#sorry i don't know what the fuck the other ships's name so I just let it that way

[verstarppen]

omfg i love your fics they’re so funny 😭😭 i had an idea for a max fic that i think you would do so well 🫶 so like she’s his teammate and she has a bf (no idea who but prob another athlete or something since they tend to kinda be fboys 👀 but not another driver please because those dynamics make me cringe in second hand embarrassment 🙏) then he like cheats on her publicly, but she decides to live in idgafistan and max helps her make her ex jealous 😝 but he’s like actually been into her for a really long time and everyone ships them and stuff and then he bags her with his irresistible chronically offline awkward white boy rizz 💋

summary; cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life

pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]

warnings; suggestive language, swearing

a/n; DISCLAIMER the boyfriend is made up and also a sims 2 reference, if by chance there is a real tennis player by the name of Dominic Lothario im so sorry sir this was not written with you in mind ALSO this is my VERY sneaky way of telling everyone my favorite song is trophäe by paula carolina so naturally i had to shove the word trophy everywhere to justify using lyrics as the title I HOPE I DID YOUR PROMPT JUSTICE also i skipped over singapore because we don't talk about singapore

liked by ynln7, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 2,104,962 others

maxverstappen1 The only time I've cheated.

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feeltheorange WHAT DID HE SAYYYY

meepshoemaker the double take i just did cracked my neck

yukinator22 NAHHHHHHHHH

albogeant BRO DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER TIME TO RECOVER LMAOOOOOOOO

ynln7 everyone has permission to laugh i came up with the caption

pierregasly Thank god charles_leclerc I'm going to hell I laughed before I saw your comment pierregasly Me too ynln7 assholes (affectionately)

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 4,592,577 others

ynln7 anyway

view all 909,289 comments

christianhorner This is not the team bonding I was talking about

charles_leclerc Shut up, some of us have waited years for this pierregasly Seconded danielricciardo Third...ed?

simplyclerc LET HIM COOK

lionkingseb max verstapprizz

mcmango he saw an opportunity and he took it

redbullpapaya i manifested this with magic beyond the human comprehension

liked by maxverstappen1, ynln7, christianhorner and 2,102,094 others

redbullracing An immaculate performance today from @ maxvestappen1 and @ ynln7 that’s a 6th Constructors’ Championship for the team!! 🏆 CONGRATULATIONS, WORLD CHAMPIONS!!

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super_max they know they ate

staraikkonen the blueprint for all powercouples

shadownorris LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO

angelricciardo talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference

dominic_lothario 👎

redbullracing Shouldn't you be looking for a job? What are you doing in our comments.

kirbyvettel MAXY/N SWEEP

maxverstappen1 The trophy is not my only win this week @ ynln7

ynln7 ok now let me pass you maxverstappen1 No 🧡 You're pretty in p2

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 693,420 others

ynln7 celebrating the win the RIGHT way (playing f1 2023)

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easportsf1 Amen

ynln7 LMAO

maxverstappen1 I let you win

ynln7 bruised ego alert

christianhorner Such a RESPONSIBLE team, aren't we?

orangleclerc THE T-SHIRT

strawberryrosberg Did they turn down the afterparty invite for this because mad respect

charles_leclerc Tell me your record, I'll beat it

ynln7 in your dreams, leclerc maxverstappen1 Beat us in real life first charles_leclerc First of all.

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 2

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

[additiva]

can u rec some lestappen fanfics pleaseee i feel like i’ve read everything and ur an amazing writer so i trust ur taste (even ones you haven’t read and want to read will do) tyy

Ooh I love this. Also that's so lovely thank you 🤍❤️

Lestappen Fic Rec List

Below the cut.

Ok not an exhaustive list, but here are the ones I remember LOVING.

Some are well known, some less so.

I can't rec any I haven't read yet sorry I'm super picky about the writing style, which you don't know until you get into the fic.

I've tagged some authors, some I couldn't remember their Tumblr names even though I follow them. I'll try to remember to tag them later, but also feel free to do so, if you know them.

Please leave kudos and comment on these fic if you check them out 🤍

I'll try to remember to update the list in future if I can.

Every Other Sunday by Anney

Obviously

Home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci

Charles leaves Ferrari. There's a million of these, and this is my favourite.

Grapefruit Mignonette by slapshots

Restaurant au. The best of the trope in my opinion though the others are also good.

Set My Midnight Sorrow Free by PrincessElectra

-LOVE this series. Ugh. NOT an au.

Violent delights by grandprix

-ABO. Adore this series esp the second one.

Straight Lines by @alphatinies

Yes. Can't describe just read.

Blood Soaked Gown by sixteenthirtythree

ABO. Friends w benefits. Max is retiring and wants Charles to take his Red Bull seat. Adore it.

Canine teeth in the side of my neck by mintchocolatechip97

Silly! Biting. Don't look directly at me.

If I had words by @formula-fun

ABO. Charles has a miscarriage. Don't let the pregnancy themes scare you, it's perfect. The dynamics are 🫠 I adore this Max 😖

Called to the devil and the devil said hey by @creabirds

Yes. Sticks in my brain like glue.

A life in your shape by weiwuxian

- Max is Batman. This bit, I'll never forget:

But it was what made it fun — being taunted and kissed in the same breath. To fight and fuck and feel worshiped the whole time.

Top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge-sangnoir

Sex worker Charles, virgin Max. 😖

Breathe You In (Like a Vapour) by @fabbyf1

🌶️🌶️❤️❤️

I'll Be Right Beside You by @fabbyf1

Max has amnesia. Charles is perfect.

Curious by LaurawritingF1

Charles is bicurious. Max is happy to help.

Heart Out series by @drivestraight

Girl!Max. Charles is bad at sex, but for some reason Max keeps doing it with him. Underrated. One of my fave series ever. Charles is a simp. He cannot handle Max, but he tries anyway, and I LOVE him.

Panem et circenses by Anney

SO underrated wow. Dystopian future of F1 fic, and like. Wow. Perfect. Wow.

Dirtbag, baby by mondaycore

All of their lestappen. Again, don't look directly at me. Look at the fic instead.

The Skirt by Anonymous

Silly! And short. But I love it.

Says he's going to teach me what fast is by @foggystars

Their lestappen are great but actually this Charlos one is my fave 🤌

And these are not Lestappen. They're Maxiel primarily, which I don't seek out in my life but they're SO perfect it makes me sick. I think anyone would enjoy them. The writing is just perfect.

To the Victor Belong The Spoils by @powerful-owl

Hunger Games AU. Wow the writing. The characterisations. Wow. It's all perfect. Wow. Please read it. You'll love it.

Steal the air out of my lungs by nahco3

Resident doctor au. Both accurate and compelling. Max is so dear to me. And Lewis. Love of my life, ugh.

Leave this blue neighbourhood series by tiredtiredsharl

This whole series I must've read 20 times. Multi-ship, though not Lestappen. Found family. It heals me with every word, it's just 😖😖❤️❤️.

Okay that's it for now. Lmk what you think.

[sanjifucker42069]

Buzz Buzz - Sanji x Reader NSFW

Girl........I am down bad.

Word Count: 7,200 words!?!? Girl what the fuck.... This is self-indulgent af.

Sanji finds something of yours that you really would've preferred to keep private. But maybe it wasn't all bad?

Warnings; NSFW MDNI. cis!fem reader, sorry 'bout that, Both Sanji and reader are incredibly awkward, self-conscious, and like one-upping each other, plus size!reader, vibrators, no p in v soz lol. 100% this was written with pre-timeskip anime Sanji in mind, love that cringefail malewife energy. Surprisingly switches all round...also yes I know those with dicks have a refractory period...I just don't care lol

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

You had barely made it inside the women’s room when you caught the ship’s cook. He was crouched, holding something small and looking befuddled. What was that? Wait! No, how did he find that!?

"Sanji! Put that down!" You screamed, face on fire.

Sanji shot to his feet, looking terrified at the prospect of being caught, and yet, he still periodically eyed the implement in his hand, making no move to abandon it.

"What is it?" The question sounded innocent, but you knew the flirt was just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately you're only human, and Sanji always seemed to bring out the worst of it.

"You know EXACTLY what that is!" You hissed, trying to lunge for it. Sanji side stepped you with ease. With fire in your eyes, you quickly captured his wrist, backing him against the wall. Sanji blinked at you blankly. His questioning look stopping you in your tracks. "You...you don't know what that is, do you?"

You wanted to faint when Sanji shook his head. What the hell did he mean? You were sure if any of the men on board knew what that was, it would be the perverted cook. With a blush you stared him down.

"It's a massager."

"Oh my dear, you should come to me, I'd gladly rub your stress away."

You honest to gods squealed at that. Recovering, you caged the man in between you and the wall, fist resting next to his head. Your eyes burning as you sized him up. "Are you fucking with me Black Leg?"

"No, I would gladly give you a massage! My hands may be for cooking, but for you my dear, I'll make an exception. Maybe I could use it some time?"

If your face got any redder you would faint. Spitting out a growl, you regarded the man with a sneer. How dare that asshole make fun of you? "You fucking pervert."

Sanji jumped, clearly offended. "How?! I was only offering a shoulder massage. I don't have any ulterior motives, chef's honour."

"It's a personal massager, Sanji." You gritted out. The blonde stared down at you, confusion evident. Gods he was so stupid sometimes! A growl ripped from your throat. "It's a vibrator. A sex toy. I use it to cum."

The velvety soft bullet clattered to the ground. Darting your eyes up, you took in the frozen man. Sanji was growing redder at a rapid pace. He squeaked out something unintelligible. You watched the blush spread down his neck, blooming beautifully. Huh, he really didn't know what it was.

"Oh." He managed. "You...uh...a toy?"

"I have needs Sanji." You deadpanned, pulling away. You didn't miss how he sighed in relief at your retreating form. Man, fuck him! It's not like you left it out in the open for anyone to find it!

"And you...you use it?"

"Well duh...it's not for decoration." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uncomfortable at the way he looked at you incredulously. "Look now that we've got that explained, can you piss off and let me wallow in my embarrassment?"

Sanji didn't budge, still looking at you with that odd look on his face, like he didn't quite understand. It caused anger to burn brighter in your chest. You snatched the vibrator off the floor, causing Sanji's eyes to widen. With a huff you stomped to your bed, flopping face down onto it. 

"Miss (Name)?" Sanji asked quietly. You ignored him, trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow. This was humiliating. Why the hell did you have to like Sanji of all people? "Look, (Name), I was just surprised is all-"

You snapped at him from your hiding spot. "We don't all chase the first pretty thing we see to get relief Sanji! Some of us have to take care of our own business."

"Wh-what?" 

All you were doing was digging yourself a deeper hole, but you didn't care. "I saw how disgusted you looked. I didn't ask you to find it. You can go tell the crew how pathetic I am! Oh, (name) can't get anyone to look at her like that, how sad. Poor thing, having to rely on something like a toy. Hahaha! Never mind there's never any stupid privacy on this stupid ship. A-and I can have the urge too! So don't look at me like that! I haven't had sex since I got on this godforsaken ship, so excuse me for getting something to help."

You were purely catastrophising, clear that anxiety had gotten the best of you. Sanji would never be that cruel. You weren't sure when, but judging on how damp your pillow was, you had been crying for some time. Well that's embarrassing. Sanji was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.

The bed creaked from extra weight, causing you to wince. You tried desperately to make yourself smaller, to shy away from the man. Instead you felt his large hand pat the small of your back. You jumped in surprise, causing the hand to falter. It began rubbing small soothing circles, You sighed. 

"Why aren't you leaving? I asked you to piss off."

There was a pause. Then you heard Sanji speak. It was faint, unsure of what to do. 

"And leave a lady to cry alone? I don't think so." You scoffed. "If it makes you feel better-"

"Look I'm sorry for crying-"

"I think it's hot."

You stiffened. Sanji felt you go rigid beneath his touch. The silence grew suffocating, You whipped your head to meet his gaze, eyes wide.

"Fucking excuse me?"

Sanji looked embarrassed, ducking to avoid your questioning eyes. The hand on your back spasmed. "I didn't think it was pathetic...thought it was hot...And I don't think it's true that no one shows you interest-"

That drew a callous laugh from you. "Oh please. You and I both know I'm not drop dead gorgeous like Nami or Robin. You've seen the attention I get from men. You don't look like me and not see the way men avoid you like the plague."

The hand on your back tightened into a fist. grabbing the back of your top. You tried to twist to lie on your back but the hand held you in place. Sanji's voice was dark, an unspoken threat dangling in the air. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon Ji, it's cute you're trying to cheer me up but look at me! You think I'm the kinda girl that has men lining up out the door to fuck? I know how I look, it's why I got this back in Loguetown. Don't need to scare anyone off this way." You waggled the vibrator, laughing.

Sanji clearly did not like the way you were talking about yourself, if the way he quickly flipped you onto your back was any indication. You squealed in alarm, feeling the hard mattress dig into your back. He hovered over you, caging you under him, his legs on either side of your plush thighs. You gulped.

"Are you serious?" He snarled. You stared up at him, his eyes were burning with anger, lips drawn into a frown. You protested weakly.

"Sanji, c'mon man. I know its your whole philosophy that every woman is beautiful, and all that, but let's be real here-"

"Yeah?" He breathed out, daring you to continue. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't have to act like I'm attractive Sanji. When we were in Alabasta you literally tried to cover me up with your jacket after I wore that stupid dancer costume."

The man above you blanched. "Oh (name), you thought I-"

"Was disgusted? Yeah? I don't blame you, it couldn't have been a pretty sight."

"Will you stop that!?" He growled. You froze.

"Wait, you're actually mad?"

Sanji scoffed. "Mad? I'm furious. Who the hell told you you aren't breathtaking?"

"Wh-what? I'm not! I don't need explicit words to see that people don't see me that way. Whenever we go out, it's always men fawning over Nami and Robin, and rightfully so, they're hot. If we need to distract someone? It's always Nami being sexy. You do it too. Nami shows a little skin? You're wagging your tongue like a stray dog. I show a bit of skin? You look like you're in physical pain. What about that day on the deck when we were sunbathing? Nami and Robin had hyped me up to try a bikini. I'd never worn one before. When you saw me in a swimsuit, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, like the mere sight of me hurt you. Haven't worn one since."

"I was in pain." Sanji spat. "I was fucking hard."

What?

You gasped. "What?"  

Sanji's face was a dark red, his ears burning, but he held your gaze, looking furious. If looks could kill you'd be nothing but ash under him. "I was fucking hard." He repeated. "I had no idea you were going to be there half-naked. Had to get out of there quick before anyone saw."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sanji wasn't done.

"And in Alabasta? I tried covering you because I realised it was a mistake. That I wanted to be the only one to see you like that. And I wasn't lying when I said you having a vibrator was hot! I was in shock at the thought of you using it. I don't think it's pathetic. I think me having to fucking jack off in the bathroom because you bent over in front of me, or made those noises enjoying my food, or I watched you kick some guy's ass, is pathetic. Why can't you understand that you're sexy?"

Sanji took in you under him, chubby cheeks a bright red. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry I ever made you think you weren't gorgeous."

"But..." You started, clearly flustered. "Nami and Robin?"

"Are beautiful, yes. But they aren't you."

"But...you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty? Darling I think you're so fucking hot you've made me cum in my pants like a boy more than once."

"Really?!" Your eyes were sparkling. That was a welcome change, Sanji mused. He would gladly embarrass himself tenfold, if it meant you'd see yourself how he saw you. 

"Yeah. Once was not long after we met. You wanted a sparring partner. I thought you were gonna go easy on me, and I wasn't gonna fight back. You were vicious. It was hot." He tried to shrug in his current position. "If you remember you got me in a headlock between your thighs."

"I thought you slunk away because you were upset I hurt you? You made that whimpering noise and looked in pain."

"I do not whimper!" He protested weakly. "I 'slunk away' because I came."

"Oh."

"So I can assure you, I'm a pervert for you too, especially you."

"I think of you when I masturbate!" You blurted out.

It happened quickly. Sanji's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched. You watched as his forearms shook. 

Then he lost his balance. 

You'd love to say he fell head first into your tits, moaning in pure bliss. But that only happens in romance books.

No. He headbutted you by accident, flopping directly on top of you like a dead fish. The two of you hissed in pain. Your head throbbed. Motherfucker. For a scrawny bastard he sure was heavy, clearly all muscle, you mused. All muscle, including the very firm one that was poking you in the hip.

"Are you fucking hard?" You hissed. Sanji propped himself up with one hand by your side, the other rubbing his forehead. 

"Of course I'm hard." He hissed back. "You just told me you masturbate to me. I'm assuming you're using that stupid toy."

"It's not stupid!" You defended. "It can pack quite a punch."

"You could have used me, darling?" He offered halfheartedly, masking his nerves with a fake smile.

You shot him a wry grin back. "Oh that was smooth. Unless you can magically vibrate-"

"I could do better."

"You could let me use it on you."  Hmph. Cheeky. Sanji felt faint at the implications. His cock twitched against you. You widen your eyes at him in interest. "Oh? Would you like to try it? 

"I'd rather try you, thank you."

You laughed honestly. Sanji felt the air knocked out of him when you caged him in with your legs, ankles crossing to dig in his back. He shuddered as you dragged him deeper against you, a dangerous look in your eyes. Sanji loved you, honestly. But sometimes he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as nervous as he did. Mustering all his charm he winked at you.

"So you masturbate to the thought of me?"

Oh that did it. Red bloomed deliciously from your cheeks, your ears, down to where your neckline began. Sanji felt his cock twitch eagerly, pride filling him. You diverted your gaze in embarrassment, puffing out your cheeks. Cute. 

"And if I do?"

"That's cute." He grinned, You scowled up at him. He felt your thighs tighten around him. "Oh, I affect you that much, hm?"

Sanji couldn't help the involuntary squawk that escaped when you flipped the two of you with your hips, taking advantage of your lower centre of gravity. Your weight sat deliciously on top of him, allowing him to effectively crush his cock against your clothed mound. He groaned as you adjusted your position, making yourself comfortable. 

"What was that, cook?" You panted out, trying to minimise how riled up you were. With pure purpose, you leant forward, caging his head between your arms. "Because from where I am you look pretty affected." 

The man below you gulped as you leant forward, moving to rest on your elbows, bringing your face closer. The blush on your cheeks showed no sign of calming down, the only telltale sign Sanji could find that you were embarrassed. Your voice dropped. "If you must know, it's a common occurrence. You drive me wild you silly man. Can I kiss you?"

Sanji laughed, dragging your face down to meet him. He kissed you passionately, hands cradling your face firmly. You smiled into the kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip. With a groan, Sanji reciprocated and then some. The impromptu makeout session halted when you propped yourself up to breathe. You stared down at him with stars in your eyes. 

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah." Sanji panted.

Silence. The two of you basking in each other. 

"Would you let me play with you, Sanji?"

You were rewarded with a moan as he nodded, eyes scrunched shut. Eagerly you sat back on his hips. Exploratively, you ran your hands down his chest, rubbing your way back up. Sanji shivered as you began unbuttoning his shirt, fingers clumsy with want. When you got the last button done you couldn't help yourself, feeling all over his chest, as if you were mapping it to memory. Sanji hissed as your nails lightly scratched over his nipples, hips lightly bucking up into you. You hummed appreciatively. 

"Can you stop teasing me, love?" Sanji bit out.  You laughed. 

With no pomp or circumstance, you divest yourself of your shirt, tossing it somewhere behind you.  Sanji whined, reaching up for you. You avoided his hand, crushing your bra-clad chest back to his. You were rewarded with a stuttered sigh.

Sanji felt himself freeze when you licked a stripe up his neck. You were savouring him, stopping to nibble his ear lobe. You had one arm stretched far past his head, the other braced on his shoulder. Sanji bucked his hips at a particularly harsh bite. He could feel you grin against his skin. If Sanji was honest, he felt faint as you kissed back down his neck, stopping when you found his pulse point. Sanji bit back a moan as you sucked harshly, bringing your outstretched hand back to cup his pec. Small whines being the only thing to reward you. 

