#the secondhand embarrassment I get from seeing these comments

[yennas-stuff]

Looking at E/riels' pushy comments under the newest special editions of acotar announcement on ig:

[linka-from-captain-planet]

.

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

[shy-writer-999]

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Warnings: MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: Part One is tame angst and pure plot (no smut), ~5,400 words. Part Two will have all the smut, so stick around for that. I have a fascination with the idea of Zoro pining over you in secret and getting flustered and embarrassed about it. In this fic, Zoro’s ego gets bruised and you comfort him. You both get drunk and Zoro runs his mouth too much. It’s a slow burn like my last fic and will also end with smut (◡‿◡✿) Plz note that the reader is sort of giving OC, she (you) gives a brief description of ‘losing’ her virginity to some guy from ‘back home’.

TW: Alcohol abuse – Zoro blacks out; also if you have emetophobia maybe skip this one? There's a brief nod to the usual hangover symptoms.

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Word on the ship was that Zoro was still a virgin. It had slipped out somehow, maybe in a game of spin the bottle or never-have-I-ever. But you learned about it secondhand when Sanji made fun of him for it, right in Zoro's face. Sanji said something crude, along the lines of "Zoro's just mad because his virgin ass has never gotten his dick wet."

Zoro was immediately livid. His face turned red and he snapped back with "Shut up Sanji, you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Fuck you." Genuinely upset, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. When Sanji and Zoro bickered it usually had an element of playfulness, casualness, genuine annoyance, yes, but... you weren't sure that Sanji had said anything this cruel and embarrassing before, outing something that Zoro was, obviously, uncomfortable with and most likely embarrassed by.

You were surprised, both by Zoro’s reaction and the simple fact itself. You had always assumed that Zoro got action wherever he went, I mean, look at him. To think that he had never felt the touch of a woman… you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it. And you felt like a creep because you were intrigued by it. Truthfully, your intrigue was not arousal but rather an earnest desire to learn more about this man who you had been developing feelings for, for months.

The only person who knew about your feelings was Nami. As soon as Sanji made the remark and Zoro stormed out, you immediately looked at Nami, and she glanced at you at the same time. It was like you exchanged a thought or read each other’s minds, one of those unspoken moments with your best friend across the room. It was a “what the fuck?” moment, a split second, but you knew that Nami would want you to go after Zoro and try to comfort him somehow.

You loved Sanji like a brother, but sometimes he could be a real asshole. “Nice one, Sanji,” you said sardonically, dead-pan and annoyed. “I think that was over the line this time.” You stared him down coldly. He immediately jumped to self-defense, but you waved your hand and told him to “can it,” as you exited onto the deck to see if Zoro was doing okay. You had no idea what you would say to him to make him feel better and you were sure that anything you said would come off as corny and patronizing, but you were damned well going to try. After all, it seemed like no one on the ship could talk about these things with Zoro except for you. There was something about you that made him open up, show a softer side, share things that he would otherwise have kept to himself.

Zoro was nowhere to be seen on deck, so that left only one option. You climbed up to the crow’s nest where he was sitting, scowling, and looking out over the open ocean. He was clearly mulling over Sanji’s comment in his head, turning it over and examining it from different angles, sitting in the embarrassment and trying to figure out why he felt so much shame. He never had put much energy into women, had no urge to ‘lose’ his virginity, as if that was an actual object that one could lose (he scoffed at the thought).

For a long time, Zoro felt like he wasn’t missing out on anything—as far as women were concerned, he couldn’t be asked. But in the past few months he had been feeling differently, no thanks to you. That’s why when he saw you climb into the crow’s nest after suffering that embarrassment from Sanji, he muttered fuck to himself and scowled even harder.

“Spare me the embarrassment,” he grumbled, turning his face away from you. He was starting to blush, but you didn’t notice it.

“That got you pretty worked up, huh?” You sat down on the floor near to him, cocking your head so you could peer more into his face, inspecting his impression, which he obviously did not feel like sharing.

Your observation was met with a terse silence.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. He turned to meet your eyes as your tone shifted and you were caught off guard by how vulnerable and tortured his expression was. “It’s not a big deal. No one on the crew cares or thinks any less of you. Sanji was just trying to get under your skin, he didn’t mean to be cruel or malicious. You know he loves you like a brother.”

Zoro sighed and rested his head in his hands. “I know. I don’t know why I let that jackass piss me off so much… I guess he struck a nerve. I- I’ve been feeling… I don’t fucking know. I guess I’ve been feeling kind of... self-conscious about it, recently…” He trailed off. You were shocked by his candor. You were used to him being honest and more vulnerable with you, but this was more than you had been expecting. He was truly opening up to you. You had never seen him show an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity before.

“Yeah?” You prompted, feeling like he had more that he wanted to say. He turned to you again.

“I never really gave a shit about this kind of stuff before, y’know? I’ve got other stuff to keep me busy. But… recently… I don’t know.” He sighed.

You nodded in response. Zoro was a man of few words when it came to emotional vulnerability, and you could tell that the conversation was coming to a close.

“Well, Zoro, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I was kind of a late bloomer so… I get it.” You looked at him carefully. “Let’s grab a drink later, ‘kay?” He nodded, and that was it.

You didn’t know that you were the main reason Zoro had been reflecting on being a ‘virgin’ (he hated that word). Talking to you about it made him feel some sort of way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something inside of him twisted a little bit when you had looked into his eyes so seriously and with so much care. He tried to shrug it off and went back to cursing Sanji in his head, avoiding the actual dilemma he was facing, choosing escapism and mentally berating Sanji instead.

---

That night, you and Zoro cracked open a few bottles of sake, as promised. You had done this countless times in the past and nothing weird or unexpected happened except a few lingering glances that you both played off. But tonight it seemed like Zoro was drinking more than usual. You got the impression that he was drinking away his sorrows or drinking to forget about how genuinely upset he had been earlier in the day.

You were matching his drinks, as you sometimes did, just for fun. It felt like a kind of silly competition between you two sometimes. But keeping up tonight was hard, you were already getting a stomachache and could feel the dehydration creeping in… you knew the hangover was going to be a monster.

When he got drunk drunk, Zoro could become callous, rude, sarcastic, kind of an ass. He never really sent that in your direction, it was frequently towards Sanji, sometimes Usopp, Luffy, even Nami, if he really was going crazy. It was your least favorite characteristic about him; it was concerning, and it was a huge turn-off. But usually it wasn’t too bad, only mildly annoying. At worst, it gave you a sort of mini-ick.

Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights, had it not taken an unexpected left turn. You and Zoro were the only crew members drinking, and everyone else was doing their own thing. It was dusk, warm outside, and the stars overhead were already breathtaking. You found yourselves back in the crow’s nest. This was honestly Zoro’s safe space—the isolation gave him peace of mind.

Zoro was laying on his side, with his head propped up on one arm, leisurely facing you. You had been bickering and talking over silly things for a couple hours at this point, like tidbits of sword-making history, or how much meat you’ve seen Luffy eat at once. After a lull in conversation, Zoro finally broached what had been on his mind all day, a nagging thought at the back of his head that he knew that he shouldn’t ask, but he grew bolder as he got drunker. And he was getting drunker.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began. “When did you lose your virginity?”

That was really out of the blue. You were shocked by the question, not expecting it at all. You two had never talked about anything like this. Oftentimes it was Sanji crossing the line and you telling him to fuck off. But for Zoro to go there…? Weird. He was presumably just wondering about it since you said you were a late bloomer too, and you guessed he must be seeking validation. After all, he was obviously embarrassed about the whole thing. A little reassurance and sincerity couldn’t hurt.

“Well, uh…” You hesitated. “I actually had sex for the first time a couple years ago.” That was enough of an answer, right? No point in oversharing.

“What was that like?” He got bolder, locking eyes with you. He was certainly drunk, and you were too. But beyond that, you felt the vibe shift and his eyes seemed more intense. Your voice got caught in your throat for a second. He probably was just seeking some reassurance, right? Everyone always talked about how they had a horrible first time, I’m sure he’s looking for more confirmation or something like that because he’s insecure… you said to yourself.

“Oh, uh… It wasn’t the best first time but also not the worst. It wasn’t as bad as everyone kind of makes their first time seem, if you know what I mean? It was with some guy from my hometown, we grew up together. Kind of like a childhood crush, boy-next-door type of vibe.”

Zoro felt a pang of jealousy. The alcohol pushed him deeper into a grave of embarrassment, rash behavior, and unspoken boundary breaking that he was about to start digging.

“Lucky guy.” He murmured, barely audible, as he shifted onto his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now staring straight up. You could see him exhale, jaw clenching.

Wait, what did he just say? ‘Lucky guy’?

You had no idea how to respond to that. He seemed to be implying that the man you slept with was lucky. And why would that be?

An unsure “What?” escaped your lips. It was purely a reflex, you weren’t expecting a real answer, you figured he was going to laugh it off, you heard him wrong, something like that. This was like really out of character for him, at least in your experience. You had honestly wondered if he was asexual sometimes because he just never said stuff like this and had never talked about it to anyone on crew. To hear him ask about this sort of thing after all this time was surprising. Maybe there was a side to him that you never knew.

Without hesitation, Zoro responded immediately, doubling down. “I said, lucky guy.” He turned and looked at you and blush quickly flooded your face. He wasn’t smiling, and his gaze was bold and almost piercing, so… it wasn’t a joke. Unless it was? If he was fucking with you then that would be weird as hell.

“Oh, uh… I guess he was lucky! Hahaha…” You tried to play it off with an awkward smile and half-hearted chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice that your face was bright red.

But Zoro kept going. “Were you surprised that I’m still a virgin?” You now realized he was faintly slurring his words. “I’m just curious.”

What was up with all these questions? You sighed. Well, whatever he wants to find out I guess he’ll find out. Looks like we’re playing 20 questions.

“Yeah, Zoro,” you responded. “To be honest, I was surprised.”

“Why?”  He asked forcefully, but this time he sat up from where he was laying and pulled himself a couple of feet in your direction. This would make him maybe a foot away from you, looking at you straight on. Your heart beat quickened.

Ok now this is getting weird. What is his angle? He must be feeling bad about the whole thing and now he’s fishing for compliments. With this conclusion, you rolled your eyes at him and exhaled. You could be playful with him now that you realized he just had a bruised ego, it wasn’t more serious than that. He was being a little pathetic, but that was all.

“Zoro, I’m surprised because you’re manly, strong, and attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You kind of laughed.

And while you thought Zoro was fishing for compliments, you were wrong. He was finally asking you questions that had been burning in his mind for days. He sincerely wanted to know what you really thought of him, simple as that. And he was curious about your sexual life. He certainly was very drunk but even so, he still cringed as he asked each question. But fuck, he just had to know. He wanted to know so bad that he felt like he was suffocating. He had to have answers, but he was getting dizzy, his body felt heavy, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you.

He scooted closer again, so that your knees were touching. At this point your heart was beating out of your chest. His face was less than a foot away from yours. He may not have known, but you did have a painfully intense crush on him, and his closeness was having quite the effect on you. It was the same for him, too.

“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it?” He slurred out again, stronger this time, leaning even closer. Your faces were maybe six inches away now. You were likewise feeling intoxicated, and it made time feel like it was slowing down, slogging along. Your intoxication was making you not only extremely thirsty (in both ways) but it was making you hyper aware and locked in to the blisteringly intense eye contact Zoro was holding with you, almost not blinking.

“I-I really mean it.” You squeaked out, almost as a whisper. Holy fuck, was he about to kiss you?

“Good.” He mumbled, and then he placed one of his huge hands on the cusp of your knee and thigh. He squeezed. You inhaled sharply. His eyes were still glued to yours. There’s no way he didn’t see your blush, it was vivid. He started to lean in, maybe for a kiss, perhaps he was advancing with no goal other than to be closer to you.

Right when you felt like you were about to explode from the blood rushing to your face and your heart beating out of your chest, Zoro’s eyes closed and he abruptly collapsed forward into your lap, letting out what sounded like a groan and then… was that…. Snoring? It looked like the alcohol suddenly hit him like a truck all at once.

Sure enough, you leaned over him and saw that he was passed out on your lap, mossy hair ruffled, and his mouth open ever so slightly. He is prone to sleeping randomly, you shrugged, and God, he looks so good. He even smelled good.

You sat there until you calmed yourself down, feeling his heavy weight in your lap, the warmth of his skin pressing onto yours. He hadn’t let go of your thigh yet. You shook his shoulder lightly. It was time for the night to be over—he needed to get off you so that you could get him water, a pillow, and a blanket. He’d have to fall asleep up in the crow’s nest because there was no way you could pick him up or drag him downstairs.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. “Zoro, you need to wake up a bit. You need to move so I can get you a pillow and blanket. It’s bedtime. Hey.” You shook him again and couldn’t help but notice the hard ripples of his muscles under his shirt. You paused for a moment and patted his head. “Zoro. Wake up.”

“Wha-what?” He groaned, raising his head ever so slightly.

“Zoro, I need to get up really quick. Lay down on your side for me, ok?

He groaned again, making your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that noise was hot. Sheesh.

Evidently a colossal effort, Zoro squeezed your thigh tightly one last time then raised himself just barely enough to collapse onto his side on the floor next to you. You peered at him for a second, thinking he was passed out again, making sure he was ok. As you rose to your feet and started to climb downstairs, he stirred.

“Baaaby,” he grunted out needily. “Are you coming back, baabbbyy? Don’t just leave me up here, Y/N.” You froze and looked at him. He was in the same position, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. And yes, you had heard him right. Because he had said it damn loud. Holy shit, that made you feel some sort of way. But Zoro was so drunk at this point there’s no way he could have any control over his words. The lights were on but no one was home. He mumbled your name one more time.

“Zoro, I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing you a blanket and a pillow,” you quipped back, and he murmured something nonsensical while you started the quick descent to the deck.

