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#That's the only thing you know how to do. You cannot owe up to anything and you are proving it time and time again. Even now.
shoddynomenclature · 3 months
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Heya 👋 I enjoy reading your headcanons, and I love your prompts… could you write the ladies for #5 Tav fainting from a hidden injury?
Tav Faints Due to Hidden Injury
Hey! I always enjoy reading yours as well! Feel free to use any of those prompts as I’d love to see your take on them.
I probably won’t do anything more injury prompts for a while; there’s only so many ways I can hurt poor Tav.
Here’s prompt #5 for Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara.
On the way into Baldur’s Gate, while all of your companions watch the lands free themselves of the shadow curse, you manage to walk carelessly into a broken cart handle. You’re no healer, but you know Shadowheart is going to have a thing or two to say if you ask her to patch it up. You decide it doesn’t look that bad, and patch it up yourself. It’s an exciting day, finally arriving in the city. Why bring down the mood with a fresh gash in the side?
Shadowheart
The two of you are taking a short walk to familiarize yourselves with the new camp at Wrym’s Lookout.
You had been trying to keep your cool, but as you climbed up ladders and dodged rumble, you felt the ache in your side start to grow.
You stop and lean against a beam for support, clutching your side and breathing heavily.
“Are you alright, love?” Shadowheart asks tenderly, approaching you slowly before you quickly collapse on the ground.
She rushes over, trying and failing to catch you. She rolls you over on your back, lifting your shirt.
She sees the makeshift bandages you’ve wrapped yourself in and carefully slices away at them with her dagger.
She flinches, seeing the deep gash in your skin. Luckily, you just happen to be in love with one of the best clerics around. A cure wounds spell patches you right up.
You wake up almost immediately to a very unhappy looking Shadowheart.
“Care to explain the massive laceration I just found under your shirt?” She quips. “Or, are we just withholding such information with one another these days.”
“You’re one to talk about withholding information,” you attempt to joke.
She does not laugh. “So I suppose you’ve just forgotten how you acquired such a wound?”
You sighed. “It was on the bridge on the way over. I-I impaled myself with a piece of wood.”
She hits the back of your head with the back of her hand. “Ow!” You shout.
“It would’ve taken me two seconds to heal that wound up fresh. Now you’ve probably got a variety of different diseases swimming around from how poorly you packed it.”
She reaches out a hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s go,” she says. “I’m going to teach you how to properly wrap a wound.”
Lae’zel
You and Lae’zel walk alongside the city walls, just outside the city. Looking for clear signs of damage from the Netherbrain.
She comments a few times on how you are moving slower than usual. “We cannot afford to be so sluggish in the days to come,” she tells you.
It isn’t until you fade paler than Vlaakith herself that she notices something is seriously wrong. You fall to the ground before she can think to catch you.
She notices blood beginning to speckle your undershirt. “Tsk’va!” She curses, cutting away the fabric entirely.
You’re too far from camp and losing too much blood for her to get you back in time. She’s going to have to deal with this herself.
But she couldn’t tell you the first thing about closing a wound.
Hair. She remembers a ghustil sewing her up with a strand of her own hair. She plucks a hair from your head and gets to work.
You wake up halfway through the delicate operation, half crying from the pain of the repeated rough stabbing of your already tender wound.
“Silence!” She shouts, lazer focused on the task at hand. It doesn’t take a psionic tadpole connection to tell that she is angry.
When she’s finally finished, the wound looks… unpleasant to put it mildly. But it should be enough to get you back to camp.
“I didn’t think I needed to explain to you the stupidity of hiding grave afflictions,” she spits.
You open your mouth to apologize, but she cuts you off. “I will not hear apologies, only promises that it will not happen again.”
Karlach
Growing up on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, Karlach is all too excited to revisit some of her favorite places with you.
Her excitement makes for an easy distraction. She is so focused on her surroundings she doesn’t notice the way you grind your teeth together in pain.
“Hey Soldier, check this out,” she shouts excitedly, walking back towards you with some cool plants she found.
You try to smile, but whiteness clouds your vision as you fall to the ground. She drops the plant and runs to hold you up.
“Soldier? You know you’re not supposed to go and pass out on me. I don’t know how to…”
Panic starts to rise in her chest and she lays you gently on the ground. “Alright Karlach, you got this,” she assures herself.
She lifts the base of your shirt, starting to panic again when she sees the blood soaked bandages.
She gingerly removes them revealing the nasty gash underneath. “Oh boy, you really did a number on yourself,” she says.
She looks around, trying to find absolutely anything that could close the wound. She didn’t know any spells, nor did she know anything about sutures.
She sighed. She had an idea, but she didn’t like it. “Okay soldier, I’m just gonna need you to stay asleep for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”
Dammon had fixed up her engine so she didn’t burn so hot anymore, but she was pretty sure she could just get hot enough….
She pinched the wound together, then, with clenched teeth, she placed her other hand on top of it. She channeled all of her anger until she smelt the burning of flesh.
You jolted awake with a scream and she pulled away. The wound was now replaced with a cauterized burn.
“It worked! You’re okay!” She exclaimed, rather impressed with herself. “You are never allowed to do that to me again.”
You groan, sitting up. Your head is still spinning from pain and blood loss. You sway ever so slightly.
“Woah, slow down there soldier,” Karlach says, gently pushing you back to lie down. “Again does include right now, you know. Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.”
Minthara
You and Minthara take a stroll around the outer city, allowing her to take in a surface city for the first time.
Not far into your walk though, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Minthara I think I need to sit-“ you are cut off abruptly by your own collapse.
You fall limp onto the cobblestone on the city streets.
She is quickly down beside, cooling your face with her cool hands. It’s only then she notices the bloody bandages under your shirt.
Confused, she cuts away with them away, revealing your injury.
Her face immediately pales. The wound is mild, nothing she is incapable of handling with a simple laying of hand. But you kept this from her.
She patches the wound with a gentle touch. But her mind continues to race. Why would you not tell her? Do you not trust her? Should she trust you?
You stir awake with a whine. The pain in your side is dulled, and you’re able to sit up with relative ease.
Minthara stares harshly back at you, silently awaiting an explanation. When you don’t offer one she asks, “why have you kept this from me?” She tries to hide her hurt behind anger.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “It’s just- I knew you were excited to see the city- and it was a stupid injury anyway I just- I didn’t want to be a bother.“
She looks dissatisfied with your answer. “We do not keep such grave secrets from one another. My trust is a fragile thing.”
You sigh, defeated. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
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hilsoncrater · 5 months
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the levels of repression in both house and wilson…yet they are opposite of one another. house routinely makes gay innuendos (whether sexual and/or romantic) towards wilson, yet wilson doesn’t take him serious at all.
and this constant rejection from wilson is both a buoy as well as a giant wall. house pushes their relationship time and time again. wilson refuses to let the nature of it change. house brings up a romantic getaway, wilson shoots him down. house sabotages wilson moving out, wilson doesn’t stay. house allows himself to be The Other Woman regardless of how bonnie or wilson’s other ex-wives feel. in a way, it boosts his ego and makes him feel special. he is allowed to have wilson in this way.
amber is an extension of house; she is house in a woman’s body. house can accept it because he has expressed before that if wilson were a woman, they would’ve been married already. so why can’t the same be true for wilson? let him find a woman version of house. house loves wilson so much that he goes into a risky surgery to try and save amber. this is his Place simply because wilson and him cannot escape the confines of compulsive heterosexuality.
and it is compulsive. wilson never feels good enough or secure enough in a relationship outside of his and house’s. he cheats, he lies, he manipulates. all because at his core, wilson’s insecurities render him into a selfish person. he has affairs and he prioritizes house over his wives, because he doesn’t feel like his own wants/needs are met by his wives. or that they should/deserve to be met. he doesn’t know how to communicate them!! he maybe even feels guilty for having them. because even to house, he communicates these desires in metaphors or pranks or whatever other indirect way he sees fit. but the difference between house and his wives is that wilson has no tangible, legal sense of obligation to house. if house doesn’t meet his expressed needs, fuck him!! they don’t owe anything to each other!! the rejection will sting less.
wilson chases women on such a compulsive level that it’s nearly a reaction to whatever house has done. it’s affair after affair. wilson moves in with his patient during the time house is on a ketamine treatment. house, his patient who seemingly no longer needs vicodin. no longer needs him. if wilson is no longer needed, he parasites to the next host. why? because he doesn’t know who he is on his own. why? because he has trouble expressing his own core needs as a person. and as a result, these core (repressed) needs seep out sideways.
so why threaten this sense of safety he gets with keeping house at a platonic level? if they were to entangle into a relationship, wilson would be wrapped under an Obligation Gauze. there is a fear he’d lose house because, historically, all of his relationships end in loss. because, historically, he cannot express his needs to his partners due to his fear of rejection.
and then wilson becomes terminal. and then death becomes bigger than an anxious fear of loss/rejection.
“i need you to tell me that you love me.”
wilson, my brother in christ. house cannot say those words to you because for all the years you’ve known him, you’ve denied him it. the only way house can tell you that he loves you is by burning his home down and faking his death. he is nothing without you. you know it as well as he does. these things remain unspoken because that is the way you’ve molded the relationship to be.
wilson has house on a leash. house runs as far out as possible until the leash yanks him back. when wilson finally trusts house enough to let him go off-leash, house is too conditioned to act as expected.
and this conditioning in house is not just wilson’s doing. it’s primarily house’s own doing. his own self-loathing chains him to wilson’s side. as an addict, yes, but also as a support system. house hates himself so viscerally that it affects every interpersonal relationship he has, including with wilson. but wilson never, ever leaves no matter how bad it gets.
also. who else other than wilson gives him a sense of bodily autonomy? not stacy, not cuddy, not his fellows. wilson doesn’t pity him. wilson enables him. wilson lies for him. house will selfishly keep wilson forever because wilson is all he reliably has.
so house can push and prod wilson into gay romantic/sexual innuendos, but when wilson yanks that leash, he’ll drop it. it’s a buoy for reality checking where he is with wilson. it’s a giant wall for enabling his self-hatred thought process that even his boy best friend has limitations to his love for him (or at least what is acceptable). addict line of thinking.
they both eat each other up like an ouroboros. where does wilson’s repression end and house’s begin?
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bellatrixscurls · 3 months
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games you play | eddie munson
the prelude; the consequences of being late to class... a class that you share with eddie munson and that he, as a matter of fact, has failed.
a/n : i am using this little thing as an introduction to my fic, i will be posting the first chapter as soon as i can. <3
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“Billy- Billy, I’m gonna be late” you try to reason with him, but he keeps peppering you with kisses, making you squirm under his body. “Come on, you- fuck- You know how O’Donnell gets.”
You hear Billy sigh, and you do too when he releases you. You miss his kisses already, but you simply cannot be late to miss O’Donnell’s class.
His blue eyes look into your own adoringly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Fine, but you owe me. Tonight?”
You can’t say no when he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. And truth is, you don’t want to.
“Bet” you giggle, causing a chuckle to escape your boyfriend’s mouth too as he curls a finger under your chin, pecking your lips once, twice and three times before finally letting you go.
You get out of his arms before he can catch you again, and rush up the stairs towards your class. When you finally reach the door, you open it and a more than familiar face greets you.
“Look who has decided to join us. Meredith, I didn’t expect it from you” she shakes her head at you, and your eyes widen.
8:03 am. Shit.
“I am so sorry─” “No need. Just- Don’t let it happen again” she gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the only empty seat left.
You nod and rush towards your seat, placing your books on the desk.
“As I was saying prior to being interrupted” she emphasises and you sink in your seat, “You will be working in pairs for this assignment. It is rather complex, otherwise I would have never let you.”
Tammy raises her hand, and the teacher gives her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “Can I work with Steve?” she asks excitedly, and you snort when the aforementioned boy gives you a horrified look.
“Not exactly, miss Thompson. I would rather you work with your desk mates. It should be a fifty-fifty type of project” she eyes her suspiciously, but decides to let it go as she starts explaining about said project.
You don’t even realise who is sitting beside you, until you notice Steve is giving you a shit eating grin, looking over your shoulder.
“So, you and Harrington think you are too good for us, remains of society, right?” you turn to your right, only to find Eddie Munson, the freak, toying with his pen.
You look at him, confused. He remains unimpressed as he glances at you for merely a second. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
It is his turn to snort, rolling his eyes, but still avoiding eye contact as he looks forward. “Oh, please. Tammy, and now me, all in under ten seconds. I’m impressed.”
You remain silent for a second, before shaking out of your thoughts. “We don’t normally─”
“Oh, trust me, I know” he hums. “You should have come sooner, though, if you wanted to work with one of them... Oh! But wait, Hargrove had his tongue down your throat and now you are stuck with me” Eddie’s face spreads into a wide grin when he sees the shocked expression on your face.
You lean back against your chair and stay quiet for the rest of the class. And when it’s finally over, Eddie gathers his books, not leaving before he looks over at you. “Five pm, my place.”
“Are you saying the freak made fun of you and you didn’t say anything back?” Steve laughs at you, as you both gather your things to leave for the day.
You give him an unamused smile, and he holds his hands up in the air. “I’m just saying, Mer. That was unnecessarily rude. Tell Hargrove that and he will─”
“Shut it!” you shush him, cupping Steve’s mouth and he licks it. “Idiot!” you slap him on the back of his head and he laughs out loud, opening the door to his car so you can get in.
Five pm rolls around and you are already at the trailer park. You don’t really know which one is Eddie’s, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you hear a door being slammed open, and see a head of curls popping out. “Come in, then, princess” he steps aside, and you step inside the trailer.
It’s cute, actually. It is a bit small, indeed. But it looks nice and as clean as Eddie Munson can keep it, knowing his chaotic personality.
“Yeah, it’s not your palace, but it does the job” he snorts ironically when he sees you look around.
“Your place is nice” your eyes meet for a second, before he looks away. “Let’s go to my room” he instructs, hand at the small of your back, but barely touching you as he guides you inside his room, closing the door behind him.
His bed is a bit messy, papers are thrown around the room, but, somehow, it looks cosy. “So- the project. What do you want to start with?”
His eyes snap to yours in a moment. “Yeah so, I don’t know if you figured, but I failed this class last year.”
You hum, unzipping your backpack. You do know. “Of course. I can help you, if you want.”
Eddie huffs, throwing his hands in the air and you look at him surprised. “Okay, what the fuck is this game you’re trying to play?”
“Sorry?”
“You trying to help me, complimenting my house” he squints at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You look at him utterly confused. His words make you take a step back, Eddie has always intimidated you and his snarky comment made the things even worse for you.
Seeing the annoyed expression on his face, you decide to speak up. “I just- I am good at Chemistry so I just figured, you know...”
He thinks for a second, and you can see his face soften for a minute. You exhale.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
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fanofseabassanddorito · 4 months
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Dear Chris Evans,
I’ve waited and watched. I’ve gone back and forth with Real vs PR. I’m just a fan, of your work, but I also because of what you seemed to stand for and acted like a real person. I think I’m done now.
There has been questionable ‘sightings’ even though you claim to want to be private. Your friends and hers have posted the two of you. You have posted her twice yourself. But then you seem to hide her. That isn’t a good look. If you are in love with someone, you don’t hide them because you want to be private yet leak photos and hints to keep your fans spiraling when you know how some can be.
We all know celebrities use social media for what they WANT fans to see. Why? Because they want privacy, as they should, to separate their work world from real life. I completely agree with doing so, BUT I don’t agree with going back and forth. You owe fans nothing except maybe the respect that goes both ways. After all, your fans have been the reason you have your paychecks. I think we deserve a little bit of respect not to be played by what you say in interviews vs. what you show yourself to be through your actions.
There are so many examples of couples being private but NOT hiding significant others like they are embarrassed to be seen. A real private couple does things together but do not post montages on their socials, like scare videos and couples pictures. People do not call paparazzi unless they want to be seen. A real private couple does still go to things together, they don’t hide but they don’t bring attention to themselves. Real private couples do not let things drop during a special date for something else. One example, the NYC pap walk on the day that Warrior Nun season 2 dropped right after SMA.
Tabloids run on things they are given. There have been more articles about you and this girl than Harry and Meghan, Jennifer and Ben, etc., etc., etc. your reps have never confirmed anything. IMDb does not list her as your wife. Your mother liked a tweet about the girl being racist.
I had no issues at first, thinking you wanted privacy, which I thought was a great idea, given your fandom. I gave you the benefit of the doubt for a good while. But then it seemed like her friends and yours, her mom, along with the likes on IG, proved this isn’t private. Certain social media sites have been the only ones to randomly get these pictures that are nowhere to be found. It’s only a few, and they usually come at specific times when there is doubt. Friends posted from Lisbon, Avengers in MA, and the wedding rumors began. I’m sorry, but when there is an NDA, then the wedding news should not have leaked because the NDA would cover that. And if you have to ask people to turn in their phones to attend, that’s rude and you’ve invited people you don’t trust.
Showing up to a convention, with a ring on but you can’t say her name. Just ‘Go Portugal!’ And then go on about Dodger.
Let’s not even get into photoshopped or not photoshopped because I don’t even know anymore.
I could go on and on but it saddens me. I cannot be a fan of someone just because of their projects, and that’s just me. I have kept quiet, because it’s none of my business what you do with your life. What is my business though, is who I give my hard earned money to. Barely getting by on what I make, medications and food for my kids continue to rise in cost, but they also enjoy Captain America because he seemed like a good guy in real life too. Now they come to me with things they’ve seen online like Captain America’s new wife nude in the shower. They have seen people posting about her friends and their previous tweets, and things they’ve said. Why? Because you have played games with your fandom and they got pissed and exposed things. Let’s be honest, kids get online and see things even if they aren’t supposed to. Luckily they didn’t see your ‘slip’ up, because your fans cleaned that for you quickly, but the shower pictures continue to be passed around. They also said in some of the pictures they saw you post that they thought you had a daughter but found out it was your girlfriend.
I would make sure you don’t have any more slip ups because I feel like your fans are limited at this point. The ones that see your work the day it comes out. That’s one reason why Ghosted flopped. Before this, your fans would have said you did wonderful even if you didn’t.
After the new picture of the two of you at the Globes after party, I CHOOSE to not be a fan and hand you my money. I know it isn’t much, but I will choose to spend it on a different movie or person at a convention. Maybe I just won’t have a favorite anymore because it seems like a lot just tell fans what they want to hear.
I don’t know if it’s Real or PR and don’t care but it’s the game you seem to be playing that I don’t like. I don’t care what people think of my opinion and have not posted anything about a side. I just know you look like such a hypocrite and lose fans by the hour now. So many blogs and pages that are team PR or Team Real and they argue over who is right and wrong, because you and everyone around you are playing with them. You are using them for free publicity and that is sickening. I didn’t believe it was happening and you were just trying to protect your love life. But, eventually, it was just so obvious with the tiniest bit of things creeping in on the same sites and coincidences on dates. Mostly, I just don’t want to watch all the drama that has become part of being your fan. I like to escape the real world by looking at my favorite celebrities and what they are up to or their movies etc. I don’t want to see the gross mess you have become. She looks like your daughter, so I choose to leave. You don’t know me or care because I’m just one fan, but I do know who you want people to see you as now and I don’t like this version. Be private or just don’t hide. Look happy, not miserable. Treat her like your love and wife, because I would never allow my boyfriend/husband treat me the way it appears you are treating her. To the public, she looks like a mail order bride that jumps as soon as you tell her too. It’s gross.
So, it’s been a long, fun ride being your fan until now. Enjoy traveling back and forth and wear sunscreen to the beach, because boy are you white. Research the word ‘privacy’ and maybe get those NDA’s to the people leaking things if you want privacy or take their phones from them when they are in your proximity. Invest in energy drinks next, she’s a lot younger and likes to travel and have sex (maybe check out her soft porn). Let Buddah know she did a film with a demon having sex with her. Maybe purchase a plane and get a pilots license, because older dogs don’t travel as well as they age and that’s a long ride to Portugal. Remind your wife to keep her clothes on and keep your 🍆 in your pants because I think Team Real is even over this mess and don’t want to see it. Thanks for the laughs and smiles over the years. I wish you luck and hope you’re happier than you actually look.
Sincerely,
An Ex-Fan of Christopher Robert Evans
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straykids-97 · 7 months
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Soft?
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“Soft? I’m too soft?”
Warnings: Reader confides in Felix, relationship woes, mentions of drinking and parties, soft!dom Chan, sub!reader, dirty texting, slight exhibitionism, pet names (goddess, baby etc.), unprotected sex, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING
Word Count: 5.2k
AN: This was only read through once, so please bear with me. It probably has errors and as I am half awake, the end seems a little rushed to me. Anyway, enjoy you filthy sluts :) I also don't put a warning for minors on my stuff bc I feel like it's obvious that minors should not be reading this stuff, but I cannot do anything about that... HOWEVER I am for this one. Reader's discretion is advised and encouraged. There are mature themes in this fic so please, do not read if you a triggered by rough things!
You shift and lay your chin on your forearm as you stare out the window covered in raindrops. You heave a sigh as you watch traffic drive past, waiting for your dear friend Felix to come back with his drink. The Cafe wasn’t very full, but then again, it was the afternoon, and it was normally full in the morning or early evening. You two always hung out at the Cafe- Felix always joked that this was the only place where he could talk to you without one of his bandmates interrupting or eavesdropping. He could tell that something was weighing on you heavily, so he decided to take you to the one place that could be just for the two of you. 
