#i hate venting and get short answers

[space-payacho]

...

[danwhobrowses]

I'm not sure how much good this vent will do, I'm not even sure I want to post this vent after my last one, but I'm writing it just so it's out of my head and into words because it seems once again fandom has chosen to send vitriol Ashton Greymoore's way.

What for? They talked to a 'specter' of the primordial titan within them, through their connection to the earth, the natural flow of creation and destruction. They ask what will happen to the world, it responds that it'll endure, they ask what of the people, it responds that the strong will survive and the weak will be remade into something stronger, to which Ashton replies they think they understand. To fandom this means that Ashton is becoming a fascist, that they have a 'Make Exandria Great Again' attitude for wanting the Primordials back, that they need to be beaten up or 'get what's coming to them' in order to change their mind, and I can only sit here and stew and wonder if this hate is really well-founded? Ashton is among my favourite characters in C3, I get frustrated by them at times too but if I think about it a big percentage of my frustrations is more towards people disliking them than me disliking things they do, or Matt setting up scenarios that doesn't do them any favours towards the fandom that hates them. Some of these are knee-jerk reactions of course, but for others it does feel like they have it out for Ashton, and I don't wanna engage with that, which makes it quite lonely when most of the fandom hones in on it.

For the most part I can understand how the whole 'the weak will be remade' bit can be taken badly; it's definitely iffy, but every other plan we have is also very iffy. The Release Predathos option literally involves unleashing an entity that wants to genocide the gods, the Maintain Status Quo option ('option' the status quo imo is impossible, in my mind the Gods can stay but the dynamic will still have to change) maintains a relationship where the gods pick and choose who they feel deserves help, using their power to covet more power, strongarm and demand loyalty, and overall choose fellow gods over mortals when the chips are down and not owning up to it. We should also remember that entities can speak in riddles, 'remade into something stronger' doesn't necessarily mean death; it could mean to adapt and grow, to become strong enough to bear and overcome it as many of the PCs of Critical Role have done with their hardships and trauma. It's worth reminding that the sad truth is that people will die whatever outcome happens - the aim is always to lessen the amount but if the Gods leave it's a power vacuum, if we linger too long it's a Calamity, and if the Gods stay it's a holy war on a more wild and less organized scale - and that Ashton isn't saying they approve of such death, merely that they think they understand. The commune doesn't tell Ashton which way to go; it only tells them that the world will endure, there will be change and it will change people, trees will still grow, the wind will still blow, the waves will still flow along the coasts of the sea, and people will survive. I know the interpretation can differ from people thanks to Matt's patented vague or riddle-mounted choices in phrase, but I also think if it was the Wildmother who told Orym or some other follower that 'nature is a cycle, everything must adapt to change or else it'll die - this world will change, but it will also survive' nobody would be calling Orym a fascist, people would accept it because the Wildmother's domain is nature, and nature is not always kind.

While we're mentioning Orym - and because this is gonna come off as critical I must preface that I like and enjoy All of the Hells, that's not changed - I also gotta call it out here because it does very much feel like the people who hate Ashton hate them for the reasons they love Orym. Both are stubborn, they're diligent in their personal code, they care deeply for their friends and would give their whole being just to keep them safe, they believe in the Hells' power and greatness more than each member does and more than they believe in their own, but Ashton gets the hate mainly because these fans agree more with Orym on the god stuff. What confuses me though is how these same haters can despise Ashton for being consistent but love Braius, the literal Devil Worshipper who secretly is on board with the Chase Away plan only so he can help the Devil rule the world, the compulsive liar. Where's Braius' scrutiny? A world under Asmodeus will be a far worse 'survival of the fittest' scenario, why does Braius get a pass in all this stuff huh? Because he's funny? Seems people ignore the whole morality talk when they're discussing Braius' dedication to Exandrian Satan.

I find it irksome too that even the group seem to criticize Ashton reaching out to Primordials too - as if that wasn't what we wanted them and Fearne to do anyway. They don't dislike the gods simply because they're a 'great entity', it's because they're a great entity that holds power and doesn't use it equally or fairly; they pick and choose who to help, a lot of the time in Ashton's experience for their own self-service, but they won't prioritize mortals over another god no matter who cruel or heinous the god is being, and the following of these gods are so intertwined with politics that most religious motivation also ends up being political. Ashton has no connection to the gods, they reached out and got nothing, an Angel looked at them and made them feel like nothing, but they do have a connection to the Primordials; from the Earth Golem to the Titan Empress they're literally a vessel of, they experienced something significant in their connection to the Earth, so I don't like how that they're almost mocked for having it. In addition, Ashton's behaviour during this commune differs because of that connection, but also because the titans are a natural flow; they don't demand or test or politic or prejudice, and despite being a Great Entity in its own right it never made sure Ashton felt small for their own satisfaction, they asked a question and got an answer, it's the same reason Ashton has disdain for most political leaders but likes and respects Keyleth, Allura, Kima, Pike, and (eventually) Percy despite also being people in power. To call on Orym and the Wildmother as an example again; Orym's an Air Ashari, the Ashari are guardians of the Elemental Planes - made from the Primordials - not tied to a god, but nobody criticizes his connection to the Wildmother despite both not being a follower and his culture being more tethered to Primordials and their descendants. I'm not saying it's all correct for Ashton to want things to go back to how Primordials ruled, but we must remind ourselves also that we only know a story written by victors when it comes to the Schism - a story which could very easily have been altered and edited to make it feel more justified for the Primes and mortals to actively genocide all the Primordials, the native species and creators of this world, and desecrate their remains to make weapons, soul anchors, and cities - the specter didn't say 'fuck em, all mortals should die' after all, if they believe mortals would survive then they must be at the least tolerant of mortal existence. Why is it okay for god followers to say they wanna keep the world with the gods they have a connection to (and I'm not saying they aren't) but Ashton is out of line for wanting to have a world which has something active that they also have a connection to? It seems rather unfair to allow one side to have and the other to have not, picking and choosing because our audience's bias has spent more time with the gods, Ashton wanting something they can connect to doesn't feel all wrong either, the Eidolons still exist with faint worship hiding away so they're not smited by the gods, why can't faith exist so they're not in hiding? I sincerely doubt the Punk Rock that is Ashton is asking for the Primordials to fill the Gods' roles the same way the Gods have been running things either, they want to break the throne remember? There needs to be a balance in ideals and practice of course, and in an ideal world there could even be a more fluid and all-inclusive Exandria where gods and Eidolons live harmoniously with mortals without hierarchy and class systems, I think Ashton could happily live with something like that, they did say the world needs 'a little chaos' to call back to Matt hinting that the current world doesn't have enough.

Which leads us to those wishing violence upon Ashton - and I really don't like that. People who say 'hitting them over the head is the only language they understand' seem to misinterpret Ashton as if everyone around them have been on their hands and knees begging Ashton to reconsider and them ignoring valid points and pulling a Leroy Jenkins. In reality, nobody is actually talking to Ashton about it, a lot of the frustration with Bells Hells right now is that they aren't talking to each other, even about the end goal! Ashton has valid reasons for their thinking, so being violent isn't gonna change their mind; undermining, dehumanizing and trying to effectively bully anyone let alone someone with chronic pain and low self worth will never truly convince them to your way of thinking. All people understand the language of violence, but that language is not used justly, those who truly wish violence upon Ashton don't want it in hopes it'll force Ashton to change their mind, they want it for their own satisfaction of seeing them in pain; so they can further push them away from the rest of the group and go 'that guy's not one of us', make it so the people Ashton calls family after a lifetime of loneliness, confusion and abandonment - the people they promised they won't abandon, and have kept true on that promise even at their lowest - make them feel small and worthless, and force them into box where they can't be themselves, and I hate that people would want to treat them that way. Ashton IS capable of listening; they've stepped back and trusted the other Hells to do their own thing even when it's ridiculous like staging a play where they pretend to be Ludinus to trick Unseelie emissaries into thinking that he attacked them, they listened to the gods even when they didn't have to like they promised they would and despite it being very personal they held themselves back for the benefit of the group, and if the group talked to them calmly where they were all allowed to healthily discuss the pros and cons, the ideals and compromises, and the risk and reward of all plans that have been proposed then they would listen, and they would try - you don't need to slice bread with a broadsword.

Will Ashton 'get what's coming to them'? Maybe, but what is that exactly? We only assume to know the full vision of what Ashton wants to act on. All of Bells Hells are gonna face the consequences of the choice they make on Ruidus - when they finally make one that is - in and out of the world they live in, so won't that apply to everyone? So what for Ashton? do people want Fractures 2.0? Does everything Ashton wants in life have to blow up violently in their face? Family, Closure, their best friend's safety, why does 'what's coming to them' have to be something aggressive and harmful? People change through positive reinforcement and good experiences too! Caduceus Clay would remind you that it's love that makes people. Don't mistake this rant as me wanting Ashton to be exactly as they are now, I too want to see growth from Ashton and we ARE seeing it happen; I see it in small instances where they think twice about rash actions and try not to fly off the handle, when they sit just to listen or understand or to defuse tension, and that when they're going somewhere or doing something they let the group know in advance, those who think Ashton hasn't changed since ep. 1 aren't paying close attention, but that doesn't mean that they don't still have more ground to cover. I believe that Ashton grows the most through kindness; when they're treated like a person and not a blunt instrument or a nuisance, and I hope what's 'coming' for Ashton isn't rejection, bitterness, and isolation, but acceptance, empathy, and for someone - if you know me you'd know who I'd want it to be - to convince them that they are worthy of living, that they're special not because of their powers or blood or because they have died and been put back together again (honestly, it does irk me a little that both Keyleth and Imogen chose that for titles and to brag to the Matron, I know it isn't intended this way but sometimes it feels like saying 'your best defining quality is that you've died a lot') but because while they have every reason to hate everything they still chose to be kind to those who deserve kindness, they have a good heart and they mean well. Are they perfect? No! They're in their 20s very few people irl have their lives together at even twice that age, but I want them to have good things in their life; things that help them feel happy and safe and like they can still feel comfortable in their own skin without having to appear more 'palatable' for people who've already decided that they don't like them. I want them to know that they've always deserved to live and they still deserve it now, I want that not just for Ashton but for all the Hells, and hopefully they'll all live to have it.

And most of all I want the people who hate them to be wrong about Ashton Greymoore, and I want Taliesin to prove them wrong.

[doodlingwren]

Hiatus

I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.

Thank you for your patience ❤

Wren

[binders-and-beanies]

.

[fushitoru]

so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot

pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader

summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 

you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 

so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.

you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  

picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”

there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”

“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.

feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.

shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.

but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”

“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”

the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"

a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”

that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”

“so i know who i’m looking at.”

the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”

a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”

your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”

but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”

the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.

for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 

 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”

“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?

“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.

“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”

you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.

“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 

you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.

“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.

 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”

“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 

the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”

slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”

“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”

you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.

“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”

“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 

the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”

“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”

as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.

you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”

“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”

“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.

 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 

you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”

he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 

“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”

“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap��s. 

“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”

you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 

you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 

he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”

you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.

his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.

you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”

ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.

“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.

you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.

“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.

“ryo, where are you going?”

“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 

“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 

later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

[funky-brainedwhaletransgender]

It’s just a little bit soul crushing when I come across trans men talking about how much they hate men. Apologizing for being one. Like ‘haha I guess I’m a trans man yep that means I, as a man, suck, just like all other men haha feel free to vent your frustrations about the patriarchy at me. I can’t help being a man I hate men why would I choose to be one?’

I remember being there. Hating the gender you belong to is exhausting. It’s worth deconstructing I promise, even just for your wellbeing. Here’s a start:

Manhood isn’t inherently tied to misogyny and violence. Misogyny and violence are choices. Just choices that men are disproportionately conditioned into making. Men can and do rewrite that conditioning all the time. Manhood isn’t the problem. The problems are misogyny and violence. You’re not a bad feminist because you let go of the hate you have for the manness of yourself. Your manness doesn’t make you violent or misogynistic, being violent and misogynistic make you violent and misogynistic make you violent and misogynistic. Testosterone HRT doesn’t turn you into the archetype of male violence. Testosterone isn’t the driving force of misogyny and violence. Do you understand what I’m saying? Misogyny and violence are not inherent and inescapable to anyone, regardless of identity. Being a man doesn’t make you evil.

Treating misogyny and violence as inherent to manhood excuses men for being violent and misogynistic. Accountability is real hard when you consider doing bad things a fundamental nature tied to an identity. If men are sexist, can you blame this man for being sexist? That’s just how men are. Do you see how this is boys will be boys hidden behind a couple layers of pseudo feminism?

I spent years dancing around manhood because I believed the second I labeled myself a man I was the enemy. The number of ways I found to describe my masculine identity that weren’t man. The number of times hearing ‘at least you’re not a man’ set me back. The number of times I came so close to manhood, but ran into an explicitly trans inclusive ‘I hate men’.

I think the best word for how manhood feels to me is settled. Being a man feels like home. Masculinity feels so gentle, in a big ol’ teddy bear sort of way. Growing a beard and letting your little cousin stick flowers in it. Making sure none of my students think it’s okay to make fun of the kid who cries a lot. Answering ‘boys don’t cry’ with ‘I’m a boy, and I cry every single time a dog in a movie is sad’. I want to be so kind. I want to be the man someone chooses to start working on their dog’s fear of men with. I want to be trusted to watch a drink and to walk with people to their cars at night. I want them to find a cure for cat allergies so I can get that patting-tiny-animal-with-hairy-hands gender euphoria without eye irritation. Cardigans and top surgery scars. Wrinkled hands injecting testosterone. My dream life closes on sweet if eccentric old man.

