#and now I need to get dressed and go do shit
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I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.
Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.
Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”
That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.
“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.
I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”
I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.
“Sure?”
“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”
“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”
“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”
So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.
They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,
“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”
“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.
“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.
“Not anymore.”
“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”
I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.
“This is a dream,” he informed me.
“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”
“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”
“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”
“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”
“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”
“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”
“You’re job...”
“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”
And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.
First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”
And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.
Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*
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maybes and sunscreen
college!sukuna masterlist
after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.
either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.
"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.
"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.
"and?" geto asks, confused.
"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.
"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.
"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."
geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.
"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.
"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?
suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.
“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.
sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.
“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.
“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.
“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.
“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”
“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.
“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.
“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.
“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.
“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.
“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.
“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.
"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.
"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.
"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.
"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.
"maybe."
#college au#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk fics#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic
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Entry 3 – The One About That Guy, That Girl, and the Dragon
I’m just going to jump right on my magical pixie pony for this one – because why the fuck not? But, I promise this speculation has a foundation of fact. So, there’s that.
On Sunday, November 10, 2024 – seemingly out of nowhere – Zoe McConnell posted to her IG stories a picture of Nicola from a photoshoot from November 2022. Yes, you read that right – 2022. Zoe reposted this to her stories exactly two years from the day she first posted it to her grid.
Why?
Uh, happy anniversary to the picture? [feel free to scratch your head in confusion because I sure as shit did – but only for a second]
Who cares about a photoshoot from 2022?
And, don’t even get me started on the weird ass suggestion this was a push for Nicola to win – what bullshit award show is up next? – People’s Choice Awards. Actually, do get me started on that because that theory just makes my eyes roll. The only connection I see here is that the dress Nicola is wearing was from her 2022 Glamour Awards appearance. What exactly does that have to do with People’s Choice? Nothing.
Now, forget all about that shit and keep reading.
What IS interesting about this post from Zoe is that, if you’re a certain creator or anyone who has ever read this certain creator’s timeline, you’d know that this picture is referenced in said timeline (P.S. My disclaimer today is that I am not a fan of said creator but that doesn’t negate the information she has distributed to the masses).
Here’s what happened two years ago:
On November 9, 2022, Nicola posted one of Zoe’s images to her own grid, thanking Glamour for her award. Luke liked this post.
On that same day, Nicola posted a second set of pictures from that same photoshoot. Luke did not like that post.
The following day, November 10, 2022, Zoe posted one of those additional pictures to her own grid. Luke liked that post from Zoe’s grid. But, he did not go back and like Nicola’s second grid post from the day before. Why? Why go to Zoe's grid instead of Nicola's to like the pictures? I could speculate on this for the next eight minutes but I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.
So, this past Sunday, Zoe posts to her stories a link to that November 10, 2022 grid post that Luke liked. Nicola reposted Zoe’s story to her own IG stories. If you’re a Nicola fan, I can probably guess what you're going to do next. You’re going to click on Nicola’s story – which takes you to Zoe’s page – and when you click on Zoe’s stories – it takes you to the original November 10, 2022 post, which Luke liked at that time.
Odd, that.
And, by “odd,” I mean odd in the fact that no one cares about a two-year-old picture. I mean, really, who fucking cares? Except Lukolas who see Luke’s like on the original post.
Let’s keep moving.
On November 11, 2024, Zoe was right back at it. She posted to her IG stories another picture of Nicola from the same photoshoot. This time it was the one Zoe originally posted back on November 11, 2022. Yay, another anniversary. Zoe put a cutesy little caption that read: “Princess Peach.” Nicola did not reshare this story. I mean, at this point, we’re all watching Zoe, right? No need to reshare because our Lukola interest has been peaked, in my opinion.
Then, a few hours after Zoe’s post, Rachell Smith, also a photographer, posted an old picture of Luke to her grid. This picture isn’t as old as Zoe’s but it does go back to May 2024. Rachell follows it up with an IG story of the same image with the song, “Lifting You” by Jungle. Take a moment and go look up the lyrics and meaning of that song. Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just tell you. The song is about being deeply committed and doing whatever is needed to make a relationship work (this, per Mr. Google). Rachell’s caption? “[O]ur knight and shining [Luke].”
Well, fuckety fuck fuck fuck.
We have a princess and we have a knight.
Interesting.
I mean, we grew up with this idea that the knight in shining armor saved the princess, right?
To be honest, yesterday, I had no clue what that was all about (and I really didn't care -- the seas have been rough for the USS Lukola lately) so I went about my day like normal.
But, this morning, the wheels and cogs in my head started working together.
I wondered how that ever came about – the idea that a knight saved a princess.
So, I asked Mr. Google: “Where did the story about a knight rescuing a princess originate?”
Okay, yeah, I see Perseus and Andromeda…and in Western culture….Saint George and the Dragon…
Wait --
What?
Saint George and the Dragon?
Nope. Not possible.
But, I was certain it was.
I scurried over to Tiktok to find the post I’d seen a few months earlier about the medallion Luke wore for a long time – the one Nicola allegedly gave him. The TT creator believed that the necklace depicted none other than Saint George and the Dragon! Now, I must add that this has never been confirmed but the TT creator did make a fairly convincing argument for it. This is also the necklace Luke was allegedly wearing in the “Polin” picture that was released simultaneously by Nicola and Luke on October 21, 2024 (based on the chain of the necklace he was wearing).
Delulu?
Yeah, maybe.
But, we also can’t make this shit up.
#lukola#nicola coughlan#luke newton#speculation only#my opinion#my thoughts#we can't make this shit up
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•+*Forevers a long time*+•
Vi (arcane) x reader [angst-> comfort kinda..]
synopsis: Vi visits your new home before her big mission..
SEASON 2 SPOILERS KINDA!!!!
This is hard; fathoming the possibility that this may be the last time she sees you, its hard.
Vi tries her best to put up her brave walls again but when she hears your breath getting caught in your throat she realizes that its pointless "H-Hey this isn't goodbye" she says while haphazardly wiping your tears, trying to wipe her own as well, she knows that she might be lying, but for your sake she cant believe that too.
"B--But--" you start "No, I will come back, not in a box, okay?" she tries to reassure you through her shaky words wrapping her arms around you to bring you down "Vi d--don't even say that don't say that I wasn't trying to bring it up but--" hic "You cant leave, no, not right now, everything was going good before the explosion, you cant" you ramble on about how you two where finally gonna have a good life together, how her impatient self waited so long to get out of Stillwater to have a good life with you and now this? She quickly shuts you up with a soft kiss to bring you down.
"Hey--Hey Y/n breathe, breath Lovebug" she attempts to calm you down by tracing shapes into your side and kissing your cheeks, something that always works "I know, I don't like waiting for anything and we finally got here, but to make sure we keep everything we worked for I have to go, its only gonna be for a week ok and the---" you cut her off "Yeah a week where you might die!" she sighs, your right, your almost always right "Yeah, I know" she starts, pausing her motion for a split second, contemplating her life "Lovebug, you gotta understand that even if I do die, its for the greater cause, plus you know Cait, she doesn't miss, and you know me! I don't miss.. well most of the time" she chuckles while planting kisses all over your face and hairline.
When she finally gets you too stop crying she holds your hand "Tell you what.." she starts "When I come back, I'll get you that pretty promise ring you always wanted hm?" your mouth runs dry "Really Vi..?" you ask while your face flushes red "mhm' really, then I'll be yours forever, well until I really propose" she looks into your eyes, the color soothes her, it always does. You shake your head while smiling sadly "Well m' gonna hold it to you Vi, forever's a long time and I need you for that so you better come back" you say bittersweetly, still coping with the idea that your girlfriend might not come back.
"I want you to pinky promise that you'll come back Violet" 'Oh shit', she thinks you used her real name, She smiles and holds up her pinky “If I don't come back I want you too cut my pinky off for the funeral" she jokes as you interlock your fingers and lock it in with your thumbs "M' serious Vi, I need you here.. a lot of us do" you smile shyly "yeah I know" she says with a cocky smirk
Afterwards you two headed to bed and had hot and sad sesbian lex
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The day after you where a mess.
You got dressed and got her ready to go "Go get her Vi, I'm sorry that its her that you have to get.." you say sadly, reminiscing on the times you and Vi hung out with powder, the times that you wanted the small girl to cherish. "She's gone Y/n, m' sorry but she is, I think I'll be ok." she takes a deep breath, realizing that in a way she's become something she never wanted to be "I know, just, be careful.." You say while admiring your tall girlfriend in the mirror thinking its weird how she's wearing the enforcer uniform, then you hear Caitlyn's knock at the door.
"I guess this is it then.." she starts but you quickly shut her down "No, we where sad yesterday, today your gonna go be the only cool ass enforcer and your gonna get her. Then your gonna come back to me like you promised" You say, determined to lighten the mood, She quickly pulls you into a deep kiss, its a goodbye kiss you know it is, but it doesn't matter to you anymore.
"Bye--Bye Vi, I'll hold up the fort while your gone"
"Bye Lovebug, I'll see you in a week"
you watch them as they leave, Vi looking back too see if you where still looking as many times as she can to make sure she can remember your face.
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A/n
Season 2 brings me so much sorrow I made a playlist :(
This was supposed to be like Japanese Denim by Daniel Ceaser but it didnt really come through, I'll def make a fic based off of it more in the future though.
also why is there a Vi fanfic drought????, someone pls send me some, not alot of smut tho because there is so much.
#b lossm#vi x reader#vi fluff#vi angst#arcane x reader#Arcane vi x reader#wlw#vi x y/n#vi x you#violet arcane#violet arcane x reader
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Summary: As Vox's personal Physician it's always been a challenge to get him to take care of himself. Your motives originally may have been professional, but the line started to blend somewhere along the way. Now you're determined to get him to listen.
Pairing: GN!Reader x Vox
Contents: Mostly self-indulgent fluff. Bashful Vox, Doctor Reader, Assertive Reader, Reader has Glasses, Kissing, Lots of Flirting and Banter, Vox is a dork, Vox has freckles he hides
Word Count: 8k
A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree for her Follower contest! Please accept my humble Vox fluff. As for my followers, keep an eye out for tomorrow's Imagine for a very special message from The Heart of a Machine's Vox!
“You need to cut down on your caffeine consumption. Not only are you hopelessly addicted, but your quality of sleep is suffering as a result.” The tests had been taken again, and again, and again at your boss’ request. As a professional, you had standards. You weren’t going to let something as stubborn masculine machismo bother you. But the results on your medical chart had been almost completely static. The metallic nub of your pen rapped against the clipboard over the offending results that kept staring you back in the face.
Vox was hunched over on the examination table, refusing to face you. Already slipping on the buttons of his dress shirt.
“I didn’t say that the examination was over sir.” You reminded him, pressing up the glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.
The artificial glow of that screen finally turned to greet you. The artificial smile he had was so kind to constantly parade in your presence, as obnoxious as always. “I am well aware, but I am saying it’s over. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
A challenge to your ability. A bold one too. There were few doctors knowledgeable enough in both machinery and biology. Fewer fanatical enough to learn the harmonious weaving inside your employer so you found the accusation funny. All but a single, “Ha” came out in a scoff.
Sparks of electricity crackled from Vox’s antennae, and the large crimson pools narrowed into squints. “And what’s so funny Doc?”
“You are Darling. If you wanted to get rid of me, we both know you would have long ago.” You curled your lips in a smirk, a clear defiance of your boss. With only half of his buttons slipped through, he gave up on the rest and rose to his feet. Long legs made quick strides over to you to make a direct challenge. Even when he stood nearly a foot over you, you didn’t feel intimidated in the least. You dropped the clipboard over to the counter, meeting his gaze defiantly, but cooly.
A foot stepped between your legs, and his body came close. You took a step back only for the sake of your balance, then another until he had your back against a wall. His hands pinned you in place while the eerie glow of his screen only grew more intense. There was a false cheer in Vox’s voice even as his smile never dropped.
“You’re cute, Doc. You’ve made yourself valuable, so you’re right. I give you a lot more slack than I would tolerate from anyone else in this worthless shit heap. However…” He pried one hand free to clap around your jaw. Holding you in place when the bladed end of his thumb pressed against your cheek, drawing a bead of blood from the pinpoint. A directed threat, no doubt to remind you that he could kill you at any time.
But he hasn’t.
“More people are falling to hell every day, you won’t be so unique forever.”
“So you admit that I’m one of the few who do know what they’re doing. So, can I count on you cutting down your coffee consumption down to three cups a day?”
His chest rose and fell as the energy left him. Vox pulled his hand away and returned to fixing up the buttons on his shirt. Turning his back to you to fetch the sweater vest thrown over the table, slipping it on next. A zipper on the side turned out to be the secret around putting on clothes when your head was a large television. Having a tailor right in the tower must be quite useful. “I can do the coffee. However, I don’t have time to sleep the full six hours you are recommending.”
“Daily.” You remind him.
He spun back around, uttering a scoff as his hands slipped through each sleeve of his blazer. The pointed cyan claws slid across the lapels. “Daily?! Now you’re just being ridiculous Doc.”
“Have I been known to tell you jokes, Vox?” You lifted a brow.
“Yes, actually. You make jokes about how stupid half of my employees are all the time. The other half you have creative insults about how brutish, boring, or pathetic they are. I’m starting to think you don’t like anyone in the tower...” Vox raised both his brows, sporting that smarmy little grin.
“Because I don’t, save a few exceptions.” You answered. “I’m not paid to like people. I’m paid to keep you healthy.” You pushed off the wall, seating yourself in the single office chair that had been afforded for the office. The leather squeaked with the new weight, wheels shifting from the sudden weight that had you barreling toward your coffee cup. You draped one leg over the other, pressing your back against the chair while you gave your boss your undivided attention.
The cyan eyes rolled within the crimson pools. At last, his bow tie was tied around his neck perfecting the image of the business CEO. Almost a shame how quick he always was to put his clothes back on. The technological and biological nature of his body was a near obsession of yours; even if you never admitted it.
“Is the friendship-making package extra?”
