#smash hit entertainment

[fanami]

Showcasing the all new redesigns of the main cast.

[paintalyx]

if you don't start your class presentation with the explicit intention of letting everyone know that you're the most insane person in the room what is even the point??

[fingertipsmp3]

Photographic proof to come but omg I can’t believe I forgot how much better I look with dark hair

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

not be able communicate by words means… constantly be misunderstood. misinterpreted. not have any way show own perspective, your side of story. your story always written talked about interpreted read thru other people.

someone did something wrong you. someone hurt you. someone say wrong thing…

someone make up malicious thing about you. maybe that you rude ungrateful bad temper behavior problem. it now become truth it now become you because there no way you correct them.

you can’t educate them. you can’t explain it to them. nevermind that, for example, you severely disabled n having symptoms that impact quality of life, or have symptoms that dare inconvenience people - can only watch as people around you speak “for” you not with your interest in mind but of their own selfishness - that people who can communicate by word say you only do that because you lazy, you selfish, want attention, on purpose, just want to for no reason, faking, inherent personality flaw.

not just big things. more often it those small things that build up every day, happen tens n hundreds of times each day, every day, every week, every month, every year… more often it those small things that add up that break you.

imagine everything bad, incorrect, & bad and incorrect thing said about you in your life. n now imagine you not able defend yourself, explain yourself, or even say those wrong not true.

n any attempt of yours to maybe protest, not enough, people not understand, or downright not listened to, made fun of. at first you shake head make noise meaning no all calm. after while of it not work you get frustrate n it start showing. you get impatient n snappy, why none of you understand, is any of you even trying. but people around you with privilege of able communicate n defend self thus never have experience of not have that, find it such basic of skill that they no longer see it as acquired skill but instead see as innate, born in, natural, cannot imagine person not have it just like can’t imagine living person not breathing—they only see their perspective n only see their interaction n not the many, hundreds n thousands, of previous communication where no one understood you (or even tried to). so they mock you (sometimes they the one who on purpose provoke you to see your reaction like you monkey in cage for their entertainment), geez big reaction why can’t you be patient. n you get label, impatient, rude, explosive, anger issues.

you protest in only way you can without words. you do it by sounds n noises n movement. you raise voice you scream you smash thing around you you hit yourself in frustration you hit other people who don’t understand you because you frustrated at their incompetence n how much they failing you. because. show me another way person can communicate without words. show me way that one can continue do after tens n thousands of misinterpretations n miscommunications n malicious interactions, n still remain calmly, “appropriately.”

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion you can feel at this point: anger, frustration, helpless. be misunderstood, even smallest innocent one, become trauma become trigger. miscommunication alone can set it off, make you see red n see billion of previous miscommunication where everyone failed you n left you to fend for self. then the backhanded jab that sometimes follow, that make thing exponentially worse.

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion left you can feel that consume you. loud sounds, screaming, get physical. it not earn you be understood. it only earn you this: be called impatient, irrational, explosive, land mine, rude, ungrateful, annoying…

“behavior issues.”

and that’s another misinterpretation of you you can’t defend yourself against. cycle repeats.

n other verbal people only listen to other verbal people. so these descriptions of you become “your truths”.

n the true you left there. to rot.

a lot people with no functional communication (either because no ability, or because circumstances) labeled as have behavior issues. yeah, no fucking shit. try it for a while. anyone would “have behavioral issues” in these circumstances.

no one seem to care. so okay fuck yeah am difficult kid, have behavioral issues, make your life miserable. yeah am terrible person, have inherent personality flaw of no fault but my own. except now do it on purpose, make it true now, put ability to control own truth in own hand. because you all seem want me be that so bad. so now you get it. don’t complain now, you all asked for it really really nicely.

but deep down. at most basic. hidden beneath. really just. want be understood. want be helped. want people to learn my communication.

“many behavior is communication” yes, those kind of behaviors should be respected n valued n listened, but try behavior your way out of correcting n explaining everything just said in post to person who just don’t seem to get it

without rely on good grace of nice people around you who keep on play guess games n give out guesses in words you can nod or shake head to. now, that’s cheating.

people not nice to people who *have no choice* but to *only* rely on behaviors & vocal noises to communicate

n, even if every single person nice. behaviors n vocal noises alone, not enough.

this written with full time experience in mind

[demonpiratehuntress]

The Straw Hats (+Ace) with you being injury prone

Featuring: Zoro x Reader, Luffy x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Usopp x Reader, Ace x Reader

Summary - you get hurt very easily. waking up with random bruises, tripping over your own feet, walking into walls, etc. and your boyfriend is extremely concerned.

Warnings - like one swear word

A/N: im super clumsy and VERY injury prone, so i thought this might be fun to write. writing this with ice on a bump on my head :))))

ZORO

Zoro tends to get murderous when he spots an injury or even the smallest cut on you. He is immediately ready to tear up whatever caused it, or slice the person responsible into ribbons. So you try to hide it as best you can, especially since you are especially clumsy and getting hurt is your biggest skill. Got a cut or bruise? You're wearing long pants and long-sleeved shirts. Bump on your head? Beanie or hat.

Sometimes, though, your body forgets you're trying to conceal your clumsiness and it will blatantly expose you, such as right now.

"OW! DAMN IT!"

You had been trying to sneak up on Zoro, who was laying out on deck - you guessed it - taking another nap. One of his eyes opened at the sudden cry, landing on your figure nearby. You were hopping around on one foot, clutching your knee with both hands, your expression pained. The swordsman sat up.

"How did you hurt your knee?"

Indeed, there was nothing around for you to hit your knee on - a precaution taken by Nami and Chopper, the only two who knew about your unfortunate tendency to get hurt.

"I...I kicked it."

"How did you-" Zoro was absolutely stunned. He was an idiot, but even he knew there's no way you could kick your own knee. It was physically impossible. He got up to come an inspect it.

"I'm fine!" You promised, setting your foot down - unfortunately for you, it twisted and took you down with it. "OW!"

Zoro's jaw dropped. It took a hot minute for him to react, too shocked to fully comprehend what had just happened. When he got over it he carefully lifted you up, taking you back to his hammock so he could take care of you. He had turned his back for a second before he heard a loud thud.

You groaned.

"HOW DID YOU FALL OFF THE HAMMOCK?!"

He was immediately rushing over to pick you up again, keeping you in his arms this time. He was so worried, the poor guy, eyes grazing over your body in concern. You didn't look physically hurt, but he could tell you were in pain. Mostly from the impacts of your falls. From then on, he's your personal bodyguard, having to physically move some things so you wouldn't knock against them, or move you so you wouldn't hit anything. As for the hammock...he always made sure to get on first so he could hold you and keep you from rolling off.

Good luck convincing him to ever let you walk anywhere - or do anything - alone again.

LUFFY

Luffy is a menace. Far from being concerned about you when you would trip or bump your head, this damn idiot has the nerve to burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter.

"You're funny, (Name)!"

And he doesn't mean to hurt or upset you, it's just the way he is. He's seen you on the battlefield, mercilessly crushing whoever got in your way, so he doesn't think much of these little accidents. He thinks you're not hurt, that you're completely fine and doing it on purpose to - yes this is his reason - entertain him. After all, why else would such a ruthless fighter just flop and fall around for no reason?

"Luffy, I don't think she did that on purpose..." Usopp tried to tell the captain, who was trying to convince you to fall again.

You frowned, trying your best to not get upset with your dumbass boyfriend, and before you could stop yourself, your body already obliged. You turned and walked right into the mast - face smashing against the hard wood. You groaned and stumbled back, your nose hurting and eyes glossing over. You fell onto your butt, earning another round of obnoxious laughter from Luffy.

"DON'T JUST SIT THERE AND LAUGH!" Sanji knocked Luffy so hard on his head that the captain fell to the floor, hitting the deck face-first. Then the cook came to help you up.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling so embarrassed.

It was then that Luffy noticed your tears, and he sprung to his feet - completely unaffected by Sanji's attack. He came up to you and grabbed your arms, making you look at him.

"(Name), what's wrong?"

"I'm fine," you smiled, shaking off his concern. You made to walk away, but you once again turned and slammed into the mast.

"CAN WE MOVE THIS DAMN THING?!"

"But that's...that's always been there?" Usopp said-asked meekly.

You shot him a glare so withering that he screamed and cowered behind Luffy, who just laughed and wrapped his arms around you, extending them until he had you completely encased in a cocoon made by his arms.

"There, now you can't get hurt!"

SANJI

Sanji, like Zoro, tends to overreact when you get hurt. And by overreact, I mean he dropkicks everyone and everything that dared to cause you harm. So you try to hide your injuries from your overly concerned boyfriend, opting to cover them with layers. Sanji found this a bit odd, but otherwise didn't press. But slowly he started to notice things he hadn't before.

"My love, watch that-"

You bumped into the wall, sending your book crashing onto your face.

"-wall."

He rushed over to check if you were okay, laughing a little when you pulled the book away from your face to smile at him sheepishly.

"I'm fine."

Seconds after you said that disaster struck again, with you tripping over your own feet - with absolutely nothing being in the way - and falling over. Sanji's eyes widened and he quickly helped you back up.

"You are very clumsy, (Name)," he chuckled, not knowing that was exactly it.

"I am," you agreed, hiding your embarrassed blush behind your book.

Before he could say anything else, you took off and tried to quickly walk away before he could notice the growing bruise on your knee. That failed, as you hadn't taken three steps before you crashed into one of your oncoming crewmates, and fell backwards.

"Mosshead! Why did you push (Name)!" Sanji yelled, coming over looking ready to throw hands.

"As if I would do that!" The swordsman snapped back.

"Well she's on the floor isn't she?!"

"She bumped into me!"

"How dare you blame (Name) you big oaf!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

You quickly stood up and got in between them, averting the total destruction of the Going Merry.

"He's right, Sanji. I bumped into him. I told you I'm clumsy."

You didn't have to say more before you were suddenly scooped up into the cook's arms, hearts in his eyes with his next words.

"Well then I'll just carry you everywhere my love!"

USOPP

Generally speaking, Usopp is a lot more alert than most of the crew. So it's no surprise that he picked up on your clumsiness early on, but he didn't think it was anything to worry about since it was just small stuff. But the moment you walked in one day with a bag of ice on your head, unsuccessfully trying to conceal it under a hat, Usopp grew alarmed.

"(Name), is everything okay?" Your concerned boyfriend asked you, stopping you from lifting something up. "Your head-"

"Is fine," you finished with a smile, kissing his cheek. "But thanks babe."

You walked away before he could insist on you telling him what was going on. But unfortunately for you, your two left feet gave you away and you stumbled forward, dropping the box and then tumbling over it. Usopp cried out in alarm and ran to your side, helping you up.

"(Name)!" He fussed over you. "Okay that's it, what's going on?"

"Should have known I couldn't fool the brave Captain Usopp," you smiled, trying to divert his attention.

"Well, I-" He stopped laughing confidently when he realised what you were doing, "Hey! You can't do that! Tell me, I'm worried."

You sighed, "I'm just clumsy, that's all. And injury prone."

"That...explains a lot..."

You growled and smacked him, "Is that all you can say?!"

"S-sorry!" He apologised quickly, rubbing his head. He was about to take you to Chopper for nothing other than he was worried you were hurt internally, when you suddenly tripped and fell on top of him.

He groaned, "Clumsy is an understatement."

ACE

He notices right away. There was no way it was normal for someone to walk into a wall that they knew was there, or to trip on a flat surface, or bonk their head on a shelf that they knew was over their heads - multiple times. But somehow, you managed to do all of that and more, and poor Ace was sick with worry about your physical health.

"OW! FUCK!"

Ace's head shot up from the bed, "What happened?!"

"I hit my head again..."

"Same shelf?"

"...Same shelf."

He chuckled before getting up and going over to you, bringing you into his strong arms. He placed a kiss on your head, replacing your hand rubbing your sore spot with his hand.

Later on, you were trying to bring him something, when you stubbed your toe on the bedframe and tumbled onto the bed, startling the poor man out of his nap.

"(Name)!" He figured you must have tripped, but he was not prepared for your tears. "Where does it hurt?"

"My toe..." You pouted. "I hit my food on the bed."

