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#there's more important things than beating around the bush
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I love learning ASL it’s so good. Makes me happy to learn it. I’m so glad my university has classes for it with professors actually steeped in Deaf culture.
#blue chatter#am I good at ASL? hahahahahahaha. no.#ASL and English grammar are incredibly different and even when I remember my vocab I am easily clockable as hearing#but I do have some language capacity now. enough to communicate the basics.#and I just. genuinely really enjoy it. it’s fun to learn and engaging in a way most of my classes just aren’t.#and I can. yanno. communicate respectfully w Deaf ppl. and learn about their culture#which is incredibly important given that I want to go into a field where there is a higher incidence than typical of Deaf people#autistic? you’re more likely to be Deaf!#not to mention the fact that sign language can sometimes be a useful alternative to speech for nonspeaking/nonverbal people#depending on the person obvi; some nonspeaking/nonverbal autistics cannot use sign language and that’s okay#but surely at some point I will encounter either a Deaf client or a nonspeaking/nonverbal client who uses ASL#and when that time comes I should have some idea of how to communicate with them#I also rly like the Deaf church by my parents’ house#their community is really welcoming and their services are really interesting#I think it’s rly cool how they take intentions directly from the congregation#they’ll raise their hands and then sign what their intention is from their pew to the ambo#which is rly neat#it is funny bc every time I go the Deaf ppl I talk to will tell each other ‘go slow she’s hearing’#which is ENTIRELY fair bc. I am hearing. and I do need them to go slower.#but it also makes me laugh bc truly everyone knows within a few minutes.#oh hey the new person? they’re hearing. yeah they’re learning ASL at college. sign slowly for her.#which again makes sense bc a big Deaf culture thing is keeping ppl informed. it’s not gossip it’s getting everyone on the same page.#Deaf ppl do NOT beat around the bush that is like the height of rudeness to them. u say what u mean goshdangit. do not waste their time.#which I appreciate the heck out of bc i don’t have to try and phrase things delicately or w/e#it was also funny bc my mom came w me while I was home for Christmas and they asked her if I was her kid#and she said yes. and the lady running the kid’s craft corner thing was like ‘great you’re doing a craft now’#and I’m sitting there. visibly over 18 years old. amongst several seven year olds. trying desperately to figure out how to say hot glue gun#I made a v pretty pinecone tree it was a lot of fun ^-^
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samkerrworshipper · 9 months
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Initiation | Barca Femení x reader
part 1
warnings: insinuations of smut, sexual references, don’t read if you aren’t open to non monogamous relationships lol
you are responsible for your own digital consumption this is not made for anybody below the age of 18!
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When it all had been proposed to you, you’d been shocked.
It was no secret amongst the soccer world that certain clubs had certain initiation customs, it was also no secret that inside a lot of clubs, especially the European ones, there was a lot of sexual fluidity across teammates. You weren’t oblivious, you’d heard the many stories from your national teammates, but when you’d signed with Barca and had two of your teammates approach you to talk about the Barca initiation you’d been shocked.
You were having coffee with Keira and Lucy, the afternoon after you’d signed and finished up all the media that had been required of you for Barca to put up on their social media and website.
You were sipping on your iced latte, whilst trying to finish off the pastry that Lucy had bought you, when they’d popped the question.
“Has anybody talked to you about Barca initiation?”
It was Keira who had piped up, her voice anxious from the other side of the table.
This was your first senior professional team that you were a proper member of, being only 22 you’d played the majority of your junior career with Manchester United, and your senior career had been a lot of bouncing between different teams. You’d never signed a contract that had you dedicated to a club for multiple seasons, so Barca was a big change for you.
“Lucy said that she had to sing a song or something.”
You hadn’t really thought about it much, you’d gone through the singing thing at your English call-up when you were 17.
“Right, but there is a little bit more to it than that.”
You looked up from your croissant, one of your eyebrows raised in questioning at your two older mentors.
“Are you going to tell me what you are talking about or continue to look at me like I’m about to explode?”
Lucy laughs, the anxiety on Keira’s face only becomes more prevalent.
“Okay, so a lot of the professional teams have different rituals that happen at the start of every season, initiation nights.”
You nod along, this isn’t new information to you, but the squint in Keira’s eyes at your obliviousness is enough to tell you that you aren’t catching on to whatever she is saying.
“Keira, can you get to the point?”
You're getting sick of Keira beating around the bush like you are a 10 year old.
“Barca has a night every year, a special night, it’s very important to some of the girls, no phones, no technology, it’s a very personal night, where some things that could be deemed unprofessional occur.”
You are still so lost, and you are certain that it’s being portrayed in your facial expression, is she talking about alcohol? Dancing? Pranks? Hazing?
“Keira, just tell me.”
Your statement is a plea, a plea for Keira to end this whole awkward encounter and just get to the point.
Lucy laughs heartily at the terrified look on Keira’s face, when she realises that Keira is stuck at what to say she takes over the conversation, both of her hands thudding down on the table.
“At the start of every season, we all get together, we have fun, no rules. This is different to your substandard initiation, this night is about connecting, on a different level with your teammates, on a sexual level.”
Your jaw slackens almost immediately, your eyes blinking aimlessly as you take in the last piece of Lucy’s statement.
“Now, that’s not to say that you have to do anything, if you want we can forget I just said that and you don’t have to be apart of that part of the night, it’s completely optional, a lot of the girls chose not to participate, but we just wanted to let you know that it is a option.”
An option.
It’s such odd wording, like it’s just an everyday decision.
“Sorry, I just need a few seconds to process.”
You take your time, taking a deep gulp of your coffee and a big bite of your croissant before you look back up at your teammates.
“Can I have a bit more of an explanation? I just want to understand this a little bit better.”
Lucy nods her head eagerly, a big smirk covering her face.
It’s such a taboo conversation to have at a fucking cafe, over breakfast, but neither of the other women seem very bothered by it.
“It’s a free for all, a survey is given out every year beforehand, things you are and aren’t open to engaging in. It’s separate to the other initiation, that happens during pre-season. This is different, It’s all very consensual, and if you choose to participate then you're limited on alcohol consumption, for safety reasons. It’s a lot of fun, a lot of pleasure and exploring. Alexia's been organising it for a few years now, so it’s a very secure process. It’s kind of seen as a final hoorah before pre-season and training starts. Normally they book out a suite at a hotel somewhere, but some years it’s been done at teammates' houses or airbnbs.”
You nod your head, it’s a very interesting concept, one that you are completely shocked by. Sure, you’ve heard about sexual innuendo amongst groups of players in clubs, but this is a completely different level. It’s uncharted territory for you, you definitely aren’t any form of prude or innocent type. You enjoy sex, you’re experienced enough to know that you are good at it. But you’ve never experienced anything near what this is.
“You’ve both been a part of it?”
Lucy nods definitively and Keira nods almost ashamedly.
“You’re okay with your partner being with other people?”
It might be an over step, but you figure this whole conversation is an over step.
“It’s not like that. I speak for both myself and Keira when I say that we both like to see each other having fun, that’s what this is. It’s a night of fun, and it’s with people that we both trust and spend every day with, there isn’t any worries about jealousy. There are a lot of the girls on the team that are in relationships, Ingrid and Mapi are together and they participate, Jenni and Alexia, Caro and Marta, there are also people in relationships outside of the team, it’s all consensual amongst both partners.”
You nod your head, it’s not like it matters to you, your not in a relationship, but it does make you feel a little bit better about the whole interaction.
“Sorry-I’m asking a lot of questions.”
Lucy just smiles and shakes her head.
“Don’t worry about it, I had plenty of questions to ask and I didn’t have a national teammate to ask about it. Ask away, it’s better to ask now then wonder later.”
You nod your head, you are still so shocked by this whole encounter.
“I-What happens at this night?”
It’s a broad question, and you almost palm yourself in the head for asking it.
“I seriously don’t need to give you the birds and bees talk do I?”
Lucy is jesting you, so you roll your eyes, pivoting to Keira with a genuine look of curiosity.
“It differs each year, depending on what people want to do. Toys, kinks, bondage, anything really. If you want to do something, someone is probably likely to want to oblige you. For example, last year, Luce put down that she liked to watch me service other people, and I got the opportunity to do that.”
Keira is stuttering over her words, it’s kind of cute, especially when you catch the glance that Lucy throws at her.
“This is the only time it happens every year.”
Keira cocks her head, looking at Lucy for some kind of permission before shaking her head.
“Not quite, there are agreements between some of the girls, on trips and things often happen but that’s more private, this is common knowledge amongst the team. Although, if you enjoy yourself there is a more than likely chance that more opportunities will come up, if you catch my drift.”
Keira is like your older sister, so sitting down and talking to her about sex has never been something that has ever crossed your mind remotely, but you are kind of glad that it is Kei that you are talking to. Because Keira doesn’t joke around the same as the others do, she wouldn’t make fun of you about something like this, nor would Lucy consider she’s Keira’s codependent.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong, and I'm going to be blunt about this. Every year, before the season starts, the Barca women have a massive sex free for all that’s disguised as an initiation party.”
Keira hesitantly nods, but not before she can correct you a little bit.
“It’s not disguised as an initiation party, there will be other new signings there, Ona, who you would know from United, and a few other girls. I can promise you that the newbies get the most attention, if that’s something you want, of course, there is absolutely no pressure for you to participate, this is about you doing as little or as much as you’d like.”
You take a few minutes of silence, whilst you toss up all of the words that have been spoken in the conversation between you and the couple.
It’s a lot to think about, and the thought is massively daunting.
Especially considering that you are going to be walking into a room full of women that you’ve hardly talked to. You’ve met Alexia, she dropped in to meet you when you were going through the process of your signing, but it had been a fairly rushed interaction and you’d been too busy being in awe of her to even think about anything besides the fact that in a few months time you’d be playing on the field beside her.
“If I said I wanted to?”
Lucy broke out into a fit of giggles, a big smile breaking out across her face.
“I’ll text la capitana, she’ll text you any details, you’ll probably get a visit or a phone call confirming your interest.”
You were still a little bit shocked, this whole conversation felt like it had been a dream, so much so that you’d had to reach down to your thigh and pinch it to confirm that this was in fact your life.
“That’s it?”
Lucy smirked and nodded, reaching over to pat you on the shoulder.
“You aren’t signing yourself off to the devil, Ale will be in contact, if you have any questions you’ll see Kei and I everyday leading up to it, and if you want to pull out at any stage that’s completely fine, no hard feelings, no judgement.”
You nodded your head, unable to do much more than that.
“It’s as easy as that?”
Lucy nods her head.
“Easy as that.”
It’s two days later, when you are properly acquainted with your captain.
You are sitting at your kitchen counter, finalising some university work that you are trying to get ahead of when you are rudely interrupted by the sound of a light knocking at your door.
You close your laptop, and turn down the volume of the playlist you have playing across your speakers, before you jog to the door of your apartment.
The last thing you expect to be faced with, is the face of your newest captain.
“Hola, Capitana.”
You don’t really know what else to say, you’ve had zero warning about this sudden visit, and whilst you are honoured, it’s also a little bit daunting having one of the best players the game has standing right in front of you.
“Lo siento, puedo pasar?” Sorry, may I come in?
You are nowhere near fluent in Spanish, Lucy had been giving you crash courses over the past few months once she’d found out about your signing, you had managed to get a cusp of basic conversational talk, the club had told you that once season commenced you’d be assigned a spanish teacher and a translator, so you hadn’t been super worried about it.
“Please, make yourself comfortable, would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, juice, coffee, tea?”
You list off everything that you can think of, as you open the door fully to Alexia.
“Just water should be fine.”
You are slightly shocked by the Spaniards' flawless pronunciation over her English, and also extremely relieved that you aren’t going to be forced to try and understand Spanish, because it certainly isn’t a skill you’ve even begun to master.
Alexia takes a spot sitting at your island bench, directly beside your uni work that had been the previous centre of your attention, which is now being completely occupied by your Catalan company.
“Here you go.”
You pass the glass over to Alexia, electing to stay positioned on the opposite side of the counter, instead of sitting down beside her. It feels less confrontational, more conversational and less one on one.
“Gracias, I’m sorry for dropping in without any warning, I was in the area and I figured it was best to discuss this all with you in person, I won’t be here long, I don’t want to disturb anything.”
You smiled at Alexia, shaking your head at her.
“It’s no trouble at all, I was just getting ahead of some course work, what can I do for you, Capitana?”
Alexia gives you a wry smile, reaching for her handbag which she’d set down on the floor.
“Please call me Alexia or Ale, none of the formality is necessary.”
You nod at her, Ale, it sounds nice coming off of your tongue, it makes you feel a little bit less terrified of the woman.
“Okay Ale, what can I do for you?”
Alexia smiles at you, a genuine smile that somehow warms your soul, it’s like magic, and you give yourself a mental note to ask Lucy about the effect later on.
“I’m just here to talk to you about our initiation night on Friday, Lucia tells me that you are keen to join in, si?”
You nod your head cautiously, it’s impossible to miss the little dimple in Alexia’s cheek as she licks her lips and smirks at you.
“Perfecta, I can assure you that you will have a lot of fun. Has Lucia talked to you about it, or would you like me to give you a bit of a debrief?”
Technically, Lucy has given you the debrief, but you are curious to learn more and see if Alexia has anything else to add.
“Lucy talked about it, but it was pretty brief and non-specific.”
Alexia nods, and gently pushes a sheet of paper across the table to you, one look at the words across the sheet had your eyes nearly bulging out of your eye sockets.
“On the left, you’ll see a list of girls' names, those are the girls from the team that are choosing to participate. Some just come to watch, others come to please, others come for pleasure. Everything that happens on the night is exclusive to the team, and if talked about outside of the team there are consequences. On the right you’ll see a list of common things that occur. I'll send out a survey to you later, the majority of those things will be on the list, you do not have to engage in anything that makes you uncomfortable, there is absolutely no pressure for you to do anything. Please understand that.”
You nod dutifully at Alexia, your eyes scanning the page and taking in the amount of names as well as different sexual acts and activities.
“We’ve rented out a house, it’s on private land, nice and spacious, lots of privacy. I’m sure Keira and Lucia will take you along with them, you can be as included as you wish, we take care of newbies, anything you want you’ll get, just don’t be shy to ask for it, okay?”
You nod sheepishly at Alexia. This conversation would make you uncomfortable normally, but talking about it with ‘La Reina’ like the two of you are discussing the weather is perplexing.
“Don’t stress about it, cariño, you’ll be well looked after, you are well sought after amongst the group, I’m sure that you’ll be very popular if you desire so. If not, I’m always happy to look after our newest additions.”
Alexia sends you a sardonic smile, sweet and sultry, full of teeth and a chunk of her plump pink lip caught in her teeth.
You think that Alexia can sense that you are stuck on what to say to her, a little bit star struck and still trying to process the words that have just left her mouth.
“Well, unless you have any other questions I'll see myself out, I’ll see you in a couple of days, adios.”
Alexia is up and out of your kitchen in a matter of seconds, barrelling towards the door, your body following hers and managing to speak out just as her hand connects with the brass of your door knob.
“Alexia, thank you for coming around, I really appreciate it, just one last question if you have a second?”
Alexia pivots on her heel, turning around to face you fully.
“Ask away.”
You nod your head, working up the confidence inside of you to ask the question.
“What should I expect?”
You are well aware that it’s a broad question, and you don’t know what kind of answer you are going to receive, but there is a part of your gut that’s just begging for more information, for something.
“You really want a spoiler?”
You nod your head definitively, you aren’t a person who enjoys surprises, you like to know what to expect, what’s happening. You’ve been this way since you were a child, and it’s followed you up until now.
“It’s an atmospheric experience, the feeling, the endorphins. There is nothing that matches being in a room full of people full of desire, nothing like being in a room full of women reaching levels of pleasure they never even imagined. I don’t know what else to say, it’s an out of body experience, there is a reason why it is so sacred amongst our team, as a newbie it’s daunting, I know it’s hard to believe but I was once in your position as well, and the best chunk of advice I can give you is to just let go, let yourself live in the moment whilst you are there, nobody is going to judge you, take a leap of faith, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days, text me if you have any more questions or if you think I’ve left anything out, even if you just want to chat I’m here, take a read from the list I gave you, it should provide some insight.”
Alexia’s words resonate with you for days to come, the way she talked about the whole situation like it was gospel, her words making it seem like a holy sacrament. You study the sheet she’s given you as if it is the holy bible and you are trying to learn your scriptures.
14 women.
15 including yourself.
That’s a lot of people, and yet as you read over the names it seems nowhere near as magnitudinal as it sounds.
The list of kinks and situations is a source of a lot of your late night self explorations.
You’ve experimented with a lot of things over the years, but some of the things on the list have you weak at the knees just reading them. When your receive the email from Alexia it takes you a whole day to work up the courage to open up the attachments. The first one, as previously discussed is a survey. It has all of the things from the sheet Alexia gave you, plus a surplus of other things, and then some more questions to be personally filled in. It’s near impossible to work through it, it takes far longer than you think it should, but by the end of it you are left with a warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach, anticipation, shock at what you are looking at.
There are four boxes for each topic, yes, no, maybe. And below every maybe box there is a little text box which reads ‘please specify’.
It’s well organised, and you have a feeling that Alexia will have put a lot of time into it, from the very short amount of time that you’ve grown to know her you’re under the impression that she takes her role of captain very seriously.
Fingering? yes. Vaginal pentration? yes. Spanking? yes. Bondage? maybe - no ropes or handcuffs. Oral receiving? yes. Oral giving? yes. Use of toys? yes. Double penetration? yes. Anal? maybe - only experimented but open to trying. Sensory deprivation? maybe - no gags. Humiliation? no. Sex with multiple people? yes. Orgasm denial/control? yes. Sex with a couple? yes. Praise? yes. Degradation? yes. Choking/breath play? no. Dominant? no. Switch? maybe - most likely not. Submissive? yes.