It took you less than a minute to get him a blanket, a pillow, a glass of water, and a bucket, in case he threw up. You grabbed yourself a pillow and blanket, too. You couldn’t conscience letting him sleep up there by himself when he was so drunk. It took you a couple trips, but you managed to bring everything up to the crow’s nest. Zoro looked like he was proper passed out, so you spread the blanket over him and knelt by his head. Again, you shook his shoulder softly. “Zoro, lift your head up. I brought you a pillow.” He complied. He looked so sweet and soft. You wished you could kiss his cheeks a hundred times and run your fingers through his hair so badly.

You dragged your own blanket and pillow to the other side of the nook, giving him as much space as you could. Moments after you curled up and shut your eyes, Zoro stirred again, letting off another string of vaguely suggestive entreaties. “Y/N,” he murmured, “why’re you… all the way over there… you don’t wanna… w-wwanna sleep with me???”

This poor dude isn’t going to remember a thing tomorrow, you thought. In this moment you pitied him. You were sure he just wanted you to come cuddle with him, which was really sweet and all, but he was way too drunk right now to be touched with a ten-foot pole. And you already knew that if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d be too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“Zoro, go to bed, sweetie, it’s getting late.” He did some more grumbling and nonsensical whining in response but soon he was out like a light, and you followed suit quickly.

---

Sure enough, Zoro woke up at sunrise feeling like absolute shit. He was hungover. Monstrously hungover. He couldn’t remember most of the tail end of last night and that made him uneasy, embarrassed at the thought that he could have said something out of pocket to you. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of drunkenly confessing his feelings. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck, he realized that you were sleeping peacefully across from him. You must have brought out the pillows and blankets, the bucket and glass of water (which he promptly chugged). His heart twisted a bit when he realized how thoughtful and caring you had been towards him. Fuck.

You were breathing quietly, sleeping on your side facing him. Your hair was messed up, all flopped to one side, your face was soft and sweet. He just watched you sleep for a few minutes, realizing that he was being creepy as fuck but thinking he would not have the opportunity to sit and stare at you like this for a long time. He was taken with you. Anything that you felt even remotely insecure about, Zoro loved about you. On top of that, he thought you were ethereally beautiful; he would muse over how soft your skin must be, how good your hair must smell, how he hoped he’d be able to see the color of your eyes closer, how beautifully your lips turned up into a smile whenever you would see him. He wasn’t merely infatuated with your beauty—it was more than that. He admired you as a person, he thought you were brilliant, smart, and kind.

Fuck. He berated himself. You fucking idiot, what did you say to her?

He remembered asking you when you lost your virginity—or, er… did he ask you how you lost it? It was hazy. He certainly remembered throwing back the glasses of sake like they were water.

He blushed crimson immediately upon remembering that he made some comment like “lucky guy” or “lucky dude” while referring to the first man you had sex with. Fuck, that was embarrassing. And he had a feeling that he took it one step further than that, maybe he said or did something else… he wasn’t sure at that point. He hoped he hadn’t done anything that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

Zoro rarely ever drank this much—he must have been feeling extra bothered and upset by Sanji’s comment about his virginity. Zoro knew that drinking was a horrible, horrible way of coping with his feelings. But sometimes he felt like he just wanted to self-sabotage or self-indulge in feeling like shit. And alcohol certainly made him feel like shit. But he had never drank this much when you were around.

Zoro wasn’t so sure how Drunk Zoro would handle your presence. He had a sinking feeling that he probably made himself look like an ass. Maybe he got way too loud, maybe he overstepped with his questions, maybe he came off as some huge, perverted creep trying to get a better picture about what it would be like to fuck you. He felt many, many pangs of regret and repulsion at himself. He was being hard on himself.

And while it definitely would have embarrassed him, and he would have felt more ashamed than he already did by knowing everything he said, he would have been surprised to know that the version of Drunk Zoro with only you around wanted nothing more than to be close with you—evidenced by the scooting closer, touching your thigh, staring deeply into your eyes, entreaties to sleep with (or was that by?) him. But he had no way of knowing what he did yet, because you were asleep, and he was prideful.

All this angsty reflection and regret was quickly interrupted by the hangover. He needed to do something about that. It was becoming a problem fast. He refused to make any sort of use out of that bucket while you were around. So, he swiped up the bucket, his empty glass, his pillow and blanket, and shuffled down the ladder steps.

---

When he was feeling less disgusting and had chugged a few more glasses of water, Zoro wondered what to do with himself. He would normally be up in the crow’s nest around this time of morning. And it didn’t escape him that you were going to be extremely hungover as well, especially because you had been matching his drinks for the most part (he could remember that) and you had way less of a tolerance than him.

He decided that he ought to bring up some water to you and hang out up there until you woke up. Maybe he’d be able to gauge how massively he fucked up by your expression or demeanor. Only one way to find out. Also, he’d take any opportunity and use any excuse to spend some peace and quiet with you. It was a treat that he rarely got.

He filled a big glass of water for you, and something struck him—what if he brought you up some fruit for breakfast? Would that be weird? He knew that you usually had fruit for breakfast, so… why not? He couldn’t think about it too much or else he’d clam up and get too shy. Fuck it, he told himself. Fruit it is. What’s an added benefit was that no one else was awake to tease him about bringing you breakfast or spending the night with you. So he took a couple of extra minutes to wash up and chop some fruit for you. He plated it as neatly as he could and grabbed a napkin as well. It was a simple but wholesome, caring gesture.

By the time Zoro was making his way back up to the crow’s nest, you had been awake for a minute or two. You were stretching as he climbed into the nook and your eyes met his with a sweet smile. “Good morning,” you chirped, feeling like shit from the hangover, but also tickled that you got to spend just a little bit more time with Zoro. You thought there was absolutely no way he remembered any of the advances or suggestive remarks from last night, and you wouldn’t hold any of it against him or treat him any differently for it. You were just happy to be hanging out with him, and the morning was beautiful. You felt no pressure or even desire to let him know everything that he said last night in the pits of drunken belligerence, and you didn’t plan on sharing unless he prompted.

“Hey,” he greeted you and placed the plate of fruit and glass of water next to you. “Here’s some breakfast. Figured it may get me even with you, since you took care of me last night. Sorry if I was an ass.”

Zoro was doing something as sweet as bringing you breakfast? You knew he had it in him. You always thought that there was some softness and sweetness to him, under those tough layers. Gosh, this was really nice of him.

“Thanks for bringing me fruit!” You responded. “You didn’t make an ass out of yourself, you were actually being really sweet,” you smiled again, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like it twisted a little bit. Fuck, he had such a crush on you. He felt cringey and awkward when you were around sometimes, hyperaware of his every move, wondering how you felt about him. It was so easy for him to blush when you were around, too. He hoped every time that you couldn’t see it. He knew now that he must have been turning various shades of pink and red because he felt the hot blood rise to his face… and this time you did notice. His cheeks took on a pinkish flush, a shade that fitted him so well. God, he’s so cute, you thought to yourself. He was blushing so hard because you called him sweet.

“Oh, uh.. Sweet? What do you mean?” He acknowledged what you said out loud, putting out a sort of rhetorical question. How had he been sweet? Were you referring to the intrusive questions about your virginity, or did he do something else? What on earth could that mean?

You felt like teasing him a little bit with your answer—nothing too serious, since he seemed a little worried about it. “Yeah, you were sweet… you did call me baby a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad.”

Zoro turned crimson. He started to stutter out an apology— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Zoro,” you cut him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were super drunk.” He attempted to stutter out another apology and you waved your hand. “Don’t worry, seriously, it wasn’t creepy or anything, it was cute.”

Neither of you thought Zoro could blush any harder, but he did. Cute? He was getting so flustered. He took a beat before hoarsely choking out a response. He expected that he had been a bit weird but… calling you baby? Get a grip, man! He scolded himself. But if that was all… it could have been a lot worse.

“Aghhh… Did I do anything else humiliating?” He asked, shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand, visibly cringing. He didn’t even think to ask what context he called you baby in. It didn’t matter. He had called you baby, and that was that.

“I wouldn’t say it was humiliating but when you were falling asleep you kind of like… asked me to get in bed with you? It wasn’t creepy though, I think you were chilly.”

Zoro’s jaw dropped. Oh my fucking god. Get in bed with her?! What the fuck? He reprimanded himself internally. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. “Look, I’m so, so sorry I… I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, I-”

“Zoro, don’t worry about it, seriously. It was endearing and I didn’t take it any sort of negative way.” You took note of how absolutely vivid red his cheeks were. His fists were clenched. Poor guy was obviously going through it.

Zoro was turning the words over in his mind again and again—sweet, cute, endearing. He had never received any of this sort of praise from you before and it made his stomach flip.

Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the air. “Y/N, MY DEAREST SWEET~~ WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE MY DARLING?” Sanji shouted up to you in the crow’s nest.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at Zoro, sort of mocking Sanji. “Let’s do this again soon, Zoro… silliness aside… I had a really nice time. You really were being sweet so don’t worry about it. I’m going to get some coffee and take a shower. Thanks for the fruit!” You gathered your fruit and glass and shouted back down at Sanji. “Coming!” You did one last pretty smile and wave and then descended below.

Zoro was still reeling from the revelations of his drunken antics. He could have jumped overboard right about now, had it not been for your repeated description of him as “sweet” and “cute.” Your words rang in his ears—“Let’s do this again soon, Zoro.”

So he had called you baby and tried to get you to sleep with him, but it had been sweet and cute? It didn’t really make sense to Zoro but something inside of him fluttered a little bit. You weren’t totally averse and disgusted towards him after last night, so… that was good, right?

Zoro was absolutely mind-fucked at the whole interaction. He was kicking himself in embarrassment, flustered, bright red, his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was also ecstatic because you said you wanted to spend more time with him again. He was completely ashamed but buzzing at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years and years, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worked up about a crush before.

Upon second thought, he realized that he did have a shadow of a memory of him calling you baby, along with a suggestion in his mind of the moment when he groaned your name and begged you to come to bed with him. He had wanted you to curl up next to him and sleep there, to be close with him, to feel your warmth, your skin, your heartbeat. He couldn’t believe that all of this started because Sanji’s asshole remark yesterday about his virginity. And there was that virginity and you, two things that were currently posing a problem for him. He could only let himself fantasize slightly about fucking you, but… he didn’t let himself get too carried away (yet).

Stay tuned for part two: Zoro is yet again sexually frustrated, and you decide to help him solve his problem (smut, smut, smut)!

Update: Here's part two!

And here's my masterlist...

♡＾▽＾♡ (◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! - Z

[bylerlipglances]

VICTIM BLAMING. Will Byers edition: Let's throw him under the bus. shall we.

current awful state of social media(x,reddit to be specific) holding an uncanny resemblance to the town of Hawkins which ostracizes the freaks, full of nagging homophobes, ganging up on Noah Schnapp & Will Byers, projecting their personal hatred on two people with full force, making them scapegoat for literally everything going wrong in this world & their lives.

The unsolicited claim on Eleven by homophobic shippers has truly ruined this character, who btw went through similar childhood trauma as Will.

sorry but you can't expect yourself to be taken seriously if you act as 'walking mlvn edits' with no substantial logic to back your stupid argument.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Mike is their baby, the rich suburban boy, has a girlfriend, an ideal family which supports Reagan-Bush campaigns. He is selling them dream of a lifetime.

His friend Will on the other hand, is a wretched boy, comes from a poor and broken family, raised by a single mom, infected by the gay disease.

a forbidden love story? that ain't gonna happen....

My child was not gay, is not gay and will never be gay. He will marry a nice girl, you wait and see......

credit twitter caterin @loafwheelz

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ofcourse there is going to be uproar after s5 airs....

ST appeases its queer audience. yada yada

see for yourself, the teaser is not even out yet but deluge of homophobic reactions have already started pouring in. just wait, s5 will be labelled as too woke for public consumption.

it will be difficult to swallow an unconventional ending 👨‍❤️‍👨 👬🏻 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 of their 'favourite show' which btw they watch with their *kids*. ya this is the one show they landed on. as long as the show remains straight people friendly, its unpolluted.

may i add, its a family ritual to pause 'stranger things' at 53 minutes, 5 seconds. you know who pauses at that timestamp? People who like________thats right. Thoughtful parenting. Real fans who watch this show 'with their kids'.

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Gay romance is , obsession of Teenage girls. so everyone gets a free pass to disregard it & all are excused from any moral accountability.

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When nothing works, they’ll pull out the most convenient act,

"Hey Listen, I am gay too and in my opinion, Will is creepy for having a crush on Mike." and the praise comments afterward omg...Dude why are you so right, can i suck your dick pls😭 pls let me. i can't

Poor mike :( he must be suffering from all that attention he is getting, that's worse than dealing with the mindflayer on a daily basis.

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it doesn't stop here btw, prepare for the most dreadful secondhand embarrassment.

“Every cell of Mike’s body is in love with eleven” i am cringe twerking. “We need to value platonic relationships and discard idea of wanting to see characters get together romantically, sexually” proceeds to advocate for eleven losing virginity to mike, its a sign of their pure love afterall.

Bottom line is, Make it non-sexual & platonic when it comes to will and mike's relationship but make it sexually charged if it's about eleven and mike.

and everytime the question of Will & Mike's intimacy comes to the forefront, this one thing is instantly thrown as argument. every single damn time!

"There is a goddamn war coming to hawkins! and they wanna show all this? is vecna going to wait for them to kiss & go down on each other" . i despise recycling my own argument but cant help it, i am insufferable. "didn't THE WORLD WARS single handedly stopped all the sex in the world? damn right. The bliss of war ladies and germs.

sure enough, this show is build to honour the bigots...

so what to expect from s5? The Duffers will make sure the gays are persecuted real nicely this time. None of that old 'rejection trope' by a straight friend. Kill him? why go so easy on the miserable, wistful gay guy? No way in hell. They'll shake something straight out of the history book.

btw this is the last shot of final season.

