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#1 i get very inspired to make things and i fuck up whatever i was inspired to do
angeltism · 12 days
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"spar.kle is fictional who cares" I have seen people praising her for her racist anti-romani comments what the fuck kind of world do you live in
#➳ the fool speaks#fuuuck man i don't think fiction and reality will influence each other 1=1 but characters being weirdos or bigots and it not being#criticized for it makes those kinds of people who Very Much Already Exist IRL think they're in the fucking right. they aren't.#i don't think someone getting spar.kle in hsr is going to turn them into a fucking racist but her being Like That and looking cute#and being playable and not getting called the fuck out in game makes people who ARE racists have a cutesy girl to idolize and support and#use as a way to say shit without getting in trouble because ''ermmm I'm not the one who wrote her!! i just think she's really funny!! she's#not real anyways why are you mad!!''#like my god shut UP#again like. pulling for her or thinking she's cute doesn't mean you want all roma dead. that. that isn't how that works#but if you think of hoyo's writing of her is good and funny and not problematic at all I'd LOVE to know what you think about#how real life roma r treated to this day. like genuinely let's have a little chat. I'm sure you have normal not-racist opinions#and do not use the g slur and do not defend it and tootally don't view roma just as all the bad stereotypes right !!!!#*ok actually pulling for her kinda. shows support to hoyo for whatever weird ass decision someone on their team made#to go ''ah yes let's add racism but make it a cute girl and make it 'funny' this'll get us so much money''#and if you spent on her banner. look idk what to say. shame? yeah shame. hoyo in general is not a company that deserves your money there#are better things to spend your cash on. like literally look at how they treated sum.eru and they made the guy inspired by roma WHITE ???#generally. not something I would advise spending on. but like ok especially on the racist character y'know#anyways.
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doodlboy · 8 months
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Hm.
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inkskinned · 3 months
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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
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viennakarma · 2 months
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My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
Find me on Twitter!
PART 2 (END)
You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
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kissforyouu · 8 months
Text
𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙽 . 𝚓𝚓𝚔
Tumblr media
pairing : jungkook x reader
genre : college boy!jungkook , fwb , so much fluff , situationship , confusing relationship
warning : angst , strong language , smoking , masturbation , use of weed and drugs , getting high , lots of kisses🤭 , oral sex ( f recieving ) , doggy , unprotected sex , situationships. (trigger warning😓)
Inspired by Cardigan - Taylor Swift
unedited.
> read pt. 1 here
It's been about three weeks since Jungkook had left my door. I try, but I still can't make up my mind with the fact that it's all over. It's even harder, because Jungkook was always apart of my daily routine. We'd go get our groceries together, drop eachother by our respective classes, study together, hangout and so much more. It's not just the fucking, or the kissing, he was also my best friend. Losing my bestfriend was even worse. Sometimes I'd wonder how it would've been if we never had sex. Would we still be friends? Best friends? Would it have been better? It would have been better, I think. Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't fucking know.
Or maybe we'd just be strangers and I would've never gotten to experience this love from him? Or maybe—it wasn't even love. Well, obviously, it wasn't. He made it clear. Very clear.
Although it's been a week, Jungkook has never tried to contact me. It hurts, but whatever. Clearly he's enjoying his time though, judging by his instagram stories. Party after party. I always see him either drinking or going out with his friends on social media. Okay. I might be stalking him on social media. But hey, it's not exactly stalking when the information is public and accessible to anyone, right? So, I'm not stalking. I'm only making use of my rights as someone using social media.
It's whatever. Jungkook's whatever. I'll move on. Of course, I will. It's nothing a bit of journaling and music can't fix, right? Yeah.
I hum to my music, continuing to write on my journal. This was my way of letting all my feelings out. I'd journal, write and doodle about it. It was calm, and it also helped me open up and learn more about myself. I liked it.
I continued to write...
I still want him. I want him so so much. I really hate to admit that, but I do. I don't know what's gotten over me. I have to make up my mind, I really really do. Jungkook proved to me that I was nothing but some fuck, but why can't I think the same? It's slowly driving me insane. In addition to that, I really really really really fucking hate the fact that I'd go back to him in a heartbeat if I could.
I let out a sigh, closing the journal. This is what I've been doing for the past three weeks. It's stupid, really, we weren't even fucking dating! I keep thinking about that, and it's driving me crazy. Whatever. I placed my journal and headphones back on my table, then getting back on my bed. Covering myself with my soft pink sheets, I made myself comfortable enough to fall asleep.
I hated this so much.
Everywhere I looked, it always reminded me of Jungkook. I hated how every corner of my room had some sort of memory attached to him. Whether it was just him holding one of my belongings, standing in a specific area, or him just doing something—it always reminded me of him.
The worst was my bed. Everytime I got on it, I just couldn't help but think of all the things we did on it. I couldn't help but think of the places his hands touched me, the feeling of his lips on my skin, or the feeling of his cock going in and out of me. I hated this because sometimes—sometimes! Just sometimes I'd feel myself getting hot down there.
I hate to admit this but—
"Mm..." a whimper leaves my mouth at the feeling of my fingers pressing onto my clothed clit. All that thinking got me wet. I slowly drag my fingers up and down, caressing my folds. I imagine it's his fingers, Jungkook's, teasing my folds slowly.
What would he do right now? He'd subtly touch me everywhere to get me soaking wet.
My other hand reaches down to my left breast, rubbing my nipple through the material. A few seconds later, the material of my top was now discarded on the bed. I continue to rub my nipple slowly, just the way he would. My other hand was caressing my thighs slowly, letting my fingertips subtly touch the surface of my skin. I gather a good amount of spit in my mouth, then bringing my fingers to my lips, then my nipples. I spread the liquid all around my nipple, flicking it too.
A heavy breath is heard, my fingers creeping inside my panties this time. It was a new sensation. I never masturbated. I didn't need to. I had Jungkook.
A small whimper echoes within my mouth as my fingers come in contact with my folds, spreading the arousal around. Shit, I was so wet. Not as much I was whenever I was around him though. I gather some of the arousal, rubbing my clit with it next. I moan, continuing to rub myself. It felt awfully good. I imagine it's him. His fingers teasing and rubbing my clit while his face was squished in between my tits. That's how it'd usually go.
An embarrassingly whiny moan slips past my mouth at my thoughts, fuck I want him so bad. I continue to rub myself faster, my back now arched a little. I rub my bud in the motion of an 8, hoping for a release. It feels good, but not that good.
I then run my middle and ring fingers up and down my folds. I imagine it's his tongue, sliding up and down on me as he savours the taste. "So good..." I hum. I retreat my fingers back to my clit, rubbing it again. About a minute later of continuous rubbing, heavy breaths and small whines, I slowly feel my high approaching. I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining it's him, as my body shudders.
I don't rub myself further, stopping myself right there. I was now sensitive down there. I didn't cum. Fuck, this is annoying.
Groaning, my body sits back up on the bed. I put back all my clothes on, pee and get right back to bed. This was unsuccessful and very annoying. Embarrassing, too. What have I done? Fuck, really, Y/n? Over Jungkook. Yes, Over Jungkook.
Okay, just sleep it off. I tell myself, trying to convince myself that what I had done just now was totally not embarrassing.
I groan at the sound of my annoying alarm beeping on my nightstand. "Fuck you", I turn the alarm off, groaning once more as I roll off the bed. I grab my phone, my eyes still blurry, and then— FUCK. IT WAS 12PM. MY CLASSES START AT 11AM. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I rise up from the bed, running to my bathroom. I have to make this very quick. I grab the toothbrush and get in the shower, washing my body while brushing my teeth. 5 minutes later, I run out of the bathroom to open my closet. I throw a pair of jeans and a hoodie before quickly putting them. I don't bother to style my hair or to eat, I just grab my bag and laptop before running out of my dorm. Mina, my roommate, didn't even wake me up. Where even is she? I didn't see her coming back home yesterday? Whatever.
I speed walk to my class that's already started one hour ago. Shit, hopefully the teacher doesn't give me a bad grade or note this down. I had a record of being one of the top 10 students in each class I took. I wouldn't want to drop it because of something so careless and small.
I hesitantly walk inside the door, my foot taking small nervous steps. The teacher looks at me, her eyebrow raising up to a confused look on her face. "Y/n, you're late" She taps her pointer finger on her chin repeatedly.
Bringing my lip in between my teeth, I nod my head in return. "Uh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Kim"
"Any particular reason you got late, Y/n?" She asks.
Oh yeah, I miss my ex - ex best friend - ex talking stage - ex fuck buddy— or whatever, and then I rubbed one out for him and passed out on the bed right after.
"Um, just overslept"
"Ah, pity. As a punishment, stay after class and help out the librarian please. New stack of books incoming!"
I press my lips into a thin line, nodding. It's not like I have another choice.
"Yes, madam."
She giggles in return, then directs me to my seat.
Another hour has passed, the bell has rung. After class. A groan echoes out of me as I rise up from my seat, clutching onto my bag. My friend looks at me, then giggles before patting my shoulder twice in hopes of comforting me a little. She leaves the room.
"Y/n, I hope I see you tomorrow on time. You're a good student, don't lose that reputation." Ms. Kim flashes a bland smile as she exits the classroom. Shrugging, I walk out of the classroom as well, heading to the library.
"Hi, Ms. Kent! I wave at the librarian.
"Y/n, isn't it? Ms. Kim informed me about you." She responds as she adjusts her glasses.
I nod my head back at her, my hands holding on to eachother at the back.
"Great! You can help me by taking out that stack of books and putting them inside this box" She hands me a big cardboard box.
I take it as I walk to the book shelf she pointed at. I turn around to look at the librarian, desperately hoping that she'd come help me out. But no, nevemind. She was on her chair, legs resting on top of her table as she took a nap. Okay, fine, take your rest. She probably deserves it, anyway.
I turn back, my hands now on my hips. "Good luck, y/n" my eyes scan the big shelf.
I start by taking out the books at the lowest layer, then gradually making my way to the top. "Hmm..." I hum, looking around the library for a tool. In order to reach the top, I needed something to get on. As I scan the room, my eyes land on the small tool in a corner. "Ah!"
Getting on the stool, my spread out my arms in order to balance myself. I grab a few books, then slowly lowering myself down to the box to drop the books. It's a bit of a risky task. I could break a limb. "Good", words of relief leave my mouth. I repeat the process, slowly and watching each of my steps.
I bend down to drop another book then lift myself back up, my feet doing a 60° degree again to align myself perfectly in front of the shelf. I grab one of the last few books on the shelf, turning around to drop it into the box. Uh, oh. There we go. I fall to the ground with a yelp. I lost my balance. Groaning, I close my eyes. Maybe I'll just lay here for a few minutes till the pain goes away. It really hurts though, I rub my hip and waist area. I'll apply some balm when I get back to my dorm.
"Y/n?"
I want to drown myself in a river.
I know that voice better than anyone else's. What the fuck is he doing here.
In the other hand, it felt really nice hearing my name coming out of his mouth. I missed his voice.
I gulp at the feeling of two fingers patting my shoulder. I don't want to open my eyes because I know I'll come eye to eye with the person I seriously do not wanting to be talking to right now. But I do it anyway.
"Y-you good?" He stutters.
I nod, slowly raising myself up. I flinch, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain on my lower back. My hand grips onto the closest shelf as I slowly lift myself back up on my feet. Jungkook offers me his hand for support, but I deny it. I just want to walk away.
"Y/n—
I walk past him with the now full cardboard box, ignoring the stabbing pain I'm feeling. Lifting this is so hard, fuck, especially with my now broken back. Broken is probably an exaggeration, but whatever.
I place the box in the small room right next to the library that's filled with stacks of books and other material. I'm done!
I go back inside the library to grab my bag and other items. As I put my pair of glasses inside the bag, I feel the soft honey-like voice from before say my name again.
"Y/n" I'm done.
Ignoring him would be too immature and would cause even more problems. So it's better to say something, right? Totally not because I want to talk with him, maybe, kind of.
"Jungkook." I gulp.
"Let me talk to you." Oh.
"About?"
"Us" Oh.
"There's nothing to talk about us, Jungkook."
"Yes, there is."
"No, there isn't. You made it clear."
"Jesus, Y/n. Can we move on from that, please?"
I scoff. "Fuck, no."
His hand immediately catches my wrist just when I try to walk away.
"Please, let me make it up to you—
"Jungkook. No."
I make it very clear to him that I don't want anything with him anymore. Maybe I do. But maybe I'm scared to get hurt again. Doesn't matter.
I pull my wrist away from his grip. I don't look back but walk straight out of the library.
If you wanted to talk to me and make things right, you should've done it two weeks ago.
Stepping into the safe space of my dorm, I sigh, plopping myself on the bean bag. My fingers go through my hair, softly caressing it and massaging my scalp. Shamelessly, my mind drifts away to the moment where Jungkook's fingers were tangled in betweens my locks, massaging my scalp and stroking my head. Or the times where he would fist my hair, using it to guide my head up and down while I choked on his dick. Unconsciously, my thighs rub against eachother just a little to bring me back to my senses. I look around my room, cheeks flushed and embarrassed. I can't be doing this again, god no.
Deciding to make myself a cup of ramen, I make my way to my little kitchen. I add boiling water to the cup, waiting for the noodles to be ready. Now back on my sofa with my noodles, I was so so ready to dig those chopsticks in and take a bite on my noodles. But my phone suddenly dings, the screen showing a message. It was Jungkook. What, Jungkook? Why's he messaging me? Oh fuck, was it about early? I gulp, reaching down to the coffee table to grab my phone.
jungoogie💌: haiiiii😆😁😁
jungoogie💌: Y/NNNNN!!!! ansehwr mem
My eyebrow slightly raises at the texts, noticing how messy and chaotic they were. Is he was drunk? I began typing my reply.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
No, what.
I immediately press the call option then and there after reading the message of him saying he was going to take another gummy. What was wrong with him?
The call answered fast, the first thing I hear being him giggling.
"Y/nnnn?"
My name is heard in a slurred speech, a set of small giggles being heard once again after.
"Jungkook? Where are you?"
He hums into the phone, then small wet kissy noises being heard after. Is he kissing his phone?
"Miss you...so much..."
My heart warms up at his words. I know I shouldn't let it affect me, but I felt the same. It's been weeks since I had last seen Jungkook, and I've wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and hold. I clear my voice a bit before speaking again.
"I miss you too. Can you tell me where you are, please?"
I need to make sure where he is. Back before I met him, he used to go around the street and get high for fun with Yugyeom. I stopped him later on. But he's back at it again, I guess.
"You do?!" His voice suddenly escalates from tired and slurred to hype pitched and excited. He is being so adorable right now.
"Baby, I...miss you too!" Jungkook groans, then a small thud is heard. I hear Jungkook sigh, sounding very relaxed and calm.
"Mm, are you in your dorm?"
Jungkook hums in confirmation. And just at that, I get up from my bed before walking out the door. I cannot let him get even more high. Even more so, who knows what else he'll do in there.
"Jungkook, keep talking"
"Can I sing?"
"Yeah"
"Vintage tee, brand new phone, high heels on..."
He knew I liked that song. He's doing this on purpose. As he continues to serenade me, I slowly make my way upto his dorm. We weren't allowed to be here. One of the rules in our university was that no one of the opposite gender should be seen at another's dorm. That's a rule me and Jungkook had broken way before. He was always there in my dorm. I'm surprised he was never caught.
Too lost in Jungkook's voice, I forget that I was already near his dorm. Snapping back to reality, I hesitantly ask Jungkook to stop singing.
"Kook, open your door. I'm there."
I'm sure of this, right? Yeah, yeah I am.
"Oh?" His singing stops, his voice switching to a more confused tone. Next, I hear small sounds, then thuds on the floor as they got closer and closer.