The list goes on, it covers every single thing you’ve ever done and then more, it makes you quiver in the depths of your core, just with anticipation.
Once you’ve finished the yes no part of the survey and answered the questions down the bottom you move onto the other attachment, which from a quick skim over outlines the rules, expectations and details of the night.
The main things that cathc your eyes are the sentences relating to safe words and consent. It seems important so you pay extra attention to it. It talks about the traffic light system, that once you consent to the night it is your responsibility to use your words, there will be regular check ins but unless you use your safe word there is no expectation for anything to stop.
Some other topics that catch your eyes are details about time, place, clothes, etcetera.
The majority of it is just information that Lucy and Keira had already outlined to you, the newbie run down.
Three days later, and you are slowly getting ready for your night to come.
Over the past 72 hours there has been one thing on your mind, tonight. You aren’t spared a minute from your thoughts and when Keira and Lucy walk through your front door, running an hour late you are buzzing. You are well aware of the fact that you look like a 8 year old who has just skulled a bottle of cola, every single extremity connected to your body shaking wildly.
You were lost on what to wear, and it had taken a long chat with Keira yesterday to convince you that apparently it was nowhere near as big of a deal as you were making it in your head.
You settled for a matching sweat combo, just because you figured it would be coming off anyway. It was paired with one of your nicest pairs of lingerie, a red set which was probably leaning towards a size too small. The set accentuated every single part of your body though, it hugged your curves, made your ass pop and your tits look delectable.
It felt almost criminal to cover it up with a tank top and nike tracksuit and sweater, but you also found comfort in the extra layer of clothing, it feels like a layer of armour.
You’ve been sitting in your apartment, contemplating everything for an hour and a half when Lucy and Kei finally show up.
They walk in without any warning, and it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes.
You aren’t sure when was the last time you’ve seen either of them glowing and looking so smiley, but it’s definitely a moment where you take a mental picture for the future.
They’re both dressed similarly to you, and for once you don’t find yourself guilty for being curious about what hides beneath the couple's clothing.
“Hola.”
Even your words are practically dripping with anxiety, your voice shaky and stuttery.
“Hola amor, you ready to go?”
Lucy looks especially delighted.
Her hair is down, something that you don’t see very often. She’s got a light layer of makeup on that compliments her facial figures without making it look like she’s over done it.
Keira looks similar, her hair is down and curled every so slightly, if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have realised but the effort is noted inside your brain. She’s also got a very light layer of makeup on, both women look stunning, perfect together, the picture of love.
It makes you hopeful, hopeful that one day you’ll find somebody that looks at you the way Lucy does at Keira, and vice versa.
“Mhm.”
You don’t get up from the couch, all of a sudden you feel unable to move.
Keira recognises it fairly quickly, taking a seat down next to you, her hand falling on top of your knee and squeezing lightly.
“Everything alright, little one?”
Keira’s voice is so soft, it makes you feel safe, like you’re at home.
“Just nervous.”
As far as nerves go, you're fairly certain the euros final doesn’t even match this, it’s weird.
“You know that if you want to back out that’s completely fine, nobody is going to make fun of you.”
You shook your head, backing out was the last thing you wanted to do, but it didn’t make everything else less daunting.
“M’ fine, just need a sec.”
Keira’s hand slowly moves up from your knee, to your thigh, her grip becoming a little bit lighter.
“I can think of a way to calm some of those nerves.”
Keira’s voice is unusually confident, and it surprises you greatly when she reaches down to your chin and pulls it upwards so you’re looking at her.
It’s just then that you realise exactly how close the two of your faces are, so close that you can feel Keira’s breath on your face. It’s warm and it tickles against your skin in a way that you’ve never felt before. She’s smiling at you, but there is a deeper connection through her eyes, the way she's looking at you makes you feel like you are the only person in the world.
“Luce?”
You’re well aware of what this whole night ensues, but it doesn’t settle the slight niggle in your gut that you definitely do not want to be reading this situation wrong.
“Yes, honey?”
Keira’s eyes don’t waiver from your own, even as yours look across the room to look at Lucy, who is giving you a similar look to Keira, somewhat predatory in the best way possible. Her voice is practically dripping with confidence, doused in assertiveness.
You look between the both of them, realising that there is definitely no push back from either of them.
“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong.”
Keira silences you by pressing her lips to your own, you freeze up for a few seconds, your mouth completely unmoving as you realise this really is happening, that for the last week you haven’t been walking around in some kind of weird dream that’s been created because of some weird delusion in your head.
After a few seconds, you relax into the kiss, moving your own lips against Keira’s and savouring the flavour of strawberry gum and coffee that is fresh on her lips. It tastes how Keira feels, warm and content and it calms down any of the previous nerves that were occupying your stomach, the shaking across your whole body as Keira’s hand on your jaw gently caresses the skin with the pads of her fingertips.
After a few more seconds of Keira sucking and biting at your lips she retracts herself, a big smile on her face as she continues to stare at you.
“Luce you need to try, she tastes divine.”
The compliment makes you blush more than you were already, the redness spreading down to your neck as you feel the couple's eyes on you.
“All in due time Kei, we don’t want to overwhelm her, now I think it’s about time we get a move on, hm?”
You nod subconsciously, your brain still floating on a different planet as you compartmentalise exactly what just happened. All you can think about is how Keira’s lips felt, addictively soft and supple, it’s a feeling that you are certain you won’t forget.
“God you’ve gone and broken her Kei, already?”
The feeling of Keira squeezing your knee once again manages to awaken you from your trance, your eyes darting between the couple cautiously.
“You ready to go, honey?”
Keira’s voice is as soft as her lips, you're so effortlessly enraptured by her that it makes you more than a little bit excited for whatever is to come.
You’ve never seen Keira look this carefree, this cheeky and it makes you feel so much more at peace then you had previously.
You allow Keira to guide you out of your own apartment, your brain still working at a snail's pace so before you even realise you are sitting in the backseat of Lucy’s very nice mercedes. Instead of sitting in the front beside Lucy, Keira has elected to sit in the backseat with you, her body pressed up against your own and her hand resting comfortably on the inside of your knee.
Your knee is bouncing up and down under Keira’s hand, and before you can say anything, her hand is moving up to your chin and rotating it to meet her lips.
This time the kiss is more motivated, more purposeful but sweet all the same.
You give Keira control, your lips practically melting into hers as her hand tangles into the back of your head, tugging at the tresses of hair at the nape of your neck.
It feels so good, so good that you part your lips to moan, instead your sounds are silenced though by Keira’s tongue.
Keira kisses with passion and fervour, it’s quite shocking based off of her personality and all the times you’ve seen her around Lucy, but it makes you giddy on the inside all the same.
“Keira, behave.”
The words come when Keira’s spare hand comes up to your covered breast, you don’t even really notice until you see Lucy looking directly at Keira in the rearview mirror and the look on her face is a mixture of displeasure and humour.
“You're just mad that I got her first.”
Keira’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s fairly clear that Lucy isn’t pleased about it.
“You keep talking like that to me and you won’t like how the night goes for you.”
Keira’s hand quickly moves down from your breast but she doesn’t remove it completely, instead moving it down to your lap again, but her kisses don’t stop, she litters little kisses all over your jaw and neck, all whilst you maintain the eye contact with Lucy in the rearview.
She’s smirking, her eyes don’t leave yours unless they go back to the road, and even when they don’t you keep your eyes on her.
Keira is only egged on by the little sounds and moans that leave your mouth as she finds different spots across your neck and face that make you melt even further into her.
“How does she feel honey? Is she getting you warmed up?”
Lucy’s words are directed towards you, it takes a few seconds for your brain to wrap it’s way around them but once you do you reply quickly.
“Feels good, m’ sorry.”
Lucy’s eyebrows furrow, and when the next red light comes she turns around completely to look at you.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
Lucy voice is more questioning than accusatory.
“Sorry for getting Kei in trouble and kissing her without your permission.”
Lucy scoffs and Keira snorts from her spot on your neck.
“Oh honey, not your fault that Kei is choosing to be a bit bratty, these nights always get her quite over zealous, as far as kissing her you’ve got my full permission, you don’t need to ask.”
You nod cautiously, moaning as Keira begins to suck a mark right into the pulse point on your neck.
“Kei, behave yourself, you know what Ale said about not getting over excited.”
It’s the mention of Alexia’s name that has your ears perking up.
It seems to get Keira to back off a bit, her lips at least, her hand continues to rub gently at the inside of your knee and thigh and you slowly drive down a dark and windy road.
“Y’know you're all Kei’s been talking about all week, she’s been very excited for tonight.”
You look over at the older English woman, feeling a little bit confident when you notice that Keira is blushing wildly and avoiding your eye contact completely.
“Lucee.”
Keira is clearly embarrassed, which must mean that what Lucy is saying has come truth, which means that Keira has been thinking about you.
“All she’s been talking about, I can say the same about quite a lot of the girls, you are a popular topic.”
It makes you feel all giddy in your stomach with the acknowledgment from Lucy, she’s the last person that would lie to you, so it makes you feel especially good.
Keira groans and hides her head against the window.
“Really?”
Lucy scoffs once again at the shock in your voice.
“Trust me honey, pretty sure there will be girls queuing up for you, us oldies don’t get that kind of attention.”
Keira rolls her eyes, which is enough of an answer for you to realise that Lucy is trying to be humble.
It’s just as you’re about to say something that the car pulls into a driveway, which is already full of cars.
Alexia is right, it’s the only light that you’ve seen for miles, there is nobody for miles, which is a big comfort.
Lucy opens your door for you, helping you out and immediately beginning to assess your neck.
Once she’s certain that there are no marks she moves her vision up to your face, reaching down for a quick kiss.
It’s different to Keira, rougher, her lips more coarse.
It still feels equally as good.
Lucy releases fairly quickly, Keira’s already walking up the stairs to the house, an extra pep in her step as she makes it to the door.
Lucy and you are quick to follow her.
The door has a keypad on it, Keira quickly punches in a four digit code before the door pops open. The entry hallway is completely empty and silent, all three of you toe off your shoes and leave them and your socks by the door.
Lucy leads towards the door at the end of the entry way, you loiter behind, completely terrified of whatever is going to be behind it.
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lionizingheathen · 1 month
Note
umm face riding with harry?? pleaseee
Yeah, no problem
Harry Potter x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut, oral sex reader receiving, face riding
"You should ride my face." You choked on your own breath for a moment before looking over at your boyfriend, who was tossing around an old ball like he hadn't just said something so forward... He'd gotten more forward after the war, after he was done with all the uncertainty and chaos but Merlin, you'd never be used to it.
"Pardon me?" You asked, your voice breaking over the words as he grinned over at you, seeming equal parts eager and concerned, like he was worried he'd said something wrong, which was not at all the case.
"You... Sorry, is that not something you're interested in?" He asked, tossing the ball aside as he turned towards you, resting his hand on your thigh. You cleared your throat, squeezing your thighs together as you felt your cunt throb at his touch.... Of course you wanted to ride his face, who wouldn't?
"No, i mean... Of course it is I just didn't expect you to be so candid... most people don't just say 'you should ride my face', they beat around the bush a little." You said, feeling a little shaky as you looked at him. All he did was sit up and nod a little, clearing his throat as he pulled his hand away from you.
You missed his touch the second it was gone.
"Normally I would too but I... I've been thinking about it a lot." "About you a lot, and I just... Please ride my face?"
"What if I crush you?" You asked, a question that you knew was stupid the second you looked at his face and saw his confused expression - you hadn't meant to confuse him, all you were saying was what if you fucking killed him? You'd be killing the savior of the wizarding world, that sounded like a terrible thing!
"Huh?" He asked, and you sighed, throwing your hands up before you covered your face with them, embarrassed that you were even thinking about that.
You wanted to disappear.
"I don't want to smother you! That would be mortifying." You said, your tone coming out far more defensive than you had intended. Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you, clearly not even slightly worried about that.
"I'm a big boy, Y/N. I can handle myself." He laid on his back, gesturing you over with a wide smile. "Now c'mere... Ride my face." You snorted, rolling your eyes even as you sat up.
Eager boy.
"I never said yes." He paused then, looking at you expectantly.
"Well...?" He asked, trailing off as you sighed, nodding before you slipped your panties off, seeing the hungry expression on his face.
Down, boy.
"If we do this, and you can't breathe-." He cut you off, waving you off like your concerns for his health were unimportant, but in your opinion they were very important... He needed to listen.
"Obviously I will tell you, now come here, I can't wait much longer." He insisted, and you chuckled, shaking your head even as you swung your thigh over his head, positioning your cunt over his face, pausing before you settled down.
"You're so needy." You said, and he nodded, looking up without any shame... God, he wasn't paying attention to a single word out of your mouth, was he?
"Only because you're fit as hell." He mumbled, bringing his hands up so that he could use his thumbs to spread you open. God, don't stare... "That's like... Part of it." You snorted, shaking your head.
Cute.
"Part of it? Very eloquent, Potter." You said, and he rolled his eyes, finally meeting yours before he spoke.
"Shut up."
"Funny, pretty sure you'll be the one doing-." He pulled you down suddenly, making you let out a gasp as he lapped his tongue over your cunt. You gripped onto the headboard and sighed. "That... Bloody hell..." You mumbled, feeling his fingers dig into your thighs as he buried his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit as you moved your cunt against him.
Oh god...
"Mmm..." Your head was already fucking spinning and he'd hardly even started.
"Oh, that feels... So good." Glasses. "Your glasses, hold on... Hold on, Harry." You breathed, and he groaned when he pulled away, looking at you like you'd committed a crime against him.
Relax, pretty boy.
"I don't care-." You cut him off and carefully removed them from his face, shaking your head. It was cute that he was so eager, but the last thing you needed was any looks from anyone if he showed up to work tomorrow with broken glasses.
"I do. I don't want to explain why there's tape on them tomorrow." You said, and he snorted, shaking his head like it was a non-issue was he wrapped his arms around your thighs.
"I know how to fix my glasses, Y/N." Obviously, but you didn't want to give him a reason why he had to do that... You weren't really in the market of making someone blind.
"Either way." You set them on the nightstand before settling over him again. "There. Now you can go." You said, and he rolled his eyes, but nodded at you.
"Thank you." Perfect.
"So polite..." He lapped his tongue over you frantically, like he was trying to map your cunt and remember each and every fold, every inch from taste alone... God, was there anything he wasn't good at? "Just like that, yes, just like that." You whined, feeling his tongue trace over your clit.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
"Mmm... Suck my clit, good boy..." You mumbled, grinding down on his face with a sigh, feeling shivers through your whole body... It was no wonder he was good at this, he was already great at giving head and that was something you knew.
"Look so perfect under me... I..." You gasped, feeling a hand leave your thigh, but you didn't think much of it, you were too lost in the feeling of his tongue against you, how he sucked on your clit and moaned like he was in heaven.
Fuck...
"Harry... Please..." You weren't even sure what you were asking for, all you knew was that your orgasm was coming fast, and Harry was too lost in his own world to notice... Or he didn't care and intended to work you right past it, which wouldn't surprise you.
"Close... Getting close." You whined, and Harry nodded under you, letting out a whimper of his own, but you weren't sure why... Hell, you couldn't bring yourself to care, all you knew was that you were gonna cum, and Harry wanted you to.
Really, that was all it took to send you over the edge as you shivered against his face, reaching down to tug his hair as you let out long moans of his name... Fuck, you were seeing stars, and he was not stopping.
"Shitshitshit..." You slumped against the wall, shivering as his tongue continued to move before you slipped off of him and gently pried his face from between your legs, wiping his mouth with your thumb. "Jesus Christ, Potter." You mumbled, watching as he quickly sat up, walking away from you.
Huh?
"What?" He asked, sounding worried, and you were quick to shake your head. All you meant by that was that he made you feel so fucking good.
He reappeared and you grinned, shaking your head as you sat up to meet him with a kiss.
"Nothing... You are marvelous, sweet boy." You said, ruffling your fingers through his hair with a sigh as he spread your legs, carefully cleaning between them with a soft smile, leaving a kiss just above your cunt.
"Did that feel good?" He asked, and you nodded. Obviously that felt good, you would've told him if it hadn't felt good... But it was still nice that he asked.
He was the only guy you'd been with you ever bothered to.
"That felt so good..." You breathed, looking at him with a wide smile as he settled down beside you again. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Mhm... Plenty." He mumbled, and you furrowed your brows before it dawned on you. He'd cum while going down on you.
Fuck, that was hot.
"Oh." You breathed, feeling your cunt throb as you thought about just how turned on he must've been. He must've taken that for disgust, because he cleared his throat and looked away from you, taking a deep breath.
"Sorry if that's off-putting you're just... really hot." He mumbled, and you shook your head, wetting your lips as you looked back at his face, placing your hand against his cheek.
There was nothing wrong with him being excited while you were doing that, or with him handling himself... Your only regret was that it hadn't been your hands.
Next time it would be.
"That's so sexy, honestly." He let out a breath of relief as you dew him in for a long, lingering kiss, resting your foreheads against each other when you pulled away. "Though next time... Let me handle it, okay?" You asked, and he nodded eagerly, smiling widely as he pulled back from you.
Cutie.
"Absolutely." You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again before speaking.
He just... Demanded it. Something in the way that Harry James Potter existed demanded affection.
"Amazing." You tucked against his chest, listening to the soft hum of his voice and the sound of his heartbeat as you let yourself relax, the serene moment filling your every thought.
Perfection.
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theemporium · 2 months
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number 15 ���� with lando and charles! maybe one of them fucked up and the other one is on reader’s side
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
15. "You heard that?"
.
Charles fucked up.
There was no way to beat around the bush or sugarcoat it. He fucked up and he knew he fucked up. And he didn’t have a good excuse, not one that he would really accept if he were in your position. Apologies only went so far when he missed a dinner that literally planned to celebrate one of your biggest achievements in your career. 
He knew that. 
Fuck, he knew that and he knew that you were always there for him and he was upset with himself for missing it. 