I may have tangented a bit, but just… you don’t have to hate the man part of you. It doesn’t do any good. It’s not a moral responsibility. You can let that go because ‘man’ is just a gender. It isn’t a fundamental evil that exists deep within your being. The only evil masculine urge I’ve ever felt is the desire to wear athletic shorts in the middle of November. You’re not doing anything wrong by existing as a man I swear.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: I Have A Proposal For You

Parings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Description:

Reader has no luck with me her own age, they're useless and never put the effort in to make her cum, Steve offers to help her.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin

Words: 4,521

So I'm in a bit of a writing rut on my series, so I thought I'd write a quick little smut with Stevie rather than stress over my series. Hope you enjoy <3

Completed One Shot

You huff loudly as you walk into the Avengers kitchen at 1am, you didn't expect anyone to be awake, but of course with so many people living under one incredibly large roof, there was. Steve sat inside at the kitchen breakfast bar, drinking his small glass of whiskey. 

"I hate men" You snap, huffing again as you lean against a counter, you hadn't said it specifically to Steve, you just needed to get it out, you had been thinking it for a while. A hour to be exact. 

Steve watched as you walked into the kitchen, he noticed your annoyed demeanor and stands up, walking closer to you. 

"What's up?" He asked, his blue eyes on you, worried something bad had happened. 

"Men" You mutter "Well, specifically men my age, they're useless...I went out tonight, ready to party and have some fun, and went home with this guy, he didn't even make me cum! But when he was finished, he just rolled over and went to sleep!" You ranted, your thoughts thinking over the events of the night again, this was the last time you'd ever have a one night stand with a random man. They were useless. 

Steve stood listening intently as you ranted, a small smirk forming on his lips as you continued vented. 

"He just rolled over and went to sleep? Just like that?" He asked, he was leaning against the opposite kitchen counter now, his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles maybe distracting you just a little. 

"Just like that!" You yell, you then notice the small redness over Steve's cheeks. "Oh...Steve, I'm sorry, I'm sure you don't want to hear about my pathetic sex life" You say, feeling a little guilty. 

Steve chuckles at your words, he took a step closer to you. 

"It's okay. I don't mind listening to you rant. So, tell me more. This guy, how old is he exactly?"

"My age...well, twenty-three, so a year older than me" You answer, rolling your eyes at the thought of the guy again. At least he didn't finish inside of you...you kept telling yourself. 

"And he didn't even make you finish, that's a little rude" Steve sighed, that smirk forming on his lips again. 

"I'm telling ya, men my age are useless" You huff pushing yourself off the counter and taking a few steps away from the area. "Guess I'll go to bed, sort it out myself"

Steve notices the disappointment on your face as he watched you move. He couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance, not just at the way that guy had treated you, but at the thought of you having to 'sort it out' by yourself. 

"Wait a second" The words formed in his mouth before his brain even finishing thinking them. A idea coming to his head. You stop walking and turn to look at him. 

"Yes?" You ask. Steve then pushes off the kitchen counter he was leaning on and walks over to you, standing an arms length away from you. His eyes fixated on yours as he stood in front of you. 

"Can I ask you a question?"

You smile up at him and nod. "Of course"

Steve stood another step closer to you, shorting the distance between you both, he held your gaze as he asked his question on his mind. 

"If there was a way to...'solve' this problem of yours right now, would that be something that would interest you?" He asks, his voice low and husky. The breath within you was suddenly caught in your throat. You looked him up and down quickly, wondering if you were dreaming...your crush on the older man was something you'd had for a while, not that anyone knew. He was a lot older than you, so naturally you never thought he'd like you. 

"And...how would you 'solve' my problem?" You ask cooly. Steve obviously noticed your lingering gaze, he could see the flicker of curiosity within your eyes as you looked at him. His heart rate picked up a bit as he watched your reaction, your cheeks had a slight red tint to them, and your tongue darted out to lick your lips, your eyes never straying from his. He leaned in a bit closer to you as he spoke quietly to you. 

"Well, I have an idea" 

"Yes?" You ask breathlessly. 

Steve continued to observe your face, noticing the slight change in your breath as you spoke. He leaned in a little closer, stepping closer, your bodies almost touching now. 

"You said that the guy you were with didn't...make you finish, right?" He asked, his voice soft and low as he spoke. 

"He didn't" You answer quietly as you look up at him, his eyes sparkling down as he looks at you. You lick your lips again, your body feeling weaker and weaker as he spoke. You could guess what he meant, you hoped you were right in your thoughts. The feeling in your lower stomach was strong, the need and want for him growing. 

"So you're all...pent up and unsatisfied, right?" Steve asks, he noticed your slight irritation at the fact that the guy didn't make you feel good. He felt annoyed on your behalf, but quickly he pushed that thought aside. You nodded, your eyes still on his, though you felt as if your eyes had a glaze of lust over them with how you were feeling right now. 

"And you don't want to have to 'take care' of it yourself, right?" He asks, his voice lower and lower with every word. 

"No" You answered quietly. 

He held your gaze for a moment longer before speaker, his voice becoming a bit more huskier. 

"In that case...I have a proposal for you" 

"Yes?" You asked, your body tingling as you thought about the things he could do to your body. He took another step closer, if that were possible, you were touching now, hips to hips. He looked down at you, a hint of a smirk on his face. 

"I can...'assist' you with taking care of that problem, if you'd like"

"I'd really, really like that" You whisper, Steve had lowered himself slightly, so your faces were close now. Close enough that if you just moved forward slightly, you'd be touching noses. You could smell his cologne he was so close, it only added to your current state. 

"Then I'd be happy to 'assist' you, sweetheart" 

"Please" You almost whimpered. You cursed to yourself in your mind for sounding so pathetic. Steve smirked and gently raised a hand placing it under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him more intently.  

"So eager...I like that" He whispers, the breath from his words touching your lips in a way that makes you feel almost feral, ready to take him, let him have you however he wishes. The urge to please him bubbles up inside you, and usually you'd maybe feel embarrassed, but not today, not with Steve. You nodded pathetically, his fingers still having a hold on your chin as you move. 

"Please Steve, I am"

"Don't worry...I'll make you feel good, I'll take care of you"

"We...we should go to one of our rooms" You whisper, hating yourself for breaking the wonderful moment between the two of you, but having another Avenger walk in on you was not on your bucket list. He nodded in agreement, his eyes roaming over your face, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close, leading you towards the hallway. 

"Let's go to mine"

"Okay" You say softly, letting him lead you completely. Steve kept his arm around your waist as he led you down the hall to his room. As he pushes the door open, he guides you inside, closing the door and locking it afterwards. 

"Fuck, can't believe we're doing this" You whisper, almost in awe at one of your fantasies coming true. Steve couldn't help but chuckle at your comment. He led you over to the bed, guiding you to sit down before standing in front of you. You looked up at him, enjoying the sight of him. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I promise I'll make you feel good" He says with a sweet smile. You nodded, and returned the smile hoping he'd understand you were willing to put your entire trust onto him. He must of because he smile widened and he began to unbutton his shirt, he pulled it off his body, revealing the muscles underneath.

"Wow" You whispered out-loud. You looked up over his body, your mouth watered at the slightly of his muscles and naked torso. He chuckled softly and began unbuttoning his trousers as well, keeping his eyes on your face as he dropped them down to the ground. He down stood in front of you with just his boxers covering his skin. 

"You like what you see?" He asks, and your eyes were no longer on his, now looking at the large bulge in front of your face, trapping within the confinements of his boxers. 

"God...yes...so much" You say with a slight smirk, you moved your hands from your lap and onto his hips, your fingers hooking just under his boxers. You heard Steve's breath hitch as you touched his skin. 

"Someone's eager..." He teased, his voice a bit hoarse. 

"Shut up" You answered as you slowly pulled his boxers down his toned legs. He let out a soft chuckle.

"Eager and rude" He said, still teasing you. 

"You have no idea" You mutter, you were eager, for him. You pulled his boxers all the way down, his already hard cock bounced free from his boxers and slapped against his stomach. His boxers were now pooled down at his feet, and his cock stood to attention in front of your face, your stomach fluttered at the sight, he was large...Larger than you'd had before, but not only did he have ample length, he was thick...You could imagine how full you'd feel with it inside of you, you squeezed your legs together, feeling excited. 

"God Steve, you're beautiful" 

"Beautiful huh? You think I'm beautiful?" He asked, his voice a bit huskier than before. 

"So much, god, I know this was originally about me finishing...But can I put my mouth on you?" You ask, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. Your eyes flicker up to his momentarily as you ask your question. 

"Go ahead sweetheart" He answers, his cheeks were flushed a little red now. It was enough to make you feel giddy. You moved your hands first, taking his hardness in your hand, it was just larger than both of your hands wrapped around it. You left one hand wrapped around his cock, close to the base as you moved forward, licking his head experimentally. Steve's breathing got heavier as you completely wetted the head of his cock. 

Closing your eyes you really got into it, taking his tip into your mouth, moaning softly at his taste, he tasted clean, fresh, unlike so many men you had been with. You expertly moved your hand up and down his length whilst taking as much of his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck. Your eyes were wet, small tears were streaming down your cheeks, he must of noticed because one of his hands moved to wipe them. Steve was moaning loudly now, he had moved one hand to your head, softly holding you, guiding you but not forcing you down. You would of smiled if your mouth wasn't busy, even in moments like this, he was ever the man with the manners. 

You moved your mouth a little faster, your jaw had started to ache slightly, but you didn't stop, until his hand moved down to your throat, stopping your movements, you pulled off from him and looked up at him through your wet eyelashes. 

"Why'd you stop me?"

"I didn't want to come before you darling" He whispers.

"Oh" You say quietly, he was perfect "Let me level the playing field and we'll continue" You smirk, standing up from the bed, you lift the dress you were wearing off your body, throwing it somewhere random in the room. Steve lets out a low breath as he watched you. You watched as he swallowed, his eyes fixed on your body. 

"Damn, you're just...wow" 

Your smirk only continues to plaster over you face as you take your underwear off, leaving you completely bare to him. He couldn't take his eyes off you, his eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of your naked form. 

"You're absolutely perfect, sweetheart. You're so goddamn beautiful"

"Kiss me" You whisper, interrupting his rambles. Steve heard your whispered request and immediately he leaned down so he was level with you. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you against him, and pressed forward pressing his lips to yours. His lips explored your mouth hungrily, his tongue parting your lips and sliding against yours as he kissed you. 

You sighed happily into the kiss, smiling against his lips, your naked bodies pressed together whilst you snaked your hands up from his shoulders into his luscious blonde hair. He let out a quiet moan into your mouth, he let his hands wander your body, exploring every inch and curve of your skin as he continued to kiss you with fervor. 

"God, I can't take it...need you" You mumbled against his lips. 

"I need you too, sweetheart. I need you so damn badly"

You moved your hands from his hair down to his hips, holding him as you walked backwards, guiding him to follow you, when the back of your legs hit the bed, you fell down onto it, smirking up at him. Steve followed you, hovering his body over yours. His lips move onto your body, whilst his hands held onto your hips as his lips worshiped you. 

He continued to trail kisses down your body, his lips moved over your skin so delicately, exploring and worshiping every inch of you. He took his time, wanting to make sure you savored the sensation, letting his hands also roam across your body, caressing and touching you in all the right places. 

"Mmmm Steve...oh...that's so nice" 

He carried on kissing you and touching you, listening closely to every small noise and whimper you would let out. He paused for a moment to look up at you, a smirk on his face. 

"You that that, sweetheart? Like my hands on you, my mouth on you?"

"So much" You whimper quietly as you look down at him. 

He smiled as you answered him, obviously enjoying the effect he was having on you, the way you were responding to him, the way you were reacting to his touch. He continued to kiss and gently suck at the skin of your breasts, as one hand moved to touch your nipple, playing with it in between his fingertips. 

"You're so beautiful, you know that? So goddamn beautiful..." He mumbled against your skin. 

"Steve, I need you...need more" You begged, your senses were overwhelmed with a need for him. You shivered as he moved one hand down your body, his fingertips trailing against your skin as he moved, his eyes were still locked on yours as he mouths your skin, his fingers moved down in between your legs finally touching you were you needed it most. 

He expertly moved his fingers in between your wet folds, dragging your wetness from your hole up to your clit, he slowly circled two fingers over your clit as his lips moved up to your collarbone, sucking a small mark into your skin. You moaned loudly, moving your hands to grip his arms as you spread your legs further for him. 

Steve knew exactly where you needed him to touch, and he was more than happy to provide it. He moved two fingers away from your clit, and you were ready to whine at the lost of contact, but he soon made up for it by pressing those two fingers inside of your wet hole, you gripped his arms tighter feeling your body shudder slightly at the new feeling, his fingers were thick, and felt amazing within you. You grind your hips against his fingers slightly, only grinding harder as his thumb pressed against your clit, the little bundle of nerves shooting electric throughout your body. 

"Oh...wow...Steve...jeez, you're good with your fingers" You moan out in a whisper. 