“Ah,” he announces his arrival with a satisfied sigh, sliding into the booth in front of you. You sit up slightly, adjusting your posture when he settles. “This is the best place for an americano.” He snorts and takes a sip, “Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?” You shake your head, “Felix, you know I hate coffee.” He smiles, nodding his head, “Yeah. I know, but I thought I would try one more time.” Felix offers you a soft, lopsided smile as he leans forward, “Are you gonna come clean, or am I gonna have to torture you?” You grin at him, waving your hand at him. “No.” You lament, leaning back in the booth seat. “You don’t have to go to that length. I’ll just come clean.” He offers you a teasing smile, “Good, cuz I sorta forgot them at home.” He shrugs, “I thought you would come clean anyway…” He trails off for a moment, before dropping the question, “So… What’s wrong with you? You’ve been kinda acting-” 
“Distant?” You give him a sheepish smile before shrugging one of your shoulders. “Yeah, I know… I just… I don’t know if Chris… Likes me… Ya know?” You pick at your fingernail polish, fidgeting to try and distract you from the lump in your throat. Felix didn’t speak for a while, probably unsure of what to say. Of course, Chris liked you- he loved you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. Felix was more confused as to the why, more than anything. 
He cleared his throat, “Well… What makes you say that?” He shifts awkwardly in his seat, unsure of how to navigate this very unfamiliar territory. Chris was like the brother he never had, and you the sister he always wanted, so the fact that you were presenting a possible relationship problem, something he didn’t have much knowledge in, was something he didn’t know if he could steer accurately. 
“Well, for starters, he’s super against PDA, ya know. And I understand that-” you hold your hand up in defense before going on, “I do. He doesn’t want someone to capture a picture of me before the company is ready for us to come out as a couple officially and all that.” You sigh, “But… He just acts…” You puff out your cheeks, unsure of how to explain your frustrations to Felix. “So… Nice?” Felix frowns at your words, “Nice? Isn’t that a good thing?” You sigh, holding your head in your hands, feeling your skin turning bright red. “Oh my goodness, I don’t even know how to explain this to you- I shouldn’t. It feels like I’m confessing a filthy sin to a pure nun.” He laughs at your analogy, “What are you talking about? Y/n, I’m your friend. I knew you before Chris, if anything, you owe me an explanation for him making you feel this way. Cuz I’ll talk to him if I have to-” Your head snaps up and Felix stops talking when he sees your beat red face. His mouth parted slightly, “Y/n, what- why are you so red?” He chuckled at your face and reached across the table to pinch your cheek teasingly. You bat his hand away, “He doesn’t like… Ask for anything… I feel like if I initiate it… It’ll feel like I’m begging or something…” You trail off and it suddenly hits Felix like a tsunami, “You haven’t had sex yet?” His voice drops to barely a whisper. Your face turns even redder, “Felix!” You hiss at him, “Lower your voice!” He tosses a quick look over his shoulder, “You and I both know, the barista should be retired right now. We’re lucky if he wore his hearing aid’s today.” You slap his forearm, “Lee Felix!” He beamed at you, “What? I had to repeat my order a million times.” He rolled his dark orbs before leaning back into the conversation, “How have you guys gone almost a year and not fucked?” You want to cover your ears but you can’t. This was the conversation you had planned to have anyway, but you just weren’t mentally prepared to hear someone so sweet and kind like Felix talk like that. 
“Well, you guys were gone for the tour, and then you had to travel to promote the album so Chris and I spent the beginning of our relationship over the phone.” Felix bobbed his head, “Yeah… But that leaves like, five months unaccounted for.” You sigh, “Yeah… I know… I figured, ya know, the distance and time spent away would spark something…” Felix has completely forgotten about his coffee and is utterly consumed by this new information. “But, he just acts so sweet, like usual, so kind and caring… The second I want to do something, then he’s on it. No dragging his feet, offering to do things like going on dates and stuff but…” 
“He’s leaving you hanging?” You groan, “Sorta? I hate to be like, ‘All this stuff is great but when do we start banging?’ Cuz then I feel like that’s all I see him as and I don’t ya know? I feel like if he wants to, he’d tell me or try to ya know, at least grope me.” You whisper the word like God would come down to smite you if anyone heard it. Felix looks perplexed, that much was clear by the look of confusion on his face. “What?” Felix does another scope of the Cafe before leaning to speak, “Are we talking about the same Christopher Bang?” I snort, “Of course we are-”
“That man is always…” He raises his eyebrows, suggesting something. “Frustrated?” You snort at him trying to be coy, “Yeah, sure you can say that… Maybe you’re the reason it seems to be worse these days.” He grabs his coffee, taking a few sips before going on. “He doesn’t even try to pat your bum?” You blush slightly, “No.” You shake your head and peek over your shoulder at the middle-aged man who is staring at his computer very intently, a pair of headphones humming with the beat of a tune you didn’t know. 
“He just acts so… cautious. Like I’m a piece of paper or glass he doesn’t want to break.” Felix bobs his head. “Have you tried to ya know-” 
“Yes!” You hiss, your cheeks burning red. Felix blushes slightly at your frustration, the conversation you two were having wasn’t one to be talked over coffee in a cafe either. “Ok… Well, why don’t you talk to him?” You groan, holding your head in your hands, “And make him feel ashamed? No thanks, I’d rather dig myself a whole and cover up for eternity.”  You huff, “I’m hoping that maybe he brings it up.” You watch Felix shrug, “If he doesn’t, we’ll be having this conversation again next time.” 
***
The black off-the-shoulder dress you chose to wear tonight hugged your curves just right. It exposed just enough but covered equally just as much. The small diamond necklace on your neck was a gift from Chris, a random one, which you were used to. But, since you were too nervous to wear it every day like he wanted you to, you decided to wear it for the occasion. They were celebrating a very big award win with staff and friends. Chris guides you through the throng of people to an area designated for the boys and close friends. Chris pauses slightly, his fingertips on your elbow, “Are you alright? I know how you feel about crowds.” His sweetness never seems to melt you, even now. You smile up at him and you can feel heat crawl up the back of your neck, your heart squeezing in your chest. “Yes. I’m ok. This was part of the deal, remember?” He smiles down at you, giving you one of those earth-shattering, blindingly sweet smiles of his that he’s known for. “And what would that be?” He asks, pulling you in by the waist. You feel your pulse throb in your veins as a small gasp escapes your lips and you bounce off his chest. Chris didn’t do PDA. “Uh- um, the parties, the cameras, all that stuff.” You wave your hand and lightly tap his chest, unsure of what to do with your hands. He smiles at you, “All that stuff?” He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “What would I be without you?” He murmured, making you giggle and pull away slightly, “Perfectly fine.” You remind him, causing him to roll his eyes, “Fine. But dull.” He admits with a shrug, pulling away and offering his palm to you as you walk toward where Felix and the boys are sitting playing what looks like a card game with jax and random little balls. 
You settle beside Minho, who gives you a playful nudge. Chris sits by Felix and Hyunjin, who look to be in a heated debate about something, which is why you decided to sit by Minho. Seungmin, Minho, Changbin, and I.N., were all in the midst of the game when you settled into the couch. You watch them for a while, trying to follow the game but getting confused by all the complicated rules that it has. You sigh and lean back into the couch, tossing a look to see that Hyunjin had left to sit by Changbin, watching the game as well. Felix and Chris seemed to be deep in conversation, but Chris’s eyes were on you. You watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes for a millisecond, and you know what that means, he is annoyed by something. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, typing a message to him really quickly. 
Are you ok?
You know he gets the message, but he ignores it. Instead, he turned his attention back to Felix who looked as if he may have had one too many to drink. You take a breath in and it catches in your throat when you realize that Felix gets a little too chatty when he gets drunk. And that it had been almost two weeks since you had talked to him about the lack of sex in your relationship. Panic sets in as you slowly turn your face to Felix and Chris. Felix was still talking, sipping on water now; Chris probably made him start drinking water out of fear of what else he would say. You watch as Felix leans forward to eat what looks like pretzels, and Chris takes that moment to pull his phone out of his slacks to see what you have sent him. You watch with mixed emotions as Chris’s jaw flexes and unflexes, his eyes and face illuminated by the darkened screen of his phone. You knew that Chris didn’t like having his phone out while at a function but he couldn’t seem to help himself this time. You watch as his fingers dance across the screen and you immediately stare at your screen, waiting for his reply. Your heart nearly falls out of your colon when it does. 
Felix has loose lips when he consumes alcohol… Care to share?
As soon as you look back up to him, you pray that the couch will open up and swallow you whole. Anything to escape the way that Chris glares at you. You do a double take, unsure if you should look at your phone or at Chris. Finally, your brain synapses start working once again enough for you to form a reply. 
What did he tell you?
He doesn’t offer you the same courtesy of delaying a reply. And you watch with bated breath as he messages you back so fast that it might as well have been said. 
What do you think he told me, goddess? 
Your breath almost comes out in a squeal. Chris called you Goddess when he was teasing you once. A name that he has mentioned in passing a few times because of the topic of him heckling you about being a muse to him. You told him it made you feel like you were in a Greek story about heroes and villains. So then came the nickname Goddess, because in his words, “Goddess are cooler than muses.” 
You try not to shake as you stare at your phone, trying to keep your mouth closed but failing as your eyes gawk at the screen. Before your brain can form another coherent thought, he sends another reply. 
Do you think I’m too soft?
You feel your soul leave your body, and heat rushes through your body. But not the embarrassed kind. You squeeze your legs together and toss a quick glance around to the boys who were all oblivious to what was going on between you and Chris only a few feet away. 
As your eyes land on Changbin you are talking a little too loud, and slurring so much that he is about to start drooling if he doesn’t slow down. Han hands him a tissue from beside Minho, “Rapper down!” You can’t help but smile as Changbin snags the tissue from Han, fluttering it in the wind. None of the boys waste a second to mimic a damsel in distress, I.N. holds his cheek, fluttering his eyes, “Oh no, I’m drooling! Someone save me!” Changbin puffs out his chest and starts to say something, but the buzzing of your phone causes you to become distracted by the boys teasing Changbin. 
Eyes on me baby. I’m not done talking to you. 
Your eyes almost fall out of their sockets. What has gotten into him? He never talks to you like this. Not even when you guys get into a heated makeout session. You slowly raise your gaze back to Chris, who smirks at you. Smirks. Fucking smirks. You watch as his eyes lower to his screen for just a moment to type out another reply. 
I’ll show you what you’ve been missing then, baby.
You gulp, your stomach doing somersaults as you watch him shift slightly. Chris swipes his dark beverage off the table in front of him, swirling it a few times before looking at you over the rim. His forefinger rubs the rim, and you can’t help but think that he’s trying to work you up. It was working. A heated pulse thrums through your body to your core, causing you to cross your legs for friction. You feel a faint sheen of sweat start to form, and the room seems a little too loud and the people all seem to disappear as he focuses his dark irises back on your face. You watch as he swipes his tongue over this bottom lip before taking a swig of his dark alcohol. With one hand, he types a reply. 
Take your panties off. Bring them to me. 
You blink a few times; rereading those two sentences over and over again. Your brain didn’t seem to process what it was reading. That or it was short-circuiting. Either way, your brain was not functioning properly. You glance around, before typing a quick reply. 
Here? With everyone around? 
You glance up to see Chris looking down at his phone. His forefinger was playing with his bottom lip, the rest of his fingers holding the small bourbon glass as he messages you back. The phone vibrates and your eyes read the message before your brain can process what it's reading. Once it sets in, you swear you’re about to faint. Ever since you met Chris all those months ago, nothing could have prepared you for this moment. To read the text that flickered across your screen… 
You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself. 
You sit there, dumbfounded and you aren’t sure what to do. You were surrounded by a mixture of friends and strangers, and what he was demanding of you… Was something straight of an E.L. James novel. 
You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself. 
You huff out a sigh, flopping back onto the couch. How the hell were you going to somehow, manage to shimmy out of your panties in front of 7 other men? They might be drinking and some close to drunk, but they weren’t stupid. They’d know what you were doing by the time your dark silk panties hit your knees. You glance at the phone in your palm, shaking your head. You don’t have to do this- Chris was just drinking and feeling frisky. But, you can’t help but bite your lip slightly at the thought of what you would do if you somehow managed to get them off. What would you do once they were off? Your face pales and you turn to look at Chris a few feet away. 
Chris’s dark eyes seemed to be ignited with something you hadn’t seen in them before. 
Power. Authority. Desire. Dominance. 
You can’t conceal the shudder that runs down your spine as he tilts his chin up at you, gesturing to your phone with his eyes. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even realize that he had messaged you again. 
You have five minutes to have them in the palm of my hand.
Your eyes bulge and you choke slightly on your spit. Five minutes? Only Five minutes? It was going to take at least that to get them passed your hips. Your brain was kicking into high gear for the first time since you had sat down, “Fuck.” You hiss to yourself. Time was ticking, and you had to get moving because you didn’t want to find out what was going to happen if you didn’t do as he said. You put your phone into your purse and begin to shift your silk panties, which were hard to feel through your dress, down to your thighs. It was surprisingly easier than expected but now came that part that you were unsure of. 
How to get them over your bare thighs, knees, and to your ankles without anyone noticing. You take a brief look around, looking twice, three times before taking a deep breath and shoving your dark silk panties to your ankles and swiping them off your ankles. You managed to get them into a wad in your left fist before Minho leaned over to see what you were doing. “Y/n-ssi, what’s wrong?” You giggle, “Oh, I think there’s a hair or something on my leg.” You have your empty hand at him. “I think I got it.” You watch as he smiles at you softly, “Ok.” He turns part way, before turning back, “On your leg?” Your face falls for a split second. He wasn’t as drunk as the others, and you didn’t calculate that. “Well, I’m not sure what it was. I honestly felt like a bug.” You come up with a lie on the spot, kicking yourself for not thinking that Minho hadn’t really drunk at all since you had arrived. He nods his head, “I hope not. I hate bugs.” You nod, “Me too…” You trail off, glancing over to Chris who looked amused by the interaction. You feel a blush creep up your neck when you see that he watched Minho catch you with your panties around your ankles. 
Damn him.
“I think I’m gonna go sit by Chan.” You smile and collect your bag before crossing over to the boys’s game, earning a few groans and slaps on the arm as you pass. You wave them all off and make your way to Chris, who sets his glass aside as you approach him. You almost, almost sneakily slide him into your panties. But instead, you stand there, knees almost touching his as he stares up at you expectingly. “Do you have something for me, Y/n?” He asks, his voice dripping with false sweetness. As if this man wasn’t trying to make you melt from the inside out. You clasp your hands in front of you, “I might…” you trail off, meeting his gaze. You watch as he raises a single arched eyebrow and you remind yourself to find out who did his makeup because damn them. 
It takes everything in your every molecule to not shift under his stare. But still, he waits. After a few moments, he picks up on what you’re meaning and slowly raises his hand to you, palm up. It was high enough for the boys to see if they were watching close enough, for anyone who was looking your way to see that you were putting something in his hand. It didn’t take much of a rocket scientist to put two and two together and figure out what was happening. 
You stretch out your hand and put your black satin panties in his large hand before sinking to the seat next to him. 
“Happy?” You grumble, eyes on the boys who were all too focused on the second round of their game. “Elated.” He replied back, crossing his leg and spreading out your panties on his thigh. You gasp, “Chris-” You start to hiss but stop when you realize his OCD ass was really folding your panties in a small square. You watch as he replaces his breast pocket handkerchief with your panties. He smoothes a hand over his chest as he twists his body to you, dangling his handkerchief by your face, “I think we’ll be needing this.” You frown at his words, “Why?” 
He grins, face falling for a moment as he wads it up in his fist. What was he about to do- “Are you ok, y/n?” He puts a hand on your forearm. “Is it getting too loud?” You don’t have to look at the boys to know that they’re all watching you now. The boys all knew what crowds did to your tiny little introverted soul. “Y/n? Are you ok?” Felix finally started to sober up a little enough to not be slurring. You gulp, shrugging, “It’s getting a little warm.” You admit, truthfully. “I think I might be getting a headache.” 
“I’ll take you outside, yeah? Maybe some quiet and fresh air would help?” You ruefully nod. Chris helps you to your feet like the dutiful boyfriend he is, holding your hand as he guides you skillfully outside of the small gathering. You started to shiver and you weren’t sure if it was excitement or what it was really but adrenaline was coursing through your veins regardless. 
You were panting as Chris pulled you into a small alcove right outside the party. It was dark and hidden and no one would see either of you unless they got within a few feet of you. Chris pushed you flat against the wall, his breath on your face as you stared up at him with wide eyes, “Too soft?” He growled, wrapping a hand around your jaw. “Baby, I am greedy when it comes to you.” His voice is so low that it feels like it’s rattling your soul. “I want everything you give me- I want more than you give me.” His lips crush on yours. It wasn’t the usual sweet kiss, no. This was hot, heavy and fuck it felt amazing. You mewl and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you feel his hands grip your thighs. He pauses only for a moment, pulling that light-colored handkerchief out that was in his pocket. 
“If this come back wet,” he leans in, his tongue dancing on the bottom of your lip, “then we’re leaving.” Your breathing was ragged and your mind was already fuzzy. “Holy shit-” You gasp, gripping his forearm as he chuckled. It sounded like thick molasses. 
This Chris was someone you had never met before. And fuck, no wonder he kept him hidden. If he was out running around you probably wouldn’t be walking or a functioning member of society. 
You feel his fingers delve into your folds and a heavy shudder rips through your body. “Oh my god-” You hiccup, eyes rolling back into your head as Chris rubs soft, quick circles around your clit. He doesn’t go any further, the teasing bastard. And to no one's shock, when he stepped back into the hallway, the fingertips that were covered by the fabric were darkened by your slick. You gulp as his eyes slowly raise to you, “I suppose we have our answer then.” 
***
Chris didn’t even wait for you to get through the doorway of your apartment before his hands were on you. He didn’t move to take your clothes off, no. He just grabbed, groped, ripped at your body like a hungry man who was so starved of food that he was threatening to eat you. You wrap your hands in his locks as he picks you up by the waist, shuffling you back to the hallway, stumbling slightly. You squeal and he laughs into your lips as he digs his fingertips into your thigh skin, “Whoops.” 
He manages to get you both into your room before he puts you back on your feet. You blink up at him to see his puffy lips even more swollen from kissing so hard that your teeth were gnashing together. Chris’s white dress shirt was rumbled, but otherwise intact. He took off his jacket in the car and left it there. He wasn’t really interested in it currently. “Don’t move.” He ordered. His tone was low, full of authority. You stand there as still as a statue as he shifts to walk around you in a slow circle. 
Chris stands directly behind you, “I want you to take your dress off for me.” You inhale sharply. “Like… Strip?” You hear him chuckle before you feel his hand dance up your shoulder to your throat, “Yes.” He lightly squeezes your throat before letting you go. You turn to look over your shoulder to Chris who was moving to sit on the shoe ottoman at the foot of your bed, legs spread as he settled. You moan softly to yourself and turn to look at him. 
You slowly reach to your shoulders, tugging at the fabric of your dress. You pause for only a moment when it dawns on you that you’ve never been bare in front of Chris before. “Don’t worry goddess.” He laughs softly, “I’ve been dreaming of this day ever since we went to the park and you wore a skirt.” That was before their tour. 
“You’ve been holding off that long?” You ask, almost dropping your hands. “Baby, I don’t like to be gentle all the time… I wasn’t sure if that was what you liked, so I was testing the waters gently. I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want.” You gulp, figuring that was a conversation for another time. 
The burning in your gut and between your thighs was what was most important right now. 
You take a deep breath and push the fabric down to your waist, exposing your bare chest to Chris before shimming the fabric the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare to him. You slowly raise your gaze to him to find that he was staring at you so hard that you thought perhaps he was trying to catch you on fire. You almost reach down to put the dress back on but the noise Chris made almost made you fold. 
He made a strange mix of a moan and a feral growl. “Jesus fucking christ.” He groans, “Come here.” He almost barks. You don’t wait and he has you pulled into his lap. It takes no time for him to, quite literally, rip the buttons off his shirt and pants to get him bare as well. 
“I would say we should do foreplay, but you’re wet enough for the entire night.” He teases, his teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. You groan, “Chris-” you start to complain but stop as you feel his cock at your entrance. You both moan, and he pants raggedly, obviously struggling. “Baby- I’m trying so hard-” 
“I’m not glass.” You snap, digging your nails into his biceps, “Quit being a pussy and just-” Before you can get the rest out he thrust into you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you. He wastes no time wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing it. “Do not say things that you can’t take back, y/n.” The way he spoke made a shudder rip through your body so violently that you thought it would tear you apart. 
Chris pulls out ever so slowly and then drives back into you, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths. This was so good- fuck, better than you ever could have expected. 
Just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, his free hand adjusts the angle of your hips and he starts to fuck you hard and fast. You both become a mixture of animalistic grunts, moans, and whimpers as he fucks you so thoroughly that you debated thanking Felix in the morning. 
You felt yourself spiraling toward a third orgasm as Chris moaned, “Fuck-baby- one more, please.” He whimpers, letting go of your throat and holding your hip along with the other hand. You could come at the sight of him whimpering for you, fucked out of his mind, drunk on you, and holding your hips as he fucks you like he hates you. Your eyes roll as your back arches off the mattress, your toes curling and your hands flying down to grip his wrists. “Chirs!” You nearly scream as he slams into you a few more times before frantically pushing away from you, coming all over your thighs and lower stomach. 