He just didn’t really expect Lando to also be so adamantly against him in the situation. He assumed the Brit would take a more neutral stance, that he would be upset with Charles but also help play mediator. 
Instead, Lando stood by your side with his arms crossed over his chest, and he looked just as pissed as you did. 
“Mon amour,” he reached out for you, a pained expression written across his face that only worsened when you pulled just out of his reach. “I’m so sorry. Words cannot even describe how sorry I am. I’ll make it up to you, I swear—”
“It’s fine,” you whispered, but he had never heard your voice sound so empty, so done. “People miss things all the time.” 
“No, but this was important,” Charles argued, his stomach twisting at the strained smile you gave him. 
“It’s fine,” you said in a blank voice. “I’m sure there will be more.” 
He tried to reach out again, to let his fingers skim across your arm as you walked around him to disappear further into your apartment. His heart clenched and shattered a little at the small sniffles coming from you, the tears you were so desperately trying to hold back.
But even if you were trying to hide how upset you were, Lando was the opposite.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Lando hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes dark and angry. 
“It was an honest mistake,” Charles sighed, his brows furrowed together as his answer only seemed to anger Lando further. “I swear—” 
“Oh? You swear now, do you?” Lando let out a bitter, dry laugh as he poked Charles’ chest. “And that call from Pierre where you said the dinner was no big deal?” 
Something flashed in Charles’ eyes. “You heard that?” 
“Yeah, I fucking heard that,” Lando spat. “You’re fucking lucky she didn’t.” 
“I forgot what the dinner was for,” Charles replied honestly. “If I remembered, I would have never said that—” 
“If, if, all these fucking ifs,” Lando muttered. “I think it’s best if you sleep on the couch tonight. She’s upset. She needs space.” 
Charles felt as though he had been slapped, even if he understood where Lando was coming from. 
“Hey, who knows. Maybe Pierre will have a place for you,” he deadpanned, the bitter sarcasm dripping from his voice as he patted Charles’ back a little harder than intended before following you into the apartment.
.
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bloodandoranges · 11 months
Text
Things the main BG3 characters love (Halsin included)
I came from the era of tumblr and fanfic where EVERYONE was writing imagines so this is sort of in the same breath…
Karlach / Shadowheart / Lae’zel / Wyll / Astarion / Gale / Halsin / 18+ though there’s not a ton of mention of spice
Karlach
She loves to touch you, any way she can. Holding your hand, playing with your hair, carrying you around… as long as she can feel you, she is content.
In camp, you sit in her lap as you eat and wind down from adventures, and strong, gentle hands run over your body… not in a lustful way — not usually — just adoring you.
Thought sometimes, she’ll slip her hand under your bed shirt, clawed fingers gently tracing over your side until you gasp and excuse yourself for bed…which Karlach eagerly follows.
Laezel
Lae’zel has never been fond of public displays of her affections; but alone? She loves to kiss you, to feel your hot breath against her face before your lips meet, fingers tangling through hair…
You feel lucky and privileged to see this tender side of her. The soft pecks in the mornings are just as special, as the two awaken from sleepy hazes, lazily smiles on your faces. She presses tender kisses over your neck and shoulders…occasionally, trailing down your chest, over your thighs… she loves your fingers tugging her hair, the way her name falls from your lips.
Shadowheart
(I apologize as she’s my baby girl but also the only one I haven’t seen a ton of romance stuff for but I tried with what I know!)
Whenever you hand Shadowheart a flower? Her heart skips a beat, cheeks instantly flush…simple gestures like that; a kiss given, a hand squeezed, all make her once dark heart flutter. She loves to be doted on, to know she’s utterly adored by her lover. Of course…she loves to dote on you too.
Quality time is important to her, she takes you on dates or private walks all the time…and sometimes? She takes you in the bushes.
Wyll
There is nothing he loves more than singing to you; more specifically? Writing songs for you…of course, he writes you sweet letters all the time, doting and adoring…but his songs? They’re always full of passion, something you can both dance to. He twirls you around the campsite, humming as he beams at you…eyes full of utter devotion.
He loves to pull you apart with his tongue, with his sweet words, and sometimes settled with your legs over his shoulders…
Astarion
He loves to praise you, to absolutely worship the ground beneath your feet. No god could ever compare to his love… Not that he’d really ever tell you that, of course. But it’s clear in his affectionate touches, the way he dotes over you. You are his world.
Of course, that extends to the bedroom. To be able to bring you to bliss; to have the choice? It’s everything to him…and he definitely doesn’t mind when you return the favour.
Gale
He loves to give things to you. Grand displays of affection are a daily occurrence with him. Bouquets of flowers too big to hold, a (magic) luxurious bed after a particularly rough day, cooking extravagant meals - when the only ingredients left /aren’t/ a single mushroom and an apple.
When you move in to his tower in Waterdeep? he takes you shopping, making the tower just as much yours as it is his, buying you extravagant outfits and trinkets and anything your heart desires; all while reminding you that you are worth far more than he could ever give you.
Of course, you give him plenty in return…
Halsin
You are sure no one on this earth could be more affectionate than Halsin. He loves to bask in the sunshine with you, often lazing around as a bear…enjoying just being with you. He loves showing you new things, teaching you and even learning with you… you bring light into his once shadowed head.
Though, there is nothing he loves more than a good old romp in the grass with you.
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ghcstao3 · 7 months
Text
soap figures he’d likely be the one to propose to ghost—though that’s no problem to him at all. he knows ghost has fears surrounding family and loved ones after he’d just barely saved them from getting killed at the hands of old, brainwashed comrades, so soap has no problem initiating that step of their relationship, if ghost were to accept. he’s more than happy to.
except, when the time comes… he feels underprepared. he’s done everything he could think of needing to do—buying the ring, setting a date, picturing the perfect moment. bracing himself for rejection, imagining the wedding. everything. except… he hadn’t asked anyone for permission.
god knows that even if ghost’s father was alive he’d never go to that man, not after the stories he’s been told. and he’d be inclined to ask ghost’s mother, but he doesn’t have an excuse to drive out to her home in the countryside that wouldn’t have ghost suspicious.
so his next best bet? simon’s brother. who lives in the same city, and who soap could easily stop by to speak with without ghost cluing in.
soap sits down with him—beth is on her way home from work, and joseph is at a friend’s house—and lays out the whole thing. no beating around the bush, no excuses or half-truths. his proposal is plain and simple: he wants to marry simon, but only if tommy thinks it’s a right fit. because tommy is one of the most important people in ghost’s life, and it’s imperative soap gets his opinion.
once everything is said, tommy is silent for a long moment, and it feels like torture. soap is worrying tommy isn’t going to allow it when his face breaks out into a smile and he claps john on the shoulder saying you’d better damn well make an honest man out of that miserable prick. god knows how much he loves you.
and, well. if that’s not just the kind of reassurance he needed.
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ghost-in-the-hall · 6 months
Text
Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII
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*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!
WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD
My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!
Part VI - Part VIII
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.
“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.
“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.
“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”
“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.
“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”
“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.
“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.
“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.
“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”
“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.
“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”
“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 
“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.
“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.
“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.
“I can always tell them to back off, love.”
“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”
You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.
“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.
“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.
“Goodnight love, rest well.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.
“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.
“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.
“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.
You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”
“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.
“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”
The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.
“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.
“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”
“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”
“And I know that.”
“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.
“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.
“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.
“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.
“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.
“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.
“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes
“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly
“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.
“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”
“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”
“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”
“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”
He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”
“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.
“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.
“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.
“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.
“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.
“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.
“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”
“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.
“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.
“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”
“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.
“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.
“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.
“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.
III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.
“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.
“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.
“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.
“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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aemondloverr · 4 days
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace
𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤
𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. AND for some reason links are currently not working :( Sorry abt that!! Must be some kind of bug)
❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆
“Mother? You sent for me?”
Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment
“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”
She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you
“I have something to discuss with you.”
Oh no
You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.
You approach the chair nervously and sit.
She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.
“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”
You smile at the mention of fond memories.
Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.
A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret
“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”
“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.
Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest
“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”
“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.
She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you
“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”
You stare, expectantly
“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”
What…??
“But mother…”
She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest
“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”
“But Cregan…you know what he did…”
You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .
Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.
“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”
“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”
“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”
“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated
Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks
“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”
“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“
She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender
“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”
“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling
Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.
“Yes, my love. For the realm…”
She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing
“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”
*****
Later that evening at supper
The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.
Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face
Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow
“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”
“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.
Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.
*****
Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.
At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family
She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding
"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."
Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.
"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."
A pause.
"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."
There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.
Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama
He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern
"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"
Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.
"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."
“At least let me go with her“
"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.
“Mother you can’t just-”
Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling
“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”
You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.
Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent
As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door
“Enter”
Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern
"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"
“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags
His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."
“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.
"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."
“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”
Jace nods, his expression serious once more
"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."
“What are you saying Jace.”
Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."
“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.
"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"
You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”
He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”
You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”
Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.
“Fine.”
He shuts the door with force.
You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.
*****
For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.
The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.
Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.
“I will see you in few weeks time.”
Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.
"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."
You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.
"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."
“No promises…”
Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks
"I don't want you to go."
Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.
"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."
Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears
“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads
"You'll come back, right? You promise?"
“I promise.”
Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.
"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."
Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.
"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.
Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.
“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go
“Just come back in one piece.”
“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.
You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.
The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.
A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.
❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.
PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾
@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife
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starshipsofstarlord · 8 months
Text
Modern!Nat Being Your Dealer
summary - natasha romanoff is your dealer, and you go to collect your order, however you seem to have forgotten something important… though there is another way that you can pay for your addiction (2.1k)
warnings - 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, drug dealing, sex in place of payment, swearing
natasha romanoff works other mcu works masterlist
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Everyone struggled in life, and once in a while they needed a little help. There were many ways people went about that, some people went to therapy, others enjoyed a good book, others listened to waves that had been recorded for that specific purpose. But none of those spectacles of aid made you feel any better.
And thus you had turned to substances instead of white noise, specifically one that was more common and less harmful - weed. A large majority of the population did it, and it was nothing to be ashamed about, it just made you unwind from the trauma that skulked in the darkest parts of your mind and coaxed you into a resting state of sleep.
Unbuckling your seat belt, you climbed out of your beat convertible, locking the vehicle behind yourself as you strode towards the locked hinges of your e of dealer's door. It felt suspenseful every time that you came here, knowing that it could be your last if your supplier was overturned by the forces for her illegal actions actions, and you wouldn't exactly be ignored pu so for purchasing from her.
But everything looked crisp and normal, just the way you liked it. Quickly as to not avert any attention you shot Natalia, the Russian importer a text letting her know that you had arrived to the destination where she handled business. It felt like a lifetime as you awaited for her to open the door and usher you inside, and once she unlocked the barricade of privacy you felt like you were hit by a brick.
It didn't matter how many times that you had seen the astoundingly attractive redhead, you always felt as though you were experiencing whiplash from being greeted with her appearance. It was an unruly kind of magnetism that she styled herself with, her lipstick was blurred subtly past the lines of her actual lips, her short bob was twisted with curls that she had no doubt patiently toyed with as she sat there, looming behind the frosted windows for her buyers.
And you were no more than another one of them, you had to remind yourself, even as slithered past her, both of your breasts briefly brushing as she allowed you entry before she followed your footsteps to the main room after bolting the door shut to as it had been. As usual you took a seat in the dusty and quaint living area as usual, her taking place opposite you as she disgustedly brushed specks off the fabric arm of the chair.
"I don't live here if that's what you're wondering." She smirked, making it undoubtedly clear that her tastes were too clean to permanently reside in a place like this. "So I'll take it you're picking up the usual?" It was the safe assumption on her part, there was no kindness in coaxing you to spend more on the grams of freedom that she rationed out for a price. Not to mention, with spare product there would no doubt be another soul that was prepared to take it off her hands.
"Yeah, please." A curt nod had the woman lounging her body to stretch so that she could pick up the complimentary medicine that she had self prescribed you for. The normal amount was visible through the small and clear baggy that carried the goods, and you immediately rushed to find the notes that would allow you to proceed in your pockets. But they were gone. Shit. This was the last thing that you needed after the day that you had endured with the whispers of thought that clouded your brain.
Panic settled over you, and thus with a dry mouth it was with wise decision that you chose to speak up. There was no point beating around the bush, after all this was your first slip up when it came to this, and you prayed to every ethereal being that it would be the last. "I seemed to have forgotten to put the cash in this jacket, would it be okay if i were to come by later to collect again?" It was embarrassing really, there was nothing that screamed being newer to the scene of all this mutual transaction than forgetting the payment.
"Trial and error one would say." Nat slouched back, dropping the bag mockingly in her lap so that you could see. "The problem is I'm not available for business later." So stupid, you thought to yourself, insulting yourself because she wouldn't for your blatant and misconducted dumb foolery. It certainly may have ben a mistake, but you were no doubt paying for it because you could not pay for what you had really wanted. With a gulp of apologetic waver of disregard, you stood on your two feet, eyeing the door as your escape.
You were just about to begin walking when the red headed conductor silenced all movement your body was ready to perform. "Uh, uh, uh." The noise of scolding that she proclaimed towards you made your heart beat a little faster, afraid that she was going to refuse future service to you altogether. However much you dreaded what she was going to say, you politely listened, intending to remain on her good side. "If you have time to spare, I don't mind being paid in other ways..."
"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." Maybe it was plain obliviousness to Nat's ultimatum of a suggestion, or perhaps you didn't quite believe your body's instinct to the prowess in her eyes that made your spine coil in a retrograde of quivering arousal, but you avertedly decided to play it dumb. She stood, and strode towards you like a vixen, her wide eyes scorning every inch of your vessel, humming contentedly to herself.
"Don't be so naive little y/n," her tongue peeked out from her mouth, swiping languidly across her plump bottom lip. "You'll still be a respectable woman, you'll just have to respect me too... in an intimate way." Thinking to yourself, the hunger that ran through your veins which yearned for the intoxicating compulsion of the confident redhead was strivingly eager, and the addictive stock that sold, was endless.
"W-what did you have in m-mind?" You wanted some clarification before you drowned yourself in an action that could exempt you from her clientele, even if she had been explicit, only leaving the details of prolific actions out from her spoken equation. The thumping of your heart beat within your ears, running through your bloodstream that was declining from a subsidised high, as you ogled curiously at the the woman with priceless leverage.
"We all have things we want y/n," she admitted vaguely before going into detail, "and I, in exchange want you to give me an orgasm." Her hands rubbed soothingly up your arms, her skin surprisingly cold upon your flesh. She could sense your nervousness, it was openly apparent as you shivered for both her touch and the calming rush that would absorb itself into your form.
"Okay." You spoke meekly, withholding how eager you were to persevere provocatively towards the mysterious woman. A coy smile weaved its route upon her defining features, causing your walls to flutter obscenely below where they were dressed. You'd always thought that you would be above soliciting yourself in exchange for anything, but it proved to show that you could never be certain on an agenda until you came to the crossroads of it.
Your tongue poked outside of your mouth, nervously grooming the indents and crevices at the corner of your lips, preparing yourself for what Natasha was expecting. It made you realise how little you truly knew about the woman before you, the name that she had given you to address her by may have all been a hoax, to conceal her identity from any enforcers whom bought the stronger stuff from ratting her out to the feds.
But in the predicament that you had stumbled obliviously into, you needed to be nothing more than acquainted, it wasn't love, it was just business derived from the figments of pleasure, and whilst you were allured by the pros and cons that weighed argumentatively in your mind, you couldn't help but give this instance a block from your overthinking mindset. "I'm glad to hear," she conveyed, causing a deep laughter within her chest to be released as she noticed how tense that you had become.
She liked to see you squirm, she had decided. And perhaps next time you would forget payment again, of course she wouldn't mind if your skills were up to her standards of course, and if they weren't, she would unshackle the bedroom nerves that you were enduring with her own set of amorous control. The air hung thick between the both of you as she strolled casually back towards the seat that she had already claimed prior to your arrival, sitting down and spreading her clothed legs wide.
"Come here, and make me cum." Her instructions were far too persuasive, and you couldn't refrain from doing as you were told, willingly you fell to your denim clad jeans, watching intently as Nat unbuttoned her own trousers. "I don't even need to tell you what to do." She verbally observed, pushing down the layers covering her bottom half, including her lace designed panties. Her actions served you with the view of her core, and the sight made you salivate.
A part of you felt dirty, but you procured it in an encouraging way, as this was exactly how she wanted to see you. The position that you were in made warmth flush between your legs, even more so when her drug dealing hand swept into your hair, pulling your face closer to her cunt with the harsh grip that she had. You glanced up to watch her lust drowning eyes, before you entangled your lips with her lower ones, tasting her juices on your tongue.
You ran your tongue up her slit a few times, testing the waters before you suctioned your lips around your clit, sucking on the nerve filled bud, her body being devoured by heavenly sensations. "Fuck me." Her breath cast the words out as her emerald irises became obliterated by the bleakness of her pupils, and in a way you were, and to fuck her further into the pleasure that was flooding her veins, you raised your dominant hand, tracing your fingers around her slick entrance.
With integral driven lust, you pushed one of your digits inside of her, her hand weaving tighter within your locks, and forcing your face further into her cunt. You were amidst in an overwhelming sense of reality, as you hollowed your cheeks so that you could put more pressure around her clit. Her mouth gaped open as she leant sporadically in her seat, her hips bucking into your jawline as her legs wrapped around the back of your head.
Pumping your fingers at a quicker pace, you could feel her walls contracting around you tighter, and her moans evoking to a higher pitch. Her sounds echoed around the room that was in need of more furniture, and you knew that she was getting close, and so you continued on with your actions, daring to enter another finger inside of her, which made her reach her breaking point. Her lips floundered in a silent scream, as she came around the fingers that you had stuffed inside of her.