The door shoots open in a hurried manner, his eyes falling onto mine. But his eyes are not the thing I'm looking at, it's the weed roll in his hand. I look back at him, my eyebrows now furrowed.
"Baby—"
"When did you start smoking again?" I cross my arms against my chest.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, bringing the blunt upto his mouth to inhale some.
"A few days after we stopped talking" He admits. He looks guilty, but I try to ignore it. I was still mad at him. For everything. In addition, about this too.
Jungkook angles his body to the side, making space for me to walk in. I walk past his body towards his room.
Once I enter, I let out a small gasp at the state of his room. It was so fucking messy. Clothes here and there on the floor, his books scattered across his table alongside empty cans of frizzy drinks and empty ramen cups, bed fully messy and sheets on the floor included.
"What the fuck happened here?" I ask, concern flowing through me.
I feel his hand snake around my waist, cold fingertips giving me chills as they traced my belly. My body instinctively leans back into his, my back pressed against his chest. Jungkook's sighs into my neck, the tip of his nose caressing my collarbones.
"Missed you..." He was holding me so tight that I almost couldn't breathe. He was holding me so tight as if it's the last time he'll ever be able to do so.
I don't say anything else while I lead the both of us to the top of his bed. Jungkook doesn't allow me to move much, caging me in between his body and the bed right away. I lay flat as his body settles in between my legs. I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.
Jungkook takes one look at me, then another inhale from his weed roll. I forget he even had it.
He blows the smoke away, eyes still on mine, staring into the deep the corners of my eyes. Suddenly, I start coughing, my hand on my chest as I tried to calm down my breathing. The smoke was making me cough.
Jungkook sits on the bed, alerted as he starts to mutter sorrys over and over.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, baby"
His hand rubs up and down my back in a soothing manner in an attempt to calm me down. It works, of course. My breathing slows down to my normal pace. Jungkook looks at his blunt, getting up from the bed before taking one last inhale then throwing it in the bin.
He groans, now inside his bathroom. I hear the sound of the water running down.
The light is turned off again as Jungkook exits the bathroom. He looks at me sitting on his bed. This time he notices the outline of my breasts, clearly visible from the thin material of the shirt I was wearing. His eyes trail down my body, from the outline of my breasts to my nipples, then my waist.
"No bra?" Jungkook breaks the silence.
I shook my head, pushing my shoulders back so I could lean against the headboard. And also that my tits were even more visible to him, but I don't want to admit to it. I watch Jungkook's eyes shift from my face to my tits. He walks towards the bed and gets on it.
Sitting on the bed right in front of me, Jungkook sighs, gripping onto my thigh before pulling me towards him so that I'm laying flat on the bed.
We lock our eyes together, our breathing suddenly syncing in as Jungkook hooks onto the edge of my shirt. He looks at me, for approval.
Fuck, how could I not? I've been wanting to feel him so bad.
I nod, gulping.
He raises the shirt upwards, exposing my tummy. Jungkook leans down to place a few kisses all over it. He continues to kiss my tummy in circles, causing me to let out a few giggles at the ticklish feeling here and there. And each time I did, he would raise up his head to look at me, his eyes big and sparkling.
Jungkook moves the shirt more upwards, my tits now out and bare as the end of the shirt laid right over them.
His hands immediately fly to cup my breasts, holding them. He sighs.
"So warm..."
Jungkook crawls further, so that his head is laying on my breasts. He nuzzles himself deeper, cheek pressed against my chest and hands groping my breasts. I watch him attentively, finding this moment comforting.
He slowly turns around to look at me, and this time, I notice how his eyes are half lidded, reddish with veins visible. It's from all that weed and gummies. Jungkook says nothing though, he just looks at me in awe, but also guilt.
I glide my thumb over his cheekbone, stroking it. Jungkook leans in to my touch, then colliding his lips and my palm, small smooch noises being heard after.
This is nice. I want to have this everyday.
He proceeds kiss my fingers, trailing them up wrists to my arms, then collarbone, my throat and upto my face. I close my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his soft thin lips on me and the small smooch sounds they create. Right then, he kisses both of my closed eyelids, then nose, cheeks, chin. The only area left were my lips. My eyes open to look at him.
His breath was fanning against my lips. We were inches away from kissing.
Jungkook cracks up a small giggle,
"I think you sobered me up a little."
He pulls away to sit up on the bed again.
No, kiss me. I want you to kiss me.
I clutch onto his shirt, pulling him back to me. Jungkook was surprised, his hand gripping onto my arm for support. I lean in to peck his lips once. I pull away, my lashes batting as I stare at him.
Jungkook looked shocked. He shouldn't be, I just let him kiss me all over. His expressions change, turning into a more soft and relaxed look on his face. His big eyes stare back at me as he leans in, going for another kiss.
The kiss feels passionate, deep and so — real. It feel real.
Jungkook's eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss more. Our lips move against eachother so perfectly. The kiss wasn't rough, neither was is soft. It was perfect, filled with longing and love.
He settles his legs down next to my thighs, caging my body. I grab his hand, holding it with both my hands to my heart. I'm sure he could feel how fast my heart was beating. He whimpers, sending vibrations through my mouth. The kiss was getting sloppy and air was running out. But we continued kissing. I missed his lips so much. His soft lips against mine, moving in a synchronised rhythm. Even our breathing was synchronised.
After one final smooch, I pull away with a gasp in a serious need of air. My head arches onto the pillow, hair messy and arm thrown over my head as I catched breath.
I lower my eyes down to look at Jungkook, who was looking at me as if I was the only thing that mattered to him. If I could, I'd hit replay and live this moment over and over again.
He cups my face, squishing my cheeks while he left small pecks all over my upper and lower lip. My lips turn into an uncontrollable smile, so big and bright. He continued to peck my lips, teeth even, then my cheeks.
I don't know what is making him do this, is it the weed and gummies he took earlier or is it actually him.
"Mmmm..." I whine once he pulls away.
There is so much tension in the room right now. But nothing sexual, I don't want to fuck him right now. Maybe later. But not now.
Everything we did right now obviously meant we had to talk about it later. Especially about Jungkook's behaviour. The drugs, the weed, the messy room, calling me. Everything. Would I go back to him after this? Yeah.
There is an awkward silence again, and Jungkook looks like he wants to say something so bad. I can say that because he keep tugging onto his lower lip with his teeth, nibbling on it constantly. For a moment, he opens his mouth, ready to say something but closes it again. My eyebrow raises. Patting Jungkook's cheek,
"Say it." I tell him.
"I love you."
Jungkook whispers, audible enough for me to hear. Audible enough to send me into euphoria. Audible enough to make me fucking forget everything for a moment.
I don't say anything back for a few seconds. Jungkook looks relaxed and relieved, maybe glad that he finally said it. Before I could say anything back, he covers my mouth with his hand.
"Don't say anything, please. I don't want to hear it yet. Let's just go to sleep and talk in the morning."
Jungkook lays down on the bed right next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. His big eyes sparkle, looking directly into mine.
I don't say anything back just like he wants, but I wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him closer to me. I don't know whether it was the weather or something else, but Jungkook felt so warm. The atmosphere around us as well. Everything felt warm and comfortable. Nuzzling my face further into his chest, I hum, comfortable as fuck. My heart skips a beat once I feel his fingers on my head. He run them through my hair, massaging my scalp and patting my head. Fuck, I missed this so much.
I soothe into his touch, my body weight now entirely on him. As my eyes get even more drowsy, I let myself fall asleep in his embrace.
Before even realising, the morning had come already. What did make us realise that was Jungkook's alarm going off.
Jungkook groans, rolling over to the other side to turn his alarm off. When he turns around, he finds my back facing him fully. I had shifted while sleeping. Jungkook giggles, his arm pulling me back to him as my back collides with his hard chest. He thinks of going back to sleep again, but too late, the alarm had already woken me up. Just when Jungkook presses his head onto my shoulder, I pull his hair away so that his head is back on the pillow.
"I'm awake"
"Don't care" Jungkook murmers.
"Jungkook"
"Fucking hell..." He groans.
He rubs his eyes open. Jungkook yawns again, then going back to lay his head on my back.
"My head hurts" he sighs.
"Probably because of the things you did last night. Maybe I could give you a massage?"
Jungkook's eyes lit up at the suggestion. Eagerly, he nods his head already sitting up on the bed.
"Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach"
Jungkook can't help but crack up a small laugh at my comment while I tilt my head to the side, clearly confused.
"What?"
"Nothing" He grins.
"No, say it"
—"Say it." - "I love you" —
"It's just that it's usually me who says it you know, cause, when we have sex..." he giggles again.
I look at him, grinning back. Grabbing the pillow, I hit his back with it. Jungkook pokes his tongue, looking at the outline of my nipples through my shirt when I stretch my arms up to hit him. He snorts at the hit, then taking his shirt off before throwing it on the ground.
I get on top of his back once he lays down.
I take my time to admire his naked back, sculptured to perfect. It was so perfect and built. You could tell that he worked out just by the side of his back.
I begin with his shoulders, gently massaging them to ease the tension out. He hums as I continue massage his shoulders now increasing the pressure. I move down to his arms, squeezing them and sort of punching them to relax them. Jungkook's eyebrows raise up,eyes closed as he nods his head in approval. I then press onto his bones, circling them from time to time as I switch in between squeezing his muscles to massaging his bones.
I loved the feel of his muscles. Touching them felt so nice. I loved it when I felt him relax at the pleasure of my hands massaging him. I take a moment to admire his back again, running my hand up and down his back. Unknowingly, my nails begin to scratch his back. He lets out a long moan at the soothing feeling.
I giggle, leaning down to press a small kiss behind his neck. I get no reaction back from him, so I continue to trail kisses down his back. Jungkook shifts a little in his position, groaning a little.
"Jungkook, turn around" I whisper.
I get off of him for a brief moment so that Jungkook could lay on his back before getting back on top of him again. Now that my clothed pussy was pressed onto his growing buldge, I grip onto his shoulders to massage him more. He moans at the feeling, head thrown back.
"Here, baby?"
His eyebrow is raised because of the tone of my voice—flirty— and the nickname I used on him. I never called him baby. Ever.
"What's up with you?" He asks.
I immediately give in not being to control myself more, I dive in for a kiss. Jungkook understands how I'm feeling, smirking into the kiss while his hands sneakily slide up my legs and inside my shorts. He palms my ass cheeks, rubbing his palm over them. My arms lay on around his head, caging it, as both our mouths working on eachother's. My tongue licks his lower lip, a smile forming on my lips slowly. I feel his hands leave the inside of my shorts to slap both my cheeks, a cocky laugh coming from him next. Jungkook then hooks onto the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down upto my ankles. My ass was now bare and out.
I go back in for a kiss, arching my back as well. I whimper into the kiss once Jungkook sneaks his way into my mouth with his tongue, at the same time — his fingers touching my pussy. I could imagine his smirk right now. Fuck. I feel the tip of his fingers teasingly tracing along my folds teasingly. To spite me up even more, he inserts the very tip of his fingers in, but nothing more. I grunt, trying to grind myself back on his fingers. I was begging for some friction. Jungkook's fingers leave my pussy, only to be back with a small slap on it.
I groan into his mouth, letting him take over me with his godly tongue. His middle finger touches my bud, pressing onto it while my pussy clenches on absolutely nothing. It was so fucking embarrassing but I was dripping wet for him.
Jungkook pulls out of the kiss, now beginning to trail kisses all over my neck. He starts with the side of my neck, then down to my collarbone and back up on my neck again. He nibbles on a spot near my throat, biting it here and there to create a hickey. Jungkook licks over the small purple bruise forming, to then kiss it over and over again. He begins to repeat the process all over on several areas on my neck and collarbones. Meanwhile, I melt onto his touches, just letting him continue kissing and biting me all over. But while being too caught on the moment, I feel his fingers begin to slowly rub my bud. A long moan leaves me as my back arches even more. I'm pretty sure I looked like a fucking cat who was stretching.
"Turn around. Want this pretty pussy on my face" He pats my bud.
Shit, I was so turned on.
Immediately, I turn around, my ass now in front of Jungkook's face. I feel his hands on my cheeks, squeezing them and feeling them all over as he slaps it a few times.
"Sit on my face"
I felt myself clench around nothing.
I turn my upper body around to make sure I won't hurt him, I slowly lift my thighs up to sit on his face. I wasn't exactly putting my whole body weight onto him, more like hovering over him.
"Sit" He commands.
"No, you'll be crushed and my thighs are too big. This is good enough"
I hear him sigh. Next thing I know I feel his hands on my thighs, bringing me down so that my ass was entirely on his face and thighs around his neck and shoulder. My entire body weight was on him.
"I'm not dying, see?" He scoffs.
I whine in defeat, nodding to his words.
Jungkook begins by swiping his tongue up for a long stripe on my pussy, then going in again. He repeats the process, but much rougher, with his nose pressing onto my flesh. Meanwhile, his hands rub and squeeze my thighs, delivering a few slaps here and there. I lean forward a little balance myself out, but suddenly jolt at the feeling of his tongue entering my pussy.
"Shit!" I moan.
Gripping onto his shoulders for support, my back arched and pussy on his face. His face was smothered all over my dripping cunt.
"Baby, you're so wet. This pussy must've missed me, huh?" I feel his thumb dipping in to gather arousal. Jungkook sucks on his thumb, pulling it out again to enter two fingers in my hole at once.
"Fuck!" I wasn't even stretched out to begin with.
He kisses my clit, lips softly sucking on it while his fingers went in and out of me slowly. So slow, that it felt like he was just caressing my wet folds. His teeth gently tucks on my clit to pull on it a little, earning a long moan from me return. He sighs into my pussy, groaning right after, sending vibrations through me adding even more pleasure.
Shit, this was heaven.
He was so mindful with what he was doing. He knew where to touch me, where to kiss, how to tease me and make me like it. He knew my body so fucking well, better than I ever could.
Jungkook pulls out both of his fingers to replace them with his tongue. I feel his tongue swiping through my folds, gulping down all of my juices. His room was filled with nothing but my filthy moans and his slurping noises.
His tongue enters my gaping hole, making my eyes roll back in pleasure. Shit. He saves me no mercy, trusting his tongue in and out of my pussy. Fuck, I was so turned on. I could feel my slick dripping down to his face, smothering it all over.
Panting, I close my eyes just to open them a few seconds later, my eyes immediately landing on the fat dent in his pants. His cock was prominent and big, standing tall even in his quite tight pants. I want to have it. I look beneath me at the man who was currently eating me out like a starved man, biting my lip at the erotic sight.
I groan a little, moving my hips at the same pace as his tongue.
"Jungkook, I want you in my mouth!" I cry out.
He doesn't respond, continuing to eat me out. His finger was now pressed onto my bud, circling it. I whine, desperately wanting a response from him.
Still no response. I then grip onto his shoulders with my hands, leaning forward. I crawl my way over his body, my face right in front of his cock now. I hear Jungkook groan at the lack of my pussy on his face. I turn my upper body around to look at him, giggling at him. Sticking my tongue out playfully, I turn back around only to get dragged back to Jungkook by his arm.
My back collides with his chest, a series of giggles and laughs leaving us. I throw my head back, still laughing, as Jungkook holds both my hands tightly to my chest while not letting go.
He presses his cheek onto my neck, whispering things.
"You want me dick? Yeah, you're gonna get it"
He easily turns my body around so that I was laying on my stomach again. Jungkook now gets on the bed, on top of me as both his thighs are caging mine. He pats my ass cheeks with both his hands while I got myself back up so that my ass was displayed to him clearly with easy access (doggy style). Jungkook releases his breaths, fondling with my ass cheeks, slapping it a few times.
"I could do this all day everyday" He comments.
"Jungkook, I missed you" my voice cracks.
He scoffs. "You missed me or you missed this dick?" He slaps my cheeks again.
I whine, sighing afterwards.