He sits there, staring at his mess and panting for a moment, before slumping into your body. “Why did I wait?” He scoffed, talking mostly to himself. “Felix and I were talking about that very same thing.” You snort sleepily as you run your fingers down his clammy spine. He sighs, “No- I mean, why didn’t I just say something? I could have been easing you into this so you won’t be so sore in the morning-” 
“If I’m sore,” you interrupt, pulling his face up to look into his eyes. “That just means that you did a good job.” He grins at you sleepily, holding himself up just enough to give you a few sweet, passionate kisses before pushing away, so that his chain necklace dangled just above your chin, “I would say let’s go have a shower. But, I’m tired. You’re tired. The shower isn’t going anywhere. And if I have my way, taking a shower would just be wasting water because we’ll need it again.” He winks, before flopping down beside you and pulling you into his side. 
Perhaps, talking to Felix was a good thing. 
Now, if only you could get it into Felix’s little thought process about the choking part…
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its-time-to-write · 9 months
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Final one for today
This one is a little odder but I feel like a single parent story would be great for Jamie
Like maybe reader is a single parent and is out in the park where the child is playing alone with a football (maybe trying to do some tricks) and accidentally kicks it to far and it hits Jamie (Who maybe is jogging by) jamie brings it over and does some tricks and the kid is like omg can you show me how to do that! reader is like embarrassed but Jamie is like sure so they spend a bunch of time playing football. The kid is a fan of Richmond but tickets are expensive so Jamie invites them to a game (Free) and they get to meet the team and it becomes a regular thing
Jamie is trying to work up the nerve to ask out Reader (He has never dated someone with kids before) and he doesn't want to mess up the relationship finally the child is like please ask my parent out!
I can't wait to see what you do with these!!
Here’s another one that I’ve been sitting on forever! Finally got around to it. And in case you couldn’t tell, I freakin love Keeley Jones. I think she’s great. Enjoy!
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if only love were true
Thank god that Keeley Jones is your friend and she promised you’d never have to go stag to a work function.
“Keeley,” you say over the phone, “I need you to be my date for this fancy dinner/gala/thing I have for work next Sunday. I absolutely cannot go alone.”
“Next Sunday?” she says. “Let me check my calendar.”
You wait a moment as she presumably scrolls through her phone, checking her availability.
“Sorry babes,” she says after a long moment, “I’ve got a work thing too. Otherwise I’d totally be down to go as your hot trophy date.”
You groan. “Is there any way you can get out of it? Out of all the things I’ve taken you to, this is the one I need you at the most.” 
Keeley’s silent. You can tell she’s thinking. She knows why this one is important.
“Alright,” she says finally. “I can’t go, but what if I sent you with a friend of mine?” She continues loudly over your beginning protests. “He’s really sweet and fit and funny, and he owes me favors pretty much for the rest of his life. You’d have a great time I SWEAR.”
“I don’t know,” you say. “Do you think he can go along with everything? There’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be a shitshow.”
“Absolutely,” Keeley replies without hesitation. “He’s fucking great. Can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but he’s learned how to use those skills for the greater good.”
“Uh huh,” you say. “Right. I’m trusting you on this one, Keels. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll take him. But I really, really need this to be good.”
“Trust me,” she says, “You won’t regret it.”
Jamie Tartt arrives at your doorstep, fully briefed by Keeley as to his responsibilities. 
Be a gentleman, make her laugh, don’t fucking leave her with Harry.
Keeley showed him pictures of Harry’s instagram so Jamie would know exactly who he is on the lookout for.
It’s funny and it’s weird, but he’s not uncomfortable standing at the door, waiting for some woman he doesn’t even know. He’d do anything for Keeley, well aware that if she’s asking a favor, it’s for a good cause.
This is far out of his usual realm of expertise, but he reminds himself that he’s a person outside of being a footballer. A regular person would be a blind date for a friend of a friend at an awful work function.
Right?
Jamie doesn’t have time to dwell on the normality of this situation because the door is opening and you’re standing in front of him in some long gown that he swears outshines the stars.
“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about this.”
You call a goodbye down the hall before shutting the door. Jamie assumes it’s to a flatmate or something, whoever the owner of the other car in the driveway is. He just smiles. 
“I’ve had weirder dates,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing, love. Tonight’s gonna be fucking mint.” He offers you his arm.
You take it and feel yourself relax. It’ll be fine.
It is not fine.
Harry’s there, and god help you if you don’t want to kick him where it hurts. He’s surrounded by girls, shining that far-too dazzling smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up. Your grip on Jamie’s arm tightens, and he follows your gaze to your ex-flame.
“He’s fucking old,” Jamie comments.
“Yeah, well, that’s kind of how he gets you,” you reply. “Acts all charming and smart and shit and then next thing you know, you’re in his bed. Soon as that’s over, you’re done.”
“Twat,” Jamie responds with such conviction that you chuckle a little, despite yourself. That is, until Harry sees you and sheds his little entourage as he makes his way over.
“Shit,” you whisper. “How do I look?”
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jamie replies without missing a beat.
The words are barely out of his mouth when Harry is upon you, leaning in for a hug that Jamie doesn’t allow. You’re grateful for his block as he pretends he was going for a handshake. You don’t want Harry touching you and the sentiment is reinforced as he gives you a once-over and says, “Didn’t expect to see you here, darling. What, are you neglecting your duties for the evening?”
That sentence must have some hidden meaning, because your teeth are bared and it’s gone over Jamie’s head.
“My duties,” you say through clenched teeth, “include being here at this gala because we both work for the same company.”
Harry tilts his head in mock sympathy. “Yes, but if I recall your priorities have… shifted.”
Jamie might be losing circulation in his arm and he may not know exactly what is happening here, but he knows enough. Keeley told him Harry was a right git without really saying why, but he is in no need of an explanation. In fact, he thinks that “a right git,” is too much of a compliment.
Harry turns his attention toward Jamie. “Has she told you?”
Jamie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’ll be damned if he lets this prick win.
“Yes,” he replies forcefully.
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Ah, and that’s not a dealbreaker?”
Jamie shakes his head. 
“How…progressive of you,” Harry replies, meaning the exact opposite. “You see, I wouldn’t want someone who… well, you know.”
Jamie’s about to say, “No, I don’t know,” and also maybe punch Harry when more people come up, demanding your attention. As you both turn away, Harry calls, “Let me know when you get tired of the immaturity and need a real man. My bed is always open to you.”
Your face is bright red and you think you’re going to bolt. Jamie starts like he’s going to fight Harry and for a moment you wonder if Keeley sent him because he’s a little bit feral. 
Unfortunately for Harry and fortunately for you, he spoke a bit too loudly. 
You’ll find out later that he was heard by some higher-ups and removed from the premises. However, since that information is not made available to you until the next day, you spend the rest of the evening looking over your shoulder for Harry’s reappearance.
Jamie, god bless him, is a wonderful date. He goes the whole nine-yards, holding your hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, cracking jokes with you and others at your table. He’s making you look good, and feel relaxed in the process. By the end of the night you’re feeling confident and have made a good impression on several people on the board. 
You have new opportunities at your disposal, as well as a potential promotion. You put a reminder in your phone to send Keeley some daisies as a thank-you. You’ll send something for Jamie as well.
He walks you to your door, ever the gentleman. You thank him profusely for the night, and tell him you’ll be rooting for him next time Richmond has a match. He grins. “You a fan?” he asks.
You laugh. “Yeah, I am. Used to go to every match till… well, I just don’t get out much anymore.”
Jamie grins. “We’ll have to change that, darling.”
Darling. 
He says it so differently than Harry. It’s all… bubbly. Not condescending, not designed to make you feel small. 
“Good night, Jamie,” you say. 
You don’t really expect to see (or hear from) Jamie again, except you do. Because he’s texting you.
The content varies, from messages passed on from Keeley to gifs to memes to weird little stories from training. You think you’d like his coaches, even Roy. It already felt like you knew them from all their interviews that you’ve seen, but hearing the behind-the-scenes snippets solidifies the feeling even more. Your chatting is regulated to the early morning and your lunch breaks, as you’re not much of an evening person anymore.
Jamie doesn’t seem to mind, he’s up early to do extra training with Roy and you’re up early to prepare for the day. You enjoy hearing from him at 6am on the dot every morning.
Saturdays are nice, because you don’t have work. Keeley comes over sometimes, but today you’re on the Richmond Green. You’re sitting on a bench, watching a boy kick a small football. You’re so completely absorbed in the way he’s running back and forth that you are startled when a shadow casts over your face.
“Fancy seeing you here,” says a distinctly Mancunian voice.
“Jamie!” you exclaim. “What’re you doing here?”
Jamie points to his trainers. “Going for a quick run. Roy’s out of town, but he still makes me take laps. Fucking mental.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”
You open your mouth to reply when the boy with the tiny football comes flying over. “Are you Jamie Tartt?” he asks.
Jamie crouches to his level. “I am. What’s your name, mate?”
“Liam!” he replies. “I have a football like you!”
Jamie smiles. “Good lad. Keep up with the practice, and you’ll be better than me someday.”
Liam’s bouncing up and down, so excited that he throws his ball in the air. Jamie catches it and does a trick. At this point Liam is completely enamored with Jamie, and you are as well. He’s giving this kid his complete attention, making his whole day. Anyone else would have just shooed him off, but not Jamie.
He’s good with kids, your brain yells. 
You tell your brain to shut up.
Jamie tosses the ball back to Liam. “Where’s your mum?” he asks. “Might have tickets to a match for you.”
Liam points. Jamie turns to look behind the bench where you’re sitting, as that’s where Liam is pointing. There’s no one.
“Which one?” he asks, turning back to Liam.
“Me,” you say. “I’m his mum.”
Liam climbs into your lap and holds your face in his tiny hands. “Mum, Jamie Tartt says we can go to a match!” he says.
You laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, love, Jamie hasn’t made any promises.”
Liam settles into your lap, facing Jamie. He can’t see your face or the pleading look you’re giving Jamie.
Please don’t mess this up, you try to say with your eyes. Jamie must get the message because he keeps smiling and asks Liam if he wants to kick the ball around for a bit. You watch them go, dreading the imminent conversation.
Liam’s asleep in his little Richmond pajamas. He loves football, and you watch every single match the Greyhounds play. Tickets are expensive, and you promised you’d take him to a real game one day. Truth is, you aren’t sure when that will be. It’s not easy being a single mum, but as you watch Liam’s sleeping face, you know you wouldn’t trade him for anything.
You sigh and get out of the rocking chair. Might as well call Jamie and get it over with.
Please pick up, you pray, and he does; you’re in the dim kitchen lights, poking at a cup of tea.
“Hey!” comes Jamie’s surprised voice. “You alright? Need anything?”
You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No, I wanted to talk about today. And Liam. Harry’s his dad.”
“Figured,” Jamie replies. “Made his comments at the gala make more fucking sense.”
“Yeah,” you say. Harry is a fucking prick. “Harry… he doesn’t have any custody. He’s not allowed near Liam. He also doesn’t pay child support. Or want a child. Or anything, really. He just wants to fuck around and do what he wants with no consequences. I should’ve known better honestly, I’m not even one to go around like that. Figures the one time I do it ends up like this. Not that I’m complaining,” you continue, “Liam is the best part of my life. It’s just hard when I keep losing people because they don’t want him too. Keeley’s the only one who stuck around. Did you know she’s a surprisingly great babysitter? Even kicks around a football in the yard with him.” 
Jamie makes a surprised noise. It’s hard to picture Keeley in that exact situation, but not hard to imagine her doing anything that her friends needed.
“Anyway,” you continue, “I get if this makes things weird. You don’t have to get us tickets to the match. Liam’s still pretty little anyway… always taking bathroom breaks and needing snacks.”
“The owner’s box would be perfect,” Jamie blurts.
That isn’t the reply you were expecting, so you’re silent for a moment as he continues, “I mean… It’s easy to get in and out of, Rebecca’s got a fridge and a restroom…People bring their kids all the time. He’d love it. I’d love it,” he finishes.
You’re not sure. This is the longest anyone has ever stuck around when it comes to Liam, and you don’t really want to go to jail for murder if Jamie breaks his heart. All he could talk about for the rest of the day was how Jamie Tartt played football with him. Isaac McAdoo is is number one favorite, but you think Jamie is now a close second. 
“Alright,” you say finally. “We’ll be there.”
It’s past Liam’s bedtime, like way past, and he’s asleep with his head on your shoulder. Your arms are tired from holding him and your throat is sore from screaming at the Richmond match. Jamie was right, Liam loved it. He wore his McAdoo jersey and got to meet the whole team before the game. You have a picture of him on Isaac’s shoulders, smiling so big. It’s weird to think that he probably won’t remember any of this when he’s older. 
You’re waiting in a lobby of some kind for Jamie to come out. You’re leaning against a wall, feeling Liam’s steady breathing as he dreams. 
Meanwhile, Jamie’s in the locker room, freaking out. 
“Coach,” he says, wearing a hole in the floor, “how do you ask out a girl who’s got a kid?” 
“Well Jamie-” Ted says. 
“Are there some kind of rules I’m supposed to follow?” Jamie continues, oblivious. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say?”
“I think-” Ted tries again. 
“Nah fuck it, I’m just going to ask,” Jamie says.
Ted grins. “That sounds like a good plan, son.”
Jamie smiles back. “Thanks, coach. You always have the best advice.”
Ted shakes his head, still smiling as Jamie leaves the locker room.
Jamie rounds the corner to find you half-asleep against a wall near some trophy case, with Liam breathing out tiny snores. He swears that he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and it freaks him out for a moment. It’s…domestic in a way he didn’t ever expect his life to be. 
He shakes off the weirdness and walks over. 
“Hi,” he says, unable to contain a smile. “D’you want me to hold him for you?”
“That would actually be amazing,” you reply. “My arms are killing me.”
The sight of Liam asleep in Jamie’s arms is enough to make your brain go oh shit. Because, oh. Shit. This boy is going to break your heart if you’re not careful.
“How’d you like the game?” Jamie asks as you begin to walk to the car park.
“I loved it,” you reply sincerely. “Haven’t actually been to a match since this one.” You pat Liam’s back affectionately. “Kid had a great time too. Talked about meeting Isaac McAdoo the entire match. He’s like some football aficionado in a four-year-old’s body, swear down.”
Jamie’s still smiling as he helps you get Liam into his car seat. “What’re you doing the rest of the night?”
You laugh. “Oh god, I wish I could say going to sleep. But I have to meal prep for the week while Liam’s asleep. Otherwise he gets his sticky fingers in everything. Gonna take a solid two hours, at least.”
Jamie hesitates. It’s now or never. “Could I come over?” he asks. “Can’t cook for shit, but I could keep you company.”
You pause. “Jamie- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
But god, you want it so bad.
“I’m being serious,” Jamie says. “Not trying to mess with you. I like you. Think you’re fucking fit. I like being around you and I liked kicking the football around with Liam. He’s a good lad. I think it’s worth giving a try.”
You look at Liam. He’s still fast asleep, oblivious to his mum’s turmoil.
“Alright,” you say, still not looking at Jamie. “Let’s give it a try.”
Jamie grins and ghosts his thumb across your cheek, making you look at him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So now’s your moment to tell me to fuck off.”
You smile. “Can’t say that in front of Liam anyway,” you say as you crash your lips into his.
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georgiapeach30513 · 5 months
Text
Your Mark On Me, Part 9
Summary: you're losing your grip
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, pinching, oral sex (F and M receiving), face riding, pussy job, creampie (?), mentions of forced tattoo, mentions of branding, D/s dynamics, teasing, exhibition, spanking, pearl play, dry humping, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.8K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*Chris tattoo edit by @nixakimbo
*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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You give a small moan as the most beautiful sight plays in your subconscious mind. Moaning out loud. Your dream Steve was being so soft, and you hadn’t realized it was something you craved. His lips kissing over your body, and you hate how hard and long holding out on him was going to be. Whimpering out his name, and hoping you never had to wake up.
His touch becomes more harsh, “Steve,” you whine, wishing he would go back to his softer smoother motions. It was too early, and you didn’t want that kind touch.
“Steve! Ow!” Screaming out loud. You wake up to him pinching both your nipples in a vice grip. “What the hell?” You scream as you sit up in bed. Smacking at both his hands until he removes them from your throbbing tits. “That hurt!”
“Unless you let me fuck you, you cannot be making all that fucking noise in your goddamn sleep! Fuck, Dovey. I’m fucking hard again. Can you not suck my cock?”
“No! You,” you look down at your chest, and rub on your bruising tits. “You pinched me!”
“And your naked ass was rubbing on my cock, while you were making those fucking noises. Dove, I can’t stand this. Let me fuck you!”
“No.”
“Please. Dovey, baby, please let your Captain fuck you.”
“Do I have your heart?” You ask, cocking up your eyebrow. Steve’s face tenses up, and you can’t help but smirk. He was avoiding answering. “Then no,” you turn away from him, and lay back down. You are going to go back to sleep, and enjoy the softer him.
“Fucking hell, Dovey. This isn’t even fair!”
“You branded my neck without my consent. Now you can wait on my cunt with my consent,” Steve growls, jumping out of the bed, and starts stomping to the bathroom. “Where are you going?”
“To fuck my fist again!”
“Steve!”
“No!” He spins on his heels, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare use your whiney voice. I can’t stand this. I can’t function properly. Because your fine ass sleeps in the bed every fucking night naked. And then I wake up to you doing that thing with your ass on me, and making those fucking noises, and it isn’t fair. Fine, I branded you, so brand me.”
You stare at him, your eyes unblinking, but shake your head no. “Fuck yes. Brand me, and then you’ll get over this bullshit.”
“You think this is the only thing I’m pissed off about?”
“Well, goddammit, Dove, you sure the fuck like to bring it up all the fucking time!”
“You didn’t give me a fucking choice, Steven. You held me down while I begged you not to do it. So…”
“I’ll let you do it,” wrapping your arms around you, your eyes start to well up with tears. He didn’t get it. “Yes, baby, I’ll let you choose the method, and what you want. I know I’m tattooed pretty much everywhere, but — fuck,” he whispers, moving closer to you, and wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“Dovey, baby, please. I want us to move past this. Just tell me what it is I need to do, and I will do it.”
“You will do anything just to fuck me though.”
“I’ll do anything to make you mine. Whatever you want,” he is damn near pouting like a child. Begging for anything that would make you give up the one thing that was keeping you in control.
“I want you to give me your…”
“I can’t, so don’t ask me. I want to protect you. I want for you to be my queen, but you won’t let me,” sniffling, you lean back, and stare into his crystal blue eyes. You heard him, but aren’t sure if you believe him.
“But you keep me here in this cabin, or at school.”
Gulping, Steve nods his head. His hands, caress your back, and you finally slow down enough to feel his massive and hard cock, pressing into your stomach. “It’s done. Whatever. And I still want you to brand me.”
“Steve?” He hums, acknowledging you, and a sinful smile pulls up your mouth. “I want to try something.”
“Whatever you want, Dovey.”
“Take off your underwear and lay on the bed,” his tongue swipes over his lips before he brings his bottom lip into his mouth. Biting on the puffy pillow, “Please? Or we could watch each other get off.”
“As hot as that sounds, I am curious what you have in mind,” his arms drop from around your body, and he steps back. Letting your eyes wander over his chiseled and decorated body before he pulls down his boxers. His angry cock bounces up, and you stare at the beads of precum leaking down his member. Coating his piercing, and you sigh knowing that cock is yours.
“Hey, Clarence,” you giggle, nodding to the bed.
“I really hate the name you gave him.”
“Clarence is my friend. Aren’t you buddy?”
“Until Clarence destroys you for other men,” like you are ever going to know. If Steve has it his way he is going to murder anyone that so much as looks at you like they want to fuck you. If he could read minds, he’d kill any man that dared to have an illicit thought about you.
“Steve, get on the damn bed,” rolling his eyes, he clamors onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head as he watches your naked body. “I saw this on a video once.”
“Porn is not real sex, Dovey.”
“And we’re not having sex. Shut up, and lay there,” you crawl onto the bed with him, and look down at his monstrous dick. You still aren’t sure where the hell he was going to fit that. “You can look, but not touch right now, okay?”
“You’re killing me.”
“Okay?”
“Fine,” Slinging your leg over his body, you start kissing up his dick. Giving him a clear view of your glistening folds before flattening your tongue, and licking up the thick vein. “Fuck me,” he groans when you flick your tongue over his slit. Moaning at his salty flavor.
“Yeah, like that, baby,” it is almost a whine as you suck over his spongy tip. “Take it all,” you respond by wiggling your ass, and he wants to foam at the mouth. “Can I spread you apart?”
“What?” Lifting off him, you peek around your ass. He is staring at your cunt like a kid in a candy store. Ready to devour every bit of your honey.
“I won’t touch, I just want to stare at the face of God just a bit better.”
“Don’t put your finger inside of me, and I’ll let you spread me open, Captain. But I’m also just getting started.”
“Fine. Ahh!” He yelps when you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, and slap Clarence over your lips. His thick mitts grab each globe of your ass, and split you open. Letting his fingers drift lower, and he pulls apart your pussy lips. Moaning when you clench around nothing. Your arousal is getting so sticky and sweet, and all he wants is a little taste. Just a tiny bit, but he wants to know all you have planned.
Your little bean needs to be flicked, and your tight hole needs to be filled, but the way you are sucking on his dick was enough for him to come undone. “Don’t come unless I tell you, too,” you tease, looking back at him. Waiting on him to look at your sly little grin before swallowing him whole.
“You’re such a brat,” if he wanted to see a brat, you would show him one. Quickly you sit up, and drop yourself right onto his face. Grinding over his mouth, and let him slurp up your juices. Your hands press down into the mattress as you ride his face. My goodness, he is good. You could come right now. Letting his lips circle around your clit as he sucks on the pearl.