----THE END----

[weebsinstash]

There's an unconfirmed theory that the love potion Velvette and Valentino sells is his spit, and literally just the spit in his mouth is a doping aphrodisiac

Like ok here's something I've considered. Say you're a new Sinner in Hell. You meet him night ONE down there. You've got nowhere to stay. You're watching people be stabbed and robbed outside, but here in the studio, you're sitting with this Mr Valentino who you just met. It's obvious that he's fucking trouble but he's a much more welcoming option to the unhinged chaos outside (especially if you're a woman, being without shelter is WOOOF dangerous)

It really depends on the person, but technically, isn't "sleep with me and I'll give you a place to sleep for the night" like actually an incredibly lucky almost one sided deal in this context?

So Reader agrees. It's- It's just sex right? It isn't... THAT bad? But little do you know, even just kissing him can turn your mind to mush. He's got his tongue in your mouth and, he suddenly starts asking all these really intimate, personal questions. You've already been drinking, and now with his red hot aphrodisiac delivered straight into your mouth, you're basically hopped up on ecstasy. One minute you're talking with Angel, not sure where you're going to go, the next, you're in Valentino's lap, willingly letting him shove his tongue down your throat, drinking after him, taking shotguns of smoke from his cigarette while he asks you how many times you've had sex, what your favorite positions are, just... he'd have you in the palm of his hand.

There's an Angel Dust fanart comic about Val luring AD into the room where he has aphrodisiac burning like an incense and Angel is being drugged just standing in the room and I can totally see Valentino doing shit like this. He's just chilling with some of his girls and they're all sitting around basically making out and being horny and drinking and doing drugs, and Valentino is still making you fetch him drinks. At some point you're standing there and he sees you wobble a bit and he realizes you're getting the secondhand smoke and suddenly he's intimately curious how you look and sound when you're embarrassed and starts teasing you and becomes addicted to it

Valentino is a sadist. You want me to believe he'd see Reader there hot in the face and starting to sweat and suddenly nervously giggling at all of his flirtatious comments and filthy questions and he WOULDN'T start groping you up just to hear you squeal for him to stop? Please. And then once you're all loopy and easily manipulated, then he'll start laying on the charms, the compliments, the promises. He could treat you so well, baby, and all you have to do is just have a nice little... cuddle session with him once or twice or dozens of times :3c and he always gets you so fucked up first that, really, his offers just sound like the most fun in the world...

[paperclip-skz]

First Play

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: kissing, secondhand embarrassment, "first time" in a sense, fingering, oral (fem receiving), not proofread; I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 1.8k

*****

You sit patiently in the waiting room. Your nails dig into your thighs as anxiety spikes through your spine. 

“ Ms. L/N, the doctor will see you now,” the pretty secretary sparkles at you. 

This is it—your first-ever scene. Your friend signed you up for this because she knows you’ve been wanting to do this forever. She’s listened to you rant about this for years! Finally, she put in a good word for you with the intimacy company she works with. 

You knew what she did for a living, and it never bothered you. Actually, you thought she was cooler because of it. She helped people achieve their utmost hidden desires safely, securely, and thoroughly. 

The blinding bright walls illuminate your way to the farthest door to the right. “Right through there, and the doctor will be with you shortly.” The lady opens the door for you. You walk in, but not before turning back and seeing the lady give you a wink before closing the door. You could hear the subtle click of her heels walking away from the door. 

Your throat closes in both fear and excitement. You take in your surroundings, noticing the “set” replicates a stereotypical doctor's room. It has a big foamy bed right in the middle, a counter with small gadgets and gloves organized right next to the sink, and a bright light right above the bed. The two things that stand out to you are the bright meddle poles with places for feet connected to the sides of the bed and the giant mirror plastered on the wall right in front of the bed. 

No one is in the room, so you assume the “doctor” is on his way. You told your friend you didn’t want to know who your instructor was; the last thing you wanted was someone you knew to see your most intimate sides of you. You slowly make your way to the bed, sitting down and crinkling the foam. You awkwardly fiddle with your hands as you wait patiently; you stare at yourself in the mirror, fiddling with your hair and how the top you chose to wear rests on your body. 

“Okay, so Ms. L/N, it says here. " Your head whips around to meet the eyes of your “doctor,” but you're surprised to find coffee-stained eyes parried with steel-rimmed glasses. His dimpled smile reaches his eyes, and his big hands grasp the clipboard. 

You feel a sudden drop in your heart as you see him. He's incredibly handsome, and his size is impressive. His broad shoulders and imposing frame make you feel tiny in comparison. Suddenly, you feel intimidated and nervous; the tingles of anxiety claw at your skin.

Chan’s eyes widen, seeing your discomfort. He’s quick to close the door behind him and turn his body to you. “Are you okay?” his voice is even sexier than he is. His intoxicatingly thick Australian accent captivates you as the dark strands of hair effortlessly fall against his handsome face.

You almost forget to answer him until he reaches out to touch your arm. “Yes…yes... yes, I’m okay. I'm just nervous,” you say weakly, still shaky with nerves. 

“There's nothing to be nervous about. You can stop this whenever you like, and you control how fast I go and every other aspect of this. All you need to do is trust me.” for whatever reason, you do. You do trust him; you trust him and his deep eyes that you could get lost in. 

You nod your head, not forgetting to answer him with a quiet “okay.” You read in the contract that verbal confirmation from both parties was a must. And with that, Chan snaps back into character. 

“Alright then, Ms. L/N. You're here because you had some complications with your canal?” Chan stretches the room around to reach a rolling stool. He grabs it to his at the end of the bed, right in front of you. 

“Y-yes. I tried masturbating, and I noticed the stretch stung,” you answer with as much confidence as you can. 

He nods his head in acknowledgment. “Well, my name is Doctor Chan, or you can call me Chris. Whichever you like works for me.” He flashes that wide smile at you one more time. “Shall we begin?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow. 

“Of course, doctor,” you whisper. You begin to lift your legs as Chan fixes the medal bars. 

“Oh, Ms. L/N., you’ll need to remove your pants.” Chan is trying to hold back his smirk, but you can still see his lips twitch. 

“Oh, right!” you giggle to yourself. You unbutton your jeans and start to shimmy your way out until two large hands stop you from lifting your hips. 

“May I help?” 

You swallow and slowly lay your back down. Chan makes a dramatic show of feeling out the fabric of your jeans, raking his hands up and down the sides of your thighs. Finally, he reaches the button and zipper of your jeans, irritatingly slow. His hands cascade the fabric down your legs, with the help of you lifting your hips, leaving you in just your innocent white panties. 

Chan bites his lower lip, seeing the little wet spot on your panties. His body rumbles with the idea that he created that little spot, that he’s the reason you're so wet right now. “I’m going to have to remove these as well.” You crane your head up, watching him stare at your covered sex. 

“Please do, doctor.” You rest your head back on the comforts of the bed. You can feel his fingers dance on the edge of the thin fabric. Eventually, Chan hooks his finger to pull your panties down your legs, leaving you bare for him. 

“You are stunning,” he says in a breath. It makes your skin heat and your core thump with need. 

“Doctor, I think we’ve gotten to a point where you can just call me Y/N.” 

“Very well. Y/N, will you kindly place your legs here?” Chan directs your attention to the perfectly placed feet rests on either side of your feet. You do as you are told, creating a perfect, open view for Chan. 

Chan sucks in a break at seeing your already-soaked cunt, perfectly on display for him. He can feel his cock twitch in his boxers. Every sheer nerve inside him wills not to lose control in front of you right now; he wills himself not to devour your leaking arousal or to take you here and now, raw and with no end in sight. 

“Chan?” 

Your soft voice shakes him out of his head, and back to the scene in front of him, with your lust-filled eyes and your dripping pussy staring at him. Chan clears his throat and easily slips on his “mask.” 

“I’ll start by warming you up and seeing if anything makes you uncomfortable. You will tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable.” He says this like a demand rather than a question, and the mix of authority and admiration in his tone fills your body with an unfamiliar feeling… a good feeling. 

You can feel his fingers explore the outskirts of your folds, teasing you before actually touching you. It makes you squirm slightly.  

"From your consultation, you've said that you notice your canal being too tight for masturbation, right?" he asked, sitting on the stool between your legs. You nodded, "Yes, I tried inserting two fingers like I normally do, but the stretch stung,"

“Alright… tell me if this is too much.” he rubs his fingers across your slik folds, coating his digits. Slowly he inserts his two fingers into your warm cunt. He can feel you clench at the stretch, which makes his jaw clench. 

“Does this hurt?” Chan looks up from between your legs only for his breath to get caught in his throat; your eyes are closed, and your lip is biting into your lip; your face is the definition of pleasure, and he’s not sure how long he can hold back.  

“No,” you respond with a whimper. 

“Okay then, I’ll begin to move.” with that, his finger starts to slide in and out of your walls. Your pussy is gushing with your arousal. As you breathe, your chest rises and falls in sync with Chan's fingers.

Your body squirms for more, and Chan is quick to pick up exactly what you want. He curls his finger every so slightly to reach that gummy spot inside you. Once he hears the low moan, you admit he continues to rub against that particular spot. 

Your moans blend with your whimpers and they become the only sound in the room. Chan’s fingers have picked up a slight rhythm, enough to make your arousal drip over his fingers and down the curve of your ass. Your body searches for more friction; your orgasm is so close you can feel it on the tips of your fingers. 

Chan can’t take it anymore, with how much you are gushing around his, how your moans sing around the room, and how much your body is craving to be touched. He shouldn’t; he knows he shouldn’t. You're here to get fucked into oblivion. You are not here for his pleasure…..but he needs to taste you. 

Your orgasm is hanging on the cliff, and your repeated “yes’s” are a sign of it until his fingers are gone. Your whine is cut off by an unfamiliar wet muscles pressing onto your clit. Your head snaps to look at the man eating you out like you are his last meal between your thighs. Your hand reaches out to tangle into his hair, and your hips lose all control, grinding against his tongue. 

Your moans are louder than you care to admit, but you couldn’t keep them quiet even if you wanted to, not with how Chan’s lips suck around your clit and how his tongue darts out to enter your wet walls. It's not long until you're screaming his name and coating his chin with your juices. 

Chan looks up at you, leaving gentle kisses along your thighs and gently on your folds. He can see your pussy clench at the overstimulation and his cock throbs in his pants. He has to hold himself back. He can’t overstimulate with his tongue….not yet, at least.

Looked fucked out already, your head leaned back on the chair, your bare chest heaving with every breath you take, your thighs slightly shaking. “Did that hurt at all?” 

You look down at Chan. His shining eyes sparkle with a newfound hunger. Slowly, you shake your head, unable to gather your scattered thoughts fully. Your met with a wide evil grin, “good,” he took a moment to step away from your thighs, only to tower over your small frame. “Then I guess we can continue”....

a/n: I have a long one ready to post next week; I just need to touch it up a little. The thing is, it's also Bang Chan. I'm debating whether to wait to post it since I'm posting this one or if I should just post it anyway. Please, please, please let me know in the comments if you all care if I post two Chan fics in a row or not. Love y'all.

[lilac-hecox]

Reddit Stories Guest Stats

So, for fun I kept track of the guests on Reddit Stories from when they began (counting current format and not the initial videos they did). The guests are in order of their chronological appearance except they are also in order of the number of the appearances on the show.

This is just for fun and for interesting purposes to see the break down of the guests on the episodes and what duos are featured most as of now.

I intend on keeping this updated as Reddit Stories comes out via editing and reblogging each week when a new episode comes out.

I'd love thoughts, comments, etc. on thoughts on this!

--

-- Updated Feb 1st, 2025 --

Smosh Reddit Statistics

Courtney & Angela: 4 – Relationships Gone Wrong | Relationship Flops | Reddit Soup For The Soul | 2024’s Worst Person

Chanse & Angela: 4 – Most Unpredictable Reddit Stories | Iconic r/AITA Stories | The Devil In Disguise | Congratulations Are In Order

Amanda & Arasha: 3 – Secondhand Cringe | I’m Sorry, WHAT? | Who Do They Think They Are?!

Courtney & Trevor: 3 – Am I The Ex? | You Won’t See This Coming | Are They Better Off?

Ian & Damien: 3- Most Disturbing Stories Yet | Play Stupid Games | The Messiest Relationships On Reddit

Ian & Courtney: 3 – Break Ups And Brush Offs | Nightmare Vacation Stories | Why Would They Do This?

Arasha & Trevor: 3- Are These Relationships Doomed? | Dating Dos And Don’t’s | Not So Happy Holidays

Olivia & Amanda: 2 – Revenge | What Were They Thinking?!

Ian & Arasha: 2 – Did They Go Too Far? | Stories That Make You Go “Oof”

Spencer & Tommy: 2- Office Nightmares | Shayne’s Favorite Reddit Stories

Ian & Anthony: 2 – Unexpected Reunions | It’s Brutal Out Here

Angela & Damien: 2 – Why Are They Like This? | And They Were Roommates

Amanda & Angela: 2 – Once A Cheater | Reddit’s Messiest Drama

Tommy & Amanda: 2 – Looking For Revenge | The Reddest Red Flags

Tommy & Courtney: 2 – Reddit’s Biggest Regrets | Friend Or Foe?

Courtney & Spencer: 2 – Worst Of The Worst | From The Weird Corners Of The Internet

Ian & Amanda: 2 – Am I Safe??? | Catching Flights And Starting Fights

Angela & Spencer: 2 – Is He Cheating? | Office Horror Stories

Tommy & Chanse: 2 – The 4/20 Episode | The Most Unhinged Dating Stories

Amanda & Damien: 2 – The Weirdest AITA Stories | Reddit Stories To Tell In The Dark

Tommy & Damien: 2 – It’s Just A Prank Bro | These Reddit Stories Will Blow Your Mind

Arasha & Courtney: 2 – Is Blood Thicker Than Water? | The Most Self-Centered People On Reddit

Trevor & Angela: 2 – Most Embarrassing Stories Yet | Why Would You Post This Online??