You raised your shoulders in answer. You hooked your fingers around the mug on the desk with your cup of coffee. The irony of it after telling him to cut his consumption didn’t bother you. “Do you want me to make friends Vox? I don’t see how that would benefit you at all.”
“It won’t.” He admitted as he walked by. The chair was sent backward as his claws laid hands on it, forcing you to make eye contact when he lingered from behind. “Only wondering how much I pay you goes into pretending to like me.”
You couldn’t help but break out into more laughter. The sight of which earned a sultry frown and a retraction of the hand that had come so close to him. You caught your glasses, preventing them from careening off your face. “You don’t pay me anything for that sir, you’re one of the few people in hell I do like.”
“You have a weird way of showing it… telling me to take care of myself.” He chuffed, shooting a nasty glare at the coffee in your hands. Unaffected, you took a sip. He could cope.
“I know, I’m a trailblazer. Do you need me to prescribe you sleeping pills or do you think you can handle it?”
Vox laughed, “Doctor, please! I can do something as simple as fall asleep! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Even if you couldn’t see it, you could almost feel that eye roll looking at the back of his head. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with that curt goodbye.
Vox, however, never listened to his doctor. Even IF you were always right. It was a hunch as you were finishing up writing up samples for the night. But the thought came to mind to check on your boss to see if he was heeding your well-intentioned advice. Your employee keycard gave you generous access, only beneath the Vee’s who could go everywhere. So it wasn’t any trouble stopping by that ridiculous office of his.
He was seated before a mural of monitors depicting snapshots of the lives all across Pentagram City. Wires were currently plugged into the back of Vox’s head, absorbed in his… information-gathering activities. Vox was completely unaware of your presence. You breathed a heavy sigh, resigning to the fact that you once again had to get this man to take care of himself. You passed through the bridge without fear, where the circling shark tanks beneath spoke of a deadly fall several floors down. Such a waste of space for an aesthetic. Your polished shoes smacked into the back of the chair, startling the Overlord within.
Arcs of electricity shot out from all angles. Coating the chair and his body as the wires all unplugged from their ports one by one and the frantic man spun around with an intense swirl in his right eye. The claws extended, drawing gouges in the rests beside him. All the fight in him sputtered out the instant he caught sight of you, painted over with annoyance.
“Doc! I did not call for you. What are you doing here?”
With your arms folded across your chest, you answered. “Coming to catch you red-handed. You should be sleeping.”
“Shouldn’t you?” He fired back, hunching low.
Touche, but you wouldn’t admit it. You pushed up the frame of your glasses before you answered.
“It’s not my fault the help I have in the lab is so incompetent. I can’t trust them to do something as simple as label specimens. It would be a terrible safety risk if I left it to them. If anything, I am a hero of Voxtek.”
Vox laughed, leaning back into his chair. It was genuine laughter, unlike that dorky evil cackle he thought nobody ever heard when he was alone. A palm smacked his thigh, with a crooked grin sliding heavy to the right of his screen. “Sounds like we’re both guilty, Doctor. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Tell who exactly?” You asked, striding up to the man. You sat on one of his thighs spread so wide it was practically an invitation. The overlord stiffened, digging his claws back into the plastic armrest, staring a hole at you. “What darling? There aren’t any other chairs and you wouldn’t have me stand the whole time would you?”
“No, I just didn’t expect you to try and seduce me.” He answered.
“Ah? And why do you think I am trying to seduce you?” You sent the question back to him, easing until your back pressed against the rest. You threw one leg over the other, balancing yourself by clutching the armrest. Your fingers only brushed against the cyan claws and he instantly yanked them out of reach.
“Oh, do you sit in any man’s lap then? And here I thought I was special.”
“I don’t like most people, Vox. You are special.”
Unexpectedly, the words brought a strange light blue glow to Vox’s face. He was just as shocked as you were, throwing an arm to cover the strange color in his face. There was an attempt to hide it as his face turned away, but he didn’t throw you off so you took that as a victory.
“What do you want?”
“For you to go to bed darling, that should be obvious.”
When he lowered the arm, you could see a deep frown on his display. The technicolor eyes bore into yours, locking you in eye contact trying to force the truth from you. A common tactic as most couldn’t lie while maintaining eye contact. But you were telling the truth so you made yourself comfortable admiring the view until the silence made him give up. With a sigh, he put his hand on your back and forced you back to your feet.
“Alright, I’ll go to bed, Doctor.” Vox shoved you off, forcing you back to your feet. He refused to even touch you, only lurching forward until you were forced to either catch yourself or fall. With a low grumble, you fixed your coat, keeping well away from the ledge.
Vox took two steps toward the bridge when he stopped and turned to look at you. “Do you flirt with all your patients?”
“Well darling, considering that you are my only patient? Yes.”
Vox chuffed, hooking a thumb forcefully into his pocket. The back of the TV greeted you, shoulders rolling as he weighed your answer. “And before I hired you, how many of your patients did you hit on?”
A single digit tapped your chin, which meant thinking back to something that hardly mattered. How often you satisfy your urges shouldn’t matter to your boss. But for the sake of this flirting to keep going you obliged. “Only the hot ones darling. I jump the bones of the ones I want nothing to do with besides their dick. But I take my time with the ones I really like.”
More electricity danced from his antennae. To busy his hands, Vox tugged and pulled at his bowtie. There was a joyful lilt in his tone as he answered, “Interesting. Good night Doctor.”
“Good night, Vox.” You followed right behind him, smiling with satisfaction. You felt happy that you finally got him to see reason, even if it meant flirting a little.
Or so you thought.
The next day, you decided to make another visit to his office to check if he went to bed on time. He was still plugged into the system, in the early hours of the morning. A little more flirting and back and forth was just as effective.
And the next day. There he was far more cold, not passing the buck back to you. But when you tried to excuse yourself, he’d find some excuse to make you stay for a minute or two longer.
And the next day too! Each time conning you into spending a little extra time with him. At first, it was only fifteen minutes. Then half an hour, and then you ended up lingering for a WHOLE hour. That was when you realized that if this got any worse, YOUR work would suffer.
Now that? That was unforgivable.
At this point, you suspected he was doing this on purpose. When you came charging down the bridge that evening, he was already spinning in place to greet you. You were expected. The bastard. The plugs in the back of his head popped free. Vox spun around in time to greet you with a wide smirk on his screen that faltered when his chair ended up swerving a little too far to the right. A heel smacked against the floor, giving him friction to push him back.
“You saw nothing,” Vox said.
“Pretty sure I did, you are up late. Again.”
“I slept yesterday. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Vox bent forward in his chair, looking smug. He was intentionally trying to rile you up now. You didn’t even attempt to hide your sigh. You glanced over to the monitors, still the same old surveillance for the most part. But there was one screen that stood out. The man was on Veddit. You adjusted your glasses to get a better look. Upon closer look, it was some subveddit asking advice about how to tell when somebody has a crush on you.
He was so pathetic it was endearing sometimes. His eyes followed yours, doing a double take when he noticed what you were looking at and smacked the console turning all the monitors off. Vox’s voice came out filtered as he attempted to sound assertive. “That’s classified company information. Nothing you are meant to be privy to Doctor. I’ll have to fire you if you keep looking.”
“I didn’t know relationship advice was sensitive company data. Are you having trouble with men, Vox?”
A faint blue light covered Vox’s screen beneath his eyes, his cyan pupils unable to meet you. Teeth clenched, his fingers rapped loudly against the armrests of his chair. You kept silent, watching him stew under the uncomfortable silence. His knee began to bounce, his fingertips clacking against the hard plastic until at last he groaned and rolled his eyes. “No! I could have anyone I wanted in Pentagram City in my bed by the end of tomorrow night if I wanted.”
Laughter spilled before you could help it. The sound inspired a swirl from his right eye, and another tense clutch of his claws gouging his chair. “What’s so funny?”
“You darling. You’re adorable.”
The color on his face grew more intense, as did his frown. He made some incoherent mumbling you couldn’t quite understand, but you were pretty sure at least one of those was an insult.
“How about a bet then, Darling? Whoever can bring a new partner into their bed first wins? If I win, you promise to go to bed no later than 1 AM. And if you win…” You sucked through your teeth, watching as his screen grew even more pale. A cyan claw nervously wove around the bow tie on his neck.
“If I win, you’re all mine for an evening,” Vox interjected.
Now there was a surprise, so he could take the lead. The man was already pushing himself up to his feet, stretching his back as he rose to his full height. “It’s about time I remind you who you work for.” Now he was compensating, with that blustering smile and the way he pulled on his lapels.
“Then it is settled! You can have an entire evening to see if you can make me as obedient as the rest of your employees.” You agreed. Unknown to Vox, you already had a plan that secured your victory. But you let him stew in the joy of his deal a little longer. The way his smile took up half his screen was endearing.
A pointed end met your chin as he forced you to look at him, the harsh artificial light shining a little too close for comfort. “I’ll make you sing for me, Doc. Though you are right… I’d almost miss your backbone. Almost.”
The screen was coming in close, dangerously so. With nowhere to go with that claw currently suck in your chin, you brushed away the mood with a question. “Would my magnanimous boss be willing to walk me home? Things have been rather dangerous in my neighborhood lately.”
Suspicion immediately colored his expression, with arcs of lightning dancing along his frame. Vox whipped his hand away, standing ramrod straight. “Didn’t you want me to go to bed? Trying to get a head start on me Doc?”
You coyly tilted your head. “No? If you’re that worried about that I can get somebody else to walk me. I’m pretty sure I could easily get Papermint to--”
A metallic claw smacked your shoulder, pointed ends digging into your flesh as a strained smile greeted you. Vox’s laughter came out deeply filtered. “That won’t be necessary! That man couldn’t defend you from a paper bag. I’ll be winning our little wager before the night ends, as I said. So I’ll gladly see you home and asleep while I take my victory.”
The pinprick stung, but it was a kind of pain that sent a shiver down your spine. Your hand laid over his, feeling the cool skin beneath for only a second before he yanked it away.
That was now the second time he yanked his hand from yours. Curious.
“Not if you are sleep-deprived, Vox. Come on then, it’s a bit of a walk through a bad neighborhood so I hope you aren’t too fond of your shoes.” You spun around first, taking the lead down the bridge. The larger overlord quickly strode over to catch up to you, refusing to let you guide him. Hands behind his back, he continued to stare at you from the corner of his screen, and he was terribly obvious.
“What is it darling?” You asked.
“...Can you stop calling me that?”
“What, darling?”
There was an uneasy shifting as he pushed out his pockets. The electronic door hissed open when the two of you approached by the proximity of the Overlord alone. The two of you took a turn down the hallways, empty and feeling almost haunted at these early hours.
“Yes.”
By how short the answer was, you suspected he wasn’t going to give you a reason why. As confident and blustering the man could be, there were always these little nuggets of insecurity that oozed. He was overcompensating. For most people, they wouldn’t bother to look any deeper. People were far more inclined to see what they wanted to see or to ignore anything that would be far too bothersome to address. A fact Vox relied on far too much.
Because you took an undeniable interest in this man. You knew his body better than anyone as his doctor. Knew how his heart was nothing but to ease his body dysmorphia. How he regulated his heat, how viruses affected his body, and how a simple cold could still lay him low. Initially, you wanted nothing more than to tear him open and learn everything but lately… you wanted to solve the riddle behind the little things. Such as why he wouldn’t let you touch his hand. Or why his screen always got a little brighter when you entered the room.
But if you pushed somebody too hard who didn’t want to be known, you risked pushing them away. This would require a delicate touch.
“Very well, I will have to call you something special then.”
There was another flash of static as Vox pushed the call elevator button. The repeated shifting of his cyan irises was so obvious you had to hide your smile underneath your palm pretending to hide a cough.
“Like what? Voxxy?”
“Voxxy is cute...” You admitted with a shrug, “But that’s not special. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of exes call you that.”
Fragmentation flashed over this screen at that moment, the crimson pools almost comically large in his screen. The ding of the elevator was his saving grace, striding in quickly to save face. “I’ll let you know if you pick something unique then.”
Unique. Most people would likely pick something with his name or his head. Picture Box, Plasma, Sparky. In the silence of the elevator, you leaned against the wall and considered it. A nickname for you alone to call him. Vox joined you. Leaning against the wall almost close enough to touch but you knew better than to reach out and chance him pulling his hand away a third time.
“Dove.”You suggested.
“That’s… uh--” Vox let out a breathy chuckle. “Quite an old-fashioned nickname don’t you think? I think people stopped using that decades ago.”
“Do you dislike it…?”
Claws settled on the rail behind him, clicking against the bare metal. Each metallic noise sent shivers up your spine, seeing them so close but out of reach.
“I don’t dislike it, no. I’m not quite so nostalgic as half of Hell seems to be, but I can appreciate the effort.” The rare gentle smile on his screen was a sort you’d never seen before. Not the fabricated nonsense to disarm viewers or the manic joy when he was doing something comically evil.
Ping
The elevator came to a sudden halt as it hit the first floor. You stepped out first, with your boss lagging shortly behind. Thanks to how early in the morning it was, the two of you weren’t especially bothered by employees or gawking pedestrians. Hell in the early evenings was often when you could find the worst of it. Drunkards, people stabbed in the middle of the streets, demons locked in heat fucking in any half-discreet location they could find. It was a place of sin and debauchery and everyone happily indulged. Vox was a wary individual you learned from watching him.
Despite being one of the most powerful men in the Pride Ring he constantly watched the streets looking for threats. Occasionally he would catch you looking at him, blush, and look away. After the third or fourth time, he scoffed and tugged on his collar.
“Why do you keep staring at me like that? Actually- WHY are you flirting with me so blatantly? Are you trying to get a promotion?”
“Can I be promoted from your personal physician?”
“No.”
“Then the only reason is because I like you.”
There was a question of why, obvious by the way he looked at you full of confusion. “I… wasn’t expecting such an honest answer.”
You laughed. “This is hell Dove, there’s nothing to be gained by being shy. Somebody else might try to sink their claws into you first and I don’t like to lose.”