You’re gonna come. But you won’t let him enjoy cleaning up your honey. “Yeah. Captain!” He loves hearing your sweet voice call him that. His cock is throbbing at getting you off. Bringing up your hands to your tits, you give your nipples some stimulation as you let Steve work you over.
“So good, Captain. Right there. Yeah. Fuck yeah,” he swats at your ass, and you moan even louder. “Fuck, Captain,” another slap. “So fucking good! Ahh!” Screaming at your release as Steve smacks you again, you lean back down, and bob a few times on his cock.
“Oh, come on!” He shouts, having to stare up your petals soaked in your cream. Your sticky slick coats your thighs, and you need to be properly cleaned, “Dovey!”
“Enjoy looking at your brat, Captain,” he licks your remaining slick on his lips. Mesmerized at how pretty your pussy looks. Knowing how much better it will look, gaping, swollen, and coated in his cum. The messier your cunt looked the better. He was going to have to get a camera to record him destroying you. Owning you. Filling you up with his essence.
“Okay,” you chirp, sitting up, you turn to look at him.
“Now, that’s a bunch of horse shit. You better fucking finish the job. If you come, I better come.”
“I’m still not finished, Captain,” you promise so sweetly as your other leg swings over him. “I want Clarence to feel me,” holding the base of his cock, you sink down until you feel the cool metal from his piercing at your entrance. Rubbing his tip through your folds, and tempted to just push it through your hole. Holding it right there.
“I’ll let you do it, but I wouldn’t advise letting gravity have its way with you. What’re you doing, baby? Is this what you saw in the — holy fuck,” he whines as you lay him flat, and you settle your weight over his length. Letting your pussy lips be on either side of his cock.
Steve sits up, looking down at his stomach. This isn’t at all what he had planned. Seeing you innocently biting at your lip as you start to move over him. Your drenched cunt rubbing over his length in the most delightful way. He would have never taken the time for this. It was always about getting it in, and getting his feel before he’d leave his cum on their chest, their face, whatever. Never inside of them.
But with you he wanted to see you dripping with him. Wanted to watch your face as he split you open for the first time. He needed to see every change to your face. Hear all your sounds of pain and discomfort turn into blinding pleasure. He needed to see and feel it all.
But this not only feels amazing, it looks even better. Your sweet whimpers while you use him to get off. Even the bounce of your tits as you start to pick up speed, “Can I touch you?” You answer by nodding your head quickly. His hands slid up your body before cupping your breasts. Kneading each one of them with the expertise that only he has.
“You look so gorgeous, little bird. You’re making your Captain feel so good,” you start panting at his words. He admitted he was yours. “Clarence loves the way your pussy feels. Fuck, I need this, Dove. Everyday until you give me what’s mine. You’re going to take me so well, too. This pussy was made for me. She’s going to be molded to your Captain. The perfect fit, Dovey.”
He smiles when your movements become erratic. He isn’t sure if it’s the gyrating of your hips or the praising, but he is loving this. “I knew you could be a good girl for me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, Dovey. You’re all mine, and my body is all yours. Have you stretched so tight around me, and I’ll kiss away every tear that spills from your pretty eyes. There ya go, Dove. Right there, baby. You’re doing the best job for your Captain. Oh fuck, baby!”
He pinches and rolls your nipples as your legs start trembling. “There’s my girl. Look at how pretty you look when you’re coming. Go on, Dove. Ride it out. Ride out your high, darling,” he can feel your juices soak his pelvis, and while he was close, he was going to let you come down from this high.
“Thatta, girl,” removing his hands, he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, and twists you around. Hovering his body over yours, his thick fingers brush back your baby hairs as he waits on your eyes to open back up. “How was that?”
“You didn’t — Capt…oh,” your voice sinks away when his hips thrust himself through your lips. It isn’t sex, and in a way, it is much more intimate. Steve looks over your face, and just how utterly spent you are becoming. Squeaking, and trying to mutter out his nickname.
“Shh, enjoy the ride,” he whispers before starting to nip at your neck. Giving the sensitive column open mouth kisses as you cling to his back. His whole weight was on top of you, and you wanted more. If you could speak, you’d tell him to have it right now. To go ahead and sink into you for real, but you couldn’t.
His pelvis drives through your folds quicker, the ball of his piercing rubbing over your clit, and causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. You keep your legs good and spread to accommodate the thick body of Steve. A limp noodle. That’s what you were. Lifeless, but full of the most blinding pleasure.
“Dovey, I’m about to come, where do you want it?”
“Like…like that first time.”
“You want me to try to get some in you?” Vigorously you nod your head, and he hates he had to ask you. He wants his seed so deep inside of you that it makes him crazy. Sitting up, he chokes his cock a few times, before pressing the tip right at your entrance, and you simper as his warmth coats your pussy.
“Did some of it get in me?” Chuckling, Steve leans back on his heels, and spreads you out. “Yes, Dovey. Some of it got in there. I’d finger it in you, but I don’t want you to get pregnant like this.”
“Steve, I have an IUD,” he growls, his jaw pulsing. “What is it?”
“We gotta have that removed.”
“But…I don’t want to get pregnant right away. I want you to have me dicked down so hard I can’t walk. And I just don’t want to worry about that. Steve, I did this for us.”
“Fine. A few months, but then I want it removed. Because I will fuck you so hard and deep that your belly starts to swell with me. Fuck,” he grits his teeth, getting out of the bed. He doesn’t say another word as he walks into the bathroom. Returning with a warm washcloth he cleans you up. Finishing, he leans forward and peppers the sweetest kisses over your core. Letting a kiss linger as his eyes drift up to you, and he stands up swiftly.
“I need a cigarette. Go back to bed. I’ll be back in just a minute,” his voice is short, and almost angry? Puzzled?
“Okay,” you look at him a bit confused, but crawl under the covers, and hold them tight around your body. He was acting funny, and you aren’t sure why.
Steve stands just outside the front door. Keeping it wide open as he stares into the cabin. Taking long drawls of the stick. He knows he’s starting to lose his mind. First offering to let you brand him, and now this. He wouldn’t lose his touch, but he also wasn’t going to lose you. Yeah. He wanted you pregnant to keep you. It’s all it was. And that is a secret he would keep to himself.
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“Hey,” you are thankful that there was a break from classes, and you could lounge around all day. But the random visits from Natasha were annoying. “Ahem,” she clears her throat, and you grunt in response. You want to be left alone.
“I hope your tits are covered, I’m coming in there.”
“Ahh,” you bring the covers up around your chest, jolting up in bed. “What are you doing?”
“I did warn you,” she pulls open your curtains, and you notice a box in her hands that she tosses on the bed. “There. It’s for you to wear. Steve will be here at five. You need a shower. Change the fucking sheets on the bed, and get used to people looking at your body. Steve loves showing off what he has that no one can touch. You could take a bath and get good and relaxed. Isn’t there some oils in there? Make yourself look nice.”
“What is going on?” Asking as you timidly pull the box towards you.
“Aww, your tattoo has healed nicely. I heard about it. You really let him do that?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” reaching into the box, you pull out a slinky dress. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m going to tell your lover boy you said that,” she gives you a quick wink. Was everyone aware that Steve didn’t like you using profanity? Everyone single one of them were probably watching and listening, just to tell him, “You’re going on a date. He’ll be here at five. Don’t be late.”
“I don’t have any shoes for this dress.”
Natasha takes a calculated step towards you before cupping your cheek. Her thumb traces the outline of your kiss bruised lips, and she smiles sweetly at you. “Honey, you belong to Steve Rogers. He’ll bring everything else that you’ll need for the date. He sure is breaking you in nicely. Have you let him fucked you yet?”
“No. His cock scares me,” your voice is so weak as you put the dress back in the box. You’d get it out after your bath.
“Why?” Natasha tries to stifle her giggles, and you swat her hand off your face. Glaring up at her for mocking you, “Ooh, she’s feisty, but too scared to take little Stevie’s dick. You know it’ll fit.”
“Three fingers hurt.”
“And that veiny cock is going to sting. Surely three fingers eventually feel good? I bet you like a little bit of the pain, don’t you? Is it true he’s pierced?” Her perfectly arched brow moves up, and she grins at you once again.
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I’m talking about his — you sly dog. You won’t let him put it in your puss or your ass, but you’ll take it in your mouth. What gives?” Shrugging, because it was killing you to continue to deny him. And ultimately yourself. “Things stretch.”
“That sounds awful!”
“At first,” shocking you, she flops down on yours and Steve’s bed, grimacing as she looks at you. “Please, tell me the two of you just sleep here.”
“I’m naked,” of course you and Steve didn’t just sleep in here. You and him were discovering ways to pleasure yourselves and each other without penetration. It was beginning to suck.
“Shh. I don’t need to hear that. I’m going to give you some pointers because you and your baby bird talons have managed to do something to Steve. You want to fuck him, yeah?”
“Duh,” you cover your mouth, trying to stop yourself from giggling. “But it’s so big!”
“Don’t…stop. Keep your tits covered. The pussy stretches to accommodate large things. I mean babies come out of that hole,” gasping, you take that information in. “Oh, you’ll experience that as well. Steve is going to have his babies. But you’re freaking yourself out about it. Let it just happen. He’s not going to just shove himself in there. He’s going to, you know, play with you.”
“This is really awkward,” the way everyone is so open with your sex life, and your body is slightly embarrassing. Natasha is better than Bucky or Sam, but still. The principle of the matter is you need to get used to this.
“Use one of your toys, and…”
“I’m not allowed to have penetrating toys.”
Her mouth falls open as she looks at you. Reaching around you to your side of the bed, she pulls open the drawer, and starts laughing, “Not allowed? And you behave? I’d like for someone to tell me I couldn’t do something. What is this shit? What do you even do with them?”
You spend a lot of time swatting Natasha. Getting her out of your drawer, you close it. Turning to look at her with a glare, “But I’m not you. I don’t mind being told what to do, and also testing his boundaries. And, well…I do want Steve to be the first thing, ya know? Like that’s somehow romantic in our fucked up relationship. He’s the only person to ever be inside me,” Natasha tilts her head to the side, her eyes flit around your face as she studies you. “And only his fingers. And mine. And I like that. And I don’t know if what I’m doing is making him want to beg for me. I don’t want to be the one that breaks.”
“So you want him to break?” You can see the mischievousness in her grin as she looks towards the door. “Okay, I know what he’s bringing you when he picks you up. I’ve got the perfect idea!”
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“Little bird!” Steve shouts the moment he walks in the door. You take a final look at yourself in the mirror before inhaling a deep breath. Starting to turn around when Steve’s reflection is behind you. “Dove,” his voice whispers as his eyes scan over your front and back. You almost have forgotten your given name in preference of his nickname.
“Wow,” stepping up behind you, his hands skim down your sides, before flowing over your stomach, and he pulls you into him. “What do you think of the dress?”
“It’s nice. But what do you think?”
“I think you look good enough to devour, but we should get to dinner.”
“Steve, I don’t have any shoes for this dress,” you turn around in his embrace, looking up at him through your lashes. There’s always little reminders of just how massive he is. The most broad shoulders you have ever seen. And those chiseled arms that are currently wrapping around you tightly, and make you feel secure. Not trapped.
“I know, darling. I brought you some shoes with me. And also,” you hate the loss of his arms and warmth around you, but he reaches in his back pocket to take out a jewelry box. “I know most women expect diamonds, and don’t worry, you’ll get your diamonds.”
Opening the box, you glance back up at him, and he gulps. Licking his lips slowly as he removes the piece of jewelry. You turn back around, letting him place the necklace around your neck, “Pearls represent purity. And one day I’ll have you dripping in diamonds.”
“The day I’m no longer pure?” You ask, looking at his eyes through the mirror as he finishes clasping the necklace. “The day you no longer want me?”
“Dovey, you’ll always be more pure than me. And the day I no longer want you is a day that doesn’t exist. If I die first, I will haunt you. You’ll always be mine.”
“And if I die first?” Steve takes a long inhale as his lips start running over the top of your back. Not even lifting fully off your skin as he presses his petal pink mouth over your supple skin, “What happens if I die first?”
“I’ll join you in the afterlife immediately after. I won’t live without you,” biting on your lip, Steve looks deep into your eyes in the mirror, “There is no me without you, Dovey. I will tear this world apart and burn it to ashes to save you. And that’s a promise. But for now, I think it’s time for dinner. C’mon. You need your shoes,” sliding his hand down to yours, he guides you into the living room where he picks up a new box.
Starting to reach towards the box, he beats you, and sinks down to his knees, “Give me your right foot. I’m here for balance, Dovey, use me,” you have to brace yourself as you hold your hand on him to keep yourself from falling. His calloused hands add each heel to your foot before he kisses up your leg.
The softest open mouth kisses, guiding his way up to the hemline of your dress, but it doesn’t stop his ascent. Kissing right over your front and then peppering kisses across your collarbone. Going further up to kiss your tattoo, “You wear my mark beautifully, Dovey. We really should go.”
You aren’t sure how long Steve is going to remain soft, or if he’s only trying to break you, so he can receive his ultimate prize, but it’s working. Every bit of it. You don’t even want to go to dinner, you want tonight to be the night. Because he’s worth it.
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You take a bite of cheesecake off Steve’s fork. Smiling at him while you pull his hand under your dress, and higher up your thigh. Letting him feel just how heated your core was for him. Tonight was amazing. Not just romantic, but fun. He laughed. He kissed you in between courses.
His life is fascinating, and you love being a part of it. His pinky wiggles along your panties, and you bite of your lip, stopping a whimper from escaping. You lean your head over onto his shoulder as you let him feel just how ruined your panties are.
You mewl, and grab tighter to his arm. Enjoying this moment when a man clears his throat. “Looks like your getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, Rogers.”
“Rumlow,” Steve grunts, leaning forward slightly in front of your body, and blocking you from this man. “Aren’t you usually in the slums of the city?”
“Funny, Rogers. So it is true?” Steve pulls himself out from under your dress, and grabs your hand, holding it tightly. Dinner was almost over, and now there is a man you had never met, and he is ruining the moment you were having. “You got you a little doll to dress up, huh?”
“Just some girl,” making a sign of irritation, Steve’s hand squeezes yours, and you shut up quickly. “I thought I told you not to come here.”
“Yeah, well, there’s not so nice of places to eat where you banished me to. The delicacies here are much nicer. Word on the street is there’s some nice rare and fresh pussy in your midst,” Rumlow chuckles when Steve’s hand drops yours, and he stands, twisting Rumlow around to have his face shoved up against the table.
He laughs as he looks up at you, “You’ll learn. He’ll just use you up like all his other whores,” Steve lifts his head up, and slams it back on the table. “Enough, Rogers!”
“Apologize to her!” He grunts, pounding his head again. “Apologize!”
“So she’s not some girl. You used to send your whores wherever you got the most money. Now look at you, holding one on a short leash, and all for your own. Going soft. Alright!” He shouts when Steve hits his head again. A dribble of blood starting to drip on the table.
A part of you wants to turn and leave and forget about this life. The other part is watching your man fight for your honor. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks for ruining our fucking dinner, you fucking pig,” he slings his body over to another table and the patrons scream. His inked hand softens when he takes yours. “Let’s go home, Dovey.”
His voice is steady, but you hear the anger in it. Choosing to not make a comment this time. Knowing that he needs to work through his anger on the long drive to the cabin. Swallowing deeply as you try to hydrate your mouth. Tonight was perfect. And with one asshole it was ruined, and you hadn’t had a chance to initiate Natasha’s plan.
Driving quietly to the cabin, you watch Steve’s hands flex on the steering wheel, “Who was that?”
“A piece of shit.”
“I could tell,” Steve huffs, and drives a bit faster. “Who was it?”
“A former friend. He…he’s another dealer. Not quite as successful, and he sure likes to piss me off. This…I want you kept away from people like him. They think they know, and they have no idea. But — I should have known better. People can talk, but…”
“We don’t have to go on dates anymore,” grimacing, he turns to look at you. “Is it dangerous for me to be seen with you?”
“I put a fucking target on your neck.”
“I can finish school online. I don’t want to stay in the cabin alone and waiting on you, but I don’t have to be seen.”
“Why are you acting so calm about this?”
You shrug, turning your body to face him as your hand plants on his thigh, and rubs it soothingly. “Because I have to be the calm to your chaos.”
“You’re a fucking brat.”
“When I need to be,” Steve’s mouth turns up into a crooked grin as he pulls into the cabin. Starting to retreat, you had plans, and you would see them through. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable, Captain,” his eyes darken as you jump out of the car. You make sure to add some extra sway into your hips as you make your way into your new home.
Steve stays in the car for a moment as he thinks about how stupid and reckless he’s been. Rumlow had heard something. Didn’t matter if it was about you specifically. He heard something, and that was enough to irritate the fuck out of him.
He’d put a target right on your neck, one that told people who you belonged to. And most would leave you alone. There were a select few that were stupid enough to try something, and that clearly hadn’t been on the front of his mind.
He’d keep you hidden if he had to. He’d keep you right beside him. Whatever it took because you now belonged to him, and he would murder the world if it meant keeping you safe.
He sighs, knowing it was going to be another night of him aching. You were folding. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. But you had proven to be just as stubborn as he was, and it made him giddy. Of course he’d want to keep someone that challenged him. And looked damn adorable in doing so.
Walking into the cabin, he tosses his keys to the side when he sees you standing in the doorway with your little lingerie on. Turning around, he locks the door and sets the alarm, “I’m not really in the mood, Dovey.”
“I know you’re not, Captain. I just thought we could relax a moment before bed,” he turns around, the blue of his eyes barely visible as he looks you up and down. Stopping on your mark before he looks at your bare neck.
“I need to get you a place to store your jewelry. Did you place it on the dresser?” You shake your head no as he walks towards the couch. Stopping with your answer, and you ease closer to him. Kneeling on the floor in front of him as you pout up at his tall stature. He cups your chin, tilting your face up more, so he can see you better.
His thumb traces your lips, and you part your mouth. The appendage slips past your pillowy pout, and you respond, closing your mouth around him. Sucking on his large thumb, and wishing it was his cock in your mouth., “On the counter in the bathroom?”
You shake your head no again, and his lip turns up into a snarl. Hoping you are right in your thinking on what he needs to do. “What the fuck, Dove? Where is it?”
“I must have lost it,” he growls, removing his thumb and plopping down on the couch, and laying his head back on the cushions. His hands pulses with his anger. Natasha told you he had taken the time to pick out the piece of jewelry himself. “Are you mad, Captain?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed off. I got something for you to be nice, and you fucking lost it. It’s like you don’t even care. It’s…”
“You think I deserve a punishment?” His head picks up from the couch, and he glares at you. Trying to ignore your tits that are early popping out of your top. Or the way that the garter belt is digging into your soft skin. You were walking sin. A pure temptress that was nothing but a cocktease.
“I lost something that is precious to you. You’re angry, so why don’t you show me what happens to naughty girls?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, Dovey,” the timbre of his voice is low and full of rasp as you tilt your head, and nod.
“I do. Don’t you remember what happened last time you punished me? The way my body responded to you? Don’t you want to try again?”
In one movement he has you laying across his lap, and his beefy hand smooths over your ass. Letting out a little whimper, you turn back to look up at him. “Did you really lose my gift I just gave you a few hours ago?”
“Yes, sir,” smack. “Mmm,” you moan, and Steve’s hand rubs over your stinging skin. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” slap on the other cheek. His eyes look more at your jiggling ass than your face.
“I am sorry, Captain. Ooh!” You mewl as he slaps each cheek back to back. “I’ve been such a bad,” smack, “Naughty,” smack, “little bird,” the hardest smack of all brings a line of tears to your eyes. “Captain, I didn’t mean it.”
“How is your ass feeling, Dovey?”
“It hurts.”
“How’s my pussy feeling, Dove?” You clear your throat, trying to lift yourself up for him to get a better view. “I can feel you throbbing on me. You sure are a little slut that needs to be devoured, huh? Shall I take a look at that pretty hole?” You shake your head no, biting at your lip. “I deserve to see the mess that I helped create. You’re burning a hole in my pants with how heated you are.”
His thick fingers start to pull down your lacey underwear, and he lets them stay on your thighs. With one hand on each cheek, he pulls you apart, and looks back up at your face, “Dovey, what are you trying to do?”
“Nothing, Captain.”
“What have we here?” You whimper as his hand reaches in between your thighs, giving the necklace a little tug. Wiggling around on his lap, you try not to make a peep as a few of the pearls pop out of your entrance.
“Who taught you about pearl play, hmm? I don’t like when things go in my pussy that aren’t me.”
“But it’s so small. Uhh,” you bite on your lip as he rubs a few of the pearls over your sensitive nub. “I didn’t…”
“It was Natasha, wasn’t it? She taught you how to be a naughty little slut. Are you ready to submit to me?”
“Do I have your heart?” Steve flattens the strand of pearls above your clit, and pushes and pulls it over your own pearl. “Do I, Steve?”
“Is my loyalty not enough?”
“Is that all I’m worth?”
“You’re more than the world could ever offer.”
“Then say…mmm…say it!” Your voice cracks as pleasure courses through your veins. “I need you to say that I own your heart!”
“You own me,” he pulls a few of the pearls out of your twat, and stars interrupt your vision. “You own my whole being. My loyalty. My protection. My everything.”
You grab onto his legs tightly, gritting your teeth as your orgasm builds up. Nearly taking your breath away, but you weren’t going to give it to him. “I want your heart!” Steve pulls the necklace fully out of you, and starts slapping your swollen pussy lips with his flattened hand. “I need your heart, Steve!”