He face-palmed. It takes a lot for Ace of all people to face-palm, so embarrassment creeped up on you. Before you could protest, he pulled you on top of him and made you lay on his chest.

"I swear, you're a walking safety hazard," he teased. "Looks like I can't let you leave the room now."

He meant it. And if you did leave, it was with him. He was just too worried about not being around when you hurt yourself, which was valid because he was always your source of comfort.

Later...

"What happened to your eye?"

"I...fell...out of the bed..."

"...."

You are on the verge of making Ace cry.

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n and Lando are arguing, y/n confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and Lando kisses her

thanks for your request anon! sending hugs and kisses.

tw: fem!reader, she's hella short, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 733

you cannot remember what you were fighting about anymore. what you do remember is that it started because some girl had hit on lando and you had gotten jealous. of course you were far too prideful to admit that the thought of lando with anyone else except you made you feel sick to your stomach, so instead you just gave him the silent treatment. was it wrong of you? for sure. did you feel bad? were you going to give in, admit you were in the wrong and apologise? fuck no.

"i don't get why you won't just tell me whats wrong! you always fucking do this! all i wanna do is help and y'make it extremely difficult!" lando yells. well it's a half yell half just talking extremely loudly at you. you frown as his voice raises in volume.

"there's nothing to tell you. i'm fine." you protest, arms crossed over chest as you stand in the middle of your shared kitchen. your standing still while lando is pacing around the place like a madman. you understand why but it does not make you any less jealous.

lando runs his hands through his hair with a deep sigh as he tries his best to calm down.

"look, if you aren't telling me because you think i'll be mad or get upset or whatever, i promise you i won't. i just wanna make you feel better, honey." his voice is significantly softer than before and his face seems less uptight too. the sight makes you happier because you were worried that you had gone too far with this whole thing. all you wanted was for lando to know that entertaining that girl had hurt your feelings but you could not find the confidence to do it. the driver watches as you hesistate.

"c'mon, love. you can tell me anything. you know that." lando utters, hands coming to run up and down your arms.

"i'm fine." is your reply. lando loses it, stomping away from you.

"fucking hell!" he shouts your name, frustrated.

"don't shout at me. you're the one not listening. i said i'm fine." you reply, feeling yourself rise up to match his level of frustration. lando scoffs at your words, clearly not believing them at all.

"yeah, sure and if i didn't ask you what was wrong then i wouldn't care about you or your feelings but if i do then i'm - what even am i doing wrong right now? how can i possibly be in the wrong right now when all i want to do is care about you and your feelings?" lando says exasperated. his hands coming to run through his hair again, making it ten times as messy.

"i just said that you're not listening to me and you've just proved my point! all i want is for you to listen to what i say!" you shout back at him, arms waving in the air.

lando stares at you and for a minute, for the first time in twenty minutes, the apartment is quiet. it is only seconds later that lando is striding towards you and smashing his lips onto yours. your immediate gasp helps him deepen the passionate kiss as his hand grips the back of your neck. you react as soon as his tongue touches your own. your own hands coming to grip at his shoulders. the kiss is sloppy and kind of pathetic until you pull away, panting for air.

"why," you breathe out, trying to catch your breath. "why did you do that?" you ask the brit, eyes staring into his own.

lando gives you that smile before replying "you told me to listen to you more and i thought i heard you say kiss me." he shrugs. you so badly want to roll your eyes at him but affection takes over your body instead as his cheesy grin makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"and next time, i would appreciate if you just told me that you were jealous instead of me trying to force it our of you." lando whispers in your ear, the feeling of his breath so close to your skin sending a wave of goosebumps down your arm. you scoff as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck as he laughs, the fight already forgotten about. seems like all you needed was a kiss or two.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

[webslingingslasher]

i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.

parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!

Peter had two sets of friend groups. 

The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 

Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 

It’s split like this. 

With friend group A, he’s Peter.

With friend group B, he’s Parker. 

You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 

Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 

It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 

His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 

Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 

It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 

You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 

If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?

—------------------------------

Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 

If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 

“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 

You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 

Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 

“Want company?” 

Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 

He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 

“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 

You shrug, “sure.” 

Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 

That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 

His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 

So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 

When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 

—----------------------------------

Noise woke you up. 

The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 

There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 

You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 

It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 

“Baby?” 

You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 

“I slept like shit, how about you?” 

You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 

Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

You grin, “french toast.” 

Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 

He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 

“Okay, come here.” 

You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 

Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 

A text thread between him and Nick. 

“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 

“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 

“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 

“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 

“Appreciate it, man.” 

A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 

Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 

You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 

You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 

“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 

“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 

You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 

[c0llisiion]

NUMB TO THE FEELING : Concert Sex —J.jk

★pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre : smut

★: npr, switch!jk , switch!reader , fellacio , handjob, whiny!jk, idol!jkandreader , dirty talk , cum eating, lots of ‘baby’ usage, its basically jungkook being all whiny idk 💀 – lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 1,207

Pt.1 , Pt.2 [can be read as a stand alone!]

A/N: HIIIIIIII! Im backkk! I decided to quickly write this lolol (not rlly proud). I didnt intend it to be so switchy jk path but somehow i js ended up there 😭 its kinda short and idk imo but anyways hope you liked this! I might make this a series hehe

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the day of jungkooks fanmeet. The crowd was huge. Fans were screaming out his name over and over again. The arena was so lively. You were deep in the audience, and no one seemed to notice you. You were sitting in the 3rd row with your managers and bodyguards surrounding the seats in front of and beside you. You watched as your boyfriend entertained a crowd of mostly young women. There was a spark of jealousy, but why would you be jealous when you get to fuck him whenever you want?. As the concert went on, vcr’s were played every now and then, but one of them caught your eye. It was a vcr where Jungkook hopped out of his and yours shower. In the same shower, he ate you out till you were shaking. The same shower where you suck his dick as he groans and whines at the way your mouth worked on his dick. The same shower he pushed you against, fucking into you until you blacked out. Thoughts of those steamy days and nights flooded your mind as you watched the vcr.

 

Jungkook had just finished the second-last setlist of the night. You watched him scurry off the stage, removing his clothes in the process. You relaxed and laid back a bit when one of jungkooks staff approached you. “Mr.jeon would like to see you in his dressing room immediately, Ms.y/n”  she said while taking deep breaths. You smirked and nodded before following her. You knew exactly why he called you. You were guided through the backstage area by his staff. People were running rampant, preparing for the next set list. She eventually brought you to Jungkook's dressing room before giggling and leaving. You stared at the door in front of you, contemplating whether to tease him and just leave or give him what he wanted. “Come in already, baby.” A deep voice was heard from inside the room. How the hell did he know? You chuckled before entering his dressing room. "I thought of actually leaving you all hard and-“ jungkook grabbed you by your neck and smashed his lips against yours, cutting your little banter off. His other hand went to your ass, groping the fatty flesh from under your teeny-tiny miumiu skirt. His tongue was inside your mouth as he pressed his hard-on against you. “Fuck– gotta make this quick, baby. God, you look so hot rn.” He mumbled into your mouth as his fingers toyed with your wet pussy. You moaned into his mouth, grinding onto his fingers for more stimulation.

You pushed him away when you felt his fingers pushing inside of your soft walls. He stumbled back a bit and stared at you, confused. “Baby? Whats wrong-“ he got cut off as you pushed him down onto the dressing room couch, immediately taking your place in between his legs. Jungkook smirked at your sudden action before relaxing on the couch, throwing his head back, waiting for your next move. You were kneeling down in front of him as you palmed his erect cock through his jeans. You unzipped his pants and pulled down both his jeans and boxers together. His big, thick cock flung out, hitting his belly, precum already leaking. 

You took the monster in your hands, smearing the pre down his shaft before sucking on his tip. Jungkook let out a loud groan, bringing his hand to your head to push you further down. You slapped his hand away. He stared at you with a confused look and a pout. “You’re being mean-..” he whined. Your hands went up and down his length, slowly pumping it. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” You say it tauntingly. Your hands increased in pace, and jungkook was in another world. His head was thrown back as whimpers after whimpers escaped his mouth. “Look at you. All whiney. You just love it when i tease you, dont you jungkook?” You say before pressing your thumb into his slit. Jungkooks hips bucked up at the sudden action. “Haa…! Nghh- y/n..” he moaned, his eyes looking down at you half-lidded and on the verge of tears as you kept teasing his sensitive tip. “Speak up, baby. What is it?” You ask with a fake sweet tone as you fondle his heavy balls. Pulling and tugging on them before licking up a huge stripe from his balls to his tip. Jungkook whined out loud, his back arching away from the couch. Hands gripping the armrest. “You are so sensitive..” you say, gliding your hands up and down his length faster. “So..so.. sensitive..” wrapping around his dick tighter and pumping him faster. “Haa… fuck so good, y/n… im gonna cum…—“ he says, eyes closed and in a state of bliss. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum? What if I don't let you?” You say before detaching from his cock and watching it twitch in the air. Jungkook whined and cried, missing your soft hands. “Please y/n.. let me cum.. I promise to fuck you good .. “ you loved seeing him be all desperate for your touch. The way he could switch from being a dom to a sub was so surreal. You chuckle at his words and nod. “As you wish…” you say before putting his entire length down your throat. Jungkook moaned out as your throat spasmed around his thick dick. Your head bobbed up and down his length. His hands are pinned down to his sides by your hands, restricting him from touching you. 

Jungkook was a moaning mess. His sweet little mouth let out groans every second as you worked up his length. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth, and before you knew it, a white, salty liquid coated the inside of your mouth and throat. You coughed and gagged around his cock as rope after rope of cum kept slipping down your throat. Spurts of his cum start to peek out the sides of your mouth. You pulled away and swallowed all of it before bringing your hands back to his softening cock, overstimulating the hell out of him. Jungkook shuddered under your touch as he tried pushing you off. “Y/n please.. thats enough..” he said. You smirked at him before continuing to work up and down on his length. He leaned forward and wrapped his hand around your neck, immediately stopping your movements. "Didn't I tell you to stop, doll?” He said he was squeezing the sides of your neck. You nodded and whimpered as his grip on your neck tightened. His hands traveled to your jaw, his fingers wiping away the reminder of his cum that was around your mouth. He stuffed his fingers back into your mouth, and you shamelessly licked off the rest of his cum. He smirked and softly slapped your cheeks. “I fucking love you.” Was all he said before he was cut off by a loud knock on his door.

“Jungkook you are up in 10! Get ready quick!” His manager screamed from the other side. He looked at your kneeling figure before kissing your cum stained lips. “We are not done yet btw” he said, pulling you up before putting his pants back on and exiting his room.

A/N: Ilysmmm! Thank you for reading!!!

[fanami]

Life is Just Awesome!

[hischeapcigar]

𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓌𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓈 

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Part: 1 2 3 4

Summary: you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most 

Word count: 3.6k ish

Warning: none except your father is a bit deranged so maybe that's all

a/n: it was supposed to be cute little one shot but i think it's gonna be series lolol. reblogs and comments are appreciated. love you mwah

Your dad hated Joel. You never knew why but it had been like this as far as you could think. Your father played the major role in trying his best to keep you away from Joel.  

BBQ party? Everyone's invited except Joel. 

Your birthday? Everyone but Joel 

He’s grumpy all day? Must've had an interaction with Joel  

He even hit Joel, who obviously retaliated but the neighbors showed up to resolve the matter.  

The whole neighborhood knew. How could they not? Your dad insulted him behind his back, which some entertained, but most of them grumbled and left the room. Because they knew Joel and they knew your dad too.  

Even you felt pity for Joel, the few rare interactions told you he may look big and fierce, but he was a charmer. Sarah’s happy face was proof of his kind nature and your anxious state of mind was a reflection of your dad’s nature.  

You once tried to defend Joel, but your father smashed the glass so hard, a sharp piece pierced the skin of your foot, leaving a scar. 

 Your parents always change the subject every time you try to bring it up,  

“Its past, it doesn’t matter,” they’d say 

But it mattered to you, a lot. Since the small get-together in the field the other night, when you first saw him. Sarah had lost track of his father, so you went looking for him with her, and that's when you first met him properly after like forever. 