You continued slowly with drawing out her orgasm, before you pulled back and allowed breath to be inhaled through your mouth, removing your fingers so that you had the opportunity to lick them clean. After a few minutes passed, she unravelled her legs from how they had been pressed around your skull, deciding to sit up straighter, as she glowered at you, returning to her formal confirmation.
Silently she slid her underwear and bottoms back up her legs, leaving her fly open as she watched you stand before her, almost desperately. She was almost convinced to return the favour, but that wasn't what it was, instead it was payment, and she had the professionalism to an extent to make that clear. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Here's what you wanted." She threw the baggy at you, and surprisingly to yourself, you had caught the clear packaging that was filled with your goods.
In all honesty you had forgotten all about the weed, you had fallen into a spiral of delightful passion, and you could still taste her on your lips. Now it felt awkward, she was awaiting for your departure without a doubt as she expectedly nodded towards the door. "Uh, thanks." You fumbled with the bag, finding yourself to forget your money again, with purpose, the next time that you visited her to collect.
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glaciertea · 2 months
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It's Our Paradise, and It's Our War Zone
Another Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
I wrote this as a very small collection of one-shots from my longfic (you don't need to read that to read this). I made some minor changes, but it's nothing too crazy. Also, if the Spanish is off, let me know~
Word count: 3.5K
Content Warning: 18+, Pwp, PinV, bondage, overstimulation, toy usage, he uses his webs (not just for tying things up), blindfold, cunnilingus, bad jokes :]
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Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.
For the past few days, you've been self-motivating yourself to finally tell Miguel about a fantasy that's been lingering on your mind from the moment you realized you held that attraction to him. Specifically, sexual attraction.
You wanted to dangle from his webs, completely exposed and restrained, bounded by trust and that gripping lust.
You would stand in front of the mirror, reciting how you would blurt it out or ease it into a conversation; however, when the time seemed permitted, you would chicken out the last second, pretending as if it was some other ‘important’ thing, such as ‘pancakes, waffles, or French toast?’ Or, ‘did you watch that one show as a kid?’
So far, the mission has been an obvious failure. But that wasn't going to deter you from it. Far from it. Tonight was the night you would finally megaphone your burning desires and sensations to him once and for all.
When he arrived (through the window, because he doesn't believe in the key or door), things went as normal. You made some homemade burgers and pre-cooked fries, watched random episodes from some show, and played a few rounds of your karting game. 
There was some chit-chatting in between, but the main topic refused to show itself on stage. Your palms were sweaty as you wiped them on your shorts for the umpteenth time in a row. You battled with how exactly you were going to say this; all that practicing you did began to clash, and it wasn't helping you one bit. You were scattered.
“Alright. Tell me what's on your mind before you blow a nerve over there, amor.”
You yelped at the sudden confrontation before nervously laughing louder than you expected. "Oh, it's nothing, Miggy. I'm just thinking about some funny jokes in my head.”
Miguel raised a brow. You weren't very vague; there was more to it, and he knew it, but he wanted to see if you could get it out with just a bit of a push from him.
“Okay then. Tell me a joke.”
“Wh-what?” You blinked, a bit stupefied.
“Tell me a joke. I want a good one. So go ahead and make me laugh.” His body was facing you fully. 
You were thrown into an unwarranted spotlight. All eyes were on you. You hated that you got yourself into this.
“A… a joke.” You gulped loudly.
“Si. Give me a joke.” Miguel's authoritative tone seeped out, and it wasn't helping you at all. 
A joke? That's a difficult thing to serve, especially when one is put on the spot, unless you're a professional. Witty one-liners and puns are easier, but having to come up with the starter, the execution, and the punchline is a whole process in itself.
You thought about stalling and beating around the bush.
“No stalling either.” 
At this point, you believed he was a mind-reader. There was no other explanation for it.
He was intently staring into your soul with those mesmerizing eyes, as you did your best to look at everything else besides him. 
“Right. So, here's my joke. It's coming up right now, right this seco-”
“You're stalling. Joke. Now.” 
You felt yourself straining in more ways than one.
“Okay, uh, let's see… How do you catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.” You drummed the air, tittering, before tightening your lips together.
The air was cumbersome, and Miguel's dead gaze wasn't helping.
“That was bad. Muy mal.”
“Hey! I don't think it was that bad. You asked for a joke, and I gave one.”
“Yes, but a joke that makes me laugh.” He leaned in, entrapping your body. “That didn't even get a chuckle, corazón.”
You squirmed on the sofa, his husky breath traveling through your veins. How you disliked, but loved the easy affects he had on you.
“So tell me, what's really running through there?” He skimmed his knuckle from your forehead to your chin, your breathing picking up.
He wanted you to speak your mind. He often reminds you not to be scared to do it, especially around him. He loves listening to your thoughts and observations. And one thing he also adores hearing is your wants and needs. He's always ready to care for and respect them.
“I-I…”
“Go on. What's going on in that brain? I know for a fact that it isn't just jokes.”
He had you cornered. Figuratively and literally. That stare wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. He could do this all night if he really strived for it. He is a strong-willed man after all.
“Fine! Back when we were first getting to know each other and all, we knew each other, but we didn't have that ground of–”
“You're stalling!” He snarled out, pressing his body into yours. “To the point. Now!”
Your eyes widened at that domineering voice. You didn't even realize he could get that booming and demanding. He started to tense up when he recognized that change.
“I'm so sorry, mi corazón. I didn't mean to sound like that. I usually don't use that voice unless others refuse to listen. Wa-wait! I'm not saying you're not listening; I mean–”
“I had this fantasy of being fully tied up in your webs. A sense of trust and longing to be there.” You bumped your forehead into his, that burning passion glazing over.
Miguel's breathing became rapid. Was this what you really wanted? Or was it something that you would believe he would want? He couldn't lie that he also didn't have those lingering around his brain, but would you truly be okay with it?
“I- are you sure you want something like that?”
“Yes, this is what I want to try. This is something I want.” You were determined to do this, praying that he would accept your fiery cravings.
“Corazón, will you allow me to–”
“Yes, I will allow you to take control. To tie me in your webs.” You placed your wrists together, expressing that vulnerability. “Please, Miguel.”
Miguel nodded, knowing that no more words needed to be said. Everything was now on the table. He lowered his head until his lips were on yours. Folding your legs around his waist and your arms over his neck, Miguel picked you up, placing your body on a nearby wall.
“Mi hermosa amor, te adoraré ahora y siempre. Siempre me preguntaré cómo te conseguí.” Miguel whispered against your neck, causing you to moan and writhe. 
He nibbled the crook of your neck and collarbone, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. His hands dragged down your shirt, lifting it over your head. 
He brushed his claws over your hardened nipples, tweaking them before bending forward and nibbling the nubs hungrily. You blissfully sighed out, when a sudden memory popped up in Miguel's head.
“That vibrator… It's in your left bottom drawer by your bed, right?”
You froze. “You… I… How did you know about that?!” You honestly assumed you swept that in the corner, hidden away from the naked eye.
“I found it when you told me to bring that bottle of lube.” He flicked his tongue over your cleavage, leaving hickies on your chest and the valley.
“How—but you had to really peek to have—”
“You were the one who told me to put it there, baby.” His claws made their way to your shorts and tugged them down, caressing your thighs. “It rolled out when I pulled the drawer out.”
You were flustered, stuttering, when Miguel planted a kiss to quiet you down. “Do you want me to get it? I will only do it if you want me to.”
It took you exactly one second before wholeheartedly agreeing. You wanted to know how far this fantasy of yours would go, and you were excited that there was an unexpected but welcome addition.
You slid out one of your dining room chairs and sat down. Miguel held that confidence in his walk, and you knew it. Strolling back out with your purple and white magic wand and the bottle, you gave a thumbs-up.
Retaking your earlier positions, he sat the items in the chair, pressing your body back into the wall, two fingers making their way in your panties, rubbing the folds, proud of how wet you were.
“Mm, I–ah–want to be gagged and blindfolded.”
“You really want to be tethered up, don't you?” His thumb rolled over your clit as he stared for any signs of displeasure.
“I have an eye mask in the same drawer, and the fantasy includes your webs in between my teeth.” 
Miguel made no hesitation; he was back with it in a blink of an eye. You could tell how roused he was by the throbbing bulge in his pajama pants, as you swore you could see some damp stains. 
“If I do this, you'll need to have a way to alert me if you start feeling uncomfortable. Safewords won't exactly work.”
You closed one eye, thinking for a few seconds, when you snapped your fingers. Propping your hands over your head, you gave a thumbs-up. 
“Thumbs-up means you can go; bunny ears mean slow down; and when I snap, stop.” You demonstrated each motion as Miguel nodded.
“Vale, vale, bien.” He brushed the side of your face and smiled. “You ready?”
You nodded, arms still above your head. He picked you up with ease as you examined him shooting his webs at the wall and the ceiling. Carefully sticking you to the netting, he bound you in a dragonfly shibari tie, thoroughly taking his time. 
“How many times have you done this?” You eyeballed his work as much as possible.
“A few.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach. “But that's all I'm going to say.”
You hummed out at the intriguing fact that'll now be stuck in your brain.
Putting the eye mask on, he waved his claw in front of you, happy that you didn't react to it.
“Okay. Ready to be muted?”
“I'm ready to be partially subdued.” You chuckled as he joined in.
“Okay, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable.” He shot out a long string, double roping it around your mouth and part of your head. “Bite down.”
You obeyed as you tried to get used to the thick organic webbing. It was like a rope, but not. A feeling that if someone asked you to describe, you wouldn't know where to begin.
He strummed over your curves, crooning at the beauty that was secured before him. His full lips and tongue were dragging and wetting your body as you felt two unsheathed fingers hook the bands of your underwear, drawing them down until they were on the floor.
His eyes were locked on your arousal. You exhaled out contentedly, knowing that you were in safe hands. Even if you weren't in control, you still felt like the leader of this.
He dropped to his knees, eye level with your clenching heat. You awaited him, electricity coursing through your veins, desperate to know when he would have his way with you. You could only groan, not being able to move any part of your body as you spread open like a buffet exclusively for him.
“Always a delightful sight.” He nipped your inner thighs, adding suction to leave markings. 
“Mine.” He trailed his tongue over your vulva, making sure to get every part.
A while escaped, your chest heaving from the sensual lick. You yearned for more as you tried, but no matter what you enunciated, only jumbled-up groans from your throat came out.
He pretended not to hear your neediness, teasing your folds with a flick here and there. He would quickly bury his head into your entrance, pumping his tongue for a couple of seconds before pulling out. He did it several times, and you weren't happy with the taunts.
“Mmm! Mm mmmph!” 
“Mmm, no puedo escucharte. All I hear is murmurs, amor.” 
You could envision his condescending smirk just from his voice. You growled, but stopped when you felt the familiar head on your clit.
On a low setting, Miguel settled the toy, knotting the web around your waist and hips so it could stay attached right to the fleshy bud.
“Now, you will cum when I tell you. Understand?” He slid two fingers into your core, scissoring to help with your urges. 
You hastily gave the thumbs-up, and your moans in his ears made him grunt. “Muy bueno, muy, muy bueno.”
He yanked his two fingers out, causing you to panic and request that he keep going as best as you could, when he suddenly upped the power.
“Mmmm—Mmph. Mmn!” 
He removed his clothes and sauntered over to the seat you left out. Cozily perching himself down, he squeezed some of the clear substance on his hands, pleasuring his throbbing cock.
You despised that you couldn't see a thing, but you loved the feeling that he was still providing, even if you didn't know what it could be. You listened to his praises, your ears picking up squishing noises. You couldn't tell if that was from you or if he was doing something to himself.
“Look at my gorgeous moon. She's doing so well, trying not to cum. You're such a good girl for following my rules.” 
He stroked himself faster as he eyed your messy, trembling figure. The vibrator went wild as your legs spasmed, but with the restraints, it barely seemed as though they were moving.
He licked his lips at your dripping pussy—a nice puddle formed on your wooden floorboards. A delicious view for only him to behold.
Your muffled screams and begs were music to his ears. Your face drenched in sweat, tears, and saliva, your mind ragged, knowing that he's observing every reaction and every moment. You knew he was enjoying himself way too much.
“Let's see if we can add a bit more, corazón.”
You shook your head; your faint pleas went unheard. The fact that he already denied you to orgasm, and now he wants more? He's torturing you at this point just because he can. And you adored it.
“Mmph! Mmm!” You wriggled as you sensed him getting closer to you.
“You doing okay?” He stroked your hair, and you gave the thumbs-up to have him keep going.
“Bueno.” 
You heard another buzzing sound. Did he have a second vibrator? Did you? You swore you only had one, so you had zero idea what it could be.
“Mmmm? Mmm?”
Miguel chuckled at your curiosity, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Remember, mi amor. No cumming unless I say.”
The sound was getting louder. You really wanted to see what it exactly was, so you snapped your finger, and Miguel immediately tore the silk from your mouth.
“Corazón? You okay?” He examined your face for any indication of uneasiness.
“I'm fine, Miggy. Just a bit interested if you had another vibrator.”
“No. It's my web.” 
You were a bit lost. His web? But the ones around you weren't humming or anything like that, so that probed the question: what type of web was this then? 
“But how is it buzz–” Your mouth was once again covered as you screeched when Miguel took hold of the toy, rubbing and pressing it harder on your clitoris.
“Laser web. Now remember. No. Releasing.” You gasped when something heated was pushed into your opening, convulsing and pulsating lightly.
Your toes curled at the overstimulation. You sobbed, your heart hammering at a treacherous tempo. You wanted to cum so badly; you wanted that sweet release of relief and satisfaction, but he wasn't going to allow it.
“There you go, such a good girl.” He pushed the web in and out in a rhythmic pattern. The drones from the objects, the squelching from your pussy, and those cute noises emitting from you made him twitch madly.
Your juices trickled down his claws, the other side wanting to escape as the nectar from your delectable pussy stickied his hand and web, as he knew you were doing everything in your power to not release.
He dropped the web when a raspy, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck, fuck—I want you, corazón. I need you. Please.” 
Miguel grasped the webs, his eyes lingering, waiting for that signal. You nodded, as he saw the thumb. He smiled and removed the mesh and blindfold, revealing that warmth and faith in your smile and gaze.
“You are beautiful, you know?”
“You mention it every chance you get.” You giggled out when he pushed his forehead on yours.
“Then I will continue to do it. You are very beautiful.”
He kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, before shoving himself in one go. You threw your head back at the suddenness. A cry quickly turned into a shriek when you felt the familiar buzz on your clitoris once more.
Miguel began to thrust maniacally, your back rubbing against the wall from every pump he gave.
“You like that? Mmn, mmm, fuck, mi corazón, such a perfect little pussy for papi.” He grunted in your ear, licking the lobe.
“Mi-Miguel! Too… too much!” Your screams sprang out, your walls constricting with every deep impact.
“You can- fuck… You can take it—ah, mierda, so good…”
He released his firm hold on the netting to your hips. Pulling all the way out, he paused for a few seconds before ramming himself back to the hilt. He repeated this, prizing himself on the reactions.
Tears rolling down your chin, your shudders, and whimpers that merge into strangled moans. Your disheveled state as you took Miguel, feeling the tip brush against your cervix, as your belly bulged from every breach.
His hips grinding against yours, your brain foggy with white, and him in the center. The vibrator was whirring with every rock; you were losing your mind.
“Too sensitive- Miguel. Please!”
“I'm not stopping. Going to fuck–ah–going to fuck you until you can't walk.” 
“Miguel!” You wailed out as drool leaked down as he rubbed against your g-spot.
“That's right; let them know who's doing this. You're mine. I'm going to have you and everyone else remember.” He rasped out in that ragged, husky tone, making you quiver all over.
His name was the only thing leaving your lips as your soaking walls clenched. The sensation from his throbbing, heated shaft as he hit every point perfectly. You slowly began to garble out his name, slurring it into one incoherent sentence.
“Mig-Miguuel!”
“There you go, who owns this pussy?”
“You.”
Miguel snarled in your face, yanking your head back. “I don't like repeating myself. Who? Owns? This? Pussy?!”
His hip bones slammed into yours. You were aware you were going to be overtly sore and bruised in the morning, but it was all worth it in the moment.
“Miguel! Miguel owns this pussy!” 
“¡Sí, joder! ¡Buena chica, qué buena chica! ¡Papi es dueño de este coño, papi es dueño de este hermosa coño!” 
You were far gone; the sounds of your wet, erotic bodies covered every square centimeter of your living room and kitchen, and maybe even out of the door.
Your feverish sobs and his primal growls sent you into a frenzy. A strong yearning began to creep itself into your stomach as Miguel's brutal pace refused to let up.
“I feel—ah—Miggy! I'm going to—I'm going to—”
“Cum, cum, my love. Yes, yes, cum on my cock. Do it. Cum!”
His hand reached between you two as he pressed the overwhelming toy more on your sensitive bud, jerking it back and forth like a joycon.
Your mouth opened wide, and your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head when you snapped.
“Miguel!” 
The bubble burst. You squirted out on his abs, your thighs, the floor, and who knows what else. Your body quaked as if someone were trying to perform an exorcism. But whatever was possessing you, you didn't want it to leave.
He growled out, pushing your legs up to change the angle. He propelled sporadically as he was close to his own climax.
“Sí, sí, sí, joder, joder, joder—corazón!”
He roared out, his talons pricking your hips, as he emptied his entire soul into you. 
His chest heaved, your bodies glistening in sweat, as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky breath released.
“Ah… ah- ha…. Fuck. Baby? Corazón? You… you okay?”
“I…”
“Yes? You okay?” He wiped some moisture off your face.
“I- if the dove is the bird of peace, what is the bird of true love? It’s the swallow.” You gave a goofy and sleepy grin.
Miguel froze before he snickered and began to laugh. 
“I did it! I made you laugh.”
“Ay, yes… Yes, you did. What am I going to do with you?”
You both smiled into the kiss, happily swirling your tongues in a messy dance.
“Did I fulfill your fantasy, amor?”