He doesn’t stop. Just continues to slap over the sensitive skin as your juices pool out of you. “Steve, give me your heart! Ahh! Please, that's all I want!” Turning your head to look at him, he gives you a regretful look, “Please!” You sigh as his hand flattens over your core. “Will you not give it to me?”
He shakes his head, letting his hands drop to his sides. Giving a little growl, you remove your belly from his lap. Standing up to remove your panties completely before turning to straddle him. Grabbing up his hand you place it over your chest. “It’s yours. All of it, and all of me is yours. Why can’t you do the same for me? Steve, you own me. I own you, so give me what I want! Please.”
“I have no heart to give you,” he whispers, pulling you to him by your chin. “I lost it a long time ago, but if I had one, it would be yours.”
“You just don’t want to tell me you love me.”
“You haven’t even told me,” he smirks, dropping his hands to your thighs, they run to your hips, and he starts grinding you over his lap. His cock presses into his slacks, and right onto your bare center. It’s a fear you’ve had. As amazing as he feels, you worry this is all he can give you. “Tell me.”
“You first,” Steve clears his throat, as he moves you faster over him. Moving his head closer to your chest before biting on your top, and pulling it down enough to free your tits. Giving your nipple a bite, he rolls the hardened bud in between his teeth. “We’re at a stand still. Will you love our children?”
“I’ll protect them and care for them.”
“That’s all you’re going to give us?”
“Honey, are you daydreaming about our family?”
“Don’t tease,” you give his arm a little swat before you force him to look at you. His hands not having to make you move anymore as your hips naturally search for that pleasuring friction. “I love you, Steven Rogers. And you can have me when I mark you. All of me. I want every woman to be envious that you’re owned. Every man to know that you come home to me every night. I want our children to look at their father and believe that he loves their mother enough to have her seared on his skin.”
“Done,” he moans, and you reach behind you, removing your bra. Letting yourself be almost completely bare and vulnerable for him. Leaning forward, you give him a hard bite on his neck. Right where you were going to mark him, and he grits his teeth. You don’t let up. You listen as his breathing picks up. Can feel bruises forming on your hips with the way he is digging into your skin.
His cock is throbbing, needing so much more than this not so dry humping. His pants are ruined, and his neck is getting implanted with your teeth marks. But you don’t stop. You bite down a bit harder, until he’s screaming in pleasure and pain, and his spunk heats up your core. You pull off his neck. Sitting straight up, and shimmy your shoulders.
“Is that it then? Searing my skin?”
“I want my lips to burn your neck. I need to see my brand charred on you.”
“As you wish, Dovey. I’ll have Natasha get your lips copied, and a branding tool will be created. You can burn my whole body if it means I get you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“And one day, I’ll have your heart, Steve,” you pull off him, and reach your hand down to him. “Let’s go to bed.”
“As you wish.”
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @honeyhoneylovelylove 
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stickyspeckledlight · 1 month
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Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]
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The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.
Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)
Ao3
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The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.
But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.
Chat: Limits
"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."
Chat: Lovely Things
“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.
Chat: Change
“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”
Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People
“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”
How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.
They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.
Chat: Willful Ignorance
“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”
But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.
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loving-barnes · 3 months
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LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY
A/N: Here comes chapter FOUR! Oh wow. It's easier when I do this for fun. I don't feel that much pressure to write and put it out regularly. I think the pace of releasing new chapters will slow down soon, but I hope to finish this at least the way I want to.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: violence, blood
Summary: In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.
Words: 5200+
Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Three
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LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY
The sky turned dark blue, and the moon showed high up. Y/N’s eyes were locked on it, watching as it illuminated the whole world. She found nights to be her favourite - calm, peaceful. Everyone’s soul would rest as their heads would travel into the dreamland. Then again, sleeping was difficult and unpleasant when nightmares entered uninvited.
“What happened today?” Logan brought her back to reality with the question. “Why the tears?” 
She exhaled, annoyed by that question. “I talked with the Professor,” she said, not looking at him. “He told me about slipping from Cerebro. And I know you know.” 
His eyes never left the road. “I know. We all do. He didn’t tell us why it kept happening.” 
Y/N turned her head to him and observed his focused face. His hands were resting on the steering wheel. “He discovered the reason.” Logan looked at her for a brief moment. “It has to do with my mutation. In his words, it is all about protection. Somehow, it shields my brain from telepaths or any mind infiltration.” 
“I thought he read your mind,” he was confused. 
“He did,” she nodded. “Until he couldn’t again. My mind decides for itself, it seems. One moment, you can come in and have a peak, and then, the doors close, and you are left standing outside in the cold.” 
“You’ll figure it out.” 
“I already figured out other things. I am dumb and naive,” Y/N scoffed. “That realisation hurt like a bitch.” 
His eyes were back on her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You are not any of those things.” 
She had to laugh. “Oh, if you only knew how many stupid things I did in the past. You’d then know that I am right.” 
“We all make stupid things,” he commented. “I have my own fair share of them.” 
Y/N shifted in her seat and turned her body to see him better. “Ah, will I learn something new about you?” she narrowed her eyes. 
“Only if you tell me more about your stupidity,” he grimaced at her. 
The smile disappeared from her face, and she lowered her eyes. The gear lever became more fascinating than anything else around. “My ex-boyfriend sold me to the lab,” she said timidly. 
“What?” his foot pressed on the break, the car coming to a halt. There was a stop sign that he almost didn’t see. “What the fuck?” He turned left on another road and continued driving to Salem. 
“I was barely nineteen when he found me and gave me a roof and food. He, Mars, was the leader of the group - Void.” She wasn’t ready to tell the story out loud. The fear of him judging her would be unbearable. Charles was sympathetic. Not a hit of judgement came out of his voice. Maybe Logan would be the same? “I’ve spent there almost four years before it went to shit.”
“Void? It sounds like Magneto’s ‘Brotherhood’,” Logan stated. 
“The Void consisted of mutants and humans. It was basically a criminal group. We would steal money, cars and do all sorts of shit,” she shook her head. “I am not proud of that part of  my life.” 
“What happened?” he was curious. 
Y/N huffed and closed her eyes. “Mars, such a weird name, could hypnotise people, manipulate them as he liked. He was a mutant. I didn’t know about it. Many of us didn’t. He used it to his advantage. He would force people to do things for him, even torture innocent people.
“At this point, I cannot be sure what was my own doing and what was his. All I know is he had me in the palms of his hands. It took some sweet nothings and a little attention, and this bitch,” she pointed at herself,  “fell for him.”
“So, you were in love,” Logan said after a while. 
“I think, I don’t know. Let’s say I was, but it was one-sided. Mars used me, used my power to protect him. He gave me some attention and fell for it.” She bit her lower lip, nervousness spreading over her body. “During that time with him, I did unspeakable things.” 
Logan noticed it was difficult to talk about that part. She twiddled her thumbs. “Why did he sell you to the lab?”
Y/N scratched her nape. “When I found out that he was a mutant and what was his ability - yes, it took me four years - I wanted to run away and never look back. Of course, being the stupidly brave woman I am, I went to confront him. Mars was one step ahead of me.
“The last thing I remember was hands holding me tight, pulling me away from him. They got me off guard and injected me with a drug. When I gained consciousness, I was locked in a cell. And thus started my five-year life as a lab rat, moved at least seven times around the country.” 
“Damn,” said Logan. 
“Dumb, blind, naive - that’s all I can say about myself. Lessons were learned. I thought about killing him, you know? A person like him doesn’t deserve to live. Who knows how many girls he had used since he sold me?” 
“If you had the chance, would you?” Logan asked, curious to know the answer to that. 
It took her a minute to admit it. “Yes. I would.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out a black hair elastic. Her hands worked fast, and she brushed her hair into a bun. Some strands framed her face.  When her eyes found Logan staring at her, she gave him a faint smile. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all,” he admitted. “I’d do the same thing. Hell, I did it in the past. I killed people who used me and betrayed me. The list of people whose life I ended is long. I promised myself I’d never kill again. I quickly realised that’s not how it works in this world.” 
“You’d do anything to survive,” she added after that. “I did. You know the saying - I’d kill for love. And I did. Uh, maybe. I don’t know. Whether I did or didn’t, it doesn’t matter. There is blood on my hands. I have to live with that.” 
A gas station came into their view. Logan turned the car and parked on a free spot next to the building. “I’ll fill the tank, and then we can continue.” 
Y/N unfastened the seatbelt and stepped outside. She stretched her limbs. She went inside the building and bought two water bottles and a chocolate. As she was walking out, her eyes captured Logan filling the tank. Her eyes travelled over his body, admiring how well-built he was. Out of nowhere, her lips slightly curved up. There was a warm feeling in her lower stomach and even excitement. Where did that come from? 
He noticed. Logan saw her standing behind the glass door, holding the bottles and smiling at him. He flared his nostrils and moved his eyes away. Logan moved inside to pay for the gas just as Y/N walked out to the car. 
She put the bottles and chocolate on the roof. The smell of gasoline lingered around the place. One cigarette or a match, and the station would explode. Where was her mind going with this? 
“Hey there, pretty girl.” Two unknown men approached her. They were tall, one was bold, and the other had short dark hair. “Wanna hang out?” 
She hated this. Why did men need to talk to women when they were not interested? She glared at them. “No, thanks.” 
“Oh, come on, sweets.” 
She squinted at them. “I think you have trouble accepting when someone says no.” 
“Mouthy,” one laughed. “I like that.” 
“I suggest you leave me alone before-”
“Before what, sugar?”
Logan walked out, and his eyes fell on Y/N and two douchebags talking to her. “What the fuck?” he mumbled and walked straight to her. Instinctively, he stood behind her, giving the men death glares. “Can I help ya, fellas?” 
Y/N could feel Logan’s body heat radiating. He stood close to her, his front almost touching her back. She smirked, loving how the men’s faces paled. They stepped back. 
“I thought so,” Logan’s hand rubbed Y/N’s right shoulder and then walked around the car. 
Y/N winked at the men and stepped inside the car, smiling. She looked at Logan, who already had a cigar in his mouth, lighting it up. “Thanks.” 
“Eh, don’t mention it,” he said. 
They had another hour and a half before they reached Salem. Either they were silent, or they talked about random things. Y/N could still feel Logan’s touch on her shoulder, lingering there gently. 
“Will you tell me something about you?” she asked an hour later. “I told you about my stupidity. I’d like to know more about you. That is if you are willing to share.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’ve said you killed a lot of people. Can you tell me more?” 
She noticed how he flinged. She must have hit a tough spot. Y/N wanted to apologise. Logan decided to tell her more. “I’ve seen wars, fought in them even.”
“Wars?”
“First World War, Second World War,” he answered. 
Y/N’s mouth almost fell to her lap. “Wait, what do you mean?” 
“I was born in 1832,” he announced. Watching Y/N’s face change a few times was amusing. 
“No shit,” she didn’t believe him. “You cannot be over 170 years old. You look not older than 35.” 
“I ain’t lying, bub,” he grinned at her. 
Y/N’s mouth kept moving. No words came out. Many thoughts were running through her mind. Her whole body turned to him. “Okay, it makes sense when I know about your regenerative healing factor. I didn’t think it would make you immortal.” 
“I wouldn’t say I am immortal,” he took a drag from the cigar. The air filled with its heavy smell. “I once was a boy who grew up, and then, the ageing slowed down until it stopped, or I think.” When he looked at her, Y/N’s mouth kept hanging open. He put two fingers under her chin and helped her close her mouth. “Careful, or something will fly in there.” 
Their eyes met. Logan’s fingers rested under her chin longer than necessary. When he pulled away, she wanted to scream to put them back there. 
“So, both wars,” she tried to resume the topic. 
He wrinkled his nose. “Civil war, Korean war.” 
“Holy shit.” 
“Here’s the thing -  I don’t remember much. At some point, before I even came to the school, I lost my memory. Charles helped me restore some. There are big chunks of my past I still don’t know. I have concluded that it’s for the better.” 
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said. 
“No, it’s fine,” he waved a hand. “If you can share bits and pieces, so can I.” 
When they arrived in Salem, it was after midnight. Logan decided to park the car farther away from the lab. It wouldn’t be wise to drive all the way there. Once they left the vehicle, they walked through a calm residential district. The lab was around a ten-minute walk from there. 
The air got colder, and the moon got lost behind the clouds. The wind rose. There were signs it was about to rain. 
“We’ll keep it simple, Y/N,” Logan started to talk, explaining the plan. “We will look around the perimeter and map the surroundings. We count the guards and the security cameras and then leave.” 
“What if-”
“No,” he stopped her. “I will not let you risk your life without a back-up. Last time, the place was packed with armed men. I don’t think that changed since then.” 
There was no point in arguing. “Fine.” 
When they approached the facility, the place looked almost similar when she left it. There was a part of the building demolished. It used to be her escape window. One of the locked mutants wrecked that side with their ability. And yet, it brought her a lot of unpleasant memories. Her stomach turned upside down. 
Together, they moved around the demolished side until they were met with an entrance gate. “What the shit?” Logan mumbled. At the gate were only two men with guns. “Last time, there were twenty of them,” he stated. “The roofs were covered with them. Now nothing.” 
Shouting came out of the demesne. Then, there was the sound of an engine. Logan grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her to him, making them hide behind a thick tree. He kept her close while they watched a military truck exit the facility. 
“The boy is not here,” Logan stated. “This place is not what it used to be a few weeks back. It’s strange. We got satellite pictures a few days ago, and this was still a highly secured facility.”
When the truck was gone, they moved forward. The wall that surrounded the building was destroyed in many places. They would be able to get with ease. Y/N’s eyes travelled around the building. She knew a way in. She could still remember the interior. 
“We should go. The boy is not here,” Logan ordered, reaching for her arm. 
“No, wait,” Y/N stopped him. “I think this is the perfect opportunity to go inside. So far, there are not many guards. The lab, where they kept us, is underground. At least, that was a month ago. We have the perfect opportunity to look around.” 
He gritted his teeth. “I told you I will not risk your life. It is dangerous.” 
“Then stay here,” she talked back. “I’m here. I need to know. Even if it is only a little bit.” 
Y/N started to run away from him, heading to the fallen wall that was not guarded by the men. Logan cursed under his nose. What was he expecting? That woman was stubborn as hell. Before he lost her, he decided to follow her. His conscience wouldn’t let him let her go alone.
Y/N was careful when she entered the estate and ran to the demolished part of the building. Peeking inside, she saw a destroyed room filled with bricks, wood and damaged furniture. The interior was dark. There was nothing useful for her. Her eyes noticed light coming from the other side. It was a hallway leading further into the compound. 
Her feet automatically took her there. She walked over the bricks and stones until she reached the hallway entrance. If she remembered correctly, it led to a security room. 
A hand gripped her above her elbow and pulled her back. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Her eyes found angry Logan standing close to her. 
“There is a security room down the hallway,” she whispered. “We will be able to see more.” 
“I am so pissed right now,” he growled. “We had a deal.” 
“If I see a chance, I will take it,” she spat back, trying to keep her voice low. “Now let me go. Please. I must know more.” 
As much as he hated it, Logan let her go. His claws got out, ready to be used if necessary. Logan walked close behind her, protecting her back. They reached the end of the hallway. 
“Shit,” she cursed. There were dead bodies on the floor, covered in blood. It felt like a slaughter room. The scent of copper hit her nose, and she wrinkled it. She observed the dead bodies and discovered they had many bullet wounds on their bodies. It was all fresh. “We’re not alone.” 
Logan started to sniff the air, sensing something was off. Y/N approached the screens and looked at all the cameras installed around the place. There was another military vehicle outside that they didn’t notice. More men surrounded it. They wore different uniforms than the dead men in the security room.
“They are here for something,” she commented as her eyes drifted from one screen to another. “They are here for JJ,” she gasped when she found a screen with JJ’s cell. 
Logan got to her to see with his own eyes. The eleven-year-old was sitting in the middle of a cage, visibly distressed. He had a white gown on. No other mutants were present. As they watched, they saw men come to him, pointing guns at the innocent child. 
Unexpected. That’s how it could be described. How was it possible that the last time Y/N saw him, they wanted to take him away, and now, he was here? None of this made sense. 
“Shit,” Logan gasped. He pointed at one of the soldiers who was closest to the camera. “They work for Trask. If they take him, he’ll sure be dead by the end of the week.” 
That was the push Y/N needed. Logan didn’t have the chance to react when she ran away from him, heading outside to the other military track. She was sure it was waiting there for JJ. 
Anger filled her veins, her whole body. Last time, she couldn’t help him escape. He got her out. She was too weak to return the favour. This time, Y/N was determined to get him out and destroy anyone who would dare to stop her. The deal she made with Logan was out the window. 
Y/N ran outside but hid behind the closest corner, watching. She waited for the window of opportunity. At least ten men kept guarding the vehicle. The back door was opened. Her heart was beating rapidly. Adrenaline was high. Fear knocked on the back of her head, telling her to run away and never look back. 
She potted JJ coming out of the building with a thick collar around his neck. The boy was almost bald and alarmingly bruised. Two big men guarded him by holding his shoulders from each side. Another three men were walking behind them, guns ready to shoot him in his head. 
What can she do with her protective power? It has some offensive moves, Y/N remembered the Professor’s words. They echoed inside her mind. She thought back to when her ability turned deadly. 
One last breath, and she ran towards the heavily armed men. The moment they discovered her presence, their guns were up, pointing at her. Y/N wrapped her body into a protective shield and rammed the men with it. 
Bullets were pointless. They weren’t able to penetrate the protective veil of blue. Y/N turned on her heel and faced the rest of the men. As much as they tried, no one could get through the forcefield. 
Two men grabbed JJ and moved with him away from the fight while the rest of them did everything in their power to kill Y/N. She kept knocking down the men like a house of cards. And then a roaring shout came from the right side. Logan’s claws penetrated the men’s bodies, slicing through them. Some managed to shoot him. 
“No,” Y/N shouted. For a moment, he forgot he was indestructible. And yet, she worried about him.
The usage of forcefield was draining her energy fast. The more she held it on, the weaker her body became. She ran towards the men who got JJ. “Let him go!” she screamed at them. “He’s a child!” 
They threw the boy on the ground hard, making him cry in pain. That’s when Y/N noticed the colourful bruises around his face, arms and legs. He looked sick and beaten. The gun was now pointed directly at his head. “Make a step, and I will kill him in front of your eyes!” 
Y/N didn’t make a move. Her eyes were fixed on the boy. “Let him go,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s just a child. An innocent child that hasn’t lived enough.” 
Once Logan killed the last man, he walked closer to Y/N and the men. His adamantium claws were covered in blood, as were his t-shirt and the unbuttoned flannel shirt. When he discovered how the boy was close to being shot, he stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily. 
“Y/N,” JJ whispered her name. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Y-you came for me?” 
It broke her heart to see him like this. “Of course,” her voice shook. Her eyes moved back to the soldiers. “Let-him-go. I won’t ask again.” 
“No,” the soldier said strictly. “If you want the boy to live, you will let us leave with him.” 
The forcefield started to glitch a little. Everyone noticed it. Y/N had to focus harder to keep herself protected. One mistake and she could end dead. 
“What do you want with him?” Logan asked instead.
“That’s none of your business, mutant,” he barked. 
Y/N thought about her next move. Her head turned to bloodied Logan, who was breathing heavily. His body was ready to fight. The veins popped out of his neck and forearms. She sighed. Y/N got them into this mess, and she didn’t know what to do. 
“We need back up to Salem’s lab,” her ears registered one of the men talking to a walkie-talkie. “We have two other mutants on our radar. They are trying to get the boy. 
Her eyes blinked a few times. She didn’t have much time left. Y/N kept breathing through her nose. Deep inhale and long exhale. 
“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s concerned voice. 
Focus on the object you want to wrap in the forcefield and send the energy flying to it. That’s what the Professor told her last week during her training. Picture it. Project the vision onto it. 
Her eyes locked on JJ, who was shivering on the cold ground. With that collar around his neck, he looked like a slave. She could feel his fear. All she wanted was to protect him, keep him safe from this fucked up world. Her right hand stretched forward. In her mind, she pictured the boy wrapped around the veil, protecting his soul and body. 
That’s when she felt the energy leaving her body and covered the boy in a light blue and silver veil. For the first time, she created a forcefield around another person. When it happened, the man shot a bullet at him. It got absorbed into it. 
It was Logan’s cue to bolt out of his place and kill both of those fuckers who dared to hurt Y/N or the boy. Blood splashed around them, covering the grass and Logan. It took him a few slices, and it was over. Every soldier who wanted to kill them was dead. 
“Fuck,” Logan cursed and retracted the claws back under the skin. His eyes moved to the forcefield wrapped around the boy and glitching around her. She created two at the same time.
Y/N’s eyes got heavier. Something warm tickled her upper lip. She broke the energy. The veil disappeared from her and from the boy. She exhaled the last breath she held. Her knees gave up, and she fell to the ground. Her head was spinning. She felt this weak before when she escaped the lab. 
“Y/N,” Logan called her name when he fell to his knees next to her. He ran to her the moment she went down. He lifted her head and noticed her nose bleeding heavily. His big hands brushed her cheeks. He put a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at me, bub. Come on, look at me.” 
“I’m,” she started to talk but failed. She gulped loudly and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” 
“You’re bleeding,” he wiped the blood with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. It didn’t help much. “Can you walk? We need to move. More will come. We must leave.” 
She blinked a few times. “Yeah, I guess. Get JJ, and we can go.” 