Eyes locked and you swore brown became your favorite color. Your breath hitched; mouth slightly agape. He mirrored your reaction but both of you let go just as quickly, minding Sarah’s presence. They left but he turned back to bless his eyes one more time, stealing one more glance at you. The smile he slipped, held your heart forever. You prayed to the heavens to let you both meet again. 

- 

 Working in the cafe which Sarah and her friends called their “second home”, you had befriended all those little girls. It was fun to be around them, and they loved your company. 

 You never officially met any of their parents but one of them captured your mind since that night. You didn't know what you could do without offending Sarah.  

But you didn't have to do anything, because Joel took the wheel as he showed up the next day in the cafe. Sunday meant Sarah and her friends were having breakfast together in their corner spot.  

 You came out from the kitchen, passing the tray of coffee to your coworker as you absentmindedly made your way to the counter, ruffling around with the drawer and all the papers.  

“Hey” your head shot up to the sound of the voice and the unmistakable familiarity it carried.  

“Hi” you replied breathlessly, hands frozen on the paper you just grabbed.  

“Um, can I please get a pancake?” his thick Texan accent flowed like honey, his eyes warm and eager. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you could bet that you conjured him from your imaginations. Seeing him again in a person in less than a week was unbelievable 

You quickly turned around to pass the order to the kitchen window but stopped just as quick, lightly smacking your forehead as you returned to him,  

“Sorry, uh, which flavor would you like?” you cursed yourself for being so clumsy  

He tilted his head to the side, contemplating, before he turned on his good old charm, “su’prise me, sweetheart,” he smirked seeing the look on your face.  

Absolutely flustered at the nickname he just gave you, and how easily it rolled off his tongue.  

You smiled, mumbling a little, “okay,” before you disappeared in the back  

You took a moment, taking a deep breath steadying yourself. Hoping no one notices your flushed cheeks, and no one did.  

In a few minutes, you prepared yourself to serve him. Running a hand on your outfit once smoothing it, you took the tray and made your way to Joel. You were glad he busied himself reading a magazine because if he looked at you, you would have forgotten how to walk.  

“Hello again,” you announced, and he quickly abandoned whatever article he was reading,  

“Hey” he smiled, looking curiously at the pancake plate you just put down, followed by a cup of coffee 

“I didn’t order coffee-” 

“It's on the house, since we believe it's your first time and because your daughter is our loyal customer,” you snickered  

He chuckled, “I- thank you, so much, y’didn’t have to though”  

“Also, i chose strawberry flavor because it’s my favorite so I'm hoping you’d like it too,” you shrugged lightly before taking a step back, leaving him with his breakfast,  

Just as you turned to leave, you heard him call your name, and God that was the sweetest music to your ears. You had no idea how he knew your name, maybe sarah mentioned it, you figured 

You cocked an eyebrow,  

“You looked pretty that night”  

Your heart warmed at the confession, “thank you Joel, you looked great too” you smiled before you left 

- 

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Every now and then your gaze found its way to Joel. Even after he caught you stealing glances, he just smirked. He knew what he was doing to you, you knew what you were doing to him. A game for two.  

You had your back on the counter, conversing with your coworker, when she pointed behind you. You turned to see Joel standing there, ready to leave.  

“Thank you once again, I loved the pancake, though I can’t tell if it's my favorite”  

“You could come by every week to try all the flavors until you find your preference” you suggested. Any excuse to bring him back.  

“Tryin’ all the flavors, huh? I had another reasons to come back anyway, might as well try all the other flavors” smile tugging at the corner of his smile 

Oh.  

Oh.  

You didn’t even get the chance to response when he added, “hey ya mind, if y’get the uh, the cup?” he nodded to his table 

“Yeah, sure” you were confused, why would he tell you what to do? 

You went anyway and now you know why as you looked at the tissue piece with his number scribbled in a messy handwriting  

Such a flirt. You smiled so widely your jaw hurt.  

- 

“Is this Joel or some cute stranger left a wrong phone number on the table?”  

You read it for the thousandth time, indecisive if you should send it or is it a bold way to start a conversation. But then it’s Joel, he wouldn’t mind, you thought and hit send.  

Your heart was beating fast, wanting to throw your phone across the room. Checking every other second if he replied, then a few minutes later,  

J- “Stranger? I thought we were befriendin' each other”

you giggled at the response, feeling like a young teenager having her crush moment 

“Well, we’re getting there��  

J- “That so? Hope you realize your dad isn’t really my fan”  

 

“Yes, and I wonder why” curiosity creeping back up at you, 

J- “We got into a fight back then during a job we did, since then we just couldn’t get along”  

Now was that too hard to disclose? Your parents were just dramatic, you thought. 

Before typing your response, he started typing again so you waited,  

J- “Wish it doesn’t change our sweet journey of becoming friends”

you read his text, wide grin plastered on your face , though a little disappointed that he only wants friendship, but you felt giddy nevertheless 

- 

The next week was the beginning of your new, fragile relationship. Joel would stop by at your cafe any chance he got.  

I missed my morning coffee (he missed it on purpose) 

I’m tired and I thought coffee might help (he just wanted to see you)  

Sarah and her friends wanted pancakes (he asked them, “you guys don’t have to go, I'll get you your order if you want” he’d say and gets “okay, Mr. Miller!” “that’s so kind, Mr. Miller”) 

Weeks went by, and you grew to his presence at random hours. You started to look forward to him showing up randomly. Your coworkers were quick to welcome him, noticing how your face would light up every time he was around.  

He made a three-day streak of visiting before he didn’t show up for 2 days. A part of you wanted to text him to find out if he was okay, but you wanted to give it one more day, and you were not even sure about the thing you both had going on. 

- 

  You were preparing the order, Oliver standing next to you, working on his order and occasionally making you laugh with his corny jokes when Gina, another coworker, showed up at your side, pulling you away from your half-done coffee,  

“I’ll take it from here, go and deal with your favorite customer” she nudged your side, 

You couldn’t help but let the smile make its way to grace your lips, but you had to play dumb, 

“What?”  

Gina gave you the stare that said really?  

You snickered as you left, your heartbeat quickening, exhaustion already leaving your body as you saw him sitting at his usual spot, the corner table that nobody likes, so it’s always available, your favorite spot since him. 

You reached him and instead of staying seated as usual, he got up and walked closer to you. It has been 2 days and you didn't know how much you missed him now that he was standing in front of you, all you wanted was to hug him and never let him out of your sight.  

He took one more step towards you, maintaining eye contact as he slowly raised his hand to your waist and pulled you into him in one swift motion. You stiffened at first, then you locked your arms at his nape melting into his big frame. You took a deep breath like this was something you were missing all your life. 

“Hello to my favorite customer,” you smiled at him when you detached yourselves from each other 

“Hello to you too, my sunshine,” he replied, matching your smile 

You both returned to the table, and he slid a small bag towards you, you didn’t have to open to know what was inside, strawberries, as he started getting you those ever since you told him that strawberries were your favorite. 

- 

Whenever you got free from your morning shift, you two would sit in the reserved area of the cafe just to talk. That’s what you both did. Talk about everything and anything. You didn’t need to pretend, you were completely yourself around him, and he, with you.  

He kept buying you strawberries because you loved them. And in turn you would treat him with extra cup of coffee on random days 

Any little time you spent together felt like an escape from reality and everything it offered. There was no toxicity, just pure, innocent and effortless conversations along with different flavors of pancakes.  

Sarah admired Joel showing interest in your company. She wasn’t young enough to see how happy you both looked, and she was genuinely glad about that. She would even make excuses for Joel to come to the cafe,  

Hey dad, can you please bring my notebook, I forgot it on the table and we’re discussing something 

And boy would he be beyond happy whenever he gets the opportunity to show up at the cafe. 

- 

But like waking up from a really good dream,  

Joel had just entered the cafe, standing on the counter, chatting with you (not blocking the way of customers) while you received orders when your eyes went wide at the figure entering through the door,  

“What is it?” Joel asked casually 

You ducked your head, “its dad” you whispered and saw how Joel’s face fell. You both knew you weren’t allowed to hang out with Joel, let alone be around him.  

Suddenly his demeanor changed as he cleared his throat, looking down at the menu card, feeling your dad approaching. You managed to keep a serious and bothered face as you saw your dad stopping deadly in his tracks as he saw Joel. oh boy  

“There are other cafes in the town” your dad grunted, indirectly referring to Joel, who only rolled his eyes in response.  

You bit a smile at his reaction, “hey dad! Didn’t know you were coming” you tried to alleviate the thick tension.  

Your dad gave you a tight nod, “yeah, get me two blueberry pastries; your mom called”  

Never the friendly face, annoyance etched on his face like it was there since he was born. Your father was exactly the kind of customers you hated. Acting like a boss, like you owe a million dollars.   

You looked between two of them before you left to get the box. On your return, you didn’t spot Joel. You frowned, wondering if your dad had said something to him. Your thoughts were cut short by your dad; 

“No need to serve him, tell him to go any other cafe, there are plenty of them,”  

You were speechless, he was being absolutely ridiculous.  

“Wha- dad? He’s just a customer, you can't bring your years’ old absurd beef in this-”  

“Do as i tell you, and if you can’t, then leave the job, you can do better anyway” he threatened in low voice, pointing his finger at you, before leaving 

You knew your dad was overreacting but you kept your mouth shut because you knew he wouldn’t care about the people and just shout on you if you disagreed with him 

- 

It was midnight, your mind was running a hundred thoughts a minute since your dad showed up today. You had no idea how to tell Joel to stop coming to the café, like how could you stop him when it made you the happiest? 

 “Hey, you awake?” you texted joel  

He didn’t reply for 10 minutes, then your phone chimed, you quickly turned it on to see his text,  

J- “Yeah, I'm up, why aren’t you asleep yet?” he replied 

“Wondering what dad told you today at the cafe” there was no filtering when you were with Joel, sharing every piece of your mind and not regretting it 

J- “Except telling me to not ‘roam around you’ he didn't really say anything”  

You were embarrassed, why did your dad have to be like that? you felt bad for Joel 

“I’m sorry” you sent before typing “I just wish he wouldn’t stop you from the cafe, your presence feels natural there”  

J- “Don't be sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mind it at all. He’s only looking out for you; we'll figure it out. plus, I think I can sneak in when I get the chance ;)”  

You scoffed at his text, looking out for me? More like suffocating me from things that I actually like. But you felt affection for him in the way he was willing to be with you.  

- 

It had been a week, he showed up two times. Two times. A day apart. Then he disappeared for the rest of the week. 

After the 3rd long day of him not showing up, you started to worry. Two hours of constant contemplating later, you decided to text him, 

“Hey, Joel” 

It's Sunday afternoon, 2pm. Not that Joel would have something to do so you wait for his text. You toss and twist in bed, smoking cigarettes, reading old magazines, scrolling on your phone, an hour later, there was no reply. 

4 hours; nothing.  

8 hours; nothing.  

Next day, beginning of next week. You passed by his house, praying to get at least a glimpse of him but there was nothing.  

You didn’t even see him on the streets, not with Sarah, just nowhere. As if he didn't even exist.  

  Still your ears pricked up every time you heard the door to the café ring, desperately hoping it was Joel, but it was never him.  

Sarah and her friends were seated at their accustomed table. It distressed you to see Sarah, not knowing how to go and ask her about her dad.  

It upset you even more when Gina asked you about him every other day, and more hurt when you had to lie, like “oh he’s just busy,”  

But Gina knew better when she saw you with pity in her eyes, that look that told you, I'm sorry he ghosted you.   

  You had to hold back your tears to keep her from knowing that she was right.  

But you broke down the second you locked the room to your room, lighting a cigarette, you placed it between your puffy red lips as the tears streamed down your cheeks,  

“Where the hell are you, Joel?” you hit send and threw your phone as you sat on the windowsill, watching the cars go buy,  

You got out of the bathroom when you heard your phone ding, you all but ran to the bed, grabbing and swiping it on,  

J- “Yeah, just around. How’s everything?”  

You were taken aback by the carelessness. As if it wasn't bothering him, as much it was bothering you. As if he didn’t miss you at all like you did. As if it all didn’t matter. As if you didn't matter 

“Really? You ghosted me for two weeks and now you're acting all chill?” you replied 

Frustration getting the best of you, you wanted to cry again.  