Chanse & Courtney: 2 – First Date Flops | What Goes Around Comes Around

Chanse & Kimmy: 1 – Unhinged Holiday Stories

Mac & Jackie: 1 – Unhinged / Say Less

Spencer & Ian: 1 – Is She The Villain?

Rachel & Ify: 1 – Family Drama

Mac & Tommy: 1 – Gay Drama

Damien & Noah: 1 – Are They The Devil?

Damien & Courtney: 1 – World’s Worst Roommates?

Jackie & Keith: 1 – Toxic Friendships

Spencer & Noah: 1 – High School Drama

Ian & Tommy: 1 – Parties Gone Wrong

Noah & Courtney: 1 – Siblings Stories

Noah & Amanda (Swell Entertainment): 1 – Getting Nerdy

Angela & Thomas Sanders: 1- Wholesome

Spencer & Zach Kornfeld: 1 – Try Not To Cringe

Chanse & Amanda: 1- Serving Drama

Amanda & CallMeKris: 1 – Scary Stories

Garrett & Olivia: 1 – Travel Horror Stories

Keith & Noah: 1 – The Dumbest Stories Of All Time

Chanse & Arasha: 1 – Not Getting Married Today

Tommy & Noah: 1 – They Did WHAT?

Courtney & Amanda: 1 – Am I The Grinch?

Arasha & Anthony: 1 – 2023’s Worst Person

Angela & Tommy: 1 – Feel Good For Once

Damien & Quinton Reviews: 1 – Offscreen Drama

Sabrina Brier & Angela: 1 – Mean Girls In Real Life

Courtney & Sarah Whittle: 1 – World’s Worst Co-Workers

Chanse & Mac: 1 – Party Nightmares

Tommy & Morgan (Two Hot Takes): 1

Arasha & Spencer: 1 – Spilling Reddit’s Secrets

Anthony & Courtney: 1 – The Best And Worst Friends

Arasha & Angela: 1 – Seeking Sweet Revenge

Cammie & Taryn: 1 – The Pride Episode

Arasha & Tommy: 1 – Back To School Stories

Angela & Mac: 1 – Updates Only

Spencer & Amanda: 1 – A Bad Case Of The Sillies

[shebreathedherlast]

Daughter of the Sea

Part III

Masterlist

Quest

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: You wake up in the infirmary with a horrifying surprise.

Work Count: 1.6k

TW: Brief memory loss, weapons, mean Luke, broken bones

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

When your eyes fluttered open, you were unable to see. Everything around you seemed to be screaming. You pushed your weight onto your elbows as you desperately gaged your surroundings. With your vision blurred you sought for any semblance of familiarity.

Your head was pounding and your arm ached terribly. What in the gods happened? You sifted through your memories, raising your hand to cradle your head when the pain became nearly unbearable.

Footsteps scuffled towards you and your heart rate accelerated. “She’s awake!” A voice called.

You turned your head to the origin of the voice, but with your blurred vision, everything only fused together.

You made out a tuft of blonde curls and you instantly knew you would be safe. The figure made its way to you, placing a delicate blanket across your shoulders. They carried what you assumed was a tray of food.

They called your name and your head tilted up to meet their words. “Will?”

“gods, how are you feeling? Is there anywhere else that hurts?” He asked

You shook your head in confusion, “Will, what are you talking about?”

The Apollo kid furrowed his brows. An expression you couldn’t quite place fell over his features. “You’ve been in the infirmary for an entire night.” He told you.

“What?” You question, as you burrow your fists in the linen sheets to ground you.

“Do you not remember what happened yesterday?”

Your vision cleared as the events from yesterday seemed to piece themselves together.

A single infuriated word flitted from your lips, “Castellan” you growled.

Will gave you a quizzical look, “Oh so you do remember.”

Anger radiated off you. Yesterday Luke Castellan had practically robbed you of your much-deserved glory. He had humiliated and belittled you and in order to spare some semblance of dignity you were forced to break your arm. Yes, you remembered everything.

“Where is that thieving son of Hermes?” You demanded.

Will shook his head in disapproval. He turned back to the tray and returned with a bowl of steaming hot chicken noodle soup. “Is that what happened? Another one of your qualms with Luke? Seriously?”

You shruggled in response, too preoccupied to give Will an answer. You were busy thinking up all the ways you could make Luke suffer.

“You two really need to get over your whole sworn enemies thing and act like grown-ups. It gives me secondhand embarrassment watching you two fight like entitled toddlers.”

You gawked at him, “Will, I’m only seventeen, I’m not a grown-up.”

And at your comment, both of you laughed. Will was one of those guys that everyone was able to get along with. He had this easy going persona complimented by his humor that had him making friends wherever he went.

“You’re legitimately the biggest idiot I know.” He said.

And who were you to deny the truth?

“I wouldn’t exactly disagree,” You replied, an amused smile painted against your lips.

Will didn’t further the conversation, opting instead to spoon-feed you the warm broth. He gave you another drink of ambrosia before deeming that you would live.

“Thank you, Will…I really appreciate all you’re doing for me.”

Will waved his hand, dismissing your gratitude. “You won’t be saying that when I send you the bill.”

You chuckled shaking your head as you made your way out of the infirmary bed, dressing behind a curtain. Will was walking away and you had just finished pulling on your shorts as loud footsteps rang down the hall.

“You still there?” Will’s voice came from behind the curtain barrier. You pulled the fabric to the side as you stepped into the hall. “Uh…yeah”

He audibly sighed. “Good, because apparently, you're going on a quest in three hours.”

“WHAT?” You gasped.

Will cringed at your response, “Yeah, sorry that you had to find out this way but Clarisse got word of a quest from Ares and she chose the two best half-blood warriors to go with her. I’m sure you can guess what I mean by that.”

A million thoughts came crashing down on you. First, you were going to set out on your very first quest. Second, Clarisse saw you as a powerful ally and that could be useful in the future and third, the only other person besides you and Clarisse who would be addressed as “one of the best half-blood warriors” was none other than…Luke Castellan.

You huffed in anger, your fists balling at your sides. It was just your luck, Castellan, the one who had got you into this whole infirmary situation was going to ruin your first-ever quest.

Tyche must have really hated you.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

Less than an hour and a half later you were packed and ready to go. Though you were forced to endure the torturous presence of Castellan, you were determined to not allow him to get to you. This time the stakes were too high and the mission too important.

Well, that was your resolution until you saw his face.

You practically saw red as you lunged forward ready to strangle the Hermes boy. Clarisse had to step in and physically restrain you from tearing Luke limb from limb.

“I’m gonna kill you, Castellan!” You shout, “You’re dead! Do you hear me? You're dead!”

Clarisse set you down fifteen feet from Luke (what she deemed a safe distance to talk some sense into you without you going on a blood-lust rampage for the Hermes boy).

“In the name of Olympus, what in the world is wrong with you?”

You scoffed, “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I think you should be asking that question to that thieving piece of-” It was at that moment that you heard Chiron clear his throat, and you shrank back, swallowing your insult.

Luke approached you with an amused grin, hands raised in the air. He was mocking you. Of course he was, you wouldn’t expect anything less from him.

“As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m gonna claw your eyes out, Castellan.” You seeth.

He tsked, tilting his head slightly, “And a good morning to you too, Chaos.”

Your jaw clenched as every fibre in your body told you to beat the boy before you into a pulp.

“Clarisse,” you whine, “please let me separate his stupid face from this hideous body.”

Clarisse shakes her head to tell you “no.”

You sigh, defeated.

Luke curls an arm around your shoulder, “Oh come on, Chaos, don’t you want another chance to win back your glory?”

You hated the boy before you. You hated him and you don’t think you’d mind it one bit if he so happened to fall off a cliff to his impending death. In fact, you think that you might even enjoy the show.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at the both of you, “Enough! You two need to stop this insufferable fighting and start focusing on the quest, because if you two don’t suck it up and start at least tolerating each other, I have absolutely no problem choosing two other skilled half-bloods to replace you.”

At this you and Luke instantly shut your mouths and glanced at each other.

Then it hit you, he wanted this as much as you did.

“Good.” Clarisse said, “Now I want both of you to hug it out and shake hands, promising that you’ll be on your best behaviour for my quest.”

You furrowed your brows, mouth agape. “Hug it out? Clarisse are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” She replied, pointedly.

Luke cocked his head, “You’ve got to be joking. It’s not like we’re five.”

The Ares kid raised her eyebrows in a taunting expression, “Are you sure about that?”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“K, let’s go now, stop tryna be the mediator Clarisse. Chaos and I are not “hugging it out” like pre-schoolers.” He spoke, a hint of annoyance coating his tone.

“Um sorry to break it to you buddy, but if you two wanna come on this quest with me then you better start doing as I say.”

Clarisse was defiantly being manipulative. She was the one who picked the two of you and now she was placing all these conditions on your shoulders.

After a minute of silence, Luke consented, rolling his eyes again. “Come here my sweet little, Chaos.” He said in an exaggerated voice like he was talking to a baby.

You glared at Clarisse, before trudging over to Luke, who wrapped his arms securely behind your neck, burying you into his chest. When you didn’t reciprocate he brought his lips to hover over your ear, “Chaos, you gotta at least pretend to like me, or else big scary Clarisse here is gonna send you back, and I know you don’t want that, do you?” His whispers sent shivers down your shoulders and eventually, (after a harsh glare from Clarisse) you conseeded and wrapped your arms around Luke’s waist.

His head practically nuzzled your hair and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh in contentment.

To emphasize how much you two would get along Luke slowly began rocking side to side while continuing to keep his hold on you.

Clarisse smiled in approval.

You stood on your tippy toes and even then you barely reached his ear, “Luke,” you whispered.

“Yes, Chaos?” He asked gently.

“I still hate you.” And with that, you pushed him back. He stumbled a little before quickly regaining his footing.

“I wouldn’t expect any less.” He mumbled under his breath.

As you ran to catch up with Clarisse, Luke stood still, because whatever happened he knew that this quest was going to challenge him beyond belief.

----

A/n This is more of a filler chapter so hang in there for the next update <3

Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant @moonykai @sflame15-blog @hoesindifferentshows @gloryekaterina @dakotali @notjustsomeblonde @silkenthusiasts @kanej-and-wesper-supremacy @ren-isdone @ashisabitgay @tsukiko26 @niktwazny303 @idgxitciycouv

[obaex]

sweet silence - rafe cameron

summary: rafe manages to say a lot to you without saying anything

word count: 3.3k

warnings: cursing, ward being ward

You, Sarah and Kie were sprawled out on the living room floor in Tanneyhill amidst a pile of pillows and blankets late into a Saturday night sleepover. You could hear the two of them breathing softly, asleep, as you stirred awake. Your ears perked up, but all you could hear was the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. That's when you heard a rustling and the sound of keys jangling against the back door. You got up slowly, careful not to wake them and went to investigate. You heard the back door open and close quietly and you held your breath as you tiptoed around the corner into the kitchen and ran straight into someone tall and muscular. You let out a yelp as he cursed quietly, "Fuck, what are you doing?" Your eyes adjusted in the darkness and you found yourself face to face with Sarah's older brother Rafe.

Your gaze swept over him quickly, taking in his mussed hair, skin shining with a layer of sweat courtesy of the sweltering humidity of the OBX summer. His eyes were glassy and his pupils were dilated, zeroed in on you. His mouth was downturned, angry, waiting for you to reply. That's when you noticed his split lip and the caked blood on his face. As his eyes tracked yours, he quickly wiped his lips with the back of his hand, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine" he said, answering the question that had been lingering on your lips.

"Rafe -" you started.

"I said I'm fucking fine" he shoved past you, his shoulder colliding with yours as he made his way upstairs.

I don't need you. I don't need anyone.

The next morning you sat around the Cameron's dining room table enjoying a breakfast spread fit for royalty alongside Ward, Rose, Sarah and Kie. Conversation was flowing amiably until Rafe ambled into the room, sliding into the only open seat which was next to you. An awkward silence descended and you could feel the energy in the room shift as Ward's focus fell on his son.

"Nice of you to join us, Rafe" Ward commented.

"Must have missed the memo" Rafe retorted, avoiding eye contact with the group as he stacked his plate full. In the light of the morning, you could see his split lip was badly swollen and a deep purple bruise was forming under his left eye. It didn't escape Ward either.

"What time did you get home last night?" Ward countered.

"Late" was all Rafe offered.

"I would ask what happened to your face, but I don't want to start my day with more of your bullshit Rafe. You'll be washing the Druthers, skimming the pool and anything else I damn well ask of you today, is that understood?"

Your insides twisted at Ward's sharp tone. You felt your cheeks flush from secondhand embarrassment and the shame of being in the middle of such a personal confrontation.

Rafe's response was a scathing glare at his father before returning to focus on his breakfast.

Without warning, Ward slammed his fist down on the table, causing all of you to jump involuntarily as he raised his voice, "Dammit, Rafe! You will look at me when I'm speaking to you and you will acknowledge me when I ask you a question! I said, do you understand me?"

Rafe met his father's gaze, straightening in his chair. "Loud and clear" he said, his voice betraying his confident posture as it wavered.

You never imagined the day you would see Rafe Cameron, King Kook, anything less than confident, snarky and brazen, but now he looked utterly afraid, small, almost childlike.

Ward continued unrelenting, "You are a constant disappointment to me and this family, you understand that, right? I want you to be a man, to take over the company, but you refuse to grow up, refuse to be an adult and take responsibility for your actions -" His berating continued as you closed your eyes, subtly trying to drown him out and will yourself out of this situation. Next to you, you could feel Rafe's leg jiggling up and down nervously under the table as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. As Ward's words continued to pound down, you reacted without thinking, your hand shooting under the table, onto Rafe's lap, grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing.