Logan helped her to her feet and made sure she was stable. He turned to the boy who was kneeling on the ground watching them. “You alright, kid?” he eyed the child, checking if he wasn’t bleeding as well. Fear was evident on his face. “I will not gonna hurt ya,” his voice got softer. 
JJ got up on his feet and ran towards Y/N, throwing himself into her weak embrace. “You came for me,” he cried. 
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” her voice broke, and she kissed his head. “You are safe now, JJ. Logan and I will take you to a safe place.”
As much as he hated to ruin the moment, Logan stepped to them. His ears registered the sound of helicopters in the air. “We need to move. Now.” 
Y/N grabbed the boy’s hand, and they ran away from the facility and into the woods. Logan was two steps behind them, making sure they were moving. His eyes were more fixed on Y/N than on the boy. 
Suddenly, her body bumped into a tree. She had to stop and take a few breaths. Everything was shaking, and her vision got blurry. “Shit,” mumbled. She looked at the boy, then at Logan, frowning. Why were there two of each? 
The woods spun in front of her eyes. It took her a few seconds before she pushed her body off the tree and moved. Her hand never let go of JJ. This time, Logan’s arm found her waist. He kept it there for support. He didn’t want her to fall or hurt herself anymore. He could smell how drained she was. Logan held her until they reached the residential district.
“You good?” he asked her when they slowed down. 
“Just weak,” she replied. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve never held the forcefield for this long.” 
“You projected it around the boy, also. That’s a huge step,” he patted her shoulder. “I’m still pissed at ya,” he added.
“Sorry, not sorry.”
Logan turned around, eyes scanning the woods behind them. His instinct told him to move and leave. He smelled more soldiers searching for them. To their luck, the car was closer than anticipated. He unlocked the car and opened the door for the boy. “Get in,” he ordered. 
Y/N climbed into the passenger’s seat and closed the door with a loud thud. She moaned. The sound was too painful. Once Logan got in, they were on their way away from Salem and back to the school. 
The tension inside the car could be felt until they were far away from the residential district. All of them relaxed when they connected to a main road. 
Y/N reached for her backpack and took out her denim jacket. She took off her hoodie and handed it to JJ. “Put this on so you’re not cold.” 
“Thanks,” he sniffled a little and grabbed the hoodie. He was only wearing a thin white robe covered in dirt. His legs were exposed, and he was bare feet.
Logan saw what she was doing, so he turned on the heat inside the car. Y/N grabbed a bottle she bought at the gas station and handed it to JJ. Then she gave him a piece of the chocolate. “Here, drink and eat some chocolate. It’s all I have now.” 
She watched him from the rear-view mirror, drinking the water and eating the chocolate. Her shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled loudly. As if the stress escaped her body when she saw him alive and well. 
“Everyone’s gonna be pissed,” Logan stated after a while. His eyes were on the road, here and there, checking the boy in the mirror. 
“I don’t care,” Y/N whispered. Her body rested against the car seat, eyes closed. “We didn’t plan on this.”
“Sure,” he scoffed. 
“No, we didn’t,” she opened her eyes and glared at him. “I would have left if it weren’t for the fact that soldiers from Trask came for him. Besides, if I didn’t intervene, we would have lost him forever.” 
“You don’t-”
“You said it yourself,” she snapped. “If they took JJ, he’d be dead by the end of the week. This was our chance. I don’t care that you are upset, disappointed or whatever. It had to be done.” 
Logan hit the steering wheel out of frustration. “Goddamit, Y/N. It was reckless to head inside without thinking. It could have gone to shits if there were more men.” 
“Enough,” she stopped him. “It’s done. We have him. He’s alive, and we made it out of there. End of story.”
Y/n turned her head to the other side. It was a sign that the conversation was over. She noticed a faint reflection of herself in the window. There was dried blood under her nose, lips and chin. She tried to wipe it off with the sleeve of her denim jacket. It didn’t work much. 
“W-who are you?” they heard the boy’s soft voice. He was still afraid. 
“Logan,” he said. 
“Y-you have claws,” JJ stated. “So you are like us, right?” Logan only grunted. “Where are you taking me?” 
Y/N turned around and faced the boy. She put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for his cheek and stroked it. “We are taking you to a safe place for people like us. It’s a school for mutants.”
“School?” his eyes sparkled. “There is a school?”
“Yes,” Y/N nodded. “You will be able to live there and learn. Many children are living their lives there. They helped me, too. Logan saved me when I escaped the lab.” Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hold the cry but couldn’t. “I’m sorry I left you there. I’m so sorry, JJ.”
His smaller hand reached for her hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. You came back.” 
“No, no, it’s not,” she cried. “You got us out. I will be forever thankful for that. It upsets me that I couldn’t do the same for you that day. It took me a month.” 
Logan felt the pain in Y/N’s voice. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back and not reach for her. The anger he felt was gone. Logan wanted to put her into his arms and protect her whole being from the world. When he saw the tears running down her face, he sighed. His right hand reached for her face, and his thumb wiped off the tears under her left eye. 
Her eyes met his. The touch was gentle, filled with something unspoken, new. “He’s fine. We got him out.” 
All she managed to do was to nod. 
“How long until we are there?” Jerome asked. 
“Four hours,” Logan answered when his hand left Y/N’s cheek and turned his attention back to the road. “Rest, kid. We have a long way ahead.” 
He wrapped his arms around his body, trying to warm himself faster. Y/N’s hoodie helped. He even put the hood over his head. It yanked the collar around his neck. “What about this thing?” 
Y/N observed the device. There was a small green light. It meant it was on. “We’ll figure it out once we are at school. They will get it off you.” 
“What does it do again?” Logan asked. 
“It suppresses our mutation. JJ cannot use his power while the collar is on,” Y/N explained. 
“I can use the claws to slice through it,” he suggested. 
Jerome’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “No,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous. We don’t know what would happen if you’d try to destroy it like that.” 
“Okay. We’ll let Hank and Jean have a look at it. They will figure something out.” 
153 notes · View notes
softspaceboibrian · 11 months
Text
Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago || Jamie Tartt
Chapters: 1 - more to come
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Y/N - Social Media Manager for AFC Richmond || I used she/her pronouns, but there is no actual physical description, so the pronouns can be switched with whatever anyone wants or prefers!
Summary: When Y/N received that email, she couldn't believe it. He was coming back.
Warnings: maybe some swear words. hints and mentions of sexual acts (still SFW). S1 Jamie Tartt aka a dick. a little angsty. Sam being is lovable self.
Characters: Jamie Tartt, Sam Obisanya, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes, Dani Rojas, Ted Lasso, Rebecca Welton. Some others may appear as mentions.
Wc: 3800 (this works as a pilot or a prologue, to set up the story)
A/N: this story is based on this idea I had and that a few people seemed to like. hopefully you enjoy this first chapter/prologue. and if you want to read more, feel free to leave a comment. If enough people like it, I was thinking to do a taglist, so that people can stay updated. anyways, thanks for reading &lt;;3
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When you first heard the news, you couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that they could do such a thing. Not to the team, not to you. That was the reason you were stomping up the stair, the clinking of your heels echoing against the walls, as you reached Rebecca’s office.
You didn’t knock, you didn’t wait for them to welcome you in. They knew you were coming. Especially after the email they had sent out. The email had been sent only to the “necessary” people that needed to be involved, and you, being the social media manager for the club, received it. It was probably a way for them to warn you to start preparing the content for the announcement. But you obviously didn’t take it well. They knew about your history, they knew how things had gone down. They had to be expecting you.
“How could you?” Your loud, clear voice, full of anger and disappointment filled the room.
“Good morning, Y/N!” Ted’s cheerful greeting made you want to scream. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” The sarcasm was obvious.
“How could you? After what he did to the team? After what he said about you?” Your tone was loud, so much so that you were sure people from downstairs could clearly hear every single one of your words. “How could you?” You choked on your last words, and as you finally met Rebecca’s gaze, you could feel the familiar sting of the tears that threatened to fall, spill, pour.
The woman sighed, getting up from her chair to make her way around the big desk. “Listen, love, he’s a great player. When Ted told me about their talk, I knew we had to get him back.” She explained, walking over to her. “We cannot let our feelings get in the way of the team’s success.”
You shook your head, taking a step back. “I never thought you would become this cynical.”
“I’m not cynical, just rational.”
“It’s all the same thing. He’s a prick. And pricks don’t change.” You were furious. “And it’s not just my feelings, but the team’s feelings. But you obviously don’t remember how he used to treat everyone.” You lingered on that last word, looking briefly at each of them, before turning around and making your way out of the office and down the stairs. “No one understands.” You whisper, your fists so tight you started to feel that burning sensation of your nails leaving marks on your palms.
Keeping your head low, trying to hide the tears streaming down your face, you made your way to the changing room. You knew you couldn’t say anything to any of the boys yet, but still, you needed some comfort. You needed Sam.
You quickly reached the locker room and knocked, waiting for them to give you a sign to let you know you could come in. And, as soon as you opened the door, you ran straight to Sam, immediately burying your face in his chest.
“Hey, Y/N/N. What is going on?” His thick Nigerian accent immediately bringing comfort to you. “Did something happen?” He asked as he tried to pull away slightly, trying to understand what was happening.
“Just… hug me… please.” You pled, the voice muffled by his jersey. And he did. He wrapped his arms around you, softly placing a kiss on top of your head, before laying his chin in the same spot. You’re immediately comforted by the warmth of your best friend’s embrace. However, you didn’t fail to notice how the familiar chatter of the changing room had started to slowly simmer down until it ultimately came to a halt. A sense of pain and anxiety washed over you at once, and your head started again to fill with the same questions you had asked Rebecca and Ted. Why? Why him? Why now? How could they?
But soon, your stream of thoughts was interrupted by Isaac’s voice. “Who do we have to kill?” You didn’t need to raise your head from Sam’s chest to know that the feeling was shared by most if not all the team’s players.
“No one. Yet.” You mumbled, sniffling. “It’s complicated.” You added as you finally pulled away from Sam, yet still remaining extremely close to him, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you sane and calm at that moment.
“When the moment comes, just call, okay?” You gave a quick nod to the team captain, accompanied by a shy smile. To any casual passer-by, the comment may have seemed sarcastic, the usual banter between friends that care about each other. But the team knew that that was not sarcastic at all and that Isaac would indeed, without a shadow of a doubt, kill someone for you.
You couldn’t exactly remember when, but somewhere down the line, the team had become your chosen family. However, you could clearly remember how that process had started.
You had started working for AFC Richmond around the same time that Ted and Coach Beard did. You didn’t care much for football or sports in general, but you had just recently graduated from university and had found this work through Keeley. You and her had met at your cousin’s going away party a few years before, when he had decided to move to Greece to become an archaeologist. You had immediately bonded over who can even remember what, and remained close friends ever since. So, when she heard that the position had just opened up, she immediately sent your CV to Rebecca, without warning you first. You found out about the job only when you received a call from a certain Mr Higgins, who told you that they had read your curriculum and found it really interesting. And so, you ended up moving to Richmond-upon-Thames and started working for the club.
It didn’t take you long to get to know the team and become friends with them. Obviously, you had your prejudices against footballers, who you thought were self-centred egomaniacs – and you weren’t completely wrong about that – but, to your surprise, most of them turned out to be great people. You quickly became very close with Sam; Roy tolerated you; Isaac and Colin were always kind to you. Even Jamie Tartt, the prick of the team, would usually drop his dickhead persona when he was with you. And that was how you two ended up together. For the first month or so, you would notice his constant flirting, but you never really gave it too much thought. You had read about him in the tabloids, and you knew how he was famous for having a different girl every week. You weren’t that oblivious, you knew he was fit. But, every time he would flirt with you, you would play along for a while, before brushing it off and going back to your business. I’m just his latest challenge, he will move on sooner or later, you thought. Until, roughly a month and a half after you had started working there: he started waiting for you outside the clubhouse, asking you if you needed a ride home. Which then turned into him asking you to grab a coffee with him one day before practice. Then it was dinners. Movie nights at his place. Stolen glances in the hallways of the clubhouse. Sneaking in the boot room to secretly make out. And sooner than you could realise, you were sleeping over at his place most of the time.
You asked him to keep things private for a while. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him. You just needed to be sure about him. So, you kept sneaking around. Avoiding each other as much as possible, too worried that the team might just figure it out. Let me show you off, Jamie would whisper into your ear, in-between wet kisses, as he stood behind you in the kitchen in the morning, wrapping his arms around your waists. Let me take you out to a restaurant, on a proper date, he insisted. But you kept declining his offers. Not yet, baby, you would reply, as you slowly melted under his touch, I need a little more time, you said as you turned around in his arms. And the conversation would die there, with Jamie immediately picking you up and placing you on top of the kitchen counter, his lips trailing their way down your neck, your collarbone, your chest, down, down, until your vision turned hazy and you had to grip onto the marble countertop with all the strength you had in your body, too afraid you might fall off of it, as his lips met finally met your core.
You were able to keep your relationship private longer than you had expected. It was after almost 4 weeks that Nate eventually walked in on you two in the boot room. You weren’t doing anything too private, you were merely making out. But Nate being Nate, froze on his feet as he saw you two holding onto each other, too stunned to move. I was… I needed to… sorry… I didn’t…. As usual, he was too embarrassed to form a complete sentence, so he simply left the room. You two looked at each other and knew that it was only a matter of time before your secret would be out. And you were right. The secret didn’t last the entire day, and when it was time to go home after practice, you were met by a horde of football players, asking you when it had started, how long had that been going on, if you two were official, and so on.
Somehow, but still not completely unexpectedly, the news reached the press in less than a day. The next morning, as you lied in bed with Jamie’s head on your chest, you were woken up by the constant buzzing of your phone. Check this article from The Sun, said a message from your high school friend, with a link attached to it. Is it true? Asked your mother. Congratulations! read the message from your aunt from whom you hadn’t heard in ages. And the messages kept coming. Yes, it was true. You were now in a relationship. Yes, your boyfriend was a famous footballer. Yes, you knew about his fame. Still, you didn’t care. Because, when Jamie was with you, he wasn’t Jamie Tartt, star striker for AFC Richmond, but just Jamie. And you loved just Jamie. He was sweet, he was passionate, he was kind, he always made sure you were feeling well, he brought you flowers once a week, he left some coffee for you in the pot in the mornings, he always made sure you were sexually satisfied – something he was really proud of.
Sadly, you hadn’t realised that, with going public, also came the hate from his fans, who thought that you would be too distracting for their beloved favourite player, and from the girls, the actresses, the top models, the reality tv stars, who had hoped to one day end up with him and whose dream you had shattered overnight. You pulled through it, and that was also thanks to Jamie, who never missed the chance to remind you how much he loved you and cared for you.
However, two months after going public, things started to change. You couldn’t understand why if it was something that you had done or said, but he started to become distant, cold. He would invite you less and less over to his place, and when he did, it was mainly to have sex, to ‘release the tension from practice’. And whenever the team lost, the sex would be rough. He was always on his phone, texting, dming, emailing. A part of you knew it was girls he was talking to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it, so you just said nothing and held on. He soon stopped asking you how you were, telling you how much he loved you. You tried asking him what was going on, but he would always deny everything, saying that you were imagining things, that you were just paranoid, and that everything was fine. Fine. Oh, how you came to hate that word. You asked him how he was. Fine. You asked him if he wanted to spend the night together. Fine. You asked him if he wanted to drive to the clubhouse together. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. You hated fine. In Jamie’s language, fine meant if you really have to, or I would rather you left me alone, or I don’t really care. You hated it. And you hated what your relationship had become. But still, something stopped you from leaving him, maybe the hope that soon things would go back to normal, that soon he would go back to being just Jamie.
But that never happened.
And things only got worse when Ted decided to take him out during a match. You knew that Ted was doing it to teach him a lesson, and he was right to want to do so. But as you watched your boyfriend leave the pitch, you knew things would only get worse. So, you stopped constantly looking for him. You stopped texting him every day. You only met when he asked you.
It was in that period that you grew closer to Sam. You could distinctly remember the day he walked into your office to ask you for a few suggestions on how to make his Instagram page more appealing. Instead walked in on you sitting on the floor, with your back against the wall and your hands in your hair. You didn’t even have the strength to pretend things were okay, so you simply looked up, black lines scarring your cheeks, and met his eyes. “Sorry, Sam, it’s… not a great moment.” You struggled to get the words out.
But Sam didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed the door behind him, made his way across the room and took a seat on the floor next to you. “Is it Jamie?” He asked with his thick Nigerian accent that you would grow to love and even find familiar. You nodded silently. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “Do we just sit in silence?” A nod. A beat. Then your head slowly fell to the side, until it found its resting place on his shoulder.
You don’t exactly know how long you stayed there, on the floor, in silence. It could have been a few minutes or entire hours. In either case, Sam stayed there, and didn’t leave your side. He never once took out his phone to check his messages, even though you could feel it buzzing in his pocket. He only changed position once, to move his arm and wrap it around your shoulders. That was the first time you had spent that much time in silence with someone without feeling the need to fill it with superficial chatter.
From that day forward, you and Sam were inseparable. There was something about him that simply brought you comfort, a comfort that not even Jamie had been able to give you. Whenever you weren’t sleeping over at Jamie’s, he would come to pick you up and drive you to work. He would drive you home in the evenings, making sure you were all the way inside your house, before sprinting off the road to go home himself. You would start having lunch together, usually joined by some of the other guys – in all of this, most of the time Jamie was nowhere to be found. And whenever your boyfriend acted like a dick with you in front of everyone, he would speak up. Are you his boyfriend now, Sammy? Jamie would mock him, using your nickname for him. I don’t think so. She’s me girl, so I’ll talk to her how I want, a’ight? He would puff out his chest, trying to look bigger and intimidating.
That evening, after practice was over, Jamie sprinted off to who knows where or to who knows who, leaving you there, alone. And, as per usual, Sam would come to the rescue, offering you a lift home.
“Why are you still with him?” Sam asked you as he stopped in front of your house. “You deserve better, not an asshole like him.”
You shook your head. “He’s not like that when it’s just the two of us.” You would always find a way to make excuses for him.
“I don’t care how he is when he’s alone with you, Y/N! If he really loves you, he should treat you well in public as well!” You had never really heard Sam raising his voice before, and it would have been a lie if you had said that you were not intimidated. But, despite everything, you could feel the care and preoccupation in his voice. “You deserve someone that truly cares for you, and that isn’t afraid to show it!” You knew he was right. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say something, to break up with him.
But you never had to.
It was maybe a week after your discussion with Sam when you showed up unannounced at his place. It was cold outside, and you were only wearing a thick jumper. You stood there, in front of his door for at least three whole minutes, before finally knocking on his door. You knocked instead of ringing the bell so that if he was already asleep, you wouldn’t wake him. But he had heard it, and less than 10 seconds later, he was opening the door.
“Y/N, what are you-” He didn’t even finish his question. He took one look at you and knew exactly what had happened. He took your hand gently in his, and immediately pulled you inside, guiding you to the living room. “Wait here a moment.” He said, making you seat on the couch, before running off in search of a blanket. “Okay, wrap yourself in this while I put the kettle on.” He opened the blanket and put it around your shoulders.
“Stay here, please.” You whispered, grabbing him by the wrist before he could move away again.
“But you’re shivering.”
“Just… please.”
As soon as he met your eyes once again, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He had seen you in distress before, he had comforted you multiple times after your fights with Jamie. But this time he didn’t even need for you to tell him what had happened, he already knew. He took a seat next to you, fixing the blanket so that it was properly covering your entire body, before pulling you to his chest.
“He said that I was too much work.” The words left your mouth watery. “That I asked too much of him. And that, since he was going back to Man City, it was better to call it quits.” You whispered. You could feel Sam’s body tense, the air blowing through his nose. You knew he wanted to say a lot of things. He wanted to tell you that he was a dickhead, that he never realised what he had in front of him, that he had just lost the best woman he could ever find, that he was a moron, a jerk, an idiot, a fool. But he didn’t. He remained silent. And he did the best he could to comfort you. He stroke your hair and your back, he rocked you and hummed to you, until you fell asleep.
After that night, it didn’t take long for the rest of the team to find out what had happened, and how it had happened. Every single one of the boys sent you a text, saying, each in their own way, that they were sorry, that Jamie was a dick, and that they were there for you if you needed them. And you were glad to know so many people cared for you, people that up until a few months ago didn’t even know you and that you would have never expected in your life to end up being friends with. They all stopped and hugged you when they met you in the corridor for the first time after it had happened. But some of them surprised you.
You hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few nights, which was made obvious to everyone by the way you dragged your feet against the floor whenever you walked around the clubhouse, your legs too heavy for your exhausted body to properly move. You had also stopped taking care of yourself. Yes, you showered and brushed your teeth because you hated not being presentable for work. But you had stopped brushing your hair every morning and every night, like your grandmother had thought you when you were little. And you had stopped wearing make-up. Not that you would normally put on a full face every day, but you stopped using mascara because it made your eyes burn whenever you cried, and the light concealer you used under your eyes to make yourself look fresher, more awake. And now your puffy red eyes and dark circles were there, on display, for everyone to see, a reminder of how you were feeling.
That morning you had opted for a very comfortable pair of sweatpants and a warm AFC Richmond hoodie. Using supportiveness as a way to hide your depression. Smart, you thought. Sad. You were sitting in your office, alone, working on the new social media campaign, when suddenly you heard someone knock on your door. “Come in.” You said flatly. As the door opened, you looked up from your laptop, only to see Sam walk in, followed by Isaac, Colin and Dani. “How can I help you, boys?” You forced a smile on your face.
