "And, seriously! Go rot your brain on Magicam or something! Play a game, feed Grim, just, no working!"

---

It carried on to Tuesday.

The courtyard is unusually (and unluckily, for the events following) devoid of life today, the cloudy weather having driven the students of Night Raven College indoors.

Its only occupants- Ace Trappola, moaning in misery, and Deuce Spade, insistent on revising their history of magic report before taking shelter in the warm, comfortable, strawberry-scented rooms of Heartslabyul- are sitting on a stone bench.

The following voice from behind is near unrecognizable:

"Ah! You're here! I have a surprise for you~!"

Ace stiffens, as if being caught in the act of something criminal, and Deuce stiffens, as if ready to salute whichever housewarden or member of the staff had came at them from behind.

It's you.

"Prefect?" Deuce asks, picking up the pen that had fallen from Ace's loose fingers.

"You scared the crap out of us!" Ace snaps. "I thought you were Crowley or something! Geez!"

You sit between them on the bench and scowl. "Not funny. Crowley and I are nothing alike. And you shouldn't say "crap", swearing on campus like that, you'll set a bad example for the others,"

Ace and Deuce exchange a look.

"Now, who wants to hear the surprise?"

You don't let them answer, throwing your arms out into the air with a dramatic flourish. "I've got the whole week off! Isn't that wonderful!"

Ace sniffles. "...Well, good. You're really starting to freak me out. I asked Trey about you last night and he says you might be manic,"

"Manic?" you ask. "I've never felt better. I just thought if I spent my time more wisely, I might have less work to do. Of course, I'll still have to regularly check in with the Headmage-"

"Woah," Deuce says. "You just said you have the week off."

"Yes, that's right. I do,"

Ace narrows his eyes. "Then why are you still going to see Crowley?"

You give the two a confused glance, as if the thought to not see Crowley hadn't occurred to you. Ace just sighs.

"Your brain is totally fried from overworking yourself. Just take the week off, okay? No staff, no extra studies, no doing Crowley's dirty laundry. Get a hobby or something, man, this is just sad,"

Deuce nods, though his eyes are softer, and more sympathetic. "Take it easy, Prefect,"

You ponder on that for a moment, and then, with an unusual amount of flair and flourish, throw your coat out and stand.

"Very well. I will... retire to my room, for the evening," you say, as if it were some awful thing. "Alone. All alone. With no one to talk to. Or to listen to me... ah, very well, I'm going now! Goodbye! Good night! I'll see you first thing in the morning!"

Ace sighs as you drag your feet all the way inside.

Deuce's smile drops. "Do you think they're going through something?"

"I'd say something is going through them, more like it," he mutters, and then makes himself sit straighter to think. "Y'know, this isn't like when they start acting all freaky and moody."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when they get weird like that, they start acting like a stranger,"

Deuce raises an eyebrow. "And this isn't the same, how?"

"They're not acting like a stranger. We know good and well who they're acting like,"

---

"And then they all but told me to leave and barricade myself in my room!"

Crowley tsks, cradling your face in the palm of his hand, taloned fingers softly caressing your cheek.

"I'm certainly not surprised. No matter how many times I've lectured the students of this school on decorum, they're resoundingly rude! I could not count the times I've been shooed away..."

You whine. "They're supposed to be my friends, though,"

"But they're only children," he reminds you, his other hand holding your hip, readjusting your weight in his lap. "It's in their nature to be cruel. It's our job to teach them better, is it not?"

"I guess," you grumble.

He playfully pinches your side and then cups your face in both hands, holding you still so that he can kiss the side of your head without you losing an eye to the beak of his mask.

"Worry not. They're only protecting their own precious egos- I am sure they respect you just as much as they respect myself!"

#dire crowley x reader

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mianmimi · 15 hours ago

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Thoughts on the post credit scene for Thunderbolts. Spoilers below.