When you realized what you had done you began to pull your hand back, embarrassed, when Rafe started squeezing back, hard. He was clinging to your hand like a lifeline, squeezing as each of Ward's words continued to fall over him.

Don't pity me...But don't let go.

"Heelloooo, anybody home?!" You refocused your attention as JJ waved his hands in front of your face, bringing you back to reality, surrounded by your friends as the steady beat of music pulsed around you at the boneyard the following weekend. "I asked if you wanted another beer?" JJ repeated.

"It's fine, I'll get it" you replied, hopping up from your seat at the bonfire and walking over to the keg.

As you approached, you saw that there were already a few people around the keg, Topper, Kelce... and Rafe. They were pouring themselves drinks, talking animatedly about something when Rafe looked up and caught your eye. While the others ignored you, Rafe's eyes scanned you unabashedly, a lopsided grin on his face. You felt your skin prickle under his gaze. Without saying anything, he refocused his attention on pouring beer into the solo cup in his hand and when it was full, he held it out to you, meeting your gaze. Never breaking eye contact, his telltale grin lingering on his lips, his fingers ghosted over yours gently as you took the cup from him.

Hi his fingers said smoothly as they skimmed yours

Hi said yours in return

You returned to your friends, mind racing. Had you just had a moment with Rafe Cameron? Something inside of you sparked at the idea, the excitement, the intrigue. Rafe was nothing if not a loose cannon. A rogue firecracker: beautiful and exciting to look at, but inherently dangerous with the capacity to leave a scorched path in its wake.

You took several deep sips of your beer. You didn't want to think about Rafe Cameron. You didn't want to get your hopes up only to be deeply disappointed and heartbroken. He was King Kook, you were a Pogue Princess, that's where this story starts and ends. But at the same time, you wanted to slip further into your buzz and let yourself pretend, even if just for tonight, that there was something there you could hold on to.

Your buzz, sponsor of all great ideas, was what drove you to hop on the tall driftwood with Sarah and Kie, using it as a dance platform as the party raged around you. The three of you danced on it like you were on top of the bar at The Wreck. You hopped from driftwood to driftwood, the liquor in your cup and your flimsy flip flops making the dives precarious and wobbly as you closed your eyes, lifted your hands and let your hips sway side to side. All too soon, you heard the telltale siren of approaching police cars. Not looking to be busted, you frantically scrambled down, teetering slightly as your feet hit the soft sand before firm hands steadied you from behind, gently grasping your arms.

I've got you... I don't want you to get hurt.

You turned to see Rafe smiling down at you. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as Topper grabbed him and ran down the beach.

Midsummers arrived and Sarah was adamant that you go with her. She fussed with your hair and makeup all afternoon, and frankly the end result was astonishing. Your hair was swept into a soft updo and your sunkissed skin glittered against your dress, the perfect shape and color.

When you arrived, you could feel the heat of the glares and the whispers that followed you. You weren't sure if it was the fact that the Pogue Princess has graced Figure Eight with her presence or the way your dress hugged you in all the right places, but you let yourself think the latter and didn't spend too much time worrying about it. Before long Topper whisked Sarah away to dance and one of his Kook friends asked you as well. He was nice enough in an overbearingly preppy way, replete with a pink bowtie and seersucker suit; it took everything in you not to laugh out loud as you awkwardly shuffled back and forth like you were at a middle school dance. Halfway through the song, you felt a presence behind you as a hand gently grazed your lower back. "Chad, is it? Chaz? Chase? Why don't you go get yourself a drink buddy?" Rafe stated, really more of a command than a suggestion. Charlie quickly dropped your hands, nodding at Rafe before making himself scarce.

Wordlessly, Rafe took his place, swiftly closing the distance between the two of you as his right hand spread across your lower back and his left hand enveloped your hand in his.

His eyes twinkled as they looked at you, taking you in at this close distance. You were inches away from him. Close enough to feel his body heat, to smell him: fresh linen and sandalwood, and to see the freckles that dotted his nose.

You settled into an effortless rhythm as he guided you along to the music. Your silence was comfortable as you adjusted to the proximity of each other, your heart hammering so hard in your chest, you swore he could hear it. He grazed his cheek softly against yours, his hand spreading further across your back as he pulled you closer. Hoping to say with his body, what he couldn't find the words to say out loud.

I needed to know what it felt like to hold you in my arms, to feel your body against mine, to take in your perfume that reminds me of a warm day on the beach. I've been thinking about you. Incessantly. I don't want to hide it anymore. And I don't want to see you dancing with anyone else.

Your mind whirled and your breath hitched as he traced small circles on your back, pressing himself against you, his cheek resting against yours. A thousand questions traveled around your head. Is there something here? Do I make him nervous the way he makes me nervous? Why is he doing this? What am I to him?

Eventually, you squeezed your eyes shut, relaxing into his touch, willing yourself to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

"Mmkay, so are we going to talk about you and my brother last night or are we all going to pretend like that didn't happen?"

Your cheeks flushed a deep scarlet and you prayed the glare of the sun would hide your embarrassment from Sarah as you began to fill her and Kie in on everything that had transpired. There was no use in hiding it now, and you had meant to talk to them about it, but didn't think there was anything to talk about until now.

"So y'all haven't said more than five words to each other?" Kie asked. "I support you doing whatever you've got to do dude, even if I for sure don't understand it. Just please be careful."

"Funny, Rafe usually never shuts up" said Sarah, "especially when it comes to girls." She made a puking face. "But he hasn't said anything about you, or anyone else actually, for a while."

You focused back on your lunch as the topic of conversation changed. You were on the patio at The Wreck, nursing your hangovers with the rest of Figure Eight and tourons alike. "I'll be right back" you muttered as you popped up to go to the bathroom. You shimmied your way inside amongst the wall of bodies that packed the island's favorite bar and restaurant, the smell of sweat and stale beer heavy and the touron crowd rowdy in the throes of day drinking.

You had just made it past the bar when someone roped their fingers into the belt loop of your denim cutoffs, spinning you around to face them, "Hey sweet thing, come take a shot with us," twanged a touron, continuing to yank you towards his group of college buddies who were egging him on with shouts and jeers.

"Maybe next time!" you replied. He was cute, but you knew better than to mess with the touron crowd and the sheer thought of a shot increased the pounding headache of your hangover. As you turned to walk away, you felt him yank you again, harder this time, nearly knocking you off balance.

"'Fraid we can't take no for an answer! This is our last day in the OBX! You can't say no to us!" he implored. You squirmed, annoyed, trying to release his hold on your shorts as he pulled you closer before you heard someone start shouting over your shoulder.

"Hey, fuckface, she was trying to be nice, but let me spell it out for you. She doesn't want your $2 Fireball shot, and she doesn't want to be anywhere near you, so take your goddamn hands off of her before I slam your face into the bar."

At that, you felt a warm body behind you as Rafe's arm slid over your shoulders, wrapping around you and pulling you gently into him and away from the group. His words were steady, but you were surprised to feel his body quivering with anger. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, you placed your hands over his arm, hugging him to you.

I don't want to see another man's hands on you. You're safe.

Rafe led you away from the bar into a quiet corner of the restaurant, as he turned to face you, you both began speaking at the same time.

"Rafe -" you started

"Can I see you tonight?" he asked. His expression was serious. He was laser focused on you. You could see that he was clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly riled up from the confrontation at the bar. His question caught you totally off guard. Was this a date? Was he angry with you?

"Y-Yes!" you said.

"Be ready at seven" he said, brushing your shoulder gently as he walked out the front door.

I need to leave before I rip someone's head off. I don't want you to see what you do to me. There's a lot I need to say to you, but I'm not going to do it here.

With no indication of what Rafe had planned, you dressed, undressed and redressed several times before landing on an outfit that was cute but casual: your favorite denim cutoffs that hugged your curves just right and a white crop top. Just before 7:00 you heard tires crunching in the gravel of your driveway. You steeled yourself, touching up your hair and makeup before making your way out to his truck. He hopped out of the driver's seat at the first sign of you with a relaxed and goofy grin on his face. You couldn't remember a time you had seen him look so at ease, even happy?

He walked to your side of the car to open your door for you and offered you a hand to help you into your seat.

You settled into a comfortable silence as Rafe navigated the truck, his left hand resting on the steering wheel, his right drumming a repetitive beat on the center console in time with the song playing quietly on the radio. You tried to say something, anything but couldn't bring the words to the surface, questions bouncing around your head as your heart beat soundly in your chest. Your shared silence over the last month had gone on so long it felt like a third passenger in the truck that didn't want to be interrupted.

You refocused on the road, tracking the familiar path as Rafe drove to the beach, out to the tip of the island furthest away from the noise and crowds of the tourons who were dragging toys, tents, umbrellas and chairs back to their hotels for the evening. As the crowds faded, you were left with the quiet, calm breeze blowing through the palm trees and the gentle crash of the ocean waves that lapped the shore as the sun sank lower in the sky, putting a pink-peach filter on the day.

Rafe parked and quickly hopped out of the truck, jogging to your side of the car to open your car door and help you down. You placed your hand in his and as you settled by his side, he didn't let go, weaving your fingers more closely together as he led you onto the beach.

As you both kicked off your shoes and your toes sunk into the warm, soft sand, you gave his hand an involuntary squeeze as your heart fluttered. This was your favorite time of day in your favorite place in the world, how had he known that? He looked down at you, smiling his lopsided smile at the feeling of your hand in his as you began to walk along the ocean.

You continued in silence, the rush of the ocean and the occasional call of the seagulls and pelicans gliding overhead the only sound between you until Rafe stopped to face you, taking both of your hands in his.

He opened his mouth to say something. Stopped. Tried again. His brow furrowed and he broke eye contact with you, his eyes finding his feet in the sand, shuffling them. You could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in frustration. You wanted to say something but you also didn't want to ruin this moment, this chance to finally hear what it is he had to say after a month of trying to interpret stolen glances, brushed fingers and a dizzying pattern of body language that made you feel like you had swallowed a mason jar of butterflies.

Finally, he looked back at you, meeting you with such direct eye contact that you felt your breath hitch. His eyes were searching yours, looking for something. Trust? Understanding? Acknowledgement? Without thinking, you gave his hands a gentle squeeze.

It's okay, I feel it too.

And that seemed to be the reassurance that he needed, dropping your hands to cup your face with his, closing the distance between you. Before your brain could calculate what was happening, his lips were a breath away from yours, ghosting them gently with the slightest touch, teasing you, testing you, a wide smile on his face, reveling in the moment, knowing that he had you mind, body and soul before relenting and pressing his lips to yours gently, softly. The intense physical connection after so many subtle moments was like surfing a storm surge, waves crashing over you. You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him flush to you as he deepened the kiss, his left hand moving from your cheek to tangle and fist gently in your hair while the other snaked around your waist. Your body, your everything melted against him. He tasted like limes and ginger as his lips enveloped yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you let out an involuntary sound from deep within you. Your head and heart tossed like you were caught in a rip current, happy to let the force of the wave pull you down into oblivion, each crash of his lips saying be mine, be mine, be mine.

[bueckersfilm]

whenever i see a tiktok from someone who goes to uconn and the comments say bs like “omg you go to paige university??” i get secondhand embarrassment. pls stop.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

what do you think of the rainy day fight bpp? we’ve heard both sides’ version of the story but what really gets me is how jungkook during festa 2020 didn’t even feel any secondhand embarrassment when jimin was telling the story when all the other 5 members were feeling it lol jungkook was kind of endeared by the memory by the way he was smiling

***

Aren’t they just adorable?

Jimin was doing major damage control in that Festa 2020 live lmao. The members were calling it a romance drama, Jimin took over the telling from Jungkook, saying a whole lot without saying too much, and Jung Kook had the silliest most endeared smile on his face the whole time.

When Jungkook calls Jimin his catalyst, I feel the rainy day fight shows us one of the best examples of how Jimin fills that role for Jungkook.

My quick summary of what the rainy day fight was given what jikook have said about it: There was tension in the group due to how (a hormonal teenage) Jungkook behaved and treated his hyungs. Stern words were exchanged and everybody left the practice room, except Jimin and Jungkook. Jimin then had a frank conversation with Jungkook which ended with Jimin saying something to the effect of ‘if this is how you’re going to be, fine. I won’t care about you anymore.’

I feel like Jimin to that point had been Jungkook’s biggest support and most ardent advocate. I’ve talked before about how the attention Jimin showered on Jungkook in their early years was genuine and partly served the purpose of helping establish the maknae centrally within the group. Jungkook is someone who needs a lot of love, by his own admission, and Jimin is someone for whom giving love is instinct. It’s natural to him. They were both far from home and found home in each other.

I think the rainy day fight was one of the first times it really hit Jungkook how much he loved and relied on Jimin. Left alone in that practice room, rain pouring down hitting the roof tops, Jungkook felt a world in which Jimin treated him like any other bandmate was unbearable. He realized that for Jimin to even make a comment like that, he must’ve fucked up royally. It caused him to reflect and before long, he ran after Jimin.

We all know how the story ends, with jikook finding each other in the rain, hugging it out, and talking way past midnight on the roof of their dorm. The guys have said this happened in 2015 or 2016.

There’s no bigger Jimin Stan than Jungkook, and no bigger Jungkook Stan than Jimin. This hasn’t changed in 10+ years. And this is the thing that I find most interesting about jikook: how consistent they are. Not even the most highly awarded Oscar winner can put on an act for 10+ years, and then even when off the clock, choose to spend 18 months joined at the hip while completing a mandatory military service, all to serve a company’s fan service narrative.

Anybody who thinks Jungkook hates Jimin, would do anything malicious to him, or that Jimin thinks somehow less of Jungkook or would put up with bullshit from Jungkook because Jimin is oh so kind… anyone who thinks this is insane. In my opinion.

I’m talking daft as a brush, mad like a rabbit on crack. Just plain delusional, no two ways about it. Jikook are the og “you are me, I am you.” The rainy day fight is one of the key instances we see this play out, crystal clear.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Ouch, That Stings

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky’s first day on the farm is long. Very long.