“Want to watch a movie with us tonight?” Asked Isaac, taking the lead. You looked at the quartet in front of you, unsure of what to say. “We can watch whatever sad movie you prefer, and Dani can bring some Mezcal.”
“Boys, I-” You started, but you were instantly cut off.
“Uh-uh!” The Welsh stepped forward. “We don’t want to hear any I’d rather be alone or I don’t want to be a bother bullshit, okay? We want to do this.”
“Yes, we only asked to be nice, but if you say no, we will just kidnap you and force you to do it.” Said Sam, a soft, warm smile on his face, as he leaned over your desk.
“Por favor, Y/N” Dani pled, showing you his big, brown puppy eyes.
“Fine!” You gave in. “On one condition: we order Chinese.”
They all look at each other, before bursting out laughing.
A/N: if you read all the way through, thank you ! feel free to leave a feedback/comment. i would love to know what you think about it and if you would be interested in reading more of this story. let me know if you would like to be put in a taglist for this fic! love you <3
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equestriagirl16 · 2 years
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NRC staff and their guardian status with MC~🌹
Notes: personal headcannons cause I absolutely cannot get enough of the NCR staff being caretakers/parental figures to MC. It’s just so wholesome to me, and a lot of this isn’t new info just my take on said renowned info.
Inspired by: @wolken-himmel @hunniepotts @adrianasunderworld @mashed-potato101
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Dads: Crewel and Crowley
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It’s basically canon at this point that our dear professor would assume the main dad role.
He would have a long history of taking care of “unruly pups”, and having you come around like a lost stray in need of proper training. Well he just couldn’t help himself now could he?
Spoils the hell out of you, yes he would take you out shopping for actual clothes and necessities, yes he would pay for everything, and no you absolutely do not owe him anything in return. Would probably get genuinely upset if you insisted.
Would be the dad to actually remind you, in a reassuring way, that you are in fact a child/young so you really shouldn’t carry the world on your shoulders at least not by yourself.
Fairly overprotective and strict, he only wants the absolute best for and from you. Which means unfortunately you won’t get a sliver of favoritism in class, and no amount of batting eyes or cute little excuses in baby talk is gonna change that. “Well you should’ve thought of that when I specifically gave you a weeks notice before the assignment went out pup.” And then he pats you on the head with his stick(affectionately).
No dating no boys no nothing, in fact no friends. Just spend your time with your loving father figure, he’s sure that’d be much better for your mental health. “I hate men.” “But you are one.” “My point still stands.” He’s spent more time around the student body than you have so he knows, LORD does he know, that plenty of them will leave you worse for wear despite how nice of a person they are. And if anyone, no matter who they might be, leaves his little pup sad and whimpering. He’ll make sure to remind them why he adorns the name of Crewel.
But at the end of the day he absolutely loves you, and you bring a special light in his life too. He may be a little young for it(in his words), but a set of adoption papers happen to make his way on his internet browser more times than he can ignore. Only if you’d like, perhaps he could bring the proposition up in conversation during your next shopping spree.
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Oooooh Crowley, honestly this is mostly because he was the first adult to find you. We all know how this man operates, and yet he’ll insist that he takes care of you like his own child! *looks into the camera*
The man is on the complete other end of the dad spectrum. Ya know instead of responsible and nurturing he’s more so flighty and excitable. Literally just- “We gon need nutrition.” “So your kid likes apple juice?” “Oh no they love orange juice, but they’ve been bad this week.” “What grade is your kid in?” “Sixteenth grade.” “That’s not even a grade!-So they graduated college?” “No they…where is my kid??” He left you in the grocery store…again.
Don’t get him wrong though, he can step up to the challenge when need be, he’s still a whole principal. If anything he’ll at least make sure your academics are in line and your school life is decent, and thankfully he does play favorites!
However he definitely values independence, and just tends to think you can handle things on your own and believes a ton in your potential. Much to both your favor and detriment, sure there’s nothing you can’t handle but that doesn’t mean you should handle it all at once!
Does get serious when the situation calls for it. Like if you’re legitimately broken up about anything, or just in a bad place the secret dad switch in the far reaches of his brain finally switch into hyper gear. He can catch the slightest wind of it, and he’ll be the first one there to comfort you which he’s surprisingly good at. Both in physical comfort and advice, it gets you every single time.
He would never let you know this, nor could you really guess, but he would do anything for you. You mixed up his life in a very unexpected and interesting way, and even if he’s not good at showing it he does love you very much. Man would kill for you. Die for you though? Hmm, give him a sec to think.
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Uncles: Vargas and Sam
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To me he comes off as someone who definitely cares about you but doesn’t show it on as intimate of a level if that makes sense. He’s a gym bro, he shows his affection more in words of motivation and making you run just a few more laps. Cmon, he believes in you!
Obviously he values your physical health, but also because he knows that can translate into mental health. He may not be there for everything but he does what he can in the time he has with you.
Honestly he probably just figures that you already have a lot of people looking out for you, and he doesn’t want to overstep. So he’ll stay in his lane and make sure you’re working at maximum efficiency.
Of course that doesn’t mean he won’t be there for you when you need it. Is also ever so slightly protective, but aims to lift you back onto your feet more than anything. He knows your someone deserving of respect so he’s gonna remind you of that every time he has the chance, and won’t stop until your confidence is through the roof. “Come on, you’re really gonna let them tear you down like that! Remember what I taught you, no one’s strong like Y/N!”
But if you need a hug then maybe, just maybe, he’ll sweep you up and jostle you around until you’re too dizzy to even remember you were sad. You’re a rarity in this world, and you’re just as capable as anyone else. As long as he’s around he’ll never let you forget that.
Also, head pats for days and 100% calls you kid.
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I feel like I barely have to even explain this one. It’s Sam, he’s younger and more extravagant. Not rly dad material, he gives off more older relative/big brother vibes.
He’s got his own stuff going on plus a shop to run, he may not be around you 24/7 but would definitely encourage you to stop by and visit literally anytime. He absolutely loves your company and showing you all his little tips and tricks.
You can guarantee he’d sometimes let you’d off the hook when paying for supplies, for no particular reason at all of course. “I’m closing up shop for the night anyway, now run along little imp ‘fore the shadows get ya!”
Likes teasing you, just playful little pranks and jabs to keep you on your toes. Would never dream of doing anything remotely malicious, even does check-ins if your reaction isn’t the happiest.
Speaking of check-ins, I feel like he’d ask you about how things are going every single time you visit him. Since he’s on the younger side too he’d definitely be more in the know about how to deal with certain things, and give you more down to earth advice. The jump from free spirited shop keep to serious guardian is wild.
Also for any of my black/poc MCs out there, he has your back(especially if you were homesick). Another fully welcomed slice of culture, I have a personal headacannon that he’d be extremely helpful on hair days too. Not to say no one else is, but he would take pride in you sticking close to your roots(heh, get it). As well as picking out really cool styles for you. Maybe even have some spells to let you color it, the possibilities are endless.
A little protective but he doesn’t outright distrust anyone neither believes in shielding you. You gotta fight you’re own battles, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be there every step of the way. When you’re knocked down he’ll pick you right back up, now equipped with a few new tricks up your sleeve. And perhaps on some days many may notice that you have more than one shadow following behind you.
Loves you to death and beyond that, he’ll make sure everyday is full of laughs and you have what you need to stand out from the rest.
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GRANDPA TREIN
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This man has gray hairs, years of wisdom, and put multiple kids through college. He has earned this category.
I want to say since he already has a family of his own he wouldn’t completely take you in, but he’d definitely put you under his wing. Simply put he owns most the brain cells between all the staff, so he’d know not only how to but for your own sake that he should take care of you.
The amount of times he’s had to steer you away from the advice of a certain principal, and to be the guy to refute the extra baggage anybody put on you is ridiculous. “But Crowley wanted me to get the supplies from the town this weekend, and then I have to host a tutoring session with the guys, and run another errand-” “You’re not doing that.” “But-” “No buts, none of it. Now sit down and finish your tea, I fear you’ll collapse if you think for another second.” Firmly believes no one as young as you should be dealing with the sheer amount of bullsh!t you deal with. And trust that he’s seen a lot of it in his time working at that place.
He’s the epitome of responsible caretaker, will set your priorities straight and be very transparent with you. If your getting too distracted to focus on your academics, or putting yourself last after everything/everybody you have to deal with. He won’t hold back, you’re apart of the equation, the most important part.
He’s also very well versed in the emotional aspects of a young ones life too. Sure he’s not the most touchy feely type, but on like a psychological level he understands and gives arguably the best and most proactive advice.
This isn’t his first rodeo, honestly a lot of it is just second nature to him. He just has a lot of sympathy for you and your situation, and despite his demeanor he’s not one to leave a literal stranded child to fend for themselves. He’s a professor not a monster, and of course you remind him a lot of his prime parenting days. Which he’s secretly very fond of.
He won’t say it out loud, well at least not in front of other people. Perhaps during a nice quiet evening in his office he’ll tell you how genuinely proud he is of you and your progress. You’ll always have a means of support in him, but don’t misunderstand him he doesn’t play favorites.(yes he does)
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ataraxiaspainting · 6 months
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Shameless.
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Yan Chrollo x GN Reader.
Synopsis: Chrollo is many things; annoying, chatty, selfish, petty. Especially petty.
Warnings: Yandere themes and kidnapping.
Word Count: 700.
“Petty, much?”
The damn devil doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he turns to the next chapter of his book, a book large enough to easily force you or any other ordinary person into a yearlong coma if it hits your head. His humming physically hurts your ears and almost makes their drums burst, you are sure of it. You would much rather listen to his trill sonata from a gramophone and disc that is at least five times your age.
You cannot find the stuffed animal you normally sleep with. You have been looking all day while this clone of the antichrist just sits and reads in whatever the hell that language on the dusty cover is. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had made it himself, it’s only further proof that he is just an old man on the inside. Or at least half; the other part may as well be a toddler throwing a tantrum. 
Maybe less than half, now that you think about it. That plush was a gift from Chrollo to you, after all, a symbol of how adorable you are or something else in that vein that made his face all the more punchable. The bunny made for a good pillow and could be used as a sort of wall whenever the epitome of hell lays on the bed beside you, trying to converse or cuddle with you. 
It certainly yielded better results than biting, kicking, and hitting him at least. Your knuckles and palms still sometimes hurt. Ow. His flesh is made of iron, you know it. Maybe you should dare him to get his DNA tested to ensure that he is indeed human before speaking with you again. 
You could fake an allergic reaction to automatons perhaps. Even though you were never a drama kid in school you think you can still pull it off. 
You can craft yourself an Emmy using what remains of your old art supplies, though that would require having Chrollo cut the papers and cardboard for you. You bet that if he is a robot, he will eventually use up all his battery by chatting away and then shutting down. 
“What are you, a kindergartener?” You move closer to his unholy throne, stomping with each step forward. “Stop acting like you are eight, you swindler, and give it back.”
It would be easier that way if he went unconscious because of his powerless charge. 
If you are feeling particularly sadistic you could use electric shocks on his unconscious tin can of a body until it explodes. It would be a great thing, the sound. Like fireworks, if you avoid getting stabbed by tiny slabs of hot metal.
“Kindergarteners are ages five to six.” You could picture dreaming of it now if you can go to sleep tonight. “Eight-year-olds are typically in the grades second and third.”
“So you do admit to stealing it, then. This trial has now concluded, you have been sentenced to life without parole.”
You can hear a slight chuckle that makes you want to fall down the stairs while playing jump rope. Anything to make sure you never hear it again. “You get points for effort, darling. That wasn’t a confession, I was just correcting your utterly adorable libel.”
“Don’t talk like that to your judge, you larcenist.”
“I see you have been reading the books I have given you.”
You grumble a curse under your breath as you walk a bit closer. “It is amazing what the human mind can remember from a dictionary when there is nothing better to do. I think if I ever see my literary teacher again she’d be impressed. I’d pass with flying colors if I ever had to retake her class.”
At the sight of your laid-out hand, a slight frown appears on Chrollo’s face. “Being polite never hurt anyone, you know.”
You scoff and cross your arms, not looking at him anymore. “It hurts me every time I say anything to you instead of trying to find out how to give you enough papercuts to make you internally bleed.” 
Underneath the table, you can see the rabbit plush, and crouch down to grab it.
“Take this as an act of precaution then; don’t test my limits, dear.” As soon as you look into his eyes, hugging the stuffed animal, you look away as you see what lies beneath the surface once more. 
Nothing.
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neerons · 7 days
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Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes
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"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)
"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."
“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”
"You succumbed to delusion."
"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"
"...I want to make love to you."
"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."
"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")
"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"
"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."
“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”
"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)
"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"I'm charming, aren't I?"
"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."
"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)
"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)
"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)
"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."
"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"
"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"
"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)
"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)
"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)
"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)
"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."
"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."
"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")
"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."
"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)
Cyran's bonus quotes:
"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)
"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)
"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)
"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)
"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."
"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."
"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."
"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)
"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)
"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)
"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)
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twit-ter-pa-ted · 6 months
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Apple of My Eye
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pairings: vinsmoke sanji x gn!Reader, straw hat crew x gn!Reader
warnings: can be romantic or platonic, can be opla/animanga (but more on animanga), everyone finding out in one fell swoop (thanks to reader), honestly a self-insert, includes the whooolee crew!!
overview: a headcanon wherein sanji has heterochromia, an optic condition where a person has two different colored eyes. moreover, you can't seem to get over those eyes.
a/n: this was inspired by and dedicated to a tiktok (@/drayiskewl) i saw tbh. got love at first sight w the idea. enjoy!
Sanji was cooking while you watched, feet swinging as your seat was too tall for them to be able to reach the floor.
He seemed to have been quite engrossed in his cooking, as he only noticed your staring once he was finished.
"Hm? Anything I can do for you, lovely?" He wiped his hands on the 'I like big buns and I cannot lie' apron the crew had gotten for him on his birthday (partly as a joke, though Luffy gifted it wholeheartedly).
You curiously tilted your head to the left. Wordlessly, he mimicked your action.
Your hand then lifted reluctantly, getting closer and closer to his face. Sanji never had a problem with people getting touchy with him, much less you getting touchy, so he decided to let things play out to see what you would do.
Though, being on the same boat as you for god knows how long surely didn't help him in predicting what you would do next.
You brushed your fingers through his hair, specifically brushing aside his fringe adorned over his eye.
"H-Hey, wait a minute – " His cheeks turned pink while you stared in adoration at his mocha-iceberg eyes.
He tried to take your hand's gentle grasp off his hair. His fumbling came to a stop as he looked at the smile on your face as you looked at his eyes.
He chuckled, almost nervously as if easing himself into the fact that you were seeing his blue eye.
He initially didn't intend to hide it, attempting to casually slip it into conversation if it ever came up as a topic, but it never did. So he figured it didn't matter whether the crew knew or not.
"What, you like them, sweets?"
You grinned. "Yeah-huh. They're pretty." You leaned back onto your seat.
"Well, if I'd known, I'd have constantly pulled back my hair." He humorously pushed his hair back.
"Sanji! Give me food!" Luffy came marching into the kitchen with the demand, then his eyes widened as he saw Sanji's. "Woah! Sanji, is that really your eye?"
He practically jumped on the chef as he kept Sanji's usually hidden eye open to examine it.
"Do you really have to ask that – ?"
"It looks so cool! Can you teach me how to do that? Ooh, food!" He spotted the recently cooked food while Sanji was speaking. His attention quickly averted from the cook's eyes to his dishes.
" – Hold on, Luffy!" Sanji stepped back to bring his foot down onto the captain's head.
"Ow!"
Usopp and Chopper barged into the kitchen in a panicked manner. "Sorry, Sanji! We looked away for one second – woah!"
It was almost as if there were stars in their eyes. "They're so mesmerizing…!"
You chuckled, looking at Sanji's eyes again. "Aren't they?"
Chopper opted to jumping on the counter, though quickly changed his mind as he thought what Sanji's reaction could be to that, so he changed into his human-hybrid form and quickly took out a flashlight and a magnifying glass to examine his eyes.
"I've never seen anyone with this before!" He seemed to be the most fascinated so far. Or perhaps it was just in his nature as a doctor to be curious about it.
Sanji's eyes widened as they darted between you, Usopp, and Chopper. "S-Stop staring, would you?!"
Usopp let out an exclamation. Chopper suddenly recognized that he had jumped into Doctor Mode before thinking and snapped out, returning to his normal, smaller form.
He and Usopp then each grabbed a hold of Luffy's shoulders. It was their turn to keep Luffy out of the kitchen, after all. "S-Sorry!"
The other half of Luffy's body stretched and lagged behind, considering the Straw Hat didn't want to leave, yet soon came hurling out the door and towards the pair that pulled him.
A whack soon sounded as Luffy inevitably collided with the top half of his body, and Usopp and Chopper.
While Sanji started to bake a dessert for the ladies, Franky entered the kitchen. "Hey, curly cook, is the food ready? The ladies and the skeleton are hungry."
"It's almost done, give me a second."
Franky nodded in understanding, then sat on the seat next to you.
"Hey, could you give me some cola?" He requested from the cook.
"Yeah, as long as you promise to leave my kitchen after." Franky let out a small laugh and raised his hands in surrender.
"Hey, wanna see something cool?" You smirked towards Sanji who sighed just as he had reached for the cola bottles in the fridge, already knowing what you were scheming.
"Yeah? What is it?" He prevailed curiously. You reached to push Sanji's hair back again when he approached the counter to set the cola bottles down.
Your smile widened as you looked at Franky's fascinated stare. "Don't they look cool?"
"Oh! I never knew your eyes looked like that. Super!"
Sanji couldn't help but chuckle, never getting used to the crewmate's silliness. "Thanks, Franky. I'm afraid I'm still gonna have to ask you to leave."
"Aw, but why can they stay?" Franky whined, pointing at you.
"Because it's them. I don't really have a choice," he jested before leaning back to smoothly avoid your swinging hand.
Franky laughed as he left the kitchen with the cola bottles.
Sanji quickly finished making the desserts. While settling the plates on the tray, you tugged on his sleeve to catch his attention.
He hummed to acknowledge your attempt. "What is it, darling?"
You held your hands up. "Hear me out – "
One of his curled brows rose with curiosity, then your hands went up to his hair.
You tied his hair up, it currently being long enough to barely settle into a man bun.
Sanji chuckled at your antics, yet went along with it. You searched around and found Nami's mirror, facing it to Sanji. "What do you think? Good?"
Zoro, seemingly recently done with his workout session (though his sweat seemed to have dried) with his towel over his shoulder, passed by and lightly chuckled through his nostrils before Sanji could reply.
"Hmm? I'm in the kitchen?" He asked himself, seemingly unaware of you and the cook being there.
"Yeah-huh," you replied. Zoro only seemed to notice your presence then.
"Nice eyes, idiot cook."
Sanji rolled his eyes and set the mirror down. "Quiet, moss head."
"You look like a broom." Zoro cocked his chin towards Sanji's hair, then smirked. "Broom head."
You couldn't help but chuckle.
Nami entered as if searching for something, or someone.
Her brows shot up when she saw Zoro. "Zoro, I thought you were going for a shower? Luffy was looking for you and I told him you headed to the bathroom. He got there and talked to no one for a solid ten minutes."
"I was gonna go take a shower," he clarified. The room was silent for a moment, waiting for his explanation as to why he was here.
Everyone should have expected his answer – "I got lost."
Your eyes widened, "How do you get lost on your own ship?!"
"Idiot!"
"I can't believe you!"
Still, Zoro waved dismissively before heading back the way he came from.
"That's still not the way to the bathroom…!" Nami shouted after him, but the swordsman had left through the doors. Nami's palm met with her face. "Oh, he is hopeless."
Sanji brushed the situation off and went back to arranging the food.
"Oh, Miss Nami, I'll have the food out in a minute." Nami finally looked at the cook, who was now looking at you to see if it was alright if he were to untie his hair. He did once you gave a reassuring gaze.
Nami's mouth slightly went agape as he approached the cook, pushing his hair back to see if she had seen it correctly. "Hey. Sanji, I never knew your eyes looked like that. They look…!"
He was holding one of the desserts as Nami started complimenting him. You quickly lunged to grab the dessert off his hands when he suddenly collapsed.
You and Nami looked over the counter to check if Sanji was alright. He was, he just became struck by the sudden compliment.
"…I didn't even finish complimenting him."
Food had been served by you by the time Sanji woke up again.
He was surprised to see that you had gotten him to sit at the table and waited for him to wake while the crew ate. You had tied his hair up again.
"Oh! You have such pretty eyes, mine almost flew out of my skull!" Brook exclaimed once everyone had realized he had regained consciousness. "But then again, I actually don't have eyes anymore. I'm all bones! Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!"
Luffy, Chopper, and you were the only ones to chuckle at the skeleton's joke. Robin let out a small chuckle as well, "But how come you've been crewmates for so long, yet you didn't know Sanji had different-colored eyes?"
Luffy somehow grinned while stuffing his mouth full of food. "I didn't ask."
Nami sighed and shook her head. "In case you hadn't noticed, our captain just has a tendency of inviting anyone into the crew."
Zoro nodded in agreement. "It's true. Just look at the cook."
Sanji's brows almost uncurled in fury. "What does that say about you, First Mate?!"
"I must admit," Robin crossed her forearms and prompted an arm to sprout from the top of Sanji's head, its hand brushing his hair out of the way. "they do look…"
Luffy nabbed the cook's food from his plate before Sanji's face planted onto them as he once again fell unconscious.
"…Pretty."