"S-stop teasing, love." He was more flustered now. Perfect. 

Bzzzz

Sanji froze, eyes wide. He breathed out a small "What the fuck?" watching with bated breath as you pulled yourself back up, a wicked grin on your features. A jolt of electricity shot through him as he felt a vibration against his neck. 

You eyed him hungrily, slowly dragging the vibrator down his neck. The man beneath you was panting, eyes scrunched tight as you dragged the vibrator down to his chest. You circled a nipple with the vibrating tip, causing Sanji to jump. You bit back a moan. 

"Look at me Sanji." You purred. A wave of arousal washed over you as he peered up at you with wide eyes. You languidly toyed with the vibrator, tickling your way down his stomach, the man beneath you squirming. "This okay?"

"Yeah." A whisper. You grinned. 

"Good boy. Balance this for me, okay?" 

The vibrator on his abdomen buzzed idly as you shuffled back. With a wicked glint in your eyes you trailed your hand downwards. Sanji accidentally bucked his hips when your fingers found his belt, making quick work of undoing the buckle. You paused, the man beneath you trying desperately to still. When you deemed him still enough you moved to opening his trousers, fighting your way through a button. You'd never really noticed that Sanji wore his pants higher up on his hips. It made sense, you realised, from a fighting point of view. Huh, you'd have to tag that away for future reference.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sexy happy trail. Gods, so coarse." You moaned, feeling your way down through his hair, You let your fingers lightly touch under his pants. Sanji squirmed. You cooed.

"What a good boy, I'll be taking this back, thank you." You purposefully tickled him as you took back the vibrator, staring at him through lidded eyes. Sanji felt himself freeze, knowing full well what you were planning to do.

Sanji felt an undignified groan escape him as he felt you press the vibrator to his clothed groin with featherlight pressure. You were killing him! 

"Please do something (Name), you are driving me insane."

"Oh? More like this?" You feigned innocence, cupping both the vibrator and his bulge with one hand, and cranking the vibrator up with the other. You watched with perverse satisfaction as the man clenched his fists into your bedsheets. Good. With one hand you slipped the zipper down painfully slow. You made a show of sticking your hand through the opening and began palpating his clothed cock, making sure to squeeze every now and then. 

The man below you began panting, trying to talk but instead babbling something incoherent. You laughed.

With the now intensified vibrator, you slipped it between his parted thighs, placing it directly at the apex. Sanji squealed at that, scrambling to move away.

"Too much?" You cooed, though a genuine questioning tone laid underneath. Looking up to survey his expression, you found him biting onto his hand to muffle his noises. He shook his head.

"Just unfamiliar." He willed his eyes open and tried to fix you with a glare. It failed miserably, and the man instead looked like he was going to cry. 

Would it be so bad to make him cry?

You hummed as a way to acknowledge you saw him. Sanji managed to choke out a strangled, "You're not putting that in my ass."

The laugh that ripped from you was raucous and joyful. You playfully swatted his knee. 

"I wasn't going to go anywhere near your ass!" You managed out through giggles. Sanji blushed. "Geez, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"Just hurry up and touch me." Sanji muttered. You giggled, withdrawing your hand. The man below you whined at the loss. 

"Relax! Right now, I really just wanna blow you. That okay?" 

"Y-yeah! Fuck, I mean, if you want to?"

"Really wanna. Can I put this against your balls? It'll feel good, promise?"

Sanji shuddered beneath you, the vulgarity of your words hitting him. You were looking at him with hopeful eyes, a far cry from what you were saying. He supposed he could always say no if he hated it. He nodded slowly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

You squealed happily, hands flying up to try pulling down his pants. When they refused to budge you swatted at his thigh. Sanji let out a little yip, lifting his hips. You grinned wolfishly, tugging at the garment till it reached his mid thigh. You lightly trailed your hands up his thighs, tickling his inner thighs with your light touch. Sanji squirmed. 

When your eyes met his pelvis you whistled lowly. "Now isn't that something? Definitely more than a mouthful. Didn't take you for a briefs kinda guy, to be honest."

Sanji clearly didn't like the tone he perceived from that. He snapped at you, face red. "They are boxer briefs, thank you! They offer the best support. Why am I even explaining this to you anyway? I shouldn't have to justify my underWEAR-"

Sanji's voice pitched high as you cupped him. You rubbed small circles, grinding your palm against him. "Relax! It makes sense, you don't want a ball popping out when you're doing those high kicks. Thought you'd be thankful I pointed out that and not the giant wet patch."

"Would you be quiet? I can feel myself going soft." Sanji whined. You laughed.

"That's not what I'm feeling sweetheart." As if on cue you felt his cock jump at the pet name. You grinned, swallowing the extra saliva that filled your mouth. "As fun as this panty chat is, I'd really like to unwrap my present now."

Sanji stared at you through lidded eyes as your thumbs hooked under his waistband, pulling lightly. He hissed at the feeling. With no real ceremony, you began peeling the fabric away from him. Eyes sparkling as his cock came into view. The head was red and angry, a clear representation at how frustrated he must feel. His cock was lithe, curved, and definitely long. You found that a fitting comparison to its owner.

"Fuck." You whispered. "I'm sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? I gotta suck you off."

Sanji barely got to respond before you were on him, hands squeezing him. Whatever he was going to say got cut off by a guttural moan. You pumped him a few times, coating his cock in his pre-cum. If Sanji was wriggly before, he was practically fucking your fist. You braced one hand on his hip. 

"Bon Appetit." 

You engulfed him, taking as much as you could into your mouth. A moan tore its way out of you as you tasted him. Gods it was so musky, you needed more. You sucked harshly, causing the man below you to squeal and scramble for purchase. You really weren't going easy on him. 

The wet sounds that ensued were sinful, causing the both of you to feel embarrassed. You didn't care too much, needing to suck this man dry. You'd spent way too long thinking about this. You pumped what you couldn't fit in your mouth, laving your tongue on the underside of his cock. Sanji felt dizzy by the sensation, the heat in his groin growing. He couldn't help himself, hips bucking into your mouth. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat.

"Sorry. Sorry baby, feels too good." You hummed around his cock happily, causing Sanji to whine. "Baby, love, I'm not gonna last long, I promise I'm better than this."

You pulled off with a lewd pop, cooking a brow at him. A hoarse voice you didn't recognise as your own regarded him. "Y'perfect. Now calm down and cum in my mouth, can fuck me some other day."

Sanji whimpered as you resumed your ministrations, scrunching his eyes shut. Fuck, the pleasure was too much. He couldn't stop the way he lightly rocked his hips. He was so close. So close.

BZZZZZZZ

Ohoho. There was no way you'd forgotten what he'd agreed to. You firmly held the vibrating bullet against the back of his balls, resting on his perineum. Electricity coiled inside him, balls growing tight. Sanji honestly keened, a high whine escaping him. Oh shit that was...

Fuck. Too Much.

"(Name), I'm, oh fuck-"

Sanji tried to pry you off, embarrassed at the thought of cumming in your mouth. You growled around him, swallowing around him. Sanji moaned, hips delivering a final stutter.

He came. Hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat. Sanji's whole body shook. You gently licked at him, milking him through his orgasm. When you deemed the man thoroughly spent, you removed the bullet and pulled him out of your mouth. Sanji looked at you with frantic eyes.

"Spit that out!" He hissed, afraid to be heard. This was embarrassing. He hadn't even touched you yet, and here he was, trying to get you to get rid of his cum. Sanji felt himself grow light headed as he watched you swallow, your throat bobbing with the movement.

"You know we don't waste food Sanji. And how could I turn down such a treat?" You laughed, voice raspy. 

Sanji whined. How dare you use his words against him! He felt awkward. You pulled his underwear back up, patting his hip. 

"Lemme touch you!" He pleaded. You laughed. "No, really. Let me eat you out!"

You flushed beautifully. "Oh. Um. I don't think you want to do that!"

Sanji huffed. "I do! You're not gonna use that stupid toy, sit on my face, please darling." 

You squeaked. "No! I'm not gonna sit on your f-face! And it's not stupid. Made you cum."

Sanji rolled his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks. "That's not hard when you're involved. Please?"

"I'm too heavy and I won't taste nice! N-no!" You scrambled to the other side of your bed while Sanji pulled his pants back up. His eyes softened.

"That's not true. I'm sure I don't taste good." He faltered when you shook your head. He tried to muster up his signature charm. "Oh, you're worried you're too addictive and I'll never leave you alone?" 

That drew a laugh from you. Sanji smiled. "C'mon love? Can I...can I finger you at least? Really wanna touch you."

Your face was glowing red, eyes shifting away from him. "Oh. Um. I suppose that's okay."

Sanji leapt off the bed. "Good! Yes! Get comfy!" He watched as you settled where he'd been, clearly feeling embarrassed. You covered your stomach with your arms. Sanji frowned. "Love... You know that won't do."

"Ah. Sanji c'mon." You pleaded.

"Uh uh. You were so confident before. C'mon lay back. Just relax, I won't bite, unless you want me to?" 

There was that cocky grin you found so endearing. With a sigh, you sunk back into the mattress, letting your hands fall to your side. When you nodded, Sanji took that as his cue. 

Fervently he scrambled onto the bed, pinning you under him. He began peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He was acting like an overexcited puppy. You captured his lips in another searing kiss. Sanji rested a hand on your waist, causing you to gasp. Sanji greedily took advantage of this, licking his way into your mouth. You whined. You heard Sanji groan, evident he could still taste himself. 

He pulled back with a pop and you startled at the look he gave you. It was so full of love and warmth, lust evident. He gave you a wink, before he ducked down to start kissing you everywhere. Your non-existent collarbones. He sucked lightly over one of them. You squeaked. He kissed his way down your breasts, free hand groping your smple chest. Sanji grinned against your skin, pleased with the noises he was getting. He trailed both hands to your back, rubbing soothing circles. You sighed as he explored your back.

When you felt his practised fingers make quick work of your bra hooks you gasped, red faced. He pushed them out of the way, lightly clawing at your back. You felt like fainting when your strap started to fall. What if he was disgusted? Sanji felt your breath picking up. 

"Oh my dear! Don't be scared. I'll take good care of you I promise! May I see them? I dream of them! You wouldn't deprive me of such a sight?"

You smiled at how cheesy he was. With a light cough you nodded. You wanted to cry at how gentle he was treating you, hands rubbing both your arms. You began to relax. Sanji grinned, eyes wild, as he pulled the straps down your arms, He gestured to the cups, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed, nodding. He really knew how to ease the tension. Sanji looked awestruck as he pulled your bra away, discarding it off the bed. 

"Wow."

Sanji's eyes were positively sparkling, You watched as he nodded, seemingly at nothing, face dangerously red. With shaking hands he reached up to cup your breasts. He let out a shuddering breath. You felt your weighty breasts being lifted, Sanji supporting them with a blissful smile. He bounced his hands lightly, watching as they jiggled. 

"So hot. Better than I imagined."

"Yeah?" You tried not to sound too hopeful. Sanji grinned, squeezing experimentally. A cute whine ripped its way out of your throat, head lolling to the side. He was so gentle. You felt guilty for teasing him. "I'm sorry for teasing you. You're so cute you make me wanna make you blush."

Sanji stilled. "Oh. I...I don't mind. It's kinda hot. I'll get you back, don’t worry. Right now, wanna make you feel good."

You tried to push down the butterflies when Sanji kissed your tits as his hands reached your shorts. Embarrassment overcoming you, you buried your face in your hands as he popped open a button.

"Love? We can stop if it's too much?"

"No." You whined behind your hands. "Been a long time, and you're so hot. Don't want you to be disappointed. 

"I'm flattered. You know I could never be disappointed (Name)." 

Butterflies multiplied when he spoke your name. You nodded, wincing as he played with your zipper. With a sigh, you peeked through your hands. The breath that left you was airy and shaky. 

"Okay."

Sanji shot you a dazzling grin. "Then hips up my love!" 

You obeyed him, and watched as he dragged your shorts down, not stopping till they hung off one foot. With a shake of your foot the offending article hit the bed. Sanji gasped, cooing at you.

"Ah, your panties have little kittens on them, so cute." 

You froze, face dangerously red. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eyes as you floundered beneath him, stuttering. 

"I didn't know we were gonna...y'know? Wasn't like I wanted anyone to see 'em. It was uh....laundry day?" Your protests fell on deaf ears.

Sanji chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously. "It's cute. So cute. Can think of another pussy I'd like to see."

You swatted at him in embarrassment, he dodged you playfully. 

"I understand why you enjoy teasing me so much. Your face is so cute, love. May I?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Sanji grinned. Stupid cook. The object of your affection studied you, clear he was savouring this. You squirmed. Sanji rested his hands on your plush hips. 

"You're going to have to spread your legs sweetheart." Sanji bit his lip when you squeaked in response. "C'mon. Let me make you feel good."

Sanji watched, utterly enraptured as you shuffled, spreading your thighs apart. Your thighs looked so inviting, all he wanted to do was bury his face in there and lap at you like a man starving. But he'd respect your wishes, there was always next time. Eyes flicking upwards, he took into account how you weren't looking at him, eyes scrunched shut. 

You startled when Sanji crawled between your legs, hands cradling your thighs. The touch tickled and burned, sending electricity buzzing through you straight to your core. Sanji slid a hand up your inner thigh, resting at mid thigh.

"Fuck." You heard him swear, voice full of awe. "You're so wet."

A squeal escaped you and you tried slamming your thighs shut, but Sanji had caught them, staring. You cracked an eye open and gasped, thighs shaking. 

Sanji was practically drooling, biting his bottom lip. "You're SO wet..." He trailed off. You felt a hand gently hook your thigh onto his shoulder. He kissed the skin softly, relishing as you quivered under him. "Fuck. You gotta let me eat you next time."

Next Time. The thought made you lightheaded. You whined. Sanji soothed you, rubbing circles on your thigh. When you pried your eyes open you found the man staring directly in your eyes. You startled. Sanji maintained intense eye contact as you felt his knuckle run up your clothed slit. You muffled a shriek, blush returning tenfold. Sanji smiled, eyes turning back to your pussy. You shook as his fingers danced over you, pushing the fabric against you. When he caressed the area you moaned. 

"As cute as these are, can I please take them off?" Sanji pleaded playfully. 

"Please." You nodded. 

You squirmed as he began pulling your panties down, hands tickling the skin uncovered. 

"Okay baby, knees together." Sanji coached, picking your other leg up to join the one on his shoulder. You mewled at his gentleness, feeling him drag your underwear down. You tried angling your hips away from him, instead giving him a good view of your rear. "What a cute ass." He mused, continuing to trail the fabric to your feet. With nothing but gentleness, he slipped the underwear off you, balling the fabric up. 

You were too busy trying to disappear and hide your nakedness from the man, so you didn't notice how he rubbed it between his fingers before stuffing them in his pockets. He'd make sure you didn't even realise they were missing. He salivated at the thought.

In the meantime you had clamped both hands over your sex. Sanji tutted at you. That wouldn't do. With a sigh he gripped your right leg, beginning to pry them apart. You shrieked, pointing your knees inwards.

"(Name)." Sanji warned. When you didn't respond he swatted lightly at your ass. He grinned when you rewarded him with a squeal, bucking your hips away from his hand and towards him. He'd file that away. Sanji sighed. "Darling please. I'll die if you don't show me that pretty pussy. I'm trying to be gentle, but knowing what's behind those hands, I want to wrench your thighs open." 

Sanji watched you surreptitiously rub your thighs together. He cocked an eyebrow. So you were enjoying this. An over-dramatic sigh escaped him. He'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sure you could fight, but Sanji was stronger than you, and when he wrapped a hand under your thigh, thumb wrapping into the inside near your apex, you knew you were fucked. 

"Darling. You can be a good girl and show me, or I can do it for you." When you continued squirming and stuttering Sanji tsked. "Then I'm sorry (Name). You can get me back later." 

You squealed when he yanked your thighs apart, quickly slotting himself between your legs, rendering you unable to close them fully. If your face got any redder you'd faint, and it was a very likely possibility when you felt his hands circle your wrist. The switch to being more dominant was making your head spin. Sure, you adored submissive Sanji, but the idea that he was acting like this because he wanted to see you that badly ignited you. 

"Sorry my love." He apologised before wrenching your hands back. You tried desperately to slap your thighs shut, squirming in his hold. All this did was rut your sex closer to him. You heard Sanji groan, causing you to go deathly still. 

"F-fuck."

Fighting the tears in your eyes you avoided his eyes. Sanji breathed out a long sigh, the air hitting your sex. You whined. 

"Holy fuck. Gorgeous." 

You stared down at him. Sanji's eyes were glued to your pussy, pupils dilated. Anxious, you fiddled with your fingers. Sanji kept muttering praises, rubbing your thigh reassuringly. 

Shame flooded you when you felt him spread you open with two fingers. A loud squelch rewarded the man, and he clearly enjoyed it. 

"Oh fuck! Love, love, please?"

"Yeah." You breathed out. Sanji grinned up at you before turning his attention back to his prize. With his index and middle finger he parted your labia back open, whining at the wetness that greeted him. He gently prodded you with his thumb, causing you to jump and whine. 

Sanji acted like a man possessed, thumb rubbing circles, gathering up your juices. He ground his thumb against your clit, causing you to moan and squirm against him. He pivoted his hand position so just his thumb was on you, rubbing sweet circles on the nub. Your body was abuzz with pleasure, clit throbbing.

"Here we go, my love. Tell me if you don't like it." His honeyed voice kissed your ears. All you could muster was an eager nod.

Thumb still stimulating your clitoris, you felt his pointer circle your opening. Pleasure overtook you, helping abate some of your nerves. The long digit dipped into you and you squeaked. Sanji took this as a good sign, and he slowly sunk the finger inside you, curling up at the end. When you big out a low moan Sanji knew that was the spot. He rubbed the rough spot gently, causing tears to spring to your eyes. 

Sanji's movements grew clumsy, causing you to stare down at him. The sight that greeted you caused you to choke back a laugh. Sanji growled, crooking his finger and making you whine. 

Sanji was deep in you with one hand, the other was struggling with your vibrator.

"How do you even turn this thing on?" He growled, grinding his thumb a little hard when you giggled. 

"Twist the base. No, no the other way...There you go!"

Sanji withdrew his other hand, causing you to mourn the loss. He grinned up at you. "Here we go darling!"

You blushed as he spread you open again, hearing him sigh in awe. You bit back a moan when he pressed the vibrator against your clit. Sanji grinned at how you shook. With a cheeky smirk, he plunged a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a gentle rhythm. When you began squirming, Sanji took that as a sign to add another finger, making sure to crook them just right.

Sanji took you in. You were panting, moaning freely as he pleasured you. He watched mesmerised at how your chest heaved, your hands playing with your nipples, a hiss tearing from his throat. That was hot. He became more desperate to make you cum. 

The vibrator cranked up in power, causing you to moan wantonly. Sanji crumpled himself against you, hand pumping furiously. The vibrator was firmly dancing against your clit. With his free hand Sanji slapped one of your hands away. You wanted to protest, but then he began sucking harshly at your tit. A whine echoed through the room when he bit down on the skin. 

Your moans pitched up in tone and frequency as you reached your end. Sanji stared up at you, in awe of your reactions. He felt your thighs quiver, a wave of giddiness washing over him. He could do this all day if it meant you'd react like that. He resumed sucking and nibbling at your breasts, his ego inflating at the way you chanted his name. He liked this version of you, too caught up in pleasure to worry about how you looked, or how you sounded. Even if it drove him wild, he really loved when you were confident.

"There we go my love. Let go. So hot."

You had tears in your eyes, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. "Oh Sanji...you're so good to me. Good boy." Your voice hitched at a particularly hard bite. "Oh! I-I'm gonna cum b-baby."

Sanji whined against your sweaty skin. "Cum for me (name), please love."

Stars burst behind your eyes as you reached your white hot peak. You clenched around his fingers, walls spasming. Sanji marvelled at how you threw your head back, brows knitted together. Your fingers clawed for purchase, one settling in his locks, the other scratching at his neck. Sanji groaned. You uttered a stuttered call of his name. Sanji felt his mouth go dry as you came, wet squelches reaching his ears, and watching as your back arched beautifully.