He chuckled, his lips still on the skin of your chest, he smirked, obviously feeling a bit proud of his skills with his fingers. 

"You like that, huh? Like how I'm making you feel with my fingers?"

"Yesss!" You whined as he pumped his fingers faster into you. His fingers didn't slow as he kissed lower, his lips trailing down your torso and down past your stomach. He continued to kiss you, moving his mouth lower and lower, his goal becoming more and more clear as he approached where his thumb was. 

"Oh! Yes! Steve!" You whined loudly, feeling your body close to it's edge. You body shuddered hard as his mouth replaced his thumb against your clit, he sucked hard and kept his fingers moving at a fast pace, you body shook as he brought you to your finishing point, you came hard around his fingers and over his face, he didn't slow his movements, moaning softly against your wet skin as you grind against him. Your body shook in the aftermath of your pleasure, your legs closing around him. 

Steve looked up and smirked, his free hand moved to hold down your leg, making sure you kept them spread. You body trembled against him, you were still shaking slightly. 

"Don't close those legs, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet"

"Fuck, I hope not"

He chuckled again, moving his lips back to your clit, he licked down towards his fingers, opening them slightly to slide his tongue inside of you, alongside his fingers. You moaned loudly, moving one of your hands to his hair, holding his head for support whilst your other arm flew to rest over your eyes, your mouth was wide open, strings of loud whimpers and moans never faulting as they left your lips. 

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm nowhere near finished with you. I plan on taking my time with you" He says, his lips moving against your hole as his fingers move slowly inside and out, his tongue darting out every few words as he spoke, tasting your hole. 

"God...I'm yours" You whisper as your body shivers with excitement. You had forgotten about that loser of a guy from earlier in the evening. 

"Damn right you are. You're mine sweetheart. All mine" He spoke quietly, his eyes shut as he dives back in, his fingers began moving again at a past which made you feel dizzy. His mouth was over your clit as he sucked and licked, moaning as he tasted you. 

"Steve....oh...oh...oh my god" You moaned, becoming a moaning mess underneath him. You were shaking with pleasure as he made you come again, and again. You had a daze of happiness washing over you body as he crawled back up to you, he smirked and brought his lips down to yours, moving his wet lips against yours, you tasted yourself on him, not caring one bit. He moved one hand to cup your cheek, holding you so softly it made you feel fuzzy inside. You moved your hands to the back of his neck, holding him against you as you kissed. 

As you kissed Steve's hips rutted gently against your hip, his hard cock leaving a wet stripe of precum over your leg, you smiled into the kiss causing him to pull away and cock his head at you. 

"What's so funny?" He asks. 

"Nothing...What's...uhh your favourite position?" You asked, feeling a little bashful at the question, but after what he did to your body, you felt like he deserved his favourite position. 

"You really wanna know?" He asks, his cheeks flushing red slightly. 

"Please?"

"Well, my favourite position is usually missionary. Just being able to look at your face and see your eyes whilst I'm on top of you..." He said, almost bashfully. 

"Oh Steve, you sweetheart" You say, a soft giggle on your lips. 

Steve felt a smile on his face, he was so damn attracted to you. 

"What? Seeing your face as I'm on top of you watching your eyes as they close and your expression changes...it's quite a sight" He explains. 

"Well then, why don't we make it a reality" You say softly. 

"I was hoping you'd say that, sweetheart" He chuckles, moving slightly so he hovered over your body completely, his arms rested by the sides of your face and his cock trapped in between your stomachs. You moved your legs slightly, spreading them so he had space to slot in between them. Steve positioned himself a little, his eyes were all over your body, taking in your form as he moved a hand down to his cock, taking himself he lined himself up to your hole. 

He didn't push in yet, choosing to drag the head of his cock up and down your wet pussy a few times, causing you both to moan softly, he moved down to press his lips to yours, kissing you softly, almost savoring the touch and taste of your lips on his as he slowly pushed his cock inside of you. You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt. It wasn't an awful pain, it was one you almost welcomed, the slight twinge of pain adding to your pleasure. 

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asks, his lips still on your as he spoke, neither of your eyes opened anymore. 

"So good, keep going" You answer, your legs were pressed to his hips, holding onto him as he finally pushed his entire hard cock inside of you. You had never felt so full, but feeling his entire length was beyond amazing, he was thick, thick enough that you could feel the veins of his cock against the walls of your pussy. You clenched around him a few times, causing him to groan loudly as he kissed you, you used the moment of his groan to slide your tongue into his mouth, losing yourself into him. You nodded slightly, hoping he'd know what you had meant. You needed him to move, needed him to pound into you like there was no tomorrow. 

Steve understood your meaning, his lips stopped moving against yours slightly as he concentrated on moving his hips, he slowly dragged himself out of you, leaving just the tip, the feeling alone causing him to feel close to his edge, he then moved his cock fully back into you, a few times, just to make sure you were both completely covered in wetness. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging slightly into his skin as his hips began moving. Slowly at first, but soon he picked up the pace. 

Steve's lips moved away from yours, kissing had been forgotten regardless, you both held your open mouths together, swallowing one another's moans rather than kiss. His lips moved to your neck, resting there as he slammed his hips into yours. The only noises in the room are those of both your moans and the loud slapping of his hips against yours. 

"Steve...m'close" You whine, your legs beginning to shake. Steve, who was sucking yet another mark into your skin moved one hand in between your bodies, moving it down so he could press to fingers to your clit, he messily moved against the bundle of nerves, helping to push you over the edge. 

You moaned loudly, gripping onto his shoulders as the pleasure ripped through you body, even with closed eyes your vision went fuzzy and spotted with black dots, you giggled softly as you came down from the high, Steve had slowed his thrusts, his face lifted to look at you, a large smirk on his lips. 

"You good, sweetheart?" 

"So good" You say with a light giggle, feeling over the moon with pleasure, your legs went slack against the bed, they jolted slightly with every thrust of Steve's cock. Steve's thrusts started becoming faster, his fingers no longer on your clit, which you were thankful for, feeling close to overstimulating, both of his large hands were on you hips as he held you tightly, his fingers leaving little imprints on your skin as he used your hips to thrust into you harder. Your hands were lazily on his shoulders, you moved them over his chest, feeling his muscles in your post haze state. 

"Come Stevie, come inside of me" You whisper, your voice trailing off slightly into another moan, his cock still stretching you perfectly. 

"Are...Are you sure, sweetheart?" He asks, his hips slamming into you messily. 

"Yes, wanna feel you" You whispered, clenching your pussy against him. 

"Fu..fuck" He groaned, you giggled slightly at hearing Captain America swear, you clenched your pussy again as he thrusted into you, his movements becoming messy and sloppy as he became closer to his edge. "Gon...gonna come...fuck!" He moaned loudly, slamming his hips into you once more, letting your pussy cover his cock completely as he buries himself into you, spilling his seed deep within you, he drops his head down to your chest, his sweaty forehead connecting with the skin in between your breasts. You move your hands to his hair, holding him as he lays there, obviously catching his breath. 

"Wow" You whispered. 

"Yeah, wow" He replied, his voice quiet as he pressed a kiss to your skin. 

After a few moments, Steve slowly removed himself from you, both of you wincing from the overstimulation, he then leaves the bedroom, only emerging from the bathroom when he had a wet flannel in hand. Steve smiled sweetly down to you as he washed your lower body of his seed, he kissed along your lower stomach as he did so. 

"You did so good" He whispers. 

"I did?" You ask, smirking down at him. 

"So good, I'm glad you liked my idea" He grinned, it took you a moment to realise what idea he was talking about, suddenly remembering the real reason this had happened between you both. 

"Yeah, well I think I'll be coming to you from now on, rather than a useless guy my own age" You answer with a smirk. 

"Good, because I meant it when I said you were mine" He answers, moving forward to kiss your lips. 

And finally you ended the night how you had wanted, in the arms of a man who knew how to make you feel good. And the fact that it was Steve's arms you were in, well that was just a bonus. 

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself.)

[nightlyrequiem]

Pretty pretty please can you do a jealous Valeria x pillow princess reader <3333 love your writing btw, keeps me sane.

I indeed can!

Glad you like my writing <3 Because I also like my writing and if no one else did, it might be a little embarrasing

I think pillow princesses get too much hate. Justice for pillow princesses

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Slightly Toxic Valeria, Strap-ons, Jealous Valeria, Aftercare, Established relationship

Pillow Princess

The doors to Valeria's villa slam open.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" She snarls, dragging you inside by your arm. "Giving eyes to everyone in the room, practically begging that short bitch to bend you over the table!" You don't take her words that seriously. She's been neglecting you for weeks and you were fed up with it. So you decided to provoke her. If she wouldn't give you attention, you'd force her to.

Valeria is an incredibly territorial woman. One who guards what she owns with a jealous vigor. Her money, her drugs, her territory, and you. Unlike those other things, you are capable of walking away on your own and you've done well to remind her of that fact. Valeria talks angrily and you drown her out. Letting her pull you around as she takes off her shoes. 

"You're ungrateful." She spits. All worked up. She turns to look at you, pupils blown out. "You want other people? Is that it? Because you know damn well you won't have it as good with them as you have it with me." She snaps.

You sigh.

"You're acting crazy." You tell her.

Valeria whips her head up, glowering at you. "I'm acting crazy." She repeats, voice going dangerously flat. She storms up to and grips your arm painfully. She pulls you into the bedroom and throws you onto the bed. "I'll fuck that thought out of you." She growls. Reaching under your dress to yank down your panties. You press your face into the sheets to hide the giddy smile on your lips. Valeria doesn't even bother to undress as she straps on the harness. The cool metal of her rings presses into your skin as she grabs your hips and pushes into you. You press back against that delicious stretch, hands fisting the sheets.

You happily let her vent out her frustrations using your body. Happy to finally be getting some attention.

"You think that girl you were talking to could make you feel this way?" She snaps. Slamming her hips into yours for emphasis. You sigh laxly. Valeria grabs the back of your neck and leans down, deepening the angle inside of you. "Answer me." She  murmurs warningly.

"No." You gasp out.

"No what?" She asks.

"No, she wouldn't be able to make me feel this way." You say, arching your back for her.

Valeria strokes your neck.

"Good girl." She coos. Going at a gentler pace. She holds your hips and grinds into you in just the perfect way. 

"Say you're sorry." She demands.

"I'm sorry, Valeria." You say. Valeria rubs her hands over your hips and lower back approvingly.

"Yeah. I know you are mi amor." She sighs. "Do you think you deserve to finish?" 

You nod.

Valeria puts a hand on your back and presses you into the mattress. Doing all the work and encouraging you to enjoy it. Valeria languidly thrusts into you. Letting that stress and jealousy bleed out of her with each thrust of her hips. You lay your head down and close your eyes. Focusing on that hot feeling in your lower abdomen. Slowly building until your pushed over the edge. 

Valeria, attuned to your body enough to tell you came, doesn't stop.

"You can give me a few more." She murmurs. She pulls out and flips you onto your back. Crawling on top of you and resuming her slow pace, using your shoulders as an anchor. She rocks into you, stopping your hand when it starts towards your clit. Instead, she does that for you. Rubbing torturous circles as she fucks you lovingly.

You cum again. Then for a third time. By the fourth time you're sweaty and squirming. 

"One more, amor." She tells you. Holding your legs down and dragging her silicone cock in and out of you. You don't think you have it in you but Valeria as always manages to pull one from you with expert use of the tools at her disposal. She slowly pulls out, aware of your sensitivity and admires the creamy ring around the base.

She kisses your forehead before taking off the harness and setting it down to be cleaned later. She grabs a rag and cleans you. Appreciating the sight of your tired body. Feeling proud that she did this to you. She crawls into bed and lays down with her arm under her head. You curl up beside her. Content that you finally got her attention.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I have decided to post the Sanji vent fic. Hopefully anyone struggling with a similar problem will be able to find comfort in this.

Genuine

Yandere Sanji x Fem Reader

6.4k words

Summary: It would seem that your coworker is onto you and your eating disorder, but you never could have guessed how far he would be willing to go.

Warnings: described feminine reader, non consensual touching, yandere tendencies, drugging, kidnapping, captivity, anorexia, reader is described as being underweight, negativity and self depreciation, I wrote this for me but like y'all can read this too I guess

“Is there anything else I can get for you two?”

“N-No, that’s all,” the man at the table shot you an anxious smile while wringing his sweaty hands before refocusing his attention on the woman sitting across from him.

Taking the hint, you promptly excuse yourself with a smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help but find the couple cute, especially after the man had nervously slipped you an engagement ring to place inside the lady’s champagne flute.

It was a quiet night in the Baratie with only a sparse amount of customers dining in. That meant less tips, but since it also meant less work, and you knew better than to bemoan it too much. Busy nights were truly chaotic, so you learned quickly to appreciate when it was slow. 

With so little to do, you couldn’t help but covertly watch the table you just serviced, curiously awaiting how the woman would take to the proposal. Would she scream in joy and let out happy tears? Or would she be upset and dump the contents of the glass on her boyfriend’s head? Only time would tell.

As your gaze landed on the table, you saw that she had already fished the ring out of the glass with an awestruck look on her face. The man scrambled out of his seat and dropped to his knees beside her, clumsily swiping the ring off the fork and holding it up to her while saying words that you couldn’t quite make out from here.