"Both" Jungkook laughs, almost mockingly.
"Wonder how you got yourself off without me, hm? Did you use your hands? Were you even able to make yourself cum?"
I could feel that cocky smirk behind me.
"S-shut up, just fuck me" I could feel the heat in my cheeks growing more each second.
"Did you cum?"
"No"
Jungkook hums, fingers inching towards my pussy.
"You want me to touch you here and make you cum?" His fingers circle my wet clit.
"Mmm-hm" my voice sounds more relaxed, but desperate.
"Here? Touch you like this, baby?" He then pinches my clit and twists it, earning a whiny whimper from me. I was so fucking wet and each touch he gives me got me dripping even more. After, I feel his hand palming my pussy, juices smothering all over his hand while he rubbed my clit painfully slowly.
A long whine leaves me, back arching even more. Fuck.
"Jungkook, p—please... please"
I was a big fucking mess and Jungkook loved it so much.
"No more, please... Just fuck me, mm!"
My hair was messy and all over, head buried into the pillow while Jungkook's hand worked slowly on my pussy. He lets out a little laugh, stopping his movement on me. I don't feel his hand on me no longer, but not even a second later, I gasp at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed onto my folds.
"Shit, Jungkook" I cuss.
"You're on birth control?"
"Mhm"
We were too fucking horny to even care at this point.
He glides the tip along my folds, coating it nicely with my slick. I hear him pumping himself a few times — not that he wasn't hard enough, fuck his cock was standing so fucking tall — but to bet my slick all over. He aligns himself with my hole once again, patting my ass afterwards.
"You ready?"
"Just put it in!"
He thrusts himself in rough, a big wet noise echoing through the room.
"Fucking hell, baby, you're dripping"
Jungkook begins from just grinding his cock into me while being inside, then gradually increasing his pace. He then stops for a moment to pull his cock out for a second to slam it back in a rough pace. He never stops, repeating the same process over. The sound of his thighs clapping into the back of my thighs echoes through his room alongside the wet mushy noises my pussy made.
"S—shit, so good, taking this cock so well, baby"
He repeatedly slaps both my ass cheeks mid process, enjoying this moment to the max. My whole upper body had collapsed to the bed already, and it was the pillow that Jungkook placed under my stomach that was holding me up.
I was this close to passing out. My mouth was open, saliva spilling to the pillow while he continues to drill into my pussy.
Jungkook leans forward to press his chest onto my back, hands enveloping my breasts to flick and pinch my nipples.
He circles his hips in circular motions, just to pull out and slam back again inside.
I was such a moaning mess.
"Mm, mm, mm! Y-you fuck me so well!" I scream out.
"Oh, baby" He groans.
I feel myself clenching around him repeatedly, about to cum.
"J–jungkook, cumming!"
His thrusts slow down a little but he picks it back up, slopping but fast as he fucks me through my high. I feel my pussy clenching around him tightly, making the man behind me cuss and moan as I finally released all over his cock. Panting, I moan into the pillow as Jungkook kept going on.
His lips leave a few kisses on my back, his thrusts getting sloppier as he went on.
He lets out a long moan, finally releasing myself in my pussy.
"Shit, shit, shit—" a series of moans and cusses leave his mouth.
We both lay there, breathing synchronised and fast. Jungkook then slowly lifts himself off of my body, slipping himself out.
"You look fucked out, baby" He laughs.
"Of course, I would be. You just fucked me rough and I'm stuffed with your cum" I respond.
He puckers his lips, leaning down to place small kisses all over my face.
"Ah, my babyyy. Tired?" I could tell he was teasing me from the little baby voice he's using on me.
I turn my head to the other side, a smile forming on my face, completely forgetting about the fact that I was filled with his cum to the brim.
I feel his hand on my head, fingers twirling my curls at the end. He then holds my chin, gently, moving my face so that I'd face him.
His nose scrunched, Jungkook smiles wide before leaning down to place a soft peck on my puckered lips.
"Cute" He mumbles, and I swear my heart just did a flip.
"Let's get you cleaned"
We both were now on his bed again, cuddled up against eachother after a nice shower together. Both our classes start around 2pm, thankfully, and it was about 9am right now so we had a plenty of time left to just be in eachother's presence. I still had so many questions to ask Jungkook regarding yesterday. But not right now, I wanted to enjoy this moment.
I was currently laying in his arms, my head resting on his hard chest and both arms securely wrapped around my body while we watched whatever show that was on the TV. From time to time, he would lean forward to press a kiss onto my body or just talk about the show we were watching.
"I honestly don't like her character. She's so...ugh" I comment on the TV show, my face scrunch up in disgust.
Jungkook just hums, hand massaging my scalp. He seemed to be out of space a little. Deep in thought. Wonder what he was thinking about. Eh, I could think of a few possibilities.
"Jungkook?" I pat his cheek.
He hums in response, glancing at me.
"You good?"
"Mm, just — ah, yesterday, you know. I'm sorry, baby"
Awwwww.
"No, it's okay. I'm sorry about earlier, though"
"Baby, there is nothing for you to be sorry for, okay? In that case, it's me who should say sorry for anything. I really did care about you right from the start it's just that...I didn't want to admit it, you know? I didn't know whether I was ready for a relationship or not. I know in that way, I was leading you on and I'm sorry for that. But I truly did enjoy and care for you from the bottom of my heart. I just kept trying to convince myself that I didn't want anything else from you..."
I listen silently. He continues...
"...And also, I'm sorry about the café. But we weren't anything to begin with. You were the only girl I talked with throughout the whole time I was sort of seeing you. But after the incident, I started to realise how much of a fucking douche I was to you. But the more realising I did, the more I realised how much I actually cared about you. And that's when I started taking all the gummies and weed again because I needed something to get my frustration off on. But I also worked hard to stop using them because of you. That's when I realised I was in love with you. I was so fucking in love with you that I started to dig up old unhealthy coping mechanisms to cope again which I stopped doing solely because you told me to do so. I felt back because I felt as if I was betraying you but I had already betrayed you so what was the point, I thought. I tried to go to parties to find girls to release my stress but non of them were you so I'd end up disgusted and leave. I'm so fucking sorry, I became a mess"
He stops talking, releasing a sigh. We stay in silence for about 10 seconds before I break it.
"Jungkook, it's alright. I'm glad you told me and everything is fine now, hm? Thank you for telling me. I understand your side and I also forgive you. I'll help you clean your room. I'll help you with everything. And I can't give you an answer for your confession right now, okay? But we can definitely go on a date" I smile, tilting my head to the side.
Jungkook squeals out of happiness, pulling me into his embrace.
"Thank you so much, baby. Take all your time and thank you so much." He responds, the shaking of his voice from earlier now nowhere to be heard.
He leans down to place a kiss on the top of my head, pulling me closer into his embrace while we continued to watch TV.
Maybe this is for the best. This feels right. And I want this. Yeah.
"I like this" I say
"I like you"
I know you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me.
a/n : hii sorry this took a while to post 😭🙏🏽 i been busyyyy. thank you soo much for reading and hope you liked it :)
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jerreeeeeee · 15 days
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i don't think taako's voice is really all that high most of the time. it's higher than justin's normal voice a little, but idk, the defining quality of it isn't its pitch to me, there's something else that i don't really have the words for. but anyway i do notice that his voice gets lower and less exaggerated when he's being serious. which is interesting bc it sort of implies that the usual "taako voice" is something he puts on.
i don't really think of taako as a habitual performer. his charisma modifier is a -1, he's not this ultra smooth charming actor, and although he does tend to hide behind humor and is slow to build connections, he's also very frank with what he's about and what he wants. he goes on an entire tirade about wanting to talk about his feelings (he's multidimensional!), he never acts embarrassed or hesitant about big moments of vulnerability and caring for others (arms outstretched, "i'm not going fucking anywhere," admitting a deep fear to kravitz on their first date, spilling his tragic backstory to angus, not to mention several serious moments with lup) (and not all of these can be chalked up to "forgotten connections," either. he does have a foundation of growth with magnus and merle, even forgotten, and his conversations with lup are of course all with memories intact, but he does not have that with kravitz and angus). he's just slow to reveal all of his hidden depths, because of (understandable) trust issues. but all in all he's not nearly as closed off as i think fandom tends to portray him (which is not to say he's open, either), nor is he someone who wears a lot of masks and obscures himself. i don't think he hides his "true self."
sizzle it up was successful because of his intelligence, not his charisma. he's a natural teacher who's knowledgeable and passionate, and that was what made the show great, not his personality or performance (though i don't think those were bad. just not the primary appeal of the show. the only fan we see is ren, and she loved sizzle it up because it inspired her and taught her to cook, not because she thought taako was awesome or whatever). bc that's the thing, he's not a performer, but he is extremely adaptable. so when he's set up with a stagecoach and a show lined up, sure, he'll have a TV persona, he'll learn to be charming, he'll learn to be showy, when he's on stage. when he gets famous, he learns to like being famous, but i don't think it was really a dream of his before then. or at least not in the way people think of it. i don't think he ever wanted to be a celebrity as much as a celebrity chef or celebrity wizard. he doesn't care if people think he's pretty. he doesn't want people to adore him (before the voidfish, anyway. afterwards is a different story. there's a void where love used to be that he's desperate to fill, and adoration almost feels like it works). really what he wants is for people to appreciate his skill and intelligence and depth (and he's also very afraid of actually displaying those things. he's multidimensional).
but most of the time, when he's not literally performing for an audience, i just don't think he's putting on a show, desperate for people to like him and think he's charming. he'll do what he needs to do, say what he needs to say, be who he needs to be in any given circumstance, with strangers and antagonists, but he also drops the act when it's not necessary. or at least his performance is subtler. he performs stupidity, he performs nonchalance, he makes efforts to be funny (because he is always funny, but that's something you have to work for and always be thinking about, even when the humor is dry), he carefully does just enough to be useful, but not enough to raise expectations. he's very aware of how other people view him, but he's also perfectly okay with people thinking negatively about him—as long as they're the negative traits he wants people to see. but, he only does all those things in the beginning of the show; after a little while with magnus and merle, after a little while with the bob, he drops the act. so i guess that's the difference to me. he's adaptable out of necessity, it doesn't bleed into his entire life. i don't even really think i'd qualify it as a performance. it's more of an invisibility. he's not performing charisma to get people to like him, he's trying to lay low. but then when he actually wants people to like him, he's himself, fairly unapologetically. with the people who matter, lup, magnus and merle, kravitz, the other bob members, the other ipre crew, he's pretty comfortable with himself.
one last interesting point is that while he doesn’t seem to hesitate when it comes to actions, he does shy away from verbal displays of affection, trust, vulnerability. and the best two scenes to show that play out almost exactly the same: lup’s best day ever dinner, and dropping his disguise self with kravitz. in each, taako does something meaningful for both npcs, who then verbalize their affection for him, which taako immediately deflects with a joke.
taako drops his disguise spell for kravitz, totally honest with him, (although… i don’t tend to think the beauty sacrifice was as meaningful to taako as fandom tends to portray, i think most of his vanity is an exaggeration he intentionally cultivates, but still, it’s a vulnerable moment, he clearly cares what kravitz thinks), and kravitz tells him he loves him. to which taako replies with a joke. he does not return the words.
taako doesn’t hesitate to construct the best day ever for lup, never even questions why she’d ask. he puts it all together, cooks for her, shows her he knows her, he loves her—and then when she bears her heart to him, tells him he is her heart, all he says is, “i know,” and pulls out a bottle of vodka. of course lup knows he loves her, the whole day was an elaborate demonstration of it, but he doesn’t say anything. to be fair, it’s not exactly a typical interaction between them, taako is textually scared shitless, lup did just tell him she’s going to turn herself into an undead abomination, so he’s not exactly at his best here. but anyway.
i don’t really have anything to add to this observation, it’s just very consistent and interesting to me. taako is fairly comfortable with grand gestures, but sidesteps around words. which ties in perfectly with his identity as a chef, to me. cooking is an action, work, intention, cooking for people is an act of love, an act of connection, an act of caring, and taako’s character doesn’t fit the bill for that—except, he kinda really does.
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So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.
I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.
I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.
Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.
Some stats, if you will.
96215 words || 380 pages
Title font: Ghaomiec
I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.
Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.
The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.
Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.
Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.
I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.
Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 2 months
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Hi! Can you please write part 3 of bale batman x assistant reader as his wife? And how he handles jealousy after their marriage? Thank you 😊
Hello!!
I actually wrote something about this a little while ago, but because I feel like just linking the post is a bit of an asshole move, I'll add some of my thoughts!
I hope that's okay <3
Here's my previous post :)
~Fi 🐝
(My inspiration for Bruce has been dwindling, I desperately need to watch the movies again)
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
He will always, ALWAYS call you his wife. More than your actual name. He has to keep reminding people that you're unavailable and that you're his and his alone. Bruce perks up immediately whenever your name is mentioned. He's policing all of his employees at this point lmao
maybe someone talks about you to a coworker about how innovative you're thinking for the company is, that you're kind and exactly what this industry needs and Bruce just pops up out of nowhere like "who are you talking about? Hm? Oh, my beautiful, amazing, perfect wife? I couldn't agree more."
He gets so stealthy after being in the batman business that he scares them half to death because he's just there all of a sudden. After hearing some of the complaints the employees make (you're not at work as often anymore after Bruce insisted you focus on some hobbies instead) you're seriously contemplating putting a little bell on him just so you don't have to worry about anyone getting a heart attack.
He always has to be touching you in some kind of way. His go to is a hand on the small of your back or on your thigh when you're sitting down, he loves holding your hand, too. His thumb will brush over the cool metal of your wedding band and it puts his mind at ease.
Every single employee knows not to flirt with you, even as a joke. Not after Jake suddenly disappeared after Bruce caught him sweet talking you... (he may have a received a strongly worded letter from his landlord ((Bruce)) and, what do you know, for some reason, any other living opportunity in Gotham is unavailable right now)
He brings you flowers at least once a week (or until the ones he gifted you before can't hold their own anymore and wilt). They're always fragrant and bright in color, whatever is in season right now. And they stand nicely on your desk in a beautiful crystal vase that catches the light perfectly. He catches himself looking at them more than he he would like to admit.
Or, more specifically, he wants to see if he can catch you admiring them. He's gotten a new appreciation for these small things since you came into his life. They way you cup the delicate blossom and inhale its sweet scent is a picture he will dream of forever.
Bruce makes sure that you're only addressed as Mrs. Wayne (unless it's someone close like Luscius or a very nice coworker of yours) making it clear to everyone, again, that you're his. He gifts you a necklace with his name on it, which you wear proudly, and Bruce can't help but grin when he sees his name glint in the sunlight against your skin.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I'm so sorry for kinda half-assing my Bruce posts lately, but I can barely write anymore 😭
I usually write at night but I'm tired then too so I'm like "Oh, I'll just write during the day." BUT GUESS WHAT I'M ALSO TIRED DURING THE DAY
Fucking iron deficiency istg
I basically sleep all the time and when I do write, it's not a lot bc I'm literally falling sleep halfway through so yeah
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maximumsass · 2 months
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Green Eyes of Envy Pt. 4
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Synopsis: It’s yours and Mel’s first happy hour with the Abbott crew as a couple. You still haven’t told anyone but of course are discretely touching and glancing at each other every chance you get. But of course the night doesn’t go quite as planned and you have to decide whether you’ll defend the redhead’s honor or if you hold back and let her defend yours. Let’s just say it gets physical possibly in the good way and the not so good way. What will go down at the Abbott happy hour, keep reading to find out!