You fell back into the bed, completely spent. Sanji fumbled with the vibrator, throwing it aside when he couldn't turn it off, simultaneously removing his fingers gently, eyes blown wide at the cum decorating his digits. He couldn't stop himself, trying to sneakily guide his fingers to his mouth. You watched, mesmerised as he began licking the digits clean, humming in delight. A gasp tore its way from your throat. Sanji froze, fingers in his mouth.

"M'sorry." He mumbled around his fingers. "Really wanted to taste you."

"And?" You breathed out, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Sanji sucked them clean, then pulled the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. You cringed at the lewd sound. "Oh love, it's exquisite."

He climbed his way on top of you, collapsing against your chest with a huff, earning a giggle from you. You placed a kiss into his hair. Sanji snuggled deeper, trying to crush you in a hug. Happily, you felt him shiver as you drew circles on his bare back. The small grunt he made causing a languid grin to spread across your face.

"Was that okay?" The tentative voice you spoke with sounded foreign to you. Sanji laughed, kissing your skin.

"More than okay. Would you let me make love to you when I'm hard again?"

Sanji preened at the delighted sound that rewarded him. "I would love that." You paused. "Hey Sanji?" 

The tired man hummed, feeling you fiddle with his hair with one hand, the other splayed on his back. You were silent. He tilted his head up, peering up at you through heavy lashes. Your eyes were big and nervous.

"I kinda...like you, you know? Like...love you."

You felt the breath knocked from your lungs at the dazzling grin that spread across his face. He pushed himself up, pulling his body upwards so he could meet your eyes. 

"Yeah?" He breathed. You nodded. Sanji captured you in another kiss. "Love you too my sweet." You grinned, causing the man above you to kiss you repeatedly. You pulled back cheekily.

"Even liked the vibrator?" Sanji scowled but nodded faintly. You giggled, dropping your voice low. "You know you can get one that goes around your cock? Stops you from cumming without permission."

A soft whine ripped from Sanji's throat as he stilled, burying his face in your neck. You raised a brow.

"Are you fucking hard again?"

"Sorry darling."

[bitchlessdino]

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

duties of the local hotel manager lesbian, plus one very desperate snake man

Sir Pentious: "PLEAAASSSSSE!!!"

Vaggie: "Ugh.” (reading clipboard) “Not now."

Sir Pentious: "PLEASSSE HELP ME!"

Vaggie: "I'm busy."

Sir Pentious: "PLEASSSSe? I will do anything! I, ah, I will do ALL the THINGSSS!!"

Vaggie: "I'm not giving you dance lessons! Do you know what my job here is?"

Sir Pentious: "YES! You are the expert in the loving of women!!"

Vaggie: "I'm hotel manager, and it's one woman singular-"

Vaggie: "Hostia! Let go!"

Sir Pentious: (clinging to her ankles) "I AM BEGGING YOU!"

Vaggie: "And what did I just say? No!"

Sir Pentious: "Help me, purple female! You're my only hope!!"

Vaggie: "Stop calling me that." (starts walks)

Sir Pentious: (still clinging) (getting dragging) "Forgive me! I will call you anything you want, anything you desssire!"

Vaggie: (glaring) (dragging him) "How 'bout my name."

Sir Pentious: "Your... name??"

Vaggie: "That thing I have that no one other than Charlie ever bothers to use-"

Vaggie: -just like the fucking hotel doormat."

Vaggie: "Alright WHO TRACKED BLOOD AND GUTS IN HERE AGAIN!?"

Charlie: (distant) "Not it!"

Sir Pentious: "I'm alssso innocssssent!"

Vaggie: (at charlie)"I know it wasn't you, sweetie! You like the brushy sound the mat makes too much NOT to use it." (at pentious) "And no shit it wasn't you, Pentious. You don't have legs."

Sir Pentious: "And I alwaysss wipe my tail!"

Charlie: "Speaking of wiping, can we add some more disinfectant to the shopping list? I think I'm about to use all ours up..."

Vaggie: "Sure thing. Use it up on what though?"

Charlie: "We-lll..."

Angel Dust: "Hey don't look at me like that, Cheery'O! Not my fault ya walked in without knocking first!"

Charlie: "Angel." (deep breath) "The library is a common area..."

Angel Dust: "Any common area can be a CUMming area if ya jerk at it hard enough~"

Charlie: "VAGGIEEEE! Disinfectant?!"

Vaggie: "On it." (scribbling on clipboard) "No problem."

Sir Pentious: "SSORDID SSSALASCIOUSS SPIDER! Sssee? Aren't I a better guessst than he isss? Perhapss dessserving of one, ssssmall favor?? I do not befoul the hotel with my bedroom bodily fluidsss!"

Vaggie: "No, you just keep blowing holes in it."

Angel Dust: "Ohhhh! Blowing!"

Sir Pentious: "Aha! Not thiss week I haven't!!!"

Charlie: "Angel, not that I don't appreciate the help but, could you maybe not lounge right on the shelf I'm trying to look through-?"

Vaggie: "Really? No major property damage in seven whole days?"

Angel Dust: "I'm finding the perfect book for ya, Charlie chip. Here, look!"

Sir Pentious: "Oh ah, welll, there might be a sssmall hole sssomewhere.."

Charlie: "...you know Moby Dick is about a whale, right?"

Vaggie: "I guess it's still improvement."

Angel Dust: "And gaaaaaay shit yeah."

Charlie: "I'm kinda looking for a bedtime story..."

Sir Pentious: "Improvement yes exsssactly! Jussst has my DANSSCING could be improved!"

Angel Dust: "Two dudes share a bed an' everything in this and ya share one with Vaggity Fair. Perfect fit, I tell ya."

Vaggie: (groaning) "Not this again...."

Charlie: "...I guess.. she does like nautical things like ships..."

Charlie: ".. hey why are some pages stuck together OH ANGEL DUST EW!"

Angel Dust: "That's a five star review right there ain't it?"

Charlie: "I mean I GUESS so but UGH!"

Vaggie: "Charlie? Content warning for the book- the whale kills Ahab at the end."

Charlie: "He WHAT!? No!"

(thump)

Charlie: "BUT- but they're FRIENDS! BESTIES!"

Vaggie: "Not when your dad isn't reading the story sweetie, sorry."

Charlie: "Nooooooo...!"

Angel Dust: "Eh, nothin' some porn without plot fic can't fix. You can be the whale mermaid, V Gal can be the broody crazy ship captain, an' by the third paragraph someone's getting harpooned reeeeeal good and deeep-"

Charlie: "Stop helping me, please."

Angel Dust: "Nah. I'm too booored. Ya place is booooring, Charlie chip."

Sir Pentious: "I disssagreee! WHOLEHEARTEDLY!"

Charlie: "Thanks, Pen!"

Sir Pentious: "YOU ARE MOSSST WELCOME!"

Sir Pentious: (stares up at vaggie hopefully) (tail wagging)

Vaggie: "Pentious...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Look. How the fuck do you even expect me to teach you dancing stuff when all you have is a tail? Do I look like I know how to do tail dances?"

Sir Pentious: "I DO NOT KNOW! I have no expertissssse in dancssssing! That issss why I sssso dessssperately require your help, oh wissssse and fearful hotel manager!!"

Vaggie: "Still not my name."

Sir Pentious: "PLEEEEEEEEESE-"

Vaggie: "Hold that thought. TO THE OTHER NON-CHARLIE IDIOTS LIVING HERE! Why won't you use the fucking doormat? What the fuck kind of first impression are you trying to make the hotel have!?"

Husk: (slumped over bar) "If we were aiming for a fucking honest impression, we'd need more blood and shit in this place."

Niffty: "Ooooh~" (puts two bugs and some ice in cocktail shaker and shakes) "Blooood."

Husk: "Case in fucking point you little creep."

Niffty: (GIGGLES)

Sir Pentious: "I! I think thisss isss a fine and upssstanding essstablissshment!!"

Husk: "Then you're a dumbass."

Sir Pentious: (HISS) "Ssslander! I DO NOT EVEN HAVE AN ASSSS!"

Vaggie: "Ignore him. Go back to sleeping off the hangover, Husk. You're still shit company right now."

Husk: (grumbles) (curls up under wing)

Niffty: (drapes washcloth over him and pulls out needle) "Blooood..?"

Vaggie: "No Niffty, whoever did this should deal with it this time. You go, uhhh- go catch and juice some more cockroaches or something-"

Angel Dust: "DID YA SAY JUICY COCK-"

Vaggie: "ROACHES YOU MORON! Bugs! Small unsexy creepy crawlies! And so help me you'd BETTER be unsexily helping Charlie decontaminate the library or I sWEAR-!"

Vaggie: "Wait I know those stupid dancing shoe tracks- maldita sea-!"

Vaggie: "ALASTOR!"

Alastor: (oozing from shadows) "Yeeees~?"

Vaggie: "These your shoe marks?"

Alastor: "Indeed they are! And I am TOUCHED you know me so well!"

Vaggie: "Wipe your feet next time. Or do I need to grab you by the scruff of your neck and rub your face in the mess you've made?"

Alastor: "Oh that won't be necessary my dear, even if you WERE capable of it!"

Vaggie: "So you know how to use a doormat?"

Alastor: "Of course~ I am QUITE skilled-"

Vaggie: "Great. Then wipe your feet."

Alastor: "..Now?"

Vaggie: "Now."

Alastor: "......"

Sir Pentious: (tugging at his pants leg) "Do asss sssshe ssasys, pleasse! I need her in a good mood!"

Alastor: "Hm..."

Alastor: (steps out of each and onto the mat) (whips shoes)

Alastor: "Satisfied?"

Vaggie: "Getting there. Now clean up your mess before Niffty has to."

Alastor: "Oh I wouldn't want to DEPRIVE her! All that fresh blood and viscera? You know how much she adores-"

Vaggie: "Then she can go out and clean the streets of hell in her free time for all I care but in this hotel she is not gonna waste her time picking up after you just because you can't be bothered to show her, or the HOTEL, a little fucking respect. You clean this up. Got it?"

Alastor: "You know, my dear." (shadows looming) "I'm not entirely certain you yourself 'get' wHo you ArE tALkINg TO....."

Sir Pentious: "AHHH!" (cowers behind vaggie) "SSSAVE ME MOTH WOMAN!"

Vaggie: (at alastor) "Ohh. Terrifying."

Vaggie: (at pentious) "Also not my name."

Vaggie: (at charlie) "Charlie!"

Charlie: (distracted) "Listen to Vaggie, Alastor! She's hotel manager for a reason- Oh EW what oh shit-"

(cRASH)

Vaggie: "Babe?"

Charlie: "I'm okay, I'm fine!!! We didn't need that glass cabinet anyway, not after what Angel Dust did all over it yesterday!"

Angel Dust: "SIX TIMES bab-y!"

Vaggie: "I don't want to know." (points at alastor) "You heard her."

Alastor: "I.. did."

Vaggie: "Then get cleaning."

Alastor: (sweeping bow as shadows start cleaning) "My pleasure my dear! Anything to stave off the inevitable FAILURE of this quaint little venture and so prolong your DAILY SUFFERING~"

Vaggie: (checking clipboard) "Uh-huh whatever."

Vaggie: (heads for door) (stops)

Vaggie: "Pentious. Let. GO."

Sir Pentious: "But-! Danssscing???"

Vaggie: "No."

Sir Pentious: (wailing) "Mercy, spear wielder! Take pity on meeeee!!!!!"

Vaggie: "Spear wielder? Seriously? Are you allergic to my name?"

Sir Pentious: "H-how could anyone be have an adverssse reaction to ssssomething sssso marvelousss ass-"

Vaggie: (crosses arms) "Then say it."

Sir Pentious: "Errr..... it???"

Vaggie: "My name."

Sir Pentious: "Oh! OH YESSS your NAME of coursssse!! Which issss lovely, but ah. Ah- that would be too- it would be too INFORMAL! Yesss! I am not worthy!"

Vaggie: "You don't know what my name is do you."

Sir Pentious: "I DO!!! Obviousssly!!"

Vaggie: "Then say it."

Sir Pentious: "Um..."

Vaggie: "Say my name, one time, and I'll pencil you in later for dancing tips."

Sir Pentious: "......that'ssss very.. generoussss... yesss, thank you...."

Sir Pentious: "...Erm...."

Sir Pentious: "....Miss... Morningsstar'ssss mate?"

Husk: (SNORTS)

Alastor: "Well I DO suppose that one COULD say~"

Vaggie: "I'm leaving." (pries pentious off) "Don't follow me."

Sir Pentious: "AH NO! NO I KNOW IT!!! Your name isss- VAGELISS!"

Vaggie: "Charlie? I'm heading out now, okay babe?"

Sir Pentious: "V- VIGILANTY???"

Charlie: "Okay! Love you, kissing you, missing you already! Be safe!!"

Sir Pentious: "VIRGINA! No ah, no wait-"

Vaggie: (blows kiss in charlie's direction) "Love you too sweetie~"

Sir Pentious: "You are VIRGINITY!!!!"

Husk: "HA."

Angel Dust: "Is she?!"

Charlie: "Noooope!"

Vaggie: "My name's a lot less ironic than that. Life didn't shit on me that hard." (heading out the door)

Sir Pentious: "NooooOOOOO!" (wiggling after her)

Sir Pentious: "Sssweet lesssbian, ssspare me! I would be on my kneesss if I had any! SSCION OF SSSSSAPPHO I IMPORE YOU- APHRODITE HASSS SSSTRIKEN ME WITH LONGING FOR A PYROTECHNIC HAZZZARD!!!!"

Vaggie: (stops)

A bug: (scurries by frantically) (pursued by cackling niffy)

Vaggie: "...you know Sappho's stuff?"

Sir Pentious: "Yesss? Ssshe isss, one of the greatessst loversss of women in hissstory! Asss a fellow lover of women, I admire her greatly!!"

Charlie: "Oh my dad- my dad and mom did to!!! Neat!"

Vaggie: "Hmm. I... guess..."

Sir Pentious: (eyes huge) "You, guesssss..?"

Vaggie: "Fine. I'll trade help with the shopping bags for a couple of dance lessons tonight. Fair?"

Sir Pentious: "Yess? YESSS! Mossst fair!" (claps hands) "MINIONS-!"

Vaggie: "No minions. You want the lessons you carry the bags."

Sir Pentious: "Ma'am!" (salutes) "My noodlessssque armsss are at your sssservissce!"

Vaggie: "I guess they're also gonna be what we mainly focus on in dancing."

Sir Pentious: "Oh- isss the bag carrying, for practicess then??"

Vaggie: (flexing shoulders) (wincing) "Uh, sure."

Sir Pentious: "P-practicesss for dipping my dansssce partner, or for getting dipped???"

Vaggie: "Whatever floats your boat. Ship. Whatever."

Sir Pentious: "Then I sssshall do my besst! Anything for HER!!"

Vaggie: "That's the woman-loving spirit."

Sir Pentious: "Ssssweet victory ssshall be mine at lassst! By the way, what ISSS your name?"

Vaggie: "You were close. It's very gay."

Sir Pentious: "You are miss Very Gay???"

Vaggie: "These days? Yeah. I sure am."

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XI

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

next part

"You can't call me that here!" You hiss, taking the final steps out into the summer nights breeze.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" Coriolanus asks as soon as the door to the back of the building shuts behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet alley behind the Hob.

You groan, dragging your hands over your face. "I had nowhere to go."

"Well, I... what happened?"

"Does it really matter?" You just shake your head looking up at him now, face red with anger. "If we're gonna talk, how about we talk about how you tried to drag me down to hell with you, huh? How about we talk about you showing up after trying to ruin my life and kissing me like I'm some kind of object to you! After all this time! Let's talk about that!"

Coryo takes a sharp breath in, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You're not an object." He says, a hint of disgust in his voice, upset that you would even imply that he felt that way.

"Funnily enough, that is the bottom of my list of concerns right now!" You laugh dryly. "I thought we were friends! I thought you cared! And maybe that was stupid of me but don't come back now saying that you do." Your narrowed eyes are rimmed with tears now, and he can see that you're hurt despite you trying to shield it in anger.

"We are friends, I-"

"No, Coriolanus, we aren't, because friends don't do that!"

"Will you stop fucking interrupting me!" He shouts, making you jump. He's fed up with you always having to have the last word. "For once, just one time, will you let me explain?"

You just stare at him, jaw grit as you look up at him. You've never looked softer, your clothes and your hair are so loose and freeing and unlike you and you've somehow never looked more like yourself.

"I'm sorry. Okay?" He says, taking a hesitant step closer to you.

"Is that all you've got?" You scoff, nodding to yourself and pushing past him to walk back inside.

He can't let you go again, he just can't. He grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Y/N, listen, I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it, I shouldn't have pulled you into that but they already knew and I just wanted to be able to help you." Internally you roll your eyes, relaxing your arm so he knows you won't run. You'll hear him out. "All I wanted was for you to come with me, I thought they would ship us off together."

"Me? As a peacekeeper? Un-fucking-likely." You reply bitterly. "Did you think that through for even a second before you decided that I would be better off with you? Or were you just scared of being alone?"

The question makes him pause, which was enough hesitation for you to pull your arm away and start walking off toward the street. "Tigris wanted me to tell you they love you, by the way!" You call back over your shoulder, turning the corner and disappearing out of his view.

You walk around the building and back to the front entrance, hoping you could lose him in the crowd if he decides to follow you. You were no longer in any mood to dance, that's for sure, so you would just wait for the show to end in the back where you first talked to Lucy Gray again. You push through the abundance of people dancing, the music blaring in your ears. You make it to the desolate hallway, attempting to gather yourself before you really start to cry.

"Y/N?" You hear someone call from behind you, and you turn at the use of your real name. It didn't sound like Coryo, or any of the Covey band.

"Sejanus!" You squeal, running back toward him and tackling him in a hug. "God, I have never been happier to see your face in my life." You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Likewise." He chuckles, rubbing your back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm great." You grin, taking a step back to talk to him face-to-face instead.

"We have to find Coriolanus, he'll be thrilled to see you." He says, looking over his shoulder to see if he could spot the blonde anywhere in the crowd.

"Ugh." You groan, rolling your eyes. "No, I saw him."

He snaps his head back, looking at you confused. "You don't seem happy." He observes, stating the obvious.

"Tell me, Sejanus," You muse, resting a hand on your hip as you shift your weight. "If you had someone you perceived as more than a friend take the liberty of framing you for something that could cost you your whole life when they knew you were innocent, would you forgive them if their only apology was a kiss?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew you were stretching the truth, but Coriolanus had done the same thing, clearly, so what was the harm in wanting Sejanus on your side?

"I... what? No, he didn't- he didn't tell me that." He looks shocked, looking back again to see if he could see him.

"Well. That's what just happened, weirdly enough." You laugh, shrugging to try and portray that you don't really care much more than that.

"I- um... We were told you were sick." He changes the subject now, something you're happy about because one more thought about Coryo and you might be in tears; or you might start throwing things.

"Sick? No." You shake your head. "I ran because if I hadn't, I'd be six feet under in the Capitol cemetery by now, no doubt. That or I'd be lacking a tongue."

"Oh, wow." He doesn't know what to say, so you just hum in agreement. "Coriolanus almost convinced me you were dead, but I knew better. They couldn't kill you if they tried, I don't think."

You chuckle, shrugging slightly. "Well, yeah. So that's been my life recently. Now I'm staying with Lucy Gray." You explain. "But what about you? You follow out here Coryo too?"

"More or less." He nods, a slight smile on his face. "Hey, uh, I've got to go, got some business to take care of but we'll get together again soon, okay? I'm really glad you're alive."

You nod, hugging him again. "Yeah, of course. I'm staying at this ugly, old grey house at the edge of the seam, past the end of the road. There's goats out back, you can't miss it. You'd think there's nothing out there, but trust me, we'll be there. Come by sometime when you're free, okay?"