“Your wager seems counter-intuitive to your goal.” Vox rolled his eyes. Yet at the same time, he was reaching out to you. His claws bumped against your fingertips for only a fraction of a second. They were cold and sharp to the touch, but having conquered the wall put a pep in your step.
“On the contrary, I believe it’s proven quite effective. You are taking me home so another man doesn’t.”
“I-Wait, were you manipulating me?!”
You laughed again, hiding your great smile behind your hand. “I was! But you manipulate all of hell daily so I think you’ve lost all right to hold that against me.”
Vox stopped, narrowing his great big eyes. “I could leave right now, or did you account for that in your plan too?”
“Mmn, no I had planned to drag you into my bed tonight.”
A bright blue blush flashed over the man’s screen, his arm rising to try and hide it. Sparks and electricity danced between each prong. “I--! That’s not what we bet on!”
“No? The bed was to drag a new partner into our beds tonight. I’ve never been with you, so you count Dove.”
Still masking his face, Vox was now wavering, looking behind him as he tried to determine whether to foil your plot now or fall prey to it. Even this game of indecision was fun to watch. He sucked through his teeth, tapping his foot against the concrete.
“Doesn’t telling me your plan ruin your chances?”
“No, to my experience telling a man point blank you want them is far more effective than being shy about it. Am I wrong?” You flashed a smile full of teeth. “Of course, it also has a chance to backfire and make them so nervous they run. But I don’t believe you aren’t quite that timid.”
“Tch, hardly. Fine.” His claw clamped around your wrist. Cold, awkward, and grating against your bone it wasn’t quite what you imagined. You had a strong suspicion it was that exact reason that made him so hesitant to touch you before. He dragged you forward, but after you reached the end of the street he realized that he had no idea where he was taking you. When he looked at you for help, you laughed. As predicted, he sulked.
“Sorry, sorry! You are just so cute! We’re almost there. It’s that apartment over there.” You pointed straight ahead to a sleek modern apartment. It was one of the nicer buildings in the Entertainment district, one of Voxtek’s provided housing. The familiar V on the building clued Vox in.
The walk became closer to a power walk as he took you into your apartment. Having to at least concede to let you lead to take him to your apartment on the third floor, fourth door down the hall. He was deathly silent watching you unlock the door, following behind you as quietly as a mouse inside. That same nervous jitters returned to the usually powerful and confident CEO as he found himself in a strange apartment that wasn’t his own. Perhaps he expected you to jump his bones immediately but you instead took off your shoes, and lab coat, and made your way inside.
“Would you like tea, Dove? Sleepy-time tea ought to help you fall asleep.”
“Fall… asleep?” Vox asked. All the wind in his sails had fluttered out, baffled by the turn of events.
“Yes darling, what did you think I was taking you to my bed for? You are up past your bedtime.” You didn’t even attempt to hide the smug smile on your face, so instead you focused on filling a kettle and setting it on the stove.
“I--- You tricked me!”
“Indeed I did. Are you upset?”
To your surprise, he wasn't. He was deathly silent, standing in the hallway lost, unsure of what was going on. A claw hooked around his bow tie, untying it to make himself comfortable. Next came off the blazer, and then the top hat left on the coat rack by the door. Normally meant only to contain your coat, it added a touch of domesticity to see your coat have a partner. The blue and white looked nice. Could only hope the two of you would meld just as harmoniously. Vox sat down at your dining room table, taking a look around your abode.
“I’ve never been dragged into somebody's place to only sleep with them before. You’re… an odd one Doc.”
“I’ve been told.” You answered in a sing-song tone, preparing the tea cups. A packet of sleepy-time tea tucked into each porcelain cup with saucers meant to carry a touch of your personality. “I like you too much to bed you this early.”
“I-- don’t get that. If you like me, doesn’t that mean I’d already be inside you, fucking you on your kitchen counter?” Vox scoffed, rapping his nails against the table. The kettle hissed with steam when the water was ready. After laying down the teacups and saucers you popped the kettle off the stove and poured into each cup. Joining your boss from the chair directly across from him.
“Come now, isn’t that how courtship used to work? A man would get to know a woman, and show her that he really liked her for her and not just her body. It’s like that Dove. Now, I would love to unwrap you but I’m more curious to know the man you are. Like-- why don’t you like it when I touch your hand?”
Vox twitched, pulling his hand immediately off the table, suddenly self-conscious. “Who said I don’t like you touching my hand sweetheart?” He forced that fake smile of his, taking a friendly artificial tone.
“Because you keep pulling it away whenever I touch it.”
The smile fell, and his eyes fell toward the amber liquid in the cup. He lifted the cup, testing to see if it had enough time to steep. It had not even been a minute, so all he tasted was hot water. He set the cup down, feeling bitter. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Then you don’t have to. But I want to know.”
The chair skid back, with your boss leaning forward. “Let’s… forget this getting-to-know-me bullshit Sweetheart. It’s stupid, this is hell. I can fuck you until your eyes roll into the back of your head and forget this whimsy of yours Doc. You're my employee. Nothing more.”
You set your chin on the nest of your overlaid hands, matching his eyes. You pushed a little too hard. “No, you’re getting your sleep whether you like it or not. If we have to sit here in silence, I’m making sure you get the sleep you need, Vox.”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Vox’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. Waiting three minutes for tea to steep felt like an eternity to him. “A secret for a secret Doc. I’ll tell you why, but in return, you need to tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.” An accusatory finger jut your way.
“Do you want to get to know me too, Dove?” Unafraid, you coyly tilted your head. Vox opened his mouth to respond, shut it, and turned his screen.
“...Yes. I’ve never had somebody care this much for my health or try to get to know me. You’re weird, but not in a… bad way I guess. I’m not saying-- you’ll ever be more to me than an employee-- don’t get the wrong idea.” He quickly interjected his point. But the shuffling in his chair and the way he weighed his words so heavily you were liking your chances. “But I like talking to you Doc.”
“Well...” You began, skidding your foot against the floor. “I was once madly and deeply in love with a man before. I was utterly, completely besotted in a way I bet you never would have expected. I wrote and sang him poetry. Spent many evenings dancing with him by candlelight, and had disgustingly kinky sex in public spaces. But my favorites were always the nights when he’d be gentle with me like I was the most precious thing in all worlds.”
Vox’s mouth hung open and then shut. A fresh shade of color danced across his screen at the bold confession “You’re… right. I have a hard time believing that. You’re the last person I imagined being a romantic.”
You sputtered a laugh. “Right? I was surprised too. Have you ever been in love like that before?”
“I’m not answering that question.” He immediately shut you down. “I don’t like you touching my hands because… most people are scared of them. They hurt, they’re cold, they aren’t nice to hold at all. They’re great, don’t get me wrong! When I need to get people in line they’re a fantastic tool for intimidation. But well, we’re demons. I’m not… built for intimacy. Inside or out.” Voxmotioned over his body with the aforementioned hands.
“They’re beautiful hands though, Vox. When you grabbed my wrist it hurt a little but it wasn’t a bad pain. They’re more than worth it for you.”
The familiar blush returned, coming with such a vengeance you swore you saw some white pixels mixed in within the blush. Like a nebula reflected on his screen, little imperfections that made him look endlessly beautiful. “Noted. So, what happened to that guy? You wouldn’t be bothering with me if he was still in your life.”
“We were… incompatible. There’s a piece of me that’s broken beyond repair inside that made me fundamentally wrong for him. It wasn’t his fault or mine. Closer to mine I suppose, since I cannot quiet the demon inside me that threatens to tear my guts out raw from envy.” The memory came bitterly, mostly because it came with a realization that even for the man you loved most you couldn’t be fixed.
A cyan claw hooked through the handle, with Vox sipping his tea. He had grown deathly silent, draining the cup until it was down to its dregs all in one. It hit the saucer with a clatter. “You should drink your tea doctor.”
Silently you obliged, taking more reserved sips. Truthfully you didn’t need it as much as he did. Habit and a circadian rhythm did wonders in getting your body trained for sleep. But for the sake of calming your nerves, taking this man to your bed where you would not take his clothes off felt oddly more intimate than taking them off. The heel of his shoes clicked multiple times against the floor, Vox was completely incapable of sitting still. At one point he even got up, walking around your apartment.
“Doc? Where’s your bathroom?”
“Back near the entrance Dove. To your right.”
“Thank you.” He disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You could hear the faucet running shortly after. While he took care of his business you finished your tea and washed the dishes. He was already out by the time you put the kettle in the sink.
“So, do you have anything for me to sleep in?”
“Mmm, I have a shirt of my exes if that works that should fit you. But I don’t have any bottoms. You’ll be fine in your underwear won’t you?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I’m fine to sleep naked. As long as that shirt doesn’t have you know whose face on it.”
“Of course not Dove, I would not tolerate merchandise of anyone who believes technology should have stopped in the thirties. That goes against everything I believe in.” You flippantly waved your hand as if you could hardly entertain the idea. To your surprise, Vox’s screen illuminated with light, with a big genuine toothy smile on his face.
“I changed my mind, I might be able to make an exception for you.”
“Of course Vox, it was only a matter of time before you saw my charm! Now… come on.”
Even if you were a Doctor who didn’t need a man or woman, you loved having a large bed to lounge in taking up nearly your entire room. You had your knick-knacks and other decorative items. A bookshelf of medical textbooks lined against the back of the bed for those late nights reading. Laundry piled up a little higher than you would have liked when you were bringing a boy over. A disturbing little skeleton you named Mr. Bones sitting on your computer desk. Diagrams and telltale signs of countless nights hunched over a desk. Signs of the passion of whatever gripped your mind and forced quill to meet paper.
Vox was obvious in the way he took in the various objects in your bedroom. His interest in getting to know you seemed genuine. You fished out the old shirt from your ex, which was a harmless plain white buccaneer shirt. You could see the confusion on his face when he was handed it, but you said nothing.
You grabbed your pajamas and disappeared into the master bathroom to change. Leaving Vox the whole bedroom to change. When you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror, you could spy a faint color present on your cheeks. Sure, maybe you could act cool and confident. But the truth was, you did like this man. Otherwise, why else would you go to all this trouble for him?
All your feigned confidence but you took care that your hair looked nice when you brushed it. You picked out your favorite pair of pajamas. You brushed your teeth and put on only a little spritz of perfume, as your heart beat with anticipation and hope.
Vox was already laid out on top of the bed, waiting for you. His monitor raised to look at you when you opened the door, propping his body halfway up with his elbows. “Huh, you did simply change into your pajamas. Was half expecting you to change your mind and pick out something sexy.”
“We can save that for after you’ve taken me to dinner, Dove.” A laughter followed after your statement, a friendly one. You stepped over to your nightstand to hit the switch next to a strange black and white orb. Vox did arch a brow, but his gentle smile remained.
“I’ll think about it.” The overlord fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. That was perfect timing!
After you hit the light switch, the room was submerged in darkness. The purpose of the strange device on your nightstand became obvious when Vox spied the star system being projected over the ceiling. Creating a fabrication of the starry night sky that had been robbed from the two of you when death came. Vox’s right claw stretched out, reaching his hand out as if he could grasp the slowly rotating stars. The illumination of his screen slowly died until it became a dim pale blue light.
You crawled into bed opposite of him. Laying on your side with your arm tucked under the pillow to act as extra leverage while you watch the man beside you enjoy the sight above.
“You REALLY are a romantic. I’m expecting roses when you take me to dinner.” Vox joked.
“I’ll consider it. So, what makes you say that?”
“I may have had my hints when you told me you wanted to wait for sex. And oh I don’t know, The night light and nickname? You are aware of what Dove means right?”
Vox rolled onto his side, using the pillow as a gentle cushion for his screen. Normally looking right into a bright blue light wasn’t the best idea when you were trying to sleep. But the sight of that gentle smile on his face felt like it was going to lead you to some nice dreams. “Of course I do. And you were intentionally staying up late so I’d come and see you. I think you’re secretly a romantic too, Vox.”
The familiar blue flush dazzled his screen, something even pulling the blanket over to try and hide it couldn’t help with. The way his face glowed made the proof even more apparent when he only tried to mask it in darkness. “Nonsense. I’m just a machine.”
The statement came out in a half-whisper. By the way, his eyes widened at that moment, you suspected he had not meant to be that honest. A scowl took the place of his smile, and he fell back onto his back to hide his face from you. You didn’t let him run. You pushed yourself up and sat beside him, staring down at the screen that tried its best to watch the wavering astral movements above.
“You’re not a machine, Dove. And I would know that more than anyone, save yourself. Machines aren’t lonely for one.”
“I’m not lonely...” Vox bitterly retorted.
You stretched your hands out for his screen. He leaned back into the pillow, setting his cyan irises on you immediately. With your fingertips only inches apart, you met those eyes without moving an inch more.
“Do you not want me to touch you?”
“What good is touching me there? I can’t even feel it, you know.”
“Because it always makes me happy when somebody simply touches me without expectation of sex. Makes me feel beautiful.”
A complicated expression flashed over the screen. Alternating between vulnerability, a scowl, the widened sclera, and at last acceptance. His hand laid over yours and guided it to brush and trace over the hard plastic that housed his screen. The cool hand lingered on top of your palm, guiding your hand up toward where his prongs stuck out on top of his head. Following his lead your fingertips brushed along the metal prongs, then circled the receivers on the top.
“Maybe… I’m a little lonely.” He begrudgingly confessed.
Something cold suddenly brushed against your cheek, intense thanks to the heat that made a home there. The back of Vox’s claws brushed over your face, and you leaned into it. His palm filled the swell of your cheek, the harsh points nestled into the hair to cushion their prick. The thumb stretched out to tap your bottom lip, tracing the shape.
Slowly the two dark silhouettes you both cast on the wall came together melting into one. Vox guided you forward as his own body bent forward to meet you halfway. Shortly after you closed your eyes, the gentle sensation of his lips finally met yours. The edged fingers slid along the nape of your neck, sending chills down your spine while he held you. Entangling his fingers within your hair to hold you in place. Chaste and sweet, it was only a light brushing as he whispered to you.
“Your right doc… this is nice. I want to touch you more, may I?” Each little new syllable brought that ticklish feeling back, tingling with the natural static on his face. You sealed your lips against him, drinking deep from what he’d been teasing you with all this time.