I got spoiled regarding the post credit scene before I even watched the movie. And man the reaction I had was so visceral, cause what do you mean they were insulting Sam? 😭 I was genuinely so mad hearing that Sam filed for copyright of the Avengers name. It just felt so out of character. And worse than that, it hurt to know he was being talked about poorly.

But then I actually watched the movie. And you know what…..I actually ended up really enjoying it. They express frustration with Sam and insulted him. Hell, Alexei basically called him dumb. But what turned that scene into gold for me was the constant reminder that these people are essentially really, really dense.

Walker confusing the space problem as a problem with the space in the tower instead of outer space. Alexei calling Sam dumb while wearing that god-awful suit tacked on with sponsorships and thinking Avengerz with a Z was the solution to their problems…..It just really emphasized how different Sam is, in a good way.

It’s like are we really gonna trust their assessment of Sam when they clearly ain’t all that bright? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also Yelena complaining about…”What doesn’t Sam Wilson understand? We’re the Avengers because the government says so.” It just reminded me of FATWS. The government can give you a mantle but that doesn’t mean you’re actually meant for it.

Sam doesn’t need this crazy validation, they do. Sam knows who he is. I strongly feel like he just wants the Avengers copyrighted so it doesn’t turn into some commercial slop. Like look at Alexi all proud of the sponsorships. It’s turning the name into something people can buy and sell. I think Sam would hate that.

He and his friends were essentially persecuted because of that name. It was his life for so long, and there’s so many memories and legacies tied with that name. It should be treated with respect. And clearly it’s not. At least with Valentina at the helm. It’s just being used as a flashy word, a propaganda piece for the government. And we know how Sam feels about that.

If anything I was more disappointed with Bucky. Granted there’s over year between the Void happening and the post credit scene. Lots of stuff might have happened between them. I sincerely feel like their falling out took time. I just don’t see Sam cutting off Bucky immediately and vice versa. That time jump is there for a reason. And by the sound of it the falling out was recent, meaning they did try to work things out.

Also Bucky not knowing Sam filed for copyright broke my heart cause that means Sam went low contact :( Bucky just looks so sullen and sad. And it sucks that like none of them pick up on that either? They’re so caught up in being recognized that they don’t try to comfort Bucky that’s just like….looking like he’s about to cry. Idk man. Sam would have picked up on Bucky looking miserable.

It’s just interesting how Sam doesn’t get a physical cameo but his presence and influence is all over that post credit scene. Also…..Bucky baby, you could have defended Sam just a little.

I ship Sambucky heavy. At the end of the day though, my heart will always lean towards Sam. I can’t wait to see how they reconcile or not in Doomsday. As much as I love the sweet moments we get with them, I low key enjoy the drama and tension too 😆 Keeps it exciting.

#thunderbolts #thunderbolts spoilers #post credit scene #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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quantumbutterflies · 1 day ago

Text

CW: Yandere Sunday, noncon/dubcon implied, female reader, Sunday’s tuning/brainwashing

Sunday has tried everything he can think of to silence Wonweek’s voice in his head. For a long while, he thought Wonweek had completely fused into him after the fight against his inner demons in the Grand Theater.

That was until he met you.

When Sunday boarded the Astral Express, he never expected there to be such a friendly girl who warmed his icy heart with her smiles alone. He still remembers the way you greeted him with cookies in the shape of music notes, excitedly telling him that since he likes music you made those cookies just for his arrival.

Sunday remembers lying awake in bed that night, alone with his thoughts.

He expected to be shunned immediately, yet here you were readily accepting him. Giving him a warm welcome, like he mattered.

Like he was something more than his mistakes.

“Sunny,” Wonweek whispered to him in the back of his mind, like a little devil on his shoulder, “We have to make her ours.”

And as much as he is loath to admit it, he felt it too.

“Hello, Sunday!” You greet him cheerfully, sitting next to him on an open seat, “I hope you don’t mind if I sit here for a bit?” “Not at all,” He replies smoothly, despite the racing of his heart, “I’m happy to have your company.”

“Thank you! Um, actually, if it’s okay… I was wondering something.” You trail off a bit, looking away momentarily before locking eyes with him once more. “Is it true that you tried to become a god?”