Your eyes drifted to the woman. You were looking to see what her reaction was, but as per usual… your mind had other ideas.

She was gorgeous. A goddess amongst mere peasants. The way that her skillfully styled hair framed her face accentuated her every feature just as much as her perfectly applied makeup did. Not to mention that her dress was seemingly tailored to fit her stunning body just right. Anyone would feel blessed just to stand next to her. It was hardly surprising that someone would be so nervous and excited to propose to her.

What you wouldn’t give to be like her. To look like her. 

“How romantic~”

A wistful sigh next to you snaps you out of your envious thoughts. You blink a couple times and see that the woman is now out of her seat and hugging the man tightly while all but sobbing her answer. The other patrons in the dining area politely clap for the happy couple, and your body goes into autopilot to do the same.

You spare a glance to the side, regarding the person who had just spoken to you. Sanji was standing no more than a foot away while watching the spectacle before him with a dreamy expression. He meets your eyes with a gaze that felt uncomfortably intimate, causing you to look the other way again. Your reaction makes him chuckle and step closer to you, and one of his hands snakes around your waist. The sensation of his hand massaging your side made you internally cringe. If anyone else did this to you, you would slap them. But… Sanji is your boss’s son, and you don’t particularly want to go job hunting again right now.

“Don’t you think that’s romantic?” His voice cooed directly into your ear, allowing you to feel his warm breath fan across it.

Not wanting to risk showing your discomfort, you keep your answer short, “I guess…”

“You guess? Do you not think that’s sweet?” His hand settles on your hip and forces you even closer to him, much to your chagrin. Of course he’s doing whatever he can to prolong the conversation.

“It’s just… I would hate a public proposal, that’s all.” You give a partial truth, not wishing to divulge the nasty pit of envy that was the real reason behind your less than enthusiastic reaction. “I’m happy for them, don’t get me wrong, but I would be mortified if someone proposed to me this way.”

“Oh? So you would want something more private and personal? That’s good to know.” 

Without even looking at him, you could tell that he was smirking and it made you want to groan and roll your eyes, but you resisted. You cross your arms over your chest and sigh deeply, “I don’t see why any of my preferences would be good for you to know.”

Sanji pulls you in until you’re flush against his side and uses his free hand to grasp your chin and force you to look him in the eye, “But of course it’s good to know, my love. That could be us someday~”

A shiver runs down your spine and you abruptly shove him away, “You aren’t funny, Sanji.” You take several steps back and straighten your uniform, “Now get back to work and leave me alone so I can do my job.” You turn on your heel and march away from him, ignoring his protests. Fortunately, before he can give chase, Zeff pops his head out of the kitchen and yells at Sanji to get back in there.

Thank god…

You didn’t know what Sanji’s problem was, nor why he was so hung up on harassing you. As you bounce between tables and serve the customers, your mind keeps drifting back to Sanji against your will. You couldn’t stand him… but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him either. 

The first time he said his honeyed words to you, your heart skipped a beat. You had never been the kind of person to garner attention, much less of the romantic variety. There were butterflies in your stomach and fanciful daydreams in your head about the possibilities your futures held together. But… then he went and ruined it and crushed your dreams. You felt like a fucking idiot for thinking that you were anything special because as it turns out, Sanji is a chronic flirt and treats every woman he sees like this.

Those sweet words held no more significance than a “hello” or “how are you” to him, but you were stupid enough to take them at face value and fall for his words hook, line, and sinker. It was ridiculous. Doubly so because of all the women he could have, why the fuck would he want you? All you are is some pathetic, ugly, boring nobody. Of course he didn’t actually mean what he said. You would give anything for his actions to actually mean something, for him to genuinely be interested in you, but that just wasn’t the case and it never would be.

What you really didn’t get was why he kept trying after the jig was up. He should have dropped you like a bad habit after you started rebuking his efforts, sometimes quite harshly, but he didn’t give up. Why he was still playing this game with you was beyond your understanding. Maybe he was just viewing your stubbornness as a conquest. A conquer to boast about once he accomplished his goal. You didn’t know, but you were hellbent on never giving him the satisfaction.

But dwelling on such drama was hardly going to get you anywhere. The only good thing that came of your introspection was that it carried you through the first part of your shift and to your lunch break. After finishing with your last table, you allow a different waiter to take over your section while you excuse yourself to enjoy your break.

You slip into the coat room to put on your jacket and grab the thermos you packed for today, then head for the exit so you can sit in your car for the duration of your break. While the Baratie did provide a breakroom for the staff, you preferred the peace and solitude that came from spending time in your vehicle instead. Just as your fingers are wrapping around the doorknob to twist it open, a voice cuts through the air, calling your name and bringing you to a halt.

The knob creaks softly as your hand tightens around it, but you take a deep breath and release it as you turn around, “What do you want now, Sanji?”

If he could pick up on the annoyance and bitterness in your tone, he blatantly ignored it. Instead, he beamed at you and closed the distance between you two in record time, “I’m glad I caught you before you left. I packed you a lunch today!” Sanji presented you with a small box that he then pried the lid off of to show off the contents inside.

The lunch looked like one of those classic bentos that you see when you watch anime. There are several rounded onigiri molded and decorated to look like pandas staring back at you. Crammed into the remaining space are some colorful vegetables as well as a thinly sliced cutlet of some sort with a small sauce container in the middle.

This was far from the first time that Sanji tried to pass off a lunch onto you. While they did always look and smell appealing, all that you could focus on was the negatives of it. The carbs, the deep fried meat, the vegetables that were coated in what was no doubt a calorically dense sauce. There were enough calories in this single lunch to carry you through the week, you’re sure of it. Your body would give out before you could ever work all of this off. And Sanji offered you this kind of shit damn near daily. It’s like he’s trying to make you fat.

Sanji’s face falls when you don’t say anything or make an attempt to take it, “Do you not like it? I can go make you something else if you want. Just tell me what you want and I’ll go make it right now.”

His persistence makes you cringe. How many times are you going to have to shoot him down before he actually listens to you and stops trying to give you food? You force a smile onto your face and hold up your thermos, “No… it, uh, it looks great, but I already have something to eat.”

“What do you have?”

Your eye twitches as he presses on, “Soup.”

For a moment, he just stares at you. The intensity of his gaze makes you shift uncomfortably. When he puts the lid back onto the bento, you feel a rush of relief, thinking that he was finally going to drop it and leave. But then he takes a step forward, his visible eye staring into your soul as he asks another question, “What kind?”

“W… What? Excuse me?” 

“What kind of soup did you bring?”

The seriousness in his voice as he asked such a bizarre question made you laugh nervously, “What kind? What are you? The soup police?” You hope that the attempt at humor would diffuse the tense air and make him back off, but he just continues to stare at you expectantly. Your smile drops and twists into a scowl. “Why do you care? I’m just trying to take my break. Would you let me do that already?”

“... There’s just broth in there, right?” Sanji reaches inside his suit jacket for a cigarette and lights it. He takes a long drag of it, not giving a damn about the fact that he’s still in the building, “Or maybe green tea, though you usually use a different thermos for tea.”

What the fuck?

All you can do is stare at him as your blood runs cold. How did he know that? Your fingers tighten around the thermos that he correctly guessed the contents of. This was making you feel backed into a corner, and you could feel your temper starting to flare up. Why couldn't Sanji just mind his own damn business for once in his life?

“I don't see how this affects you. Just leave me the hell alone, okay? Get off my case.” Every word was spoken through clenched teeth as you tried desperately to keep from snapping at him and causing a scene. You whip around, intent on leaving so you can hide out in your car from him. 

Before you can even grab hold of the doorknob, two arms wrap around your midsection and yank you back. A startled yelp escapes you as your back collides with Sanji's chest. For a moment, you're too stunned to even speak. He's always been touchy, but he's never crossed a line like this before. Your mind scrambles to figure out how to react when you feel one of his hands drift up and start rubbing up and down your ribcage as he nestles the side of his face against your hair. 

“You're so thin… I can trace every single one of your ribs through your clothing. I know you're hungry; you have to be. Take the lunch I made for you, won't you, dear? I hate watching you waste away like this. You're breaking my heart.” His words are hushed, murmured so quietly that you doubt you would have been able to hear him had his lips not been directly next to your ear. 

The worst part of this was the way his voice cracked in the last sentence. The foolish, naive part of your brain all but sang at this, desperately wanting to believe that someone cared about you. That someone wanted to see you get better and be happy. But then your rationality kicked back in. Sanji is just a player. He's only after one thing, and you know damn well that it isn't actually your heart. As soon as he gets what he wants, you'll be forgotten like every other woman that has come and gone in his life. 

He's just playing the long con with you, and he's using some really fucked up tactics to try and win. Your lips curl into a snarl, and you spin within his hold and violently shove him away from you. Surprise flashes across his face as he stumbles and has to grab onto the coat rack to keep himself upright. 

You want to scream at him. To cuss him out and ask how dare he try to manipulate and use you like this. But as tears burn at your eyes, you quickly retreat from the confrontation and run out of the building and to the sanctity of your car, locking the doors the second you get inside. 

For a moment, all you can do is sit there in silence as you process everything that just happened. Your head drops onto the steering wheel as a quiet sob leaves your throat. Why you? Why does he insist on tormenting you? Why does he have to keep fucking with you like this? You haven't done anything to him to deserve this. It didn't make any sense as to why he was so focused on you. It's not like you're the prettiest waitress here. There are plenty of better options. Like literally anyone else. Maybe this is all one big joke to him… maybe he's just waiting for you to cave and say yes to him so he can laugh in your face for being stupid enough to think that he would ever actually want someone like you.

You wipe at your face aggressively as you lean back and reach for your phone to check the time. Much to your chagrin, ten of your thirty minutes have already been wasted. Great. You sniffle as you lift up your thermos to unscrew the lid. Then a thought strikes you.

How did Sanji know exactly what you had in here? He said it like it was just a guess, but what were the odds that it actually was? Did… Did he check it? Did he go through your locker and open your thermos? Why? What was he hoping to gain from doing that? Was he really just that nosey, or was he up to something?

Should you even be drinking this? You purse your lips and hesitate to take the lid off. What if he did something to it? Would he do something like that?

You decide to twist off the cap and look. You swirl the broth around in the thermos while scrutinizing it. It didn't look like he spit in it… and there didn't appear to be anything in there that shouldn't be…

Part of you still wanted to open the car door and dump it out regardless, but the other part was more hesitant to do that. You really didn't want to do the rest of your shift on a completely empty stomach. If it didn't have at least something in it, you knew you would get dizzy, and that's not something you can be when you're carrying trays loaded with food and drinks. Besides, it's not like you had proof that Sanji had tampered with this. Maybe it really had just been a lucky guess. 

Tentatively, you take a sip. It doesn't taste off. You sigh deeply, then take another drink of it. There you go again being paranoid. Sanji’s persistence had just put you a little on edge, that's all. You're over thinking things. 

The rest of your break is spent scrolling through your phone as you sip at your lunch. Periodically, your eyes glance up at the employee only door, half expecting to see Sanji standing there and watching you, but you fortunately never see him. You can only hope that you shoving him finally got the point across.

When your break is over, you leave your car and trudge back to the restaurant, shivering slightly in the crisp, early winter air. You pry the door open and slip inside, hanging up your coat and haphazardly tossing your now empty thermos and phone into your locker before power walking past the kitchen and into the dining room, hoping to avoid potentially catching the sous chef's eye should he not be as put off as you were hoping.

Just as you're entering the main room, your head starts to spin. Shit. The power walking was too much, wasn't it? As covertly as you can, you shrink back and lean against the wall, waiting for your vision to clear. Dizzy spells aren't anything new for you. 

Your hand comes up to rub at your eyes as you try to will yourself to recover faster. Fuck… you feel so lightheaded. Are you going to faint? It's not usually this bad at work. 

“(Y/N)? Are you feeling alright?”

The gruff voice of your boss snaps you out of your fog. You cringe as you look up and see Zeff standing in front of you with his arms crossed. Well then, this was humiliating. Having him see you slacking off right after your break was not something you wanted to happen. In an attempt to save face, you force yourself to stand up straight, “E-Everything’s fine, sir! Nothing to worry about here!”

You push yourself away from the wall, fully intending to hightail it into the dining area to try and spare yourself from his wrath, but your dizzy spell hadn’t passed at all yet. Your knees buckle and your vision swirls from the sudden movement, and the next thing you know, you fall right into Zeff. His arms uncross and his hands clamp onto your shoulders to keep you from falling to the floor. Your ears are ringing, and you can only vaguely make out what he’s saying. Something about “taking it easy”?

Through your disoriented state, you can recognize that you’re being moved, practically carried, by your boss. If you were in a better state, you’re sure that your face would be flush with shame. You can feel yourself being lowered onto a chair. Even with you now being seated, Zeff kept one hand on your shoulder to keep you upright. He turned and called out across the kitchen, “Eggplant, bring some water over here!”

Eggplant? Oh no. Not him. You try to sit up straighter and make yourself look more put together, “No, I’m okay. You don’t have to-”

“Quiet. Don’t give me any of that. You almost fainted out there, you clearly aren’t ‘okay’,” Zeff’s tone was firm and left no room for argument. 