“Mhmm, but let's go another round, just to be sure it was completely satisfactory.”
“Dios mío, me estás matando, luna mía. Pero maldita sea, si no es de la mejor manera posible.”
You didn't understand, but your eyes were right back covered, and that was enough for you to know.
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shybluebirdninja · 24 days
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Boundaries of Obsession
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Summary: Logan, a seasoned bodyguard with a troubled past, is reluctantly assigned to protect Y/n, a 23-year-old diplomat's daughter. The vast age gap between them creates immediate tension, with Rachel resistant to Logan's intrusive presence. However, as they spend more time together, Logan’s professional detachment gives way to possessiveness and jealousy. His obsession threatens to undermine their relationship, forcing both to confront the boundaries of their growing feelings for each other.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female-Human Reader (Y/N Sinclair) Warning: Angst, lil bit of fluff
Logan had been on the edge of a goddamn meltdown, and he’d been desperately hoping for a break from the never-ending grind of his job. He was sprawled out in his small, dimly lit apartment, surrounded by the detritus of his last assignment: crumpled papers, empty takeout containers, and an assortment of half-empty bottles that might have once contained something drinkable. His apartment looked like a tornado had decided to take a detour through his life.
He was nursing a mug of coffee that had long lost any semblance of warmth, staring at the peeling wallpaper as if it might provide some answers. He was just about to lose himself in the haze of his thoughts when the shrill ring of the office phone cut through the silence like a damn alarm bell. It was a sound that meant trouble, and trouble was the last thing he wanted.
With a groan that could only be described as pure frustration, Logan grabbed the receiver and answered with a voice that could best be described as a growl. “Logan.”
“Hey, Logan,” came the voice on the other end. It was Rick, his boss. The tone was serious—Rick had a knack for sounding like someone was about to get shot whenever he was on the line. “We’ve got a new assignment for you.”
Logan rolled his eyes, though Rick couldn’t see it through the phone. “Seriously? What now? Can’t a guy catch a break? I’m drowning in paperwork and old pizza boxes here. I need some damn time off.”
Rick wasn’t one for beating around the bush. “This isn’t a joke, Logan. We need you to protect Y/N Sinclair. She’s the daughter of a diplomat. She’s 23, and there’s been some pretty credible threats against her.”
Logan let out a snort, one that was more of a sarcastic chuckle than anything else. “Protect a diplomat’s kid? That sounds like a whole barrel of fun. What’s she done, pissed off some world leaders? Because that’s usually the kind of thing that gets you on the hit list.”
Rick’s voice took on a slightly softer tone, which was rare for him. “I get it. It sounds like a cushy gig, but it’s high-profile. We need someone who knows their shit. You’ve got the experience, and frankly, I don’t think anyone else is up for it. And hey, it’s just a few weeks. Think of it as a temporary change of pace.”
Logan sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was on them. “Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to be thrilled about it. If I end up babysitting someone with a silver spoon stuck in her mouth, I swear, I’m going to lose it.”
Rick chuckled, though it was the kind of chuckle that suggested he was already preparing for more of Logan’s bullshit. “You always have a way of making these things sound so glamorous. But thanks for taking it on. I’ll send over the details. Just remember, this is important.”
Logan slammed the receiver down, muttering curses under his breath. “Important. Sure. Probably just another way to get me tangled up in someone else’s mess.” He glanced around his apartment, wondering how on earth he was going to get through this. He picked up a stray piece of paper, squinting at it as if it might hold some kind of answer to his current predicament.
His mind was already racing through the logistics of the new assignment: meeting Y/N Sinclair, figuring out her schedule, and trying to figure out how to stay sane while being stuck in the same space as someone who probably didn’t know the first thing about real danger. He was about to face yet another chapter of dealing with people who had no idea what it was like to live in the real world, where every day was a battle and every decision was a gamble.
Logan took a deep breath, staring at the mess that was his life and muttering to himself. “Well, at least I’ll get a change of scenery. Maybe I’ll even get to add a few new scars to the collection.” He chuckled darkly, knowing full well that he was in for a ride he wasn’t exactly thrilled about.
And so, with that resigned acceptance, Logan prepared himself for whatever hell was about to unfold. He might have been grumbling and cursing every step of the way, but deep down, he knew he’d take the job.
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Logan’s arrival at the Sinclair residence was like stepping into a fucking fairy tale. He was greeted by the kind of grandeur that would make a king feel underdressed. The estate sprawled out before him in all its marble and chandelier glory. It was the kind of place where the floors sparkled under the glow of opulent fixtures, and every corner seemed to whisper tales of old money and impeccable taste. Logan took it all in with a mixture of awe and begrudging respect.
He pushed through the massive double doors, which opened with a creak that seemed to say, “Welcome to the land of the rich and ridiculously privileged.” The marble lobby was bathed in a soft, natural light that filtered through high arched windows, casting a warm glow over everything. Logan's boots made a dull thud against the marble as he walked in, a stark contrast to the silent elegance of the place. His own scuffed, worn-out shoes were a far cry from the polished perfection that surrounded him.
Logan glanced around, taking in the elegant furniture and tasteful decorations—each piece meticulously chosen to scream luxury. It was all a bit much, really. His small, dimly lit apartment felt like a lifetime away from this place. He was used to grimy street corners and dingy warehouses, not this plush extravagance. He felt a twinge of discomfort, as if he was an imposter at a very high-society masquerade.
Then he saw her. Y/N Sinclair. She was standing by the grand staircase, waiting for him with an air of cool composure that was both intriguing and slightly infuriating. The way she carried herself with a blend of youthful enthusiasm and restrained annoyance made it clear she wasn’t thrilled to see him. She was striking—no doubt about it. Her beauty was understated yet captivating, and her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her face in a way that made her sharp, green eyes even more arresting. Those eyes were curious but had an edge that suggested she was ready to be unimpressed.
Logan approached her with a professional detachment that was more an act of self-preservation than anything else. His dark suit felt like a costume he wore to fit in with this high-society circus, and it contrasted sharply with Y/N’s more casual attire—a simple blouse and jeans. He knew the suit was his attempt to blend in, but it felt like it was doing the opposite. He couldn’t help but admire the way she looked, though he kept it buried under a layer of gruff professionalism.
Y/N turned to face him as he drew near, her expression a mix of guarded curiosity and subtle skepticism. She extended her hand, and Logan took it, shaking it firmly. “Mr. Logan, I presume?”
“Ms. Sinclair,” Logan replied, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ll be your bodyguard for the duration of this assignment. My job is to ensure your safety.”
Y/N withdrew her hand and crossed her arms, her posture defensive. “I’m not sure why I need a bodyguard. I’m just going about my daily life. Surely that’s manageable.”
Logan couldn’t help but let a hint of sarcasm slip through. “It’s not just about managing; it’s about making sure you don’t get yourself into a world of trouble. There’ve been credible threats against you, and it’s my job to keep you safe. I’ll be tagging along wherever you go, making sure nothing goes south.”
Y/N’s lips curled into a slight frown, and she glanced around the opulent lobby, clearly uncomfortable with the intrusion into her personal space. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to this, won’t I?”
Logan noticed the flicker of frustration in her eyes. He could see she was trying to reconcile the grandeur of her surroundings with the reality of having her freedom curtailed. “We’ll figure out a way to make this as smooth as possible. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s necessary given the circumstances.”
Y/N huffed softly, her frustration palpable. “I’ve always valued my independence. Having someone shadow me every step of the way feels like an invasion of privacy.”
Logan’s expression softened, though he kept his tone steady. “I get that. It’s a hell of an adjustment. My job is to be as unobtrusive as possible while making sure you stay safe. I’ll try not to step on your toes more than necessary.”
Y/N’s gaze softened a little, though her defensiveness was still there. “I appreciate that you’re trying to be considerate. But can you at least explain what you’ll be doing? How is this going to work?”
Logan nodded, thankful for the chance to lay out the plan. “Sure thing. My primary duties will include keeping you company during any public or private events, assessing potential risks, and coordinating with local security. I’ll also be on the lookout for any threats and making sure your day-to-day activities are as safe as possible. I’ll be around, but I’ll try to keep it low-key.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly still skeptical. “And what if I decide to go somewhere or do something without you?”
Logan considered her question, knowing it was a crucial point. “If you decide to go out on your own, I’ll need to check out your destination and who you’ll be with. It’s not about limiting your freedom, but about making sure you’re safe. We’ll work together to plan your activities in a way that keeps you secure while respecting your autonomy.”
Y/N sighed, a sound that was equal parts frustration and resignation. “I suppose that makes sense. I’m just not used to having someone constantly watching over me.”
Logan offered a reassuring smile, though he was aware of the fine line he had to walk. “I understand. It’s going to take some getting used to, but I’m here to make this process as smooth as possible. If you have any concerns or preferences, just let me know.”
Y/N’s eyes met his, and for a moment, the skepticism seemed to wane. She gave a small, begrudging nod. “Alright. I guess we’ll have to make the best of this situation.”
Logan’s smile remained professional, but he felt a flicker of relief. “Thanks for being understanding. I’ll do my best to ensure this is as smooth and secure as possible for you.”
Y/N led him through the residence, her pace steady as she showed him the key areas he needed to know. As they walked through the grand halls, she pointed out various rooms and gave a brief overview of her daily schedule. Logan couldn’t help but notice the opulence of the surroundings—the rich tapestries on the walls, the polished wood of the furniture—all of it spoke of a life he was only beginning to understand.
During the tour, Y/N maintained a polite distance, though there was a formality in her demeanor that made it clear she was still adjusting to the situation. Logan observed her closely, noting the way she moved and spoke. She was a study in contrasts: graceful yet guarded, confident yet clearly struggling with the invasion of her privacy.
As they reached her personal quarters, Y/N stopped and turned to him with a faint smile. “This is where I’ll be spending most of my time. You’ll have access to this area, but please try to avoid intruding on my private space.”
Logan nodded, feeling the weight of her request. “Understood. I’ll be discreet and respectful of your privacy.”
Y/N’s smile widened slightly, though she was still clearly adjusting. “I appreciate that. Let’s start with a schedule for tomorrow. Do you have any preferences for how you’d like to handle things?”
Logan thought for a moment, weighing his response. “I’d suggest we start by reviewing your planned activities for the day. It’ll help me understand your routine and spot any potential risks. We can also discuss any specific concerns you might have.”
Y/N nodded in agreement. “Alright, let’s do that.”
As they moved on to discuss the details of the upcoming days, Logan found himself increasingly intrigued by Y/N. Despite her initial defensiveness, there were moments when her sharp wit and intelligence shone through. She was passionate about her work and had a clear sense of purpose, which was both admirable and, at times, frustratingly idealistic.
In the evening, as their discussions wrapped up, Y/N offered Logan a hesitant smile. “I guess this isn’t going to be as terrible as I initially thought. Thanks for taking the time to explain everything.”
Logan returned the smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I’m glad to hear that. We’ll address any concerns as they come up. It’s important that you feel comfortable and safe.”
Y/N’s smile grew warmer. “Thanks, Mr. Logan. I suppose you’re not so bad after all.”
Logan chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
As Y/N headed off to her room, Logan remained in the lobby, reflecting on the day’s events. He knew the road ahead would be filled with challenges, both professional and personal. Building rapport with Y/N was just the beginning, and he needed to be prepared for the complexities that would inevitably arise.
He took a deep breath, resolved to tackle the assignment with the same dedication and professionalism he had applied to every previous job. Gaining Y/N’s trust and ensuring her safety would require patience and adaptability. As he prepared for the days ahead, he reminded himself that the success of the assignment hinged not just on protecting Y/N from external threats, but also on navigating the delicate balance of their evolving relationship.
The next morning, Logan met Y/N at breakfast, ready to dive into the day’s activities. As he observed her, he felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The assignment had just begun, and he was acutely aware that the dynamics between them would shape their time together. Y/N greeted him with a more relaxed demeanor, and Logan took it as a positive sign.
He knew that the coming days would be crucial in building a rapport and establishing a sense of trust. With each interaction, Logan hoped to not only fulfill his duties but also make Y/N feel as comfortable and secure as possible. Logan’s initial days with the Sinclairs were a whirlwind of adjustments and observations.
Their interactions were a delicate dance of professionalism and personal boundaries. Y/N, though initially resistant, began to show signs of acceptance. The tension from their first meeting gradually eased, replaced by a tentative cooperation. Logan observed her routines and preferences, making adjustments to his approach as needed. He found that Y/N’s defensiveness was often a mask for her underlying vulnerability. She had been thrust into a world of scrutiny and expectation, and his presence was a constant reminder of her lack of control.
Logan’s role went beyond just being a physical presence; it was about understanding the subtleties of Y/N’s world and adapting to them. The Sinclair estate was a world apart from his usual environment, but he approached the challenge with the same focus and determination he applied to his work. He made it a point to blend into the background, allowing Y/N the space she needed while remaining vigilant. Their conversations gradually became less formal, and Y/N began to open up about her life and the pressures she faced. Logan learned about her aspirations, her struggles with her public image, and her desire for a more ordinary life. It was clear that beneath the veneer of wealth and privilege, Y/N was grappling with her own set of challenges.
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Building trust with Y/N Sinclair wasn’t a walk in the park. It was a constant grind, a mix of small wins and the occasional fuck-up. Logan knew that his success in this gig wasn’t just about keeping her safe; it was also about breaking down the walls between them and making her feel at ease. He was working on making their interactions more than just a transactional deal—he was in it to build some real rapport.
One evening, after a day that felt like it never ended—meetings, events, and more meetings—Y/N approached Logan with a thoughtful look on her face. The day’s chaos had left them both a bit drained, but there was something different in the way she spoke to him.
“You know, Mr. Logan,” she started, her tone softer than usual, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually starting to appreciate having you around. It’s been weird, having someone breathing down my neck all the time, but I’m beginning to see that there’s some value in it.”
Logan gave her a genuine smile, feeling a bit of relief. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it’s not exactly the most comfortable situation, and I really appreciate you sticking with it. My goal is to make this as smooth as possible for you.”
Y/N’s face relaxed a bit, and she seemed to be weighing her next words carefully. “I get that. And I can see you’re trying to help. It’s just… sometimes it feels like there’s this invisible wall between us. Like, I’m always having to explain myself or justify my actions.”
Logan took a moment to let that sink in. “I get it. It’s a tough balance—trying to respect your privacy while also making sure you’re safe. If there’s anything specific you need or any way I can make this easier, just let me know.”
Y/N’s eyes softened, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in them. “Actually, there is something. I’ve got some personal stuff going on, and it would be nice if you could give me a bit of space to handle it. I don’t want to push you away, but I also need some time to sort things out on my own.”
Logan’s face showed genuine empathy. “I appreciate you being honest with me. I’ll give you the space you need, but remember, I’m here if you need anything or if the situation changes.”
Y/N’s smile was the kind that made it clear she meant it. It wasn’t just a polite gesture; it was real. “Thanks, Mr. Logan. I’m starting to feel like we’re actually getting somewhere.”
Logan’s role as her bodyguard had shifted from just being a protector to becoming someone she could actually talk to—a confidant and a source of stability in her chaotic world. The initial awkwardness and tension had given way to a growing mutual respect. They were finding their groove, and it wasn’t just about being professional anymore. Y/N’s trust in Logan was becoming more evident. Their conversations were less formal, and she seemed more comfortable opening up about her life and her struggles. Logan had noticed that Y/N’s walls were coming down, bit by bit. She was starting to let him in, and that was a significant shift from their early interactions.
Logan was adapting well to the changes. He found himself more attuned to Y/N’s needs and concerns. The balance between professional duty and personal connection was delicate, but he was managing it. It wasn’t just about being her bodyguard anymore; it was about being someone she could rely on, someone who understood the complexities of her life. One evening, after a particularly intense day, they found themselves in a more relaxed setting. Y/N had just finished a call that left her visibly frustrated. Logan, sensing the opportunity, decided to push the boundaries a bit. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips.
“You know,” he said, his tone more playful than usual, “for someone who’s constantly surrounded by people, you seem to spend a lot of time looking like you need a drink.”
Y/N looked at him, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Logan shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “Just saying, you’ve got that ‘I need a drink and a vacation’ look. And if you’re ever up for some company, I might know a place that serves a mean cocktail.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but trying to keep her composure. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Logan.”
Logan laughed, his tone light and easy. “Hey, it’s all part of the job. If I can make you smile or take your mind off things, then I’m doing my job right.”
Y/N’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I guess you’ve got a point. And maybe I do need a break from all this craziness.”
The shift in their interactions was palpable. Logan’s attempts at humor and casual conversation were breaking down the last of the barriers between them. Y/N seemed more relaxed, and there was a newfound ease in their interactions. Logan’s role was no longer confined to the professional realm; he was becoming a friend, someone who understood the weight of her world.
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What had started as a distant and necessary alliance had morphed into something more layered and intense. Neither of them had anticipated the emotional currents that would come to define their relationship. Y/N’s initial irritation with Logan’s constant presence had eased into a grudging acceptance. She had started to see the value in his unyielding vigilance, even if it was a constant reminder of the danger she faced. Their shared moments—whether it was casual chats or the occasional laugh—began to blur the lines between professional duty and personal connection.
Logan, for his part, found himself increasingly drawn into Y/N’s world. The boundaries he had originally maintained started to dissolve. His protective instincts, sharp and well-honed, began to stray into a more personal territory. Though he masked his growing attachment with professionalism, Y/N could sense the change.
The first real crack in their evolving relationship came with Tom, an artist Y/N had met at a charity event. Tom was charismatic and effortlessly charming, a stark contrast to Logan’s usually stoic demeanor. He and Y/N had hit it off, and soon, they were collaborating on a project that was deeply personal to her. One evening, after a lively gathering that left them both a bit drained, Y/N and Logan found themselves alone in her apartment. The living room was softly lit by a lamp, the remnants of their evening—half-empty wine glasses and the faint echo of music—lingering in the air.