J- “Look, I think it’s best for the both of us”  

“Fuck what you think, fuck you” you sent   

You could feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You threw your phone on the table before falling on the bed, face first.  

The next thing you know is you're sobbing, muffling the sounds with the pillow on your face. You didn't realize how much you were attached to him until now, you didn't know how much you wanted to be with him until now.  

You got up to smoke a cigarette to release the stress, but you cried while exhaling puffs of smoke in the air  

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him 

- 

The next two days were a blur. You avoided spending extra time in the cafe, avoided conversations with your coworkers because they ended up asking about Joel. Your father picked a fight with a random guy just because he took longer to deliver some equipment that he ordered online; it was stupid really. You avoided Sarah too, because she painfully reminded you of Joel  

I'm only giving it time, I'll get back to normal eventually, you’d tell yourself  

The third day, you were brewing coffee when your phone vibrated, turning it on, your heart dropped to the stomach as you read Joel’s name on it 

Quickly you swiped to view the message,  

J- “Can we talk?” you felt anxiety rising up. A part of you was excited that he texted while the other part of you was furious, he can't just come and go as he pleases 

You were lost in your thoughts when you received another message, J- “please?”  

You decided to let things be, he ghosted me for a week, now he wants to talk, he can't expect me to go back running  

Putting your phone down, you carried on with your work until it was night. 

You closed the cafe as you stepped out, you saw a familiar truck parked beside your car.  

Unmistakably Joel. 

He stood there leaning against his truck, cigarette smoke around him like a halo. He pushed himself up as he spotted you and he made his way to you.  

You stood there frozen. Resisting the strong urge to go and hug him and never let go. But you stood there and waited,  

He came close but didn't stop until he was only a few inches away from you. Looking at your face, examining it, eyes running all over your features,  

“Sarah said you looked horrible, but God you look worse,” he whispered. Scared if he talks loudly, this all would shatter,  

“Like you care?” you retorted.  

That's when you saw in his eyes. Regret. Remorse. Before he hung his head down, 

Slowly he reached for your hands, hanging on your sides, silently interlacing your fingers. You didn't stop him. You couldn’t  

“Please, can we talk?” his voice was small as he looked at you 

You nodded  

He released a breath, that even he didn’t know he was holding, as he nodded too 

With your fingers still interlaced, he tugged you toward his truck. You both walked the distance, hand in hand as you felt droplets of water kissing your skin.  

You went rigid making Joel turn and face you, watching you wipe away the water beads from your face. A few more drops on both of you before the rain lashes down. 

Joel instinctively became your human shield, as you both ran towards his truck, even though that wouldn’t keep you from drenching, but the action was so Joel. Reaching there, he quickly opened the door for you before getting himself inside from the other side.  

Both of your breaths were ragged as you sat in silence.  

He ignited the engine bringing his truck to life,  

“Where are we going?” you broke the silence  

He sighed, “I- uh, had tis place in mind but,” he looked out the window, at the rain, “‘s rainin’ so we can stay in the truck, I guess,”  

“What place?” you were confused,  

“Y’gonna love it, trus’ me” a small smirk growing in the corner of his lips 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Part: 1 2 3 

Tags: @strawberri-blonde

[radio-fmm]

Enough

Zoro x reader

Hurt/comfort + gn reader

1k words, very self indulgent

Masterlist

“FUCK” you scream in annoyance tossing your weapon across the room, plomping down with your hands shielding your face as you pant from exhaustion, frustration aching at every bone

The last few week’s training had become more of a chore, scratch that, an inconvenience. Your mind seemed to be wondering elsewhere, anywhere but where your feet stand making you fail over and over again, not landing a single hit for hours on end. You had tried everything, taking it slow, harsh, even bribing yourself saying ‘If I land this hit I’ll buy me something nice’ just to end up in disappointment

Having no results at something you’ve been great at for years and years, that had gotten you the place at your captains crew was like a dagger digging into your skin, as another day passed where you couldn’t even get through the first exercise in your routine.

The sound of slow and steady footsteps met your ears making you shield yourself further, hiding your face in the corner of the room fighting the tears that threatened to flow

“You ok?” Zoros low and raspy voice calls for you, his tone monotone

You don’t even spare him a glance before you let out a heavy sigh “Clearly not”

Everyone in the ship had noticed your drastic shift in behavior. Every time you’d come down from the crows nest, your face was bright red, feet stumping as you smashed the door of your quarters shut, not talking to anyone for at least an hour

Zoro knew exactly what it was as he had witnessed your frustration while he shared the training room form time to time. You would grunt and stomp your feet like a child, telling yourself everything from words of encouragement to degrading venomous things as you tried and tried to get at least one hit.

But he never said a thing

Until you stopped coming down for dinners, sleeping in more and more often, spending your days rotting, nor a smile or a laugh leaving your mouth. That natural glow and silly sweet personality you carried slowly fading away as the days passed, and he couldn’t have that

The swordsman sat down at your side, arms crossed across his wide chest while his mind reeled. Zoro clearly was not on his element, he had searched of the right words to say, the right timing, but he quickly came to the realization that there’s no such thing, he just had to be blunt

“Stop beating yourself up” to his surprise you shake your head frantically, there goes his words of encouragement

“I am just trying to be useful for the crew, if I can’t be that might as well throw me out in the ocean” your words linger in the air, making Zoro frown and stabbing your own heart

“Is this what everything’s about?” You sit right up and stare back at him confused, he looks annoyed

“What?”

“You’re beating yourself up because you don’t feel useful?”

Zoro waches the rapid speed in which your chest rises and falls, your lungs fighting to find the air they so much need, teardrops falling in your cheeks

“I-“ you choke out, your voice betraying you but your eyes fixated on the swordsman, a quiet call for help but he waits, clinging at your every word

“I am not as strong as you Zoro, or as smart as Robin, as entertaining as Brook and Ussop, or as caring as Sanji and Chopper, as important as Franky and Nami… I always give my 200% so that I fulfill my role but sometimes, sometimes I can’t even get to 50%” your hands are quick to wash your salty tears away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you had allowed yourself to be, but if you were to keep your feelings inside any longer you were going to fall apart

“You are our crew mate”- Zoro spoke with his usual standoffish tone, yet it sounded more soft and reassuring as other times you had conversed.- “You are not some clown or some soldier, you’re here because Luffy saw something in you, he believed in you as we all do here, you don’t have to prove yourself” your head started to shake once more but Zoro was quick to shut down your insecurities, one of his hands holding your forearm giving it a light squeeze

“You’re enough” his words got stuck in your heart, warming it and finally releasing the dreadful thoughts that had been plaguing you for days

You break down crying, head falling on his sculptured chest holding onto the swordsman like your lifeline “I am so tired”- you whispered between sobs. Zoro was taken aback but didn’t tried to pull away, instead holding your frame close, hands drawing soothing circles in your back as you let go finally. And there he sat, wetting his shirt with your tears but he didn’t cared, being strong all the time could be tiring he knows this better than anyone, as well as how you had to always show up and be strong to protect yourself

But now he was here to do so

Your sobs died down as your breath aligned to the beating of his heart thrumming in your ears, you thank him, eyes glittering back at his gaze that seemed to have softened, he brushes the matter off but Zoro is more than happy to had been of service, lifting the heavy burden from your back

“Now, go rest” and for the first time in weeks, you smile

That smile he had so missed making his heart jump and skip several beats, a warm feeling spreading all over his being, and glad you’re back to yourself just as he wanted. It may sound selfish but he doesn’t care, he wants you back

“You’re far more emotionally intelligent than people give you credit for mosshead” he rolls his eyes trying to hide his swelling pride

“I am just that great” you nudge him before standing up making your way out, his eyes never leaving you as if preoccupied something would bother you again in his absence

As you slip to sleep that night, you can finally truly rest, your body letting go of the tension that had build up, worries washing away like the tides crashing against the ship, the moonlight and the sound of the ocean lulling you to have the best sleep of your life

All thanks to your swordsman

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìwäsul

✮ Meaning: competition ✮ Requested by: ⛄️ and 🪐 ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!metkayina!warrior reader ✮ Warnings: rivals, smutty smut, fluff, p in v, Aonung is a munch, pining ✮ Word Count: 10.3k

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It first happened when you were kids. The first time that stupid skxawng beat you, and it never seemed to end. You knew you were just as talented, just as ferocious, just as determined, but he was always just larger and stronger. It probably also helped that he would be Olo'eyktan.

So year after year, after every fight, every hunt, every trial, you would always be second. Silver. Sure, you could smash down every other  warrior. Sure, you could outrun and outswim and even outrank any other person in the clan, but there would always be him. Aonung.

He was, in fact, a complete and utter idiot. He was all big and perfect and beloved by the clan, despite all his flaws. Because those flaws seemed perfectly obvious to you, his competition, but everyone else just fawned over his big muscles and pretty blue eyes and you were determined to never do so.

He was cocky. He was a player. He had more muscles in his arms than braincells in his head. He was condescending and entitled and just somehow managed to get away with everything.

So you were determined to be the person to call him out. If everyone was going to baby him and feed his practically obese ego, you would try to keep him in check.

You wouldn't fawn and fall at his feet. Every word you spoke to him was twice as harsh as to others. Every blow you delivered in training was harder than the last, and certainly harder than anyone else would dare to hit the precious little prince. Every look you sent him clearly showed your distaste that he, somehow, always was above you.

And he seemed to get it. As you got older, he became less dickish towards you. By the time you finished your iknimaya, he had congratulated you. By the time the Sully's came to the reef, if you called him out on his taunting, he'd pull his head back in.

You, of course, had no idea why. Everyone else did though. The way Aonung would only do as you say was perfectly obvious to everyone else. Ronal and Tonowari had figured it out early, that their son hardly listened to them, so they managed to sneak you into it when they wanted him to do something.

And Aonung tried to get over it. That's why he spent his days training hard, trying to beat away and sweat out all his ceaseless thoughts of you. Thoughts that mortify him, thoughts that you would murder him over.

That's why he spends his nights with a new girl every time, on the beach, in the water, on the woven floor of marui's, trying to fuck his desires for you out into another girl.

He can't help it- the way he imagines it's always you. You squirming as he lays with his head nestled between your shaking thighs, holding you down and drawing desperate moans out of your mouth so usually full of quips and snarls. 

You on your knees in front of him, the same eyes that glare when you look at him now filled with tears as you take him far into your throat, your soft lips brushing over his hard length.

Imagining you're the one under him, riding him, bent over in front of him, the curve of your ass and the softness of your tits on complete display for him.

Fuck.

It was bad. It was really fucking bad.

You were his second in command, you were his biggest competition. What used to be a childish crush was rapidly growing into a mature, dangerous obsession. 

What he wouldn't give to have you as his, to be yours... 

You, of course, on the other hand, are completely oblivious to his infatuation with you. For years, you've written off the way he treats you differently as simply part of the game, part of the competition the two of you have entertained for so long.

You have no idea of the blunt lust and deep affection he harbours for you, and you're certainly oblivious to his efforts to get closer to you. The first could have been anything, and it never would have occurred to you that it was courting.

In the years since your iknimaya, the rivalry between the two of you had fizzled slightly. You could accept his outranking you- he, at least, was worth the top position.

So you followed his orders with 60% obedience and managed to build a courteous, polite relationship with him. You were not quite friends, yet you both respected the other, and managed to share a good conversation every now and then.

Which is why it seemed so shocking that he was suddenly starting to compete with you again. He, of course, isn't doing anything of the sort, but you think he's falling back into the old rivalry.

It all started with the summer hunt. 

Really, it was your fault. You let yourself get overconfident, sure that the huge fish you had speared through the heart would be the largest catch of the clan, and you had been pleased with yourself and returned to the village.

There was much admiration and praise for your amazing catch, everyone congratulating you until suddenly it all stopped. You weren't an attention seeker at all, but you couldn't help feeling irritated that something was suddenly so important.

Which, of course, has to be Aonung. 

He's striding towards you, his large, muscular arms straining under the weight of the fish he's holding. It's fucking massive, completely putting your batch to shame, with shimmery scales and terrifying spikes all along it's back and fins and mouth and tail.