“(Y/N) almost fainted?!” Sanji rushed over and shoved the glass of water he had into Zeff’s hand before dropping to his knees at your side. His hand clutched yours tightly as he stared into your eyes with a distraught look on his face. “My sweet (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

Any attempts to dislodge his hands prove fruitless, you can’t break his hold. You purse your lips and avert your eyes, not wanting to look at his expression that is so convincing that you almost believe it. “I said that I’m fine. I just got a little lightheaded. It’ll pass in a minute.” Despite your words, you don’t actually feel any better even though you’re sitting down and resting now.

Zeff sighs at your words and brings the glass of water to your lips for you since your hands are still locked in Sanji’s death grip. You drink the cool water, but it doesn’t feel like it’s really helping anything. He pulls the glass away and stares at you hard for a moment before speaking, “You’re taking the rest of the day off.”

“What?”

“It’s a slow night, the remaining waitstaff here will be more than enough to cover for you. I don’t want you working in this state, you’re just going to hurt yourself or one of the customers if you have another dizzy spell while you’re carrying something. Just go home and rest.” Zeff turns his head to look directly at Sanji, “Why don’t you give her a ride home?”

Panic surges through your veins, “N-No! I can drive myself home, that’s okay!”

The look that Zeff gives you is hard and makes you shut up instantly, “Don’t start. You’re going to get into an accident if you try to drive right now. Like I just said, it’s slow. We can afford to lose Sanji for the day. The kitchen will probably run smoother anyway.”

Sanji grumbles at that last comment, but for once, he doesn’t pounce at the opportunity to argue with his old man. Instead, he stands up and flashes you with a warm smile, “I’ll go pull my car up so you don’t have to walk as far. Just wait right here for me.” He leans down to kiss your hand before releasing it and leaving. You hate the way your heart fluttered at the simple display. Stupid heart falling for bullshit actions. 

While you wait, you sigh and slump back in the chair. Zeff had excused himself and exited the kitchen right after Sanji, presumably to let your coworkers know you weren’t coming back from your break today. The rest of the people in the kitchen were going about their job, but you caught a few of them sparing you concerned glances which only added to your embarrassment over the whole situation. You’re glad that you happen to have tomorrow off to help give them an extra day to forget about this ordeal.

The kitchen doors open again, and Sanji walks through them, wearing a light jacket and carrying yours. He helps you put on your coat, then pulls you to your feet. Almost immediately, your legs wobble and you instinctively latch onto him for support. What is going on with you? You’ve never had one of your dizzy spells hit you this hard. Before you can even begin to steady yourself and try again, you’re abruptly swept off your feet. The quick motion makes your head spin so much that it takes you a moment to register what is happening to you.

Mortification washes over you as you realize that Sanji just scooped you up into a bridal carry right in front of the entire kitchen. You squirm in his arms while uttering out weak protests as Sanji casually kicks open the swinging doors to the kitchen and walks out, seemingly completely unbothered by carrying you. You look up at him as your vision rapidly becomes more and more hazy. His expression is completely relaxed as if nothing is wrong. 

His apparent confidence wasn’t spread to you, however. Something about this felt… wrong. You’ve never felt like this before, and you were starting to get scared. What if this was something more serious than you previously thought? Were you having a medical emergency right now?

As Sanji is placing you into the passenger seat of his car, you grab onto his arm while he’s trying to buckle your seatbelt, “Sanji… I don’t feel good.”

The smile that had been plastered onto his face since Zeff told him to take you home softened into a warmer, more comforting smile. He finishes buckling you in and strokes your hair, “I know, but don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you.”

“N… No,” your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, making speaking even harder. “Hos… pital.”

The seat you’re in is reclined so that you’re laying down. Sanji stands up straight. You can feel that he’s looking at you, but your vision is so blurry that you can’t make out his face anymore. He doesn’t acknowledge your request to go to the hospital. He closes the door, and everything goes black before he can walk around and open his own.

—

When your consciousness begins to flow back into you, you find yourself in the warm comfort of your bed. You sigh in contentment and lazily nuzzle your face into your pillow. The cool silk of the pillowcase felt heavenly on your skin.

…

… Silk?

Didn’t you have some cheap microfiber sheets on your bed? You sniff at the pillow and frown. You know for a fact that your bedding doesn’t smell like men’s cologne and tobacco.

Your senses come back to you in an instant as you lurch up into a sitting position. Your eyes frantically take in your surroundings, and dread fills your being. You’re in a small bedroom. There are several bookshelves lining the walls. A chair with a small side table are placed near them like some sort of simple reading nook. There’s a desk against the wall opposite of you with a laptop sitting on it.

You don’t recognize this room. It isn’t yours, and this definitely isn’t a hospital.

Looking down, you take in the bed you’re in. It’s a queen size bed that’s been pushed into the corner of the room, with you being on the side closest to the wall. A body pillow is placed against the wall, keeping you separated from it. Several blankets are piled on top of you. You raise your arms to throw off the blankets, but something halts your movement. 

Your hands jerk back abruptly, making you wince as something tugs on your wrists and the headboard clangs behind you. You look down, and what you see makes your blood run cold.

Handcuffs. There are padded handcuffs locked around each of your wrists. Your eyes follow the chains all the way back to the headboard. Oh fuck. 

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck 

You’re going to die. You’re going to die here! Horror encompasses you fully as the gravity of your situation. Where even were you? And who did this? What kind of a monster could do something like this to you?

Think! Where were you before you passed out? It takes a moment for your memory to return to you but when it does, everything clicks into place. Sanji. You were in Sanji’s car. Did he do this? Sure, he could be a little sleazy, but you never took him for a kidnapper. And why you? What was his fucking obsession with you? What was he going to do to you?

No. You weren’t going to die like this. You weren’t going to let yourself be toyed with, murdered, and discarded by your sick freak of a coworker! Maybe you can break yourself free if you could just snap the wood you’re chained to. The chains connecting you to the headboard are long, permitting a wide range of motion to you. You’ll put your feet against the headboard and pull as hard as you can.

With a plan in mind, you shift to pull your legs up, but again, your movements are halted. You grab the blankets and yank them up only to reveal the very same handcuffs around your ankles. Experimentally, you pull on them. The footboard barely even budges. These chains are much shorter than the ones on your wrists, not giving you any chance to build up any sort of momentum. Just like that, your hope dies.

As you’re sitting there, completely demoralized, you take note of something else. You aren’t wearing your work clothes anymore. Instead, you’ve been dressed in a cozy pajama set. Even your regular socks have been replaced with fuzzy ones.

Shame and disgust courses through you upon realizing that you had been undressed while you were unconscious. At the same time, you couldn’t help but feel confused. It’s not like you’ve ever been kidnapped before, but this didn’t seem normal. Whenever you would hear about true crime cases covering people being abducted, you never heard about the kidnapper putting them in comfy clothes and a warm bed. 

What the hell was going on? 

You’re torn from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming towards you. Your head snaps up and you instinctively press yourself back against the headboard. Your eyes lock onto the door and you stare at it like a scared, cornered animal. Which is pretty much exactly what you are.

The door opens, and your theory as to who it was is confirmed instantly. Sanji’s smiling face enters the room, filling you with a combination of anger and fear. His grin widens even more as his eyes land on you, “Oh good, you’re awake. That’s perfect.” He hums happily and walks over to the bed with absolutely no sense of urgency. He sets a steaming bowl down on the bedside table as his eyes run over your body. “That’s no good, you’re going to get cold, sweetheart.” He calmly pulls the blankets back over you, then moves the pillows on the bed so that they’re behind your back. 

You cringe away from him as his hands brush against your back, and you snap at him, “Don’t touch me!”

Sanji’s smile droops and morphs into a pout, “Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.”

The way that he is blatantly ignoring the elephant in the room was really pissing you off. “Comfortable? Comfortable?! You know what would make me more comfortable?! Not being fucking kidnapped!” 

Your kidnapper has the audacity to sigh at you. “I’m doing this for your own good. You forced my hand. I didn’t have a choice.”

“What are you talking about?! Of course you had a choice! You could have chosen not to kidnap me!”

“You had a choice, too. It didn’t have to be this way, you know?” By now, his smile is completely gone. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and slips one into his mouth before lighting it.

His casual demeanor only further fueled your ire, “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“I said that you also had a choice,” he exhales smoke into the air. “If you would have just taken that lunch I made for you, we wouldn’t have had to take this route.”

“What?”

“If you would have eaten the lunch that I made for you, you wouldn’t have drank the broth, and you never would have gotten so dizzy that you had to go home.” You freeze as his words sink in. “We could have done things the easy way, but you’re just so stubborn, aren’t you? But that’s okay. I think that this is for the better. Now I can monitor your recovery much more closely than I could have if we were apart.”

“You drugged me…” The words are little more than a whisper.

“Don’t put it like that, you’re making me sound like a scoundrel. A predator, even! I just… gave you something to help bring us together so I can take care of you. This is what you need. You’ve made it clear that you can’t take care of yourself on your own.”

Your fists clutch at the blankets covering you as you hiss at him, “Take care of me? You’ve got a really twisted way of going about doing that. How is this helping me?”

“This is helping you because I’m going to nurse you back to health. I know that you’ve been starving yourself. Everyone can tell. You’re wasting away right before us and making everyone watch as you slowly and painfully kill yourself.” Sanji’s voice cracks and he drops his head. Your eyes drift down when you hear the quiet drip drip drip of tears falling onto the duvet. “Do you have any idea how much it’s hurt me? You’re killing me just as much as yourself.”

One of Sanji’s hands reaches out and cups your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eye again. Forcing you to fully take in the state he’s in. There is so much pain and despair in his eyes. He looks absolutely miserable. This isn’t an act. He isn’t fucking with you. He means every single word coming out of his mouth. His thumb rubbed against your cheek, just beneath your sunken eye as he holds your face just a little too tightly. He speaks again in a choked-up, desperate tone, “I love you so much, (Y/N). I don’t want to watch you die.”

All you can do is stare at him as your mind runs at a thousand miles a second to try and process all of the information being thrown at it. Wasn’t this… what you wanted? Proof that Sanji actually cared about you. That you weren’t just a conquest, but a legitimate desire. He says he loves you, and you genuinely don’t think you can argue against that, but…

Not like this. This isn’t how you wanted this to happen. You wanted a heartfelt confession, but not when you were cuffed to his bed after being drugged and kidnapped. This was insane. He was insane. And you were trapped with him.

Sanji releases your face and clears his throat as he pulls back with a forced smile, “Apologies. Look at me getting all emotional when I’m supposed to be caring for you.” He plucked the bowl off the nightstand and started to stir the mixture together. “I made some congee for you. I thought that this would be a nice and filling meal for your poor stomach.”

The mention of food made you recoil, and not just for the usual reason. You glare at Sanji and ask, “What’s in it?”

He beams at the question, “Well, I cooked the rice in a dashi broth- homemade of course- and I’ve got some salmon and-”

You interrupt him, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. What did you put in my food this time?”

Realization flashes across his face and he sags, “It’s just food, my love. I promise that I won’t drug you again. I just had to do it that one time so I could get you here.”

“Do you expect me to believe that? To trust you after what you’ve done?”

“Please, (Y/N), you have to believe me. Did you not hear everything I just said? I’m doing this for your own good. I can’t help you get better if you’re unconscious the whole time. Just calm down and let me feed you before your food gets cold.” While he started off sounding sweet and pleading, his voice became progressively more firm as he went on. With a quiet huff, he sits down on the empty bed space next to you and scoops out a spoonful of the rice porridge.

Terrified of being drugged and vulnerable again, your hand swipes at him, just barely missing the spoon as he jerks back. Surprise flashes across his face, but quickly morphs into a scowl. He drops the spoon back into the bowl, then grabs your face again. You start to struggle, but you’re no match for his strength in your current state.

“Stop.” The one word is spoken with so much force that it actually makes you stop and stare at him with wide eyes. He sighs deeply and his teeth grind against his cigarette as he makes himself calm down. “(Y/N). My dear, sweet (Y/N). I went out of my way to give you handcuffs that were long enough for you to move around for your comfort, but if you try to stop me from feeding you again, I’m going to change them out for much shorter ones that won’t let you move at all. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head and cower back. 

“Good. I don’t want that either. Now say ‘ah’ for me, alright?” Just like that, he switches again, sweetly crooning at you as he brings the spoon back to your lips. 

As much as you don’t want to eat it… you don’t want to be even more restricted than you already are. Hesitantly, you open your mouth. Sanji’s smile widens as he quickly pushes the spoon past your lips. The savory porridge fills your mouth and, admittedly, tastes divine. It’s the best thing you’ve had in months… maybe even years.

You carefully chew, then swallow it. The voice in the back of your head is going crazy, screaming over all of the carbs and fat in that one single bite. But before you can dwell on it too much, another spoonful is brought to your lips. Your eyes flit up to Sanji who is looking at you with an expectant smile. 

Well… you suppose that your food intake is no longer in your power. You have to eat if you want to keep Sanji happy and passive. You open your mouth again.

“Good, there’s my good girl.” Sanji looks happier than you think you’ve ever seen him. His smile lacks the playful edge it usually has to it, and his normally aloof eyes are relaxed in a way that makes him look almost soft despite the situation. “I know that you’re upset, and I understand that. This is all very shocking to you, but one day, you’re going to thank me for this. I guarantee it.”