Word Count: 3,680

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, alcohol consumption, mention of brass knuckles/ bruising, bee sting, Bucky being an absolute oaf, secondhand embarrassment, minor injuries, light mutual pining?, Y/N is used once, minimal afab reader descriptions

A/N: I just finished an exam, so obviously when I should’ve been studying, I had so much motivation that went straight into this chapter. Sorry if there’s minimal dialogue, I think the next will be mostly conversational interaction. And thank you guys so much for all the support already on ch. 1. You have no idea how much it means to me. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated. Literally, ask me anything. Even if it’s what I ate for dinner. Anyway, thank you for reading

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky returned to the car with his head held high. If he had to agree to this term of yours, he was going to do it with as much defiance as he could. He opened the door to the car, just to be greeted by Steve and Sam’s knowing smiles.

“I take it that went well,” Sam said to Bucky through the rear view mirror as he put the car in drive.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” Bucky grumbled as he hit the button to raise the partition.

Steve quickly shifted upwards in his seat to give the last word before the screen closed “We knew it was gonna come to this, boss!”

Throughout the hours-long drive back to the city, Bucky got lost in his thoughts. How could he fold to you so quickly? If he had to personally work on this farm, he was going to do his worst. He wasn’t going to give into the pull he could already feel in his heart by just talking with you once. He’d keep his head down and do the work, he wouldn’t show his interest, if anything, he’d act distinterested, grasping for the ability to appear as though he had the power in this deal.

Sam pulled into the parking garage of Bucky’s penthouse apartment and the three of them took the elevator all the way up. When they arrived, Sam and Steve plopped themselves down on the couch while Bucky poured himself a tall glass of whiskey.

“So do we get some, or??” Sam asked as he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.

Bucky tossed him back a glare that most definitely said no while Steve laughed, putting his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up to rest on the ornate glass coffee table.

Bucky walked over to one of the luxury chairs that sat across from the pair and set his glass on a coaster on the table.

“Steven. Feet. Down.” If Bucky was still in this mood after having hours to calm down, no one was going to be having a good time.

“Sorry, Buck. You know you didn’t have to get this fancy furniture. You could’ve gotten a wooden table like mine, and a couch that’s actually comfortable.” Steve lowered his feet and got up to pour a small glass of whiskey for Sam and himself.

Bucky rolled his eyes “I like the finer things, and I think all of this works just fine. It’s not like we’re in here much anyway. We’re always in the office or the mansion for meetings. I just wanted to see this place one more time before I abandon it for a month. And if this is any indication on how you’re going to treat my things and my operation, I’m concerned”

“So does that mean we’re really in charge?” Sam nodded to Steve as he grabbed the glass out of his hands.

“Well, technically, Steve’s in charge. He’s the new me. And you’re the new Steve”

Steve chuckled at this and looked over at Sam. “Well, Stevie, we better help Y/N’s new errand boy get packed then.”

Bucky had wanted to make the drive back out to your farm on his own, but you had insisted you’d pick him up. It’s not like one of his luxury cars had a place on dirt roads. And where was he going to go, anyway? This had to be an uninterrupted month. So he conceded.

That’s how he found himself in this situation, looking out at the land as you grabbed one of his bags out of your truck bed and tossed it at him while you grabbed the other two.

The sun was setting over the rolling hills and his distracted glance caused him to stumble backwards as his duffel hit his arms. Man, you were strong. “Keep up, James, time for a house tour.”

Bucky scrambled to the steps and followed you inside. You went straight up the stairs with his bags and he followed as you turned at the top and went to the end of the hall.

“Here’s your room for the month, bathroom is just next door and I’m across the hall if you need anything. There’s plenty of dresser and closet space for your clothes. Let’s get you unpacked, I wanna see if you’ve got proper farm attire, otherwise you’re gonna have to borrow some.”

Bucky hadn’t even realized he hadn’t spoken since the small talk the two of you had made on the drive here. He just nodded and put his bags on the bed to open them up. Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance and threw them open, proudly showing clothes that were very much not for working. You walked towards the bed and looked through the pairs of dress pants and button-up shirts that filled two of the three bags, with only a couple Henleys and one pair of jeans in the duffel.

“Is this seriously what you brought? This is a farm, not a yacht club.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle at that one. She’s fiery and funny. “In my defense, these pieces of clothing are dressed down for me. I don’t really own anything not nice. Work attire for me is strictly suits. You’re lucky I own a pair of jeans.”

You had a playful smirk on your face. What did you really expect? You were prepared for this anyway, but it didn’t mean you’d let him off easily. “What, you saying my overalls aren’t nice? Wow James, that’s low. You just earned yourself dinner duty. I’ll grab you some actual work clothes while you familiarize yourself with the kitchen. Hope my apron down there is good enough to keep your designer clothes clean.”

Bucky smiled as you turned on your heel and left the room. An actual, genuine smile. You weren’t even being sweet to him, you were being challenging and strong-headed and he loved it. He reflected on the past few years of business. Everything had come more easily once he had built his reputation in the city. People feared the name Barnes, making business effortless. Bucky hadn’t been challenged like this in years. He missed it, which made him think he made the right decision, but thinking about being challenged and actually having to do the work were two very different things. The smile was just starting to naturally slide off Bucky’s face as you called from the hallway “You’ve already seen pretty much all there is to the first floor. Meet you down there” as you disappeared into the other guest bedroom.

Although Bucky had walked through the first story of your home, it had only been in passing before. Now that he got to look closer, he saw the way you decorated your house. Your couch and chairs in the living room were worn and showed some we, but they were definitely taken care of, just like the kitchen appliances. Photos of friends and family and souvenirs from travels that he couldn’t decipher were your own or not lined the walls and shelves next to a small book collection.

He made his was to the pantry on the edge of your kitchen and looked through the ingredients. He wanted to keep it simple, but impressive, but also, not something too close to his heart. He liked you as a person, but he didn’t know you like that. Whatever he made, you were going to ask questions. You were so perceptive, and he couldn’t let himself be that vulnerable. Not yet. After grabbing some pasta, he went and looked through the fridge and found the ingredients for chicken parm. Perfect, who doesn’t love that?

Once you made your way downstairs from putting the folded clothes on Bucky’s bed, you started to smell basil wafting through the house. You made your way down to see Bucky in your apron. “Wheres a scotch or a good wine to pair with this amazing meal I’m making for you. Man, this is shaping up to be real easy”

You laughed, a deep, shoulder bouncing laugh and Bucky looked at you with furrowed brown and confusion in his eyes. Oh, he has no idea what he’s in for. “Good one, Barnes. I forgot to tell you a few rules we’ve got around here. First off, no alcohol until the weekends. We’ve got some early mornings ahead, plus you gotta earn it. Second, when we do drink, it’s almost strictly bourbon and beer. Good luck finding your high-end liquor out here without getting funny looks.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell some, but you could tell he was trying not to show a reaction. His cocky smirk was fading slowly. You knew how different your lives were, but only time and work would tell how steep this learning curve would be for him. That’s why you wanted him out here in the first place, to see the vast differences between your worlds and the effects that would come from his attempt to shove his into your space. Or more realistically, for him to attempt to hijack your land and mine tunnels with his heavy operations.

He turned away from you to finish cooking while you set the table for him, putting out tall glasses of water. “Thank you for making this, James. It’ll be good to be hydrated and carb-loaded for tomorrow. I swear you’ve never seen work like this in your life.”

Bucky woke up with a jolt to screeching outside his window. What on Earth? The sound came again and he could tell it was a rooster crowing. He thought that sound was just a cliché, and even if it did happen, it would’ve been with the sunrise. But the rooster was up, and so were you, based on the smell of eggs cooking that wafted under Bucky’s door. And now, begrudgingly, Bucky was awake, too. He tried to pull the covers back over his head. Bucky was used to not getting much sleep, with the late nights and early mornings his job demanded, but for some reason the warm bed was sucking him back in, in juxtaposition to the cool early morning air. Just as he began to feel the pull of sleep again, that rooster cawed and he tossed the covers off in frustration, just as you knocked on his door.

“James? Time for breakfast. How do you want your eggs? You’ve got until I make them to be dressed and have your heinie downstairs.” You opened the door, letting in a stream of light that blinded Bucky, causing him to groan throw and arm over his eyes. How did he like his eggs? Served hours later to him in bed, where he wished he could stay right now.

“Over easy” he mumbled

“Oh good, you’re up.” You left the door open while you walked back downstairs. Of course you were already dressed. Bucky didn’t want to know what the implied ‘or else’ of your previous statement was. He hoped it didn’t have to do with scooping poop for your many animals, and he didn’t want to risk it, so he pulled on his clothes and made his way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Little did he know, poop scooping was already in your plans for him, punishment or not.

During breakfast, you walked Bucky through the agenda for the day. He was only half-listening, still dazed by the way he was ripped out of his slumber by your darn rooster. He had picked up bits and pieces, though. Blah, blah, blah, ‘cows,’ blah, blah, blah ‘tractor,’ blah, blah, blah, ‘farmer’s market.’ It had to be easy enough, essentially he was following you all day.

By the time you two had finished breakfast and went outside, it was first light. Bucky checked the old, leather-banded watch you had given him on top of his pile last night to see the time. 5:14 am. Ugh, he’d been up for at least 20 minutes by now. How long had you been up?

“Ok, we’re already running a little bit behind schedule and that’s only gonna happen more since I’ve got to show you around and teach everything from the beginning. No worries, though. Today’s gonna be an easy day.”

A dozen heavy wheel barrow trips to feed the pigs, chickens, two kinds of cows, horses, goats, and sheep, four dozen dairy cow milkings, and three failed attempts at riding a horse later, Bucky looked up at you from his place sprawled on the ground. This was an easy day? Absolutely not. Despite the fact that he had to fall off the horse to end up in the middle of your field, laying like this was the best part of his day so far.

Who knew there were so many kinds of animal feed? Why were they all different? And why were they so heavy? Why did your one goat love head butting him so much? Bucky swore he was going to have permanent horn marks in his stomach, not unlike the ones left in his enemies from brass knuckles. And why were his clothes now covered in unpasteurized milk? Well, he knew why on that one, but it was still crusty. What had he signed up for? His body was so sore and he hadn’t sat down in six hours, so yeah, he was going to lay here on the ground. Maybe he could pretend to be dead. Maybe then this misery would end and you’d let him out of this deal. But that was wishful thinking as he cracked an eye open to see if he’d convinced you yet. Bad timing. Bucky was greeted with the sight of you leaning over him, hand reached out in an offer to get him up. Dang, every angle was your good angle.

“Alright, cowboy, one more thing, and then lunch.”

Bucky reached for your hand as you effortlessly lifted him up. You grabbed the reins of the horses, guiding them back to the barn. “I think that’s enough of that for you right now. I’ve honestly never seen anyone have that much trouble riding Ace before.”

At that, Bucky looked down, hiding his eyes from you and felt his face get hot as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Bucky hadn’t been embarrassed in years. He was good at his job, it came as second nature, so doing something new and failing at it was a foreign concept he didn’t love. You were being so kind with him learning, but he could tell you were just as exasperated as him. Although, you were hiding it better. If you had tried to make Bucky ride that horse one more time, he probably would’ve told you off and lost his precious deal. He couldn’t afford that.

You were trying so hard to be patient with Bucky, but was hard when you watched him do everything wrong. He very evidently had not listened to you at breakfast this morning. He had a long way to go, but luckily he had a month to figure it out. And you guys were heading to your favorite task, you couldn’t even call it a chore. Surely, this would be an easy one for Bucky.

After dropping off the horses, the two of you started walking through your native wildflower prairies towards the beehives. Every time you went through it, you were taken back by the beauty, and by the look on Bucky’s face, he was, too. Had you been looking at him this whole time? You had to admit he looked good in the old farm clothes you lent him, left behind by your old farmhand. It was all about half a size too small, though, but you’d never complain about seeing his bulging muscles stretch the fabric. Thank goodness for muscle memory as your legs carried you in the right direction, because you realized your mind had been solely occupied by Bucky as you made your way South within the property to reach the beehives.

You walked right up to the shed as you walked Bucky through all of the safety precautions of what you were doing and how exactly the honey was harvested. You explained the history of your family’s beekeeping and how the town went crazy for them at the farmer’s market you two were hosting at the end of the week. You went into the shed to get Bucky and yourself the proper protective gear.

“Now it may be a little difficult to see through the veil at first, but that’s ok. We’re not in a rush, so take your time. Plus, the bees will be calm as long as we keep pumping smoke into the hive.”

With this final warning, you and Bucky each started tending your own beehives, identifying which sections contained honey or not and setting them aside. This took a lot of multitasking and patience, which Bucky hadn’t seemed to have mastered yet, but you hoped he’d be ok. After all, this was something you’d done since you could drive a tractor, which was a young age around here. Rookie mistake on making that assumption.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a quick flash of movement. You turned your head to see Bucky swat the air. Followed by another one sooner, and then once again, until his arms were turning into a flailing mess. He’d forgotten to blow smoke and calm the bees down.

You were glad you’d sprung and made him put on the suit, despite his claims that ‘people on the internet do this without all this bulky equipment all the time. Bet it’s easy.’ Just as you thought back to that, though, in his frantic retreat from the hive, Bucky tripped over his own foot and fell flat on his face, veil flying forward off his head and several feet from the momentum he’d picked up. You both watched as a single bee fluttered down to his hairline.

“James, Bucky, I’m serious right now. Don’t move. You’re not allergic to bees, are you?”

This made Bucky stop and think for a little. Wait a minute, you didn’t know he wasn’t allergic to bees? And you let him do this task when it could’ve been fatal? He whipped his head around to tell you he wasn’t, completely forgetting that you’d told him not to move. The sudden jerk startled the bee, triggering it to sting Bucky in the temple.

“OW. Ouch, ouch, ouch, that stings!!”