“As long as the clothes stay on Dove.”
“Of course. This is nice… I don’t want it to end.” The confession came with the feel of his palm now brushing over your shoulder. Tracing down your arm until his fingers circled the wrist that had kept you supported all this time. He tugged you forward until your body fell on top of his. It was harder than the average man’s body and less cushy. The heat of your body was sapped even through the two layers of clothing, but it only gave him an excuse to wrap that blanket around the two of you.
You righted yourself until you laid flat across his body, with his arms coming around to circle your back. You buried your head into his chest, taking in his scent, wrapping your arms around his torso as you surrendered to his touch. The pointed end of one claw ran up and down your back, sending shivers down your body each time it came to meet the nape of your neck. It wasn’t a sexually thrilling sensation, but it was pleasant enough to eke out a moan. Instead of excitement, the man underneath you chuckled. Vox ran his claws through your hair instead, scratching your scalp.
“Why don’t you like to be called Darling?” You dared the question, feeling closer than ever now that the two of you were touching. The sound of his artificial heart beating against his chest and into your ear felt nothing like the machine he purported himself as. Nor was the careful way he touched you. You could feel its absence far more when his hands froze. You dared to look up, and you could see the heartbreak reflected in his eyes alone.
“It reminds me of somebody else, a man I’d rather not think of when I’m with you Doc.”
“I’d never want you to look like that when you think of me… so I will endeavor to be nothing like him, Dove.”
Vox smiled, curling a claw around a lock of your hair to brush out of your face. “And even if you are broken, I will make you feel whole one day Doc.”
Now that was unfair. How dare the vulnerability you share with him be used against you! You fought back the emotions that welled up, the brush of his hands bringing you back down against his chest made you feel like it’d be alright.
“We should get some sleep. But I want to keep holding you if that’s O.K.”
You leaned forward, kissing him goodnight. Vox kept you there for a moment longer, squeezing your shoulder. The other hand pressed against the arch of your back to press your body against his. Each little brush of those lips against yours felt addicting. Making you want to keep diving in back for more. Sometimes it was crooked, other times he’d steal your breath and keep you there. It was only the need for air that forced you two to part. A flushed face stared back at you with the beautiful nebula of freckles returned in full force.
You didn’t want to part, much as the sirens call for sleep called for you. You pressed your fingertips against his screen right beneath his eyes. Tracing each little freckle to make constellations with them. Vox closed his eyes, accepting your touch this time. The gentle wavering of his cyan irises watching you stole your breath. If only you could stay up all night and kiss each little star on his face.
But all good things had to come to an end. Vox pressed against your shoulders to force you to lie down. His own body came hovering over yours for a brief few beautiful moments, the starry sky above him framing behind him.
“You’re blushing so hard right now, Doc.”
A squeak escaped you, pressing a hand against your now hot cheeks. Gentle laughter broke out from the man above.
“You’re so cute… I can’t wait to see how red you get when I bed you for real.” The whisper of that promise came with a claw tracing along your jawline.
“When…? You sound so certain.” The blood rushing to your head made it hard to come up with a snappier comeback than that.
“Because I have already decided. I intend to win you over with everything I have. Goodnight, Doc.”
He fell back back onto the bed, lying on his side. Immediately wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer until your back was held flush against his front. Vox locked you tight so you couldn’t escape, the warm screen pressed into the back of your head.
“Goodnight Vox...”
Cursed with those beautiful thoughts Vox put in your head, your cheeks burned. The bittersweet pain in your heart gave you such contentment you were quickly pulled down past the point of no return. The gentle whir of Vox’s white noise banished the chaos of hell, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#vox x you#vox x reader#vox the tv demon#vox#hazbin hotel vox#I fell for the tv
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Mean! Rafe with pogue! Reader when she regresses like how is he? Is he gentle? Does he tease? Those kinds of things, thank you xx
I got you!
I loooove writing headcanons.🫶🏻
Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, controlling behavior, manipulation, slight abuse.
– He would probably first met you when you would visit his sister. He knew that you were one of the Pogues, but it wasn’t what he found interesting about you.
– Your behavior wasn’t usual for a Pogue. You were quiet, shy and somewhat childish. Somehow he didn’t found you as annoying as the rest of them, he enjoyed observing you quietly, analyzing your behavior.
– Rafe won’t admit his interest in you to anyone, especially not to his sister, always making snarky comments about you when talking to her.
– „What is she, a five year old?”
– He wouldn’t mind saying things like that to your face, laughing when you will give him a pouty face, that he would secretly find adorable.
– „What was that, little girl? Too sensitive to handle a small tease?"
– But when he would first saw you in the fight that his friends started with Pogues, he would push you to the side, holding you in his hands, so you won’t get hurt. He would find a lot of excuses about that later, when his friends would confront him about being soft to the Pogue.
– Rafe would probably give you a little smirks every time he would see you at his house or somewhere else.
– When he would find out that you are regressed, he would wait for the perfect opportunity to ask Sarah to babysit you for her, and when that opportunity will come, he would make sure that there’s only you and him in the house. He would also make sure that this would be the last time you were talking to Sarah.
– „You know, I’m not like your friends, kid. I actually care about your well-being.”
– He would play with your mind, making you actually believe everything he said.
– „Baby, you’re too precious to think about that Pogue’s shit. Just let me take care of you, alright?"
– Soon enough, the brave Pogue girl will become daddy’s little doll.
– „No one will take care of you better than I do, baby.”
– He would make sure that you are way too eager for his attention and affection to actually leave, or even think about going back to the Pogues.
– Rafe would teach you manners, watching as you slowly turn into the true Kook, because he would be damned if he would let his baby’s brain being stuffed with that Pogue’s bullshit.
– He would dress you himself, adoring your little pink outfits and small ribbons in your hair, that he would braid himself.
– Everytime you would ask to see your friends he would just change his manner to the cold one, and watching as you slowly forgetting about wanting to see them, now crying because of lack of affection.
– „I told you baby, I don’t want you around your friends no more, they are bad influence. Let’s just go to the Topper’s house, yeah?”
– You won’t say „no”, because you know that there will be consequences for you.
– He won’t be using physical punishments. He would just left you alone when you will need him the most, waiting for you to come begging for forgiveness, hoping for at least crumps of his love.
– His favorite words are „yes, Daddy”.
– Rafe wouldn’t hesitate beating the shit out of the Pogues right in front of your eyes, if they would try and talk to you.
– When you will start crying because of the shock he would just hold you close, being much gentler than he usually was.
– „Daddy just wanted to protect you, baby”.
– You would never question his actions, because „Daddy always knows better”.
– Always.
#obx#rafe cameron x reader#dark!rafe cameron#little!reader#age regression fic#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#headcanon
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The Loyal Pin - Episode 15
Before I actually began this recap, let me just bask in Patricia freaking the hell out when Kuea's pregnant wife, who she was warned about, actually shows up to the wedding she forced onto Pin.
Well it if isn't the consequences to your dumb ass actions, Patricia!
LOOK AT HER!
Oh shit! And now Pin has passed the hell out! I knew a girl in high school who would pass out whenever she got in trouble, and we all thought it was a medical condition at first, but one time, she passed out on the band field during morning practice, yet fell in such a way that her flute didn't get damaged, and the entire band spread that news like wildfire, so I, a kid who would NEVER be caught dead near the band hall, heard about it by second period, and homegirl was roasted accordingly in fourth period Stats when someone told her to pass out before the test so we could get out of taking it but to make sure not to damage her the calculator. Point is - Pin is band girl. This is triflin' behavior. This is not a medical condition.
And Prik is just rubbing salt in her wounds. "Anin was fighting all the way until the bitter end for your love, but once she realized you were still going to marry a man who had a whole ass pregnant wife, she decided to go to the beach instead of attending your dumb wedding"
I really disliked Aon at the start of this show, but now her faces with Anin on this beach trip are amazing because Anin is going through it, and Aon is just like, "You wanna put some cucumbers on your eyes since you've been crying so much." She is helping, but also judging, and I like that.
This is what a true ally looks like. Shit was going DOWN in his palace, and all he could think about was telling his sister.
Take notes, Anon! Ya sloppy!
Look how happy a Blue Beauty is when her girlfriend's wedding is stopped by the pregnant woman nobody would believe existed. She is smiling for love. I'm smiling for spite.
And Pin is wearing Anin's color as she, too, looks up at the sky. Glad Prik's little guilt trip worked.
PENELOPE, NO! NOT AGAIN, GIRL!
Okay, existential crisis Barbie. Quit being so damn dramatic.
Penelope planned to go through with that wedding, yet is acting all sad because Anin didn't immediately rush back to her. BARBARA! YOU'RE DOING TOO MUCH, SIS!
And now Patricia is wearing Pin's color to show she cares. You know what would show she cares? Her actually apologizing TO PIN! Her saying "sorry I fucked up and told you to die" or something like that. Doesn't haven't to be those exact words, but anything would be better than the NOTHING she is doing right now.
Penelope always has a dream about Anin leaving her or DYING, and even in her dreams, Penelope is too damn dramatic. ¡Cálmate, güey!
Wait. Is this green or orange? Someone needs to get the colorist on the phone because night time does not make a dress an entirely different color!
But the entire scene is beautiful, so the colorist made some decisions, and I cannot say they were bad decisions.
Anin laughing while Penelope is in pain is food for my petty soul.
Because Penelope is too smart to be this dumb! How did she not realize that Anin was upset that she was marrying a man and moving that man into her palace? Anin TOLD her that, but did she think Anin was joking? WTF, girl. Shut that pretty mouth of yours. I've heard enough stupidity come out of those beautiful lips for a lifetime.
Now Anin is laughing at Penelope in the house! Thank goodness because Penelope is still wildin' with these ridiculous questions! She knows nothing happened between Anin and these other women because she HEARD Anin crying about her MARRYING A MAN, yet has the audacity to pout. Penelope, just pass out again, so we can stop hearing you say irrational shit.
Anin is wiping her down with a blue towel *wink* but the green/orange dress is throwing me for a loop, so I cannot properly enjoy this.
For two chicks that just got back together after shit hit the fan when their relationship was exposed, they do not have any sense of self-preservation. Standing out on the balcony hugging each other after having sex is a choice. The wrong one.
WHY IS ANIN APOLOGIZING TO PATRICIA?! And why hasn't Patricia apologized to Pin?! And why is Anin still wearing green?! She is not a Green Girl! There is nothing chill about Anin!
There is one episode left and I need Patricia to apologize to Pin and for Anin to wear pink for her Pink Person because Pin is struggling with her color still. Quit playing with my emotions, show!
This mama is scared. She has me convinced that the closet is better than telling the dad. I'd listen to her, but Anin would never because she has no chill; therefore, she is not a Green Girl. GET THAT COLOR OUTTA HERE!
At long last, we have made it to the final boss. I don't play video games, but if this is anything like Kirby, shit's about to get messy!
But I know all will end well since Anin still has to wear pink to solidify her love for Pin.
Or this really will be the final stage of Kirby.
Pink. On Body. NOW!
#the loyal pin#the colors mean things#color coded girls in love#episode fifteen#I hate Patricia#and I'm pissed at Pin#but I love this show#kuea was defeated#patricia has been humbled#so now it's time for the final boss#AND FOR ANIN TO WEAR PINK!
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What It Cost
****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***
Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.
Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?
CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!
Part 5 - Noah
Noah laid there in his bed, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. The only sound in the room the old videos he kept watching. It was all that kept him going when sobriety got to be a little too difficult. And right now, it was hard as fuck. Until the other night nobody outside of his therapist had known just how much he despised himself for the shit he had put Lilith through in the end. And now he had gone and blurted it out like a fucking idiot. Such a fucking idiot. So, rather than relapse he was going to watch these old videos as many times as it took until the anxiety passed.
Listening to her laughter, seeing the way her eyes crinkled just a bit at the corners when she smiled, in and of itself was its own form of mental torture, but God, did it help keep the urge to drink away. A reminder of what life was like before the one or two drinks every so often turned into three or four most nights of the week. Then getting blackout drunk most nights of the week. Soon it was steady drinking from the moment he woke up until he passed out later that night. Rinse and repeat.
"Noah, I swear to all that is unholy. If you don't stop recording me right now I'm cutting your hair in your sleep!"
Noah chuckled to himself as Lilly in the video stopped doing her hair to run from him, laughing uncontrollably at his feeble attempt to stop her without dropping his phone. He had been obsessed with recording every moment with her when he wasn't on tour. Some excuse of watching them when he missed her, which he did do, but honestly it was because he just couldn't get enough of her. Even when they bickered he hated not being near her, always finding a reason just be around her while she tried to ignore his presence. Which she inevitably failed at, every time. Because as much as she refused to admit it at first, she needed to be near him just as much as he did her. Once upon a time, anyway.
Heaving a weary sigh he scrolled to the next video, immediately being greeted by her and Danny dressing up a skeleton Halloween decoration. Noah outright laughed as he watched the two of them dressing the skeleton up, neither understanding the directions the other was giving. It was their first Halloween in this house, and Lilly had insisted on going all out for the kids in the neighborhood. She'd had the bright idea of dressing skeletons up as Bring Me The Horizon members to put in the yard as a skeleton band.
Just then Matt walked in, flipping the light on, blinding him.
"Jesus Christ, Matt!" He yelled, covering his eyes. "The fuck do you want?"
"You've been hiding in here too long. Get your ass up and meet me downstairs in five."
"Fuck off."
"See you in five."
Matt left, leaving the door wide open. Fucking asshole. He loved Matt, he did, but he was a fucking asshole sometimes. Couldn't he just be left to rot in fucking peace?
"Fucking asshole," he grumbled, rolling out of bed. If he didn't get down there Matt would be back, likely with a bucket of water to dump on him or something stupid like that.
Noah caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he walked past it, and outwardly cringed. He looked like shit. Hair stuck up in every which way, four days worth of stubble on his face. Well, what little bit he could grow, anyway. He reached for the hoodie he'd flung on the back of his chair, pulling it over his head as he stomped out his bedroom door and to the stairs. This better be good.