“Tom’s been amazing,” Y/N said, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. “We’ve been making incredible progress on the project. He’s so creative—his ideas are just... phenomenal. We’ve been working late into the night, and it’s been really inspiring.”
Logan’s usual composure started to crack. He stood rigid, his voice coming out sharper than intended. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Tom lately,” he said, barely hiding his frustration. “I’ve noticed how close you’ve become.”
Y/N’s excitement faltered, replaced by confusion. “Tom’s just a friend. We’re working on something together. What’s the problem?”
Logan’s irritation bubbled up. “It’s not just about the project. I’ve seen how you interact with him, and I don’t fucking like it. I don’t trust him. I’m here to keep you safe, and I don’t like the idea of you being so close to someone I don’t know well.”
Y/N’s face flared with a mix of hurt and anger. “You’re not my goddamn guardian, Logan. I don’t need you deciding who I can or can’t be friends with. Tom’s been nothing but supportive. Just because you don’t know him doesn’t mean he’s a threat.”
Logan’s frustration turned into outright anger. “It’s not about controlling you. It’s about your fucking safety. I’ve seen too many situations where people who seem harmless end up being anything but. My job is to protect you, and that means being cautious about who you spend time with.”
Y/N stood up abruptly, her movements sharp. “You’re crossing a line here, Logan. I appreciate your protection, but this is my life. I’m not some fragile doll that needs to be guarded every second. I deserve the freedom to make my own choices and trust the people I want to trust.”
Logan’s anger flared, his voice rising. “It’s not about mistrusting you. It’s about making sure you’re fucking safe. I can’t just ignore potential risks, especially when I’m responsible for your well-being.”
Y/N’s voice wavered between anger and hurt. “You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t be close to. I understand you’re doing your job, but you need to respect my autonomy. I’m not asking you to like Tom, but I am asking you to trust me.”
Logan’s face was a mask of internal conflict. “Trust is hard for me, Y/N. I’ve been in situations where trust was fucking shattered, and it makes you wary. But I’m trying to find a balance here. I don’t want to jeopardize our working relationship or make you feel controlled.”
Y/N’s anger slowly melted into sadness. “I need you to understand that I’m not asking for special treatment or to be shielded from the world. I just want to live my life without feeling like I’m under constant surveillance. I need you to trust me, just as much as I’m trying to trust you.”
Logan’s shoulders sagged, the weight of the argument pressing down on him. “I do trust you, Y/N. It’s just that my instincts are hard to turn off. I’m used to being on high alert, especially when it comes to someone I care about.”
Y/N’s expression softened as she absorbed his words. “I get that you care, and I appreciate your dedication. But there has to be a middle ground where I can have my space and make my own decisions without feeling suffocated.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, charged with the unspoken emotions of both. Logan wrestled with his internal conflict, realizing his protective instincts were beginning to cloud his judgment. Y/N struggled with asserting her independence while acknowledging Logan’s genuine concern.
After a long pause, Logan finally spoke, his voice softer and more measured. “I don’t want to be the cause of tension between us. Maybe we can find a way to balance your safety with your need for autonomy. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and frustration. “I appreciate that. Let’s work on finding that balance together. I don’t want us to be at odds, but I also need to feel like I have control over my own life.”
Logan’s expression softened, and he took a deep breath. “Agreed. We’ll figure it out. I’ll try to be more mindful of your need for space while still doing my job.”
Y/N offered a tentative smile, signaling her willingness to move forward. “Thank you. I’m sure we can make this work.”
The next few days were tense but marked by small, deliberate efforts from both sides to bridge the gap that had opened up between them. Logan made a conscious effort to respect Y/N’s autonomy, giving her space while maintaining his vigilant presence. Y/N, in turn, tried to understand the depth of Logan’s protective instincts, recognizing that his intentions, though sometimes misguided, were rooted in genuine concern. One evening, as they found themselves in a more relaxed setting—Logan had just returned from a long day and Y/N was unwinding with a book—Logan decided to try to lighten the mood. He plopped down on the couch next to her, a mischievous grin on his face.
“You know,” he said, his tone playful, “if you’re ever tired of working late with Tom, I know a great spot for drinks. Just saying.”
Y/N looked up from her book, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”
Logan chuckled, leaning in a bit closer. “Hey, I’m just trying to make sure you’re not drowning in work. Plus, it’s not every day I get to see you unwind. You deserve a break.”
Y/N’s smile widened, and she shook her head. “You’re incorrigible. But I appreciate the offer. Maybe I’ll take you up on it.”
Logan’s grin widened, feeling a rare sense of triumph. “That’s what I like to hear. And who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get to meet this Tom guy. Make sure he knows who’s really looking out for you.”
Y/N laughed, a genuine sound that made Logan’s heart skip a beat. But just as he was about to make another playful comment, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and her smile faltered slightly.
“It’s Tom,” she said, showing him the screen. “He’s just checking in about our project.”
Logan’s mood shifted abruptly. He forced himself to mask the pang of jealousy, but his irritation was palpable. “Right. Well, tell Tom I said hi. Or better yet, let’s talk about something else. How’s your day been otherwise?”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the change in Logan’s demeanor. “My day’s been fine. Why?”
Logan’s voice came out sharper than he intended. “Just curious. You seem pretty wrapped up in this project with Tom.”
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you seriously jealous of Tom? He’s just a friend, Logan. It’s not like we’re going to get married or something.”
Logan’s frustration boiled over. “It’s not about jealousy. It’s about the fact that you’re spending all this time with him and I’m left feeling like a third wheel. It’s my job to keep you safe, and seeing you get so close to someone I don’t know well just pisses me off.”
Y/N stood up, her patience wearing thin. “You’re being ridiculous. Tom’s not a threat. You’re overreacting.”
Logan’s voice rose, unable to keep his anger in check. “It’s not about overreacting. It’s about making sure you’re fucking safe. I’m here to do a job, and I can’t just ignore potential risks, even if it means coming off as a jealous asshole.”
Y/N’s face turned red with frustration. “You need to get over yourself, Logan. I’m not a child. I deserve to make my own decisions without feeling like I’m being controlled.”
Logan’s anger started to crack as he saw the hurt in Y/N’s eyes. His voice softened, a mixture of regret and vulnerability. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off like that. It’s just... sometimes it’s hard to switch off the part of me that’s always on high alert.”
Y/N’s anger ebbed away, replaced by a more measured sadness. “I get that you care, but you need to trust me. I’m asking for a bit of space and the freedom to make my own choices. I’m not asking for special treatment.”
Logan’s expression softened, a mix of guilt and longing in his eyes. “I do trust you, Y/N. It’s just... it’s hard for me to let go sometimes. I’ve been through a lot, and it makes it tough to just let things be. But I’m trying. I really am.”
Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “I appreciate that. I know you’re trying, but we need to find a balance where we both feel comfortable. I need to feel like I have control over my own life.”
Logan nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “You’re right. We need to find that balance. I don’t want to be the cause of tension between us.”
Y/N’s expression was a mix of relief and resolve. “Good. Let’s work on it together. I don’t want us to be at odds, but I also need to feel respected and trusted.”
Logan took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. “Agreed. I’ll work on being more mindful of your space while still keeping you safe. And, for what it’s worth, I want to be honest with you about something.”
Y/N looked at him, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
Logan hesitated for a moment, then spoke with a raw honesty. “These past few months, spending time with you—it’s been... I don’t know, something I didn’t expect. I’ve been so used to being alone, and having you around, it’s... changed things for me. I’ve been trying to fight it, but I have feelings for you, Y/N. You’ve become a part of my life in a way I didn’t think was possible.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and emotion flickering across her face. “Logan, I... I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
Logan looked down, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. “I’m sorry if I’ve been overbearing. I didn’t mean to come off as a controlling asshole. It’s just that you’ve become important to me. I want to protect you, not just because it’s my job, but because... because I care about you.”
Y/N took a deep breath, processing his words. “I appreciate your honesty, Logan. It means a lot. And I want you to know that I care about you too. I just need to find a way where we can both feel comfortable and respected.”
Logan’s face softened, a tentative smile forming. “Yeah, I think we can figure it out. We just need to communicate and understand each other better.” Y/N nodded, a small, genuine smile on her lips. “Agreed. Let’s work on it. Together.
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The weeks wore on, and Logan's feelings for Y/N twisted into a dark, consuming obsession. What had started as a protective instinct soon spiraled into a desperate need to control every aspect of her life. His once-guarded professionalism eroded, replaced by an all-consuming jealousy that tainted every interaction Y/N had with others.
It was clear to everyone around them—if they cared to notice—that Logan’s possessiveness was turning into a problem. He scrutinized Y/N’s every move with a vigilance that bordered on the obsessive. What had initially seemed like simple concern now looked more like an all-out invasion of her personal space. Each friendly interaction Y/N had with other men seemed to send Logan into a fit of barely-contained rage.
The turning point came at a gallery opening where Y/N was showcasing her latest collection. The event was buzzing with art enthusiasts and critics, all eager to discuss Y/N’s work. Logan had been assigned to discreetly monitor the event, but his attempts at maintaining his usual detachment quickly fell apart. He stationed himself on the edge of the crowd, ostensibly to observe, but his gaze was fixated on Y/N.
Y/N, radiant in her element, moved gracefully through the crowd. Her laughter rang out clearly and genuinely as she engaged with admirers. Every compliment, every interaction with other men seemed to deepen Logan’s unease. His jealousy flared at every friendly pat on the back, every animated conversation. The sight of her mingling with others was like a knife to his gut, sparking a storm of irrationality within him.
By the time the gallery event wound down, Logan was a bundle of barely contained frustration. His usually controlled eyes burned with a simmering intensity that he struggled to mask. As Y/N returned to her apartment, Logan’s tension was palpable, his earlier attempt to maintain a façade of professionalism slipping away the moment they were alone.
Y/N, sensing the shift in Logan’s demeanor, eyed him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You seem off tonight. Everything okay?”
Logan’s voice was taut with irritation. “Oh, you know, just the usual. You were the fucking center of attention tonight. Surrounded by a bunch of guys. It pissed me off.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and frustration. “Seriously? You’re complaining about me interacting with people at my own event? It’s part of my job, Logan. You’re being unreasonable.”
Logan’s face twisted with conflicted rage. “It’s not just about being unreasonable. Seeing you with those other men... it fucking kills me. I can’t stand it. I know it’s irrational, but I just... I can’t fucking help it.”
Y/N’s frustration boiled over. She crossed her arms and stared him down. “This isn’t about your feelings of insecurity. It’s about control. You can’t dictate every aspect of my professional life. It’s unhealthy.”
Logan’s anger surged, his voice rising. “It’s not about controlling you. I’m just trying to protect you. Every time I see you laughing and talking with other guys, it feels like I’m losing my grip on something important. I don’t even know why it’s hitting me so hard now.”
Y/N’s eyes softened with empathy but her voice remained firm. “You need to separate your personal issues from your professional duties. This obsession is affecting our working relationship and your ability to do your job.”
Logan’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. “I get it. I know I’m crossing lines. I’m supposed to be professional, but these feelings... they’re like a fucking storm I can’t control. I haven’t felt anything like this in years. I’ve always kept my feelings in check, but with you... it’s different. It’s like I’m losing you every time you’re with someone else.”
Y/N’s frustration was tempered with a note of compassion. “Logan, you’re not losing me. But your jealousy and possessiveness are getting out of hand. It’s not fair to me or to you. We need to confront this head-on. If we don’t, it’s only going to get worse.”
Logan’s face was a mix of anger, regret, and confusion. “I don’t know how to handle this. I’ve never been this fucked up before. It’s like I’m trapped between wanting to keep you safe and being overwhelmed by my own feelings. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”
Y/N took a deep breath, her voice softening but her tone serious. “Logan, we both need to be honest here. Your feelings are clouding your judgment. And it’s affecting our relationship. We need to talk about boundaries and expectations, or this is just going to keep spiraling.”
Logan’s gaze met hers with a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “You’re right. We need to clear the air. I don’t want to be a fucking burden or let my emotions ruin everything we’ve worked for.”
Y/N’s eyes held a mixture of relief and determination. “Let’s tackle this head-on. We need to be clear about our boundaries and communicate openly. It’s important for both of us.”
Logan’s voice wavered slightly as he took a deep breath. “There’s something I’ve never told you before. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Not in a long time. I’ve always kept my emotions in check, especially with my... unique abilities. But with you, it’s different. I fucking care about you, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible. I don’t want to lose you.”
Y/N’s expression softened, a mix of surprise and emotion flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t realize... I mean, I’ve felt something too. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I guess... I care about you too, Logan. But we need to get through this mess if we’re going to have anything.”
Logan looked at her with a mixture of hope and apprehension. “I know. I just want to make things right. I want us to be able to work together and be... whatever this is between us. But we need to sort this out first.”
Y/N nodded, her gaze steady and warm. “We can work through this. But it’s going to take effort from both of us. Let’s be honest and clear about what we need from each other.”
The conversation left them both emotionally drained, the weight of their confession hanging heavily between them. But Logan’s struggles with jealousy and obsession didn’t end with that discussion. If anything, his behavior grew increasingly erratic.
One evening, Y/N was preparing for a dinner with a potential new client. Logan was supposed to be on duty, maintaining his usual professional distance, but his simmering jealousy soon erupted. Y/N, unaware of the storm brewing within him, was in the midst of selecting an outfit for the occasion.
Logan’s voice cut through the quiet of the apartment, sharp and tinged with frustration. “So, who’s this fucking client you’re meeting tonight?”
Y/N glanced at him, taken aback by his abrupt tone. “Just a potential client, Logan. Why does it matter?”
Logan’s jaw tightened as he paced the room. “It matters because you’re going out again. And every time you go out, I fucking worry. You don’t see the problem here?”
Y/N’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and irritation. “You’re seriously doing this again? This is a professional meeting. It’s part of my job. You can’t just flip out every time I leave the house.”
Logan’s frustration was barely contained. “It’s not just about you leaving. It’s about who you’re with, where you’re going. Every fucking time I see you with someone else, I lose my mind. I can’t stand it.”
Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. “Logan, this isn’t healthy. You’re crossing boundaries. I need you to understand that I’m not some possession you can control.”
Logan’s face flushed with anger, his voice rising. “Control? Fuck, Y/N, this isn’t about control. I care about you—more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And it’s tearing me apart to see you with other people. I fucking love you, but this shit is driving me insane!”
Y/N’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and exasperation. “You can’t just use ‘love’ as an excuse for this behavior. Your obsession is suffocating me. It’s not fair to me or to you. You need to get a fucking grip on yourself.”
Logan’s anger morphed into desperation. “I don’t know how to stop it. I can’t control these feelings. Every time you’re out with someone else, it feels like I’m losing you. I fucking hate it. I know it’s wrong, but it’s like I’m losing my fucking mind.”
Y/N’s expression softened slightly, though her frustration remained. “I get that you’re struggling, but your feelings are hurting both of us. You need to deal with your jealousy instead of letting it control you. This isn’t a healthy way to handle things.”
Logan’s voice broke with frustration and regret. “I know. I know it’s not right. I’m trying to fucking deal with it, but it’s hard. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible. But I can’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. It’s like I’m losing a part of myself.”
Y/N’s frustration was tempered by a note of compassion. “You need to find a way to manage these feelings, Logan. We can’t keep going like this. It’s eating away at us both. I need you to get help or find a way to handle this without letting it ruin everything.”
Logan’s shoulders slumped as he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ll try—fuck, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. But I need your help. I need us to work through this together.”
Y/N’s gaze held a mixture of relief and determination. “We can work through this. But it’s going to take effort from both of us. We need to be clear about what we need and establish boundaries. If we don’t, this will just keep spiraling.” Logan nodded, his expression a mix of hope and apprehension. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I just want us to be okay.”
----------------------------------
Logan’s behavior had hit a breaking point. It wasn’t just about his discomfort anymore; it was clear that his obsessive and controlling tendencies were wreaking havoc on both his professional effectiveness and his relationship with Y/N. The last straw came during an intense argument, which forced Logan to face the harsh reality of his situation. Y/N, frustrated and exhausted by his increasingly intrusive behavior, had finally pushed him to seek professional help.
Logan was hesitant. The thought of spilling his deepest insecurities to a stranger was daunting. But he knew something had to change. His first visit to Dr. Lee, the therapist Y/N had recommended, was marked by a palpable sense of dread. The office was a stark contrast to the chaos in Logan’s mind: soft lighting, calming colors, and comfortable seating created an environment that felt foreign to him.
Dr. Lee, a middle-aged woman with a welcoming smile, greeted Logan with a warm tone. “Hi, Logan. It’s good to meet you. Y/N told me a bit about why you’re here. Can you tell me what’s been going on?”
Logan sat down in the plush armchair, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, uh, I’m here because I’m really fucking up. I’m working as a bodyguard for this woman, Y/N. And lately, I’ve been way too overprotective. It’s messing up my work and screwing up my relationship with her.”
Dr. Lee nodded, her expression open and encouraging. “It sounds like you’re dealing with some complex emotions. What specifically has been troubling you about your interactions with Y/N?”
Logan’s frustration was evident in his voice. “It’s like I’m obsessing over her safety to the point where it’s consuming me. I can’t stand the idea of her being around other people, especially men. It drives me fucking crazy.”
Dr. Lee leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle yet probing. “It sounds like your feelings of jealousy and control are pretty intense. Have you noticed any specific triggers that make these feelings worse?”
Logan thought for a moment, his hands fidgeting. “Yeah, it’s mainly when I see her interacting with other guys, like at social events or when she’s working with them. I get this surge of anger and possessiveness, and I can’t manage it.”
Dr. Lee responded thoughtfully. “Jealousy and possessiveness often come from underlying insecurities or fears. Can you think of any past experiences that might be influencing how you feel now?”
Logan’s gaze grew distant as he reflected. “I’ve had some shitty relationships in the past. I guess I’ve always been scared of losing something valuable. Y/N means a lot to me, and I think my fear of losing her is driving these intense feelings.”