"Will do." He agrees, hugging you back for just a moment. "I'll see you soon, Miss Sage." He teases, giving you a polite bow before turning to return to the party. You furrow your brow a bit as he almost directly approaches Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's ex alongside one of his scummy friends, but you decide to mind your business. Sejanus was always too nice to everyone for his own good, anyway.

"Y/N's here." Coriolanus states, both him and Sejanus helping to carry their intoxicated bunkmates back to the barracks. "You see her?"

"I did, yeah, I talked to her." He nods, eyes straight ahead as their shoes crunch over the gravel.

"You talked to her? When?"

"A little after her performance, she was heading to this back room. Seemed awfully upset."

Coryo sighs. "What did she tell you?"

"That you betrayed her." Sejanus answers simply, adjusting his friend's arm over his shoulder. "That she was going to be killed or worse if she stayed."

"That's not-" Coryo thinks it over. "I didn't betray her, Sejanus. We know one baseline thing about Y/N Y/L/N and it's that she is, if nothing else, dramatic."

"Really? I wouldn't describe her that way." Sejanus argues subtly. "She's outspoken, maybe slightly obnoxious at times, but I feel like I am too. The one thing I know for sure about her is that she's not a liar, Coriolanus."

Coryo doesn't know if he's more angry about Sejanus calling you 'obnoxious' or framing it so nicely that you don't keep your mouth shut when you probably should. You were his girl, his. No one should talk about you like that but him- praise you or critique you all the same. You didn't know it yet, necessarily, but you were his to protect and to fix, if need be. You were rough around the edges, that's for certain, but you would mellow out eventually if you ever forgave him. "She wouldn't let me explain."

"Oh, was this before or after you kissed her as an apology?" Sejanus matches the heavy statement with a laugh and Coryo rolls his eyes at his response.

"I just, I needed her to know I did it because I care. I thought she was dead."

"Okay, well, she told me where she's staying. Told me to stop by on a day off." Sejanus admits. "Maybe you should come with me."

"Maybe." He agrees.

It was another week of torturous loneliness before Coriolanus was graced with a day off, and not even so much graced as he had to trade with one of his bunkmates to have the same day off as Sejanus. As soon as they ate they grabbed a couple bags of ice to bring with them to help you and your new friends beat the heat- a peace offering, of sorts.

The early August sun beat down on their backs as they walked through the Seam, a decrepit and rundown residential area that Coryo had no doubt had never seen a single air conditioner in all its days. There's no way you were happy here. Even with the lightness of his t-shirt and the early hour, he still had to fight the urge to remove it and instead drape it over his head to shade his skin from the sun.

"There's nothing down here. She lied to you." Coryo mutters as the already crumbled road falls into nothing more than a trail.

"Y/N said we had to keep going past the road." Sejanus says, looking back at him over his shoulder. "You want to hate her so bad, but you can't."

"I certainly can." Coryo grumbles in denial. "She's giving me the runaround. Obviously, she gave you fake directions-"

"Are you sure about that?" His friend replies smugly, looking through the overgrown trees ahead at a small grey house circled in by a white fence that hadn't seen a wash in years.

Coriolanus doesn't say anything, mentally rolling his eyes at being proven wrong. "Alright, go knock, then." He gestures for his friend to go ahead.

"This is your big plan to win her over? Hide in the bushes while I go in?"

"No. I'm just sure she lied and a local drunk is about to open the door with a gun pointed at your head."

"Suit yourself." Sejanus replies lightheartedly, practically skipping up to the door and giving it a few gentle knocks before taking a step back.

It's only a few moments and lots of chatter from inside before the door is swung open. "Hello there, what can we do ya' for?" Lucy Gray grins, and Sejanus looks pointedly over his shoulder at Coryo.

"Hi, I'm Sejanus, I'm a friend of Y/N's from back home." He explains and she smiles.

"Of course! I thought I recognized you, come on in, she's out in the back but you can just pass right through." She lets him in, looking at Coryo standing just outside of the fence line.

"You coming, Coriolanus?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as she holds the door, leaning against the frame.

He plasters on a smile, nodding and walking up to her on the porch that he's shocked doesn't collapse under his feet. "How are you?" She grins at him. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He nods. "I'm glad to see you made it home safe."

"Hey, well, welcome to the club." She chuckles, closing the door behind him. "Y/N's just out back." She points toward the back door. "But she's not too keen about seeing you, you know."

"So I've heard." Coryo sighs. "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why are you here?" She asks her previous mentor calmly. He's stumped by this, unsure how to respond. "Well, if it helps, I'm real glad you're here. I missed you." Lucy Gray promises, leading him to the back door and swinging it open.

Your head turns at the appearance of Coryo's silhouette on the back stairs. You internally groan, of course Sejanus would bring him. "And you brought Coriolanus." You smile bitterly at your friend, sliding an ice cube from the bag across your bare collarbones over the shirt you had now cut the sleeves off completely to turn into a tube top.

"Yeah, well, I figured you might want to actually talk." Sejanus offers, raising an eyebrow at you.

"We wanted to make sure you were doing okay here. Living up to your high standards." Coryo replies for you.

"Do I look uncomfortable to you?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip. "Well, now you've seen it all. Thanks for coming, Coriolanus, but I'm clearly happy here, so you can be on your way. Don't you have a rebel to shoot at?"

"Hey, woah-" Sejanus chuckles, holding his hands out to you in mock surrender. "Y/N, we just wanted to visit. I know I speak for both of us when I say that we've missed you."

You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. You were nothing if not polite, raised to be a flawless hostess in your own home. "Alright. Sit." You gesture to the patch of grass next to you, by the little garden you're digging into to start some fall flowers. You've always wanted to try a garden, but your family paid people to do that and you didn't have the time, so why would you?

Lucy Gray and Sejanus do most of the talking, and you try to avoid looking up much from the dirt you're digging up and the small seeds you're planting. Coriolanus is sitting too close to Lucy Gray for your comfort, but you've been working on your temper, and until he showed back up it was going really well.

"Lucy Gray!" Billy Taupe calls from the front of the house, drawing all of your attention. You'd seen more of him than you have cared to since you've been here, he just won't leave her alone.

"Oh lord, here we go." She huffs, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"I'll come with you." Sejanus offers quickly, standing as well. You're reminded of how, apparently, he and Billy Taupe know each other but you still can't understand why. The two of them disappear around the side of the house, and you're left alone with Coriolanus.

You keep a straight face, continuing with your cycle. Dig a hole, move the dirt, bury the seed, water it, repeat.

"What are you planting?" He decides to break the silence, moving a little closer to you and leaning back on his palms.

"Flowers, some fruit." You mumble back, keeping your focus on your hands.

"Isn't it a bit late in the season?" He asks, head tilted as he watches you.

"Raspberries are perennials." You reply plainly. "And roses bloom until late fall, do they not?"

"They do." He nods in confirmation, smiling a little to himself. Raspberries and roses together. He wonders if you even know what you're doing, or if this was a subconscious yearning you didn't know you had; to be with him in every form.

"Then there's no harm in planting them now." You say, stopping to take a quick break. You lean back on your calves where you were kneeling, grabbing the ice bag that is now mostly melted to drink out of. You hold it out to Coryo when you're done, shaking it when he hesitates to take it from your hand. "Drink. It's hot, you'll get dehydrated quickly even just sitting out here."

Coryo takes it at that, looking away quickly when he catches that glimpse of pity in your eyes, the same look that plagued him in the weeks leading up the the games and after he thought you died. He hated it until then, but now, maybe it wasn't so bad. At least you were looking at him, and it seemed like it was some kind of inherent need you had to take care of him. The thought of that made his stomach flip.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you." You say suddenly, catching him so off guard he almost spits out his water. District life really must have been changing you, and it was worse than he imagined. It wasn't just the loose-fitting clothes that were one stitch away from falling off of your frame, however breathtaking they may somehow look. Now, Y/N Y/L/N was in the business of issuing apologies? Someone call a doctor. "I shouldn't have said... that. It was cruel."

Coryo nods slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I figured you didn't mean it."

"You were lucky they had already decided my guilt. I would have torn your head off by now, otherwise." That's the Y/N I know.

"Sejanus told me they were going to execute you."

"Well, not necessarily." You sigh, pulling your skirt back out of the way before digging your hands back into the dirt. "It wasn't stated, but it was service that was suggested. Possibly nursing, probably under my father back home. When I climbed out my window, they were discussing the possibility of having me turned into an Avox. Highbottom said I knew too much, but I know my father would rather shamelessly bury me than have his oldest turned into a symbol of rebellion." You explain, now seeing no harm in telling him the full story.

"What do you know, anyway?" Coriolanus asks. It had been bothering him for a long time, and up until a week ago, he thought you took those secrets to the grave.

"That he and my father are proprietors of the largest drug ring Panem has ever seen." You answer simply, a smug smile taking over your features as you press some dirt carefully over a planted seed. "The main storage is in a secret room in our wine cellar, an old bunker from the war. I stumbled into it when I was thirteen-ish. I mean, you wouldn't believe everything they had down there. I haven't seen anything like it. Actual gallons upon gallons of morphling, other addictive crap that'll ruin your life, even weed." You giggle, sitting back again to gesture with your hand how big everything is.

Coriolanus can feel his eyes going wide at your confession, and he stammers. "I- wow, uh..."

"Come on," You chuckle, tilting your head at him like it was obvious. "Doctors don't have that much power unless they're a game maker Like Gaul, or have that money to start. They make money, sure, but not like that."

"Well," He swallows, nodding slightly at the intake of information. "That explains you being able to walk all over Highbottom for so long." He chuckles. It all makes so much sense now, how both you and Highbottom have a seemingly endless supply of morphling on you, and your father had a decently sized sought-after medical practice, but nothing that could add up to the amount of power and influence he possessed back home. "And the weed you brought to Livia's seventeenth birthday party."

You laugh. "No one even knew what to do with it- we were all so damn sheltered." You hum, matching his smile. "Still, don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head.

"You sure? Because last I recall, you did snitch on me, Snow. And frame me, if I’m remembering correctly…"

Coryo sighs. "I know, I know... But I did mean what I said. I just- it was stupid, but I thought I could protect you. Genuinely."

You don't seem mad anymore, just smiling at him. "I know." You say, voice so sickly sweet and soft in a way he had only ever heard from you once before; when he was on the verge of a panic attack in the arena. You had told him that soon it would all be over, simultaneously you were right but you also couldn't have been more wrong.

You needed him to believe all was forgiven, and the small look of satisfaction on his face proves to you that it has worked. From here, the games were back on.

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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[hey-august]

ANGRY BUGGY I’m screaming I’m giggling I’m kicking my feet.

Being a crew member never really made sense for you, I mean there’s no reason you can think of why he would want you to join his crew. You’re not very talented like the others and you really only ever clean, but you guess that’s reason enough if they just needed a maid, and you’re more than happy having somewhere to sleep at night.

You don’t notice the longing longs and stolen glances, too busy trying to earn your keep on a ship your thankful to have been given a home on. Paying no mind to “accidental” touches or brushing up against you, after all it can get pretty crowded and you’re all working in close quarters. Nothing seems off when you catch him watching you clean, he’s in charge and must be making sure you’re doing your job. You have no reason to think the Captain even knows your name, let alone thinks about you late at night.

Only that changes when he comes back to the ship, drunk and angry after a failed outing. He sees you dusting? He thinks? Not really sure he doesn’t pay much attention to the actual work your doing, but he does see /you/. You give him a half hearted smile to try and avoid confrontation with your clearly upset Captain. Only for him to knock whatever your doing out of your hands and pin your back to the wall. You look surprised and he’s not sure if your fucking with him or just oblivious, you /must/ have noticed how much better he treats you than the other crew, right? That you have to have seen the way he watches you work and how his eyes drift across your body? The only thing Captain Buggy is sure of is that he need to make sure you know, tonight.

Anooooonnnnnn, I'm SO SORRY I kept this for so long.

It's just so wonderful and I wanted to add to it. Time and motivation were working against me, but HERE WE ARE. Finally spending time with our angry clown. 🩷

This was unplanned and got out of hand, like usual.

WC: ~800 Warnings: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, mentions of drinking, insertion sex, angry sex, sorta dubcon (in my head, they both want this), profanity

Nothing - nothing - is going right and it's infuriating. Fucking frustrating. Yeah, he can be a piece of shit, a freak, a loser, but this is fucking ridiculous.

Months of planning and Buggy had nothing to show for it. Sleepless nights spent studying maps, gathering intel, spreading rumors - all for shit and empty hands.

And the moment he lays eyes on you, the anger surges through the liquor burning his insides. Months of planning on how to get closer to you, to get you under him, also resulted in fucking nothing.

You don't notice the way Buggy stares at you like a hungry wolf. You apologize for being in the way when he purposefully brushes his hand against your ass. You didn't question it when you were scheduled to clean his room. You didn't even bat a fucking eye when you walked in the first day and he was laying in bed. Sure he had underwear on, but seriously? You couldn't tell he was coming on to you?

And it's happening again. You're cleaning. Dusting the shit on his shelves. You manage to squeak out some bullshit apology when Buggy slams the door open. Just a little more and then you'd be out of his way.

But that's not where Buggy wants you.

Buggy keeps his eyes open when he kisses you. He wants to see you. The shocked expression on your face is both rewarding and aggravating.

"You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you," Buggy spits out.

"I don't- what-"

Your words are cut off by an aggressive kiss. Rough and overwhelming. His tongue invading your mouth, his teeth nipping your lips, bruising you.

Breaking the kiss, Buggy presses his forehead against yours. Heavy breaths fill the room. He's finally touching you. He finally has you in his hands. Your taste in his mouth. He should be happy. But no, this success doesn't clear the irritation running through his veins.

"Pull down your pants and turn around."

Buggy waits, wanting to see if you'd listen. And if you didn't, if you left... well whatever. Fuck you, then. And fuck him, ending up with nothing again.

There's barely enough time for his deprecating thoughts to depart before you undress just enough for him to see how aroused you are.

You want this as badly as he does. So why did you make him wait this long?

Rough hands spin your around. "Keep still," Buggy demands while he works to free his aching cock with one hand.

He hisses when bobs and rests against your ass. Your perfect ass. Fuck, he ruts against you, rubbing his erection on you like he's dreamed so many times before.

"Please," you whimper, legs shaking with each tantalizing movement.

The audacity. The fucking audacity you have.

"Please? Please? You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this and you want me to hurry?"

You shake your head but any words that you might say are chased away by pleasure and pain. By Buggy shoving himself in your needy body and his teeth digging into your shoulder. He bites harder and groans as your body clenches and squeezes around him.

His hips are pressed tightly against you and he starts thrusting, hardly pulling out while continuing to bully his way deeper.

Your gasps and moans are a reward. Your white-knuckle grip on the shelves is encouragement. Your body accepting his brutal thrusts is heaven. But Buggy wants more. He deserves more.

A hand in your hair yanks your head back, turning you into a fountain spilling filthy sounds.

Not enough.

His fingers find their way in your mouth and down your throat. You choke and sputter around the intrusion but make no move to pull away. Each gag has your body clenching around him harder. 

A touch on Buggy’s wrist guides his other hand down between your legs. He’s sure you’d say “please” again in that adorably pitiful voice if you weren’t letting him fingerfuck your mouth.

“You fucking- fuck,” Buggy huffs, his hand moving frantically to bring you over the edge before he falls over himself. “You like this, don’t you?”

The high-pitched whine that you manage to push out around his fingers is Buggy’s undoing.

“You better fucking come on me now,” Buggy hisses while his thrusts become erratic and his hands start to shake.

Your legs shake when you catch up, your orgasm ripping through your body. His cock pulses and throbs as he fucks through your orgasms, drops of cum escaping every time he pulls back.

Eventually, heavy breaths fill the room again. The air is hot. It smells of sex, sweat, and alcohol.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence.

The soft tone in your voice is too much. The little flicker of anger in Buggy’s body is gone. He rests his head on your shoulder in defeat and nods. He does feel better. 

“Will you stay?” he asks quietly, lips pressed against your damp skin. He wraps his arms around your torso and holds you tightly, not ready to end this moment.

You nod and the next morning finds you both asleep in bed, utterly worn out and completely content.

[agoldenblackbird]

i'm gonna be a ranty bitch for a minute.

tbh i'm turned off even reading new buddie fic despite being a multishipper and have unfollowed a bunch of buddie accounts because i'm sick of the smug attitudes. one ask that i am otherwise not going to publish or respond to ended with 'sorry you don't understand media literacy bestie :)' fuck off. listen INFANT, i have been writing fanfic and original fic AND watching, reading and analyzing queer media since before you were born, i understand how character and story development works, and i know the difference between 'storyline i personally disliked' and 'bad writing.' this was BOTH, and it also was marketed to us as 'carefully crafted bi rep' and 'queer love story that is not about a bunch of pain and conflict FOR ONCE' so we have every right to be upset at the bait-and-switch.

the fact that i'm seeing the same exact posts - 'bt bones buddie CANON' that i saw three seasons ago after the bucktaylor breakup, or every time they thought buck and taylor MIGHT break up - says something. the fact that so many fans seem genuinely convinced (STILL!) that buddie is inevitable because there have been so many 'signs,' and then they rattle off a convoluted theory that would make the most hardcore taylor swift stan say 'wow, that's a bit of a reach,' honestly weirded me out a little when i first joined the 911 fandom. i have never been in a fandom where so many fans are insistent that their ship will be - not might be or could be, but WILL be - canon. i am skeptical both from past experience with other shows mishandling queer storylines or ship-baiting, and tim minnear's proven track record with this one of not really knowing what to do with buck's LI's. but i didn't want to yuck anybody's yum, so i let them have their theories and squee in peace, and unfollowed or blocked certain tags if i was seeing too much of it and getting annoyed. it's too out there for me, but i'm glad they're having fun!

yet they can't give us the same courtesy. they deride us as delusional for thinking that a canon pairing that was presented to us both in promo and the show itself as different and important (eg the bobby approval convo and 'buck getting off the hamster wheel') might last, and we're stupid to have ever liked tommy or lou or be disappointed at how the breakup was written, and if we point out the biphobia it's just sour grapes.

the bucktommy breakup is not the first time 911 has started out strong with an interesting storyline and fumbled it in the 4th quarter either because the writers got bored or in the name of needless drama/a 'gotcha' sudden twist. amir & bobby, eddie's fight club arc, the sperm donor SL, hen vs councilwoman ortiz, whatever the hell is going on with harry, the whole mess with shannon/kim, just to name a few. and especially the past couple of seasons, for me since 6b, the pacing has been off. they seem to have too much happening at once and many of the storylines don't have enough room to breathe to be narratively satisfying, or they get resolved in ways that feel lackluster.

if the toxic buddie stans who have been attacking lou on sm and sending death threats (wtf!) actually get what they want, which i admit is possible, but it's certainly not guaranteed….i don't know why they think the writers won't fumble that just as badly. it's not going to happen precisely the way they want it to because it is impossible to please everybody, that's what fanfic is for. but at this point i have zero faith that it would even be well done at all, and zero trust in the writers not to just sabotage or regress a character for funsies, and that's an excellent reason to stop watching the show. in most of my other fandoms i regard canon as a jumping-off point or a blurry outline at best, and i can have just as much fun in the 911 sandbox without any further input from canon at all, once i'm less angry.

[littlemisskookie]

Crocodile Tears: Chapter 2

Crocodile Tears: Index  Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS  Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!Taehyung, Sub!Reader, A/B/O Roleplay, Choking, Headlock/Chokehold, Slapping, High Sex, Intercourse, Primal Play, Outdoor Sex, Kinkshaming?, Overstimulation, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Oral, Blowjob, Deepthroating, Edging, Really just PWP, Also Praise Kink somehow?,Taehyung has a ridiculously big penis, Taehyung is SUPER mean, like, very sadistic, lots of ABO names used a lot so if you don’t like that skip, Weed Word Count: 6,197 A/N: sorry for the wait. Here’s this!

You stepped out of the bathroom after cleaning yourself up, praying to god no one could smell the sin coming off you in waves. Jungkook provided no comfort, either, only giving a teasing grin as you stepped out. "Looking kinda wobbly, Y/N."