***
"If you really want to make amends, hiding after having a panic attack in her kitchen isn't the way to do it."
Matt's words swam around in his head, circling over and over again. He was still an asshole, but he meant well. Of course, he was right. But how would he even go about making amends? Would she even be open to allowing him to? The way she had looked at him that night, he wasn't so sure. However, she had done everything she could in that moment to help him. Shit, it had worked better than anything anyone else did after he got home.
Carefully he leaned forward, inspecting his now shaven face. Couldn't miss any spots or it would drive him nuts. He had always been that way, but since getting sober he was more meticulous about it. Everything had to be just so or he couldn't function properly until it was fixed. Satisfied he had gotten everything he stood back up, pulling a plain white shirt over his head.
First order of business was to get cleaned up. Second was to at least attempt to get a hold of her. If she didn't answer he would just show up. Well, maybe not unannounced. That hadn't exactly gone well last time. A repeat sounded like an absolutely terrible idea if he was honest. One panic attack she might forgive, but a second one? Hardly. He was surprised she even answered her phone the last time.
Speaking of, he picked his phone up off the counter, freezing over her name. Was this a call or text situation? Maybe he should have asked one of the guys first. Jolly would probably be the one to know. He knew her best these days. Unfortunately, Jolly was out with Sadie.
Fuck it. He would text her, and if she didn't get back to him after a while then he would call. For all he knew she was at work, anyway. Heart pounding in his chest he hit the button to text her, freezing at the last message he had received from her. The night he had fucked everything up beyond repair.
"Where are you? Noah, you're worrying me."
Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard
#bad omens cult#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian smut#angst#noah sebastian angst#noah sebastian fic
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November's Naughty and Nice Stories
Day 13: A Little TLC
Stan Pines x Reader fluff
*Does contain language, and some description of throwing up*
Sitting at the counter, staring at the clock, waiting for the day to just wrap up, Stan came up behind you, and scared you back to life.
"Waddaya think you're doin'!?? Loafin' around, gathering flies with that dead stare! Get wor- cough, cough, cough-" he began hacking up a storm, putting his hands on his knees, then trying to compose himself again.
"Uh, Stan, you aren't looking too great. Don't you think you might be getting sick?" you said, looking a little concerned, as his face looked pretty red from all the coughing.
"Ack," he said, clearing phlegm from his throat," I ain't got the time to be sick! I'm Mr. Mystery, and Mr. Mystery --" and he puked on the floor, and you jumped.
"Stan! Holy shit!" And you grabbed plastic bags from the counter, seeing him puke...pink glitter? You shook your head, and dropped in front of him, guiding him to heave in there instead.
"Stan, we need to at least get you upstairs to bed! I'll call Soos in a little bit, but I need you to lean on me, and throw up in the bag if you're gonna do it again!" And you could see his poor face was sweating and pale. You climbed the steps with him, as he kept talking and tried not to gag.
"Oh, babe... Y'know I'm good....I'm Mr. Mys-" he swallowed hard, and glanced at you. "Wow...You're strong....And really cute...I always think that shit, but... I figure....I figure...Blaaaa-" he went into the bag again.
The man was delirious. He is ill, and loopy, and yet, hitting on me. Huh, he's got balls, you thought. No, he's just sick. You pushed the thought out, and got him to his room. You got him plopped on the bed, and talked him through it. You were going to have to get most of that off him, and lay him on his side.
"Stan, I'm going to undress you, and get you down to your underwear or whatever. You need to cool down, and lay on your side after that. You could drown in puke this sick."
"Oooooo...Getting to third base....And you...haven't taken me to....dinner. Whatta naughty....thing."
"Yeah, whatever ya old pervert. Let's get this stuff off you," and you helped him along, like a doll.
The jacket, then dress shirt, then shoes, pants, and finally, after 15 minutes, the girdle. You popped his fez off, and he thankfully didn't vomit during the process. You laid him on his side, and found a bucket from the hallway, and got him a cold wash cloth. He shivered a little, but he had some color back in his face, but was still sweating.
"Alright, Stan, you look a little better, so I'm going downstairs, and I'm going to close up, and let Soos know you are sick, and, I don't know. I'll be right back."
He looked up at you, his eyes misty. "Thank you. Sorry, hon."
Huh, he was being polite, definitely delirious, but hey, a broken clock is right twice a day. "Stan, you're sick. I'm not going to just let you feel like this and be alone, sick as a dog." And you went downstairs.
You made calls to Soos and the local pharmacy, and went to town to grab meds, soup, another blanket, crackers, cat litter for the puke, and ginger ale. You got back, and he was sleeping, but he left a note in terrible handwriting.
Sooooorry I'm an asshole.
Xo. Xo
Stan
You had to laugh a little, the poor guy was just out of it. Probably something going around as the temperature dropped, along with some weird food he ate. You set everything down, got some ice for the ginger ale, then grabbed a blanket and pillow from the next room over, and propped yourself a little ways from him.
"Goodnight Stan...I'm here if you need me."
The next morning...
You woke up before Stan, and crept to him, feeling his head. No fever or sweating now. And he must have got some ginger ale in the night. It was half drank, so he was at least hydrated. He actually did look really sweet sleeping, and not smelling like puke. You snuck out, and called Soos, then made some soup with crackers on the side.
When you went back up, he was at least awake. He was rubbing his head and smiled weakly at you. "Hey, sweetie...."
"Hey Stan, how are you feeling today?"
"A bit better. The old gut just ain't up for handlin' the concoction Mabel left in the summer."
"The WHAT?" you said, confused and peeved.
"Well, I was thirsty, and ran outta Pitt in the fridge, so I may have took a few swigs...." he said nervously, as you pressed your fingers into the bridge of your nose.
"Stan Fucking Pines, that bottle of....I don't even know is...I don't know! You may as well have drank paint thinner! If you weren't so sick still, I'd slap you." And you were very tempted to actually do it.
"Oooooo, didya worry about me?" he said, swatting his eyes at you as you rolled them so far back you almost saw your brain. "You like me a little."
"Stan, you were delirious yesterday," you told him, your cheeks getting pink from his taunting. "I was trying to be nice and all, and there you go-"
"Ya know I remember, right? You're strong and cute. Is it a crime to say that, even if I'm a crook? I just wanted to let you know in case somethin' really was up," as he turned his head to the window.
"Oh. Well, I do like you too, a little more than like, but I still want to slap you."
And he turned and looked back at you with a shit eat grin. "Ooooooo, I might like it, babe."
#stan pines#stanley pines#post about stan#grunkle stan#hunkle stan#gravity falls#fluff#some language#november#writing#stan pines x reader#stan pines x you
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Hai^^ I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could make one about 80s slash x reader? And how the reader’s parents and slash’s mom were friends and forced them to meet each other?
When the reader sees slash - she kinda into him and the more she stares at him the more attractive gets and slash is a bit older than her and finds her funny and weird as he notices that she’s been staring at him the whole time during dinner.
It isn’t until they’re left alone that they start talking to each other and slash makes playful gestures and teases towards her? With smut and fluff of course :P
I hope that’s not a lot^^ anyways whenever you get the time^^
A/n: I wrote this in class and barely finished so the end is kind of shit
Warnings: smut, arranged marriage trope(ish), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
I think I’ve used this before but no I didn’t bc I said so
Ever since you were young, around twelve, there was always this pressure to be with someone, relatives coming by and asking where your boyfriend was. It was annoying and you couldn’t get away from it.
Your parents only got worse as you got older, inviting friends over with suitors. Annoying old men shoving money and power in your face, none of it was ever for you they just wanted to show you what they had. They didn’t care about you.
This dinner was just like any other, you had to get all dressed up to meet some guy your parents knew. He’d be old, creepy and wasting away, just wanting someone to bed whenever he wanted, someone to beat, who he could show around town as he pleased.
You were in your room, getting ready as per usual. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, pristine and proper, white floral dress and golden makeup. Just once you wanted to do something bigger, something harsher.
The doorbell rang and you were called down to meet the guests. You say yourself at the table, ready to meet the next suitor to leave.
A woman walked through, she was gorgeous and had a beautiful smile, behind her came a man with bigger hair than his mother. He shared those big, dark eyes, full lips, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t dressed up all fancy, he wore jeans and a leather jacket over a Ramones shirt that was torn up and well loved, to say the least.
You weren’t allowed to listen to the Ramones, devils music you were told. This man was the devil incarnate and you were certain he’d be the one to take you away.
Your mother sat down next to you and placed a hand on your knee, leaning into you. “Don’t you dare go looking at this one all puppy eyed, I gave you good men you will not be falling for this monstrosity.” She said through gritted teeth, but her warning was moot, you’d already made up your mind.
The dinner went as every other did, your mother would ask questions and listen closely to the answers, except she didn’t. She didn’t care what this man, Saul was his name, had to say.
You sat idly by and ate, gaze flickering over to him all too frequently, he was sure to notice but he didn’t bring it up or look back at you.
His voice didn’t match his appearance. He was soft spoken and only spoke when told to, he rarely looked up from his plate and when he did he didn’t make eye contact.
Saul Hudson to be wed, you could see it in the papers now.
“I play guitar in a band.” He said, it broke through your day dreaming haze.
“You-you play..?” Your mother sputtered out, unable to even finish her sentence.
Saul nodded, a wide grin on his face and he looked up at you, still not making eye contact. His gaze flicked from your lips down to your shoulders, you didn’t dare guess where else he was looking. “Big band, Guns N’ Roses.” He clarified. “Playing stadiums now.” His mother smiled proudly over at him.
You wiped your mouth on a napkin and stood, quietly excusing yourself from the table. The food was gone and what was left needed to be packed away now anyway, you were just leaving it for other people.
You went to your room and sat down at your desk once more, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something new filled you, you wanted his attention, all of it. You wanted to run with him, to venture with him. He’d take you all over with his band and he’d love you. He was gentle and he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t flaunt his money, only buy you jewelry for your birthday and flowers when he loved you, just because.
You dug through your drawers and tried to find something… big, a statement piece for your face. Your attention snapped to the door as it opened and Saul walked in.
He was hesitant at first, staring at you bent over a desk drawer and digging through it like a mad man. He came over and stood just beside you, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked through the drawers for you.
Saul pulled out a deep red lipstick. He brought a finger under your chin and tilted your head for him to see you properly.
You were struck, in your core a pulse came with a heat, a desire, but you snapped out of it quick enough to wipe the gloss you already had off your lips so he’d have a bare canvas to work with.
He smiled down at you and got to work, using the tip yo outline your lips before filling them in.
You looked back at yourself in the mirror, Saul now stood behind you with his hands on your hips. He didn’t look in the mirror, he stared at you in front of him, the side of your face and how pleased you seemed with his work.
You turned back to him. “Do more.” You asked, drawing a chuckle from him and he shook his head, by god you made him laugh and you wanted to hear it again and again for as long as you lived.
“I don’t know anymore.” He said, bringing his hands to your shoulders and turning you around again. He leaned down to you, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “You do it, you can’t mess up when it’s just gonna be running down your face in a minute anyway.”
You paused a moment and looked back to him. “Why? Will you make me cry?” He nodded confidently, you looked back to the mirror. “Why would you do that? Will you leave?” You asked curiously.
“More than one way to make someone cry.” He said, rubbing your shoulders. He inhaled deeply, taking in your saddened expression, you clearly didn’t get what he was referring to. He’d just have to show you once you looked the part, well enough the part anyway, you didn’t have the clothes.
“Heavier on the eyes.” He said as you tapped on a bright red, something to connect the lipstick while still being different. You picked up your pencil liner but he took it from you and had you turn towards him. “Gimme a second.” He said with a smile, being careful to not poke you in the eye as he worked.
He was giggling when he turned you back to the mirror. You had a leopard print on your eyelids and whiskers on your cheeks. The print on your eyes was pretty, neat and well done, the whiskers were an afterthought he was enjoying much too much.
You stood up and turned to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, he couldn’t say no to that.
He wasn’t a gentleman, not by a long shot, he was just sweet. The first chance he got his hands were on your ass, pulling your dress up over your head and not caring if he smudged it, not one bit.
Your arms went around his neck and he lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed and laid you down.
He was laying over you, an arm holding him up by your head, his other hand moved down between your legs, rubbing through your folds and catching your clit, feeling how wet you already were for him.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, already starting to trail kisses up your jaw towards your ear. You hesitated before slowly shook your head, hoping it wouldn’t make him stop. Luckily he didn’t and just sucked his teeth. “Well, I don’t feel like slowing down for you.” He said sitting back up and undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his dick to spring free, of course he didn’t wear boxers. “Just tell me if it hurts.” He said as he pushed into you, groaning as he did.
Despite his words he did give you a minute to adjust to him, running his hands up and down yours sides until he felt you were ready and he started moving, slow at first but he couldn’t keep that pace for long.
His hands gripped your hips tighter, tugging you closer to him as his hips slammed into yours, each thrust bringing you closer to an edge you’d never seen before.
He was perfect above you, full lips, bruised just like yours, parted ever so slightly in soft, low grunts and groans. Sweat clung to his curls just around his face, the rest of his mane framing his sharp jaw. His teeth were crooked and he didn’t look right at you, focusing on feeling good, making you feel good.
You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but this was definitely the best you’d ever felt. Free, and it felt so good. You reached down and found your clit, rubbing it in circles.
Saul chuckled over you and nodded in approval. “Just keep doing that, keep doing that.” He said. You could feel him inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, cunt pulling him in for more, every time he pulled away you sucked him back in.
You melted into the mattress, vision going white and when you came doing from it you felt something warm spilling out inside you, Saul’s face tucked into you and he kissed over your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.
Finally he pulled away and pulled away and sat up, fixing his pants before heading out to your balcony. You saw he was smoking, he just looked so… you couldn’t even describe it.
You got your dress back on and went out to stand with him.
He smiled at you when you came out, he held the cigarette out for you but took it away before you got the chance to get it. “No way in hell am I letting you do that.” He said with a laugh.
You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you as he took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said.