Almost instantly, everyone that had been congratulating you practically pounces onto him, gushing over their precious little prince and his unimaginable talents, his incredible strength, his impossible bravery yadayadayada.

You, on the other hand, just stay back, arms folded and a scowl fixed onto your face. You aren't bitter he did better than you (well maybe a little but that wasn't the point). After thinking you both got over this competition on at least surface level, here he was, bringing his haul over to you to completely undermine your efforts. To show, once again, he beat you.

But as everyone fawned all over him, he just continues to walk to you, returning a smile every now and then but staying in silence as he approaches. His bright blue eyes are fixed into yours the whole time.

He doesn't look cocky; there's a strange glint in those ocean eyes that you can't interpret. He's doing something, you can obviously tell at least that, trying to prove himself in some way. 

And of course, your competitive, fierce mind jumps straight into the past. You can't believe he's doing this now, making you look ridiculous and small and undermining you with his amazing catch.

He finally reaches your woven basket, in which your now seemingly tiny fish lies. You fold your arms and stare blankly up at him, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

"Hey," he smiles, shifting the fish in his arms so he can see you better.

"Hey," you reply slightly coldly, raising your brows slightly and watching him.

He was attractive, you can admit that. Not just in a pretty way, he was so pretty it had every girl falling at his feet, and he was always happy to offer his time to them. It was something in that white shiny smile and bright blue eyes, maybe something to do with that air of slight mischief and danger that lingered around him.

It also could be his body. That was good too. All muscular and giant and taller than anyone else in the clan, even Tonowari. He moved with confidence and slight cockiness, the curve of his broad shoulders rolling gracefully when he moved. It was something to do with the sharpness of his collarbones and jawline, or the way his lashes curled so gently. Or just his body, the slight X shape to his ribcage, his stomach toned and muscly just like the rest of him, tapering into a slim waist.

“Good catch,” Aonung says, nodding down at your basket that looks ridiculous beside his.

You squint at him, is he making fun of you? But he looks genuinely sincere, and also nervous. Aonung, the prince of the clan, the most confident even cocky person you know, is standing slightly awkwardly in front of you, looking nervous.

You aren’t sure if it’s your face- your glare does tend to have a terrifying effect on people, but you decide you’ve glared at him and he’s never looked this nervous around you before. In fact, you’ve never even seen him be nervous ever. Not at any fight or hunt or even at his iknimaya.

That only makes you more annoyed.

“Yours is better,” you reply bluntly. It’s an obvious fact, and Aonung smiles slightly.

“Thank you,” he grins. “I went outside the reef to three brothers rock-”

“Isn’t that a bit far,” you ask sceptically. “And a little dangerous?”

You go to hunt at three brothers rock every few days, but what was this skxawng playing at, going to such extreme lengths to beat you.

“I wanted to bring something good back,” he shrugs.

You scowl a little deeper. The other clan members that had been offering their congratulations were now dispersing. Sure, your arguments with Aonung were known to be a great source of entertainment for the clan, almost as much as the actual warrior fights, but they also knew better than to overstay their welcome when it came to the two highest ranking warriors in the clan. And this is where this is heading, an argument

Really, you had slackened in your insults and keeping Aonung in line over the last few years, the competition between the two of you dying out slowly let you let him off the hook. He had used his new freedom to fuck around with his friends and girls and you had put your efforts into training and proving yourself.

“What are you trying to do Aonung,” you sigh, sharpening your knife to carve the fish.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding confused.

“You’ve never gone hunting beyond the reef except when you’re trying to prove a point,” you say bluntly, not looking up from sharpening your knife. “Like when you nearly got Lo’ak killed when we were kids. So what point are you trying to prove?”

When he doesn’t say anything, just staring down at you, you put your knife down with a small snarl and glare up at him.

But before you can say anything, the next wave of villagers walks past, and they bustle around Aonung to marvel at his incredible hunting skills and unbelievable daring and oh my god you’re just strong! And Aonung just doesn’t seem to care. He usually is aloof and cocky, but he enjoys praise and ass kissing. The new crowd blocks you from his view, and you shift slightly to keep it that way, while you can take another look at him. He looks like he’s trying to find you, craning his neck and ignoring all the praises and flirtings thrown at his fucking feet. His brows are furrowed, and he looks torn between confusion and slight upset that you’ve suddenly disappeared.

Stupid skxawng.

You sigh, gaze flicking to the basket of your smaller fish lying ignored and abandoned beside the group clamouring over Aonung’s massive, incredible one, and sigh.

You leave it there and slip back through the crowd and into your marui.

Tsireya’s waiting there for you, your best friend lying in your bed, admiring something. Her ears flick up when you enter, quickly noticing your annoyance in your huffy silence and agitatedly flicking tail.

“Hey beautiful,” Tsireya grins. “What’s got your tail in a knot?"

“I’ll tell you who,” you say hotly, stripping off your gear from hunting and tossing it angrily into the corner. “Some stupid, infuriating, competitive-”

“Right,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “What has Aonung done now? I thought you guys were fine now.”

“I thought so too,” you growl, setting your knife down aggressively. “But noooo, apparently now he has to one up me and hunt the biggest fish in my fishing territory. You know, I don’t know why he’s being so competitive.”

“It’s a bit hypocritical of you to be calling anyone competitive,” your best friend comments, raising her brows at you. When you glare at her, she holds her hands up. “I was just saying, don’t get mad at me.”

You just huff a sigh and flop down onto your woven bed, laying your head in her lap.

“You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” Tsireya says, sounding amused.

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” you snap. “I just know that your brother is trying to beat me, or prove something-”

Tsireya laughs incredulously, and when you lift your head to frown at her, she stifles her giggle and puts on a straight face.

“This is beautiful,” she gestures to what she’d been studying before.

You have half a mind to object to her subject change. But then again, Tsireya had heard you rant about her brother so many times, she’d probably memorised it by now. And you weren’t bothered to spend any more time thinking about him, otherwise you’d get pissed and unproductive.

“Yes,” you smile fondly, taking the top from her. It was beautifully woven, a piece that you had been working on for a while for the hunt festival, beading intricately with gems and shells and seaglass you had collected yourself. It was something you adored, something beautiful and yours, that you could admire as your hard work.

“Well, come and see what I have prepared,” Tsireya grins.

“I don’t want to run into Aonung at your marui,” you sigh.

“Oh, you won’t,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “My brother’s out preparing for you- um, for something?”

“Probably the festival,” you grumble under your breath. “Where he’ll steal my last respect and status.”

But you follow your best friend out along the village to her marui. The sun was nearly set now, a deep, rich periwinkle colour over the sparkling, still ocean. You wished you could go for a swim, maybe even a hunt right now, but you need to help prepare for the festival tomorrow night. That was who you were, reliable and determined to do anything to prove yourself, helping wherever you can.

Tonowari, Ronal, Tsireya and Aonung lived in the largest marui in the village, obviously. They had the one in the centre, a huge, beautifully woven marui with partings for rooms. You had your own marui now, with a single room, a sleeping mat, a small kitchen, and a shelf for your memories and keepsakes. It wasn’t exactly tiny, given your high status, but as you lived alone you weren’t assigned a larger, nicer marui, and you had no need for one either.

But sometimes you felt a little bitter as you looked across the village to your favourite marui. It had just been recently woven, in the perfect spot at the edge of the beach and over the shallows of the water, the perfect place to fish right off the walkway. It had plenty of room for weapons and collectibles, and a curtain for privacy woven of palm leaves and strung with beautiful shells hung in the entrance, shielding the interior for you.

Oh, how you longed to have that marui. Problem was, there was a reason why it was so beautiful. It was for the next clan leader- Aonung and his future mate.

You sneak a glance at it before you follow Tsireya into her family’s marui. You greet Ronal and Tonowari who greet you happily, exchanging some conversation about the festival and the hunt. As you finish your chat and go towards Tsireya’s room, something catches your eye from another doorway.

You aren’t a snooper. You aren’t a lurker or someone who wallows in other people’s business. You certainly never cared about Aonung’s business. But you can’t help your curiosity, and after noticing Aonung isn’t in his room and hearing Tsireya rustle about in her room to get her top, you quickly slip your head in to see.

Eywa. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Sitting neatly on his bed, amidst several loose beads and string, is the more intricate, gorgeous top you’ve ever seen. Just like the hunt, it puts your top to complete shame.

Each bead sparkles in the light, colourful and happy and beautiful just like the stars shining bright above you. You can’t help feeling impressed, though you’re still frowning. Tentatively, you reach out and lightly trace the top.

It’s so smooth and cool beneath your fingers, and you can already see that it would settle perfectly when worn, showing the perfect amount of skin and delicately covering you at the same time.

Everyone weaves new tops for the festivals, and men often do too to gift to others. Aonung was going to beat you, once again. There was no doubt about it, this top was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

And then you’re suddenly upset, and it’s hitting you that once fucking again he’s won and you’ve lost and it’s all just shit and you’re backing out of Aonung’s room. You’re backing out of the marui, and you’re headed straight for your own home. Flopping into your bed, you just lie in still silence, staring blankly up and scowling.

That night is filled with annoying restlessness. You don’t attend the preparations for the festival held the night after the hunt, resigning yourself that you’ll just figure it all out at the festivities tomorrow. You had, once again, been proved completely inferior to Aonung, and when you woke up the next day and prepared for training, you were determined to not let it happen again.

You made your way over to the training grounds early, figuring maybe you could get in some practise before everyone else arrived and you were once again Aonung’s second in command, but as you gathered some spears and walked over, there was a familiar figure standing there.

“Hey,” Aonung calls when he sees you arriving. “Where did you go yesterday; I didn’t see you after the hunt?”

“I was tired,” you say coolly, tying your hair back.

“Right,” Aonung says, brow furrowing slightly. “And you weren’t helping to prepare last night, either.”

At that, you straighten up and frown at him.

“Since when did you go to the preparations?” you ask sceptically. “I thought you were too cool to help out.”

“I was looking for you,” Aonung says unexpectedly. “You disappeared before.”

“Well,” you huff, lifting a spear, “I wasn’t in the mood for worshipping you like everyone else.”

Aonung chuckles slightly, shaking his head and leaning back to stare at you.

“You’ve never worshipped me.”

“You need someone to keep you humble,” you sigh, bringing your arm back and tossing the spear as hard as you can. It flies far and lands sticking straight up into the sand. You turn back to see Aonung looking impressed. “Unfortunately, being humble isn’t your strong suit.”

“Hey,” he protests. “I’m great at being humble. I’m practically the best at humbleness.”

“Right,” you roll your eyes, picking up another spear. “Be a dear and grab my spear, will you?”

You half expect Aonung to argue, to point out he is your superior, but to your surprise he obediently walks out and picks it from the sand. So he’s still doing as you ask, so what was that sudden resurgence of competition?

“Are you going to try and kill me?” Aonung asks amusedly, watching as you level another spear and throw it again whilst he’s still picking up your first.

“No,” you say stiffly. “I wouldn’t need to try- if I wanted you dead, this spear would already be through your head.”

“You really are strange,” he says, making his way back. There’s a strange fondness in his voice that you don’t understand.

Unbeknownst to you of course, Aonung was not so sneaky at hiding his feelings from everyone else. Or maybe the rest of the clan just wasn’t as oblivious as you. Either way, neither of you noticed your warriors gathering around, watching you and Aonung.

You had always been careful to maintain a courteous, respectful relationship with Aonung in the eyes of your warriors since you passed your iknimaya, but really, you weren’t fooling anyone.

Everyone remembers the two of you when you were younger, in constant competition, your distaste and need to keep him in line balancing his cockiness. And just as infamous (except to you) is just how much Aonung likes his second in command.

Really, it’s obvious to all your warriors- they’re the ones that have to watch Aonung watch you, watch your movements and instructions and teachings and scolding. It’s not secret to them that he likes you, yet their knowledge is a secret to Aonung, and everything is a secret to you.

You start the usual training, instructing all your warriors into warmups and then positions, preparing for them to practise sparring. But, unbeknownst to you, your warriors had a plan, sick of all the pretences and rivalry and oblivious and secrets.

The next stage of training was something of a tournament, all the warriors pairing up and fighting. Winner moves on, loser’s out. You should have known it would end up like this.