"Don't tease me," you hissed, trying to ignore the echoes of pleasure still residing in the pit of your stomach. Your hands roamed over your neck, faintly tracing at the marks Jungkook had left. You couldn't bear to stare at them any longer in the mirror, but one look at you and everyone would see what you were up to. "How am I going to hide these from the others?"

Jungkook shrugged. "Don't really see a point, honestly." You glared up at him, his lack of concern for your situation irritating you. A whining beep emitted from the laundry room you were previously in, and Jungkook's on the move. "I've got an idea."

Jungkook came back with an oversized hoodies, probably one of Namjoon's, straight from the dryer. You beamed up at him, grateful, reaching out to get it. He held it away from you, however, a sly tug at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you. "Nah ah, give me a kiss first."

You flushed at his words, quickly rising to your toes to reach him for a kiss, yanking the hoodie for your own as soon as your lips meet Jungkook's. He doesn't let it remain short, however, leaning into you and pulling you against him to kiss you deeper. He hums against your mouth, only pulling back when he felt you were wanting a bit more. "You wanting to smoke again?"

You're yanking the toasty fabric over your head as you contemplate the question. Jungkook had fucked one high out of you to replace it with another. Truth be told, though, you were still too anxious to return to the living room where the majority of the guys would be. You still couldn't face the predicament you were put in, and who knew what the afterglow you emanated would reveal to them. You couldn't risk it. "Do you know where I can find any? I don't want to be a bother to the other guys."

There seemed to be a knowing glint in Jungkook's eyes when you say that. "I think there's a bong on the back porch. Why don't you check over there?"

You were surprised that Jungkook didn't insist on coming with you, but figured you needed the break. Being around Jungkook was intense enough as it is, and you didn't want anyone to be able to tell right now that you two had fucked. Guys typically paid attention to that sort of thing, and with your different clothes and mussed up hair you were basically begging to be teased- in more ways than one as evident by the men you've encountered tonight.

You were not granted the liberty of being alone, however, when you stepped onto the back porch.

"Oh, Taehyung, sorry to bother you." 

Taehyung was sitting on an outdoor sofa, bong in one hand and phone in the other. He ignored the woods before him, an acre or so of land that Namjoon's parents owned in addition to the house. He looked up from his phone to grin up at you, smoke curling around his lips. "Y/N! Come join me."

You obliged and sit down next to him on the couch, grabbing the bong and taking a hit from it. You enjoyed the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs and muddying up your mind, giving you a hazy high that rivaled that of an orgasm. Taehyung's droopy, red-tinged eyes roved over you, lingering your lips pressed against the top of the bong as you took a hit. He bit his lower lip, pinching the thick fabric of your hoodie and tugging you closer. 

You shivered under his intense gaze, suddenly feeling too warm. The hot summer night suddenly made the amount of clothes you wore suffocating, but perhaps the added heat was due to Taehyung's stare. You ignored the lingering effects of the brownies, assuring yourself that was the reason behind your horny thoughts and need. You had just been fucked by Jungkook- but here you were feeling excited over Taehyung's bit lip and touchiness. You obliged, letting him pull you to sit over his lap, your back turning against the woods behind you.

Taehyung pulls the bong towards him, encouraging you to light the bowl. He takes a hit, inhaling for as long as he can before putting his hand on the back of your neck, tugging your face closer to his. For a moment your heart raced, thinking he was about to kiss you. As though knowing what you were thinking, however, he cruelly smirked, hand sliding towards your jaw. He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips to part open as he blew smoke into your mouth. You inhaled it, only closing your lips once Taehyung finished and moved his hand over your mouth. "Hold it," he commanded, eyes dark as he watched you. You obeyed, letting it settle into your lungs, catching your breath so it wouldn't travel out. You did your best to suppress any oncoming cough, and after a few seconds Taehyung removes his hand. "Breathe."

You let it pour out from your nostrils, disappearing into the air and it wisps around your face. Closing your eyes, you imagined yourself as a dragon, the smoke warning of the fire inside you. You didn't feel very intimidating right now though- Taehyung held that power. Then again, when did he not? You're glad you were told to breathe, smoke or not, as you would've been anxiously holding your breath now in anticipation of his next move. He only looks up at you, relaxed eyes peering up at you. 

Weed was different from alcohol in certain ways. When you're drunk everything you're feeling comes pouring out. When you're high everything around you pours in. When you're drunk, everyone can see exactly how you're feeling and you're more transparent than ever. Being high, especially those who are good at it, made it far easier to hide your emotions. Taehyung was the type. You could never read his emotions or expressions when he was high, he was basically unreadable. Taehyung was always a little unpredictable like that. 

He rubbed the fabric of your hoodie between his fingertips. "I don't remember you wearing this earlier."

"Got it from the, uh, laundry room." Not a lie.

"Oh? Why? It's summer, and it's so hot out here. Aren't you too hot in this?"

"I'm fine, really, I was cold earlier."

"Are you cold now?"

"Well, no-"

"Take it off."

You stared at Taehyung, eyes locking. He said it so casually, but the small smirk on his face being your only indicator that this wasn't as innocent of a request as you'd like to believe. "Don't want you passing out from heat stroke, do we?" He tugged at the hoodie again, impatient. "Take it off."

His words left no room for argument. With shaky hands, you reached for the bottom of your hoodie, lifting it. Taehyung's fingers slid from the hoodie down to your bare thighs, hands running over the exposed skin and brushing over the hem of your shorts, but no further. He licked his lips, watching the hoodie fly over your head. "Well well well, where'd these come from?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingertips lightly brushed over the hickeys Jungkook left, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "I- um, I can explain-"

"Who were you in the laundry room with, Y/N?"

As though a deer frozen in the headlights, you felt caught. "I..."

Taehyung's featherlight touches became more sure and firm, his hand as now curling around the column of your throat with unquestioning authority. "Be a good girl and tell me."

You gulped, feeling your throat move under the pressure of his palm, unable to resist holding in the secret."Jungkook," you softly admitted.

Taehyung hummed, his pointer finger lightly tapping against the temple of your neck. "Figures that asshole would go before me."

You gasped in shock, eyes widening as you realize just what Taehyung had probably been doing on his phone when you walked in. "You know?"

He flashed his teeth, a smile gracing his features as he took in your surprise. "Mhm. Jungkook showed me it, said you airdropped it to him. Big reader, huh?"

As though on instinct, you jerk your neck back out of embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in shame where he couldn't see. You lifted your hips, wanting to jump off his lap to run away from the situation of being confronted. Taehyung has none of it, however, and pulled your thighs down to slam down against him. It's now that you can felt his erection against you, his grip forcing you to grind down on his dick. "Now, where do you think you're going, huh? I haven't even gotten my fun yet." He chuckled in your ear, his ministrations suddenly less gentle as he roughly grabs the back of your neck, the action so similar to what he did before. He brought your face close to his, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Wanna guess which one I was just reading?"

You squirmed on top of him, holding onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Biting your lip and shaking your head in embarrassment.

"But I think you'll like it," he laughed. "In fact, I know you will. It's one of the stories you touched yourself to, isn't it?"

"I-It's mainly just f-fantasies-"

"Your little fantasies about having big alpha cock to finally satisfy you?" Taehyung laughs sadistically in your face as he sees you whine in embarrassment. "Oh yeah, saw a lot of those, baby. Getting fucking bred and knotted, you just wanna be someone's bitch, don't you? I was just reading one about a little omega who needed an alpha to help her through... what's the word they used again? Oh right... her heat." He pressed you down harder against him, gliding your hips over him. "I thought it sounded a bit familiar..."

"It was an accident, Tae. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"But it's what you want, isn't it?" His nose nudged against yours, lips so close to yours, barely brushing as though to tease you. It was akin to the hanging grapes in front of Tantalus, but you may actually have a chance of getting what you so desperately craved. "Little omega just wants to be stuffed by an alpha, huh?"

You shuddered, fingers curling against Taehyung's shoulders. "Y-you're not being easy on me!" you whimpered out of frustration.

"Mm, I'm not, am I?" Taehyung's nose grazed along the side of your neck, his breath tickling your ear as you shivered in his grip. "I don't think you want easy, though, do you?"

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, unable to deny his accusation. "No... I don't."

"Hm," Taehyung hummed, slightly satisfied. His hand slid from behind your neck to caress your cheek. He tilted his head, still not giving in. "Yeah? Wanna be my bitch?"

"So bad," you admitted, finally giving in.

Taehyung finally rewarded you, connecting your lips to his. Kissing Taehyung, to put it bluntly, was hot. He was slowing down at the parts that he wanted to drive you crazy, and overwhelming you the next second. You kept up as best as you can, Taehyung's kiss making you hornier than ever. You had no doubt that even without the weed or the aphrodisiacs, he would have been able to get you aroused with a mere kiss. By the time you're pulled back, you're breathless but wanting more. 

Taehyung seemed to know how good of a kisser he was, his satisfied expression from winning taking over his handsome features. He wasn't done conquering, though. Far from it. "Strip."

Taehyung's bluntness was still alarming to you. "Here?" You were outside. Anyone could walk outside and see you guys. Sure, there were only woods outside and no nearby neighbors, so the only ones who would see you would be the boys. You were having issues of your own with them already, though.

You're brought to surprise when Taehyung's palm struck your face, stinging your cheek. "A good omega does what their alpha tells them to do," he growled out under his breath. "Don't you want to be a good bitch for your alpha?"

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes as you got to work. You lifted your shirt and shorts, but were unsure whether you should leave your underwear on. Taehyung answered for you, an impatient and irritated tone lacing his voice. His hand landed against your ass, smarting the skin. "Are you stupid? All of it."

You obeyed until you were completely naked before him. You were glad for the summer air warming the night, but felt horribly vulnerable being so exposed in the open. If anyone saw you, naked, on top of a full clothed Taehyung, what would they think?

(Part of you was really excited to find out.)

"Go on and spread your legs. Let me see how wet a real slut gets."

Your face burned with embarrassment as you hesitantly do as told.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Taehyung didn't seem concerned in the least. His eyes glazed over your naked form, appreciating and admiring the view before him. His hands ran over your thighs, but remained respectful. Taehyung would be good, for now. "Nervous, little omega?"

"J-Just f-feel so embarrassed-"

"I think you like it, though," Taehyung grinned, his hands venturing up your waist and to your breasts. He fondled you before attaching his lips to one of your nipples, sucking and licking at the bud while keeping eye contact with you. You wanted so desperately to close your eyes and look away from his dark, piercing gaze, but remembered his words. He let you go after giving a small nip with his teeth, making you squeal above him. "Think you like being humiliated and exposed like this. Slapped around and treated like a toy. You secretly love this." You whimpered as Taehyung's hand ran over your folds, still slightly swollen from Jungkook's earlier battering. "Jungkook did a real number on you, huh?"

Your knees buckled into the chair cushions as Taehyung's fingers rubbed circles against your clit. "He was real mean to you, wasn't he sweetheart?"

You nodded pathetically, accepting the sweet kiss Taehyung's offered to your pouting lips. "It's ok baby," he said comfortingly. "I'm gonna be even meaner."

He plunged two fingers inside, movements hard and deliberate, making you practically crumple on top of him. He waited until you're practically quivering on top of him to stop, pulling back. You blinked in confusion as he lit the bong beside the two of you. He lit the bowl, inhaling to let the smoke fill the clear glass. "I'm gonna give you a head start to run into the woods. You have until I clear this and come catch you."

"What happens if you catch me?" you questioned, trying to regain composure, already off kilter from his rough fingering that left a pleasurable ache in you. You knew you were going to be sore by morning. 

"What do you think? I'm gonna fuck you full of cum right where you stand," he informed you, taking the first hit of the bong. He blew the air out with nonchalance, as though he hadn't said what he said."I suggest you get started on your head start."

You weren't sure you were able to process this at the speed it was going. You found yourself fumbling over your words, mind trying to keep up with what was happening.

"C-Can... Can I-"

"Can you what, sweet girl?"

"Can I at least put the hoodie back on?" You'd feel especially terrified if you had to run through the woods naked. The hoodie would be the only thing big enough to completely cover you.

Taehyung doesn't seem especially pleased by the idea, but relented, reaching down by your other discarded clothes for the hoodie. He tossed it your way, taking another hit. "Fine. Only because I don't want you to waste the rest of the time you have left. Otherwise I'd think you'd want someone to walk in on you being a slut on the back porch."

You quickly yanked the hoodie over your head and turn towards the woods. The light from the house and the full moon peaked between the leaves, acting as your only light. You were terrified, adrenaline rushing through you like never before as you dashed between tree trunks, leaves crunching beneath your feet as you tried to get as far away as you could. You felt the sweat against your skin on the thick material of the hoodie, and felt hot from the running. You weren't expecting to do a workout today. You shouldn't have dawdled so much. Taehyung probably had only one more hit at best from the bong before he was going to be hot on your tails. 

You ducked down behind a bigger tree, catching your breath and hiding away in the shadows. You tried to quiet your harsh breaths, heart pounding as you listened in on the night. Seconds passed. You heard nothing but crickets. You let out a sigh of relief, but it was too soon.

It started off as a faint, distant sound. The crunching of leaves beneath shoes approached. You heard the sound of steps coming closer, a few yards away. "Come out, come out, little omega. I want to hear you scream for me."

You held your breath, mind racing as you heard Taehyung get near. Your heart pounded in your chest and the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up. You peeked around the trunk to Taehyung, who was turned away, searching for you. Taking your chance, you leapt on your feet, running in the opposite direction towards the house. Wrong move.

Your anxiety peaked as you heard his footsteps get louder and faster the closer he got to you, his shoes causing the leaves on the ground to crunch loudly behind you, reminding you of your impending doom. You practically flew between the trees, dodging trunks and branches, not even looking back. You focused on the light from the house in the distance, a beacon you ran towards for safety. Your hair flew behind you, and you didn't dare look back to the man chasing you. You could hear him, though, his harsh pants as loud as yours. It was hopeless, though, as you were soon tackled, Taehyung's strong arms wrapping around you as you both fell on the ground with him on top of you. Luckily you weren't hurt, Taehyung's large body taking the blow as the two of you fell on the ground. It wasn't until Taehyung pinned your shoulders down to the grass that you were able to process what happened, the starry night sky and overhead branches spinning before you.

"Gotcha," Taehyung said with a breathless, triumphant- no, cocky!- smirk. 

You thought of all the items that you guys would get high together, and Jungkook would have the tendency to want to wrestle everyone in the group in a high stupor. As a result, you had participated in a few matches and knew all to well what it was like to be pinned down by Taehyung. In your high wrestling matches he would simply want you to stop moving, however, in order to win.

Now, he was wanting to dominate.

His hands enveloped your wrists like cuffs, locking you to the ground as he trapped you between his thighs. He sat down on your upper thighs, giving you no room to escape. You twisted underneath his grip, body writhing as you tried to get away, hopelessly stuck. He was breathing harshly, pants escaping his lips, nostrils flared. He snarled at you. "Get this stupid fucking hoodie off." He roughly tugged it off of you, practically tearing the article clothing off of you. You crossed your arms as he grabbed the fabric, trying to preserve your decency when exposed to both Taehyung and the night sky. It was pointless, though, and soon enough Taehyung is gifted with the visual of your naked form. He lifts you up to put the hoodie under you, the fabric replacing the rough ground and patches of grass beneath you. He grins a big, toothy smile when he sees your naked body beneath him. "There's my pretty girl."

Taehyung harshly grips your hips and forces them up, practically folding you in half as he pulls your lower half closer to him. You're leaning against your upper back now, shoulders pressed into the ground, hips suspended in the air to Taehyung's mercy. His hand reached out to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him. The lights from the house in the distance softly illuminated his features in the darkness of night, the shadows only making his handsome features more mysterious. "Told you I'd catch you, little omega."

"I tried-"

"I know you did, baby," Taehyung assured, arm curling around your leg to hold you up, fingers brushing against your folds. "Fuck, you’re so wet, huh? You liked being chased down? Like being a little afraid?"

"N-No, I-"

"So you’re a dirty little liar too? I can feel how drenched you are, stupid slut. You like a little danger, huh? Like being forced down?" You gasped at the feeling of him spitting on your pussy, and before you can respond his mouth is enveloping you, tongue rapidly flicking against your clit. He hums, sending vibrations through your body before he detached. "You liked the idea of being pinned and fucked where you stood, huh? Helpless to do anything when I make you cum over and over again?" Your back arches at his onslaught of impossible questions, fingers curling into his hair as your thighs trap him in, his mouth once again on your cunt. Your eyes twisted shut as you moaned from the onslaught of pleasure. You're overwhelmed, trying to squirm away from his skilled tongue, but seeing as you were practically folded in half, escape was impossible. Tears of pleasure were brought to the corners of your eyes as he switched to a suctioning sensation, and soon you were riding closer to the edge.

"Oh fuck! I'm gonna c-cum-"

Taehyung lifted up, giving you a moment to breathe as you come down from your edge. You frowned in disappointment, Taehyung's fingers coming up to your clit to replace his tongue not doing enough to satisfy you. "You can only cum if you call me alpha."

You give him a wide eyed look. "Tae-"

"Not Taehyung." His deep voice and raspy growl left no room for argument.

Cowering under his gaze and desperate for release, you caved. "A...Alpha."

His smirk of satisfaction was almost worth it in itself, but when his lips enveloped your clit without hesitation, you knew there was no turning back. You moaned out the new pet name over and over again until you reached your climax, Taehyung's greedy tongue lapping up your release and everything you had to offer. His eyes were locked with yours, eyes trained on your expressions as he thoroughly wrecked you with just his tongue. You were left limp and tired, Taehyung still holding your hips up to properly access his meal. It wasn't until you were lifted fully back to the ground that you were able to feel the ache in your upper back from the pressure put on it, but given the much more pleasure able ache in your pussy, you'd say it was a fair exchange.

Taehyung didn't seem to be done exchanging, however.

His hand fisted your hair and lifted your face to his, his mouth crashing against yours as his tongue delved into your mouth. The taste of your cum on his tongue sent your mind into a tizzy. Your head was spinning, still shaking in his hold from the tremors of your orgasm. You did your best to keep up with his kiss, but he devoured you completely, making you submit with just his tongue once again. You let out a gasp for air once he finally pulled away, but his pink, swollen lips tempted you to go in for more.

"Time to return the favor, omega," Taehyung said, licking his lips. "Take my cock out, baby. You've earned a taste."

Your face flushed at the insinuation that you've earned the right to give Taehyung a blowjob, but something about how cocky and arrogant he was, with plenty to back it up, made you squirm under his gaze. Though he had practically ripped your clothes off your body with demand, your shaky hands were far more subservient and methodical when you were pulling down his pants. 

You should've known Taehyung had an unusually- no, unfairly- large dick. The smirk that he wore once he saw the surprise in your eyes told you that he knew it, too. Your expression must’ve been one he was familiar with. You held it in your hand, surprised that your short digits aren't even able to completely curl around the shaft. Sick of your admiring and stalling, Taehyung delivers a swift slap to your cheek, drawing you out of your trance.

"What're you waiting for? Fucking put it in your mouth, bitch," Taehyung hissed, beckoning your lips closer to the tip. You did as you were told, obediently opening your mouth and offering a kitten lick to the tip.  Gaining more confidence, you put the entire tip in your mouth, laving your tongue around it to provide stimulation as you began bobbing your head up and down. Each time you went down you tried to take him in deeper. Luckily for you Taehyung's fist in your hair didn't force you further than you can take, instead helping you find your rhythm as you started properly fucking him with your mouth.

Taehyung's throaty growls and moans were likely music to your ears. Every curse that escaped his lips, every praise directed at you, turned you on even more. "Such a good girl, letting Alpha fuck your mouth like this," he groaned, tilting his head back to gift you the view of the column of his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing along his throat as he swallowed. "Fuck, gonna let me fuck your throat, omega? Want that?"