Dr. Lee nodded in understanding. “Past experiences can definitely shape our current behaviors. One approach we can take is to work on identifying and addressing these underlying insecurities. We’ll also explore strategies to help you manage your emotions and develop healthier relationship patterns.”
As the sessions continued, Dr. Lee used a mix of cognitive-behavioral therapy and mindfulness techniques. Each session began with a review of Logan’s recent experiences and emotions. Dr. Lee would then guide him through exercises designed to challenge and reframe his thought patterns.
During one session, Dr. Lee introduced a mindfulness exercise. “Logan, let’s try a mindfulness exercise to help you become more aware of your emotional triggers. I want you to close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Notice any sensations or thoughts that come up without judging them.”
Logan followed her instructions, his breathing slow and steady. Dr. Lee continued, “When a thought or feeling arises, acknowledge it and let it pass. This exercise helps you observe your emotions without letting them overwhelm you.”
After the exercise, Logan spoke with a sense of calm. “I can see how this might help me manage my reactions. It’s like I’m more aware of how my emotions are affecting me.”
Dr. Lee responded, “Mindfulness can be a powerful tool for recognizing and regulating emotions. Alongside this practice, we’ll work on developing strategies to address the insecurities that fuel your possessiveness.”
Y/N, meanwhile, was struggling to maintain her sense of autonomy. Logan’s intrusive behavior was causing her frustration, and she was working on setting clear boundaries. One evening, after a particularly tough day, she invited Logan to a café they both frequented. She hoped the neutral setting would facilitate a productive conversation.
As they sat down, Y/N looked at Logan, her expression a mix of determination and exhaustion. “Logan, we need to talk. I’m really struggling with your behavior. It’s affecting my work and my personal space.”
Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m fucking up. I’ve been seeing Dr. Lee, trying to deal with this shit. But I know it’s not enough. I need to hear it from you. What do you need from me?”
Y/N took a deep breath, her voice steady but firm. “I need you to respect my boundaries. You can’t control who I interact with or how I handle my work. You need to manage your emotions and stop letting them dictate your behavior.”
Logan’s voice was filled with regret. “I get it. I’m trying to deal with my feelings, but it’s fucking hard. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting.”
Y/N’s expression softened, though her frustration remained. “I appreciate that you’re trying, but it’s a two-way street. I need you to take concrete steps to address your behavior. It’s not just about saying sorry—it’s about making real changes.”
Logan nodded, his face a mix of hope and determination. “I’m committed to making changes. I want us to be okay. I’ll keep working with Dr. Lee and do whatever it takes to fix this.”
Y/N’s eyes held a note of resolve. “That’s a start. But we need to set clear boundaries and communicate openly. If we don’t, this situation will just keep spiraling.”
Logan’s shoulders slumped as he took a deep breath. “I understand. I’ll work on it. I just want to get things back on track. I care about you, and I don’t want my shit to ruin everything.” Y/N nodded, her gaze steady. “We can work through this. But it’s going to take effort from both of us. We need to be clear about what we need and stick to it.”
----------------------------------
As weeks went by, Logan’s commitment to managing his possessiveness began to show real results. The therapy sessions with Dr. Lee were making a noticeable difference. Logan was learning to handle his intense emotions better and to communicate more effectively with Y/N. The transformation wasn’t overnight, but it was significant enough for Y/N to notice the positive changes.
One evening, after a particularly successful week where Logan had navigated social events and professional responsibilities with newfound composure, they decided to celebrate with a quiet dinner at their favorite spot. The restaurant was cozy, with soft lighting and mellow music that set a relaxing mood.
Logan and Y/N settled into their booth, the ambience a stark contrast to the tension that once marked their interactions. Logan, usually so guarded, was now more relaxed, though there was still a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. As they enjoyed their meal, Logan took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice carrying a mix of sincerity and vulnerability, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I know I’ve been a total mess sometimes, but I’ve never been more sure about anything than how I feel about you. I’ve been working hard to get things right, and I want you to know that you mean the world to me.”
Y/N looked up from her plate, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? And what exactly does that mean, Mr. Brooding Bodyguard?”
Logan’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, but he grinned. “It means that despite all the chaos, I’m ready to make it official. I want you to be my girlfriend. I promise I’ll try to be less of a mess and more of the guy who makes you laugh.”
Y/N’s laughter rang out, light and genuine. “Well, I was starting to think you’d make me wait forever. I’ve actually been hoping you’d say something like this.”
Logan’s face lit up with relief and joy. “So, you’re saying yes?”
Y/N leaned in, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Yes, Logan. I’m saying yes. But just so you know, I’m holding you to that promise about being less of a mess.”
Logan’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll work on being the guy who makes you laugh and maybe the guy who gets to kiss you goodnight.”
Their conversation continued, filled with playful banter and flirtatious exchanges. Logan’s progress was evident not just in his words but in his actions. He had become more attuned to Y/N’s needs, more respectful of her boundaries, and more capable of managing his emotions. The following week was a whirlwind of events, each one showcasing Logan’s growth. At a networking event, he managed to maintain his composure even when Y/N had to work closely with a male colleague. Instead of the old pangs of jealousy, Logan was calm and supportive, offering encouragement rather than control.
Logan’s friends, who had witnessed his previous struggles, noticed the change. One evening, while hanging out with them, he was animated and relaxed, something they hadn’t seen in a long time. His friends joked about how they’d never seen him so chill before, and Logan laughed along, his newfound ease evident.
“Man, who are you and what have you done with the old Logan?” one of his friends teased.
Logan chuckled, a genuine smile on his face. “The old Logan’s still around, but he’s been getting some therapy and figuring his shit out. Things are looking up.”
Meanwhile, Y/N had started to see the positive impact of Logan’s efforts on her own sense of well-being. They spent more quality time together, enjoying each other’s company without the constant tension. Y/N felt more secure and appreciated, which only strengthened their bond.
One evening, after another successful week of navigating their evolving relationship, Y/N and Logan found themselves at their favorite café. Logan’s demeanor was relaxed and happy, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how far they had come.
“Logan, I’ve got to admit, I’m really proud of you,” Y/N said, her voice filled with warmth. “You’ve come a long way, and it’s making a huge difference.”
Logan grinned, reaching across the table to hold her hand. “Thanks, babe. I couldn’t have done it without you. Your support means everything.”
Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes reflecting a mixture of affection and admiration. “Well, I’m glad to be here for you. And I’m excited about where we’re headed.” Logan’s gaze softened, his expression serious but filled with hope. “I am too. I want us to keep moving forward together. I’ve been thinking a lot about us and where we’re headed. I know I’m not perfect, but I want to be with you. I want us to build something real.”
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How to Talk to Someone Who is Struggling⁣
It can be tough to talk to someone who is struggling with their mental health. We want our friends and family to feel comfortable reaching out to us, but most people aren’t actually sure how to react when that happens. I’ve heard a lot of people express fears that they might say the wrong thing or even make the situation worse. And that’s valid. It took a lot of training for me to learn how to talk to suicidal and depressed people, and they just don’t teach those skills in regular school. But having those skills can save lives. ⁣
So if you’ve got a struggling person in your life and you’re not sure how to talk to them, remember:⁣
Don’t be afraid of using the word ‘suicide’. It’s a harsh word, and a lot of people are scared that talking about it directly might push someone to do it. It won’t. Suicidal people are thinking about suicide in explicit terms all the time; hearing the word out loud isn’t any worse than the things they’ve already been thinking. Using euphemisms and beating around the bush just makes it hard to have an honest conversation. Be direct. Say exactly what you mean. Ask your loved ones if they are thinking about killing themselves. Say the word suicide. It’s hard, but it’s important.⁣
Don’t make the conversation all about you. It is really, really tempting to jump in and tell a struggling person all about your own struggles with mental health in order to empathize with them. Don’t do it. Not right away. You might mean well, but when you launch into your own mental health struggles, you are suddenly putting the other person in a position where they have to comfort and empathize with you, when it should be the other way around. They don’t have the energy for that right now. Let them talk about themselves first. ⁣
Don’t have an intense emotional reaction to what they’re saying. This is really, really hard, but it’s important. When someone is telling you about their self-harm or suicidal thoughts, try to keep your face and your voice as neutral as possible. Offer empathy in a calm, comforting way, and avoid crying in their presence if you can. They are watching you closely to see what’s okay and what’s not okay to disclose; if they see you getting upset at what they’re saying, they won’t want to talk about it anymore. And once again, it puts them in a position where they have to stop and comfort you. ⁣
Don’t say “I know exactly how you feel”. Because you don’t. And hearing statements like this, even if they’re well-meaning, can come across as dismissive or patronizing. Even if you’ve been in a very similar situation, you can’t really know what it feels like to be someone else, or feel the pain they feel. Instead of saying “I know what you’re going through”, validate their pain and say “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” - because you can’t. ⁣
Don’t ask “why” questions. Asking questions that start with “why” automatically puts people on the defensive. When you ask “why do you feel that way”, it makes people feel like they have to justify themselves to you. Instead, ask “what are some of the reasons you feel that way?” This is a much more non-judgmental way to phrase things, and it allows people to explain what’s going on without feeling like they’re on trial. ⁣
Don’t be afraid of silence. When someone tells you something really heavy, sometimes you just won’t know what to say. That’s okay. A lot of the time, distressed people aren’t looking for comforting words - they just need someone to sit there in their pain with them, by their side. Silences are a natural part of intense conversations, and they’re important. Let them happen. And sometimes, a long silence gives someone the space to say the things they were afraid to say before. ⁣
Don’t try to “fix” the problem. When someone comes to you with a problem - their partner dumped them, they lost their job, they’re broke - it can be really, really tempting to just start hurling solutions at them. We’ll sign you up for dating sites! We’ll spruce up your resume! We’ll make you a budget! If the person reaching out to you wanted that kind of help, they would ask for it. If they’re reaching out to talk about their problems, they aren’t looking for practical solutions right now - they don’t need you to fix it, they need you to listen to them, understand how much they’re hurting, and sit by them when they cry. ⁣
Validate their feelings. Distressed people often feel that their emotions are ridiculous, or that they don’t “deserve” to feel sad because they are better off in life than other people. Remind them that they have a right to their own feelings. Confirm that, yes, their situation sucks and it’s okay for them to be upset about it. Never confirm suicidal feelings, but do let them know that their sadness or anger or shame is okay to feel, and they have a right to feel it.⁣
Offer resources only if they are okay with it. Pelting a suicidal person with unwanted pamphlets isn’t helpful. Even if you know a great mental health resource in your area, it’s important to ask if the person even wants resources, or feels comfortable reaching out to a resource. Always check in with the person’s comfort after providing a resource, and ask if you can help them to be more comfortable accessing this resource. If you gave them the name of a local mental health clinic, ask if they would like you to call the clinic for them, or accompany them to the clinic - offer whatever help you can, but don’t push resources, and always check in with their needs and comfort. ⁣
These tips aren’t perfect, and they won’t necessarily work for everyone - they are a guideline to get you started, and to feel more confident approaching struggling family and friends. Having intense conversations about mental health or suicide with a loved one can be overwhelming, and many people don’t feel prepared to have these conversations, even if they want to. Do your best. Even if you make mistakes, showing someone that you honestly care about them and you’re making an effort to be there for them can make a world of difference. Having an imperfect conversation is better than no conversation at all. ⁣
If you’re still having doubts about your ability to have these conversations, remember that there are helpful videos online that you can learn from, and you can always call suicide hotlines to get tips and reassurance about approaching a loved one you’re concerned about. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter how you have this conversation - it matters that you have it.
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myloveismylevi · 7 months
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Just a lil weepy thinking about post-war dadvi, his little boy (5? 6?) wanting to make tea for his Dad the way he’s seen him do it a million times, because he just loves him so much and admires him and wants to make him the happiest Dad in the world, but he’s still so little compared to the world around him, so he pulls a chair over to the counter and climbs on it, putting water in the teapot, opening the canister of tea leaves, and pulling a teacup - Levi’s favorite teacup - out of the cabinet. but his hands are small, and when he tries to climb down from the chair the cup slips from his hand and breaks on the kitchen floor.
So, naturally Levi comes hurrying (as much as he can on his stiff knee) into the kitchen to see what produced the noise, and finds the chaos his little one has produced on the counter, and him, kneeling on the ground, with shards of porcelain in front of him. And when his father stands in the doorway, he looks up at him, tears collecting at his lash line.
“I’m sorry, Daddy…” he’ll whimper.
“What happened?” Levi’ll ask in his usual monotone voice, but there’s a softness behind it.
And the boy will try to explain, tears rolling down his face, feeling so awful for making a mess, and for breaking his Dad’s favorite cup, and for not being able to take care of Daddy the way Daddy takes care of him, because he’s got Levi’s same bleeding heart beating in his chest, the one that wants to take care, the one wants to be strong and independent. But also his introspection, his emotion, his sensitivity and empathy.
And Levi’ll be transported back to his own childhood, the teacup that belonged to his mom, the one that they had to sell, the one he tried to get back, but couldn’t. And his heart will ache so bad to think that his child, his sweet perfect angle of a thing, feels even a fraction of the hurt he felt over a piece of porcelain, because of his utter devotion to him.
And he’ll take the boy in his arms, and he’ll hold him close, and he’ll tell him patiently and gently, in his Levi way, that a cup is just a thing, and what matters most is that he wasn’t hurt. And how much he appreciates the boy wanting to do a nice thing for him, but that what he was doing was dangerous, and how important it is that he be more careful, because stoves are hot, and chairs can tip, and broken porcelain can cut one of his 10 miraculous sweet little fingers, and there are thousands of teacups to replace what broke but nothing in all of eternity could replace the boy, living and breathing, that he holds fast to his chest. (His voice is quiet, words grammatically simple, and his tone is steady but his heart is physically ACHING and flailing in his chest from how much love is trying to squeeze into it rn)
And Levi tells his son, in plain English (Eldian? Idk?), that he loves him, and that he always will, because with a tiny mind and heart at stake, there’s no room for beating around the bush with that talk like he often does. And he tells him that his parents will help him to do whatever he wants to do, and to ask for help next time.
Because if only someone’d told Levi, when he was that small, that they would help him. If someone has just loved him, and ALWAYS been there… how much easier he could’ve breathed all those years. The prospect of not having to constantly be afraid to feel. To fail.
It’s all he can think about - how he can do better, give more, than what he had - even in a moment as seemingly small as this.
(I’m sorry.)
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gunkreads · 2 months
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Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer is one of the best-written books I've ever read.
There's a feeling I get when reading stories that are plotted incredibly tightly. The best I can describe it is like working on a blacksmith's puzzle, where you have to hold four or five different pieces in place with just your two hands so you can slide them all apart (or back together). A really, really tightly-plotted book in the vein I love will require you to hold multiple themes, characters, settings, and plots up against each other constantly to make sense of the whole, and require you to constantly reassess the basic themes introduced at the start of the book whenever something new happens. Every element is placed deliberately, feeding the greater whole, but it takes some legwork from a reader to line everything up so that the whole thing makes sense.
So Annihilation does that, as you've guessed by now. It also does the thing I've found all my favorite speculative fiction does: it explores the two most important questions in life. Those questions are, of course, "What's wrong with me?" and "What the fuck is happening?"
These questions also follow the rule above, being completely inextricable from each other throughout the book. I'm not going to go into detail on the ways these two questions interlock, but I'll say that a first-person, technically-epistolary narration is a really efficient way to make the things wrong with your protagonist a driving force behind whatever the fuck's happening.
The diamond core of this book is the way Vandermeer fucks with you. He's not beating around the bush with it--he's fucking with you, the reader. Annihilation is a densely layered narrative, but the actual prose is also tuned as its own layer, adding a layer of tactful and tactical obfuscation between you and the actual story. The pacing of exposition is not arbitrary. I actually can't say more without spoiling.
I cannot recommend Annihilation highly enough. The fact that it's a one-sitting read only makes this recommendation stronger; like I said, it's dense, holding more in under 200 pages than some doorstoppers manage. I am going to go find the next two books and unhinge my brain like a snake to swallow them whole.
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shadowwolflady · 7 months
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Hatake Kakashi Headcanons
All right. It's time for some of my husband's headcanons. I consider Kakashi my husband. So I have to make some headcanons for him.
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Known
Birthday September 15th
Zodiac Virgo
Height 181 cm
Weight 67.5 kg
Blood type O
Hair color silver/gray
Eye color gray
Missions completed 1,141
197 D
190 C
414 B
298 A
42 S
Fighting
Jutsu: Tai and Nin
Kekkei: Sharingan
Hidden ability: Kamui
Style: Tracking/Assassination specialist
General
This man is an introvert.
Favorite colors: black, grey, green (neutral colors)
Reads Icha Icha in public
Work smarter not harder
Is late to things that aren't important
Sees KIA stone in morning
Appreciates his comrades more than he lets on
If you can't find him, he is reading or working out. Most likely reading.
If you REALLY can't find him, he is trying to hide and keep away from people.
He is straightforward and doesn't beat around the bush. Especially when it is something he likes.
Kakashi does smoke, only when extremely tired and stressed, like after a tough mission. Other than that, he won't smoke.
Will. Do. 400. Crunches. For. The. Fun. Of. It. Basically any kind of exercise for the hell of it.
His spacial awareness is insanely keen.
The moment he walks into a place or room, he already has a plan in case things go awry. He has an exit path separate from the front. He already has tabs on civilians and potential allies. On top of that, he already can sense those who have ill intent.
Plays dumb so he doesn't have to interact or get involved.
Has hyper focused on something and missed a conversation point.
Has fallen out of bed.
Has fallen asleep with his gear on. Basically face plant into his bed the moment he got home. And didn't wake up until 12 hours later to go to the bathroom.
He always throws up an aloof facade so he throws his opponents off. Acting bored or disinterested is the best way to rile up an opponent's anger, which can cause them to lose a fight.