You were the best warriors after all, and too soon you found yourself facing Aonung, your warriors watching with interest from the sidelines after being absolutely annihilated by the pair of you. Really, your showdowns with Aonung were almost legendary, but there hadn’t been one since you both completed your iknimaya. But now here you are, about to fight him.

You and Aonung stand at opposite ends, studying each other and moving into battle positions.

You start to circle, before Aonung moves first. He stabs his spear towards you, which you parry easily and we whirl. It's a dance really, charged with tension as you slash and spiral, ducking and stabbing. But after a few moments, Aonung manages to twist the spear from your grip, and it clatters to the ground, rolling out of the circle. You hear groans from the crowd, and the thought that they think you might lose is infuriating.

Not this fucking time. You haven’t come second at every turn for years, your rivalry to die and and then suddenly just return for you to lose again.

You leap at Aonung, leaping over his spear jab and twisting in the air to grab his queue and use your momentum to fling him across the circle. His spear, too, goes rolling away, and he gets slowly to his feet, exhaling and narrowing his eyes slightly.

You exchange a few punches and attacks, enough for you to realise that he must be holding back. There is no way that someone that muscular throws a punch that weak.

"Why are you holding back?" you hiss.

"I'm not," Aonung says, yet the next punch he delivers to your side hardly winds you at all.

"Stop holding back," you growl, and leaping at him, knocking him to the floor and straddling him easily.

And finally, you see his eyes narrow and his breath catch with annoyance, and he moves with his full power. It was an anticipatable offence, and you step quickly aside, ducking under his swing. You move around behind him and kick his leg, bending it and sending him to his knees. You quickly toss him aside onto the ground while he is still confused, and he slides along the sand, digging his fingers in at the last moment.

He clambers to his feet and you crouch a little lower. You trail the circle, eyes fixed on one another. You wait, unhurried and unworried, so he gives in and makes the first move again. This time he goes for your legs, and you leap over him, pushing his shoulders down so he stumbles and you roll to the ground and spring up again.

You exchange punches and kicks, and he doesn't hold back. He tackles to the ground and you groan as his elbow jabs at your gut. Aonung is admittedly stronger, so it takes you some time to wiggle free from his hold, but you move your knee up to smack him in the groin. Then he rolls you over easily and pins me down, his other hand closing around your throat.

You jab your elbow into his side and roll you over again, pinning his hands up and straddling his chest.

“Go on,” you breathe, faces inches from Aonung, pressing your arm up against his throat, ready to cut off his breath if needed.

But he doesn’t say anything. His large, muscular body is warm and still beneath you, his eyes just roving over your face with wide pupils, breath heaving. In fact, his breathing is so strong you’re practically getting lifted up and down on his chest.

Everyone’s watching expectantly, and you press your arm down harder on his throat. You raise your brows expectantly at him.

“I give up,” he breathes, inches away from your face, eyes boring brightly into your own.

“Louder,” you snap, lightly slamming him against the ground.

“I give up!” he shouts.

You let him go, arm moving off his throat, and just resting, breathing heavily. He gave up. You won. You beat him, finally, after years of coming second, and everyone saw you do it.

And the staring eyes suddenly make you realise you’re still straddling Aonung, legs tight on either side and whole body resting on his infuriatingly very prominent abs.

You aren’t one to blush, but you’d be lying if you didn’t scramble quickly off him, readjusting your top and tewng as you look at your warriors. They look satisfied. Not in the way you feel, not like they’re happy you finally beat him. No, they look like something was just confirmed, something you just have no idea about.

“Dismissed,” Aonung calls, waving off his warriors.

You frown, but at the end of the day, it isn’t your call. So you greet your warriors goodbye, exchanging words and waving them off. You don’t miss their knowing smiles, and the way none of them wait for you to follow too. As though they know exactly what’s about to happen, as you pick up your spears and make to follow-

“Wait.”

The word hangs lazily in the air. And, since it was spoken out of his mouth, you had to obey. So, trying to fight off the scowl fixed on your face, you slowly turn to stare at him.

“Yes, Aonung?”

“You are mad with me,” Aonung says, a slight frown on his face. You squint slightly. Eywa, this skxawng really is thick, that it’s taken him so long to realise, and for him to not even be sure about it.

“Is that all you had to ask me?” you reply, with raised brows. “Can I go now-”

“No,” Aonung says bluntly. It’s the first time he’s ever flat out refused you, and you have to take a moment to realise that you actually have to stay and have this conversation now, instead of hiding your annoyance with him behind rolled eyes like usual.

“Fine.” You cross your arms and stand impatiently. It couldn’t be clearer that you wanted to leave, and Aonung shifts a little.

This isn’t at all how he pictured you to be acting. He had tried so hard- hunting the largest fish, trying his best to impress you at every turn with fighting and spear throwing. And you finally beat him. You won, so why are you so upset with him?

Maybe you noticed him staring, maybe you noticed how flustered he got when you had him pinned down and were straddling him?

In no way was Aonung someone that submitted easily. He listened to no one, except you. Really, you’re the only person that could ever get away with having him like that. If only you knew what more you could get away with, that he’d let you do anything, that he’d do anything you let him.

“Why do you dislike me so much?” Aonung asks. Your eyes narrow further.

“I don’t dislike you,” you say delicately, and he scoffs.

“We’ve been stuck in this competition since we were kids,” Aonung points out. “Why did it start.”

“You’re asking me?” you say with raised brows. “Aren’t you the one that’s been determined to beat me at every turn?”

“That’s what you think I’ve been doing?” Aonung asks incredulously. “You think all these years, I just wanted to win?”

“Don’t you?” you ask. “I mean, what have you been beating me and belittling me for years for then, if not to win?”

Aonung blinks rapidly. Oh eywa, this is fucked. He never would have guessed this; that you genuinely thought he dislikes you, that all he wanted was to triumph over you this whole time.

“You just won,” Aonung points out instead.

“Once,” you snap. “I won once, after busting my ass off my whole life. I can handle being second in command. I can handle you being a better hunter and a better fighter and a better leader and beader and whatever, but why are you suddenly rubbing all your victories in my face again?”

“I’m not,” Aonung says, flushing furiously. “I wasn’t trying to gloat or anything, I wanted you to see me do well… because…”

Your eyes narrow further, and your brows raise higher. It couldn’t be plainer you weren’t believing a word he said, and he could guess you’d take some convincing even if he did decide to confess everything right here and now. When he stands in awkward silence, trying to think of what to say, you scoff.

“What about the hunt. What about the spears. What about the top, and the marui and-”

“The top? The marui?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I spent so long weaving the most beautiful top and you had to make an even prettier one. I mean- how did your massive fumbly fingers even manage to make it? And the marui- building the most beautiful home right in front of mine, blocking my view of the ocean-“

“Stop!” Aonung finally cuts you off, as your tone grows louder and more impatient. “It was for you.”

You scowl. Then you frown. Then you raise your brows, and part your lips in confusion. Then you scowl again.

“What?”

“It’s all for you,” Aonung explodes, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “I tried hard to impress you all those years. I hunted that fish to impress you. I wove that top to impress you. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”

And now he’s done it. Spoken the words that break everything, the ones that make fucking sure that nothing’s ever going to be the same. He risks a peek between his fingers at you.

You look like you’ve been broken. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks flushed, mouth parted in confusion, brows raised and head cocked slightly. You’re trying to tell what the fuck is going on. This is a joke, this has to be a joke. He’s taking the fucking piss.

There’s no way Aonung is telling the truth right now- no way anything has been for you. Not the fish, not the hunt, not the fights or the spears or the tops or any thing.

“And the marui?” you whisper. Aonung sighs, covering his face with a large hand. He looks absolutely mortified, as though he wasn’t meant to say any of this.

“Well, I was hoping this would go differently- better. That maybe you would see I liked you without needing me to shout it at you- that maybe you might think that perhaps I never disliked you and that I just wanted you to see me?”

You just continue to stare blankly at him, so he continues in a rush.

“It was perfect,” he mumbles. “Perfect for fishing. You could see the perfect sunsets. The prettiest shells wash up on the beaches underneath the walkway, and I know you love the little ones with the dark spirals. Early morning huts, places to store your weapons, a little cove for the ilu right underneath.”

You blink even more rapidly. Is this skxawng actually making sense? Is he telling the truth?

“So…” you say slowly, swallowing hotly. “You aren’t like… my rival or something.”

“I hope not,” Aonung mutters. “I mean, am I?”

The silence you keep is going to kill him. He just knows it; his heart is thumping so hard he knows it’s about to explode and he’s going to die. His hands and fidgeting sightly. Eywa, he’s never been this nervous in his life. Really, you’re the only person who’s ever managed to make him feel nervous.

And fuck. You had never thought of Aonung like this- never let yourself think of him like this. Because he was always Aonung, prince of the clan, your best friend’s brother, your commander, your rival. But now apparently not. When you think about it, you never hated Aonung. Your distaste for him was purely on a physical level, for his cockiness and taunting, yet noe it was never actually true.

Plus, there were good things about him- that he was a good hunter and fisher and fighter and weaver. And he was sort of sweet, even though you always mistook his crush for dislike.

Plus Eywa, he’s hot.

And maybe it has something to do with the terrified, guilty, nervous, heart-broken, hopeful look in those bright blue eyes, but you find your heart pounding slightly faster. No. Fuck.

The silence is growing longer, and you’re feeling… something. Something in the air between you. Something that had always been there, a tension that makes everything all sharp and strong and dangerous, but you’d always written it off as the stupid rivalry.

Aonung’s just staring, looking large and muscly and nervous in front of you, but also expectant. He expects you to say no. He thinks he’s messed up, pushed things too far, changed everything, fucked it all up. And, as ever, you prove him wrong.

“Aonung,” you say quietly. “What are you saying?”

“I- fuck- I like you,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “I like everything about you, even when you hate me. I like that you speak your mind, and you treat me like anyone and not like some king or something. I like that you aren’t ever afraid or nervous, and that everything you do is just… it’s just always right.”

You scrunch your face. A small flush is creeping across your cheeks. Who would have ever thought that Aonung would be the one to be giving you these stupid fucking butterflies, just by speaking and staring at you with those bright blue eyes. And that when it strikes you. All the usual customs of courting. Bringing gifts. Hunting for them. Beading them clothing. And the marui. Everything he thought you’d like- that you do like, and it was for you.

“So, you’re trying to court me?” you ask incredulously, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

“Is it not obvious already?” Aonung asks with a smile. “Do you need me to get down and propose, tawtute style?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you grin wickedly. “I didn’t spend years being second to you to let you off too easily now, did I?”

“Fine,” Aonung sighs. To your surprise, he kneels down instantly and rolls his eyes up at you. “Do you have an answer now?”

“So impatient,” you squint at him.

“Still your commander,” he points out. “But you don’t need to respond right now. I’m happy for you to take your time. I’ve already waited-”

Surprising even yourself, you reach out and pull him up. It’s not something you consciously do- you have no idea what you meant to do- but then all of a sudden you’re inches apart, eyes meeting dangerously, and you’re reaching up and he’s leaning down and your lips meet.

Fuck. It’s all warm and gentle and comfortable, his arms instantly reaching to encircle you, hold you, hands resting in your hair and carefully on your hips. He smells gently of amber and sea-breeze, but you’re most focused on his lips. They’re impossibly soft against yours, gentle, then exploratory, then hungry.

And then all of a sudden, you can see. It’s almost like your eyes aren’t closed; they’re open and you can see everything Aonung said in truth. You can feel the years he spent liking you in secret, the passion with which he wanted to hold you, to kiss you for so long. Too long. You can feel it in the heat of the kiss, the heaviness of his breath, the closeness of his body against yours, as though he wants to hold you as near as possible and never let you go.

But he does, hands sliding off your waist, withdrawing from your hair, stepping back and gazing down at you. And for the first time- you feel nervous. You feel bare, and messy, and scared. Not of Aonung, god no, but of what just happened. Of what you just felt.

And when he opens his mouth, no doubt to tell you there’s no pressure, he isn’t expecting anything from you, you’re free to do blah blah blah, you find there’s already an answer on your lips. It’s that you want his again.

“You’re to be Olo’eyktan,” you whisper. You immediately see his ears lower and face fall, and you quickly shake your head. "Aonung, look at me."