“...” He says nothing, and a silence falls between you.

“I mean, I didn’t think it was a bad thing or anything!” He can tell you’re just trying to comfort him. Of course you hate him now. You want him gone. You want him off the Express-

“I just thought…” Your expression grows quite flustered as you play with your fingers absentmindedly, “You make a much cuter angel.”

Only the sound of a drink being knocked over can be heard as he throws himself at you, pinning you to your seat. Gazing down at you with eyes that are almost full of madness. He leans closer to you, his lips hovering right above yours, almost close enough that they’re brushing against you as his eyes burn a hole through your very soul.

The fire is blazing in his heart. He feels afraid for a moment. He feels vulnerable.

And yet… He has not felt this much of a power trip since he was first recognized by the Order.

Sunday plays his heart out on the piano that night, his fingers harshly hitting the keys, trying desperately to silence the part of him he wishes to be rid of.

He thought, perhaps, if he fulfilled the wish of his other self that he might go away.

If only Wonweek wasn’t as difficult to satisfy as Sunday himself.

“What are you waiting for, Sunny? Take her. Make her ours.” That damn voice again, the one that can only be described as a mockery of his own. Sunday wants to claw at his hair, rip Wonweek out of him by force. “It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? You could sneak into her room in the dead of night, muffle her screams with your scarf, and-”

Sunday harshly slams his hand against the keys, playing an extremely loud and long note. He can vaguely hear Stelle complaining from her room.

“I’m not like that. I’m not you.” Sunday finally says, barely registering he actually said it out loud.

“You may not be as open about your desires, Sunny,” Wonweek’s voice is grating on his ears now, even worse than the ugly note he just played, “But we both know they’re the same as mine.”

Sunday doesn’t feel the same around you after that. He has to calm himself down immediately after every interaction with you. Even looking at you causes him to run off, afraid of what he might do to you if he sticks around.

It isn’t until you grab his hand one day with heartbreak in your eyes that he finally snaps. “Why are you avoiding me, Sunny?” And oh, how that nickname sounds so different coming from your lips.

He thinks he might actually like it for once.

“...I apologize.” He chooses his words carefully, trying to sound sorrowful, like someone who wants the mouse to take the cheese.

And to his immense pleasure, you fall for it like a fish on a hook.

Your vision starts to get a bit blurry. You blink in disbelief.

“Huh…? What’s happening…?” You ask, feeling your body involuntarily relax so much you fall over into Sunday’s arms. “Shhh…” Sunday shushes you softly, gently catching you. You feel so nice in his embrace, you feel so soft and warm and comforting and it’s invigorating to have his body so close to yours.

He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself down. He’s never been very good at self soothing.

“I think you just need to lie down.” With those words, he begins to drag you away, heading in the direction opposite of your room.

“Wait, Sunday… My room is-” “I know.” He cuts you off, gently patting your head, “Just relax for me, okay?”

Your vision turns colorful, soft patterns and hues dancing at the edges. You have no strength to resist, you can only let him lead you away.

Sunday takes you back to his room, guiding you to lay down in his bed. You look good sprawled out on his sheets like that, almost like you’re a doll.

A doll just for him.

Sunday climbs on top of you, shushing you as you begin to struggle against his touch. He ties your thrashing limbs to the bed frame, the visual disturbances only intensifying and making your head spin even more than it was before.

“It’s okay,” He promises, but you both already know it’s a lie, “I’m not going to hurt you…”

“Why-” You ask while trying to sit up, but he cuts you off with his answer almost immediately. “Because I fell in love with you.” The truth feels good rolling off his tongue, and he loves the way it makes his heart start to race uncontrollably. His hands are shaking. He feels elated.

Sunday is sure he’s never felt so happy in his life.

He gently says your name, easing you to lay back once more, urging you through his tuning to stop struggling and accept his advances.

And for the first time since he met you, Sunday’s mind is peacefully quiet.

#yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail

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