You rushed over to Bucky and crouched beside him, putting the veil back on his head. You helped him up for what seemed like the thousandth time today and brushed off his shoulder.

“So you’re not allergic, right?” Your eyes were urgently looking him over for more stings and symptoms, as well as other injuries.

Bucky was fired up in his hangry and fed-up state, shooting back, “NO. But I can’t believe you let me do this without that knowledge.”

He stomped back to the shed while you cleaned up both of your stations. There wasn’t a response you could give him that would really make it better. You understood he was trying and this was all a lot. Your stomach grumbled, and rather than start a fight in your own hangry state, you decided to not respond. Plus, yeah, maybe you should’ve asked about allergies sooner. You made a mental note to do that tonight. You both just needed to eat. You could come back to this later, plus, you’d already grabbed most of the honey comb from yours. That should be enough for the market.

Just as you had prepared the honey comb to take back towards the house, you heard movement in the shed. It was the small thunks made by Bucky ripping off his gloves, veil, and the rest of the suit and throwing it back on the shelves. That was followed by a loud crash and metal clang. You could tell things had tumbled down off the wall. Bucky must’ve thrown one of the pieces a little too hard in a fit of rage.

You peeked through the door of the shed, not wanting to crowd Bucky too much, checking if he was okay. The doorway, though, was filled with a pair of old boots, attached to long legs, attached to a broad body propped up against a wall opposite the shelves. You began to snicker, unable to hold in your obvious amusement. Bucky moved his head a little to figure out where the sound was coming from, but you weren’t greeted by his eyes. No, a metal bucket had landed on Bucky’s head, entirely engulfing it. And in his fit of frustration and how done he was with the day, he just left it. Your snicker morphed into a giggle, then grew into full, guttural, hysterical laughter. You couldn’t stop. This was such a perfect moment that you had to capture it.

“Bucky Barnes? …. More like…. BUCKET BARNES!” you wheezed out in between gasps for air. Bucky sat there, bucket still on his head, but shoulders bouncing with his own laughter now. How could he not, yours was contagious, plus, that was a really clever one.

Once you caught your breath again. Bucky finally took the bucket off his head and looked up at you with a meek glance and red cheeks. “Ha ha ha, very funny. I think you’ve had your fill now in indulging in my bee-related misfortunes. But speaking about fill, is it time for lunch yet?”

The two of you headed back to the house and ate in a comfortable, exhausted silence, you writing out a simple to-do list that was more Bucky’s speed for after lunch, while he ate, using a fork in one hand, his other pressing an ice pack to his temple as his elbow rested on the table.

He sat there thinking about the fact that it hadn’t even been a day yet, let alone a month. Really, Buck, what have you gotten yourself into?

Next >

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

[kwinsispn3]

Enough

@spnfamilyj2m: Hi love, I hope you're doing alright! If this blog is still active, could you do a story where Sam and Dean find out about Y/N's self harm and eating disorder, and she's their little sister? Thank you!

Warnings: self harm, talk of ED/body dysmorphia, very angst and dark. A/N: if you are struggling, please reach out to someone <3. Also, sorry it's so long I went into detail, but I hope I wrote it okay for all.

Pairings: Winchester Brothers x sister!reader, plus Jody

Word Count: 4,317

You had grown up in a male dominant environment. You, Y/n Winchester was usually the only girl around your family and friends, the attention often fell on you because of that. But despite eyes always falling on you, body image wasn't something you really knew anything about, so it never crossed your mind. Well, it never used to.

None of the guys around you, mainly your brothers, never made any comments on how they viewed themselves, on the outside. There was never much emphasis put on physical appearance for you. The only thing on the outside that was a thing in your mind was clothes. You got hand me downs from Sam and Dean, secondhand clothes from thrift stores. Occasionally as you got older, you got to go shopping for new clothes - which became necessary because neither of your older brothers owned any bras.

Then you started high school... and it all changed.

Freshman year... It was like your eyes were opened for the very first time to the struggles of being a girl and your body image. It started when you were sitting in one of the bathroom stalls one day, a group of girls flooded in. They were considered one of the more popular groups in your grade. The group scattered around the sinks, you peeked through the slit in the stall door to see what they were doing. The girls were looking in the mirrors, faces pressed super close with their fingers picking, pulling, moving the skin on their face around.

"Ugh, how do you get rid of a double chin? I swear I'm starting to get one." One girl complained.

"I wish my fat would go to my face, mine's all going straight to my hips."

The girls kept going on and on, commenting on their appearances negatively, while complementing each other positively. You had never heard anyone talk like this before in middle school, before it was all about what outfit you were wearing, which you quickly learned didn't matter to you.

That evening when you got back to the bunker after school, you went into the bathroom to take a shower. After undressing, you caught your gaze in the mirror and stopped. The way you looked in the mirror at yourself that night was different from how you had ever looked at yourself before. You recalled the conversations between all those girls in the bathroom at school, it all began to manifest itself in your own mind.

The shower must have been running for almost a half hour, because Sam knocked on the door. You were normally quick to shower, but you hadn't even gotten in yet. You had gotten distracted looking at every inch of your body, grabbing different areas of skin and turning around to see every angle.

"Y/n? .... you alright in there?" Sam asked lightly.

You panicked. There was no way he would've believed if you were fixing your hair, or taking off your makeup. You weren't even wearing makeup yet, or doing anything crazy to your hair. You couldn't think of anything else, so...

"Uh, yeah! I just.... think I've been a little constipated." You called out, taking a step towards the toilet, giving it a flush. You slapped your head in embarrassment to what you just said.

"Oh. Okay..." Sam awkwardly said before walking away.

"Why's she taking so long?" Dean asked, as he saw Sam enter the library.

"Uhm. I guess she's trying to poop."

Dean made a face that Sam couldn't read, looking confused. "I don't wanna know...."

~

The rest of high school flew by in the blink of an eye. You could say you had a pretty distorted self image. You had good days where you felt confident, but bad days too where you felt self conscious. No one had ever gone out of their way to tell you how you looked. You never had anyone saying you were too thick or thin, it just all came from what you picked up on in your surroundings. The skin on your bones started to feel like it was too much. Seeing photos posted online from your peers in swimsuits and revealing outfits. You knew your brothers would NEVER let you out of the bunker wearing anything like them, but for you, all you wanted was to look thin and fit in your normal clothes. You didn't want your thighs to touch, or your stomach to fold over when you sat down. You really started to take it seriously after graduating high school.

You tried to start thinking about it with a healthy mentality of wanting to maintain a good diet and exercise. You thought, starting to create a good habit of doing so now, would make it easier in the future. But the intrusive thoughts kept creeping in your mind, telling you how you should look, and what you had to do to get there. So, you really started to commit.

You were too far into it at this point. Constantly body checking in the mirror and weighing yourself, multiple times per day. You'd go for runs twice a day, once in the early morning before your brothers woke up, then again in the afternoon. Finishing off workouts with sit-ups and pushups in your bedroom. You'd be lying if you said it was easy to hide from your brothers, they eventually started to pick up on it.

Part of you wanted to reach out for help, you wanted someone to help pull you out of this hellish habit you had dug yourself into. The other part of you couldn't. You couldn't bear to think of what Sam and Dean would think of you if they found out, or what they would do. You did a pretty good job of acting like yourself, normal attitude and all, even though you felt nothing like it. You only wore baggy clothes so they didn't notice how thin you had gotten. The only noticeable change was in your face, the bags under your eyes and how they looked sunken into your face. You chalked it up to a possible iron deficiency which was somehow believable enough for them.

You had a whole thing going, and you didn't... well, couldn't stop yourself. You had accepted that this was your life now, as terrible as it was. All until, a simple trip to Jody's fudged up your whole plan.

You three got out of the impala in Jody's driveway. You were kind of excited to be there, it had been a while since you three had seen anyone else besides each other. Jody happened to be on the way home after a hunt, Sam suggested stopping by after calling ahead to make sure she was home.

"Hey! you guys... and my girl!" Jody greeted happily at the door. You gave her a hug and walked inside. She looked taken back after hugging you, noticing how bony you felt. "What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, noticing her change in face.

"Um, nothing. It's just been a while, y'all have changed." She smiled back, brushing it off for now.

All of you sat down and started to catch up, after almost 2 hours, Jody suggested dinner.

"Is it alright if I order pizza? I didn't get the chance to prepare anything before you guys showed up." Jody chuckled.

"No worries, Jody. Uh, yeah I'm down though." Dean smirked, looking at you and Sam. He said yes as well, and you nodded.

SHIT. Dinner. You didn't even think about that. Jody usually offers dinner when you three visit, knowing how you guys don't get chances to sit down together much.

The pizza arrived and you were panicking. It felt nauseating just thinking about eating. You all sat down and prepared your plates. You picked at your plate, taking the slightest nibble, not able to force yourself to eat any more. Jody noticed immediately, never seeing you behave this way.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked lightly.

Your heart was pounding. "Um, yeah... why?"

"You've barely touched your pizza..." Jody pointed out, grabbing Sam and Dean's attention.

"Oh, I... I'm just not feeling too well." next thing you see is a hand reaching out and palming your forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever." Dean said while chewing his food.

"No, it's nothing like that. My stomach just feels a little queasy." You sat back, placing a hand on your stomach. You weren't lying, you did feel a little nauseated.

"Well, here, drink some water." Sam pushed your glass of water closer to you. "Just... try and eat a little bit." Dean chimed in.

All of their questions and nagging felt like they were getting to you, they were probably starting to get suspicious. You just couldn't bring yourself to eat another bite, your stomach started swimming and you couldn't hold it back anymore. You jumped up from the table, rushing to the bathroom.

"Y/n?!" Jody called out, rushing after you with Sam and Dean following behind. Jody approached the threshold of the bathroom door, seeing you hunched over the toilet. "Oh, honey..." Jody came over, placing a gentle hand on your back and helping you hold your hair. She turned around to Sam and Dean who were towering in the doorway, making the bathroom feel smaller than it was. She waved her other hand at them, motioning nicely for them to get out.

You were breathing heavily, having nothing else in your stomach to get out. You started dry heaving, Jody sat next to you, attempting to calm you down. As you found even breaths again, you sat down next to the bathtub, letting it hold you up with your hands in your lap. You felt so weak and defeated, and knew Jody was going to start asking questions.

"Y/n.... are you sure you're just sick?" She asked, studying your body language and pretty much everything else. You nodded weakly, avoiding eye contact. She gently lifted your hands into hers, rubbing her thumbs against your palms and your wrists in a calming way. You didn't notice, but she proceeded to feel how small your arms felt in her hands.

Jody's breath hitched, she looked up at you with such sadness and disbelief in her eyes. "Y/n! What is going on?" She asked in a hushed but urgent voice.

You tried holding back the tears, but her words broke you. You knew she was disappointed. Jody looked at you with sad eyes and pulled you into a hug. You accepted and wrapped your arms around her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I'm sorry..." You finally cried out.

Jody pulled back slightly. "Hey, you don't need to apologize. I just don't want to see you hurt yourself. If you're hurting, you need to ask for help." You nodded again, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say anything.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should." She suggested, but knowing she was more politely demanding. "Are you eating?"

There was a long silence. You were barely eating, you knew what you were doing. You just didn't want to admit to it out loud. You gave in and shook your head 'no'

Jody let out a heavy long sigh. "Does Sam or Dean know?"

You shook your head 'no' again, and urgently looked up towards the door, remembering where you were and what was going on. You had really hoped they weren't around the corner listening. "Well, I really think you should tell them..." Jody said. She continued to talk to you about what you were doing and how it was going to hurt you in the long run if you didn't stop soon. She was very mindful of her word choice, careful not to upset or trigger you. You stared blankly at the wall, listening to her spiel, sort of waiting for it to be over so you could go home. You were so tired, and just wanted to sink into your bed and go to sleep so you wouldn't have to deal with everything.

"We all love you y/n. I'm not mad... I will say I am upset to see you like this, but that's because I care about you, and so do Dean and Sam."

"Can you promise me that you'll tell them?" Jody asked.

You nodded slowly in response. "Yeah." You said, barely a whisper. You lied. You didn't want to tell them. You knew you should, but you weren't ready. "Okay, why don't you go wait in the car, I'm gonna say goodbye to the boys." Jody stood up, helping you up and out of the bathroom.

You walked past the kitchen where your brothers were sitting to reach the front door. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn't engage. You climbed into the backseat of the impala and sprawled across the bench, laying your head down and crying softly to yourself before falling asleep.

Jody came back into the kitchen with both the Winchester boys' eyes on her. Sam looked extremely concerned, Dean just looked deflated of emotion.

"Well...? Is she okay?" Sam asked.

Jody paused. "Well... honestly... no. And, I really shouldn't be telling you this, because she promised me she would tell you both. But... I don't think she's ready to say anything anytime soon, so..."

"So, what's the problem?" Sam asked once more.

"I think... she most definitely has some kind of eating disorder going on."

Sam and Dean were definitely shocked to say the least. They knew their baby sister had struggled with things before like depression and anxiety, but nothing like this. Jody of course made sure that they had an idea to what that meant, which they did to an extent. But Jody still took some time to explain to them the whole picture and how to go about dealing with it for you.

"Thanks, Jody." Sam said as they finished up their conversation and got ready to leave.

Dean was speechless. He couldn't fathom that you felt this way, were doing this to yourself. All under his care and he didn't even know. That's what hurt the most.

"Thanks.... uh." Dean muttered. Jody pulled him into a hug after Sam's hug. "I know, it's a lot to handle."

"We'll be in touch." Dean gave the best smile he could muster up. "Yes, we will. Call me if you need anything." Jody emphasized. Both men gave her a wave as the got into the car.

First thing they did was look back at you, thinking they would have to say something, start discussing things on the way home. They weren't looking forward to it, knowing how upset and vulnerable you'd feel. But you were fast asleep. A little bit of relief washed over them both. They could give you the night to rest, start fresh, and give themselves the night to think. You all got home pretty late, you were still sleeping in the back seat.