Author’s Note: Hi my lovely fanfic village! So I was inspired to write this because we all know how Melissa is already ready for a fight but what happens when the situation arises where she could fight for the reader or the tables are turned and the reader fights for her. I think it’s an interesting story because so far we’ve seen the really sweet, petite, cutesy, and caring reader and this possibly puts the reader into a don’t fuck with me or my girl role. But will Melissa even allow that??!! It was a lot of fun for me to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Let me know what you think! And please send me any requests that you have! Lots of love and all da hugs! 💜
Warning: I use handicapped as a slur. I want to preface this by saying that I am not trying to offend anyone or upset anyone. Please don’t come for me or cancel me. I promise I mean no one any harm. I myself have several physical disabilities, so I’m seriously not trying to upset the disability community. I’m purely using it for the plot. I hope y’all understand.. Also SMUTT and of course as always FLUFF!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Word Count: 3.75K
You and the Abbott crew had gone out for drinks after school. It had been a few weeks since Mel had ended things with Gary. You and the redhead were trying to take things slow but given the fact that you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other whenever you were alone together made it very challenging to say the least. Okay fine…you two had participated in some adult extra cirricular activities. But hey as we teachers say it has helped make us well rounded individuals in that aspect of our lives.
You both are on high alert to keep the PDA to the barest of minimums in front of your coworkers. You feel Melissa’s hand intentionally slide down your back, making sure not to miss your butt, and dropping her hand right next to yours and hooking her pinky with yours.
You give her a big smirk and chuckle quietly to yourself. “Hi I’ll have a Sour Monkey and she’ll have a Victory classic, please. And then whatever else she orders, please put in on my tab.” You hand the bartender your card and smile. “Thanks so much, I appreciate you.” You say to the bartender as she hands you your drinks. You hand the redhead her drink and lift up your own. “To having a great night with the most gorgeous woman in the world. Cheers.” You say as you look at her with immense affection.
“Cheers pretty girl.” She says to you with a big cheesy grin on her face as she squeezes your hand as you clink glasses.
“What’s got you smiling so big Melissa? I didn’t even know you were capable of looking like that!” Ava teases as she slides in beside us.
“None ya business!” The redhead quips at Ava, the big smile totally gone, replaced by her infamous today is not the day and I am not the one death glare.
Ava looks at the redhead cleary trying to decide whether to poke the bear more or not. To keep that from happening you jump in with a funny antidote that happened with one of your kiddos this week. And thankfully the conversation stays civil. You are trying to pay attention to what’s being said and throw in your two cents here and there but you can’t take your eyes off of Jessica Rabbit, it’s like you’ve been hypnotized and whenever you’re even in the same vicinity as each other your brain turns to silly putty and you become this little drooling love sick puppy. It makes you cringe just admitting that to yourself.
You hear a deep loud voice in the background and it snaps you back into reality. You look around and you see Gary talking to Gregory. Weird you think to yourself, maybe it’s just a coincidence that he’s at this bar. You look at him a few more seconds before focusing your attention back on Ava and Melissa.
“There you are!” Gary exclaims to Melissa. He has somehow managed to get right next to her. “I just wanted to come and see for myself.”
All three of us have a what the hell is he talking about look on our faces.
“What are you talking about Gary?” Melissa asks in an exasperated tone.
“Well I have people who have been telling me they’ve seen you around with someone. And I just had to come see for myself. And here she is right in front of my very eyes. You picked a handicapped bitch over me. Figures you’d pick a charity case for your next go around.” He practically declares to the whole bar.
You scoff in disbelief that this is actually happening right now. “Ava, hold this for me please.” You say as you take off your earrings and hand them and your ring to her. “Excuse me, what did you just call me?” You say as you cut in between him and Melissa and give him a little shove to get him away from her. You step towards him with your arms crossed. Gary looks stunned at what you’ve just done.
“What’s that matter? Are you just now realizing how offensive what just came out of your mouth was? Oh my gosh I just remembered what you said. I believe you called me a handicapped bitch who’s Melissa’s charity case. A very colorful description if I do say so myself. But here’s the thing just like you just stated she picked the handicapped bitch of a charity case over you, and I bet that just nearly demolished any ego that you had about yourself. Here’s the other thing big guy she’s been screaming my name every night since she left you…how long has that been? Oh yeah three weeks. And I bet it made you feel really proud of yourself when you got her to do that with you that one time. So I’d say when we compare the two, she made the right choice to choose the handicapped bitch of a charity case. You’ve seen us, now get the fuck out of this bar. And I advise you to not use that disgusting, hateful language towards anyone else.” You say inches away from his face.
You turn to walk back to your place at the bar when you hear him go. “What did you even just say to me? I didn’t understand a word.” And then proceeds to talk gibberish as he imitates your speech impairment.
Meanwhile back at the bar Melissa is squaring up Ava.
“Melissa, I’m not denying that I’m scared of you because we both know I am, but I have several inches on you and will use them. If you try to get involved in what’s going on over there. I cannot have two of my people getting involved in a bar brawl, especially a beloved veteran teacher such as yourself.” Ava says quietly to the redhead while getting as close as possible to her in case she needs to grab her if she tries lunging towards you and Gary.
“You heard what he just said to her, he needs to know that no one talks to her like that and lives to see another day!” Melissa exclaims with fury in her eyes and she is about to do whatever it takes to make Gary pay.
Thankfully Barb magically appears by Melissa’s side. “You need to get ahold of yourself and walk away. I don’t know what is going on between you and (Y/N) but the way you two have been making love eyes at each other for weeks now I assume has something to do with why she’s taking on Gary. She’s made her bed and now she has to lie in it, the best thing for you to do is to come with me so that you are able to take care of her when this chaos ends.” Barb says in a low voice so only Melissa can hear. Despite the fury boiling in her right now, Melissa knows that Barb’s right and she goes still and lets the brunette lead her to the other end of the bar.
You pause and scoff to yourself and then you are not in control anymore and you see red, you whip back around and proceed to punch him as hard as you can square in the jaw and he immediately drops to the floor. You scramble to him and straddle his chest as one hand is on his throat and the other is gripping his face forcing him to look at you. “Stay the fuck away from her! Got it big guy?!” You scream at him. You push his face away forcefully as you get off of him and stand up and take a few steps out of his reach. You look around you, it’s like the bar had frozen in time, everyone in the bar was staring at you in a collective look of disbelief, and silence that covered the place like a gray smog.
“Sorry for the commotion y’all. I will just close out my tab and let y’all enjoy the rest of your night.” You announce to the bar, you hold up your hands to gesture you mean no harm.
You walk back to your place at the bar. “I’m so sorry about what happened. Honestly I wasn’t on planning on getting physical with the guy. But whew he took me back to childhood trauma with the playground bullies. And as Mel says my fight or fight response was triggered and I guess that was the end result. I totally understand if you don’t want me to come back, and I will respect that.” You say to the bartender as you tip and sign the receipt.
The bartender reaches for your arm. “Honey if I was in your shoes as soon as he started saying that filth to you, he’d been knocked out. So I respect the level of control you had during the confrontation. If anyone is getting banned from the bar it’s that dirt bag. You are welcome back any time. Now go take care of that hand.” The bartender says to you.
You turn back towards your coworkers, they were clearly talking about what had just went down, not so subtly eyeing you as they talked amongst themselves.
“Danggggg (Y/N)! Look at you being a little secret MMA fighter! That man hit the floor so fast, you could’ve blinked and missed the sucker punch that you dealt out!” Ava exclaims.
“You good (Y/N)?” Gregory asks as he looks at you concerned.
“Not doing so hot currently, but I’ll be okay.” You say giving him a small smile.
“If you need anything you just let us know. We got you.” He says and then pats your shoulder gently.
“Thanks man, I appreciate that.” You squeeze his shoulder with your good hand.
“Oh my god (Y/N)! You had me literally speechless! Which speaks for itself obviously!” Jacob exclaims.
Before you can respond to Jacob, Janine engulfs you in a hug. “I was so worried about you (Y/N)! Are you okay? Is your hand okay? Is it hurting you right now?” Janine asks you rapidly.
You hug Janine gently back to encourage her to let you go. “Thanks for the concern Janine. I am not doing so hot right now. I think my hand’s broken to be honest. And yeah it doesn’t feel great right now.” You answer Janine’s questions, just talking about your hand makes you realize how badly your hand hurts. You need to get the fuck out of here and to the ER you think to yourself.
“One more question for you (Y/N). Does this mean that you and Melissa are a thing?” Jacob asks excited.
“Oh honey that’s a question for Ms. Schemmenti to answer.” You say to him with a smirk. He gets this look of horror on his face.
“You know what, it’s none of my business. Forget I asked.” He says nervously.
“Have a good rest of your night you two.” You say as you move past them.
At the end of the bar you see Barb and Jessica Rabbit herself, Barb has her arm around Melissa’s shoulder. To the average observer you’d think that the brunette is trying to console her friend. But you know better, she’s actually gently restraining the redhead from moving from her seat so that she doesn’t do even more damage to Gary as well as create another scene in the bar which has just gotten back to normal activity.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for Melissa’s reaction then you walk right up to them. “Ladies! What a lovely evening it’s been, don’t you agree?” You tease with a small nervous laugh. Both women look back at you with deadpan expressions.
“Okayyy, too soon to joke about, noted.” You say.
“Young lady what on earth were you thinking?! Oh wait, obviously you weren’t thinking! You little girl are 100 pounds soaking wet and that barbarian is probably 3 times your size and could’ve easily severely injured or killed you! We were worried sick about you! Not to let the cat out of the bag but this woman is head over heels in love with you. And she would’ve been beside herself and never would forgive herself if anything happened to you!” Barb scolds you.
“Barb you heard what he said to me, no one gets to say such hateful things towards me and be spared of my wrath. Besides if I wouldn’t have stepped in, she would’ve and we both know I’m the one with more restraint, she would’ve probably ran out to her car and got her bat and then we’d be looking at murder charges possibly.” You defend yourself.
“That’s so not true!” The redhead exclaims.
“Oh come on babe! Be honest with yourself!” You tease as you nudge her playfully.
“Fine… there might be a possibility that might’ve happened.” She grumbles.
“There ya go! Barb if it makes you feel any better I’m pretty sure I broke my hand when I decked him so I am suffering the consequences of this shit show. Also I’m head over heels in love with your best friend and will protect her no matter the cost. It’s also nice to know how much you care about me.” You say as you smile at her. You step closer to Mel, you inhale her sweet but savory perfume and then you stroke her hair as you lean in and kiss her temple. You lean your head against hers and get full body chills. God I really do fucking love her you think to yourself.
Melissa wants to cuss you out in all of the Italian ways she knows how. But hearing you say that you love her and feeling your touch on her, she just wants to cry with relief that you’re not more injured than you are. God damn it Barb being right for the second time that day, she fucking loves you, just feeling your head on hers brings a wave of calm that she should not feel in this moment.
“Well I’ll leave you two love birds alone. Melissa, you take care of that girl and make sure she’s okay. And you miss little MMA fighter, behave yourself and make sure she doesn’t go after that man! I’ll see you both at school on Monday.” Barb says with a wave as she walks toward the other teachers.
“Are you trying to scare me to death by putting yourself in a situation where you could’ve been killed?!” Melissa scolds you but she can’t hide the tears that are pricking her eyes.
You pull her into hug and hold her tight. “I’m sorry angel. As soon as I heard what he said to me, it was over and no one could’ve stopped me from defending myself and you. I’m okay though and I’m right here and just thankful to be in your arms.” You say to her softly.
After you break away from each other. She gives you a concerned look. “Let me see your hand.” She says softly.
You give her your hand that is now turning black and blue. She gently touches it to see what the damage is, you can’t help but let out a little hiss because oh my god does it hurt. She gently kisses it and lets go.
“I’m gonna head over to the University Hospital and have them take care of me. I don’t want you to waste your night with that. I’ll text you when I get released.” You say in a matter of fact tone.
“No no no, you are not gonna do the whole Miss Independent I’m fine and I don’t need anyone thing! If you think for five seconds that I’m not going to be right beside you through all of this, you have another thing coming! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this but you’re stuck with me taking care of you and making sure you’re okay when it comes to anything that life throws at you, even when you make boneheaded decisions in which you fight men three times your size! Which by the way I’m making you swear you’ll never do again!” She says in a there’s no debating this tone.
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed at me.” You say with a chuckle. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand gorgeous.” You say as you kiss her softly.
You drive to the hospital in silence, only the music from the radio filling the car. But Melissa throughout the whole ride makes sure to have one hand resting on your thigh every chance she gets.
She finds a spot relatively close to the emergency room entrance. She stops the car and then looks at you. She has to know if you really meant what you said to Barb.
“I need to know if you really meant what you said to Barb about me.” She says and you can see the vulnerability on her face.
“When I said that I love you?” You ask to clarify that’s what she means even though you know that it is.
She nods looking at you expectantly.
“Well it’s definitely not how I planned on saying it. I was going to do it after a romantic date or after an amazing night of pleasing each other. But of course I meant it Mel. I really do love you.” You say as you reach over and caress her cheek.
She leans towards you and you share a slow passionate kiss. “I love you so much (Y/N).” She says softly when the kiss ends.
You both just gaze at each other lovingly for a few moments, soaking in this memory that you’ll both cherish forever.
You go into the emergency room and get checked in and are taken to a room. You both snuggle together as you sit and wait for the nurse to come in.
The nurse comes in. “Hi, what brings you into the ER today?” She asks you.
Before you can explain what happened, Melissa jumps in. “Well this googootz thought it was a smart idea to punch a guy three times her size.” She says giving you a teasing look.
“Too bad you already said how much you love this googootz.” You tease back giving her a playful nudge. “But yes ma’am that is what happened and I think I broke my hand.” You answer the nurse.
“Damn if a broken hand is all you walked away with, I’d hate to see the other guy.” The nurse says.
You and Melissa give each other a look and then chuckle to yourselves.
Turns out you did have small fractures throughout your hand. They put a cast on you and refer you to a doctor to come back and see in a few weeks.
Melissa drives you home and insists that you go straight to the bedroom. You reluctantly follow her orders.
She climbs into bed with you. “I’m not going to lie seeing you defend my honor really turned me on.” She whispers in your ear. “And I would seem ungrateful if I didn’t somehow show my gratitude for my knight in shining armor.” She says in her husky seductive voice.
She then proceeds to undress you with head spinning speed and then starts at your breasts as she bites and sucks and teases clearly marking her territory. Just by that alone she’s already making you wet.
She’s not teasing you tonight, she wants you to know how hungry she is to please you. She gets to your folds and with one motion licks the juices off that she’s created. Your whole body shudders and you let out a little moan.
“Let me hear that beautiful moan of yours pretty girl.” She says in her husky seductive voice.
She slowly glides her fingers up and down your folds until she finds your clit. She rubs it slowly and gently at first, watching you unravel with every touch, she then penetrates you with two fingers and then starts eating you out until you are so tight around her fingers that she knows it’s just a matter of seconds until you reach that orgasmic bliss. She turns her attention back to your clit and rubs fast and hard and just like she thought you break open like a dam and she drinks up your cum like it’s the best drink she’s ever had.
She watches you in awe as you ride out your orgasm high. You look so fucking beautiful she thinks to herself. When you slowly come down she leans over you gazing down with adoration and a loving smile.
“Let me clean you up.” She whispers. She gets off the bed and is gone for a few minutes. “Let me know if this is too hot for you and she puts a warm towel on your leg.
“No baby that’s good.” You say still trying to catch your breath. And then proceeds to clean you up with a warm towel! What is this the platinum sex experience you think to yourself.
After she’s done she climbs back into bed and takes you in her arms.
“Now don’t you dare think this means that I condone this behavior!” She teases you with a playfully nudge.
“I know! I don’t. But can I say it was the best showing of gratitude I’ve ever experienced!” You say with a chuckle.
“Good amore mio.” She says softly as she kisses your head.
“Look at you speaking Italian to me! What does it mean?” You ask as you look at her with genuine curiosity.
“My love.” She whispers softly in your ear.
You look at her with tears filling your eyes.