You nodded dumbly, humming around his cock. Your eyes widened, tears pooling in your eyes as Taehyung suddenly pushed you closer to the base of his cock, his dick plunging deeper into your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, yanking your head and bobbing your mouth over him over and over again. You focused on trying to breathe when you were pulled further up to the tip, and you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks already. You didn't want to stop, though. Taehyung's moans became later, his thrusts more sloppy and erratic as he used your mouth. "Fuck yeah, oh my god, such a good little slut..." he murmured, grunts emanating from his throat. "Mm, you love this, don't you? Love the taste of my cock, huh?"

Your were forced all the way down to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone as his full length sheathed inside your throat. You gripped onto his thighs, nails digging in as you tried to keep your place pressed against his body. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, his dark, sultry gaze encouraging you further to please him. You could feel his cock twitch inside your throat as he stared at your pretty face. “Fuck, look what you’re making me do to you,” he growled, as though all of this were really your fault. It felt like he was close to busting at any moment. After a few seconds, you were pulled off of him, spit falling down to your chin and chest as you were separated. You gasped for breath, coughing from his rough usage. 

"Mm, you did so well for me baby," he purred, thumb wiping away at your face as you stared up at him. He slapped his cock against your face, the wet smacks bringing a smile to your face. 

"W-Why didn't you cum?" you sputtered out, panting.

"The only place I'm cumming tonight is in your little pussy," Taehyung clarified, catching his breath. He offered himself a few strokes, trying to calm himself down. "Now, present yourself so Alpha can breed you."

You felt the blood rush to your face with embarrassment, but did as you were told. "Yes, Alpha." Your hands and knees pressed into the hoodie below you, and you arched, presenting your ass properly for Taehyung's viewing pleasure. 

His hands roamed over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He got closer behind you, bending over so his lips would be close to your ear. "You want Alpha's cock, baby?"

You nodded, shivering as his hand curled around your neck, and then his entire arm. His bicep flexed against your neck, holding you in a chokehold. "Yes!" You gasped out. "Wanna be a good omega for you. Want you to breed me. Please please please-"

Your begging was cut short when you felt the tip of Taehyung's cock against your entrance, and soon he was pushing himself in. One of your hands reached up to dig your nails into Taehyung's bicep, and he loosened his hold, letting you breathe. You moaned as you felt him slowly enter you, your slick from your previous orgasm allowing him to slide in. Had he not eaten you out before you doubted you would've been able to take such a big dick so easily.  He hissed with pleasure, a deep moan emanating from his chest. “Fuck, knew you’d have the perfect pussy. You’re so fucking tight. Always knew you’d get this wet for me.”

"F-Fuck! It's too big," you whimpered.

Taehyung only cruelly chuckled in your ear. "Yeah? Can't take it? When you begged so much for it? Acting like you don't want it when you're so wet and keep sucking me in?"

It was true. With each word he was only getting deeper in you until he was pressing against your cervix. You felt so full, you weren't sure you could take much more. Taehyung pulled his hips back, beginning to fuck you. You clasped at the hoodie and the grass, gripping whatever you could on the ground below you, whimpering as you took the brutal thrusts.

Taehyung's moans were more delicious than ever, now enjoying your cunt wrapped around him. His deep groans and grunts were now directly in your ear, letting you know just how much he was enjoying using your body for his pleasure. He dropped you from the chokehold, letting your chest fall limply to the floor, your hips still raised. His fingers dug into your hips as he slammed you back into him, his hips digging deeper into your ass. His hands pressed into your back, making you arch further like the pliant slut he knew you were.

He snickered as he saw your expression, a grimace of pleasure and tear-brimmed eyes, your sobs of ecstasy only bringing him closer to the edge. It was almost comical to him. "You're really fucking crying because it's too much? You begged for this. You should've thought about that before you decided to act like a horny little slut."

"I-It wasn't my fault!" You whined out, barely able to let out a coherent sentence due to Taehyung's rough thrusts. "The br-"

"Don't go blaming those, Y/N. We both know you wanted me to breed you like this long before tonight," Taehyung snidely remarked, his words causing you to hang your head down in shame. It was true. So often when you would read your smut you'd think of one of the guys in the love interest's place, the mere thought of them doing such taboo and pervasive actions making your heart race even when you were alone. For it to be happening in real life? Unreal.

"I did," you admitted with a sob, biting back an unseemly groan as Taehyung's large hand slid around your waist and to your cunt, cupping your heat and letting his fingers run along your sopping wet folds. "I wanted this for so long. Wanted you so bad, Alpha."

"I know, baby, I know. I'm here now," Taehyung assured you, his unrelenting digits on your clit and the battering against your g-spot driving you closer to the edge. You let out a high pitched whine, feeling your orgasm building up again. "Alpha's gonna knot you like the perfect omega you are. You gonna be good and take it all?"

You nodded your head rapidly, biting your lip as you felt your high approaching. "Yes, please! Give it to me. Gonna cum for you, Alpha."

"Yeah? My selfish little bitch is gonna cum again before Alpha gets to even once, huh?" The hand that wasn't currently determined to contribute to your undoing fisted your hair, raising you from the ground and closer to his body. Your back pressed against his chest and you arched, the pain of his fist pulling your hair and the sweet feeling of his mouth adding more hickeys to your neck making your head spin. 

"I'm s-sorry! I can't hold it anymore, please A-"

"Tch." He interrupted you with a rough shake of his fist, causing you to whimper in both pain and shame. You were unable to turn away from his unforgiving eyes, though, his grip stern and demanding. "I should've expected it from a horny slut who gets off to wolf-fucking. Thought you were a good omega."

"I am!" you persisted, thighs beginning to quake. Taehyung put more of his body weight on you, letting you feel the brutality of his thrusts as he tried to go as deep as possible, determined to wreck you with every fiber of his being. You started to be bent forward again, your back arching and your chest getting closer to the ground as you were folded to Taehyung’s whims. For particularly deep and sharp thrusts he’d stay buried in you for a few seconds longer, letting you feel his balls like pressing up against your cunt and making contact with the fingers playing with your clit. 

"You are?" A throaty chuckle vibrated in your ear. "Then why are you about to cum all over me?"

That's all it took for your last bit of resistance to be put down, and you let out a sob as you came harder than before, your legs quaking as you struggled to hold yourself up. If it weren't for Taehyung's firm grip you would've crumpled to the floor in exhaustion. Taehyung didn't stop, though, your orgasm only driving him into a frenzy as he snapped his hips into you at an animalistic pace.

"Stupid little slut," Taehyung growled, thrusts getting sloppy as he berated you. You squealed in pain as he slapped your ass, his blows brutal and swift, sparing no mercy. "Bad omega, cumming on my cock without permission."

"I'm sorry, Alpha!" you cried out, lips trembling as you felt him overstimulate you from one orgasm into another. Your body was unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure Taehyung brought. "Ah! Please, fuck, cum in me."

"Yeah? Want my knot? Want me to breed you?" Taehyung questioned, his growls turning closer to rasps as he got closer to the edge. "When you've been nothing but a- fuck, ah- dumb bitch?"

"Your bitch," you gasp out dumbly, your mind flying far into the heavens as Taehyung continued to fuck you with vigor. "Yours, yours, yours."

"Yeah, that's right." Taehyung smiled, hand sliding from your hair to your throat, squeezing as he felt your walls spasm around him as you entered your next orgasm. It was enough for him to be driven to climax, his warm cum filling you up as deep as he could. "My bitch," Taehyung confirmed, nails slightly digging into the skin of your neck as he emphasized it.

You panted for breath as you felt his cock twitch inside a few more seconds, Taehyung giving every drop he had to offer. You almost did feel like you were being knotted, the sore feeling in your body and Taehyung's enormous size making you feel just like those omegas in the smut you read. Eventually he dropped you from his grip, letting you slump down onto the hoodie beneath you. You whined at the feeling of Taehyung slipping out, though kept your ass raised obediently.

Taehyung cursed as he saw his cum dribble out of your hole and down your folds, the white liquids practically glowing under the moonlight. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, enjoying the sight. He offered a wry smile your way. "Good girl. You earned that."

[python333]

residual self-image — python³

― ― ― ―

synopsis residual self-image is the mental projection of your digital self; it refers to your own physical appearance that is understood by you, that is projected unto you by yourself. you see yourself as something to be ashamed of. price sees something different.

relationships platonic!captain price & gn!reader.

characters cap. price.

word count 7.6k

warnings anxiety/panic attack [not sure exactly how to classify it; i think it's more of an anxiety attack?], reader takes SSRIs [zoloft/sertraline], suicidal thoughts and almost-suicide attempt, reader is the most unreliable narrator known to mankind, second person pov [you/your/yourself], usage of [name], usage of [c/n] for call sign/code name, bad matrix references/spoilers for the matrix and the matrix: reloaded.

note please please PLEASE let me know if this comes off as me romanticizing having anxiety or taking antidepressants so that i can fix/rewrite it /srs i don't take any form of antidepressants or anxiety medication and i also am not diagnosed with either of those!! nothing i say is final!!! i do not have firsthand experience with what reader goes through in this fic!! sorry i disappeared for a second, have some food as an apology. again, feel free to correct me on anything you think is inaccurate and i will (most likely) change it!! also sorry for like 3k words of backstory oopsies

In The Matrix, Morpheus gives Neo two options: blue pill, or red pill?

He says that if Neo takes the blue pill, “the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe”. But the second option, the red pill, if Neo takes that, he will “stay in wonderland and [he] show [Neo] how deep the rabbit hole goes”. Neo, of course, takes the red pill, and is shown the “real world”. 

Neo is thought to be “the One”. With the “O” in “One” being capitalized, so you know that it’s a pretty important title. 

In the end, Neo becomes confident in who he is and what he can do, and defeats the “Agents”. Trinity confesses her love to a “sleeping” Neo, their ship is getting attacked by whatever those weird fuckin’ creatures were called, and Neo defeats the last of the agents. The end. 

You take pills too. But yours are blue. They’re matte, powdery, baby-blue pills that are branded with the name “ZOLOFT”. It’s sertraline, to be specific, and you’ve been taking it for the past few months. You’re new to pills like these, ones meant to treat anxiety and depression and a number of other medical issues, so you didn’t know how much to take at first. You asked your doctor so many questions. You think about it often, and wonder if, even though it’s their job, that doctor had gotten annoyed at some point because of your inquiry. 

These pills do similar things to the ones in The Matrix, though. You take them, preferably at night, and wake up in your bed like you always do. You believe whatever you want to believe, and another chapter is closed at the end of every day, marking another page closer to the end of your story. 

Some days, the story feels like it’s going to end sooner than expected. 

A side effect of sertraline―or, well, Zoloft specifically―happens to be suicidal ideation. It’s not that common, not that talked about, and isn’t the most well-known. But then again, most mental disorder-treating medicines have some kind of side effect like that, and plenty of people take things like antidepressants without an issue―or so you thought―so surely you could deal with something as simple as sertraline, right?

Wrong. So, so, wrong. 

It’s probably really bad for a person who works in a military group to be dealing with such thoughts. You think about quitting sometimes, for the sake of the other people in the task force, because what could happen if the wrong straw breaks the wrong camel’s back while you’re doing an assignment? What if, caught in the crossfire between your team and your enemy, you say fuck it and decide that it’s all just too much? What are the odds of that happening? What are the odds of anything happening? What were the odds of the Earth being created, of the first animals evolving, of the first humans speaking the first languages? Statistics are so important, chance is so important, and odds determine everything. What are the odds of you deciding whether or not you have the will to live? The ability to keep going, to keep the routine you’ve always kept, to keep from taking one of those G19s from the armory and turning off the safety before pulling the trigger? To commit to such a permanent solution, one you’ve deemed as the “s-word”, because thinking about it sometimes is too much.

Or maybe it’d be a rope, your brain continues without your consent, A chain. Anything that will hold your body weight up enough for you to dangle from the fan on the ceiling―an image that makes you lean towards a chain, sickeningly enough, because of the idea of your abnormally stretched neck on display. The purple bruising that would appear, the indentations of each link, the smell of your blood and the metal of the chain unable to be told apart. Maybe your eyes would still be open, and it would look like you’re staring down at anyone who walks into your office. There’s so many possibilities. They add up, and create new odds, new chances. Every time you simply think, you are creating a new way to go about life, and that creation is sometimes stored so deeply in the back of your mind that it haunts you. It comes back around, becomes more common, the chances of it happening go up. 

Sometimes the odds feel like they aren’t in your favor at all. Sometimes you wonder how you could’ve ever thought that any part of the universe was against you. It’s not bipolar; it doesn’t come and go in extremes, it just comes and goes. The odds will lower in your favor some days, and you will deem those days “bad days”, and other days they will be so high you don’t even think about “good days” or “bad days”. But those other days are almost as bad as the “bad days”, because they go by so quickly. You take them for granted so easily, too easily, and they leak through the thin lines between your fingers, leaving you with nothing by the end of the day. 

Sometimes on “bad days”, your hands go from cupped to praying, and you will plead with yourself to just get better. You never do, on those days, and after taking your medicine you will go to sleep and believe that the next day will be better. Or, at least, convince yourself that the next day will be better. 

You would’ve understood if Neo took the blue pill. If he stayed in blissful ignorance, even after all of the weird shit that happened to him. If he continued to wake up every day in a “normal” world, to sell computer systems and hacking programs, to be anyone but “The One”. 

Because that’s what you do. You take your medicine, and go on with life as normally as possible, even with all of the things that you’ve been through. You wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for saving the world, or beating up robot-alien-things, or whatever. Just like how you don’t want to be held responsible for really just… taking care of yourself. 

Which you’re shit at, by the way, if that doesn’t make things worse. 

You take your sertraline and that’s about it. It’s not like it doesn’t work, it’s just underwhelming sometimes. Before you got on it, you would take more things to heart, think about things more, and were probably a little more prone to actually killing yourself. After starting to take it, it was admittedly pretty rough. It felt like your anxiety had increased a little, like your paranoia had only heightened, and everything felt so elevated. 

Then, maybe a few months after beginning to take it, everything dimmed out. Like one of those lightbulbs you can dim, everything gradually came back down, and even lowered to a more tolerable level. You were glad, at first, that you had endured those first few months the way that you did because you’re not sure you would’ve even been here to this day had you not. Reading several articles and Reddit posts about Zoloft definitely didn’t help, especially as someone who was taking it partially for anxiety, but still, you managed. 

And then you realized that just taking the medicine didn’t do as much as you hoped it would. 

It helps you deal with anxious and depressive thoughts, yes, but you still feel like something’s missing. That lightbulb in your mind has dimmed, but it’s only just enough light to see ahead of you. Before all of this, the light was bright enough to blind you, to make you see that dreadful stark-white that still sometimes haunts you―when it dimmed down to where it is now, it was obviously a relief, but you feel like now there’s not enough light. 

You understand the whole point of the medicine is to dim that light, to help bring down your mental state to a more “normal” one, but you think that even people who don’t have diagnosed mental disorders feel strong emotions like you used to. Maybe not as strong, but definitely something adjacent to it. You miss that, funnily enough―getting strong enough emotions. 

Right now, you’re sitting at your desk in your office, staring down at the plate of mashed potatoes in front of you. You get it almost every time it’s offered, and endure the teasing you get from your teammates, all for one purpose. 

To hide your pills in it.

Mashed potatoes are starchy, yes, but easy to swallow without chewing. They’re thick enough to help hide the feeling of the pill going down your throat, and don’t leave that weird aftertaste in your mouth that taking your medicine with water does. You tried taking the pills with water at first, like you would with any other medicine, but with this specifically you just can’t. It’s too easy to notice, they’re too big to just hide with water, and it feels like swallowing a rock every time you take them with water. 

So, mashed potatoes it is. 

The pill is already mixed into it. You had folded the small blue tablet into the mushed vegetable with a plastic fork, trying to keep it as hidden as possible, making sure no hints of blue bled through the beige-yellow of the potato.

You’re now watching the mashed potatoes, unblinking, as if it’s going to grow legs and run away from you. It’s never truly easy swallowing the medicine, even with the mashed potatoes coating it, but it’s usually easier than it is today. Then again, today was deemed a “bad day” the moment you woke up, so this was to be expected. 

You grab the white plastic fork after a brief moment of hesitation and pierce the food with it, hand trembling ever-so slightly as you do―not from anxiety, but from your lack of water intake―and pick up a clump of potato with little strength. The vegetable oddly weighs your hand down the tiniest bit more than usual, but you ignore this in favor of pushing yourself to just force the food into your mouth. You try your best not to chew, your jaw only really moving to chew the side of your cheek instead to satisfy your urges, and eventually manage to swallow the food. 

Right off the bat, you can tell the cluster you swallowed had the pill in it. Lucky me, you think almost bitterly, not sure whether you should be happy or uncomfortable, at least it’s over with. It’s not that it’s a bad thing that you got to the pill so quickly, but usually you’re able to get a few bites of medicine-less potato in before the actual medicine itself. Nonetheless, you scoop up another fork-full―fork-full?―of mashed potatoes and try to eat as much as you can to get rid of the weird feeling of having a pill going down your throat. 

Just the fleeting thought of having a pill that big going down your throat makes it feel like your esophagus is closing. You feel yourself grow closer to nausea at the feeling, setting down your fork and pushing the paper plate of your dinner aside, just to rest your elbow on the table and put your forehead in the palm of your head. It’s bad enough that you feel ashamed because of the fact you even have to take antidepressants, so it’s even worse that those same antidepressants are throwing bad side-effects at you. 

Ashamed because needing medicine to function the same way anyone else does feels so pathetic to you. Maybe it isn’t pathetic. Actually, you know it isn’t; you don’t look at other people who do the same thing and think that they should feel as ashamed as you do. But you still look at your bright orange prescription bottle, labeled with your legal name, and think that you shouldn’t need it. 

You think, for a moment, that it’s because of how much you’ve dehumanized yourself. 

Dehumanized is such an ugly word, and it leaves a strange bitterness in your mind after thinking about it, but deep down you feel that it’s true. You know that you’re human, obviously, because physically that’s what you are. You are, undeniably, a homo sapien―a person, a living being that is a bipedal primate mammal. You, in a less literal sense, have those same cords attached to you that Neo did when he first went to the “real world”. 

But you need those cords, you think, lifting your head so that your chin is resting in your palm instead of your forehead, you need to stay attached to the Matrix. 

Because you took the blue pill. You found a way to keep yourself attached to the Matrix, to keep yourself grounded to what you wish you could experience without them. And those cables weigh you down, and that pod you stay encased in limits your movement―sometimes you feel more like the pod than the person inside of it―but it all seems so worth it to you, doesn’t it? To keep believing what you want to believe, to wake up everyday and dose yourself with that fifty-milligrams worth of sertraline hidden under a pile of food, to eat that food and swallow that pill even though it makes you feel like a mutt? 

You take a shuddering breath in, your thoughts building up in volume and mass, more questions entering your mind too fast for you to process them all. You feel that familiar rush of adrenaline, the kind that triggers your ‘fight-or-flight’. It lights your nerves on fire and causes them to jump, to electrify, and you feel your fingers twitch with the feeling. It almost feels like there’s something crawling along your nerves, under your skin, and the thought almost triggers your gag reflex. Your eyelids flutter, barely shutting for just a moment before you force them open. Your gaze flits over to the still-mostly-full plate of mashed potatoes. 

You’re usually able to finish them, even on “bad days”. But today, with nausea swirling uncomfortably in your stomach, and a too-big pill going through the thin tubes inside your body, you find that it’s much harder to even think about picking that fork back up. You can almost feel your heart beating through your palm, that continuous th-thump, th-thump growing exponentially faster, and your palm getting sweatier by the second. You shift your feet and find that invisible needles are poking at the bottom of them, small pins that push and prod at your skin that leave a strange hot-cold feeling. It forces you to take the pressure off of your feet by holding them up ever-so slightly, the soles of your shoes just barely touching the ground. 

You swear your heart rate increases at all the different sensations lingering on your body. You can feel your breathing starting to pick up, and for God knows what reason, you suddenly find it difficult to keep your eyes locked onto one object. Your gaze dances around the room as a surge of chills runs up your spine. A trail of goosebumps rises after each wave of biting cold, passing over the bony projections of your dorsum. After having so many of them, you know instinctively the signs of an oncoming anxiety attack, and know how quick those symptoms escalate from simple shallow breaths to the inability to keep your breathing consistent at all. Yes, they develop slower than a panic attack does, but the gradient from fine to not-fine is hard to view as slow when there’s so many symptoms to keep track of.