He nodded, looking out on the cities lights below. Your house was up on a mountain, giving you a good view all around. “I bet it’s a pretty night for you every night.”
You smirked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you live here, you see it every night.” That’s not what you were expecting.
You looked back out to the city. “I want to see more… with you, Saul.”
He let out a heavy sigh, he wanted you with him too. You were intriguing to him, you needed a chance to rebel and he knew you would never stay with him, not after growing up like this, but he could be the one with you to see the world and that was enough. “Slash.” He said. “If you’re coming with me you call me Slash.”
“Slash.” You repeated. “Slash Hudson.” He might regret this, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything.
#guns n roses#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses x reader#gnr#guns n roses smut#gnr fic#gnr fanfiction#gnr x reader#guns n roses imagine#gnr smut#guns n roses fluff#gunsnfuckinroses#guns n roses rp#slash guns n roses#gunsnroses#guns and roses#gnr rp#slash gnr#slash imagine#slash smut#slash fluff#slash hudson#slash fic#slash#slash fanfiction
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his obsession, her control. — matthew sturniolo.
summary: because ever since he met his brothers' best friend, he hated her to the core by the way she dressed, talked and presented herself. he thought she was just an attention seeker while claiming to be the only immune guy to her dirty games. that is until the morning chris and nick decided to go out and get groceries by themselves, since matt himself refused to drive them to target, he was left all alone with her, unfortunately for the blue eyed boy, his strong belief of being an exception when it comes to fall for her dangerous charm was completely erroneous.
warnings: swearing, teasing/arguing (matt being a jerk mostly), enemies to lovers but sort of he hates her while she finds his tantrums amusing, smut, bratty!matt, blowjob, facefucking, foreplay, agressiveness and a lot of dirtytalk.
author’s note: before y’all start to hate me, i came home from work yesterday and had NO wifi nor data to post the chapter. still, i apologize for the delay. also, comment and tell me what you think about this new plot, the main character is gonna teach you that just because a girl is dominating, doesn’t mean she can’t play the submissive role to get her ways faster. ;)
chapter one.
the girl sighs slowly spreading her legs over the couch, it’s been only ten minutes since chris and nick left and she already felt like melting with boredom, not finding anything or anyone interesting to see or text on her phone.
her eyes shift slowly around the house, stopping right at the door slightly open of matthew’s room, her best friends’ annoying brother. it’s been years and she still didn’t believe they were triplets, how can matt be so awfully different from them? usually she doesn’t interact much with him except when he gives her disappointing and judging glares while they’re both in the same room. instead of angering her, she always finds it amusing and always provoke him until he’s red with anger.
that’s when the brilliant idea pops up in her pretty little head, what if she breaks into matt’s room to make him absolutely lose his shit? that’s enough to entertain her while her best friends are out for a couple hours, right?
while tiptoeing and holding a mischievous laugh, she peeks through the gap to study her target. matt is resting, laying on his bed with hair falling over his eyes and still wearing his pyjamas even though it was afternoon, his arm behind his neck making his muscles visibly flexed by the position, at the same time the other one is placed over his stomach, scrolling on his phone peacefully.
she stares at his tattoos and the veins of his arm, it wasn’t a secret matt was attractive, in fact, she didn’t feel the need to say otherwise because one; hating him wasn’t a possibility, she couldn’t care less about his childish behavior, it was actually pretty funny and that gave her lots of opportunities to tease him. and two: nothing was more satisfying than seeing his jaw clenched and his bratty attitude rising when she provoked him.
“get out.” he says without looking at the door, being able to feel her presence due to her sweet and addicting scent.
she chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her calmly. “you know… i wasn’t gonna stay but now that you told me to get out...” her exposed legs by the black miniskirt make its way to his bed, sitting on the edge, her smooth skin complimenting the white sheets while her skirt molded perfectly her thighs.
matt rolls his eyes again “i don't care what you do, just don't bother me while i’m trying to relax.” he continues on his phone, not even glancing at the girl’s relaxed figure. “what do you want, anyway? nick and chris had enough of you and now you came here to annoy me? you’re really good at that, you know.“ he smirks sarcastically.
“oh, i’m very aware.” she crawls to the other edge of the bed close to the wall, leaning against it, her legs brushing against his feet slightly without her noticing.
matt, however, did notice it. in fact, his whole shivered body noticed it.
“and don’t pretend like you hate it when i’m here.”
the blue eyed boy scoffs and moves his feet away from her. “oh, i don’t have to pretend, i can barely stand being in the same room as you most of the time.” he sets his phone down and finally looks at her, giving her the a once-over with his typical critical eye, he stares at her tank top and then at her uncovered stomach and thighs. “what’s with the short skirt, huh? trying to impress someone? it’s not like anyone here would be interested in a girl like you, anyway.” matt smirks arrogantly. “especially not me. so you can stop trying so hard, it’s pathetic.”
“it’s fucking 95° degrees.” she replied with her usual nonchalant tone while grabbing her phone to check her lip gloss. “and i wouldn’t be so sure about that, your friends are more than interested. everytime they come here to hangout with you, they spend more time thirsting over me than talking to your boring ass.” she added, drawing her lips with a finger and laughing a little at her own comment at the same time. matt finds himself glazing at her lips, the way she draws her reddish glossy flesh with her finger without a worry, like her moves were calculated. to him, it seemed like she doesn’t feel anything, no matter what he says.
he snaps from the trance, shaking his head and frowning at her words.
his friends indeed spend more time eating her alive with their eyes than paying attention to him when she is around with nick and chris, which made matt crazy with rage. all of the groans and death glares he gives her every single time just proving her point without needing to add much.
matt finally narrows his eyes, anger building inside him little by little. “don’t even fucking start with them. they’re too good for your stupid annoying personality.” he leans back against his headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the girl pointedly. “it doesnt matter, you’re just asking for attention dressed like that, regardless. typical slutty behavior from a girl like you.” the boy sneers derisively. “probably hoping one of us will bend you over and teach you a lesson, huh? too bad. i have standards, unlike my idiotic friends, apparently... they’ll fuck anything that moves. not me though. i need a real woman, not some immature whore.” he smirks cruelly. “unluckily for you, i’m not interested in sloppy seconds. or thirds.”
oh, the good and old fragile masculinity. the girl smirks, her eyes shifting to dark manner.
“is that so?” she leans over his legs, placing both hands on his tights covered by his grey sweatpants, her long black nails digging slightly into his skin while her penetrating gaze stares at his soul, the boy’s body tensed up and she scoffs. “what’s wrong? are you too insecure to handle a confident woman?” matt freezes for a second almost vocally responding to the sensation of her nails digging into his flesh, he swallows avoiding her eyes with a mix of rage and anticipation.
the girl studies his expression, feeling his tights tensing up more and more underneath her fingers. she bends back to her previous spot laughing quietly, her unbothered expression and nonchalant tone still not changing. “if you think that a piece of fabric defines a woman’s worth then you’re nothing but a virgin little boy who probably gets hard watching cartoons.” she gets up, walking towards the door, turning her head to face him before leaving. “you know… there’s a big difference between being an asshole and just a straight up sexist. i was wrong about you and sadly not in a good way.” she opens the door and closes it behind her, calmly walking to the living room and sitting on the huge white couch once again. the girl unlocks her phone, scrolling without paying attention to the screen. mentally, she was counting the seconds to see matthew’s figure bursting out of his room and scream at the top of his lungs. the corner of her mouth quirked up with excitement.
meanwhile, matthew stares blankly at her ghost in front of him, processing her words. he grits his teeth, face turning red with anger.
the tall boy jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room after her, heading straight to the living room, her calm and collected mannerism making his neck vein pop up with annoyance. “fuck you! you don't know shit about me!” matt stands in front of the girl, hands on his hips as he glares down at where she sits on the couch. “i’m not insecure nor a virgin, you stupid cunt! and i’m not a little boy either! i’m a grown-ass man who knows what he wants! unlike you, who clearly has no self-respect dressing like a fucking hooker.” his voice is rising with each word, his temper flaring out of control. he takes a step closer, looming over her menacingly.
she laughs amusedly, getting up from the couch without a hush, her eyes not backing down from his one second.
their faces are inches apart, his nostrils flare as she invades his personal space, his breath hitching slightly at how close she is. he can smell her scent again with the mix of her mint warm breath hitting his face and watch the flecks of pure darkness in her eyes. it makes him even angrier that she affects him this way.
“then why are you yelling and being so defensive?” she tilts her head, pursing her lips to mock him. “did i hit a nerve, little boy?”
matt laughs sarcastically, rubbing his face in frustration.
“i’m not defensive, you fucking psycho! i’m pissed off because you're a delusional bitch who thinks she can talk to people however she wants without consequences!” his voice drops to a low growl as he stares intensely into her eyes, his own blazing with fury and something else he refuses to acknowledge. “think you're so sly, so above everyone else, huh? sorry to break your little ‘i don’t care’ attitude but you're nothing special. just another dumb slut looking for a man to put you in your place.” matt reaches out and grips her chin roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. she gasps with his aggressiveness while smirking, still not being affected by his words.
“oh, i don’t think i’m above anyone else.” she leads her hand to his chest, creeping up to the neck and he tightens the grip on her chin, his pulse racing beneath her fingers. “i just think i’m better than guys who judges people based on clothes. you know? the ones who probrably will stay alone and horny forever?” her challenge only fuels his anger further and he leans in even closer until their noses are nearly touching, making her smirk wider. ”guys like… you.” he groans, sliding his other hand up to wrap around her throat loosely, applying just enough pressure in an attempt to make her submit once and for all, but it was too late. she was getting inside his head without even trying too much and he had no idea. “see, you’re calling me a slut for the way i dress but i bet you can’t name one guy i’ve dated.’’
“you’re right, i don't know who you've fucked. but i know your type, always throwing yourself at guys, desperate for validation. you probably spread your legs for the first dick that shows interest, don't you?” he replies right away, his words heavy with irritation. “face it, sweetheart - you're a pathetic little tease who gets off on driving guys crazy. well, congratulations, mission accomplished. you’re driving ME crazy alright... but not in the way you wanted.”
the girl lets out a small giggle, ignoring all the offensive comments, her mind floating with the thought of all the words she’s gonna make him swallow later. this by itself was awfully turning her on, but she manages to hide it well by her unconcerned expression.
“it’s so funny the way you’re affected by my words while trying so hard not to show it.” the girl takes her hand away from his neck, crossing her arms. “and i didn’t even try anything. i just replied to your brainless incel comments and you got mad because you have nothing else to say besides calling me an attention seeker.” she shrugs, her gaze still on him while she feels his fingers flexing around her slender throat.
matt snorts derisively at her words, her neck veins pulsing underneath his digits. he knows she's affected by him too, no matter how much she tries to hide it.
‘’oh please, spare me the bullshit. you live for this kind of thing… pissing people off, pushing buttons until they snap. well, i’m not falling for your sick games.’’ he releases her abruptly and steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his heart pounds wildly in his chest but he refuses to let it show on his face.“get the hell out of my sight before i do something we both regret. trust me, you don't want to test me right now. i’m not one of your little boy toys to play with whenever you feel bored.’’
the corner of her lips went up with a smirk, she quietly sneaks behind matt who is currently facing his door, trying to control the anger and arouse inside him.
the girl lifts her feet up a little to reach his ear. “and what exactly are we going to regret, matt?” she whispers, brushing her lips against his lobe.
matt freezes as he feels her warm breath ghosting over his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. every muscle in his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab her and throw her onto the nearest surface.
‘’fuck you, get off me!’’ he snaps, shrugging her off roughly and spinning around to face her. his eyes blaze with barely contained lust and fury as he backs her up against the wall, caging her in with his arms. ‘’fine. let's play this fucking game, but don’t fool yourself. this is MY game, not yours. see if you can handle the consequences.’’ matt leans in, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss before biting at her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, she moans with the mixture of pain and pleasure, the taste of blood only making her more aroused by second.
her arms wrap around his neck, one hand reaches his hair, grabbing and pulling back in a sharp grip to make him face her. “is that all you can do?” she asks, gasping with her mouth slightly open, a little blood stain painting her swallowed lips red. “guess i was right about you just being a virgin little boy.” the girl smirks, tightening the grip on his hair more aggressively, a low growl rumbles in matt's chest, the sharp sting only serving to inflame his desire further.
he presses himself fully on her, grinding his already hard cock against her hip as he grabs both wrists and pins them above her head roughly. ‘’you fucking tease, you have no idea what i’m capable of.’’ he rasps, trailing biting kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “i could ruin you in ways you never imagined. make you beg while screaming my name to the whole fucking neighborhood to listen.’’ matt nips sharply at her collarbone before soothing the sting with his tongue, laving the abused flesh with long strokes. his free hand slides down to grope her breast roughly through the thin fabric of her top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.
she gasps, lifting her leg up between his legs, her hands still pinned above her head. “you’re just talk.” she scoffs, brushing her knee against his hard cock and he tilts his head back, lips parted with a whimper before he turns back to her, closing the gap between their bodies even more while sliding up the grip on her wrists, making her moan with the pain of her muscles being stretched aggressively. “i dare you to destroy me, matthew. even though i know you won’t get even close.” she looks up at him with a burning gaze, a unreadable expression in her face.
his eyes darken with sadistic glee at her challenge, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. matt releases her wrists abruptly and grips the hem of her black tight top, tearing it open with one swift motion to expose her bra-clad breasts, she moans and whimpers against his mouth, finally feeling her arms free. the flimsy lace provides little barrier as he palms the soft mounds roughly, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers. ‘’want to be destroyed, you fucking slut? i’ll give you what you asking for.’’ he captures her mouth again in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders her depths ruthlessly. the blue eyed boy hands roam her body greedily, squeezing and caressing every curve as he grinds his aching erection against her hip bone.
she breaks the kiss with heavy breathing, her lips still brushing against his. “yet you seem more affected than me.” she leads a hand to his hard cock, caressing it, matt immediately lets out a strangled groan as she gropes his straining dick through the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, his hips jerking involuntarily into her touch. “so hard…” her hand squeezes the covered length ruthlessly, leaning to his neck and sucking his pale skin, she smiles noticing the instant harsh red hickeys. “it seems like you’re the slut.” she brings a hand to his face, slapping it slightly before grabbing his face and pulling closer to hers. “and you didn’t even need to dress like me to be one, did you?” she giggles, sucking his bottom lips before biting it without mercy to bruise him just like he did to her.