“I love you Melissa Schemmenti.” You say softly and then you gently kiss her.
“I love you more my knight in shining armor.” She says with a smile.
You two lay there and just bask in the warmth of each other and the love that you share. Until you have to break the silence because the joke you just thought of is too good not to say.
“I wonder if we could make money off of me being a charity case.” You say laughing quietly.
Mel rolls her eyes and then pulls you close and kisses you softly, until you’re on the brink of falling asleep on her chest listening to her heart that beats just for you.
135 notes · View notes
seungmoonandstars · 4 months
Note
No see now hear me out okay. Everyone thinks pegging is this rough, fast paced thing. Its not, its just like any other penetrative sex.
Blind date seungmins reactions to...not full on pegging, but a little...exploring when your giving him head
Okay anon. You've inspired me, and I'm not sure why my mind didn't end up here on its own.
Get on your knees (part 1)
Kim Seungmin/Female Reader
wc: ~1k
rating: explicit/18+ ✴ (contains anal play; m receiving rimming, fingering)
comments: more soft kinks for blind date universe Minnie/F!reader
this is the first part so...tbc PART 2 @milknhoneyracha ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )
⋆⁺₊⋆
The dark of the room is making it difficult to see, but you can hear him. He gets loud. He’s not quite as shy anymore when it comes to letting you know what he likes, but he has his moments.
Seungmin thrusts his hips toward you, slides his leg up and pushes his thighs open more.
Soft, pleading whimpers fall sweetly on your ears. Hands reach, fingers find and grab at whatever he can. He just wants to touch you.
It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and you spent all day yesterday cuddled with him on the couch, talking about your time apart. Clothes on, mostly. Tonight he’s all yours in a completely different way. You told him you’d take care of him, help him unwind, and that’s exactly what you’re doing—you push him deep into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You gag on him, and he gives you a deep, drawn out groan.
He whispers something, and you see the shadow of a smile spread across his lips. His legs part a little more as you lower yourself further onto the bed, and one hand kneads gently into his sensitive thigh. You kiss him there and move your mouth closer to his hole—tight and pink and pretty like the rest of him. You’ve kept your hands off for a very long time, but whenever you get close like this (which is often, because you're down here a lot), you’re tempted more and more.
Before you make another move, though, you peek up at him. Seungmin is flat on his back and perfectly content with the slowness of your pace tonight. His soft little moans have you soaked, and it’s just a matter of time before he pleads for you to take a seat on his face.
The worst he can do now is say no, but something tells you he won’t. Something about everything the two of you have done in your short time together—though it’s been nearly a year of sharing this bed—makes you think your Minnie is open to anything you do that makes him feel good, and anything that makes you happy. He has been so far.
You push his thigh open more, stretch him out and, a little hesitantly, swipe your tongue across him. He tightens up, but there’s no sound of disapproval—no hand coming down to grab at you. Just a sweet, melodic moan.
Another sloppy, wet lick…slower, harder. You wrap your hand around him and stroke slowly. He whispers a fuck…baby just loud enough to hear, and then he’s quiet again. You wet your fingertip. The rest of your attention returns to his cock while your finger is left to explore with, luckily, no protest.
“Minnie…” You say softly, lips pressed into his thigh, “pup?”
”Hmmmm?” He lets it out in a long, breathy moan that sends a chill up your body.
“Remember, a long time ago, I told you that you could give me boundaries?”
“I do,” he giggles and bends his knees, spreading himself open even more. “Mhm, I remember.”
“Good”
You take the invitation and put your mouth on him again, push your tongue in a little deeper.
“You’re such a tease,” he says, and looks down at you, but his face softens and he licks his lips when you—very slowly—push your middle finger in, just to the first knuckle.
“…a big tease, actually.”
You move it in quick, gentle circles as it’s pushed in further. Seungmin closes his eyes and smiles, and you need to give him more, so you suck him to the back of your throat and push your finger in completely. In and out. Up and down. He clenches around you and whines when you take your mouth off of him
“Is this a new feeling, Min?” You’re on your knees, stroking, gently fucking him with one finger. It doesn’t seem like much, and you can’t assume he’s never experimented with himself before—he’s so tight around you, though, you might have trouble with a second finger.
Mhm…he nods.
You feel him push down into your touch.
“Does it feel good?” You stretch him a little more, bend down to wet him again with your tongue.
“Very…good,” it comes out on his exhale and turns into moan, “yeah it’s good.” A roll of his hips stretches him even more around your knuckle. “More.”
It took him some effort to get his voice to stop shaking, so his request comes out husky and serious. You desperately wish the the lube was within reach, but you weren’t expecting this tonight. Instead you let a mouthful of spit fall onto him, pull out, then gently push a second in.
A quiet string of fuck fuck fuck follows.
“Is it too much, pup?” Very slowly, you pull back out.
“Maybe…sorry.”
“Minnie baby, you’re doing so good.” A few kisses on his stomach gets another giggle out of him. “I shouldn’t be doing this without some help anyway.”
Seungmin drops his legs when you crawl to his side and dig in the drawer next to the bed.
“But we don’t have to do anymore if you don’t want to.”
“No I want to,” he reaches a hand out and grabs your thigh. You can see him better from here; his bottom lip is a deep red from biting and licking it, cheeks are flushed, the hair around his temples is damp with sweat. “I…uhm,” he smiles shyly and rubs his face with his other hand.
Just looking down at him from here—at his sweet, innocent face, makes you want to try again. Nothing gets you off like making him scream with pleasure.
“Yes, sweetie?”
Then he smiles wider. His eyes sparkle in the dark. “I like the tongue.”
“Mmm, you want my tongue, yeah?”
Seungmin nods, cups his cheek. He hooks his fingers around your underwear and tugs playfully. Mhm.
You pull out the bottle of lube you were looking for and crawl back down between his legs, "you like it when I lick your tight little asshole?”
He laughs, “yes, I like it...I like it.”
“Good…get on your knees.”
200 notes · View notes
justcallmesakira · 21 days
Note
BESTIE IF U DONT DO THIS REQ N I WILL FACKING EAT UR MUTUALS
DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER!!
she has black cat energy and err makes suicidal jokes here and then but never does t and chuuyas always the one who pulls her away from dazais tendencies because he DOES NOT want reader to follow dazais steps and err dazai and reader have a 2 year gap and err basically dazai took her away with him when he left and thats were she sort of stopped talking BECAUSE BOOM CHIKA BOOM ODAS DEATH LEFT HER MORE TRAUAMATIZED THAN THE KIDS ASAGIRI BLEW UP!!! so errr crack and chuuya and reader is ummmm AHEM AHEM AHEM (cough coug)
AND BASICALLY MORI HAS THIS like obsession of bringing reader back to the mafia like he constantly says stuff like "Dazai, my offer still stands but please remember that i would really really love to see your dear sister back first" LIKE YKNOW WHAT I AM SAYING???????????
DAZAI AND HIS YOUNGER SISTER!
Sypnosis: you are the younger sister of Da-dazai! Is he a great brother or not? UPPP TO YOU! >< oh and maybe hide your secret vists with chuuya please!!
Genre: crack and heavy angst! (dont question it)
Warnings: suicidal themes! cans of gasoline, glitter bombs, reader is very quiet type, manipulation (for good use!)
A/N: yummy yummy
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uh oh! this is gonna be so damn messy
so um first of all! i really think reader would be very intelligent like dazai like oh fuck! i just got under a whole rubble of rocks by some guy who btw is the enemy of my brother quick! think of something
and then theres this bsd aesthetic plan you make and just survive! to the shock of your horror... :D
okay but in all seriousness! he defiently jokingly gave you his suicide guide to if u ever felt inspired by him
VERY VERY NORMAL BROTHER ACTIVITY!!1
dazai stop influencing people around you to plug off them self challenge impossible: GO!!
if you do however join his meticulous activites kunikidas actually going to blow up
😇
but imagine how cute it would be a black cat energy young sis and a golden retriver brother like bish forget romantic relationships like dazai who sometimes forget he left his sister at work!
but ynkow mf dazai always wants to keep close to you because he was never really there (like my fake as friends🙄) back in the mafia! woohoo
so now you can asks him for whatever you want but now he actually feels guilty because you have now become the silent type and dont really talk that much
Great job dazai! best brother everr!❤️
Imagine running away from the mafia with ur lil sister then realising she doesnt even want to talk anymore and that you might actually failed as a big brother even after buying her a whole lotta stuff
COULDNT BE OSAMU DAZAI GUYS!!!
tell him to take you to an amusement park and he will! but dont be surprised if you see him trying to run to jump off a bridge because he does not have for the sake of god any money!
AYY dazai cosplaying toji to get milk? real or fake??? find out here!
dont click on the link :3
ANYWAYS he definetly tries his best to get you back to talking sure the only thing he could do is talk to himself with you beside him doodling some stuff but yknow...it genuinely makes him form a sad smile when he gets reminded that maybe if he were a better brother and actually comforted you it would have ended better
"I saw a cat today yknow! it had a black eye and orange patterns. Somehow it looked wise" dazai said relazing on the chair, his hands behind his head, the whole night of yokohama was quiet only the flicker of the dim light placed underneath the balcony ceiling could be heard.
The night was calm too, it had a soft storm-like feel to it. Dazai knew you were listening thats probably why he would talk to you all these months, no one else was there for him anyway. So its better than nothing.
All of a sudden amdist the silence several pokes tapped on his shoulder which made his eyes widen slightly. You held up your sktechbook infront of his face, a bunch of doodles of him and a full sketch of his side profile
"(Name)... This is amazing! Wow you could be a talented artist yknow!!" he said you didnt know whether he was just flattering you or not because of the emptiness in his eyes. Depression changes a person. But the slight flicker of light in his made it visible to your loud mind. Dazai was glad you made some progress.
Okay now hb your interactions with da agency??
I am pretty sure both you and him joined da agency together (gotta make sure his sister ACTUALLY doesn`t follow his steps!😋😋😋😋)
kunikida may act all cold around you and view u as some kid especially when you randomly make the most random ass suicidal jokes in the middle of a meeting but...
Lets say he sort of checks up on both of you every morning! cant let the dogs out now kunikida! you never know what they do....
iykwimyk
now yosano girlypop is the only person who shows genuine concern for you when you get hurt why? because she was bamboozled when she found out you are dazais sibling like
"huh- are you actually capable of being a brother? more so having family"
dazai be at the corner weeping because of the amount of slander
DESERVEDDDD😍😍😍
I can totally see fukuzawa patting both of you and dazais head after you two collaborated on a mission
IDWGDHYWDFYUDFILOVEFATHERRELATIONSHIPS
he prob randomly call you for tea i mean not too randomly but he likes your black cat energy
speaking of which ranpo and you bully da heck out of criminals before they ultimately mistake you for some god!! /nj
kenji and kyouka just chills around you and tries debating what you and dazai have in common.
belonging in the mental asylum. thats whats common between you two/nj again😁😁
With chuuya
NAWWWWH BRO NAWW☠️
Chuuyas gonna end upl like this emoji☠️☠️☠️
Okay maybe i am over exaggerating this but yknow dazai is like really smart
UNFORTUNATELY!!!
So he will definitely know when ever you two act a little🤭😝😘🤗😍🥰👍
Hes going to get tjat expression from chapter 114 and chew chuuyas expensive tuxedo!!
I bet after he finds out hes straight up going to give chuuya a flashback of stormbringer era!! 😍😁
#verynormalbrother
"W-w-w-what da SKIBIDI [name]??? YOU WILL NOT AND NEVER MEET CHUUYA AGAIN" "wow... and i thought you were trying to become a better brother :(" "YOUNG LA- i-" ":("
He was about to say lad
like manipulative ass brother like sister ig! :33333333
He prob had suspicions back in the mafia especially because of how you mostly stuck around chuuya when he wasnt there
YOUR FAULT BRO!!!
And then u rizzed chuuya up with double black eyes (get it?)
"You know [name] it still hurt me, though i promised i would never say it infront of your face but.." Chuuya said seriousness in his tone looking at you eyes "But please stop looking at me with those cat like eyes they deeply remind of someone and I DO NOT like it"
He ended this funny note with a genuine fear and irritation in his eyes. you only nodded and continued to stare at him, your eyes rivaling a black hole not that hole by the way.
A tingling feeling gathered in himself as chuuya looks at your blank stare "Dont look at me like that!" he raised his flustered voice, a small hue of pink appearing on his cheek which only grew as you held on to his sleeve, snuggling against it like a cat.
But before he could be more flushed a really dark aura crept up behind you and then, right then you knew you fucked up bad.
"i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-cant believe this!" your brothers voice perked up behind you genuine horror on his face as if he just saw his bestfriend die infront of him twice.
"Oh my fucki-" chuuya sighed, both of you are caught. "[name] ICANTBELIEVETHISOMGIAMGOINGTOENDMYSELFLIKEMYOTHERVERSIONFROMANOTHERUNIVERSEWHOLOWEREDYOURSTANDERDSICANTBELIEVETHISHIT" dazai rapped at super speed, an anger and shock unwordable enough for you to be confused at whatever hes yapping about. "DAZAI what the fuck??" now chuuya was confused too.
"ANDYOU, HERMANADAPUTA (sisterfucker in english) YOUUGLYSHORTMFWITHNOFLAGSNONOTHING,YOUTRUSTISSUED?IWILLGIVEYOUPRISONFORLIFEISSUES" "WHAT IS YOU BROTHER YAPPING ABOUT?"
And all you could do was watch in horror as the scene unfolds infront of you. But safe to say you got in big trouble when you went back home!
anyways dazais going to go full on 8 cans of gasoline on the portmafia if more is obsessed with you like him
and then you realised..
"fOr tHe fIrSt TiMe iN fOrEVer" he actually did/nj
Okay okay but in all seriousness (litearlly @justcallmesakira catchphrase guys!!) Dazai would genuinely become more protective of you if mori was targeting towards you.
i would run away to antarctica too if mori even tried interacting with me
SHES A RUNNER SHES A TRACKSTAR!!!!!🏃💨
But if you are intelligent then i guess you met fyodor too? And maybe some sort of rivalry goes on between you two like "oh its my brothers enemy, gotta help my bro blow him up!"
I have nothing much to say because dazai would make secret plans (which you alrdy know) to make sure mori doesnt get too close with you
Like oh he was planning to approach you that day? BOOM dazai is already there. Yeah like that
If mori says that however... Dazai will reply with a dark eyed gloom,tilting his head back creepily "You will have to need more then the whole of port mafia to interact with my sister"
Dazai hates mori alot and though he knows that you are old enough to handle situations that doesnt mean he wont care for his only sister. You are the only thing left that he can protect without feeling inhumanity or faraway.
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A/N: HATE THISSSS NOOOUUU
Tags: @inojuuy @biscuits-spooky-corner @terururuko @little-miss-chaoss @saelique @silverbladexyz @typcallysid14 @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon
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lvlyghost · 7 months
Text
Half My Soul: II
PAIRINGS: John Price x F!Reader
SUMMARY: The morning after John takes you home.
WORD COUNT: 1.4k
TW: smut, suggestive themes. john is the man we all deserve! descriptions of injuries. reader gets a tiny bit of background. mentions of abuse. comfort, fluff. think that's it. lmk if i missed any. mind the english!
A/N: i'm so very sorry for how long i made you wait! here's the final part. maybe i wasn't dealing with lack of inspiration it would've been longer, i even had planned another situation for this fic but oh well. i may turn it into a separate drabble. enjoy💕💫
Masterlist✨Part 1
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John looks up from his phone when you walk in, he was about to take a sip from his tea mug. You're wearing one of his shirts that's nearly too big for your body. He likes it when you wear his clothes, not that he'd say it out loud. Not that it was the first time he had seen you wearing his shirts; the black hoodie he had insisted you could keep now ruined because of the blood and the lower part of the fabric that had been torn apart.