“Honestly, you should have seen this coming. At the Baratie, we feed everyone who is hungry. Even if they don’t necessarily want us to.”

[wingedshadowfan]

A loving relationship where she was struck by caitlyn's rifle without hesitation when she didnt want a child to witness/ get accidently shot. Vi's identity/ past trauma with prison and enforcers put in the back burner just for her to reclaim by going down on her knees after self harming in the very same cell moments before. Clearly she is not in a right state of mind.

thanks for the ask!

i'm not sure if your problem is w/ what i said, w/ what caitlyn and/or vi did, w/ caitvi as a concept or w/ the choices of the writers of arcane - i am just a fan who agrees w/ their vision in this specific regard and i obv have no control over their work, but let me address this piece by piece anyway:

"she was struck by caitlyn's rifle without hesitation when she didn't want a child to witness/get accidentally shot" is true but it's also ignoring the larger context of what happened and why it happened, which i've discussed before, but many others i've interacted w/ on here have as well, perhaps even more extensively, but the short answer: caitlyn was very much not in her right mind either. she hallucinated jinx before that, she fought sevika for her life, she was in an extremely high pressure situation and didn't seem to be registering what vi was telling her (vi was also abt to get her brains blown out by isha) before she physically interfered, the vents almost blew them away, and ofc let's not forget jinx is a thing of caitlyn's nightmares. we can clearly see caitlyn repeatedly hit the wall w/ her rifle and put her forehead to it after the fight is over?? is that normal headspace behavior to you? she tries to leave and remove herself from the argument w/ vi (in which vi likens her to her mother(and coworlers)'s killer and her torturer), vi catches her arm to stop her, and that's when caitlyn snaps and hits her - literal fight or flight (for the vi defenders: you may also see how this mirrors what happened between vi and powder, and perhaps even between vander and silco if you think age should've been a factor in these circumstances, and not trauma triggered by/mixed in w/ intense emotions)

"vi's identity/past trauma with prison and enforcers put in the back burner just for her to reclaim [by having lesbian sex in a prison cell]" this isn't jinx hate but who locked vi in that cell again, bcuz i thought your issue was w/ caitvi's loving relationship? how is the sex scene happening in the prison cell caitlyn's fault or her choice when vi clearly initiates it and remains in the cell after caitlyn unlocked it? not to mention this happening there is symbolical to their first meeting and a metaphor for how vi has always been caged by the identity of the protector until she was let out by the only person she loved that she never had to protect/feel that same responsibility for. furthermore, vi doesn't talk abt her prison trauma and the first person she opens up to abt her past who actually listens and gives her compassion is caitlyn. close enough. caitlyn who, at her lowest as commander, forbids the use of the kind of cell vi was kept in. besides, i don't know what you wanted caitlyn to do differently in that moment: she came, she unlocked the door, she noticed vi's knuckles, she walked in and stood next to vi, she tried to make a joke to distract vi from her self-deprecating spiral (and in doing so she basically admitted how well she knows vi, that she accepts her the way she is, and how much her actions were motivated by her love for her), she clearly didn't expect vi to forgive her, let alone decide to kiss her right there, in that moment so it's not like she planned it to or had a say in the circumstances. and yes, perhaps vi reclaimed something, be it her prison trauma or her ability to make choices for herself and put her own needs first, for once without running after others to protect them and take responsibility for their actions

"going down on her knees" there's not many other ways to give oral to a woman standing up without anything to sit/lie down on and if you see pleasing your partner (not just by choice, but eagerly even) this way as inherently demeaning, degrading or "dirty work" that puts you below your partner in your power dynamics, then irdk what to tell you other than maybe get checked for misogyny and/or lesbophobia?? (a post abt this here)

"after self harming in the very same cell moments before" why do you think she self harmed? she basically had only two people left: she thought she'd lost jinx (that she'd ran away like before and didn't want to be found bcuz she didn't want to help, not necessarily that she was going to off herself) and that she'd lost caitlyn by letting jinx out - vi says very clearly exactly what she's blaming herself for, and when caitlyn unlocks the cell, she walks in with vi. ofc caitlyn doesn't have any prison trauma, but this is a very clear show-not-tell that she believes her place is next to vi if that's what vi wants. and she proceeds to (imo by making a bad joke that she believes is funny lol) tell vi that she facilitated vi's choice to free jinx, aka that she implicitly trusted vi and her judgement, that she understood and accepted that vi would keep choosing family, that she was ready to let go of her revenge and atone for her mistakes - and we can see the effect of this realization on vi's face in real time. vi realizes she hasn't lost everyone, she still has caitlyn, the old caitlyn - from before her trauma, anger and grief swallowed her

"clearly she is not in a right state of mind" much can be said abt whether she was or not bcuz she'd been stabbed so badly it took 3 doctors to patch her up and i assume she'd been in a coma/asleep for at least a few days, jinx had just locked her in a cell and ran away again (traumatic on multiple levels), she thought she'd lost caitlyn too, that she was only there to goad her and say she told her so, etc (caitlyn has been consistently defying vi's expectations since they first met lol) and i can argue that what caitlyn did and told her neutralized/put many of those factors into perspective for her but even if you don't care for my analysis on why what vi did was in character and not a moment of insanity (albeit maybe impulse): vi stayed. she could've left forever if she'd realized she'd just been impulsive or high off her meds or whatever during the prison scene and she didn't actually love caitlyn or want to stay w/ her. but she was there w/ mel, jayce and caitlyn during battle strategizing, she fought in the war, and remained next to caitlyn in the aftermath. i think that's a loving relationship??

[aliensupastar]

not wrong, but not right

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.

Part II Part III

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?

A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3

All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 

Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 

You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 

“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.

“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 

You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 

Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 

“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”

“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 

Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 

When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.

It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 

You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 

Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 

Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 

When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 

“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 

“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”

You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 

“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 

“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.

It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 

You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 

When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 

You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 

Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 

“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 

The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 

Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.

You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 

You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 

“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 

“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.

“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 

“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.

“Because-“ 

“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 

You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 

“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  

“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 

You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 

“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.

“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 

“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 

He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 

“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 

He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 

“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. 

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 

You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 

“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 

“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 

“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 

“I’m okay with that.”

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can I please request Older! Eddie x Harrington/Hargrove! Reader that’s angst to fluff? Maybe they met at a bar where reader went after a fight with his dad and she didn’t like Eddie at first and was kinda mean to him, but then, she realized he’s actually a good guy and started dating (maybe Reader has daddy issues?? You can also add more about her relationship with her dad!)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Daddy issues

Y/N and her dad butt heads a lot. Her mom likes to say it's because they are the same person, both hotheads. Billy had a massive short temper and he passed that to his daughter. Now he knew what it was like to fight with himself.

Y/N sighed as she sat at the bar. Her head pounded from all the screaming that happened just minutes ago. She ordered a drink and patiently waited for the bartender to make it.

"Rough night?" A voice next to her asked

She rolled her eyes and turned her head. The stranger was attractive, but she was not in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Yes" She kept her answer short and her tone sharp

The drink was placed before her, and she sipped on the strong liquor. She closed her eyes as the drink traveled and released her stress.

"Want to talk about it?" the stranger asked

"Talk about my daddy issues with a strange man? Yeah no thanks." she scoffed, taking another sip. She kept her face straight forward.

"I know more about daddy issues than you think"

She turned her head, eyes slint into a glare. "How old are you?" He didn't look old, but he didn't look that young either. His eyes were mature, his cheeks and jaw covered in a scruffy beard. He seemed to have long hair, but it was pulled back in a low bun. His hands were stained dirty, she figured he had a hands-on job.

"Forty," He said as he sipped his beer

She had to admit he was damn hot for being older

"You are forty, here alone and trying to give advice to a twenty-something-year-old about daddy issues, yeah. You seem like the perfect person to get advice from." She scoffed

The stranger just chuckled to himself

"Bitchy aren't ya?" He said, a smirk on his face that Y/N found attractive

"Sorry, rough night." She mumbled a small smile sent his way

"Eddie," he said as he held out his hand

She raised an eyebrow at his hand and laughed a little. "Handshake? You are old" but she placed her hand in his and her name on her lips.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he said, and Y/N loved the way her name sounded on his tongue.

For the rest of her drink, she vented about her fight with her dad. Eddie listened and actually listened. She realized how nice it felt to talk to someone who wasn't her mom, someone who wouldn't stand up for her dad. Eddie agreed and stood up for her, and she liked that.