“shut your fucking mouth.” her teasing words send a fresh wave of fury crashing through him and he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly to bare the column of her throat to his hungry mouth. “you have no idea what you're talking about.” he snarls against her skin before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, marking her with his hatred and desire. the other hand slides under her skirt to cup her ass possessively, kneading the firm globe. “i’m gonna fuck that smart mouth of yours until you choke on my cock. show you what a real man can do.“
she chuckles, her eyes glaring at him with challenge. “a real man, huh?” she slowly drop to her knees, calmly tracing her fingers over his sweatpants and pulling down just enough, his hard cock jumps over her face and matt breath catches in his throat watching the scene before his eyes, her hot mouth hovering mere inches from his very erected member. “no underwear at home? how slutty of you.” she chuckles, leaning against his pink tip covered with precum and licking it while her lustful eyes gazed at his face. “let’s see if you’re just all talk or not.”
his lips turns from a gasp to a smirk with her words, he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to his straining erection. “open wide, you whore. show me how good you can suck dick.” he demands gruffly, rubbing the leaking tip across her full lips. “if you do a decent job, maybe i’ll consider letting you ride my cock later. would you like that, princess? to have me splitting your cunt open with my cock?”
matt pushes past her lips without waiting for a response, sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her mouth with a guttural moan.
she begins to take him all inside her mouth, reaching the throat right away while sucking vigorously, her tongue twisting around his tip when reaching the top before sliding back down deep in her cavity. her eyes already flooding with tears thanks to the aggressive contact of his large dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, she’s looking at him with siren eyes while her nails were scratching and digging on his thighs.
matt throws his head back with a loud groan as the girl takes him with all effort, her throat constricting deliciously around his sensitive cock. the tears finally stream down her flushed cheeks as she struggles to accommodate his size, but she doesn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts to please him. “just like that. take it all, you filthy little cockslut.” he praises roughly, holding her head steady as he begins to thrust shallowly into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity. “your mouth was made for sucking my dick, wasn't it? bet you love having your throat used like this, being choked on my thick cock.”
he picks up speed, slamming into her mouth brutally as he chases his release.
meanwhile she sucks him more, putting more pressure and taking him even deeper, her tears continuously falling down her pink cheeks and her makeup all smudge over under eyes still glued to his.
that sight of her was way too much for him, matt smirks to himself. feeling proud of dominating the girl who never backs down to anyone. her tear-streaked face, the makeup running down her cheeks as she takes his cock like a submissive whore sends matt hurtling towards the edge. with a roar, he buries himself balls-deep in her throat and holds her there as he erupts, flooding her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot cum.
“swallow it all, don't you dare spill a single drop.” he growls, keeping her trapped on his twitching shaft as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. “fuck, such a good cumdump. you’ve earned yourself a reward. now get up and bend over the kitchen counter. it’s time for me to fuck your little wet pussy.”
the girl swallows everything slowly holding back a smirk while savoring the taste of winning against a fucking asshole, she already won and her game didn’t even start yet.
slowly, she gets up in front of him, wipping the saliva off her chin and the melted makeup under her eyes. her hair beautifully messy and her shining eyes by the tears giving matthew the brief satisfaction, but quickly he shifts his mocking smile to a frown when she smirks and get closer to him.
“you’re not gonna fuck me, matt.” she announces, placing a finger on his chin. “because all i needed to do was pretend to be submissive for a split second for you to think that i was playing your little game, but in reality, you were playing mine this whole time.” she chuckles, releasing his chin with a harsh push with her finger, his head turn to the side while his jaw clenched. “you said you’re not like the other guys but you fell for my tricks just like they do.” she fixes her clothes, walking to the couch and sitting there with her legs crossed, the wetness of her pussy making her a little uncomfortable, but she brushes it off continuing her line of thoughts. “i wouldn’t be mad though, i just gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn’t i?” she asks, tilting her head while smiling.
he stares at her with his mouth open as she saunters away, ignoring his demand to present herself for him to ravage. she was right, no girl ever made him feel that amount of pleasure in his life but of course he was not gonna tell her that.
matt sighs, anger and arousal war within him as he watches her swinging her feet on the couch as if nothing happened.
“the fuck do you think you're doing? come here and bend over your fucking ass so i can destroy your soaking wet cunt.” he warns darkly, stalking towards her with murderous intent in his eyes. “you don't get to tease me like that and then just walk away. this is not how this works, i will have you begging for my cock before we're done today, mark my words.“
reaching the couch, matt grabs the girl roughly by the arm and hauls her to her feet.
“you’re the one begging to fuck me, matt.” she says smirking, his tight grip on her arm making her feel the need to provoke him more. “i mean, if you’re right about me opening my legs to every guy, i guess you’re the only one not getting it. and yet you’re here, wanting so bad to feel my pussy around your dick.” she places a hand over his cheek, caressing it with a fake sense of care. “you’re pathetic…” her thumb slowly slides to his lips, drawing it slightly while the boy shivered, not knowing which emotion to focus, horniness or ego bruised. “but that’s okay, i love pathetic men, they stand exactly where i want.” she slowly inserts a finger inside his mouth and matt opens it without even noticing. “that’s it…” she whispers, pressing his tongue with enough pressure to make him groan.
he is paralyzed again, all this new sensations eating his masculinity and dominance alive, her mocking words stoking the flames of his fury higher but at the same time he wants to give him to the pleasure but quickly recovering to protect his pride.
he grabs her wrist in an iron grip, still feeling the taste of her thumb in his mouth while the other hand acts quickly, seizing her waist against his torso, trapping her between the hard surface nearest wall and his muscular body.
“listen here, you little brat.” he slides his hand under her skirt, using his finger to pull her panties to the side. matt grins, feeling her soaking wet pussy. “look at you, you’re dripping.” he chuckles sarcastically. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re gonna take my cock as the good slut you are. the only question is whether you're going to be able to sit comfortably tomorrow or not.” he threatens menacingly, grinding his already hardening cock against her lower stomach. “i suggest you start begging nicely for it like a good little bitch. maybe if you ask really sweetly, i’ll go easy on you... for the first round, anyway.”
suddenly the voices of chris and nick echoed through the front door. seems like they were back with the groceries. she smirks at matt.
“nope, i’d rather leave you hard and dry in front of your brothers.” she winks at him smirking, taking his surprise as an advantage to break free from his body, heading to the the her previous spot calmly.
matt curses under his breath as he hears chris and nick approaching the stairs with loud laughter and chatting, knowing he won't have time to properly punish that menace for her insolence. not yet anyway. he shoots her a look filled with dark promise before quickly tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his shirt.
“this isn't over.” he whispers harshly, jabbing a finger at her as he steps back and she smiles at him amused by his anger. with that ominous vow ringing in the air, matt turns to greet his brothers with a forced smile, praying they don't notice the prominent bulge tenting his sweatpants or the glazed look of frustrated lust in his eyes.
#matt sturniolo x fem reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#fanfic#fanfiction#strong female lead#strong female protagonist#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#femme fatale#female dominance#bratty#bdsmkink#dark romance#enemies to lovers
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michael kaiser
married life
tw: toxic relationship, abusive
you and your (not so) beloved michael kaiser finally decided to tie the knot. well, he decided, and you obliged. because what else are you supposed to do? you wouldn’t ever betray him, everything he wants is what you want too. he has you so well trained, doesn’t he? you went along with it because of how docile you are, how you’re basically putty in his hands. but you also had your own selfish reasoning, but you aren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet. no, you hoped that if you became his wife, maybe, just maybe, the tenderness he sometimes showed would be more common, the nosebleeds he bestowed upon you with his cruel fists would subside, the gentle nature he has somewhere inside of him would come out more often.
unfortunately for you, that’s not how michael kaiser works. and i think you know that too, don’t you? so why do you keep up the hope? you’re a true masochist, and he’s a true sadist. a very dangerous pair. dangerous for you, the one who subjects yourself to kaiser’s brutality willingly (it seems that way these days).
don’t get him wrong, kaiser yearns for love, yearns to be loved, yearns for you to keep on loving him ‘till the very end. and he knows you will, because you don’t have any other choice. michael kaiser is truly a master of his craft, a skilled manipulator and a very intelligent man. and now that you’re his wife, things really became a whole lot easier for him. he knows he has it drilled into your pretty little head that the only thing good for you in this world is him. him, him, him, him, him. pleasing him. loving him. being with him. being so sweet to him after he’s so mean to you.
he loves you and you love him. so why does the love he feels for his cute wife manifest in the most atrocious of ways? you know, he’s always making dumb excuses for why he’s this way. he thought if he was loved he would stop, then he thought if he got a girlfriend he would stop, then he thought that if he married you he would be able to stop too. he’s ran out of excuses now. he’s fucked up, all that psychology he’s polished up on throughout his life, all those books on human traumas and emotions, they should have made him realise what he really needs is the drive to change and a therapist a million times better than the average one. but he’s a little ignorant too, in that sense. or he was, he realises it sometimes, but he ignores it.
and besides, he’s not exactly one to complain about the arrangement you guys have. especially after marriage. you became so much more perfect, he didn’t even know it was possible. you’re the perfect, doting little housewife. and you’re all for him too, so cute, so docile. you like it too, but kaiser made you. you’re a little too stupid, a little too trusting and a lot too in love with kaiser to realise it. if you were just a little bit more intelligent than the girl he first met, he’s sure you would have realised something was seriously up by now. but it’s fine, ‘cause wits were never your strong point, nope, your sweet obedient nature was. and kaiser likes that.
you’re a great housewife. and he’s a great husband, you think. you’re in the kitchen, cleaning up, wearing a sweet little outfit kaiser bought for you. he’s so generous, he doesn’t have to spend money on you, yet he does. isn’t he just the best? so expensive too, he spends his hard earned money on you? isn’t your husband seriously just the best? you’re dressed in a cute vintage style dress, hair tied up into a cute ribbon and a cute pair of slippers and socks to go with it. haha, you don’t even realise it, but you’re playing right into kaiser’s weird fantasy. he always had a thing for housewives, everything. so now he has you dressed as one cleaning the kitchen whilst he’s hard at work. maybe he’s so obsessed with this dynamic because he never had it himself, his mother packed up and left as soon as he was born, of course. and his dad was an abusive sack of shit. fucking bitches. pieces of shit. ah, he’s getting worked up. he shakes off that feeling.
today, he tried to release as much of that pent up rage into the match. and he won, as always. he’s the emperor of the world. he wanted to get out all of his anger, because what he wants more than anything today is to be a normal couple with you. but that’s not going to happen, it never does.
he walks in, “where is mein engel, hm?” he stands waiting at the door, waiting for you to come greet him like you always do. after getting married you established this new routine. and you do come, you come so quickly to him and stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek oh so lightly. “micha, i missed you sooo much” you bat your eyelashes at him. he has you trained so well, it’s impressive. you’re like some cute puppy, you’re actually incredibly well trained. he thinks he should indulge in this idea some time, he just likes any scenario where you’re completely submitting to him. but he shakes that thought off, he won’t get distracted for too long.
he wraps his arm around your waist and walks you to the couch, where he sits down and you stand in front of him, between his legs, looking down at him so innocently. you’re confused, maybe you’re not as well trained as he thought, because you sure don’t know what he wants right now. maybe a glass of wine? you go over to the wine cabinet and pull out a glass and pour in some wine.
kaiser is waiting impatiently, he trained you properly, didn’t he? so why the fuck aren’t you going along with what he wants. god, it’s pissing him off. he sees you walk away, ah, maybe you’re finally going to cook dinner as he wants. he picks up the tv remote and turns it to the bltv channel, today will be perfect, he’s going to simply sit with you, watch some soccer and then eat some nice homemad-
and there you are, standing in front of him looking oh so innocent holding out a glass of wine to him. are you fucking serious? you’re kidding right? you’re definitely doing this on purpose, don’t look so innocent. you’re just trying to piss him off, aren’t you? you fucking bitch. “what is this?” he asks you. he’s angry, but he’s being eerily calm. “wine, i thought you wanted a glass?” are you being dumb on purpose? no, you definitely did this to anger him, didn’t you? ah, he’s so mad now. “and why would i want a glass of wine, after such a long day of playing. wouldn’t i want a meal, hm? dumb girl” he patronises you. and you feel so small. “
but you do something unprecedented, something you haven’t ever done before… you have a… reply? you actually talk back? “y-yeah but how can i know what you want-“ enough. he’s even angrier now. why the fuck are you talking back to him instead of bowing and doing what he told you to do. you retarded whore. what the fuck? all that calmness is gone, he’s gritting his teeth.
poor you, you thought you could reason with him before he got mad, he seemed so calm. stupid, naïve you. you thought he wasn’t mad and now you’ll pay the price.
he knocks the glass out of your hand, the glass shatters everywhere, cutting your hand slightly. the wine pours on you, staining you red. and if that wasn’t bad enough, his fist hits you square in the nose. the pain doesn’t even register until you feel the first drops of blood, and then see them on that cute dress kaiser bought for you just days before. he’s towering above you, staring you down. you messed up, didn’t you? “you don’t talk back to me. ever. i didn’t teach you that. next time, keep your pretty mouth shut. you fucking bitch. did you forget your manners? that’s not how a girl like you should be acting. should i just find a new girl, hm?” he’s holding your throat with his tattooed hand. find a new girl????? no, don’t do that micha!!!! don’t do that to you, you didn’t mean to. but now you’re even doubting that, you definitely meant to. you just didn’t realise it. or something like that… it’s your fault.
he slightly releases the hold on your neck to let you talk, you have a chance to make things up with your words. a very slim chance. because he probably won’t care about what you have to say, whether it’s an apology or not. but he’s letting you talk, so use the opportunity before you get a black eye next too. “i-i’m sorry. i’m really incompetent” you don’t even make any attempt to grab his hands off of your throat, or even wipe up the blood streaming down your pretty lips. “i’ll not mess up again micha, i promise.”