He clears his throat. Setting both the mug and mobile down.
"Sleep well?" He asks.
You hum in response.
"Too early to be awake if you ask me." John chuckles when you roll your eyes feigning annoyance.
He was far too good to you. Too good for your own sake. You didn't want to think of how inappropriate it was that you were at his apartment, wearing his clothes. Sleeping on his bed. It also didn't help that he was wearing just a pair of black sweatpants. This thing between the two of you whatever it was... made your stomach flutter and your heart warm when he looked at you the way he was right about now.
"There's coffee for you." He declares. "Know you don't fancy tea. A terrible mistake, may I add." There's a playful grin on his lips when you laugh. "How's your body?" His voice drops a few degrees. You know he's trying to be nonchalant about it but you know him. You know he's worried. Know that he hates the man who hurt you with all his being.
What you don't know is what he did as soon as he woke up. It took one more glance to your face and body. One glance to the bruises and scratches and he was climbing on his pickup truck. John knew the address. He had intended to have a civilized conversation with your father; after all you didn't want him to get hurt, despite him making your life a living hell. One thing led to another. A heated argument. Shouting and swearing. He couldn't let that monster speak about you the way he did. A staring contest. Hands pushing the other. And then there where punches being thrown. He didn't care if he was a former ranger back in the states. There was no real pride in what he did. Fuck him. He was glad he got discharged from the military. He gave soldiers a bad name. He was a blemish in everything they stood for.
"My eye's not swollen anymore. That steak really came in handy." You joke remembering the night before, when you both got to his home. And John wants to laugh, he's aware you're trying to joke about it. To brush it off like it meant nothing. Why were you such a beautiful person? No one deserved you. "Really John? The mug's on the top shelf!" You sigh, standing on your tiptoes stretching as much as you can but only had managed to graze the cabinet door to open it.
John snorts at the sight of you trying to reach it, so he stands from the stool and gently pats your shoulder, giving you a soft squeeze as he reaches out for it without effort and placing it in your hand.
"You made it look like it was hard, love. Was starting to think if I could do it myself."
You hit his arm in a playful manner making him chuckle.
"Thank you John." You murmur. He staring down at you intently. Like there was nothing else in the world to him.
"It's just a..."
"I mean for everything." You interrupt him. At first you hesitate but end up grazing his fingers until you take his hand in yours. It's warm and bigger than yours, it swallows your own entirely. Both of you stop breathing when the silence settles. Outside the sky is cloudy, rain threatening to pour down anytime soon.
"Lovely." He mutters.
"What?"
"You, love. Just you."
Something shifts in the air after those words. John and you... had been holding back each other's feelings. You more than him. He wasn't fighting them anymore and neither were you. Who were you lying to?
Just yourself. The man cared for you like no one else did. He pours some coffee in your cup with his eyes set on you all the time, even when you take a sip and place it back on the kitchen counter. "Want me to check your wounds?" He asks, but you're not listening anymore. You're lost in the deep sea that his eyes are. In the way he cleaned up your wounds yesterday. Something you had done to him many, many times before. Lost in the moment when he saw your deteriorating state last night, the anger that sparked in his blue eyes. You inhale deeply, the smell of his cologne and cigars.
John shifts his weight from one foot to another. You were staring in silence. He wonders if you're regretting accepting his invitation to his home. God knows that if you decided to leave that would be the end of him.
Why were you so silent all of the sudden? Had he made a mistake?
Bloody hell.
"No need for that John. I just need you."
And you grab him by the back of his neck pulling him down for a gentle kiss. His strong arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together. His lips are soft and mouth warm, you wish you could do more... maybe you can.
"Y'know how long I've waited for this?" He asks, voice raspy. A small kiss on your nose. His eyes are bright and adoringly watching you. "If I could stay like this forever..."
He kisses you again and lifts you up so your legs immediately wrap around his waist. John handles your body with so much care it makes your heart flutter, he avoids touching where the bruises are more prominent on your abdomen as he walks barefooted to the living room.
John lays both of you slowly onto the couch so that you're straddling his lap and he gives you the most gentle squeeze on your hip while his other hand tuck back a strand of hair behind your ear. It's a silent ask. A silent plea.
Do I have you permission? Can I make you mine?
And you nod. You kiss him again. Hard and hungrily. Biting down his lips. You too have waited for this. All the pent up desire that's been building over months. The longing stares, the casual touches. It's all led to this very moment where your—his— shirt get tossed to the floor, his pants don't make it all the way down and your underwear is merely pushed aside. The embarrassing amount of slick that coats your folds when John slides his fingers up and down your cunt making you gasp. His hands already making wonders that your own could never. Or the sight of his sheer size; he's big, you wonder if he'll even fit all the way, so he prepares you. Fingers slip in and out, limbs trembling as he works you through your climax and orgasm. Makes you forget about everything, about not being cared for before about all the pain that was your life before he showed up with his acts of service and unyielding protection. No one ever truly cared for you the way John did. No man could ever come close to him.
"John..." you moan his name, lips parted. "Please."
He wastes no time and he's finally sliding inside you. Blue eyes never leaving yours. And he's fucked. He has been for a long time, the moment he saw you. The first time you smiled at him.
His body shudders at the sensation of you swallowing him whole, not being able to think of anything else than being consumed by the woman on top of him. He wants you not just for today but for eternity. Another heated kiss when you're both nearing the end. A muttered promise to love you, a lone tear and soft graze of his hands as you come undone.
Falling apart together, deep breaths and mumbles of soft nothings into each other's arms. You trace his lips as he tries to even his ragged breathing. The faintest sheen of sweat that pearls his body.
"This isn't so bad."
John smirks.
"Not at all, love. Not at all."
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arealphrooblem · 1 year
Text
Mutually Assured Destruction Pt 2
THANK YOU SO MUCH to the huge response to this, I never expected that being so new to this circle of writers. I squealed at every like and reblog and comment.
Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.
Part 1 here. Tagging @heroes-villains-side-blog and @follow-me-into-the-fog
The taqueria was dimly lit with Formica tables and brightly colored murals of vaguely Mexican landscapes, which meant the tacos were obscenely good.
Civilian tried hard not to be grateful as they bit into their taco as delicately as they could, their fingers stained with the mess of the previous taco. Jonathan’s tacos, on the other hand, had remarkable structural integrity and did not break once.
“How are you doing that?” they blurted out.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow as he dotted away taco grease with his napkin. “Doing what?”
“Your tacos don’t fall apart. How?”
“Perhaps that’s my power.” He smirked.
Civilian rolled their eyes, trying not to let the spike in their heart rate show on their face. So caught up in the surrealness of a dinner date, they had almost forgotten just what a precarious position they were in.
In fact, despite the blatant coercion to be here, this did not rank as the worst date Civilian ever had. Not even in the top ten. Jonathan paid for dinner, fetched napkins and extra beer, and allowed Civilian the space to quietly freak out while he ate in contented silence.
“I’ve never had a taco shell that didn’t break in my entire life, so I almost believe you.”
He gives them that same calculating stare he did in the elevator. “You’re not curious about what I can do?”
“No.” (A lie).
“Really? Not even a little?”
“I think knowing would make it worse.” (The truth).
Just knowing his aura has garnered too much attention as it was.
He smirked. “Afraid if you knew, I’d never let you go?”
Hearing their deepest fear voiced aloud caused a dizzy swoop in their gut. It wasn’t just Jonathan Civilian had to worry about. If anyone knew their true power, they would be a target to the Agency, to other villains, to the government. They could kiss their freedom goodbye.
Being “courted” by Jonathan was the least of their worries, and yet it meant the the threat of their freedom as a constant presence. If there was a chance Civilian could talk their way out of this arrangement, they had to take it.
Civilian swallowed. “You’re not actually serious about this, right? This fake dating thing?”
“Of course I’m serious.” He leaned forward across the table and Civilian unconsciously mirrored him. “I have certain plans in place. You are the one person who could disrupt them.”
“The last thing I want is to get involved with whatever the hell it is you’re doing,” Civilian hissed. “I’m not a hero.”
“There’s no way I can know right now that with any certainty. And so, until I do, you will have a very dedicated and considerate partner.”
Civilian bit back a groan as they imagined the kind of gossip this sudden relationship would inspire, especially since Civilian tried so hard to avoid Jonathan before. Wait a second . . .
“HR doesn’t allow workplace relationships,” they said triumphantly. “They would fire us.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he found Civilian’s protests amusing. “That rule only bans relationships between superiors and the people that work under them. It doesn’t apply to us. Don’t worry, I will file our relationship with HR tomorrow morning since tonight marks our first date.”
Shit damn fuck. Civilian could protest the relationship or they could report Jonathan to HR for stalking or harassment but that only puts a target on Civilian’s back for his retaliation. He could kill them or worse -- report them.
Mutually assured destruction.
Jonathan drains the rest of his beer before nodding to Civilian’s unfinished food.
“Let me get you a to-go box and we shall be on our way, then?”
He drove them back to the parking garage at work and walked Civilian to their car. Civilian wasted no time getting their keys out, gripped by the sudden fear that perhaps Jonathan would reconsider letting them walk free.
And indeed when his hand darted out and gripped their door before it could shut, Civilian’s heart leaped in their throat.
“You’re going to leave before our goodnight kiss?” he asked, his gaze expectant and serious.
“What?” Civilian choked.
He held that stare for a moment before an evil smirk broke across his face.
“The look on your face. I should be insulted at how abhorrent the thought is to you. Goodnight, Civilian. I will see you in the morning.”
A threat and a promise.
Civilian feels the weight of his stare all the way out to the streets.
Part Three Here
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daffi-990 · 5 months
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✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨
Soooo I mentioned last week that I’d found a title for Rival Firefighters 🚒 …
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I even made a little banner for when I start posting (which won’t be for a while yet).
Title is from the song Haven’t Had Enough by Marianas Trench which I am currently obsessed with 😍 (seriously some days I just listen to it on repeat for ages, especially when I’m driving).
And here’s a little snippet from a scene that’s been fighting me for weeks but today I actually made progress with 😭. Thank you @thewolvesof1998 for reading over what I sent you and making sure it made sense and for your very helpful suggestions ❤️
He makes his way from car to car checking in on each one’s occupants, offering up first aid if needed. It’s repetitive work and Buck finds himself getting bored until his eyes spot a familiar name on the back of a turnout coat. Now things are going to get a lot more lively.
Buck makes his way over to where Diaz is finishing applying a Band-Aid to an elderly gentleman’s forehead.
“As I said before, you don’t have a concussion but if you start feeling dizzy or anything out of the ordinary, call your daughter okay?” The old man nods in agreement, Diaz patting him on the shoulder before collecting his things and getting to his feet.
“Firefighter Diaz, it’s been a while.” Buck says in greeting as the other firefighter turns around.
Diaz’s hair is sweaty and loose, a few strands falling forward over his forehead that have Buck’s fingers twitching with the want to touch. His face is coated in a mix of dust and maybe car oil? Buck doesn’t know exactly what the black stuff is but it is a look and Diaz is pulling it off.
Diaz clenches his jaw as his eyes harden. “Not long enough.” He mutters, walking past Buck.
“Oh come on!” Buck follows after him. “I bet you’ve missed me. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
Buck certainly missed Diaz and his big brown eyes and thick fucking thighs that are connected to such a glorious ass. He really wishes the man wasn’t wearing his turnouts. It’s a crime to keep an ass like that locked away.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder but I still find you incredibly annoying and wish you’d stay gone.” Diaz shoots back, looking 100% done with Buck and the conversation.
Buck also missed this, whatever this is. He gets such a high from flirting with and teasing Diaz. Maybe it’s the hard to get ideal that’s doing it for him, but whatever it is, Buck likes riling Diaz up and today is no different.
“You wound me!” Buck clutches at his heart in mock offense. He expects an eye roll or another bitchy response, but Diaz just keeps walking, doing a wonderful job at pretending Buck doesn’t exist. Which, rude.
No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @athenagranted @exhuastedpigeon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @steadfastsaturnsrings @jamespearce9-1-1 @devirnis @callmenewbie @disasterbuckdiaz @djdangerlove @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @weewootruck and as always, anyone else who would like to share something 🥰
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hillbillyoracle · 2 years
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Fuck Goals, Fuck Vision Boards
Task Management for Planning Averse
AKA Even People with Zero Direction in Life Deserve Nice Things
So if you don’t already follow Dana K. White on YouTube, you should. She’s the author of the blog A Slob Comes Clean and several books. What I’m going to talk about below is heavily inspired by her work which is why I wanted to cite her upfront but also seriously go check her videos out if you’re trying to declutter and get organized. 
Right now I’m mostly using her videos and it’s genuinely the only decluttering method that has ever worked for me. And one of the reasons it works for me where others haven’t is that it is a system that doesn’t rely on feelings or valuation. 
I realized that as I’ve gotten better at task management in my life - though lord knows the move has made that more complicated - I realized that not using feelings or judgement based questions is what really helped me. I also realized that I had 100% completely given up on goals. I had neglected to set goals for a couple years now and weirdly I got more productive, not less. What gives? 
Step 0: Give Up on Goals and the Fantasy Self
What I realized is that goals were really just a product of what a lot of decluttering folks call my “fantasy self”. My fantasy self woke up at 5am and did little work out videos but trying to leap to become that fantasy self fucking sucked. It was not enjoyable once the novelty wore off and it largely didn’t present enough benefit to justify doing it. 
Which meant I would stop and then I would feel bad about myself and I’d pick up bad habits to cope with the feeling and then I was worse off than before. 
So when I stopped setting goals, I stopped declining at least because there wasn’t that rebound effect where I self soothed using way too much ice cream and binge watching whatever I could find. I hit a baseline that wasn’t amazing but the stability was helpful. Only when I gave up on the fantasy life did my actual life get better.
Capitalism loves the fantasy self. People spend so much money to try to become their fantasy self and often don’t even benefit that much from it. Then the guilt of seeing that stuff around can lead folks to by more stuff to cope with the guilt. The only people winning are the companies who you buy from. 
Also, folks with executive dysfunction have a very hard time picturing what done looks like. So trying to picture your “ideal day” is low key a nightmare experience for someone like me. Mission Statements can be real intimidating when you’re not totally sure what those words will mean for the decisions you make. Vision boards...I’m sorry I know some folks love them but I really do not enjoy them. They’re a sensory overload of an experience to me from the crafting to taking them in. I’ve never made a vision board that really did much for me. 
I’ve also recently learned about The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin and I am definitely a Rebel. So too much pressure internal or external and I will find the quickest exit possible. Rebels are a small but sizeable portion of folks according to the authors research. Which means there are likely other people out there who also find goals to be way too much fucking pressure. 
This is all to say - fuck goals. But you’ve still got a life to live so how do you move the needle in the positive direction? 
Step 1: Initial Brain Dump
People would always tell me to brain dump but never really explained how. They were like “Yeah just get all this stuff in your head out on paper” and I’m like...I don’t even know what’s in my head unless I go looking for it. 
So I offer you two questions and two methods of gathering answers. 
When trying to brain dump, ask yourself: 
What do I spend a lot of time thinking about? 
What are the specific tasks associated with these subjects? 
If you can’t think of next specific tasks associated with those subjects, it does necessarily mean you need to strike it off you list, it’ll just be a little tougher to know where it fits. 
Sometimes I’m able to sit down and answer these questions all in one go. And sometimes it’s much easier to keep a running list in my phone and when I realize I’ve been thinking a lot about something I add it to the list. Then later I can sit down and come up with specific tasks or process it in step 2. 
Step 2: Task Punnett 
In step 2 I look at my list and ask myself two questions:
Do I already spend time doing this? 
Will I face a negative result if I don’t do this? 
This gives four categories a list item can be sorted into. 