At the thought of such a thing happening, your gaze instantly locks onto the prescription bottle sitting on your desk. It’s still uncapped―fortunate for you, because you’re seriously doubting your ability to uncap something with a child-proof cap on it right now―and in your eyes is practically glowing. It’s so tempting, because it’s just right there, so easily accessible, so easy to just grab and pour however many pills you need down your throat. The thought makes you realize how dry your mouth feels, how constricted your throat feels, but your mind is too filled with a flurry of incoherent thoughts to dwell on such feelings. 

With your free hand, you grab the uncapped bottle. It shakes with your hand, now more from your building anxiety than your dehydration, and makes the tablets inside rattle. You bring it to your lips, ignoring the chiding voice in the back of your mind telling you how disgusting it is to just put it on your mouth like that, and shake it just enough to get a single pill out of it. The dryness of the pill sticks to the wetness of your mouth, just below the border of your bottom lip. You set the bottle down and poke at the pill with the tip of your tongue, the weird vanilla-like taste of the medicine spreading across the muscle easily. 

Your mouth is dry, so you have to use the residual saliva sitting on your tongue to slick the pill up enough to go down somewhat-smoothly down your throat. It’s still rough, and some areas of the pill remain powdery, the feeling of it sliding down your throat enough to make you gag. For a brief moment, the action causes the pill to lodge in your throat―it’s not big enough to make you choke or anything, but it’s enough to make your heart beat faster and your hands grip onto the edge of your desk tightly. Your thumbs are tucked under the edge, the first knuckle at the tip of your finger bent and the flesh of the tips of your fingers turning lighter from the pressure. 

You cough once you feel the pill go down your esophagus entirely, and breathe raggedly afterwards. Deep down, you know that the medicine takes some time to work, and that if you gave it a little longer than a minute that you’d start feeling better. But the reeling anxiety that wraps around your throat like a chain seems to pull you impossibly farther away from that betterness, and forces your throat to tighten to a point where your breathing feels limited. You go from breathing through your nose to your mouth, where you can still taste the lingering artificial-vanilla with every inhale. 

It’s getting worse, an annoying voice tells you, one that manages to be louder than the others, the medicine’s supposed to help. You’ve only taken a hundred milligrams so far. Another and it’s a hundred and fifty. An overdose is only if it goes over two hundred.

It’s stupid logic but more tempting the more you think about it. It is, after all, only a third pill. You’d be pushing it—

Do you really care all that much that you’re pushing it? What if you want to break that limit? The limits you made, to keep yourself alive, that you still sometimes question the existence of? 

―but that doesn’t really compute well in your mind, and you soon find yourself reaching for the bottle again. Each pill shakes with your hand, and with each tremor another wave of tablets hits the sides of the bottle, like a visual representation of the thoughts that bounce off of the walls of your brain. You lift the bottle, and bring it to your lips, the area that makes contact with your mouth cooler than the rest of the bottle from earlier when you had done the same thing. You’re about to tilt it up before you hear a sudden knock at your door. 

The noise is startling and makes you drop the bottle, the pills spilling over the edge of it and onto the table. 

“Shit,” you curse quietly under your breath, quickly flattening your hand and sweeping all of the pills into a pile, and picking them up in clusters. You manage to get them all back in the bottle before another knock sounds out, and cap the bottle before opening up one of the small drawers on the side of your desk and shoving it in there. 

“Come in!” you call out in a strained voice, praying that you’ll be able to keep it steady for as long as the person at the door needs to talk to you. You close the drawer just as the door creaks open. 

Much to your horror, you look up to see your Captain. 

Your palms are still sweaty as he walks in, so you try to discreetly wipe them off on your pants, and hope to whoever can help you that he doesn’t pay too much attention to the sweat gathered on your forehead. You take a deep breath as silently as you can, attempting to gather yourself before Price can notice anything being wrong.

“It’s a quarter past two,” Price comments once he walks in, closing the door behind him, “why are you still awake?” 

You look over to the digital clock on your desk almost immediately and, oh shit, it is exactly 2:15. You look back over at Price, who is busying himself with pulling the chair that was once in front of your desk around it, presumably to sit next to you. You still feel the dreadfully fast pace of your heart, that th-thump, th-thump, th-thump that you can hear blaring in your ears. It makes itself known in your chest, in your wrist, even in the base of your throat―almost every pulse point in your body has forced you to become aware of its existence.

You swallow dryly, trying to ignore said feeling, and reply, “Why are you still awake?”

Price raises an eyebrow at you, pulling the chair up beside you and sitting down in it, “I asked first.” 

You look at him with an unimpressed look on your face. “Can’t sleep. Why are you up?”

Price hums and leans back in his seat, arms crossing over each other, “Same reason.”

It doesn’t sound like a lie, but it doesn’t sound entirely true either, in your opinion. It’s not that you don’t trust him, but he just seems like he’s up to something. What that something is, though, you aren’t sure. 

“Why the food?” Price nods over to the plate of mashed potatoes, very noticeably unfinished. 

Your gaze follows his to the mashed potatoes. You can still feel the moisture on the palms of your hands, the small tremors that wrack your fingers, and Price’s presence does nothing to soothe your flaming nerves.

“Wanted dinner,” you shrug as casually as you can, forcing a neutral expression onto your face―you briefly overthink what a neutral expression looks like, and decidedly just let your face relax the best you can, “I didn’t get any when everyone else went, I was busy with something, and didn’t really want to head over to the mess with so many people over there, plus I was busy.” 

You look over at Price after your lengthy explanation, not realizing just how lengthy it was, and watch the corners of his lips quirk up into an amused-yet-worried smile. 

“You said you were busy twice,” he points out, before pausing, and pointing out again, “and it looks like you’ve taken a few bites out o’that at most.” 

You don’t bother to look at the mashed potatoes again; you know very well how they look, and know how undeniably full the plate looks. 

“Didn’t feel that hungry,” you make up a poorly thought-out excuse, that even you can understand is unbelievable. 

Price blinks at you, slowly, before sighing. 

“Are you alright?” Price asks, looking more concerned than amused now. You should’ve known from the moment that he walked in that you wouldn’t be able to hide anything from him. If not for the fact that he always seems to know what’s going on, then because of the overwhelming presence of your disquietude. 

You look at him and try to figure out what to say. What is there to say? You were panicking just two minutes ago, with your prescription bottle in one hand, the other too shaky to hold up the damn thing. You can still taste that vanilla. You can still taste the plastic. The bottle itself never once touched your tongue, but every time your tongue rests in your mouth, the tip of it pokes at the same exact place the bottle made contact with. You expect it to taste of vanilla, like its contents, but it doesn’t; it tastes like the pharmacy you got it at. It tastes like the sterile white of the counter, the fingers of the person who handed it to you, the money you spent on it, and the time it took you to get it. 

It’s nothing pleasant. The strange vanilla of the pills aren’t either, but they’re preferable to the bottle itself. 

Price notices you zoning out for a moment, and waves a hand in front of your face. Your eyes unconsciously track his hand for a moment before you blink back into reality and look at him. You knew you were fucked earlier, but when you look at his expression, at the look in his eyes as he watches you snap back to reality, you know that he knows. Maybe he doesn’t know exactly what happened, or how it happened, but he knows something. Fuck, he knows. 

Or, maybe he does know. Maybe he heard your cursing through the door, even with your low voice, maybe he heard the pills spill onto the desk, maybe he heard the opening and closing of the drawer, maybe he―

He’s staring at you.

―has security cameras set up in here, because he does in every room, every hall, everywhere but the bathrooms and the sleeping quarters―

He’s talking. It’s muffled by the sound of your own heavy breathing.

―or maybe it’s just intuition, a gut feeling he has, where he just knows that something’s wrong, that same gut feeling that everyone seems to get when something isn’t the way it’s supposed to be―

Your palms are sweaty. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. You’re starting to feel a little lightheaded.

―the same “gut feeling” that you experience every day but have to ignore because it’s not a gut feeling it’s anxiety and your real gut feelings feel the almost the exact same way anxiety does so you may never know if you ever get an actual one―

Price grabs onto your arm, though the feeling of his skin on yours can’t push past the skin-crawling sensation that coats your skin.

―but how do you really know that your gut feelings aren’t gut feelings? How do you know that anything is anything? That it’s really Price that’s sitting next to you, that it’s your own office you’re sitting in, that―

“[name]!” Price’s voice snaps you out of the trance you seem to be in, and you sharply inhale at the sound of his voice, his volume much louder than you expected it to be. 

You didn’t realize how fast and heavy your breathing had really gotten until this point. You look at Price, a little more on the panicked side now, with restless eyes that can’t stop flitting all over his face. He takes his hand off of your arm before you can even notice it was there in the first place, and leans back away from you. 

You try to take deep breaths, but each breath feels like trying to breathe underwater, and each inhale-exhale leaves you shuddering. You look down at your lap, breath hitching and stuttering, and the moment you open your mouth in the hopes of breathing easier, you are all too aware of just how dry it’s become. You’re sure you let out some kind of sound that alerts Price of your growing distress, because he hesitantly leans forward and takes a deep breath. 

“[name],” Price keeps his voice soft and quiet, quieter than he’d been just a few seconds ago, his soothing voice a gentle wave crashing against the rock of your mind, “you’re okay. Look at me, soldier.” 

Like a remote to TV static, the noisiness of your mind is partially calmed and the waves that wash over your brain provide sweet escape from the overwhelming adrenaline and cortisol thrumming in your veins.

Mindlessly, you do as he asks, his words grounding you and tugging you back down to Earth more effectively than any anchor could. When you look at him, his eyes are clouded with concern and there’s a small frown on his face that almost perfectly juxtaposes his usual quokka-smile.

You know you’re still trembling. You can feel the hairs that stick up on your legs and arms, the weird hot-cold feeling that creates pinpricks of discomfort across your body, the way your heart is trying to escape the prison cell of your ribcage—but none of it compares to the unbelievable dizziness you feel. Your head is a balloon filled with helium and it is slowly deflating, but not fast enough. You feel like you’re no longer in control of your own body—or were you ever in control? 

Your stomach is churning. There’s a sense of dread that dwells there. You might throw up. 

Cutting through your thoughts is Price once again.

“You listenin’?” your Captain asks, to which you nod after a delay of a few seconds. Price holds a hand out and gives you a questioning look, the question of ‘can I touch you?’ clear enough on his face that you nod lightly and he takes your hand gingerly.

“Do y’know where you are?” Price asks. You nod, and he softly requests, “can you tell me where?”

“My office,” you answer simply, the gravel in your voice making you wince. The warbling that escapes your mouth is nowhere near your usual voice, and for a moment you think you might be right about needing to vomit, but you manage to push it down and pray. Price ignores this and pushes on.

“And who am I?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“... The Captain.” Price purses his lips—he doesn’t really want to accept this as an answer, because he wants you to say his actual name, but he knows what you mean, and you know what he’s doing. He knows that you mean that you’re here, that you’re present, and you know that he’s trying to ground you the best he can.

“Do you know my name?” he questions, to which you nod again, though a little more moderately, seeing as the repetition of nodding your head only makes you more lightheaded, “what’s my name?”

You take a few shaky breaths, ones that are shallow and uneven, ones that hitch enough for it to be so noticeable that Price manages to pick up on it. You open your mouth to talk, but find that your tongue is too heavy to lift to create coherent sounds. The thought somehow heightens your anxiety, something that seems to be noticeable to Price, judging by how his expression shifts to something impossibly softer.

“Here, let me—” Without another word, Price cautiously brings your hand up to the middle of his chest, where his sternum is. 

He exaggerates his breathing, taking long, deep breaths in, and similarly long exhales. His chest rises and falls satisfyingly, and it’s clear that he wants you to copy him. You try your best at first, taking that same too-deep breath that he does and fail almost immediately as you choke on the air you attempt to inhale. Price brushes his thumb over the back of your hand and takes another exaggerated breath, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. You keep your gaze more focused on the lower half of his face as you copy him, oxygen going in through your nose, and carbon dioxide going out through your mouth. 

That one successful breath is followed by an unsuccessful one, then another successful one, then another, and it’s a little rocky but you find that soon enough you’re breathing. There’s air flowing in and out of your body smoothly, with each exaggerated breath you take, almost in sync with Price, until finally he puts your hand back into your lap but continues to hold it. He squeezes it once before letting go, and clasps his hands together. 

“What’s my name, soldier?” he asks, and this time you think you can answer him. 

“John Price,” his name feels weird coming out of your mouth, especially with no honorifics, but he accepts the answer anyway. 

“Good,” Price praises, giving you a small smile, “you’re doing good.”

The approval he gives you helps to calm your nerves the tiniest bit, and you feel yourself slowly coming down from the God awful high that you’d just been on. Again, you’re not sure how he knows, but he senses that you’re calming down―is it because your breathing is steadier? You aren’t nearly as restless? You’re no longer zoning out?―so he leans back in his chair and watches as you do the same. 

“Now,” he breathes out, “can you tell me what’s going on with you?” 

You look away from him for the briefest moment, sparing a glance at the cabinet you know the bottle of your pills lays in, before looking back at him. If he noticed you pulling your gaze away from him for a split second, he doesn’t mention it nor does he make it known that he did. 

“There’s not really anything going on,” you shrug, to which Price scoffs. 

“[c/n],” he looks at you, disbelieving, “two seconds ago I had to help you breathe normally. I know that there’s something that’s going on, somethin’ that had to trigger what just happened.” 

You stay quiet and he gives you an expectant look. The pressure from his fixed glare makes you feel like you’re about to explode. 

Finally, you answer him defeatedly, though vaguely, “I was in the middle of taking my medicine when you knocked.”

Price stays silent, expecting you to elaborate. 

“And…” you try to find a way to make it sound less awkward than it does in your mind, though you suppose there’s never really a correct way to go about something like this, “I almost took more medicine than I needed to.” 

The silence continues, but now Price looks less expectant, and instead more of a mix between concern and something else you can’t identify. That something, though, is still soft, and still has a hint of pity―maybe sympathy?―to it.

“Almost?” he repeats, “was that on purpose?” 

When you think about it, it’s complicated. You didn’t necessarily intend to overdose, you just dismissed the idea of it. Or, at least, you don’t remember trying to overtly kill yourself. Then again, you knew the risks of taking more pills than prescribed to you; had you taken that third pill, you would’ve only been one more away from an overdose, and even then you’d still probably get some kind of health issue. 

Price’s face hardens when you don’t answer immediately. He must be taking your silence as a “yes”. 

“Not… really,” you answer slowly, “I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

He nods, waiting a few seconds before asking, “Have you thought about it before?”

By it, for some reason, you sense that he isn’t asking exclusively about taking one too many tablets.

It’s tempting to be dishonest about it; it’s a shameful thing to you, to use the things that are supposed to help you to harm yourself, to be so careless with your own life. You know that it isn’t necessarily all your fault, but there’s still that small part of you that can’t help but feel guilty for using something so many other people try so hard to get to almost kill yourself with. 

After a few beats of silence, you decide to answer, “Yeah.” 

Price nods again, and he looks like he expected that answer. “D’you want to tell me more about that?”

You could, hypothetically, go in-depth about all of your weird thoughts about committing. The ones you’d been having just, what, fifteen minutes ago? Thirty minutes ago? The ones about chains wrapped around your throat, stolen guns from the armory, deep purple bruising and a stretched neck. Those thoughts, the ones that try to make ending your life sound pretty, that try to make it sound appealing. It’s not to convince yourself, you don’t think, but rather to help you come to terms with the fact that you were already convinced that you were going to commit at some point. The thought still scares you, because you’re a pussy―terrible, terrible choice of words, a voice at the back of your mind insists, you’re not a pussy, you’re just like anyone else―but you felt like you just knew that you were gonna die by your own hands. That you’d already made the choice, and now you have to understand it, to realize it. 

You are in that room full of TVs, with The Architect in front of you, telling you that you have no choice. That, in fact, the problem is choice. You are surrounded by a million other yous, all protesting, all denying that you have no choice but to kill yourself, all yelling “Bullshit!” because deniability is the most predictable of all human responses. 

But, you remind yourself, The Architect was wrong. He told Neo that he couldn’t do anything to save Trinity from her “fate”, but Neo did save her. He plunged his hand into her chest and forced her heart to beat. 

That’s true. 

And, you add on, The Architect is a computer program, tasked with mimicking human emotions, despite never having felt them. He could never understand the power of human will, of the desperation so many humans have to live. 

Because The Architect was never alive. He is a sentient computer program, whose job is to create a world in which humans can “live” while they are fed on in the real world, but his problem was his inability to create anything less than perfect. We aren’t expected to be perfect, and are taught that flawlessness doesn’t exist, which is why he came to the conclusion that he needed a “lesser mind” to help him create a better Matrix. 

You aren’t supposed to succumb to the idea of having no choice. Because that, in itself, is a choice. Everything you do is a choice. Even if everything you do will only add up to the same ending, to the same fate, why should you waste time not making the choices you want to make? When you assume that you have no choice, you assume that everything you do will go to waste, but that’s not true. You aren’t the only person that exists. You aren’t the only person who makes choices. The choices you make affect other people’s choices, and those choices affect another person, and another, and another. You still have to live through the choices you make, as does everyone else, so even if everything will end the same, why should you make inherently bad decisions when you could be making good ones? Why should you go through things you don’t have to go through, just because you believe that nothing matters in the end?

“Not really,” you answer Price, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, “I don’t… want to think about it too much right now.” 

Price looks a little more worried now but he doesn’t protest your decision.

“Is there anything in here that you could use to hurt yourself?” he asks after a moment, “Or that you’ve already used?” 

You bite your tongue. Technically, the pills count, you suppose, but those are your meds. You can’t really have those confiscated.

“Other than the medicine, no,” you answer truthfully, much to Price’s relief, as is evident on his face as his hardened expression softens. 

“Good, good,” he shifts in his seat. 

He’s gearing up for something. You can tell with the way he subtly presses his clasped hands together, the way his face goes through a mix of emotions, and the way the deafening silence of the room really seems to be getting to him. 

Suddenly, he asks you, “D’you think you’re going to… ?” 

He doesn’t ask you explicitly, but you have a good idea of what he’s asking.

“I was thinking about it,” you respond softly, “before you came in.”

Price nods, having expected that answer. You’re not sure if it was obvious, or if he just assumed you were thinking about it because of you confessing to having thoughts of it before this. 

“Y’know I have to tell someone about this, right?” Price reminds you gently, as if you didn’t already know, “Someone up the chain. Might be Laswell.” 

You hum affirmatively, because you didn’t expect anything less from him, and know that it’s for the better. It doesn’t make you feel any better, obviously, but you know how to be realistic when the time calls for it, and you know that if the roles were reversed you’d do the same thing. Not because it’s mandatory, but because when you imagine Price in your situation, the thought wraps itself around your heart and twists. 

The room is silent for a beat, and you get the feeling that Price is somehow more uncomfortable with the quiet than you are. He shifts in his seat while you stay still, and he clears his throat to break the silence for a brief moment before speaking up again. 

“It’s late,” he points out the obvious, before pausing and irresolutely asking, “do you want to head back to my quarters with me for the night?” 

His words confuse you for a moment. You open your mouth to ask why, before it suddenly hits you―oh, right, you just basically confessed to being suicidal. He doesn’t want to leave you alone right now. 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, less questioning than Price expected you to be judging by his momentary look of surprise, before he nods and begins to get up. 

He pushes his chair behind him, standing up straight, and holds a hand out for you to grab. You grab it gingerly and use it to haul yourself up, your knees cracking as you do after having been sat for so long. You wince at the sound and Price gives a light-hearted chuckle.

“I thought I was s’posed to be the old one?” he teases, making you give him an unimpressed look and let go of his hand. The room falls back into soundlessness.