She bid goodbye as she paid the bartender. But Eddie was on her mind all night.

~~~

She waited two days before she went back to the bar. This time, no fight with her dad. She simply wanted to see if Eddie would be there.

She walked in, disappointed when he wasn't anywhere to be seen. She was here so she figured she might as well get a drink.

She sat at the same spot she did when she met him. She ordered the same drink and watched the crowd.

"Back again? What did he do this time?"

She smiled when she heard his voice, his warm body sat next to hers.

"Nah, just wanted to be out of the house" she lied, a friendly smile on her face as she turned to look at him. This time his hair was down, landing a little past his shoulders. He wore a flannel that did wonders to his arms and dark jeans.

"Do you come here often?" She asked, immediately cringing at how it sounded like a horrible pickup line.

He smirked and chuckled at the question

"I didn't mean it like that!" She defended, "Just like how common is it for you to be here?"

"Ah right right," he said as he winked. She felt her face blush as he quickly ordered his drink with his eyes still on her. "I do come here pretty often."

She hated how excited that made her. And how her brain was already planning to come here every week to see a glimpse of him.

"Good to know" she flirted, a small smirk of her own before it disappeared behind her glass

Eddie felt like he was back in high school with a crush on a pretty popular girl. He smiled towards the counter before he sipped on his beer.

"Which is how I know you don't come here often. Does this place make a good impression?" He asked. He was more than glad to walk through the doors and see her sitting there. He cursed himself all night last time for not getting her number.

"Not quite the place, but someone," she said, shyly looking towards him. She wasn't sure where the top-notch flirting skills came from, probably in her blood from her father. But damn was she glad it seemed to work.

Throughout the night Eddie's body got closer and closer. They practically were sitting on the same stool by the end of the night. She stopped after the one drink, knowing she needed to drive home. But she felt so drunk the harder he made her laugh.

"You have a pretty laugh" he complimented, his eyes soft as he took in her face

"Oh thank you" she blushed under the bar lights. "You are pretty in general" she blabbed out.

She closed her eyes in embarrassment as he laughed. Standing up, but still between his legs. Maybe she wasn't as good as her dad was with this flirting thing.

"I am honored that the pretty girl thinks I'm pretty. I don't think I've ever been called that before." He admitted, he made the next move and slipped his arms around her waist.

She felt her heart speed up as she nervously looked at him. She swallowed her nerves and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're welcome" she whispered, her breath caught in her throat as her face was so close to his. She could smell the beer on his breath and the wetness on his lips was calling to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, his eyes dancing between her eyes and lips.

She nodded, not sure if she could trust her voice

"Can I kiss you?"

Did she want her first kiss with Eddie to be in a dingy bar? Hell yeah, she didn't care where it was. Just as long as she tasted his lips and tongue.

She didn't answer, just leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He moaned at the force and kissed her back. He melted from the confidence she had as she tangled her hand in his hair and kissed him hard.

Now he felt like a middle schooler having his first kiss. The way she knocked the air out of his lungs, butterflies flying in his damn stomach. He kissed her back, squeezing her hips as he tried to gain control of the kiss.

He swiped his tongue across her bottom lip, smiling to himself as she opened her mouth. His tongue slipped inside her warm mouth, he could taste her fruity drink as their tongues worked against each other.

Y/n felt like she was standing on fire, a burning feeling from her toes up to her head. Her knees felt weak as a chill ran down her spine. His hand moved down from her hips to cup her ass. She moaned as he massaged her through her jeans.

She pulled away, panting as she gazed into his eyes. She wanted more but needed to pull away before they got carried away in the public eye.

"Thank god your dad is an asshole," Eddie joked, trying to seem like that kiss didn't take him to another world.

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, wanna get out of here? Your place, where we can be alone," she whispered, teasing his lips as hers rested right above his.

"Absolutely" he smiled cheekily, grabbing her hand and walking them out of the bar.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[kibbles-bits]

Question, what DOES Val find attractive about Vox?

I'm going to assume this is for the Heaven's Best AU because I… wouldn't know the answer to the canon one? (though Val's audition sheet including the information of sleeping only "with 10's… and Vox" means he likes Vox and doesn't consider him actually attractive. Love it. Hilarious.)

So, what does Valentino in Heaven's Best find attractive about Vox?

His personality and he's mad about it.

That's the short answer! The rest of this is just me yapping.

He finds other things attractive soon afterwards but it's the personality and character traits that got him and he won't admit it.

Canon!Val wouldn't like HB!Vox, but HB!Val is a little different.

He can not relax.

With no partners, Val's had to lean on his more violent traits to keep control of his territory so there wasn't much time to relax. If he wanted to go out he always has to keep an eye out for other demons who might try to attack him and he's lived like that for most of his years in Hell.

He allies with and eventually befriends Velvette - which is still a recent development. Fear for Velvette's safety plus preserving his delicate new image she's built for him means he can't be as violent as he was before which stresses him out a lot. He can't really bring himself to trust anyone else.

So that's where he's at when Vox joins the picture.

Seeing the Exorcists being killed on TV was something he found interesting - it made them feel more like people he can have sex with so color him interested when he hears two angelic beings have moved down to hell. He means to proposition one politely, whichever one he runs into first. He knows he can't force it. Not only is Vox an angel and naturally more powerful, but he's allied with a seraphim and the rulers of Hell. Val talks shit but he's not going to risk their wrath, especially when whatever happens to him will, by extension, affect Velvette. He's not immediately physically attracted to Vox so after failing to make a deal, he lets him leave without any trouble. A little miffed about how it went, though.

Later, when Vox has his Oopsie, Val tries to make him feel better about it. Some of it is because seeing an angel have a breakdown sits wrong with him, but the rest of it is because he wants to see how much use he can get out of Vox now that he's so delicate. Maybe get him to kick Angel out of the hotel. He has blackmail, after all. How would Emily react to her BFF going on a little murder spree?

Except before Val can even hint at the blackmail, Vox threatens him first the moment they're alone in Val's home. Which is bold, considering Val just saw how 'well' he took his first murders. But then a murderer is a murderer and Vox is distraught, who knows what he'll do? Val decides provoking him isn't worth it and just… let's him vent it out. And it turns out he's kinda hot in a weird way when he's venting and when he grabs him and demeans him and--

ANYWAY Val promises not to tell a soul what happened.

And Vox imprints on him? Weirdly? He doesn't understand why (yet) but as long as Valentino doesn't intentionally harm him or Emily, Vox is a pretty amiable guy. He won't smite him for fun and he minds his own business. Doesn't try to tell him how awful he is. He says how much better he is than Val, yet is still the one following him around so Val just finds that funny rather than offensive. It's cute, how dumb he is sometimes.

The two eventually sleep together.

Vox isn't a Sinner, he has no interest in Val's power or territory, he doesn't even live in Hell, he hates it there. So Val doesn't have to worry about any 'power grabs' or Vox trying to take advantage of him. He can't push Vox around (Vox pushes back HARD) and also doesn't feel too threatened by him. Val finds out it takes a lot to actually push Vox into committing another Oopsie, so much he doesn't actually see it happen again for a long time. Vox doesn't interfere with his treatment of Angel so, the blackmail? Unnecessary. He starts to trust Vox not to hurt him.

As a Winner who's been in Heaven for like, 50 years, Vox is naturally more friendly than anyone Val's ever personally met in Hell. He's also more eager to just hang out (did you think I was joking?) Vox keeps blabbering to him about all kinds of things and venting and Val actually likes??? what he has to say??? He gets to know Vox very well - what he's really like and things he hasn't told others. Having another person, someone he doesn't own and isn't manipulating, an equal, trust him does things to him (Gee, Val, how come Eternal Damnation let you have TWO friends?)

Vox earns his trust completely one day when he helps him in a territory dispute that had nothing to do with him. Apparently, Vox has been watching him for a long time when he's not with him. People would find that creepy, but Val knows Vox and, yeah, it is, but he likes it because it means Vox cares. And he likes knowing Vox will have his back.

Val is, finally, able to relax when they're together (publicly and privately), and he really values that.

But if you ask him he'd say he's attracted to Vox's screen brightness or his stupid little sweater vest.

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense. 

[lorre-verie]

heyyyy there, how are you? was just thinkinggg 😝🧟 ---

may I please request an enemies to lovers ao'nung x fem!metkayina!reader fic where reader ventures out beyond the reef with bestie tsireya in their rarely found free time in order to decompress from their stressful routines --- evident in readers duties of teaching the young many things like weaving and breathing, helping ronal collect medicinal resources, and tsireya being tsakarem. reader vents about ao'nung being a pain and how hard she's pining for him regardless and tsireya, being all knowing, tries to hint to reader about ao'nungs feelings. some more banter before reya rushes off to meet with lo'ak for their date. not long after tsireya leaves, readers gets attacked and badly injured in the leg by something (I can't think of anything 💀) and rushes back to awa'atlu riding an ilu, bleeding out, where ao'nung (previously training) takes notice of her limping out of the water barely conscious. ao'nung rushes to her, reader collapsing in his arms, ao'nung delivering a cutsie little panicked "don't worry, im not gonna let anything to happen to you, 'm gonna take care of you" just before readers loses consciousness 😝😝😝😝 perhaps some cutie fluffy tearful confessions after she wakes in ronals healing marui

“Living, breathing, nightmare.”

word count: 4.4k

pairings: aonung x fem!metkayina!reader 

author notes:  - the prompt IS enemies to lovers so i decided to make it a HEAAVY emphasis on the enemies part of that (😏), so this is gonna be a wild ass ride. love you for this request, thanks for bringing me back onto this platform, anon! - 2nd person (love it too much) - NO you are not short you’re a little taller than tsireya but aonung is just a tall mf

masterlist

“So, they hate each other?” Ewie asked curiously, her curiosity piqued as her gaze remained fixed on the two na’vi bickering aways from her and the tsakarem-to-be of her clan.

“...Not exactly,” Tsireya answered, grimacing.

She sighed, patting the little one’s back, who stood there confused and still staring, eyes wide as seashells. Tsireya knelt down on one knee atop the damp, warm sand, offering the little girl a reassuring smile as she reached out to place her hand to Ewie’s shoulder, encouraging her to meet Tsireya’s gaze. “Why don’t you go on and play with your friends now, Ewie? You can resume your lessons with [name] tomorrow,” she said softly, promptly turning her head to smile at Ewie’s friends who ran wildly across the coast, screaming and jumping joyously.

The little girl’s eyes brightened as she looked at her group of friends, one of the boys in particular waving her over to join. She let out a small excited squeal, her mind now totally torn away from the sight of you and aonung, running to join them. Tsireya smiled as she watched Ewie scamper away, leaving only the older girl and the ocean in her wake. For Tsireya, now was one of the calm moments that no one could take away from her. 

She inhaled, the ocean breeze carrying a freshness that was tinged with the ancient salt of countless tides. Its age-old whispers danced through the air, brushing against her skin with a coolness that– if she concentrated enough, she could almost hear….yes…Eyw-

“You are an ABSOLUTE NIGHTMARE!” Your voice pierced through her thoughts, her ears flattening as she winced.

She whipped her head around to look at you and aonung in what seemed to be a private, yet full-blown war between the two of you, Aonung laughing in your face as you gave him a piece of your mind.

She let out a breath to calm herself. Happy thoughts…happy thoughts…she repeated in her mind as to not kick both you and her older brother in the back of the knees. 

“Yet I still show up in your dreams every night, eh?” he smirked even wider at you (if that was even possible).

To that, you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream, cry, cringe, throw up, or shove a kick so far up his ass he would never be able to talk out of it again. 

So you just stared at him silently, your silent screams bouncing off the insides of your body.

He towered over you, seemingly amused by your lack of response. 

You hated that. Why did Eywa give the males the unfair advantage in vertical length? (the answer is cause they need it boo or else they’d cry themselves to sleep every night) If you wanted to meet his eyes you would have to give yourself a strained neck, compared to all the other boys your age.

“You…wish.” you said, internally groaning at the less-than-satisfactory response you gave him. 

Should’ve been something kickass like “yeah, the haunting presence of your mediocrity,” but of course you’d only think about something like that far later, when it was way too late.

Tsireya walked towards the two of you, making sure to sigh mentally instead of in real life, bracing herself for whatever outlandish thing you two were bickering about now.

“Ah, sister, how kind of you to join us!” aonung raised his eyebrows slightly, “Would you kindly tell your friend here that she would absolutely not hold up in a battle between her and an Akula?” 

Before Tsireya could even open her mouth, you scoffed. 

“That is not what I said!” you seethed, crossing your arms. He had this tactic of taking whatever you were saying and twisting it so that he’d seem in the right at all times.

“I only said that I’ve been training for it, and I think that I could handle it! And also, that wasn’t even your conversation to listen in on!” and you didn’t want to admit that you were just trying to make yourself seem the teeniest bit more impressive to one of the younger kids you were teaching. In moderation of course!

*record scratch* (for all my lovely readers who’ve no idea/don’t remember what an akula is, that's the scary 3 jawed monster that practically almost killed our boy lo’ak. but that hasn't happened yet in this story)

Tsireya contained her urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, instead resorting to pinching aonung’s wrist, earning a ‘hey!’ from the metkayina while you smirked, satisfied with her response which was clearly a ‘i-don't-want-to-get-into-detail-about-the-topic-of-conversation-but-my-brother-is-incredibly-annoying-and-i-know-that-so-i’ll-just-do-this’ stance, but hey, at least it humbled the gargantuan himbo in front of you, even if by the smallest bit.

“[Name], how about we just get going?” she said, her hand rested on your shoulder, looking at you with an awkward smile.

“Great idea,” you smiled at her, willing to do anything to get away from the disproportionate frog. 

Before you could even take a step away, he obviously had to get in his bit.

“Hey wait, where are you two going?” he looked at you both, confusedly.

This was strange for 1 reason.

Why the hell does he care??? He never cared before, so why does he care now???

You turned your head and gave him an annoyed look, while Reya, ever the peacekeeper, answered his question for you. 

“We’re going beyond the reef. We want to see if we can catch a glimpse of the nrr payoang migrating for the season.” she said.

And even though she was the one who answered, he kept his eyes fixated on you for a solid extra few seconds, before finally switching to her. What in the motherfu-

“It’s optimal timing. Plus, this is one of the rare occasions where me and [name] are both free at the same time.” she said, smiling brightly. “It must be Eywa clearing the path for us.”

Right then, he smirked. 

Oh no. 

He was going to say something else to keep your blood above a healthy pressure, wasn’t he?

He looked at you again, and you felt your muscles tense. His mouth opened– no– here it comes– mayday, mayday!

BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!

“I also happen to be free. Can I come along?” 

You felt yourself die.

“NO!” you said a little bit too suddenly. “Go find some other people to bother!” you turned on your heel and stomped away from the situation before he could burden your mind further, grumbling at the sheer audacity.

“He literally insulted my capability of surviving like any normal metkayina could, and then he wants to “cOmE AlOnG?” Forget it!” you pressed a wrist into your left eye, trying to rid it of the image of the colossal amphibian as you rode on the ilu with Tsireya by your side, who was dipping gracefully above and below the water on her own ilu.

She emerged from the cerulean blue waves, her hair carrying beads of water in them, before she turned to look at you, back straightening.

“I think he just wanted to spend more time with you, you know.” she suggested, trying her damndest to hint to you what everyone else except literally the two of you could see. 

“Ha! As if! The last time I tried to ask him something, he said “don’t talk to me, my people might think that we’re friends.” Like what? Who says that? WHY would he say that?” you started, your ramble being nothing new to your best friend, who only sighed as she dipped a hand into the water as her ilu moved her through it.