Yes/Yes
The goal here is to prevent burnout so you don’t stop spending time doing these. Common ones are cooking, cleaning, or seeing friends. So it’s important to look at each of these and make sure they’re as easy and enjoyable as possible. 
It also helps to know what your minimum is for each so that if you’re burning out you can scale back to your minimum effective dose is that allows you to avoid the material harm but give you a break - like getting take out or having freezer meals on hand, knowing what the most important cleaning tasks are and only doing those, and at least sending texts or voice memos to friends to connect.
Yes/No
The goal here is to protect this time as much as possible. It’s what tends to go when Yes/Yes and No/Yes tasks start to get out of hand. That will look different for different people but it almost always involves capping Yes/Yes and No/Yes time and not allowing yourself to go over. As you might have guess most hobbies go here. 
Some people will need other people to help encourage them to keep doing it. Some people will need flexibility so it feels like they’re truly choosing it. Some people will need to refresh their memory that these kinds of activities are just as necessary as other types of tasks. 
Guilt and shame is a big one that keeps people from having many things going in this box but it can also be a lack of self knowledge too. We’re not exactly encouraged to explore what we truly deeply love. Mental illness can also make this box tricky as anhedonia can make everything feel bleh. 
In all of these cases, I really suggest making some sort of reflective practice something you try to keep in this box so you can notice what triggers guilt, what sparks joy, and what just isn’t working after a while. Doesn’t have to be journaling in the traditional sense. I used to turn on my computer cam and just talk but now that I need more audio privacy, this has been really helping me.  
No/Yes
I fucking hate this box in all honesty. It’s the one that drains me and makes me feel like shit to look at this list but also I feel the most badass when I actually complete something off of it. 
The goal with this box is to figure out what’s blocking you from this being a Yes/Yes. Basically finish the sentence “I don’t really want to do this because...” and you’re on your way. Most barriers can be dealt with. I used to not believe this but I promise it’s true. 
This is where having a therapist, good friend, or community where you can bounce ideas off of can really make all the difference. A reflection practice can also really help get a different perspective too.  Sometimes the barriers loom so large in our mind that adaptation seems ridiculous or impossible. Take advantage of different perspectives. 
Automation, delegation, and congregation (body double or a group) are incredibly useful tools here. Don’t do more here than you need to. 
What’s key in the second question for this section is that this is something you have the power to impact the outcome of. If you don’t have the power to change the outcome or you’ve done all you can, then the task is bracing, mitigating, and accepting, not dealing with the topic/task head on. 
No/No
There are 2 main things I find in this category - shit I agreed to because I felt obligated and someday maybe projects. For shit I agreed to, the only remedy is to just get out of it, to bail in the most graceful way possible. I also try to prevent stuff from winding up here to begin with (no more event planning for me for a while). 
For someday maybe projects, I like to keep a space - usually Notion - where I can collect my thoughts on it, projects, and pain a picture of what it would take to make it a Yes/No task someday in the future - always keeping in mind what I could do with the materials and time I have available right now. I’ve picked a quite a few of my No/No tasks this way and made them things I do regularly because I left myself those breadcrumbs for later. 
Step 3: Prioritizing without Feelings
So now you have your tasks organized into these buckets and know what to keep in mind with each. So...what do you do with them? 
A lot of people will tell you to prioritize and do the hardest first while your willpower is strong but I say fuck that my willpower is never strong so we’re going to do easiest first to build up some confidence. 
No/No - For obligations that no longer serve me, I bail. For someday maybe projects, I write up some quick notes in my little system in Notion.
Yes/No - gather and prep materials, block out time, ask someone to do it with you or find a group if needed
Yes/Yes - gather and prep materials, if burning out, switch to minimum viable
No/Yes - figure out the barriers, automate, delegate, congregate, list next steps
Stuck Tasks - Too much to go into here but this video is helpful.
Sometimes I bounce around a bit - dealing with a Yes/Yes task will suddenly give me the guts to deal with a stuck task, getting out of a No/No obligation will make a No/Yes task look easier. So I don’t limit myself to this. But when I’m having trouble I go back to the list and just trust. 
If I have avoided doing a No/Yes task for anywhere from several days to several weeks - it’s official a stuck task and I bounce it there while I work through other No/Yes tasks to deal with later. 
Sometimes time pressures will dictate that things need to be handled before others - that’s fine. But usually a crunch will either show you that you will not in fact face a negative consequence after all or give you a motivation boost to carry you through some of the difficult tasks. 
Step 4: Doing it again
So when do you do it again? 
I do my brain dumps on Sundays and sort them into area of life lists so I can work on them by theme or focus but honestly whenever. When I was really in the throws of some bad mood shit I’d only do it every few weeks or so. Any amount of doing this generally had lead to a better life though. 
What about stuff I’m not thinking a lot about? 
That usually means either you’ve got such a good system for it that it’s running on autopilot so why mess with success, the possible reward is not appealing enough, or the possible consequences don’t freak you out enough. 
This isn’t really a system I use for creating like...a good life by a neurotypical standard. It’s what I use to manage the stress, concern, and daydreams I’m having right now, to get things off of my plate and grow my confidence. 
So will this mean everything gets managed? No. But it does mean the stuff most likely to keep you up at night does. Which is a huge fucking boon. 
Conclusion
There’s some more intricacies in this too like moving No/No projects to Yes/No and No/Yes projects to Yes/Yes - it’s not the same strategies in my experience - but this is already running long. 
Hope this helps someone else out too! 
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rosesofenvy · 11 months
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I was very inspired by @sha-biest goldenfuture au so I wrote a drabble for some of her most recent posts that I’m linking below! (they're also linked in the fic)
The arm incident
Leoichi
Kendratello
Check out the goldenfutureau tag if you’re confused!
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I'll Be the Sweetest Thing To Ever Scare You (5350 words) by rosesofenvy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Leonardo (TMNT)/Yuichi Usagi, Donatello/Kendra (TMNT) Characters: Leonardo (TMNT), Donatello (TMNT), Yuichi Usagi, Kendra (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), April O'Neil (TMNT), Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Agent John Bishop (TMNT) Additional Tags: goldenfutureau, shabiest golden future, Post Movie, Violence, Loss of Limbs, bishop is a dick, kidnapped donnie, saving donnie from bishop, both leo and donnie lose an arm, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Hurt, lots of comfort, Nightmares, Injury Recovery, lowkey donnie whump, but kendra makes him laugh so it's all ok
Summary: Leo doesn't regret his choices to safe Donnie from Bishop, it just means a longer recovery for everyone involved.
Enjoy :)
Leo doesn’t regret his decision. 
Donnie had been missing for a week, a week of no contact, a week of frantic searches, and a week of desperate calls to every friend and enemy they had ever encountered. They spared no expense in their efforts to find him, but it was almost a slap in the face to find that Donnie had been so close to them all along - he hadn’t even been taken out of New York. The sudden burst of Donnie’s mystic energy, coordinates and maps tracing to his exact location had been a source of relief and frustration as they mobilized and moved out. 
Leo doesn’t regret moving when he did. 
Raph and Mikey were holding down the lower levels of the base, guaranteeing their escape route since their abilities were dampened by whatever that mad scientist Bishop had cooked up. Leo was in charge of the extraction of their brother since he was by far the fastest and they were relying on the element of surprise here. Someone who’d been able to take down Donnie without their knowledge wasn’t someone they were taking lightly. Whatever Bishop had installed in the building had disabled most of their mystic powers, he can’t even risk using his portals if he didn’t want to lose a limb. 
That doesn’t matter, he didn’t need mystic powers. He would tear this building apart with his bare hands if that meant he’d get his brother back safe. Faceless scientists run screaming past him, those who attempt to stop his progression are swiftly taken care of. Whether or not those rebuffs are nonlethal doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s reached the main lab. Kendra had shown him the blueprints, this entire floor was a blackout but he could assume it followed the general path that the previous labs had. As he bounds up the stairwell - and enters the open floor plan, every sense screams to high alert. 
Even though Kendra was controlling every electrical aspect to the lab, this floor only had emergency lights. Even with the low glow of bulbs placed too far apart Leo’s senses are overwhelmed. There’s too much. Wires sparking from where they’d been torn from the wall blood on the floor static from a radio system now defunct thanks to Kendra’s interference blood on the wall his brother's blood everywhere. It reeks of iron and metal and sickness and despite the nausea curling in his gut Leo doesn’t hesitate to sprint forward because there’s his fucking brother. 
Leo doesn’t regret throwing himself directly into the path of danger despite every time he’s been told to stop being such a self sacrificial idiot. 
Donnie is crumpled near some sort of shadowed metal robot. Leo can’t quite make out the details with the intermittent flicker from the emergency lights, but it doesn’t matter as he darts across the length of the lab. He couldn’t see any humans in this room, something that made his scales itch with paranoia as he searched the dark corners of the lab for movement but he can’t afford to waste his attention on the absence of a being when what he came for is right in front of him. As he’s almost to Donnie, the robot his brother is kneeled in front of activates with a flash of red and a creaking of metal. 
Leo regrets not moving faster. 
There’s a blankness in Donnie’s gaze that makes Leo’s heart clench as the softshell staggers to his feet, clearly exhausted and with blood dripping from a number of wounds. Despite standing, he sways and Leo can see that Donnie doesn’t or maybe can’t register the danger directly to his right. Leo can’t tell if Donnie even recognizes him.
“Donnie! Move! ” Leo screams, finally getting in range of his brother, but it’s still not enough. There’s a red light shining over the both of them, a warning burst of heat just as Leo wraps his left arm around Donnie’s shell and uses his momentum to shove them both out of the way. The blaze that wraps around Leo’s shell and scorches his arm clean off is so sudden that he doesn’t register what had happened until Donnie is on the floor beneath him. Pain radiates from the remains of his arm and he gasps through clenched teeth as he takes in Donnie’s uncomprehending stare and the blood slowly seeping from the partially cauterized remains of the softshell's left arm. Leo slams his panic button as he takes in the physical wounds Donnie had suffered over the past week. 
“You gotta keep your eyes open for me, we gotta wait for Raph, no passin' out yet.” Leo pants desperately, trying to follow his own order as he practically collapses over Donnie, "Is anyone still here?” 
Donnie’s eyes flicker open, and Leo follows the path of his gaze up to where he recognizes an observational balcony. Leo didn't see it before in his desperation to grab Donnie, but there’s an outline of a man holding some sort of control panel. Bishop. Leo’s grip on Donnie’s shoulder tightens, but the human makes no move towards and instead sinks into the shadows where Leo couldn’t follow. The building shakes and Leo tries to lift Donnie, but it’s useless with the weakness that has filled his limbs. Pounding footsteps reach his ears and Leo turns to see Raph emerge from the same stairwell he had run up just moments earlier. 
“Leo, Donnie!” Raph’s voice is frantic as he runs into the room. Leo feels his muscles going limp despite his best efforts to remain conscious as their older brother scoops them both up, then punches the machine to destroy the glass embedded in the robot that had nearly killed them both. The floor splinters beneath their feet and Raph wastes no time making their escape. 
Leo regrets not being able to stay conscious during the destruction of the lab. He would’ve liked to revel in the downfall of one of Bishop’s pride and joys. 
Waking up in the med bay was unfortunately a familiar experience for Leo. The steady beep of a heart monitor - although it was doubled for some reason, the scent of antiseptic, and the herculean effort it took to pry open his eyelids. 
The light was nearly blinding as he tilted his head to the side, registering the flow of drugs from the IV drip making his limbs feel heavy and grimacing at the dryness of his mouth. Mikey was sitting in a chair at his bedside, and at his movement the box turtle leaps up and grips the bars to the bed. 
“Leo! Are you awake?” 
Leo can’t do much more than click in response, already wanting to go back to sleep but the stress in Mikey’s expression keeps him conscious. How long had he been out for Mikey to look so concerned? What had even happened this time? What were they all doing before…
“Here, I’ve got some water for ya,” Mikey says quickly, grabbing a cup and urging Leo to drink, “Do you want-” 
“Donnie?!” Leo interrupts, voice rough as the memory of his brother, bloody and bruised, surfaces. He realizes through the sludge of the painkillers that he’d managed to grab Mikey’s hand before he could help him with the water and his grip was trembling as he searched Mikey’s face for answers. “Is he here? Is he ok?” 
“Donnie’s fine,” Mikey reassures, pointing over Leo’s shoulder, “look he’s right there.” At Mikey’s gesture Leo lets his head fall to the other side and can see Donnie laying flat on his plastron still passed out. That nausea swirls again at the sight of all the bandages and wires that seemed to mirror what was hooked up to Leo so he tilts back towards Mikey with a small sigh of relief. 
“Does Yuichi know?” He asks after he takes a few sips of blessedly cool water and can talk without it feeling like his throat is being carved to pieces. 
“Can you worry about yourself for two seconds Leo?” Mikey murmurs miserably as he fidgets with Leo's blankets, “What do you remember? Raph didn’t see what happened and Kendra couldn’t pull cameras since Bishop had everything disabled on that floor.” 
“I had to get Donnie out of the way,” Leo replies with a frown, “If I didn’t then…” It all hits him at once. The scene in the lab, the blood, the pain of a part of him being rendered from existence. He rolls his gaze down to his right arm, feeling an odd choking feeling overtake him as he realizes that his arm ends at the bicep, wrapped tightly in stark white bandages. 
“Bishop had built something, I couldn’t see all of it since the power had been cut to most of the lab, but Donnie had just been left there. When I was trying to get to him, it lit up and I realized…” He trails off, swallowing hard as he recalls the sharp angles and the alien features of the robot, a shape that had often haunted nightmares, “If I didn’t get him out of the way, then he would’ve-” his words are cut off by his own choked sob. He’d been so close to losing his brother. Donnie was so close to being gone because of some stupid fucking scientist. 
“Ok ok I got it,” Mikey quickly says, trying to calm the rising heart rate of his older brother and prevent those pained noises from escalating.  
“You gotta tell Yuichi, Mikey you gotta call him, it’s been a week he’s probably worried sick, ” Leo gasps, tightening his grip on Mikey’s arm. The guilt of unintentionally keeping Yuichi in the dark was eating at every ounce of air in his chest. 
“I will, I’ll get Raph to do it right now ok?” promises replies, holding onto Leo’s hand with both of his until he can feel Leo’s grip loosening and can see his eyelids fluttering. 
“Okay,” Leo mumbles, the burst of energy leaving him as quickly as it had arrived. “Mikey imma sleep now ‘kay?” 
“That’s fine Leo, rest up,” Mikey whispers, patting Leo’s hand as the slider relaxes and almost instantly falls back asleep. Mikey breathes a sigh of relief once he’s sure Leo’s under then sends a text to Raph. 
-------
Yuichi knew that it wasn’t necessarily uncommon for Leo to go radio silent on missions, it came with the territory of keeping the world safe. However, it’d been a week at this point and with the abruptness of Leo’s departure, he was anxiously pacing the length of his room and overthinking everything that could’ve gone wrong. It had become his habit within the week, spending his downtime in this way but the routine is interrupted when his phone begins buzzing. 
He leaps at where it had been set on his bedside table, dropping it on the floor once before he manages to hold onto it, seeing Leo’s caller ID and nearly crying with relief. 
“Leo! It’s been a week, are you ok? What happened to Donnie?” He rattles off once he answers, clutching his phone up to his ear and holding his breath for the response. 
There’s a beat of silence before Raph replies. 
“Hey Usagi, I don’t want you freaking out ok?” Raph greets gently, “I’m gonna tell you what happened and then Mikey’s gonna bring you over here.” 
“What went wrong? Is Leo hurt?” Usagi questions anxiously, feeling his phone beginning to creak with how tightly he was holding it. All of the worst case scenarios he’d been considering claw their way to the forefront of his mind. 