You both remain silent as Price leads you out the door of your office, turning off the lights and closing the door after you, and continues to lead you down to his sleeping quarters. His are farther down the hall from yours, because of his higher rank, and therefore takes longer to walk to from your office. The long walk is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, but you both don’t mind this, as the atmosphere here is more comfortable than the one in your office. 

Eventually, you make it to his room, where he opens the door for you and signals for you to walk in first with his hand. You enter the room and hear him enter shortly after you, and go to sit on his bed before pausing. 

“I’m still in my…” you gesture to your clothes, gear-less but still not your “normal” sleeping clothes. Price raises an eyebrow at you as you wave at the state of yourself. 

“I’ve seen you sleep in worse,” he points out, “and I think you sleep in this than in your actual sleeping clothes.” 

You’re about to ask how he even knows about that, before he answers you before you can voice your question, “I’ve seen you walking back t’your quarters in these clothes and hear you snoring a second later at least ten times.”

You close your mouth and sigh through your nose, before muttering, “Didn’t know I was talkin’ to fuckin’ Sherlock Holmes.” 

Price snorts at your retort, “If I’m Sherlock, are you Watson?”

You think about it for a moment, before shaking your head negatively. 

“No?” Price toes off his boots and walks over to you, sitting on the bed, “Then who are you?” 

You sit down next to him, “I dunno. I’m like…” 

“Like Neo,” you continue, ignoring the way Price’s eyebrows immediately raise, “and you’re Morpheus. But less smart.”

“You’re not Neo,” he scoffs, “and I’m not a less-smart Morpheus.” 

“I wasn’t askin’ you,” you grumble, shaking your already-loose boots off of your feet and crawling up Price’s bed. You manage to snake under the covers and feel Price’s eyes on you as you do, staring holes into your face.

He hums in acknowledgment, not bothering to answer you verbally, and instead gets up to lift up the covers and get into bed. The bed is small enough as-is, but with two people inside of it, it obviously gets much smaller. Price doesn’t seem to mind, though, and turns so that his back is facing the door and his front is facing you. Directly in front of you is the base of his neck, but if you tilt your head up, you can see him looking down at you with tired eyes. 

You let out a soft breath through your nose and realize just how tired you are. Price seems to notice this, because his arm comes up and rests across your side, his hand splaying across the middle of your back. He gives you a comforting sweep of his hand, before settling it on your upper back, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against your clothed back. 

You close your eyes, and he closes his, and it feels like you’ve woken up in the real world and removed the cables from your body.

[perseephoneee]

I have a request if you are interested? :)

A teen!dad jess. He has a best friend from New York (she can have a name or it can be Y/N, you can choose) (they are endgame, jess never had feelings for Rory but she has feelings for Jess, it won't go anywhere) Jess and his best friend have a kid, they co-parent (whether they are dating already or in the future is up to you) Jess gets sent to Stars Hallow, she ends up moving to stars Hallow to, to be close to Jess and so their kid can be with him too (she is emancipated, plus Jess knows she's coming because they keep in contact) if anyone reading this would like to turn this into an actual story, I'm totally down for reading it :) if you choose this request, I look forward to reading it. Thank you!!

alright i kind of changed the story idea around a little bit butttt i tried my best *cries*

don't be a stranger (jess mariano x afab!reader)

cw: angsty, unexpected pregnancy, but otherwise fluff??

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

When you got pregnant, it was…unexpected—not planned whatsoever. You were only sixteen, not ready to raise a kid, of all things. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to give it up. And when your daughter was born, it made all the pain worth it. She was ethereal.

She was three years old now, full of personality, a lover of all things squishy. She preferred to hide behind you in the grocery store than talk to people, but she smiled at every book she saw and pet every dog you passed. Even with all of that, she didn’t have her Dad.

It wasn’t surprising that Jess got freaked out and ran when she was firstborn. You guys were just friends who hooked up, and suddenly you were pregnant. With the way his life went, it didn’t surprise you. But it hurt; it made you so angry you wanted to scream. You endured, though; you had to.

That’s why it was unexpected when an unknown number called you in the middle of the day.

“Hello?” You answered, shoving the phone between your shoulder and head as you finished cutting some carrot sticks for a snack. There was breathing at the other end of the line, and for a second, you worried something nefarious was at play. “I will call the cops—“

“Don’t,” the voice said, the familiar baritone New York accent you had spent years learning. The intonations, the snark—you knew it like the back of your hand.

“Jess?” You guessed, setting down the kitchen knife and holding the phone tightly.

“I, uh….fuck,” you heard him swear on the other line. You didn’t say anything; just let him work out whatever he wanted as you tried your best to control your breath. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Really,” you deadpanned. “Three years, and that’s all you got?”

“I don’t know what to say to you,” Jess sighed. “I thought I did, but, fuck, hearing your voice…” He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t have to. You knew all too well. You were experiencing that same feeling right now. “I’m sorry.”

“I…appreciate that,” you coughed.

“I want to see you and…”

“Her, Maria,” you responded. It occurred to you that Jess never learned your kid's name. He wasn’t around long enough for that.

“Maria,” he said, feeling the name around his tongue. I want to try.”

You laughed at that, some of that bubbling anger surfacing in a way you hadn’t felt.

“Why now?” You inquired, your fingers tapping on your cutting board.

“I’m ready now,” Jess said, and you could hear that familiar snark you used to love so much.

“I wasn’t ready; I just had to deal with it,” you seethed, and it took a deep breath to help you not start yelling. “I didn’t get that choice.”

“I know, god, I’m…sorry.”

You don’t remember the last time Jess ever really apologized for anything.

“You can’t choose to show back up because it’s convenient.”

“Y/N…” his sigh was evident on the other line. “Please, let me be better.”

You were silent for a few moments, contemplating everything—whether it was worth it, whether you wanted to try. You rubbed your eyes as if it would clear your head.

“Lunch,” you sighed. “You get a lunch with us. And only if Maria wants to. It’s her choice whether she wants you in her life or not. Alright?”

“Alright,” the relief was evident in his voice, and you tampered down any softness that might undermine your frustration.

“Alright.”

Lunch happened at Lou’s, a deli you frequented with your daughter. It was public, safe, but neutral territory that helped you see Jess again after so many years. You almost didn’t recognize him when he came in, even though he looked exactly the same. He just seemed…older. You guess you were, too.

Maria was quiet during lunch, picking at her sandwich and sending shy glances towards her father. You didn’t realize that they had the same eyes, the same suspicious furrow of their brow that showed how intelligent they were. You convinced yourself she had none of him at all.

One lunch became two, then three. Then it was routine to get lunch. At some point, it became dinners. Eventually, you let Jess take Maria out, just the two of them. She’d come home with a smile and some book he bought her. He introduced her to the Ramones (you thought she was a little young, but it wasn’t terrible, so you let it pass). She sometimes would mumble the words “Judy is a Punk” to herself while she read.

Jess became such a staple of your life that you allowed yourself to open up to him again. He was writing, getting his GED, and working on opening a publishing press with some friends. He was excited to hear you were still in college and hadn’t given up. He said the saddest thing that could’ve become of you was never realizing your potential. You had to hide your flush when he said it.

One night, when Maria was asleep, and the two of you were picking up toys in the living room, he asked you to move in with him.

“Can you even support that many people?” You scoffed, piling her books on one of the side counters.

“Yes.”

“Why?” you inquired, standing with your hands on your hips. Why was the question that haunted you throughout this entire experience. Why did he call? Why does he care? Why did he leave? Your life was dominated by the second-to-last letter of the alphabet—why?

“You guys are my family,” Jess breathed, fingers twiddling from nerves. You raised a brow, wanting more of an answer. “I had a revelation, after spending time with my Uncle…that I was terrible. I want to be better.”

You took a breath before answering. “Where do you live?”

“Stars Hollow.”

“Where’s that?”

“Connecticut.”

Your eyes bulged from your head, and if you had a drink, you would’ve spit it out.

“Jess!” You exclaimed. “That’s three hours away!”

“I’m aware since I’m the one who travels it,” Jess said, his hands in his pockets, indicating obvious discomfort. You were wrapping your brain around the fact that Jess traveled three hours every week just to get lunch with you—with your daughter—and he had never brought it up. Something shifted in your mind about that. “Look…”

“Jess–”

“I want to try again.”

“Another baby?” you exclaimed, and Jess put a hand up to his face and groaned. 

“No, Jesus Christ,” he swore. He cut you off before you could say anything else. “I was a complete idiot for leaving you, for leaving Maria. I don’t deserve half the kindness you’ve given me, but, fuck, I want to try this…family thing. I want to try with you.” Jess shoved his hands in his pockets, reminding you so much of his teenage self that it was almost painful. “I want to try with us.”

It took you a second to decipher what he was saying, and you felt your eyes widen. You were never actually in a relationship with Jess, just two friends who had drank too much one night. But you always cared. You loved everything in his nature up until he left. With him back, you remembered why you felt so much in the first place. 

“Okay,” you stammer, watching Jess’ eyes widen with disbelief. “Let’s try. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“We hate each other?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you chuckle, and that coaxes a similar laugh out of Jess. You both end up dissolving into laughter, something raw and so unlike the layer of the past that has haunted you guys for the past months. It felt like a dam opening up, everything crashing down but resolving into something tangible. 

A few weeks later, you move to Stars Hollow, your meager items in matching luggage. The college agreed to let you finish your degree online, and you find work at the Dragonfly Inn. The town is much more colorful and friendly than the New York you are used to. Still, you find yourself loving it—just as you find yourself loving Jess, how he responds to your daughter, and the apparent way he’s grown up. 

Yes, it was unexpected. But not unwanted.

[pedroshotwifey]

Idk if you still do those nsfw requests... but if you do, can I request Nr 39 and either Din? Because I feel like din would be so taken aback by everything, as he just seems like a virgin at heart (sorry not sorry🥲)

Hi baby!! Don't you know sub/virgin Din is my specialty? 😏 I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Innocent!Din Djarin x GN!reader

Warnings: premature ejaculation, grinding, innocence kink, embarrassment, stuff I'm probably forgetting

Word count: 927

Cramped

*****

“Din, I really don’t think there’s enough room in that thing for all three of us,” you admit. 

“No, look,” he walks over to the small ship and points at the bubble on top. It appears to be a repurposed droid pit. “Grogu will sit up here.” 

You bite your tongue and nod, not wanting to let him down but knowing you need to explain that it’s just not going to happen. The N1 is a big downgrade from the Crest, but you can’t blame him for trying to make it work. 

“That’s really smart, but look at the cockpit.”

You watch as his helm turns to the small, single seater cockpit. 

“What do you mean?” 

You resist the urge to just stare at him. What does he mean ‘what do you mean’? 

“Din, do you really want to travel for days at a time cramped in that thing with me? I’d practically have to be in your lap.” You ignore the way your cheeks heat as a crude image pops into your head. You’ve been painfully aware of Din’s innocence for as long as you’ve been flying with him, but this is next-level. Does he really not get why this may be a problem? 

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “We can stop more often if we need to.” 

You sigh at him, about to bring up the fact that you’ll be wasting a ton of fuel if you stop every day you’re traveling. 

“Here, I’ll show you.” 

“Din, I–” 

“Just try it, please?” 

He’s already lifting the seal and getting in, settling himself in the pilot’s chair. He shifts his hips and spreads his thighs as he gets comfortable and makes room for you. It makes your mouth go dry. He’s a few years older than you, but absolutely fucking clueless. 

He says your name when you don’t move from the spot you’re standing in. “C’mon,” he motions his hand for you to come take a seat. You chew on your lip for a second but decide to indulge him. You’ll just have to be careful. 

You grab his hand and let him help hoist you up, bringing you to stand between his legs and then lower down. You make sure to shift down a bit so that your ass is on the edge of the seat instead of against his crotch. Of course, though, Din’s hands come to your hips to drag you toward him, getting the two of you flush to each other. 

You can feel heat in the tips of your ears now as you’re pulled over him slightly. You know he’s just trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but his efforts have the opposite effect when you can feel his soft cock pressing against you. Your body stiffens and you bite your lip, sending a prayer up the maker that it stays that way. 

The bulge is fucking impressive, you’re not going to lie. You’ve caught glances of it before—intentional or not—but this is insane. 

You try to subtly move yourself off of him the tiniest bit, more to relieve the pressure to his appendage than anything else. He lets you do so, but not much with his hands still on your hips with nowhere else to go. Then he moves them to your thighs, one resting on each. Okay, maybe they did have somewhere else to go. 

Another image shoves it’s way into your head, this one of his hands further between your legs, no barrier between the two of you as he uses one of them to—

You shake yourself out of it, squirming as you silently scold yourself. 

“See? It’s fi—” 

He chokes on his words as your ass brushes against him, the brief friction something he’s not used to. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize frantically, trying to get up off of him so you don’t make him uncomfortable. You can already feel him stiffening. He moans softly and his hips shift a little as well, causing even more rubbing on parts that do not need to be rubbing. His hands tense on your thighs, holding you to him so you can’t move. You yelp, unsure of how to get out of this predicament without stirring him further. 

“What the fuck? Do that again. I liked it.” 

Your jaw drops. 

“W-what?” 

“Do that again. What was that?” 

“I–” 

He bucks his hips again, stimulating his now fully hardened cock. 

“Mph, that.” 

“I-Din, I don’t think you unders–” 

But he does it again, and you can feel arousal stirring within you despite yourself. He ruts up, a moan crackling through his modulator. His hands grasp harshly as he starts to grind against you. 

“D-Din–” 

Suddenly, he groans behind you, his body tensing and trembling as your face floods with embarrassment. You can feel his cock twitching and pulsing, a wet spot forming in his flight suit. It goes on for longer than you’ve ever seen before. You throb with want between your legs as you listen to him come down from his orgasm.

The two of you sit in silence, Din panting slightly as you try to process what just happened. 

“Cyar’ika?” 

You swallow. “Yes, Din?” 

“W-what was that?” 

“You just came,” you explain, trying to keep your hoarse voice loud enough for him to hear. 

“Oh,” he says, though you can tell he has no idea what the fuck you just said.

“Can I do it again?” 

You let out a shaky breath and turn your head slightly his way, knowing you’re not getting out of this explanation.

*****

Here’s the link to the prompt list if anyone else would like to request 🫶

[wellofdean]

Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

[wisteriaphobia]

Alright time to come out, not out of the closet, but I am Nat (Or Lilnatx) . I wanted to come here and share my story or fairy tales if you don't like me. I was a part of “clique 1”

Not to use my age like a pokemon card but I am 15, and I don't care what you have to say to me personally but I'm sick and tired of my name being dragged through the mud and being used as a scapegoat. But I have lots of pent up anger that I didn't have the privilege of saying.

April 3rd was the day I was banned from nevermore, with no proof. Like at all, I'm still bamboozled and scratching my head like a monkey on what was actually on me and my friends. We were accused of “shit talking” and I have yet to see the shit that we have allegedly talked about.

And honestly? Even if I did shit talk people, why… in a conversation about a predator … does that matter? I'm exhausted with how Red always fights with teenagers (like me) and other friends of mine. It's so despicable that the minions might just leave Gru for her instead. I was in gym class when I got banned and honestly? I would rather get banned 10 more times than do another plank for 2 minutes while seeing my P.E teacher's bald head.

My crimes that I did publicly (in the screenshot that red posted) is me being.. not fucking involved? Right before I got banned I was staying away from people that I previously did not enjoy and in fact I tried my best to not interact with them directly. At one point I had many members blocked on my discord because I was tired of being the villain.

Yet here I am in the year of our lord July of 2024 and people are still referring to my friends as “nats clique” like I said earlier im 15, quince. I have little power over my friends' actions , especially if they're an adult. I can barely get Laci to join me on Minecraft let alone make her collaborate on some high tech scheme, what is this shit? Oceans 11?

I find it petty that red refers to my friends as a “clique” we're a friend group, and the definition of a clique requires a group that's hard to get into. The server (until now) was open, you could pull up to Jinx's profile like a McDonald's drive through and get an invite. Our friend group was constantly expanding and if you personally felt like you were scared to talk to us, I'm sorry that you never experienced the poop closet jokes.

Red being paranoid about what a bunch of teenagers were maybe saying behind her back to deflect about crimson is quite irresponsible I do say so myself. So please Red! With a cherry on top! Show me what I did to you. What sin have I committed on your ego that should banish me to hell. Because I sure as hell don't know what I've done, (and you can quote this) you probably don't know what I've done either, because you made it all up.

Unfortunately I have no screenshots to give, because my phone storage is ass. But you can hit up any of the members of my clique for proof regarding my innocence. I promise I'm not an evil bitch who wants to ban you (not evil not evil no I'm the least evil person I know)

I'm sorry if this response upsets you, but if a 15 year old girl who ships who chicks bothers you so much. Imagine how I feel, imagine now so many people who once looked up to you feel. Everyone in your post looked up to you once as a role model, and have had panic attacks and stress because (allegedly) you harmed them with your cruel words. You can think it's your fault or not that's not my problem.. but for someone who wants evidence and proof 24/7 you sure like to not give out proof of anyone else.

P.S if you were anyone who gave red evidence of my wrong doings, can I see them? Cause I don't know what I have done.

P.P.S I'm not a man, and I write fanfiction of lesbian vampires.

P.P.P.S this is so not sigma that I gotta make this response

[callmegaith]

The only thing ineffable bureaucracy showed me is how hyper focused this fanbase is at seeing one thing and one thing only and everything else is a result of that one thing

1) no, Beelzebub and Gabriel are not a straight couple. Nor is Crowley and Aziraphale a gay couple. Stop the non-binary erasure or go outside and talk to an actual non-binary person cuz clearly you have no clue what non-binary is "they're straight presenting" wtf? If you think that please give me your name so I can block you. Cis people, I fucking swear.

Reminder that Beelz used they/them pronouns btw. Sorry that Beelzebub doesn't "pass" for you, it doesn't make them any less non-binary. Not to mention it was stated and already IS CANON that none of them have genders. They're god damn demons and angels, bruh.

2) "it's Gabriel's and Beelz's fault that ineffable husbands didn't get their happy ending": no. It's their own damn fault for not communicating and Aziraphale's inability to accept Crowley as he is. Gabriel and Beelzebub put each other first. Y'all sound salty as hell cuz two people managed to work their relationship out and yours didn't work out. "But if they didn't get together---" y'all really saying shit like this??? Do you hear yourself? That's so sad. Wishing for the doom of one LGBTQ+ ship cuz the other fucked themselves over. THEY CAN BOTH CO-EXIST. And you know what? They will. Cuz Ineffable husbands is clearly canon, the story just wants time with them cuz they're the main characters, not like Beelz and Gabriel who were side characters so had their story summarized.

3) "that should have been ineffable husbands" no, cuz Crowley and Aziraphale aren't Gabriel and Beelzebub. They're different characters with different backgrounds, personalities, relationship structure, and different relationship dynamic in general. They'll get together in a way that fits THEM. And that way requires ups and downs that makes them finally understand that they're perfect for each other without the need for either of them to change.

4) Gabriel was such an asshole wish Crowley got his revenge and--- bla bla BLA : Crowley was happy for them. You hold a grudge over Gabriel that Crowley himself doesn't. Y'all worse than a literal demon. Smh.

Be happy for what we got and look forward to the future where ineffable husbands will certainly become canon and it'll be worth the wait. Don't tear down the LGBTQ+ presentation we got just cuz the main ship didn't get the limelight THIS TIME.

Let things cook, that's how writing WORKS.

But I'm just an Agender demi person and tbh? I would prefer if things took their time.

I love both ships a lot but I'm not gonna hold pitchforks over one ship getting a happy end and one still developing. Come next season, that happy end for Gaberiel and Beelzebub might not last. We DONT KNOW. Do we really need to sacrifice one for the other? Why can't we be happy to have both?

Just really think the vibe of the fanbase rn fuckin SUCKS and I'm not enjoying trying to go through the ineffable bureaucracy tag and seeing people complaining about how it should have been ineffable husbands or how it's their fault.

Okay? Alright.

After this imma start blocking ppl I swear. Just had to throw in my two cents.