Just the fact he shows up to something or for someone is a big deal. It means he supports them or it is important to him in a way, even if he is forced.
He gets really quiet and withdrawn when tired. Usually his book isn't even out by this point.
He gets more irritable when tired. He tries to keep his comments to himself and mouth shut.
Has massive respect for kunoichi. It isn't easy in the shinobi world and a woman has to be bad ass if they want to achieve recognition.
He is a stickler for teamwork and comradery.
He has a favorite tree he likes to sit in so he can watch over people while he reads.
He has sharp canines.
Food
Favorite food Miso with Eggplant with salt boiled saury
Can cook
Likes simple meals
Doesn't like sweets
More savory food
Fish, beef, chicken, pork. In that order.
Can handle most spices.
Fast eater
Least favorite anything fried or sweet
Drinks
Social drinker
Can hold his liquor
It is rare, but in the mornings he will have Coffee, Black
Tea
Water
Behavior
He is a gentleman, walks ladies home at night and makes sure his drunk friends get home.
He will get cats out of trees for civilians.
He will help the elderly with groceries.
Calm, cool, collected.
He is quiet and analytic, he likes to stay in the background and unnoticed. He will step in when he feels like no one will be able to handle the situation.
He is usually reading or day dreaming.
He usually speaks tactfully. But he does say what is on his mind.
Originally, he was strict and by the book. But after Obito's death, he became carefree and prioritized team safety over success of the mission.
He is reluctant to let anyone close to him. He fears losing them.
Modest about his abilities.
Senses
He has a heightened sense of smell and hearing.
He has a sensitive chakra network, able to pick up on people around him and distinguish friend and foe by their chakra signature.
Hygiene
Showers at night
Smells like sandalwood and timber, earthy undertone
He brushes his teeth with mint and mouthwash
He shaves every morning.
Comb? What's that? Maybe once a week or so.
Fighting Style
Kakashi uses a ton of kicks to keep opponents at bay from getting too close to him.
INSANE core strength.
Fluid movements.
Constantly adapting to the fight, changing grips and angles of attack.
Will use chakra as a last resort.
Will use Sharingan as the ultimate last resort.
Will prefer to knock out or render unable to move. Will terminate as a last resort or if opponent is known in bingo book.
Has dealt with bingo book individuals before.
He usually waits to strike.
His Anbu training takes over and he strikes fast and lethal over power.
Lots of his fighting is based off Gai.
Kakashi knows the strongest and most powerful muscles in the body are the legs, which is why he uses them.
Sleep
He tends to sleep on his back.
He will wind up on his side.
He is a light sleeper.
Has insomnia.
He does like to nap during the day. Usually in a tree or outside. But he has napped at home.
He sleeps with a kunai under his pillow.
If he can't sleep he will read.
If that doesn't work, he will go for a walk around the village.
He enjoys taking naps with his ninken.
Chakra
First chakra affinity is Lightning
Second is Earth
Can wield all elements due to sharingan
Mental
Has PTSD
Depression
Insomnia, hence naps.
DISSOCIATION
He will have night terrors to the point he will purposely walk around the village to avoid sleep.
Has scrubbed his skin to the point of bleeding so he could get the memory of blood off.
I will post more, but this is the general list I have for him.
My other list is for that when he is with my OC, Rai.
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He is so precious! He has my heart! I love him so much!
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olivyh · 2 years
Note
Fluff/crack hc
Dorm leaders get Kabedon by an S/O who didn't know they kabedon'd the Dorm leaders cus Yuu wanted to get their attention and say something they deemed important
A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Studying in another country is taking a lot more out of me than I thought it would, and I've been pretty drained of motivation ;;;;. Hopefully it gets better once I get more used to living here and used to being so far from my friends and family, but I'll see where it takes me! I do see all the requests and I'm very grateful for all your support and kind comments- they're all getting be through these times <<3333 I couldn't thank you all enough for your support and I'll get back into my groove soon I hope!
Riddle:
"-and as of right now, there are currently fifteen students who have told me that they will be unable to complete their tasks necessary for the upcoming unbirthday party which, unfortunately, means-" He rambled, shuffling the impressive amount of papers he was currently holding in his arms- all annotated and marked appropriately and according by date and subject. He was walking through the main hallway with the prefect after classes and was currently incredibly stressed about the events that had unfolded since he woke up. 
First, he had gotten several messages about things that had gone wrong yesterday due to a brutal storm that had run its way through his dorm overnight; consisting of ripped-up bushes, frightened animals, and overturned tables (not to mention the countless roses that had been plucked from their homes and thrown about the area). That was followed by multiple complaints about food being stolen from the kitchen (he was confident that the culprit was a certain red-headed card soldier who had been getting on his nerves day in and day out since his arrival at NRC). Following that, many students had told him that they were sick and unable to perform their duties for the day. 
Riddle felt as though his head was going to explode from stress, and he found himself rambling to the one person on campus who he felt was sane enough to understand his inner turmoil. 
"Riddle!" He gasped when his back met the cold stone wall and a hand was placed beside his head. All his worries seemed to be ripped away from him as his brain as the only thing he could focus on was the rapid thrumming of his heart beneath his uniform and how close his friend was. His mouth opened and closed for a moment as he felt his face heat up. He felt as though he couldn't breathe from the close proximity. 
"Finally," They sigh, leaning back and giving him some room to catch some much-needed air. "I was telling you that we passed the cafeteria. You mentioned that you didn't eat lunch."
"Right..." He mumbles, his voice much too small for his liking. They back away and, for a moment, Riddle wishes that those few moments of suffocation would last just a little bit longer. The more he reflects on it, the quicker his heart beats. His hands begin to tremble and he barely notices when more and a few papers slip from his grasp and fall to the floor. His face heats up once more and his breathing becomes erratic the more he looks at the prefect, the sensation becoming too intense before he finds himself stammering something about a text from Trey and running off, leaving the poor prefect in a confused daze behind him with only the echo of his heels clicking behind him.  
Leona:
He was currently trying to nap beneath the large canopy of a tree nestled deep within the botanical garden. The warmth of the sun seeped in through the vast windows that were cut in a way that decorated small patches of the ground around in the shades of the rainbow, highlighting the bright hues of the tropical flowers that he was surrounded by. He was skipping class again, as per usual, after having been victim to a three-hour-long call from his family. All he wanted to do was to rest in the small patch of grass that he'd claimed as his own and sleep until it was dinner- which wouldn't be for another five hours from then. 
He had found the most perfect spot- just hidden away from any prying eyes and surrounded by the scent of the nearby flowers, but not close enough to get sprayed by the water that would rain down when the sprinklers went off. He had just closed his eyes when he caught a familiar smell lurking in the bushes. 
"What do you want, herbivore?" He groans, peeking an eye open and squinting against the bright light. The human stands over him, hands on their hips as they cast a shadow over his form. 
"Ruggie sent me!" The beastman rolls his eyes and allows the opened one to slip closed once more. "Come on, Leona! You can't miss another class..."
"Why not?" He scoffs, rolling onto his side so he was facing away from them. He feels their hand land on his shoulder and tug lightly in an attempt to get him to look at them once more which, of course, fails. He can admire their determination in most situations, but in this kind of scenario, he can't help but feel annoyed at their insistence. 
"You have to graduate at some point!" Leona sighs and rolls over, making the human slip with a yelp that makes his eyes shoot wide open as he finds himself directly under the prefect. He smirks and tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters at their proximity. 
"Is this how you want to wake me up?" Leona chuckles. "You're awfully brave, stomping into the lion's den." He basks in their flustered expression before flipping the roles, successfully pushing them onto the dirt and laughing loudly at the way their face morphs into something much more intense than it was previously. 
"Leona..." Their quiet, flustered voice reaches his ears and he tilts his head, sitting back on his heels and allowing them to sit up, barely catching their embarrassed stammers and excuses before they run back into the gardens, disappearing between the bushes. 
He chuckles and leans back into the grass, finally able to take the nap he so desperately wished for. 
Azul:
He was currently hunched over his desk, well past the hours when he should have been showered and in bed. The rest of the Mostro Lounge was dead silent aside from the soft sounds of bubbles that emanated from the hallway and the occasional clink as he bumped into his glass of water, which bumped into the inkwell of his bonefish pen. The only other sounds that echoed throughout the room was the scratching of his pen and the occasional drawn-out sigh from the merman as he slaved away at his desk. 
His entire body ached and his eyes felt as though they were being weighed down with lead, but he had to finish the final budgeting for the lounge before dawn. If not, then he would be behind on all the other work that he had to get done- such as ordering supplies and creating menus for the next month and a half, as well as filing any reports for damages caused by rowdy guests or the notorious eel that would throw things when he had gotten into one of his moods or would draw on plates when he felt like it. 
He didn't even feel when he had dozed off, only knowing that he had blinked for a little too long before he was spun around and roughly jostled out of his dazed state. He blinks widely up at the person who currently had their hands on either side of his desk, effectively trapping him between them and the piece of furniture. Their proximity alone was enough to wake him up, leaving the mer feeling as though he'd just been plunged into the water of the Coral Sea. 
For a moment his mind was racing with thoughts about how he currently looked- he was sure that his glasses were askew (and likely smudged due to his slow, sleepy movements), his hair was probably a mess; sticking up out of his head in each and every direction, and his uniform was comprised of nothing more than his loosely buttoned white shirt and his untied bowtie that hung loosely over his shoulders. 
On the other hand, he couldn't focus on anything more than the little details he could never really see of the prefect- the way their lip juts out when they're nervous, the little lines in the corners of their eyes from when they smiled, and even the way their hair framed the face that he would watch day in and day out. 
Once his brain clicked, he scrambled for some sort of purchase, effectively tipping his chair back and making his head hit the desk with a thud as pain shot down his spine from the impact. He hit the ground with a groan before the prefect helped him up, walking with him back to his room to nurse his injury. He couldn't tell if his face was burning and his heart was constricting from embarrassment or affection, but he decided that he couldn't care either way. 
Kalim:
"But then we could find some new animals to add to the dorm! It would be fun, right?" The heir was currently trying to brainstorm ideas on how to make his dormmates seem less... drained. For the past couple of weeks, due to finals, he noticed how exhausted many of them were. His concern arose when some of them even turned down dinner in favor of studying or sleep. He wasn't exactly sure how he could help them, considering that the most he's been able to offer thus far was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, as well as festivals and parties (that many of the students also declined). He was at a loss for what to do until he decided to do some research, which lead him on a tangent in his room, late into the hours of the night. The windows were wide open, which allowed some moonlight to creep in and join the warm light of the magically-lit lanterns and the quiet music that played off his phone- now cast onto his bed and long forgotten in his whirlwind of planning. 
"I really don't think that animals would help much," The prefect sighed. That makes him stand still for a moment, sighing and casting a sad glance over to the former. He continues to pace, mumbling different ideas out loud and hoping that they would pick up on at least a little bit of what he was saying. Before he knows it, he's yelling excitedly and practically skipping around his spacious room, hands flailing as he jabbers about possible plans to improve his dormmates' wellbeing. He doesn't even notice when the prefect begins to call his name. 
"But if it doesn't work, then what?" He finishes, taking a deep breath to look over at them. He takes notice of the concerned look on their face, his energy instantly dissipating as he rushes to their side. "What's wrong? You look sad..." 
"I'm not sad, Kali. I'm just a little worried. You're not responsible for everyone's happiness," They explain and Kalim feels his heart shatter as confusion clouds his brain. 
"I'm..." He pauses and smiles, letting out a short, silent laugh. "I'm a dorm leader! I have to!" 
He gasps when he feels himself trapped suddenly against his wardrobe, cutting off his train of thought roughly as he sucks in a deep breath. 
"What are you...?"
"So you'll finally listen to what I'm saying!" 
He nods and tries to ignore the feeling in the back of his mind that begs him to squirm. He has been close to the prefect before, yes, but never for a long enough period of time. He'd only done it to help them learn how to do the dances of his hometown, or when he would clean up with them (or attempt to, at least). But this felt completely different from all those times before...
"I'm... listening," He breathes softly after a long pause, making his friend back away for a moment. In that split second, he desperately wishes that he could be as smooth as the princes in all the fairytales he'd grown up reading and pull them back, fighting back the urge to get closer to them once more. 
Vil:
"In just a moment," Vil murmured, leaning in closer to the mirror that sat at his desk. The lights would have been blinding if thy hadn't reflected off his light violet eyes so brightly and highlighted each and every product that he layered on his perfect skin. He had a meeting in just an hour, and he was already running behind schedule. His dearest friend, the prefect, was currently lounging on his bed, sprawled out and scrolling on their phone while he focused on perfecting his makeup for the undoubtedly long and boring few hours he had ahead of him. 
"Vil-" They whined loudly and, in the corner of his eye, he could watch them dramatically throw their arms in the air and flopping them beside their head as they look into his eyes from the background. 
"It won't be long, I promise!"
"Nonsense," He sighs. He couldn't deny that he was hungry and, normally, he was practical about his eating schedule. He ate three square meals, and carried around a healthy snack for if he felt as though he needed something extra to get him through the day. Today, however, he had skipped lunch due to rehearsal, and he was certainly feeling the effects now. He could always ignore this and opt to eat at a later time, perhaps once the meeting was over and he could grab something quick from a nearby restaurant. 
He turned to face them, only to notice that they were hovering over him and had slammed their hands on his desk loudly, startling him slightly as he jolted. He was surprised, if he was being honest- he wasn't expecting this type of reaction to come from the sweet, sweet prefect. 
He sighs, looking up at them with an eyebrow quirked and a small smile on his face as he observes their annoyed expression, before watching as that expression shifts from annoyance to realization to embarrassment. 
"Are these the lengths you're truly willing to go to?" He chuckles, determined to turn the tables. He leans in, enjoying the way the prefect seems caught like a deer in headlights. He leans back and goes back to his makeup, making eye contact with them in the mirror and smiling once more. "Nevertheless, you'll have to wait."
He can barely catch their groan filled with disbelief and annoyance before he continues on his work. 
Idia:
"But if I log in for the rest of the week, I should still be at the top of the charts, right? But then, my next problem would be that I hadn't grinded for enough lucky stars yet!" Idia was currently pacing in his room, ranting to his newfound friend as they sat on his bed, listening to his problems eagerly as he carried on. "If I log in, I'll be caught up, but not caught up enough to get the new SSR+ that everyone else probably already has!" He throws his hands up in the air, noticing how, out of the corner of his eye, his firey hair lit up the room in shades of amber as he got more and more worked up. "I mean, how unfair is that? I have to go to school! They prob don't even have to do that or dorm leader stuff, so that's exactly how they got ahead of me! Which sucks!" 
"Idia..."
"I mean, I've been playing this game since the release and suddenly all these Magicam normies suddenly get the sneak on me because they just joined? I'm glad the fanbase is growing but I mean come on!"
"Idia!"
"And then they're completely mischaracterizing them! Like, absolutely butchering the characters! Shadow isn't all gloomy all the time- he actually has a soft spot for his teammates which is so cool and also such a big thing for them to ignore!"
"Idia Shroud!"
"And I saw on Magicam that they were completely ignoring the plot and the character development- like, in Blade's SSR+ that was released last year, she clearly mentions the main plot and how much it changed her as a person! And people still have the audacity to ignore her!" He was pacing more quickly now, rambling so quickly that he already felt his mouth going dry. The headphones around his neck blasted the ambient music from the paused game on his PC, but he could care less after seeing one particular post that got him worked up. 
He felt himself getting pushed to the wall as he stared down at the prefect in shock, his hair turning a bright crimson as his face went a similar shade. He stammered for a moment before biting his lip to shut himself up, feeling the way his heart hammered in his chest and made his head dizzy as the world around him spun. 
He was being kabedon-ed. 
Just like in all his shows. 
"Th-this-"
"I asked if you wanted something to eat," He could only muster a nod before he gulps, biting his lip once more as he gasps for air and his knees go weak. "Idia."
"How did I-," He murmurs, suddenly feeling faint. "-get this route?" Idia whispered the last word as he felt his entire body go limp as he passed out. 
Malleus:
He had been more than fortunate to have made such a close friend- one he can call his first in his very long life thus far. As of recently, however, he'd noticed that his affections had become more than simple friendship- the seeds have been planted within the cold thorn walls of his heart and had begun to blossom into fragrant roses that constricted his chest and dominated his every waking thought. More often than not, he had been able to surpass this feeling that had consumed him, placing on his mask of contentedness whenever they would look his way wearing the smile that would make his heart melt and the fireflies that would often surround him fly a little faster in bright yellow streaks against his pale skin and ivory hair that framed his narrow face. 
Now had been one of those moments. They were currently exploring the forest around campus, and Malleus finally had the opportunity to show the prefect a small meadow hidden just outside of the sports field- a bustling meadow, filled with wildflowers that sprouted out of the ground and painted the scenery in all the colors of the rainbow and insects buzzing from flower to flower contentedly. He cast a longing glance over to the human, smiling softly at their awed expression- mouth hanging open as their eyes were so wide he could practically see the entire meadow reflected against their irises. 
He had wished so desperately to capture this moment in a little bubble, to place it upon a pedestal in his treasure room and gaze at it whenever the nights seem to be too long. Oh, how he wished he could hold their face in his own hands and that the chill of his skin wouldn't give them a shock. He longed to live with them in this meadow- perhaps run far away from his life of nobility to do just that. 
He could practically feel it- the warmth of the sun against his face and the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders as they forage for berries- perhaps they would even take a small nap among the flower fae living in the area, only to wake at sunset and move to make a warm meal together in the small kitchen of their cottage. 
Suddenly, he's trapped between a small tree with the human in question practically pinning him against it. His eyes widen for a moment as his mind freezes, struggling to understand the sudden proximity. 
"Mal-" Before they could finish their sentence, he had vanished in a cloud of fireflies, leaving the concerned human dazed and alone in the middle of the field. 
From that point onwards, Malleus was forced to endure Lilia's incessant teasing about his reaction.
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