“Leo and Donnie were both seriously injured in the escape from the lab that Donnie was being held in, but they’re both alive and recovering,” Raph reports, “Leo’s been in and out of consciousness for the past day and he just woke up for longer than just a few minutes. He’s been asking for you. Are you ok to come over?” 
“Yes yes of course,” Usagi replies quickly, darting around to grab his katana and tug on his shoes, “Get me over there.” 
A golden portal opens in front of him as he’s pocketing his phone and Usagi doesn’t hesitate to step through. Once the spots clear from his vision he sees that Mikey had pulled him into the atrium of their lair, both Mikey and Raph waiting for him. He can see the exhaustion in their expressions and it makes the anxiety that had been simmering begin to boil over. 
“Where is he?” Usagi demands, dropping his katana onto the nearest empty surface and flicking his ears to see if he can catch any sound of the slider. He can hear the slightly raised heartbeats of the brothers in front of him before he catches the steady electrical beeps further into the lair.
“I’ll take you to him,” Mikey says, raising his hands in a placating gesture, “He’s still kind of out of it from the painkillers, but he’s been asking about you since he woke up.” 
Usagi knows that’s supposed to reassure him but it just makes his heart beat harder as he follows Mikey to the medical bay. He’s seen Leo hurt before, but it was very rare that he or any of the brothers had to be completely hospitalized. Their healing factors often kicked in before it was needed, so the thought of both of them being injured badly enough to need serious painkillers was nerve wracking. Since Donnie was on the far side of the room, Usagi’s gaze catches on the softshell before he fully enters and turns to see Leo. 
He’s not sure what to look at first, eyes flickering from the bruises under Leo’s eyes to the bandages wrapping around his upper chest and his right arm - his right arm that was gone from the elbow down. He can’t help his gasp, moving quickly to Leo’s bedside. Leo opens his eyes at the vocalization, gaze taking a moment to focus before he smiles gently. 
“Yuichi,” He says, voice soft but clearly rough from disuse as Usagi scans the lines of IV’s and wires before leaning over and cradling Leo’s head. He wraps his arms as gently as he could, tucking Leo’s head against his own as he whispers his name. He waits until he can hear the steadiness of Leo’s heartbeat before he takes a shuddered breath and shifts to hide his face against Leo.  
“‘Chi?” Leo inquires, drawing back a bit as he can feel the heat of Yuichi’s tears against the side of his neck. 
Yuichi moves back just enough to meet Leo’s eyes as he bites back the angry choking thing that wants to scream about unfairness and instead presses his cheek against Leo’s, seeing the tears budding in the slider’s eyes. 
“Don’t you dare do this again,” He whispers fiercely, “Next time you leave, I’m coming with you.” He can feel Leo’s tears mingling with his own, and it takes only a tilt of his head to connect the two of them in a kiss. Usagi would normally worry about the fact that Leo’s brothers were likely still nearby, and would be concerned if Leo was in any pain with the proximity, but all he can think about is how he nearly lost the slider and he would’ve only known when his brothers had been able to contact him. He curls the fingers he has cradling the back of Leo’s neck, feeling the slider sigh into his mouth before he pulls back and searches out Yuichi’s hand with his remaining one. Once their fingers are intertwined, Leo visibly relaxes. 
“I won’t Yuichi, promise.” 
“Damn straight,” Yuichi says firmly, “And if you think I’m leaving anytime in the near future you’d be sorely mistaken.” 
“Well the angle you’re standing at doesn’t look comfortable,” Leo offers quietly, “Care to join me?” 
Yuichi frowns at the number of wires that Leo was connected to before carefully arranging himself on the bed beside Leo. He can feel the tension fade as he carefully tangles their legs and props his head against the side of Leo’s. The slider melts into his side, sighing in comfort and it brings Usagi back to many of their sleepovers. If there wasn’t the scent of antiseptic and the sounds of heart rate monitors, he’d be able to pretend that it was just another night after coming back from a mission. The sleepless nights spent worrying over Leo’s condition catch up to him, and he allows himself to rest with Leo tucked into his arms. 
-------
Kendra had seen a lot in her time. Being a teenage hacker often meant seeing things that she really wasn’t supposed to. Sometimes it was what the neighbors Tuesday afternoon drunken parties entailed, sometimes it was the ledgers of foreign governments and lists of experiments that were far from ethical. 
Helping two of the Hamato’s through their amputations? That was new. She can’t help but thank her instinct to pursue medicine (sure it was veterinary medicine but it had helped them out here hadn’t it?) as she clears away the materials she’d used for stitches.
She wasn’t sure what to think when she was first contacted about Donatello being missing. It seemed that the Hamato’s had just been going through each of Donnie’s contacts to see if they’d heard anything. She wasn’t sure if she was surprised that she was one of the first on his list since she was contacted mere hours after his disappearance, but she was not ashamed to admit that she threw herself back into her computer hacking days to provide her services. 
It was odd, returning to watching cameras and scanning security footage for any signs of the freakishly large turtle instead of attending to her much more morally correct job of a veterinarian. When Donnie’s systems finally pinged his location and the brothers had ran in yelling about his mystic energy, she remained as the “woman in the chair” despite every instinct to strap on one of Donnie’s battleshells and join the fight herself. 
She watched through security cameras while she remotely detonated the lab’s systems - reveling in the panic on the scientists faces as they realized that rooms were locked and sirens were growing louder thanks to her call to every station in the area regarding illegal experimentation and unauthorized lab usage. They wouldn’t be able to access the building until she opened the doors, but it was good to rile them up. The building would be going down regardless thanks to April and Casey’s actions to rig the foundations with Purple Dragon grade explosives. She had already evacuated nearby blocks, the only danger was to those that had chosen to imprison and experiment on Donnie and whatever other poor mutants Bishop had gotten his slimy hands on. Unfortunately the only area she wasn’t able to see, much to her and everyone else’s frustration, was the lab that Donnie was being kept in. 
This means that the only thing she sees when the battle ends is Leo and Donnie being carried out by Raph before she loses access to her systems as the cameras explode into a golden light. Whatever Raph had done to that lab had disabled what was hindering their powers then if Mikey was able to begin the detonation process. She hurries to the med bay, keeping her panic tucked away as the blood that had been trailing the trio flickers through her mind. There’s another flash of golden light just as she’s set up the beds and the brothers appear through Mikey’s portal. 
She still doesn’t allow herself to panic as she helps with the surgery, an odd mix of modern medicine and magic keeping the two brothers alive and stable until she steps back and deems it all they can do for the moment. Through numb lips she explains the aftercare and the Hamato’s set up schedules and watches. She should be surprised that she’s included in these, but she also knows that the only way she’s leaving Donnie’s side is if she’s dragged out. Well, after she scrubs their blood from her clothes anyway. She borrows some of Donnie’s while hers are being treated, drawing comfort in the too large hoodie as she sets up post beside Donnie’s bed. 
Leo wakes up first, unsurprising since he hadn’t been locked away for a week in a psychopath's care. Their healing factor has clearly kicked in as within a day Leo is taken off the heavy painkillers and requests to move back to his room. Kendra tries not to be impatient as she routinely checks on the stitches, monitoring for infection between her shifts with Donnie. The brothers regularly switched off with Kendra - barring Leo since he was bed bound - but Kendra insisted on spending as much time as possible with Donnie. He should be waking up soon after all and if she didn’t get to tell that stupid idiot her true feelings she’s going to lose it. 
It’s late on day two when she hears movement, glancing over to see Donnie’s eyes open wide and staring at her uncomprehending. She freezes, staring back and not even daring to blink as she waits for understanding to wash over Donatello’s expression. 
It doesn’t. 
Instead he snarls, lips drawing back to expose sharp teeth and she scrambles to press the call button (more of a localized panic button for the med bay) before Donatello tries to sit up, becoming off balance and falling to his side as he tries to balance with an arm he doesn’t have. “You’ll hurt yourself,” Kendra barks, hands going to help him sit up when he snaps at her arms, then hissing a warning when she doesn’t immediately draw back. She is so not qualified to deal with a hostile mutant turtle who had probably been through an excess of uncertified medical procedures over the past week if his injuries were anything to go by. Thankfully she doesn’t have to worry about her hand being bitten off as Raph and Mikey come running in. 
She backs off, only so that Donnie doesn’t feel overwhelmed and becomes more violent, but remains in eyesight in case he tries to rip out the IV’s. Mikey does disconnect the heart monitor since its high-pitched scream was doing none of them any favors and she could see how quickly Donnie relaxed at the quiet. It still clearly takes a moment for him to recognize where he was and who was around him with his brothers reassurances the only reason he’s willing to settle back onto the bed with a low whine. Kendra steps in, quickly checking fluids and changing out the painkillers since they were low. She can see the concern on both Mikey and Raph’s expressions, but completes everything clinically before returning to her spot at his bedside. 
“You can leave now, I can handle it,” She says only a bit harshly. It was true, she’s sure she can handle whatever reaction Donnie may have now that he’s aware of where he is. She knew the dangers of an unfamiliar face attempting to administer care, but now Donnie could see her and understood why he was hooked up to the various equipment. She had no concerns about her safety. 
“If you’re sure…” Raph says hesitantly, “You know how to get a hold of us.” 
“Yep, now go back to bed, you two are dead on your feet,” Kendra says, trying to be cold but it’s difficult when all she can do is trace the bandages wrapping Donatello’s shell. She hears the brothers leave and heaves a sigh of relief. From the glaze over Donnie’s eyes, she can tell the painkillers have a hold on him but she can't help but slowly reach out to grasp his left hand. 
“I know you’re probably loopy because those are high grade as shit,” She starts quietly, “But if I don’t get this off my chest before you fall asleep again I think I’ll actually lose my mind.” 
Donnie blinks slowly at her. 
“You’re an idiot,” She whispers harshly, “You scared the hell out of us you know? You scared the hell out of me.” She squeezes his hand, feeling him squeeze back before she can force herself to continue. “You know I didn’t even realize it until your brothers called me, but I care about you. I care about you, the guy who humiliated me every chance he could get, the dumb turtle who put a stop to a whole ass alien invasion, and the absolute dickhead who got kidnapped and hurt by an actually crazy scientist and leaving me behind.” 
She doesn’t know when she started crying. 
“You’re really making me say it, Donatello Hamato, but I like you, and if anything - I mean anything - happens to you again? I’m going to kill whoever did it with my bare hands.” 
She’s not sure if Donnie understands, but she can see the corner of his lips quirk slightly before his eyes slip shut and he stills. His breaths become deep with sleep but his hand still remains firmly grasped in Kendra’s. She doesn’t let go until Mikey comes in to take over. 
-------
A week goes by in silence. Not from all of the Hamato’s, Kendra doesn’t think it’d be possible for them to be quiet for more than ten seconds. No. Donatello has not said a single word, or even made a noise of discomfort since he’d first woken up. He rarely even signs, much to the disappointment and worry of his brothers. He doesn’t ask for food or water, although they’re brought to him anyway, and he remains in his room nestled under his blankets and only moves when absolutely necessary. Despondent is the word that immediately springs to Kendra’s mind and she hates it. 
They retain their rotating shifts, although Kendra takes as many of them as she can. The last thing Donnie needs is an interrogation from his family, since it’s clear that he’s still gathering his thoughts over what had happened to him and shows discomfort any time his brothers try to remain alone with him. She justifies her veterinary knowledge, but she can also see Mikey whispering to Raph whenever the older brother looks like he’s going to protest. Thank whatever pizza thing they worship for the younger brother’s empathy. Kendra sets up a cot that Donnie had in his lab and sleeps across the room when she can. 
This is how she knows Donnie’s having a nightmare almost exactly a week after he’d moved back into his room. 
He didn’t sleep very often, fiddling at all hours with some form of tech since he had to avoid screens with his head injury or pretending to sleep as he laid on top of the mattress. Kendra’s relief at his breaths finally evening out is short lived as a few hours after he slipped under she hears him begin to thrash, then cries out in pain as he aggravates the wounds on his shell. She’s out of the cot and onto his bed in seconds, cupping her hands gently onto his face and tapping gently at his cheeks. His eyes snap open and for a moment she wonders if she’s going to lose a finger or two before clarity comes to his vision. For the first time in a week she feels like he recognizes her. 
She finds herself wrapped in an embrace, a surprising development but not one she’s going to take lightly as she feels Donnie trembling against her. She squeezes, not enough to hurt but enough to ground as Donnie’s forehead falls heavy to her shoulder. The two of them sit there, Kendra gently rubbing Donnie’s shell until she feels his breath hitch. 
“He…made a control panel…like the technodrome…” His voice is raspy from disuse and Kendra almost wants to stop him so he could get a drink or something, but she also understands that this is important both for Donatello to say and for her to hear. Regardless of how sick the thought of hearing what caused these wounds makes her feel. 
“Or…tried to…’t was…nothing like her…” 
Kendra recalls the ship that had hovered over New York. She thinks of its size and the terror it struck into its citizens. She couldn’t imagine anyone willingly recreating that, this Bishop Bastard was even worse than she thought. Mikey had told them a bit about how the ship had been controlled - access directly to the nervous system as far as they could tell. One sleepless night Donnie had even described what it had felt like to control the ship, Kendra never forgot the almost melancholic expression on his face as he recalled connecting to it. 
“There was no synergy…just pain…it tried to control…it tried to take…take… take ….” The anguish in Donnie’s voice has Kendra holding him all the tighter, burying her face in his shoulder in the only way she could try to comfort. The words are spilling out of him now, faster and every word sounds worse as he explains in fractured segments what Bishop had done. 
“...I felt violated …it tried to control me even though it was supposed to be controlled. Bishop was furious…he didn’t understand why it wasn’t working…” Donnie let out a broken laugh, “took it out on me…but it was nothing compared to it…nausea got worse…every time I was hooked up to it…”
She can feel him shudder at the memory and she squeezes him the best she can, hoping that the weight of her against him was helping to keep him grounded as he continued talking. 
“He kept upgrading it…and connecting me to it…” He pauses, exhaling hard and coughing a bit as he does so, “It noticed too late when I took control...That’s how I got the signal out. You already know the rest…”
Kendra can feel that he’s done, the way he slumps against her and the ragged breathing as he attempts to reign in his thoughts. She’s never been great at comforting people in the conventional sense, but she has a feeling she can share what she was feeling about the whole situation. 
“What an absolute shithead.” 
She feels him jolt in surprise before he snorts, finally finally returning her hold and tugging her closer to him as he laughs. It’s the best sound  she’s ever heard. 
“Yeah, he really was an absolute dick! A real piece of work, shit from the sewers!” Donnie manages to choke out between chuckles and Kendra can’t help but lean into his laughter. 
“So just to make sure I wasn’t just high on painkillers…you did say you liked me right?” Donnie murmurs after they’d both calmed down enough to lay comfortably on the bed. Donnie doesn’t let Kendra go, drawing comfort in her warmth as she messes absently with his hand. She pressed her palm against his own, twining and untwining their fingers until he spoke - then she abruptly dropped his hand. 
Kendra groans, rolling over to hide her face against the mattress despite their tangled legs keeping her mostly facing Donnie, “Yes, yes unfortunately I did.” 
“What was that? Could you repeat it?” Donnie asks cheekily, laughing again when Kendra lifts her face from the mattress to scowl at him. 
“Yes! I did! Got a problem with it ?” 
Donnie’s face is priceless, shifting from teasing to blushing in a way that makes Kendra smirk victoriously as she gently rubs his arm. 
“I…suppose…I like you too,” Donnie manages to stutter out. 
“You tell anyone I got mushy like that and I’ll strangle you,” Kendra mutters. 
Donnie barks out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it Kendra.” 
Kendra knows deep down that this isn’t over. Bishop was still out there, a destroyed lab surely wouldn’t keep him down for long. For the moment however, she’s going to enjoy Donnie’s warm embrace and do what she can to help him feel safe even if that means tearing down the bastard herself.
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