Together, you headed to the point where the glowing fish were most spotted, waiting above the water for any signs of movement as you continued on.

“And I do not like him at all, despite what that skxawng Neteyam might say. He’s annoying, loud, obnoxious, and the way he carries himself differently when I’m in the vicinity is dumb. Almost like he’s trying to make himself seem better than me! Who does he think he is, puffing his chest out like a-” hold on.

You went silent, backtracking. 

Everytime Aonung noticed you were near, he stood up straighter than usual.

Your mind thought back to all those little moments in flashes. During training, at your cousin's coming-of-age ceremony, the harvest celebration, and today.

He constantly looks at you even if there are others around, but if you look back at him (more like glare), he looks away immediately. 

He always initiates the conversation first, even if there’s nothing to talk about.

Okay hold on [name], none of this necessarily means that he likes you.

And then, your whole world came to a stop. You swear even the wind became silent, leaving only you and the sounds of the cool ocean water rippling against your body, the evening painting a blur of pinks and oranges in the sky.

As if she knew every bit of the revelation you just had, Tsireya, who was a little ways in front of you, turned her head, looking at the blank expression on your face.

Am I the one that likes him? you thought to yourself.

No. It couldn’t be. There was no way, no possible way, that this was happening.

“Reya?” you blurted out, your body (and your stupid mouth) acting on instinct.

I mean, she was your best friend. Obviously best friends have to tell each other about their crushes, right?

“I think I like-” you stopped yourself short as you looked at her face. 

Her face, which was trying to hold back a smirk.

“Yes, [name]? Do continue?” she said, her tone a lot more singsong than you’d like it to be.

Perhaps telling your best friend that you had a crush on her literal BROTHER wasn’t the best course of action.

Fuuuuuuuuu–

“You know, if you like him, it’s totally alright with me.” she said, shrugging as she turned her head back to the front, smiling as she knew exactly what you’d say next.

“WHAT??” you screamed, startling your ilu, to which you whispered rushed apologies, soothing the back of its neck. 

“I’m just happy you’ve finally realised it.” she said, still not turning back, acting as if this was the most normal conversation to have.

“Wha? Who???” you asked, suddenly getting the idea she was having the wrong idea.

“Neteyam.” she said, her tone sarcastic, but unfortunately you were too startled to catch on.

“Hah! You’re wrong, I do not like him.” you said, silently revelling in the relief that she didn’t catch on.

Oh [name]. Sweet, oblivious, [name].

“Yeah I know, that’s why you have a crush on my brother.” 

To that, you completely stopped in your tracks, jaw slack open. She’s done it. She’s broken you.

She finally turned around, guiding her ilu to the left so as to block your track. 

“He likes you too. And I think you know that already.” she smiled, narrowing her eyes mischievously.

‘For the love of all things good and beautiful, why was this happening to me?’ you screamed on the inside, not wanting to relent.

Okay, if you were denying it, then maybe you actually didn’t like him! Right??

Yeah. That was it. You were giving yourself the delusion of liking him, because he’s the one that liked you first and you felt bad for him, and that’s why you were only considering liking him back.

Wait, does he even like me? What??

“Okay, no, that’s not what I-” and just as you were starting to deny everything, because that was 100% the truth, Tsireya waved you off as she submerged her head in the water, already off her ilu. 

You quickly realised what you were here for in the first place, hopping off and following suit, taking a deep breath before you dipped your head below the cool waves.

Deep below the two of you on the surface, you could see hundreds of bioluminescent jellyfish wading in one path, weaving through the floating rocks and plants, the vividness of the glowing colours acting as if a kaleidoscope in your vision.

You had to pull your head out from the water to take another breath, using your hand to push away some of your hair that decided to stick itself onto your face. You were absolutely stunned at the beautiful sight. It took your breath away, literally.

Dipping your head below the surface of the water once more, you decided with Tsireya to take a closer look. You dove your body forwards into the water, Reya following closely behind. 

It was quickly becoming darker, night was falling and you knew it was time to turn back, but the jellyfish illuminated your surroundings almost mesmerizingly, as if pulling you into a beautiful vortex. 

You hid your body behind a set of rocks, watching the jellyfish swim in their little path, smiling as you watched a small one lag behind the others before a bigger one pushed it forward, practically propelling it through the water as it sputtered around before finding its place again.

Tsireya, who was a little bit above you in the water, turned and dipped her body downwards to touch your shoulder, to signal that it was time to return to the surface and go home before it got too dark.

Her hand was a mere millimetre away from you when a sudden jolt of agony rips through your leg. It's as if a thousand needles pierce your flesh all at once, and panic surges, rising through your veins like wildfire.

Instinctively, you kick and thrash, but the unseen assailant's grip tightens like a vise, dragging you mercilessly downward. Darkness engulfs your senses and you're plunged into a void, robbed of sight and hearing, your lungs screaming for air..

You can’t even see Tsireya anymore, nor the prismatic glow of the jellies.

Bubbles erupt from your lips in frantic bursts, mingling with the surrounding darkness, further obscuring your already impaired vision. Each gasp for air feels like a futile struggle against the inevitable, your chest burning with the agonising need for oxygen. What is this? What is this that’s grabbing you? What is happening? The questions flood your mind and sear the corners of your vision as you're dragged deeper, darkness enveloping you fully. 

With each passing second, your panic intensifies. You can't tell which way is up anymore. The ocean presses in around you, a suffocating weight. It’s still pulling you down.

Down…

..down…

and down…

In a last, thoughtless attempt, you reach out, fingers stretching toward the abyssal void, but there's nothing to grasp onto, nothing to anchor you in this sea of darkness. Panic tightens its grip around your throat, threatening to choke the life from your trembling body.

Desperation claws at your soul, pounding on your chest, as you realise the seconds are slipping away. Any moment now, and you’ll be dead. Any moment now, and everything you yourself have worked for, would be gone. You let yourself close your eyes. Maybe because of the weight of the void pushing onto your body, or maybe you’re tired from fighting this thing around your leg for Eywa knows how long. When you outstretched your hand you hoped that someone, anyone would pull you out of this..nothingness. You wanted it so badly you almost thought that he would. That he’d save you.

Your body jolts awake, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar place. 

The cool, steady flow of the breeze unnerves you. It’s the first thing you notice besides the wild racing of your heart in your chest, your head whipping around in this empty space, trying to ascertain where you are. Is this Eywa? The place feels like a void, but it’s far different from the blackened one that suffocated your being. It feels calm. Peaceful. You can see the dark purple sky above you, glittering with stars and moons that you’ve never even seen about it. But it looks… strange. 

Otherworldly. Like it is impossibly distant, yet so close to you at the same time. You kneel in an extraordinarily shallow pool of cool water, the surface reflecting the celestial display above you. Though it is rather shallow, like a puddle almost, it stretches endlessly into the horizon as far as your eyes can see it. As you look around, time seems to stand perfectly still. 

It’s unnerving. Realising that you can, in fact, move your desensitised limbs, you slowly get up, your feet creating small ripples in the water. “Hello?” you call out. 

Nothing except your own echo responds to you. Just then, you hear something in the distance. Like someone’s there, in the hazed distance. They’re close to you, then they’re unimaginably far away. What is that? “[Name]!” It’s calling out your name. How do you respond? A. Call out for help

B. Cry C. Curl up into a ball and give up D. Walk towards the source Just kidding, you don’t have a choice. As if your legs had minds of their own, you start walking towards the source. You can’t quite make out that voice. It changes every time you hear it, showing up in intervals of about 5-8 seconds of space in between. “[Name]?” Gosh, and the change in tone too. It’s filled with fear, then anger, then happiness, then…huh? “[Name]... I’m so sorry.” Sadness. The voice is filled with a type of sadness that almost stabs your chest. Regret. Guilt. So many emotions in this strangely familiar, choked-out voice. The voice continues sobbing, sniffling, but then it stops. Leaving you whipping around in the darkness, unsure of where to go. You turn around, then you slam face first into something really tough. “What the fuc-” your voice rings out, angered, in the void. Rubbing your nose, you look up. “What the fuck?” you whisper. It’s Aonung. 

How delightful. But seriously, how de-fucking-lightful? Finally, another person in this endless, pitch black space of darkness. You almost want to scream. Of horror or joy, you’re not exactly sure, but you contain yourself, mostly due to the fact that he’s looking at you.

And he’s crying. Tears stream down his cheeks as he looks at you— actually, not quite you. His eyes aren’t exactly focused on yours, but they’re focused on…you. If that makes any sense at all. “Please wake up…” he croaks out. 

And that voice! It was him. That depressing, bleak voice from before that was calling out your name. It was him. But why? And how? 

You’re about to do something but then your heart jolts in your chest because he’s lifting up his right hand and cupping your cheek softly. Gently. Like the real Aonung would never do. This is some sick hallucination isn’t it? Oh gosh you actually went to hell, didn’t you? Before you realise it, he uses his thumb to wipe away a tear that somehow appeared on your face. You’re not crying. So what is this? What’s going o– NO. He’s leaning in. WHY IS HE LEANING IN? Fuck all “[NAME], DO SOMETHING!! YOU STUPID-” you scream at yourself, fighting your inanimate body. WHY COULDN’T YOU FUCKING MO- *SLLAAAAAPPPPPP!!!*Now you’re scrambling to your feet on what you realise to be the sickbed of Ronal’s healing tent, your hand stinging after delivering the most horrible sounding slap you have ever slapped…

…to the side of Aonung’s, now incredibly shocked, and incredibly offended, face.

Ronal sighed, but the remnant of a smirk lingered still on her cheeks, avoiding both you and Aonung’s gaze. “There you go, [name]. Next time, you should be much more careful,” she said softly, her hands leaving the cooling bandage now wrapped around your still aching leg and extending to your ankle, a sore reminder of whatever the hell it was that you experienced the night before.

You sat on a woven hammock, propped up by the trees that supported the healing tent. Ronal stood in front of you, “I am grateful that Aonung was there to help,” she said, turning towards the discombobulated walking-disease she called her son, who had a big bandage over his cheek, glaring down at you. She grabbed Aonung’s ear, pulling his body over very clearly painfully, making him yelp in pain with incoherent pleas of ‘ma’ and ‘please’  coming from his lips.

“What in Eywa’s name were you thinking? Trying to kiss a girl while she’s injured and unable to say anything about it! You are lucky that she slapped you first, or else you would not live to see another day if I had anything to do with it! My son, you are many things, but you are not an idi–” she scolded, promptly dragging him out of the marui still by his ear to deliver his well-deserved punishment outside, an amused smile making its way onto your face. Sigh, justice.

But okay, the incredulity of the day, of course, has not worn down on you. 

Tsireya came rushing into the tent with a bowl of…whatever, her face the guiltiest it’s ever been. It kinda made your heart hurt. “[Name], I am so, so, so sorry!” she said, kneeling down by your hammock and taking your hand in between hers. “As soon as I heard you were awake I rushed over,” she quickly mumbled, grabbing a rag and dipping it into the bowl and pressing it over your forehead gently, “I am so sorry for yesterday, I never should have suggested going there, let alone–”

Oh, here we go… It’s the Tsireya cycle, you call it. Whenever something goes wrong, she infinitely feels bad as if it’s her fault that something nearly killed you. 

She kept on rambling, trying to explain herself, but all you did was squeeze her hand tighter. She stopped, looking at the small smile on your face. “Hey, no harm done Reya. I’m fine, you see?” you reassure her, the small beads of water gathering under her eyes slowly going away as she blinked rapidly, containing herself as best as she could. She couldn’t say anything, although words were at the tip of her tongue. You could see she was struggling to add something, but she finally relented, settling for a gentle hug. “I’m glad,” she smiled. 

Okay, now it was time to figure out what the hell happened. “So…who saved me?” you asked her, using your arms to prop you up a little bit higher on the hammock. “Well, it’s a long story. Aonung kind of…followed us to see the nrr payoang. He was planning to surprise us, he said.” 

what

“He said he saw us, and as he was swimming down he saw you get pulled down by the creature. He dove in immediately and saved you.” she offered a small smile, like anything she was saying was making sense at the moment.

The only thing that came into your mind was the blaring red siren that screamed “STALKER! STALKER! STALKER!” but unfortunately, the pufferfish on legs had just saved your life so you were probably going to have to shut up about that for a while.

Woah. He just saved your life, [Name], shouldn’t you be more grateful? Maybe hug him? Maybe-

NO! Inner thoughts, shut up. Nobody likes you.

Tsireya turned around in response to the sound of someone being pushed through the entrance to the healing tent. 

Aonung. 

Wait nonononono Tsireya please don’t get up please don’t leave me here with him he looks like he’s about to kill me please

Aaand she’s gone. 

He took a pained breath, as if what he was going to do next was going to bruise him for the next couple centuries or so, sitting cross legged beside your, now that you realise it, very lowly hung hammock.

You were positive the look on your face wasn’t very inviting. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

You had half a mind to burst out laughing because you were the one that had to get saved in the middle of the deep dark ocean. But he did violate you so obviously you weren’t going to do that, it was well deserved. A non-consensual move is still a non-consensual move.

“For the record, I only wanted to….” he basically whispered the next word, “kiss” (you felt your whole body cringing and twisting and turning on the inside and screaming to be let go from this horrible situation) “the top of your head.”

Oh. 

‘kayyyy… that makes it the tiniest bit better. 

Still not forgiving though. 

“I’m sorry too.” you said to him, your eyes now avoiding his face. Damn, did you slap him good.

He let out a small smirk. Oh no, you slapped his smirking cheek. You could see him wince in pain a bit before he stopped his expression abruptly.

“For what? I mean besides the slap. I deserved that. Although, I have no idea how you knew-” his eyes widened, stopping mid-sentence.

“Were you pretending the whole time?” he asked, eyes scrutinising your face.

“Okay hold on! I know it sounds crazy, but I had this dream, and you were in my dream–” you started explaining, ignoring his smirk at those words, “and I saw you lean down to like, kiss me, or something, and then I slapped you in the dream but I slapped you in real life.”

“All I got from that was ‘I dreamed about you kissing me, Aonung, please kiss me now, Aonung, I love you, Aonung’ ” he joked, smiling down at you.

Gosh, those dimples. 

FUCK nononononnnonasonfiwbjberhblvhaqnerovnav

Okay but he was kinda attractive as hell right now.

The hair too.

You weighed your options for a bit, the tension in the air crisp.

“[Name]? Did I say something wro–” he started. 

Ughhhhh, just shut up already.

Before you knew it, you closed your eyes and pulled him in by his neck, pressing his lips onto yours, kissing him.

He sighed into the kiss, before smiling really widely, pulling away.

“So I was right after all–”

“Just shut up before I give you a matching bruise on the other cheek,” you threatened. But a super wide smile was evident on your face, and your hands still clasped together on the back of his neck.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, whispering softly, looking into your eyes and then your lips again.

“Thank you for saving my life, ‘Nung.” you say. 

You don’t know why the hell you’re doing this.

 But it just feels right.

 And isn’t that what we’re all looking for in the end?

“No problem. Would do it again,” he smirked, “Know how you can repay me?” 

You rolled your eyes before pulling him in once again.

masterlist

Omg screaming crying WOOO it’s over it’s done! I’m so so sorry if it didn’t turn out to be exactly what you asked for, anon. Harder than I thought it would be to complete a fic after a solid 10 months of not writing (and also unfortunate circumstances arising). I made sure it was longer than my usual so that it’s not too bad 😭

I hope you guys enjoyed the fic, I know I definitely enjoyed writing it lol. I tried a different style of narration this time so do let me know what you guys think! Hope it’s not total doodoo to future Lorre when she rereads this back again. 

As always, feedback is much much appreciated and any interaction with my posts helps a lot! In case anyone has more requests please feel free to leave them in the inbox, I will get to them eventually. Thinking of writing for a lot of characters and fandoms but this is getting way too long so I'll cut this short lmao.

see you later!

much love, lorre