He does, ashamedly and heartbroken, and you swallow before thinking. You try to think what you need to say, bury what you want to say, biting your lip to stop yourself from hurting him. Or yourself. But his hand slides up to gently caress your face. With his fingers so gently touching your cheeks and under his intoxicating gaze, it's so hard to say it, but you know you must.

"Aonung, you have your people and your future to think-"

“I am thinking,” Aonung says firmly. “I’ve thought about this every day since we were kids. My parents knew I thought about this- the whole clan knew. And think about it- you are literally the best fighter, best hunter, best weaver in the whole clan.”

“You are,” you correct, but he just shakes his head.

“Don’t think about any duties or anything,” Aonung says firmly. “This is what I’ve wanted forever, more than being a warrior, more than being Olo’eyktan. Because what is important is you- and I won’t want to do any of those things without you by my side. Not some village girl, not some other shy healer, you.”

You can’t think of anything to say. You stand there for a moment, blinking at him, heart beating fast in your chest, head spinning nervously. So instead of saying anything, because you have no idea what to say, you step forward to close the gap he just made, lean onto your tip toes and crash your lips onto his.

And he catches you in a way no one else could. Really, only Aonung could be like this. He certainly hadn’t been wasting all that time staring at you in training- he knew exactly what to do- where to slide his hands over your waist, how to tilt your head, to graze his fangs lightly over your lips. This obviously isn’t his first rodeo (you know that, you’d heard enough stories about him with other girls),  but Eywa, you feel like it’s your first time with the way each of his careful, smooth movements have your heart twisting.

You’re growing closer, his hand traveling lower, your own moving over the muscles in his arms and back and shoulder and holy shit this man is just seemingly impossibly fit. The kisses are growing hungrier, messier, closer, all pressing of tongues and heavy breaths and grazing fangs.

Your insides are twisting nervously, tiny flutters of surprised delight flaring inside you, and also something else. You’re growing hungrier for his touches, greedy for him, and you can tell that he, too, is also growing needier. His hand brushes over the string of your tewng and you shiver in his touch.

But then he’s pulling away again. You frown at him, eyes narrowed, legs slightly rubbing together, lips feeling cold without the press of his against them. Aonung’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide to ebony moons ringed in clear blue, chest heaving slightly and gaze roving over your face.

When you return to your marui, your heart is thumping fast, and you notice something gleaming on your bed. The top. Aonnug’s top- the one he made. For you. You instantly run a finger along the intricate beading, just as you had when you first saw it, but still just as nervous, as gentle, as tentative. It can’t be yours- it doesn’t feel real- that he likes you, that he made this, that he did everything. For you.

“Where have you been?” an amused voice asks from the entrance. You turn to see Tsireya walking in towards you, a small knowing smile of her sweet face.

“I was training,” you say quietly. “And- um- Aonung…”

“You found out,” Tsireya says plainly, looking delighted. She walks over and leans a head on your shoulder, admiring the top with you. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? You should wear it tonight.”

You frown slightly. In all the haze of the fighting and annoyance and finally the truth, you’d forgotten about the festival. But as you gaze down at the beautiful top, you smile slightly. You nod at your best friend, who grins back and leans closer into you.

Aonung’s sitting at the side of the party. You’ve yet to arrive, and he’s determinedly avoiding the gazes sent his way from other girls. That’s how these sort of festivals always ended, how most of his nights ended, with a new girl. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel the slightest bit of interest, not when he remembered you.

The furious gleam in your eyes as you kissed him, the softness of your skin rubbing against his own, your slim waist held in his hand. The sweet, coconut smell of your soft dark curls, the warmth of your lips against his, the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his lips. And the sounds you made- all breathy and almost as hungry as he was, eywa, he can’t wait to hear it again.

It was better than he’d ever imagined, and he’d imagined kissing you a million times over the years. Soft and gentle and rough and hungry and desperate and sweet and everything you’d ever want. Because he’d do it. He’d do whatever you wanted.

“Hey,” Rotxo says, nudging Aonung. “Isn’t that the love of your life?”

Aonung turns, faster than he’s ever turned before, and sees you walking besides Tsireya and standing with the Sullys. A small shiver goes through him at the sight of you in that top. He had never pictured it would look like that, but he wasn’t about to complain.

The beadings shone against your teal skin in the pale moonlight and flickering firelight, the intricate strands of the top threading over your chest and leaving little to imagination. He’s barely aware he’s moved over and left an amused Rotxo behind, all he knows is suddenly you’ve stopped looking around the party to find him, and he’s right there in front of you.

Everything seems to fall silent- not only in Aonung’s mind. Girls all over the party are glaring, guys are frowning, your warriors are grinning in a fucking finally sort of way, and Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are just watching with delighted amusement. Across the fire, you can feel Ronal and Tonowari watching. But when you look over, Tonowari is smiling, and Ronal gives you an appreciative nod and a swift grin.

The festival seems to last a lifetime. It seems completely pointless to Aonung, just a bunch of congratulations to the hunters and a few songs and dances around the fire. Until you get out on the sand. The sway of your hips is hypnotising, as is the way your curls move in unison with your slim body. And of course, he doesn’t miss the way the top shifts as you dance, caressing over your skin like ripples in still water. He’s never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his life.

And then it’s over, and you’re right beside him. He’s not sure what exactly was going through his mind, what either of you were thinking, but suddenly you’re leaving the party together, hurried and hungry and it couldn’t be more fucking obvious what’s going to happen.

You’re alone now once you leave the beaches and walk along the woven pathways of the village; the whole clan is out at the festival. You look up at him, and he pauses to look down at you. Neither of you say anything, but then it’s happening and you’re kissing him again.

Really, none of it feels real. It all stopped being real when he told you he liked you- but now the way he’s leaning down so far to kiss you, to hold you closer just sends you over the edge of unreality. Then he’s getting impatient, and he’s simply picking you up like you weight nothing, hands automatically holding you in place by your back and one steadily holding your thigh.

You’re expecting to go to your marui, or maybe his, but instead, you don’t. You go into the perfect marui, the one you’ve stared at every day, as casually as though it’s your own home. You open your mouth to say something, but the privacy curtain of woven shells closes behind you, and it strikes you that you’re alone with Aonung.

The marui’s dimly lit in the silvery moonlight filtering through the weavings, and really, your attention is going straight to the very comfortable bed. His kisses are getting hungrier as he walks you backwards towards the bed, hands holding tight to your hips until both of you fall back onto the bed, his large, muscular body warm over yours. His hand reaches up to the beading of your top, and in his haste to get closer, he just rips it right off. You gasp, watching the beautiful beads scatter everywhere, but he pays no mind.

“I’ll make you more,” he promises. And who are you to complain- particularly with the way he’s staring at you.

Held in his warm lap, one of his hands big enough to hold both your breasts, both large enough to wrap around your whole neck. The thought of that makes you moan unconsciously, and Aonung blinks at you in surprise. You don't bother to play anything cool; with his hands where they are, he can feel how hot and nervous and hungry you are.

And when he meets your eyes again, you can see he feels the same. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw now, hands reaching up to lightly brush over your skin before he licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy.

He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit. You gasp, hands gripping his arms tighter, unexpectant and surprised. Each of his moves is calculated, clever, as though he’s planned this a million times in his head.

You blame all the years of training together- he’s the only one that would have such an intimate knowledge of your body without having done anything like this with you before. He knows to be gentle and rough and where to kiss and lick and nip. His hands are trailing down, and they’re sliding along the string of your tewng.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently, pausing to look up at you.

“Yes,” you breathe hastily, desperate for anything. How the tables have fucking turned; now all you want is his touch, his words, him, when just a day ago you were grumbling to Tsireya about what a competitive, infuriating skxawng he is.

“Shit,” he breathes, as his finger slides through your slit. “You’re so wet.”

But despite wanting this so bad, your face is flushing and you can’t help your legs closing slightly when he slides your tewng away, and you’re left bare in front of him. Aonung frowns with impatience, easily pushing them apart and muscling his face between your thighs with such obvious enthusiasm you practically squeal.

When his nose nudges again your clit and he licks a long stripe up your cunt, you jerk away in surprise and he grips your thighs to keep you still. You’ve never gotten eaten out before, and you weren’t at all expecting the sudden twist in you, or the way you clenched around nothing in arousal. You had forgotten to process the roughness of a na’vi tongue, and it feels all large and hot and wet and so unbelievably perfect.

You're squirming from the moment he gets onto you, sucking lightly at your clit, a delighted, puppy-playful glint in his large blue eyes, tossing your legs over his shoulders so his face is pressed even closer to you. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. You can't help it, the way you're simultaneously squirming away from the overwhelming pleasure of it all and the way you're rutting your hips into his face.

It's all messy, you're so wet, his face is shining with your slick and his spit, and he slides a finger back and dips it in. Instantly you gasp, jolting upwards and arching your back high to the ceiling. Aonung's about to grumble at your squirming when you tug at his hair and he groans.

“Go on,” he says carelessly, before he’s dove back down.

The man’s determined, you’ve got to give at least that to him. As you start to relax more and more, your grip on his hair gets tighter, and he’s moaning along with you. You aren’t entirely sure why, but he seems to be enjoying this as much as you do by the way his tail is thumping happily behind him, or how you can tell he’s very obviously grinning.

Aonung continues to lave his tongue against you, the warm roughness creating a perfect friction that has you arching up despite your hips being caged down by his large hands. He’s listening, watching everything you do, his ears pricking at every sound you make, his movements calculated to what you react to.

When he lightly sinks his fangs into your leg, you cry out and accidentally grind against his face, and he does it several more times.

“Fuck,” you groan, fingers threading deeper through his hair. And then he buries his tongue deep into you, nose nudging against your clit, and your orgasm is washing over you with fierce purpose. It takes you by complete surprise, and you writhe and moan and buck against his face until it’s all too much. Even then he doesn’t stop, and you have to tug his head away.

He looks disgruntled you’re making him stop, but his pride and dopey smile is bright on his face face shining like the fucking ocean, but he just wipes it carelessly and moves back up your body to shower your chest and neck with more kisses and light nips.

“That was fast,” he comments, grinning at you.

“Yeah, well,” you huff. “I- it’s never happened before.”

Aonung frowns, shifting closer.

“You’ve never been eaten out?”

“I- um... I’ve never come.”

“But…” Aonung says, frown deepening further. “You’ve been with a guy before. Right?”

He looks uncertainly at you, and you shift nervously. This is humiliating to admit, especially to the guy who’s known to be the most pleasurable man ever- the one who spends every second night with a new girl.

“Just one,” you mutter. “Once.”

“Who?” Aonung demands, and you smile, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls back. “We don’t have to do anything. Just-”

“No!” you say quickly, reaching towards him. “I want to do this, Aonung.”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to speak more comfort, to tell you there’s no pressure yada yada yada, you reach out and cup the bulge of his tewng. He hisses softly, words dying in his throat and his gaze leaping to rake over your face. He waits patiently, but you can see his jaw clenched in the effort it’s taking him not to rock against your hand.

He feels big. To be fair, you’ve only seen one cock in your life, and if you’re being honest, you’d hope most people were bigger than that, but just the clothed bulge under your hand is enough to have your head spinning. You just hope to Eywa you can take it- but you’ve never been a quitter.

When you press your hand against him, his hips rock and you reach to untie his loincloth. He doesn’t rush you, he doesn’t stop you. Aonung just watches with eyes blown to black moons ringed in turquoise, face following your movements, as though he wants to stay as close to you as possible.

When you finally pull away his loincloth, you have to bite back a gasp. You aren’t intimidated, per se, but the sheer size of him is slightly breathtaking. Never once, in all your filthy imaginations, had you truly dared to factor in the sheer size of him. Just by looking at his massive muscular body, one could guess, but they'd still have their fucking minds blown. He's big. So fucking big it has your eyes bulging and heart thumping and mouth almost watering. His cock is just as beautiful as him, just as smooth pale blue with the delicate darker stripes and glowing tahnì.

When you reach out and touch it, his hips jerk slightly and his pupils widen as your smaller hand closes gently around it. Aonung’s looking at you with worship in those beautiful eyes, lips parted and breath heavy as you shift your hand slowly up and down. All the while, you can imagine the size of it pressing into you, stretching you, ruining you. Aonung seems to be thinking the same thing, because all too soon he’s lifting you up and tugging you closer as though you weigh nothing. He places you over his lap.