your blood is covering part of his tattoo now too, he notices it and withdraws his hand, and laps up the blood. he always had an affinity for your blood, you taste so sweet. he likes tasting the hurt he’s caused you. it’s fulfilling, this is how he likes living. he loves hurting you, he doesn’t like admitting it often though, ironic for a monster like him. for some reason, that anger subsides. he’s not as mad anymore. maybe he’s going to apologise to you? you’re actually kind of hopeful for that, the small, rational part of you that knows it wasn’t your fault. but that part perishes as quickly as it was lit up. he ruffles your hair with his other hand and wipes the rest of the blood his tongue couldn’t quite clear up onto your rosy cheek. “it’s fine, don’t mess up again, ‘kay? i was nice this time, wasn’t i? you’ve had worse from me before. don’t take my mercy for granted, prinzessin.”
you’re so lucky for getting that mercy, thanks kaiser, isn’t he just so nice? you don’t even know how he managed to forgive you for such a horrible mistake. you’re a shitty wife, thank god your husband is so nice. and, ah, that dress, the one kaiser generously bought for you, it’s all ruined. all stained in the wine and blood. you ruined the dress with your incompetence. you messed everything up, god, why did he even marry you? you’re so stupid, and good for nothing.
he can tell what you’re thinking, he feels a little bad, but he’d rather you beat yourself up over it than him. it’s easier that way anyway. he pats your head again. “poor little thing, all bloodied up because of her own stupidity.” he chastises, and you look down in shame. he’s right, you’re so stupid. “let’s go get you cleaned up, little häschen.” and he does, he leads you to the bathroom sink, sits you on the side, and cleans the blood from you. he almost flinches at the newformed bend in your nose, and the bruise which just seems to be getting darker and changing between shades of nasty blues and purples every second. yikes, he forgets how delicate you are compared to him sometimes.
all you can think about is how generous he is, he hasn’t even changed out of his jersey yet. that’s how nice he is. and he’s bandaging you up too, a cute bandage to hide that hideous bruise. he wants to hide your mistake for you? that’s even sweeter, he doesn’t want you to look in the mirror and feel bad for it, right? that’s what he’s doing right? your husband really is the best.
and that night, you make up for your mistake. you serve him his favourite bread crust rusk, and a nice glass of water. get him changed into his robe. tie up his hair. give him blue-red glasses so he doesn’t hurt his eyes. you pamper him, ‘cause that’s what he deserves. you pamper him whilst ignoring that banging headache from the brutal assault on your nose. and the bruise on your neck. and arms. and legs. all from past outbursts of his. you tend to him and treat him like a king even though you’re so injured, but you’re too brainwashed by your husband, too eager to be the perfect housewife so he doesn’t leave you, and you end up ignoring all of this.
kaiser knows what you’re thinking, predictable little thing. he thinks you’re real stupid. he’s the one that should be scared of you leaving, he couldn’t ever find anyone better than you, anyone more willing. you’re perfect. but he won’t tell you that. he won’t give you an ego. keep being scared of being left alone, so that every second you spend with him you’re even more grateful. he’s scared too, but he’s confident most of the time you’re going to stay. he feels a little guilty for everything right now, ah, it’s one of those times. the weight of his actions presses heavy on him, but instead of taking it out on you again, he just pulls you next to him, opens his robe and drapes one side over you, feeds you a spoonful of your home cooked rusk and pinches your cheek affectionately.
“good girl, schatzi. so good. i love you. du gehörst für immer mir.” he nibbles at your ear a little.
and you just sit and blush. “i-i love you t-too micha, ‘s much.”
you’re the luckiest wife in the world, thank gosh your husband is so willing to put up with your incompetence and stupidity. being a wife is so great. you lean your head against his shoulder, and whilst you’re being so tender with each other, you can forget about all your physical pains caused by him, and he can forget about all of the things weighing and stabbing at his mind at all times, caused by everyone. you’re truly his safe place. a real angel sent from heaven.
“engelchen.”
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#dark content#michael kaiser x reader#bllk x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser michael x reader#michael kaiser x y/n#kaiser x y/n
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Yall dont match my lever of freak when talking abt the boat scene. (Talking abt what happens in my DR rn)
1. This is just a sceneria for my DR. There Wont be comma’s correct places. I have a name not y/n. My first laungage is not english so if You dont like it dont read
2. If You dont like it after u read it quite frankly i dont give a single fuck. This is my DR not yours and i dont Care what You Think of it.
JJ knocks Rafe out and i come in Holding some food i had gotten for Rafe “oh thats where Everyone wa-“ i get cut off as JJ panicks turning around slapping me unconcious too. “What the fuck did You do?!” Pope asks looking at JJ angrily while JJ’s sister Sophie slaps his head “did You just knock out my fucking cousin?!” Juliette asks and JJ looks around before saying “I PANICKED OKAY?!”
I wake up with a pounding in my cheeks and around my eyes seeing Rafe waking up too instantly seeing his Black eye worried but also turned on, before i get to say anything Sarah comes in with some food and i stare Down at the Ground, I hadent talked to the pouges for 1 and a Half year so i guess i was pretty dumb to Think it was all just going to be the same.
“I mean what would dad say if he Saw me like This huh? And why the fuck would You guys bring her too huh? She didnt do shit and You know it, i Can get You guys locking me in here but not her.” I look up as Rafe mentions me “Rafey, its fine” i say and only then foes the attention go over to me and Rafe notices my matching Black eye “no it is-wait. Why the fuck does she have a Black Eye huh? If i find out any of You fucking pouges laks a hand on her they’re fucking dead okay?!” Rafe says looking up at Sarah “Rafe! Dont say that!” I say quickly and before Rafe gets to respond Sarah does “You, Rafe are in here because noone trusts You. And you Hailee are in here because we dont trust You wont let Rafe out AND we know you’d be sad and misserable out there with him in here. Now i have some food and some aspirin for the pain just..Call if You guys need help with eating okay?” Sarah exolains and i nod thinking its a fair point as i look Down at the food Sarah set ontop of the closed toilet lid “asprin? What You gonna throw it in our mouths like we’re seaguls?!” I giggle a little at Rafe’s comment “as i Said before. No good dead goes unpunished. I was trying to help You shits and This is what i get? Being locked up having to see my girlfriend in pain right infront of me?!” Rafe says getting more and more angry as he sees my Black eye again and i so badly want to reach out and grab his face to calm him but i cant from being tied up “baby its fine okay? Sarah just go. Rafe we have eachother thats all i need”
i tell Rafe as Sarah leaves his eyes softning as he looks at me and nods and i awkwerdly move forward using my legs and manege to kiss him as he eagerly kisses me back before pulling his head back “stupid fucking restraints. Cant even touch my Girl” Rafe mumbles as he looks me over stopping at my dress the skirt slightly bunched up from the awkwerd position making my panties show.
Rafe sees it quickly smirking “you’re such a tease, in This micro dress with You panties showing for daddy huh?...if any of thoese dirty fucking pouges Saw that im gonna pluck out their fucking eyes and feed it ro the fish.” Rafe says possesively making me Roll my eyes “You know...your Black eye looks kinda good..” i whisper and Rafe smirks leaning back a little “what was that honey i didnt hear You” Rafe lies wanting me to say it again “i Said your Black eye looks kinda good..” i say a little louder as Rafe licks his lips “oh yeah? This pussy wet just Cause i have a Black eye huh?” I shyly nod and Rafe licks over his lips getting an idea “You know...the walls arent were thick on This boat...since they locked us in here why dont we have some fun and disturb Them huh?” Rafe says moving his legs trying his Best to get me onto his lap and i giggle climbing onto him and smilling qhile nodding slowly grinding on his bulge on his pants. “I Can feel your wetness through my pants sweetie Who made You This wet huh?” Rafe asks while smirking “y-You did daddy!” I moan out and Rafe nods “fuck yeah i did. Moan louder while i try and figure out how the fuck we do This okay?” Rafe saya and i nod doing as he says while he tries to figure something out “okay, You Think You Can take my pants off with your feet baby?” Rafe asks and i nervously nod and he lifts himself up a little and i quickly take Them off “good girl, okay baby now you’re already tied up so submitting shouldent be so hard, just do as daddy says unless You wanna be fucking punished. Now come bounce on daddy’s cock” Rafe says and i moan loudly eagerly doing as he says.
I wont go into details of what we did just know, the pouges came over knockout around 6 times the first Day asking if we could quiet Down. JJ, John b and Kiara all couldent sleep the first 2 days Cause of the noises, me and Rafe lips end up both swollen and massive and when we’re almost drowing Rafe is carrying me Cause i feel asleep in the middle of it.
#outer banks#rafe cameron#drew starkey#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#drew starkey pics#obx#fuck me the Cameron#need him more then i need air#Rafe Cameron boat scene#Black eye#boat scene#wet and needy
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Ok but imo (as a trans guy) the dress moment could also work very well as an ftm Gender Moment.
I feel like the basis of the dress moment being so significant (or even being included in the show, although god only knows what the creators meant it to show) isn't that he's* considering wearing a dress. We see many other crew members wearing dresses at the party, laughing with everyone else and generally having a good time, and it's never brought up again, because it's a costume worn to a party. To Fitzjames, it seems to be more than a costume, hence his reluctance, hence the significance of the scene.
The common transfemme angle (as I see it, correct me if I'm wrong) is that this represents a moment where Fitzjames confronts the fact that his desire to wear the dress runs deeper than a desire to dress up for a night. This is more than a costume, this is a significant, meaningful expression of a desire that he's hidden for years, a desire that he knows (has been taught) is shameful, and now he has the opportunity to show that part of himself and have no one bat an eye and he just can't do it because it feels too vulnerable.
The transmasc angle is more complicated, so I'm going to explain my own experience real quick. When I was younger, I had to wear dresses and I hated it, but it was what was expected of me, so I didn't feel like I had a choice. Refusing to wear dresses and presenting masc was an act of rebellion for me, a hard won victory. It was also, up until I medically transitioned relatively recently, the only way I could pass. So I have that background: the years of having to wear dresses, and many more years of being pressured to wear them even after I'd repeatedly expressed that I didn't want to. But, now, I am living as a queer man. A lot of the men I surround myself with are more androgynous/feminine than I am, and none of my friends would bat an eye if I wore a dress. I also pass pretty much 100% of the time, and if I went out in public in a dress, I'd just be seen as a man in a dress (which comes with its own issues, but I don't have time to get into that right now). So I could wear a dress, and not massively run the risk of no longer being seen as a man, something that means a lot to me because it took a lot to get to that point. But I still haven't worn a dress since I stopped when I was 7. Look, I've got some internalised shit going on, it's not necessarily healthy, but it does help mimic the kind of shit that would be going on in the mind of someone living in 18th century england. Wearing a dress would-- to put it simply-- make me dysphoric. Not because I see dresses as something only women wear, but because it would remind me of when I had to wear them, and because I'd feel like that would be all people would need to see through me to my past and start seeing me as a woman again. To bring it back to ftm Fitzjames, this could easily apply. He knows that the crew see him as a man, he knows that a cis man in his position could (as many do in the show) wear the dress as a costume, have a good time, and never experience any kind of consequences for it-- he knows that he could do that. But it's more complicated, because, although he knows that it'd be fine, wearing the dress feels too vulnerable, too familiar. It breaks down the performance of the perfect (cis) man that he tries to keep up at all times, and so he doesn't do it.
Or maybe I'm just projecting, idk.
* just gonna use he/him throughout the post for consistency
i don’t think we consider ftm fitzjames enough like yes of course we had the dress scene which was crazy but also have we considered a guy who is So Obsessed with living up to the victorian masculine ideal despite everything going against him from birth. and yet somehow he is able to rise above all of that until they’re stuck in the arctic where society has all but forgotten them. and he can only really accept that it’s okay not to be this perfect heroic guy when he becomes friends (lovers?) with another guy who has long stopped trying to be the perfect victorian man because him being irish and lower birth status means society will never accept him as such. and again i recognize the Gender Moment of the dress but from the ftm angle the whole fucking show is a Gender moment
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……..they really have that…..the sixth sense for when I’m happy…….ha…..hahaha…….
#irl post#literally got my breakfast#sat down#started playing the event#was squealing with joy cuz FINALLY#aaaaaaand I immediately get a fucking text#and now I need to get dressed and go do shit#when I had nothing planned but THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY#FUCKING FUCK#im not allowed to relax and be happy
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i’ve been up like 3hrs & 2/3 of each hour has been me shitting & suffering like
#stream#shitposting#still don’t know the shitting tag#me after the first: ok i’ll have to shit again in a few hours but i can calm down for 10 mins then get things done (hopeful) ((mistakenly))#like ok so u want to go back (suffers worse than the first) But feels GOOD LIKE WE’RE DONE & WE STILL HAVE TIME TO GET TO VODAFONE#as soon as i got dressed & finished brushing my teeth here she COMES for the fuckin KILL#& now i know im not going to be able to get to fucking vodafone ALSKALSKALKSLAKSLAKSLA#maybe i can get to ikea but im cowering in a corner (in my head) ((literally im shitting rn & it feels like my asshole has been stabbed but#it’s not that bad like 3/10 i’ve had worse))#but idk i feel like there’s going to be a fourth in there & what fuckin SUCKS is that this bitch is SOLID so it’s not even like i can take#anti diarrheals bc i don’t …. NEED IT TO BE MORE SOLID IF IT WERE A LITTLE LESS THAT WOULD BE GRAND#i’m so fucking exhausted#& i still have shit to do#she’s got the crampys#& THATS WHAT U GET U GLUTTONOUS CLOWN UR LACTOSE INTOLERANT & ATE 5/7 OF A LARGE PIZZA#but that was like#the first thing i actually ate in like 3 days#anyway AKSKALSKALKSLKSLKSALSLA at least u have CALORIES#or at least had#did i absorb them probably not#not the point#that’s why u have ur vitamins which u hold as gospel
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