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reader having no experience wiith sex so she asks jake to teach her
The way I saw this in my inbox a couple days ago and I FRRRR cannot stop thinking about it omggg 😩😩😩😩😩😩
You know that your relationship with Jake is different. All your other friends only talk about being courted and taking long walks to talk, getting gifts and giving gifts, making bracelets and hair beads together...they never talk about...it.
You're not really sure what it is, if you're honest. Jake has just always had a different way of doing things, and you simply don't object. He'll touch you under your loincloth until you're moist, he'll lick your nipples until they harden, and then he'll rub at this one spot between your thighs that has you jerking and quivering until the sensation is too much and you feel like you'll die. And then it happens, that wonderful sensation of release that leaves you breathless and gasping, shaking as Jake kisses it all way.
He's done it to you a couple of times, and you've currently found yourself more curious than before to find out what's under his loincloth and if you can make him feel the same.
That's why, one day, when you and Jake are spooning in the forest, far away from the others, and his hands start wandering to your thighs, caressing between them, hinting that he's going to work his magic again, you ask, “Why do you touch me there?”
Jake freezes for a moment before he kisses your shoulder. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” he questions, not unkindly.
You shake your head. “No. I just...don't understand why you do it,” you reply.
“Well, it feels good, doesn't it?”
You nod. “It does, but...why do you never let me touch you?” you question, and Jake chuckles softly.
“Because you don't owe me anything, babygirl,” he tells you, his hands crawling higher, towards your cunt.
You insist, “If I...if I touch you, will it feel good for you, too?”
At this, Jake props himself up on his elbow so he can glance down at your face. “Nobody's ever told you?”
You fold your ears back as you meet his gaze. “Well, they...I mean, uh. I know that two people can mate, I just...don't really understand how it works,” you say. Then, with a sudden idea sparking in your brain, you ask, “Do-do you know?”
Jake nods, caressing a hand down the soft skin of your arm. “I do.”
You swallow, ears folding back before you question, “Can you teach me?”
Jake raises an eyebrow. “You want me to teach you?” he asks. “Not just explain it?”
You shake your head, sitting up and looking him straight in the face. “I want to do it,” you tell him. “I want to do it with you.”
Jake's pupils widen, his ears perked as he studies you with care. “You're serious,” he says, sounding almost surprised.
You nod. “I am. Can you teach me?”
Jake smiles softly, a cocky, sexy smile. “If you insist,” he says.
You offer him an excited little grin before your eyes trail down his body. “You've seen me bare so many times,” you start, caressing one of his thick thighs, slowly gliding higher, and Jake's eyes turn predatory as they watch you. “But I've never seen you bare.”
Jake's ears twitch, as if the words were unreal. “Are you sayin' you wanna see me, baby?”
You nod somewhat shyly, eyes big and eager, and Jake smirks. He stands, towering over you, and undoes his loincloth. He allows the garment to fall away, and your eyes fall on his cock, long and hard, the head growing a dark blue, a shiny bead of liquid forming on the tip.
You glance up at him, curious, and ask, “Can I touch it?”
Jake smirks. “You've got it all hard and excited, 'f course you can touch it, girl.”
You crawl closer to him, kneeling in front of him and resting your ass on your ankles before you raise one of your hands to him. You're timid in the way you touch him, fingers caressing the thick head. You're surprised when it jerks at your touch, and you glance up at him, amazed.
He chuckles at the look of awe across your face. Such an innocent, inexperienced little thing. And Jake, so ready to corrupt you.
You run a finger up his underside, making Jake inhale sharply, before you slowly wrap your hand around him. Jake's watching you, cock pulsing in your grasp.
As a sudden idea overcomes you, you lean toward Jake and press a soft, light kiss to the tip, tasting the salty liquid that oozes from it.
Jake hisses quietly and you can't glance away from him. For some reason, doing this has you wet between the thighs, just like when he touches you.
“I feel funny,” you tell him, your cheeks blushing. “Feels like when...when you touch me between the legs. But you're not touching me, and I'm all wet.”
At this, Jake groans, the mere idea driving him crazy. “Well, baby, that's why I'm so fuckin' hard,” he tells you. “I can help you without using my hands or my mouth. Just with my cock.”
You look surprised. “How?”
Jake smiles down at you. “I can show you. But first, I need you to lie down f'r me and spread your legs wide, 'kay?”
You agree, lying on your back and spreading your legs, hastily removing your loincloth and tossing it aside. Jake kneels on the ground between your thighs, one of his hands falling to your cunt and tracing a finger between your folds.
You hum softly, quietly, and Jake says, “'m gonna put a finger in you, alright?”
You meet his gaze. “Inside?” you ask him, and he nods.
“I promise it won't hurt, baby. I'll be gentle, and if you want me to stop, you just have to tell me, alright?”
You nod. “Okay,” you tell him, your voice breathy.
He touches an unexplored part of your cunt, so close to where that ache spreads from your womb. He prods at the entrance softly, slowly, gathering all that wetness before pushing his middle finger into you.
The feeling sends a shock of relief through you and you gasp, pussy clenching around his finger. Jake watches your reaction, carefully studying you in case you want him to stop. Instead, you beg, “Deeper. Please, this feels s'good!”
He chuckles, pushing his finger as deep in as it'll go, until his knuckle is pressing against your folds.
You close your eyes as Jake begins curling his finger upward, touching a spongy spot inside you that has you squirming. He's never put his fingers inside you before, and you wish he had. It feels so amazing, you can't believe you've been missing out on this.
“I-I don't understand,” you say through the haze of pleasure. “What does this have to do with your...with your cock?” The moment you say the word, you blush, your cheeks darkening and your ears flattening against your head.
Jake laughs softly. “You're so adorable,” he says quietly. Then, he replies, “I can put my cock in you, baby, and it'll feel even better.”
You open your eyes, meeting Jake's thick gaze, and ask, “You'll put it inside?”
Jake nods. “If you want me to, baby. Only if you want me to. Don't feel pressured, mkay?”
You say, “I'm not pressured. I-I want you inside.”
Jake pulls his finger out of you before saying, “Are you sure, girl?”
You nod, spreading your legs some more, your soaked cunt on display for his starved gaze. “Please,” you say softly.
Jake nods gently. He runs the head of his thick cock between your folds, watching your reaction, and then slowly, he pushes into you.
At first, it's a little painful, the way the thick head forces you apart, but once the tip is in, pleasure sparks through you, making you gasp. His girth glides deep inside you with ease, soft and slow, and you arch your back at the feeling of fulness he offers.
“Oh, Goddamn,” Jake grunts when the head of his cock meets your cervix. “Fuck, girl. This pussy's so fuckin' sweet.”
You mewl, mind lost to the ecstasy, unable to even reply from how full you feel. And then Jake starts thrusting into you slowly, making you jerk, your hands reaching for him.
Jake chuckles quietly as he cages your body under his. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him. You snake your tongue into his mouth, making him smile against you, softly biting your tongue as it meets his.
You buck your hips up to meet his, his heavy cock pulsing within you. One of Jake's hands wanders to your pussy, playing with your clit, and you gasp.
You pull away from the kiss and say, “Can you—can you go faster?”
Jake smirks as he increases his speed, his hips slamming against yours, the sound of skin on skin loud in the atmosphere. You moan, the pleasure spreading through you, warm and gentle, building up slowly.
You arch your back, whimpering, and Jake says, “'s good, isn't it? My cock so deep inside your pretty cunt.”
You nod, nails digging into the skin of his back, and you wrap a leg around his waist, forcing him deeper. You gasp as the tip threatens to push past your cervix, to fuck right into your womb.
“Try talkin' for me, girl,” he says. “Try answering me, yeah?”
You whine. “I—I can't!” you exclaim, body trembling, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Can't-can't talk!”
Jake chuckles quietly. “You poor thing, fucked dumb already?”
You shudder, wanting to beg as the pleasure grasps at your every nerve, as you start seeing stars. There's something you want to ask from him, something you know he can give you, but you can't think straight, can barely keep yourself from fainting from the pleasure.
You open your mouth, trying to ask him something, but instead blurt something that you're not sure you'd intended to say.
“Daddy!” you cry, hips rolling in time with his thrusts. “Daddy!”
Jake moans lowly, the sound of your nickname for him driving him insane. “Goddamn,” he gasps. “You fuckin' precious baby. You're gonna be the death of me, kid.”
You mewl, unsure of why calling him Daddy makes you wetter, why it makes you clench around him.
Jake groans as your pussy grows tighter, as it gets harder for him to thrust in and out of you.
“Daddy! Daddy, 's too much!” you cry, body trembling. You throw your head back, exposing your neck, and Jake bites at the soft flesh.
“Come for me, baby,” he says. “I know you want to. Come all over my cock, hm?”
“Yes!” you gasp. “Yes! Daddy! Fuck!”
The pleasure inflates within you, feeling like a warm bubble that grows and grows and grows, making the edges of your vision dark. You mewl and cry, begging, saying, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
And then your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure, making you feel like you can't breathe. You gasp and shake, crying out, “Oh, Daddy!”
“Fuck!” Jake gasps as he feels you come around him. “D'you know what happens now, baby?” he asks, voice strenuous. “I'm gonna fill y'up with my cum, hm? Put my seed in you so you smell of me for days.”
You nod. “Please, fill me! Daddy, fill me up!”
Jake thrusts into you a couple more times before finally coming, spurting his load into you, making you shiver as he fills you.
He grunts and gasps, his ears folded back, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip, before he pulls out of you.
He lies beside you, meeting your eyes with his and asks, “You okay, honey?”
You nod, a smile spreading on your lips. “I'm fucking amazing,” you reply. “Luckily, I have the best teacher in the world.”
Jake chuckles quietly. Then, raising a cock eyebrow at you, he questions, “Daddy?”
You blush. “It just...slipped out,” you mumble, a shy smile playing on your lips.
Jake grins. “I like it,” he says. “I hope to hear it more often from now on, hm?”
You blush. “Okay, Daddy.”
-----
@yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @kamcrazy123
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believinghurts · 6 months
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Their Daughter Part 6
Tenison was high in the dining room of Grimmuald Place as the Black brothers stared one another down. Regulus knew that part of Sirius's anger was because he thought he had lost his child to his brother, much like when they were young, and their parents favored Regulus over him. But this was Sirius's own fault; Ali had tried even after she had been hurt that Sirius went to Harry first. Sirius could not get over the fact that Ali was close with the Malfoys and had taken to projecting his anger to the only person who would love him more than anything if he tried.
Sirius wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was jealous of Regulus. He always had been, but coming back from the hell he had been trapped in to find that his own daughter had chosen his brother over him hurt more than any torture he had ever faced. Regulus had always been the perfect child who everyone adored. He had gotten fewer beatings as a child than Sirius, had gotten better grades in school, and now was considered a dad to Ali. It was only natural for Sirius to go back to what he did during his school years and focus his attention on the people who showed him attention. Harry was his godchild, but Harry also had no one else, meaning Sirius didn't have to worry about being replaced. Sirius also felt awful for the events that transpired the night of James and Lily's deaths and was trying to make up for it.
"If you just gave her a chance, you may find she is much more like you than you think." Regulus sat at the table again, watching his older brother run his hands through his hair. "She is so headstrong and stubborn that I know it revivals yours. And I cannot express enough how she just wants to be good enough for you to love, much like how you tried for years with Mother."
Sirius sighed in defeat, regrettting the painful things he had put his daughter through. "I do love her. I just…."
"Are shit at showing it. I saw the look in your eyes when Ali called me dad; I know that hurt you. But instead of talking about it, you just lash out at her or me or Remus, making it seem like you really don't care at all. I never tried to fill that role in her life. I was and will always be Uncle Reg, and that is fine. Do I see her as my child and love her like my own? Yes, absolutely. I will do anything for her, and if that fills that role as a father, I will. But I don't want to take that from you. You had so much stolen from you in your life, Sirius: your childhood, your parents, your best friend, 12 years of your life. The last thing I want to do is take more away, but I cannot and will not put you above her. She deserves so much in this world, and you should help her get it. We both should. But the question remains: will you put aside your 'every Slytherin is a Death Eater' mindset to do so? Because people have changed and we are close to the Malfoys, Notts, Parkinson's, and the Zabini's. They are not the same people anymore. Things have changed in the war; sides have changed. But you haven't. Ali is loyal to a fault and is a great judge of character; she won't betray the Order, nor will the others. Just give people a chance, Sirius."
"I did give people a chance, and it…..it got my best friend and his wife killed. We trusted Peter. I trusted Peter enough to have James make him the secret Keeper. It got them killed, and he was our friend. How am I supposed to trust that Lucius Malfoy has the Order's best interest at heart when my own friend of 9 years didn't?" Sirius started pacing before his brother. His head is cloudy in memories, tears blurring his eyes as his best friend's dead body flashed in front of him. "I know that I'm shit at showing Ali I love her, and part of it is because I'm scared to get close only to lose her again to someone like Lucius Malfoy. I owe it to James to look after Harry, but that doesn't mean I don't love him like my own because I do. But I love Ali just as much, and I know she has you, Remus, and even Snivillious to love her. And I want to try to improve things with her; I just don't know how. How do I fix what I've done, Regulus?"
Regulus caught the double meaning to his brother's question, "You can't. Sirius, you can't fix what happened to James and Lily. You can't fix how you've treated Ali so far."
Sirius felt his heart crack at his brother's words. He had hoped to get Ali back, but it seemed he had gone too far. He started for the stairs when Regulus continued.
"But that doesn't mean you can't fix it from now on. You can't change the past and bring James back, but you can make them proud by loving and protecting Ali and Harry. I mean, yeah, they don't get along now, but I think part of that is because he has seen and heard how you and James treated outsiders. I know they used to play together as babies, not that they would remember it, but Remus told me. Tell how close they were till everything happened, and bring them back together. Stop being afraid of losing Ali to someone when all everyone wants to do is love her and keep her safe. And maybe you don't trust Lucius or the others right now, but I trust them more than Dumbledore most of the time. And you should talk to Moody about the help Lucius has given the Order even if he refuses to say he has aligned himself with us." Regulus held his brother's shoulder, "Give them a chance. Don't let the other kids make remarks about Ali and her friends. Talk to her. I wouldn't start trying to act like her father, but maybe a friend? Or a really distant uncle. You'll figure it out, Sirius; you're smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Sirius followed his brother up the stairs, going to bed with hope, lighting a flame in his heart for the first time in years.
Days following the talk between Regulus and Sirius, Ali noticed that the golden trio had become slightly nicer to her. She does not make as many comments about her or her friends. She had no idea what was happening but wasn't going to complain. Regulus had come to her that morning telling her that he thought it a better idea if Blaise came to their house instead of her going over there. He believed it would show that the Slytherins were not as bad as all the others thought.
At first, Ali was hesitant about the idea. Still, after being reassured that Remus would be home as well as Regulus, Ali agreed. The thought of Blaise being at her house surrounded by her tormentors made her sick to her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to run away for a few days, but that ship had sailed, and it was only hours before Blaise arrived when Regulus called for 'those who live in this house meeting.' By the time Ali had gotten dressed and cleaned her room, everyone was already in the kitchen since it seemed to be the usual gathering place for the group. She straightened her sweater and did a quick glance down to make sure her outfit was still okay. It was slightly chilly in the house, so she had gone with a Bulgarian Quidditch sweater that was mainly red with black details and a pair of cropped black leggings with matching fuzzy socks. She and Blaise had already decided to stay for most of the day and then go and get dinner somewhere in Diagon Ally so she could change later. Remus and Regulus walked at the same time as Sirius and Harry.
"I'm assuming everyone is confused about why this meeting was called," Remus started. "There seems to be an assumption that Slyertians and those associated with them are all Death Eaters or traitors."
Scowls had overtaken most of the younger one's faces in the room, as well as Sirius's. Ali looked at her uncle, trying to figure out where this was going. She knew the reason was to inform everyone that Blaise would be here for a few days, but there was something else going on; she could feel it.
"After speaking with Dumbledore and getting his permission, not that I technically need the permission as it is my house, but nevertheless. A few individuals will be coming to stay here for the upcoming days, and there will be a couple of visitors as well." Regulus's eye caught Ali's, and gave her a wink just as the sound of footsteps entered the foyer. Ali was too short to see over everyone's heads to see who was there, but from the looks on a couple faces, including the elder Weasley, it was someone they were not fond of.
A flash of white hair caught Ali's eye as the group entered the kitchen. Her mouth dropped in shock as she took in her uncle Severus, leading the Malfoys, Blaise, and Theo towards Regulus and Remus. Cissa shot her a wink while Draco eyed Harry and Sirius up and down; Blaise kept his eyes locked on Ali, and Theo thoroughly enjoyed the shocked looks from the Weasleys.
"Sorry, we're late. Draco took too long in the mirror this morning," Severus said. Draco glared at his Godfather before continuing on with his glare at Potter.
"Well, allow me to introduce everyone. This is Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, which I'm sure almost all of you know. This is Blaise, Theodore, and Draco. Narcissa and Lucius will be in and out for the next bit trying to get caught up on Order business while the latter three will be staying here for a bit." Remus shook Lucius's hand before joining Dora beside Ali, who was bouncing on her toes, overly excited at the fact that it was going to be back to normal in the next couple of days.
"You can't be serious. They are staying here?" Sirius exclaimed, running his hand down his face before glaring at Lucius. "I still remember what you did, Malfoy."
"I don't often agree with Sirius, but Dumbledore said this was alright?" Arthur asked. Ali knew that the Malfoys hadn't been the kindest to the Weasleys in the past, and she felt sorry for them in that aspect, but Lucius was not the same man as he was during her first year. And Narcissa wouldn't hurt a flea.
Remus stepped forward again, "He did. Narcissa and Lucius will be helping with some scooting missions that are coming up since they know that area of town better and are considering joining the Order. The three brats are mainly for Ali, though."
"Did you miss us short stack?" Theo opened his arms for Ali, who jumped straight into them. Theo gave her a twirl before pulling on her braid. She barely had time to catch her breath before Draco had her spinning again and tickling her sides, making her squeal.
"Of course I missed you! What kind of question is that?!" Ali giggled before hugging Blaise despite her uncle Remus glaring at them. Blaise took her hand and gave it a squeeze when they parted before facing the other children in the room. Theo and Draco took the opposite sides of Ali, showing a united front against the ones who had been horrible towards her.
Ali was ecstatic that they were going to be in the house more. Maybe her summer wouldn't end so badly. Sirius was shocked that Dumbledore had cleared this and even more shocked that Lucius would help the Order. He did not trust him and would go on those missions even if he had to go as Padfoot. This was outrageous and downright stupid, allowing death eaters to snoop freely in the Order business. Looking at his daughter, he could see how happy she was to be surrounded by her friends, but he also knew that he would have to keep a closer eye on her than he already was. He had asked the trio to play nice so he had more people watching her. He did trust that she was a Death Eater, and now he was surrounded by them.
"Al, Kreatcher sat up extra beds in your room for the boys. Pansy should be joining later, but she had something come up with her grandfather. Her mother said she would owl when she was on her way." Regulus leveled each of the boys with a look. "You lot know the rules. I don't care if you have fun but clean up after yourselves, and don't be too loud when it gets late. Curfew is at 10pm and no later. If you are leaving the house, go in pairs at least and let one of the adults you know be aware of where you're going. You lot know the food is fair game, and Kretcher has already been instructed to grocery shop more often. The house is also fair game, but be respectful, please."
"Don't worry, Uncle Reg. I'll keep them in line," Draco smirked at the other three before Severus whacked him upside the head.
Ali turned and looked at the younger swarm of redheads and others in the room. She cleared her throat to get the attention on her, which made her take an unconscious step back toward Blaise and Draco. "Everyone, this is Theo, Blaise and Draco. I'm sure most of you know this, but just in case. You are welcome to join our fun, but we get if you don't want to." Ali pulled the boys out of the room after greeting her aunt and uncle. They sat on the living room floor with wizards, chess, and a few other games while a movie played in the background. Kreacher brought out snack trays for them, and the laughter was music to Regulus's ears after all the quiet he'd heard from Ali this summer.
Ali could feel the stares from those around them, most directed at Draco and her. She could see the disbelief every time Draco laughed or made a joke. This was the side of Draco that was rarely seen by others. An hour had passed before a chess match went on between Draco and Ali. Blaise sat to one side of Ali, and Theo was in the middle of her and Draco, watching the death match continue.
"What dare shall I have you do this time, Als" Draco taunted her while he moved his piece. It was an ongoing rule that when she and Draco played wizarding chess, the loser had to do a dare of the winner's choice. It was always a toss-up in who won, as both were incredibly good at the game.
"Don't think too hard; I wouldn't want to overwork that one brain cell of yours." Ali stuck her tongue out at Draco when she stole his knight.
Draco was about to reply when a shadow came over the top of the board. Looking up, there was the eldest two Weasley children and Fleur. Ali could see the hearts in Theo's eyes before she kicked him in the shin. "She's engaged, you idiot."
Bill and Charlie chuckled, "We saw you guys playing games and were curious if we could join you? I have my board and thought we could do a little tournament."
Charlie held up his chess board. The teens all nodded, and with a snap of his fingers, Charlie's board was all set up. Bill took one side of the board before looking at Theo. "You up for a challenge?"
Theo crawled to the opposite side of the small table. Bill made the first move, and the game commenced. Charlie and Fleur took seats around the rest of them and started trash-talking with them, too. Charlie was on Ali's side, whereas Fleur took Dracos. Regulus, Molly, and Narcissa looked around the corner and had smiles spread across their faces at the sight they saw. It wasn't the younger kids trying to get along with the others, but the eldest and Molly knew that her children all looked up to their brothers, so maybe there was hope in this crazy plan after all.
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