“Here,” he says gently, guiding your hips to rock lightly against him. The length of his cock slides along the seam of your cunt, both of you breathing heavily at the warm smear of slick you leave across him, grinding against his lap. He props himself up so he can capture you in a deep kiss, swallowing each others lewd moans at the friction. Heat is growing fast, too fast, everywhere in your body- in your face and heart and thighs and you tremble slightly at the drag of your hips over his.

Impatience for the teasing growing in both of you, Aonung gently flips you over so you’re lying beneath him, back carefully resting against the bed, and lining himself up at his entrance. At the slightest movement, your legs stretching further around his body as he presses slightly onto his cock, you know it's going to be a stretch.

“Fuck yawne,” he groans, as he pushes past the first ring of resistance and slowly starts to slide in. “You’re tighter than I ever imagined. Are you okay?”

You nod breathlessly, clutching hard to his shoulders as he slides even deeper, biting your lip. You don’t care that it turns out you weren’t rivals, you weren’t about to let Aonung see how tense you are. But he can probably feel it, given that you’re clenching around him already, and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet.

He just goes in and in and in. When you think he’s all in, he rocks another inch into you and whispers how well you’re doing. He’s careful to be gentle, stroking your hair and muttering praise to you- but you’re still impatient.

You hardly care how much you get hurt, just wanting him inside you, stretching you, marking you, ruining you, and you drop further down so the head of his cock starts to press into you. You try to lift, to fuck yourself further onto his cock, and he holds you down to adjust.

It’s not like you want the pause when he finally bottoms out, but you sit and breathe and whimper, trying to get used to the burning stretch of it all. Aonung’s breathing heavily too, trembling with the effort it’s obviously taking him not to just move and rut and demolish you. When he shakily looks up, his eyes meet yours, all dark with lust and wide with ecstacy, and he finally pulls out just an inch before snapping it back into you.

You gasp, and Aonung hisses. When he’s sure you’re alright, he pulls out, pushes back in, and you annihilate the last pretences of rivalry. It seems impossible now, that you once disliked him. Hated those blue eyes raking over you, despised the large hands holding you so gently while he thrusts into you, detested that smile with those lips that now make you melt.

You’re gasping and moaning and cursing with every thrust, breath getting knocked the fuck out of you again and again and again until you’re living off the tiny moments in which he’s pulled out, where you feel cold and empty and longing to be stuffed and stretched around him again.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to grow again, and by the way Aonung is hissing and groaning and burying his face in your neck, you can tell he’s close too. His hands are gripping the bed so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it broke. When you arch up, tits pressing against his chest in a way that makes him moan shamelessly, you can see every muscle in his back rippling, each muscle in his arm taut as he thrusts into you. It has you clenching tight around him.

“Fuck,” he’s muttering, again and again, large and muscular and heavy above you.

You aren’t sure what makes you do it, maybe your natural, primal urge to beat him like you’ve always longed to is taking over, but you’re suddenly rolling over and pushing him back against the bed. His eyes are wide and worshipful as you steady yourself with hands on his chest, hands jumping to your hips pressed against his own, him sheathed deep inside you.

You rock on him, thighs burning as you lift yourself up and down in a welcome pain, that familiar coil building up and up and up. Aonung stares up at you, eyes wide and dark and curious and worshipful and hungry. And then it suddenly crests, in a welcome, overwhelming flood of pleasure.

You aren’t even aware of it- too busy ascending into fucking heaven, stuck in a place where you cant see or hear or do anything- you just know wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure crashing into and over you. When you slowly come down, vision returning in bright bursts, you have a split second to note the awe and reverence in Aonung’s eyes before something seems to take over him, and his gaze is darkening and he’s lost control.

It never occurred to you, just how gentle he’d been, until he’s completely let go, allowed the crushing desire to overcome him. He's half thrusting up into you, half picking up and slamming down your body onto him, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess on top of him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his final restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until he finally comes to a shaky stop.

You can’t breathe. You don’t know if you want to- you’re perfectly content as you just collapse against Aonung, lying warmly against his solid chest, his muscular arms automatically reaching out to wrap around you and roll you over so he can cuddle you properly. He presses a gentle kiss to your collar, before speaking softly.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly.

You can’t think of anything to say, you just exhale shakily and give a small, trembly laugh, holding his hand in yours and leaning against him.

“Change your mind about me?” Aonung asks lightly. “Still think I’m a skxawng?”

“Absolutely,” you huff, grinning up at him. “I should get home-”

“Stay,” Aonung says, hugging you closer. “This will be your home, might as well get used to it.”

You smile against his chest. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, not when a day ago, he was your rival. But you’re more than happy to try, so you lean your head into the crook of his shoulder, his arm trailing down to cloak the curve of your waist.

“We have training in the morning,” you point out. “The warriors will be-”

“Our warriors won’t be anything I say they shouldn’t be,” Aonung shrugs. “You’re forgetting who you’re lying with.”

You roll your eyes.

“Skxawng.”

[alltimefail]

Entertainment Weekly just placed Dead Boy Detectives on their "Top 19 Best Supernatural Shows to Stream Right Now" list.

Mind you, Dead Boy Detectives is making these lists AFTER cancelation! IT RANKED AT NUMBER 5/19 (and beat out some pretty big names, I might add). The EW is a hugely popular publication! It's so bonkers to me that Netflix would cancel such a highly beloved, successful show that I had to write them about it, yet again!

If you need inspiration to keep talking about Dead Boy Detectives and hold out hope that we can save this show, THIS should help. Keep streaming, keep promoting it EVERYWHERE, keep creating for it, and for the love of all things wonderful keep bothering Netflix. This show shouldn't have been canceled, and we need to keep reminding them of what a poor decision they're making. ESPECIALLY with GeekedWeek coming up, we need to be SUPER noisy for and about Dead Boy Detectives.

A transcript of the email I sent out today can be found below the cut! A list of Netflix exec emails can be found HERE.

!!!! Note: you can use my email as a framework or as inspiration, but DO NOT copy and paste it word-for-word, or else it will be marked as spam !!!!

Dear [Insert Recipient's Name],

I hope this email finds you well! I previously reached out regarding Netflix's unfortunate decision to cancel Dead Boy Detectives, but since our previous correspondence, there have been several articles admonishing the surprising and untimely cancelation of Dead Boy Detectives. The publications include but are not limited to BamSmackPow, CBR, CHIP, Quotenmeter, Serienjunkies, Serienfuchs, Filmstarts, Movie Pilot, Kino, Vodafone Deutschland, Dread Central, Pop Culture, Sentidog, Geek Girl Authority. and Animation World Network.

Three notable articles have come out post-cancelation that I'd like to highlight due to their succinct, well-informed perspectives on why canceling Dead Boy Detectives was a poor decision are as follows:

The Death of 'Dead Boy Detectives' Was Untimely by Lacy Baugher at Tellyvisions.org

Dead Boy Detectives: The Latest Casualty in a Concerning Trend of LGBTQ+ Show Cancellations by Sam Huang at TellTaleTV.com

Netflix made a grave mistake canceling 'Dead Boy Detectives' by David Opie at YahooNews

It would be remiss of me not to emphasize how these publications are not just central to the US and UK; the cancelation of Dead Boy Detectives is being reported and scrutinized internationally, in several languages and countries.

What truly prompted me to contact you again is an article that was released by Entertainment Weekly today, September 11, 2024. In the article, "The Best 19 Supernatural Shows to Stream Right Now," EW placed Dead Boy Detectives in the #5 slot: it outranked other shows on your platform such as Stranger Things (#13) and Wednesday (#18). The Sandman, the show which Dead Boy Detectives is a spinoff of, is notably not present on the list at all. You can find the article here on ew.com.

Dead Boy Detectives was also ranked as the #1 Best DC Live Action Show available on Netflix by MovieWeb, outranking titles such as The Flash (which has a whopping 9 seasons), Lucifer (a show that was so loved by fans that Netflix picked it up after its own untimely cancelation, mind you) and, yet again, The Sandman.

All this to say, Dead Boy Detectives is still making "Best of" lists even after its cancellation, and it is ranking exceedingly well on said lists! This speaks volumes in and of itself; people are just as outraged today as they were the day it was canceled and it's abundantly clear that critics and audiences alike love this show and want to see more of it! You have a hit show on your hands that is growing in popularity daily, meaning Netflix truly has everything to gain by listening to customers and rethinking this objectively unpopular and unfounded decision.

Please do not waste the immense potential of this incredible show that means so much to so many people. I appreciate your consideration today and implore you to listen to the outcries of fans and critics alike, to do right by the cast and crew of Dead Boy Detectives, and ultimately repeal its cancelation.

Sincerely,

[Your Name]

[mrsjellymunson]

🥁Drummer!Eddie headcanons thanks entirely to THIS by @littlexdeaths and THIS by @somnambulic-thing 🥁

Because of course I have to give him a backstory…

- He was always hyper as a kid and hitting things with pencils and rulers and branches - himself, furniture, bushes, other children…

- He’d frustrate his mother (affectionately) by stealing her wooden mixing spoons and smashing them against cupboard doors, his toys, empty food boxes, and any pans he could steal from the kitchen

- She eventually started collecting things for him, like plastic tubs, paint cans, wooden boxes, and encouraged him to play them outside

- Al, unsurprisingly, wasn’t a fan, so she tried to get Eddie interested in other instruments too. It kind of worked. He’d spend hours wandering the woods near his home with a secondhand harmonica one of his mom’s friend’s husbands gave him, and a thrifted tin whistle, but he always drifted back to the feral, manic energy of bashing objects with sticks

- His middle school teachers never let him have free reign in music class, sometimes excluding him from it entirely. They wanted him to be ‘good at school stuff’ first, and saw music time as a reward. But, if they’d just let him engage in the way he needed to, they would’ve seen that he was ‘good at’ that to a level far beyond his peers. Plus, it would’ve had the added benefits of helping him manage his energy levels, and concentrate better in his other classes

- Eventually he moves in with Wayne, who finds an old acoustic guitar at a yard sale that Eddie absolutely loves. But his passion for rhythm remains, and he collects old containers, cans and pots and arranges them outside the trailer, tinkering away with them of an evening as a way of unwinding before bed

- The neighbours initially hate it, but when they notice that this kid actually has a decent sense of rhythm they start bringing him stuff to add to his set, like plastic barrels and metal oil drums

- He inadvertently becomes the locus of entertainment for the ‘park parties’ that start to happen. People join in with guitars, banjos, at least two residents have violins and someone’s friend even brings a clarinet one time. When some of the old geezers discover he plays harmonica, just like they do, they have ‘hoedown showdowns’ where they duel, and there’s much cheering from the other residents. Eddie even learns to play the spoons (he’s an annoying natural) from the old codger four trailers down, who’d barely been seen outside of his home for months at this point

- One night he and some other disaffected friends break into the High School music room, intending to do some damage, maybe even steal a few things. But when Eddie steps in, after strumming his fingers over the strings of a few instruments and plonking away on the piano as he walks past it, he spots an old, tattered drum kit at the far end. It’s red, with peeling decals, the supports are corroding and at least two of the skins have been mended with duct tape, but to Eddie’s eyes it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It seems to emit its own light, and levitates above the ground, calling to him. He sits behind it, picking up the first decent pair of sticks he’s ever held, and starts to experimentally tap out a rhythm. He finds the foot pedal, and adds it in. Tentatively, he makes contact with the cymbals, revelling in the variety of sounds he can make. After only a matter of moments he’s practically playing a tune, and his cohorts stop their fiddling and pause to listen. One walks over, aghast, and nods his head to the beat for while before remarking, “You’re a fucking drummer, dude!”

Final quote shamelessly stolen from the documentary ‘Count Me In’ where Taylor Hawkins describes how he discovered his future vocation (if you're a drumming fan I highly recommend it).

Visual references: HERE from @eddiemunsons-missingnipple and THIS by @jqmunson

Adding my usuals, my series are coming along, I promise 😁🤭 @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @losingmygrasponreality @richter-raccoon @1deverland