"I'll get her to bed, if you wanna unpack the car." Sam offered.

"No, I got 'er." Dean said softly. He opened the back door and slowly scooted your body out of the car towards his reach. He lifted you up like it was nothing to him. Of course, he hadn't recalled the last time he had to carry you to bed, but you were definitely a lot lighter. Dean cringed at how little you weighed as he carried you to bed, setting your frame down on the mattress. He stood there for a moment, taking in your appearance, not wanting to believe that you were dealing with... what you were dealing with. He questioned himself, wondering if there was something he should have done better to prevent you from thinking that way about yourself.

Sam popped in the doorway. "Hey... "

Dean turned around, acknowledging his presence, then looking back once more before leaving the room. He closed your door quietly and stood there still outside of it.

"Sammy, I.... I don't know what to do." Dean paused, not sure if he wanted to continue.

"I know. It's uh..." Sam also at a loss for words.

"I just don't wanna say the wrong thing, or make it worse, but we can't let her keep going like that."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well... remember. Jody said we just gotta take it one step at-."

"Yup. Got it." Dean cut him off. The two exchanged looks before going their separate ways for the night.

~

You woke up in your bed, like usual, but slowly started to recall the events of last night. You stared at the ceiling, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to do anything. You looked over at the time to see you had slept in a little bit. Normally, you would've been up already after your first morning run, and then eating "breakfast". But you could feel how much your body was craving that sleep. You returned your gaze back to the ceiling and teared up, and then became silent cries. You felt like such a let down and so embarrassed. Jody knew, and soon your brothers had to know if they didn't already know. You didn't want them to know you had sunk this low.

You got up and decided to just go face them now. Knowing that if you hid in your room all day, they'd get suspicious and come check on you anyways. But, hey, maybe there was a chance that Jody didn't tell them. You immediately smelled breakfast in the halls of the bunker. It wasn't your usual "breakfast" it was actually breakfast. You knew Dean for sure made something for all three of you. You reluctantly entered the kitchen to see them sitting down at the table, with a plate waiting for you.

"Morning, sweetheart!" Dean said with as much enthusiasm as he could without sounding like too much. Sam had a sympathetic smile on his face. Oh shit, they definitely knew.

You sat down, not knowing why. You really wanted to run back into your room and go back to bed. There was a silence that fell over the room.

"Sleep well?" Dean asked.

You had no desire to talk, but maybe you didn't have to just yet if you played along. You had been doing it for this long so far. "Yeah, actually. Feeling much better." You added some cheer into your voice, reaching for the fork and knife next to your plate of scrambled eggs.

The brothers exchanged some confused looks. You knew they were onto you, so, you attempted to eat a little bit of eggs before excusing yourself. "Mhm, I need to pee... I'll uh, finish this later." You said getting up from your seat and leaving the room before they could say anything. So many thoughts crossed your mind walking back to your room.

Why didn't I just stay in my room, I could've avoided that, I feel terrible, I just want this all to stop.

You closed the door to your room, walking over to your bed and sinking down to the floor, leaning against the frame. You needed a distraction from everything in your mind, and proceeded to do the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching in your nightstand for a razor blade, you pinched it between your fingers and held it to the side of your wrist. You took a breath before dragging the blade against the skin, taking a longer deep breath and letting your mind focus on it.

~

Sam and Dean look at each other, so much going through each of their minds.

"Was this too much? Did we try too soon?" Dean fretted.

"I don't know, I can't tell yet." Sam whispered.

They spoke softly as you walked away, but they heard you close your bedroom door, not the bathroom door. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He thought more and more about your behavior over the past year and tried piecing it together.

Both of them agreed one of them should go talk to you. Both of them talking at once right now might make it feel like a lot for you. Dean stood up, taking the plates away, starting to clean up. Sam got up slowly after that and made his way towards your room.

"Y/n?" He called out softly after knocking.

You were so focused on what you were doing, it almost felt like you were in a trance for a moment. Then the noise of Sam knocking registered in your brain, but it was too late.

"Y/n? Can I-" He stopped as he opened your door slightly, seeing you sitting there on the ground with a blade up to your wrist.

You turned around in shock and jumped when you saw him. You broke down as you walked up to the door, almost falling over trying to shut it. Sam was quick to put his hands on the door, not letting you close it. "Sam, stop!!" You rose your voice.

"Y/n! It's okay." Was all Sam could say as he pushed past the door to you. He grasped your wrists, not wanting you to hurt yourself any more. He picked up the razor blade off the ground, quickly putting it in his pocket. "No! Let go, please!" You pleaded.

"Y/n/n, please. It's okay." Sam said in his most calm voice. He dragged you a bit towards the bathroom, your weak legs having no choice but to follow him. Sam turned on the sink, reaching to put your wrist under the running water. You tried to pull away, he gave you a sympathetic look but held your hand there as he reached with his other hand for a few tissues and a towel. You winced in pain as he put pressure with tissue on your cut.

Dean heard the frustrated voices and commotion so he dropped what he was doing and walked towards it, stopping when he noticed you and Sam through the doorway to the bathroom. He saw Sam holding bloody tissues to your wrist and knew.

"Y/n! Wha-....."

"It's alright, c'mon." Sam felt you tense up and guided you back to your room.

"Sam, no. It's not alright." Dean followed closely behind.

"Dean! Not now." Sam rushed. He went and sat you down on your bed, wanting you to feel comfortable.

"Uh, yeah we're gonna do this now... now that she's doing this too!" Dean's voice got louder. You could tell by his voice that he wasn't mad, he was just furiously worried, which was sometimes worse.

"Too?" You asked hesitantly.

"Yeah y/n, too! As in, I don't need you hurting yourself in multiple ways now." Dean yelled.

That was it, you couldn't hold back anymore and let your emotions go. They knew, they knew for sure. You had disappointed them, and got them worried about you.

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, not being able to help himself.

"Dean! If you can't contain yourself, you need to step out." Sam urged.

"You are such a beautiful girl, y/n." Dean ignored Sam. "You know you can always come to us, right? You're scarin' me right now."

"M' sorry, Dean." You cried, dropping your head down and letting your hair fall to the sides. Sam tucked your hair behind your ear, still kneeled in front of you holding your wrist in a towel.

Hearing you in such pain made Dean turn around, taking in the scene in front of him. "No... no, no, no y/n. You don't need to apologize. "I'm just sorry that something or someone around made you feel like you aren't good enough. Not beautiful enough. Cause, that is not the case at all... You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on." Dean came closer, kneeling down next to you.

His words made their way to your heart and you couldn't help but break down that wall you had built up for so long. You nodded. "I never meant for it to go this far." You cried, still looking down. "Please don't send me away, somewhere. I can't do that. I'll try, I can't go-." You sent your mind into a panic, starting to talk in a frenzy.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. We don't want to send you away....but... we do think you should at least go talk to someone." Sam reassured.

"I agree." Dean chimed in. "A-and we- me and Sam will be here for you, whatever you need!"

You looked up and looked at both of your brothers. You nodded, letting a few more tears go. "I tried to tell you before, but I couldn't..."

"I know bug, it's alright. But, we are in this world to make a mark with our qualities, our talents, what makes us unique. Not our looks. Lead with the inside, not the outside, because that's the part that matters. Sam expressed.

"I just don't want to see you worrying about the wrong things. You are worth so much more than how you look. We love you, y/n. We want to see you love yourself, and you deserve to."

You calmed down and sat for a while with Sam and Dean, listening to their words. You felt a lightness wash over you, feeling a little sense of yourself come back. "Thank you." you said. "I'm scared as hell, but I want things to be different."

Sam wiped your stray tears with this thumb, and placed a hand over your shoulder. "That's okay, that is a great start!"

"We got you, y/n. Always." Dean brought you into a hug with Sam. You let out a much needed breath, relaxing your tenseness, feeling safe and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

[hijackalx]

ASTARION SFW HEADCANONS:

yall he would be so embarrassed by how vampires are portrayed in the media. like enraged 😭😭 he feels like they make him look like a joke and would refuse to watch/read anything with vampires in it bcz nobody ever gets it right. but if modern day tav DID ever get him to watch twilight with them he would be like shrinking into his shirt from secondhand embarrassment AT FIRST but i feel like he would eventually get invested LMAO like u know how dads stand in front of the tv and get stuck there bcz theyre too interested lol that kind of vibe

sooo hedonistic and materialistic like he loves all things luxurious, chocolates, expensive fabrics, comfortable furniture etc. he does NOT want to settle for anything less. but this also means he expects the same for tav 🥰 but he's kind of messy too? like it makes sense with being materialistic bcz eventually youll have lots of clutter. his tent has all kinds of unnecessary shit

hes lowkey sentimental. LOWKEY THOUGH he would never admit it. like if tav ever gave him something like idk, a necklace they found or something and said it made them think of him he'd literally keep it forever and ever. dont call him out on it tho bcz he'll get defensive af 😔 HES SUCH A BABY

tav and him will argue A LOT but thats because he purposely pushes ppls buttons. (nsfw mention) its like foreplay to him and if u read the nsfw section youll see why lol

so sooooo jealous but only if he feels like youre getting too close to someone else. like initially i dont think tav sleeping with someone else makes him jealous bcz of his backstory like he doesnt rlly view sex as something that only happens between two ppl that love each other and thats what would bother him the most. and i think hes only open sexually bcz hes conditioned himself to be that way, like maybe after a while of being with tav it really would start to bother him if they were sleeping with other ppl and he'd eventually want to be exclusive.

also he cares abt tav so much. like he pretends like he doesnt but if they freak him out enough theyll see just how much he worries abt them and wants them safe 😭❤️

love language:

giving = words of affirmation. he loves to call tav pet names and comment on how good they are at things and how good they look etc. he LOVESSS it especially if tav responds to it in any way (physically or verbally) bcz he also loves to tease lol. also dare i say physical touch? like just innocently touching tav all the time. this i feel bcz he (spoiler???) rlly enjoyed the hug during his confession scene and also wants to hold tav's hand after. (end of possible spoiler) like he'll prolly do little things like rub tav's back or caress their face randomly while theyre talking to him lol all very sensual tho hes a very sensual man

receiving = words of affirmation and physical touch lol both in the way i described before. i dont think he would like tav teasing him tho most of the time he gets genuinely pissed off 😹😹😹 hes just a lil short tempered

apparently hes 5'9 but i dont know where thats coming from lol i dont get that vibe he looks pretty lanky i would say between 5'11-6' is more realistic like lets be honest a 5'9 man lured back all those victims for cazador? be so fucking for real 😭😭 also decent muscle tone not scrawny but not SWOLE

ASTARION NSFW HEADCANONS:

lets go girls and gays 👯 for starters i dont really see him enjoying being submissive at all like u had to roll a 15 to even get the mf to say 'please'. i think this is especially because he hates having his autonomy taken away from him but he has a controlling personality in general (he was deciding ppls fates as a magistrate before cazador 🧍🏼like HELLO what the fuck was that 😹😹) . he likes to call the shots BUT i dont think hes selfish (kinda feel like hes a giver lowkey?? are we feeling the service dom allegations ??) he just withholds what tav likes until they do what he wants or theyre good for him. he always remembers to reward them tho 😇

he LOVES BRATS (hence the arguing mentioned before) !!!!!!! theyre his absolute favorite like theres something abt putting someone in their place that turns him on so much. theyre also so fun. he usually does it by being mean and degrading them tho lol. but once they submit to him hes so soo sweet. theyll also get bonus points for calling him something that implies hes above them (daddy, sir, master) but he wont make them. he prolly likes to see if he can make them do it voluntarily for an ego boost lol.

hes sadistic in the sense that he likes to “hurt” tav but not in extreme ways. he likes them too much for that. like he'll pull their hair and choke them (bite them) or something but he wont cause them horrific pain if u catch my drift. i still feel like hes into seeing them cry tho lol like if they go to him for a shoulder to cry on he'll try to act sympathetic but he'll also pop a boner HELP HES THE WORST

takes forever to cum like bro 🙄 I GOT RUG BURN ON MY PUSSY !!!! also has a very attractive pp probably 6-7 inches? like its textbook perfect. upwards curve. pink tip. shall i go on.

he wont do this to a one night stand but if he likes tav enough he'll want to mark or claim them in some way. like leaving bite marks and bruises EVERYWHERE or even cumming inside them.

also not as kinky as u would think like keep ur questionable kinks away from this man he will judge so hard. MAJOR kink shamer. in short no u cannot piss on him lmao leave peepaw alone

aftercare with him depends. at first its rlly cold and u get corny rehearsed lines and he cant wait to go sleep by himself 😭😭😭 BUT after he catches feelings hes very attentive and will help tav clean up. also will prefer to stay with them until morning.

[kaneaken]

If requests are open,

Imagine we're secretly watching Winx Club, and diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli (separate) barges in on us, (their s/o) to find us watching it.

how would they react? Would they tease? I would die of secondhand embarrassment

author's note; honestly, if someone walked in on me watching it, I would force them to sit with me. I had to cut out Diluc because I was getting repetitive, but I hope the other three can make up from him (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) I hope you don't mind how late this is (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) please enjoy :)

content notes; gn!reader, short bullets, bullet format, implied modern au

CHILDE

honestly, with having so many siblings, childe most likely knows what winx club is

tonia most definitely forced her brother to sit with her and watch the entirety of winx club

he knows the lore of the show like the back of his hand

and he has a favorite character (which I'll let you guys debate)

so, when he spots you watching it, he joins in

just plops onto the couch next to you and starts watching it with you

he's definitely like a live commentator

he always finds something to say about the show

whether it's how much he likes this scene, how much he likes that transformation, how much he wants to fight every villain of the show because he totally could beat them

(if you ever get a chance, ask tonia about winx club and her brother, and she'll pull up a photo of him dressed up as one of the characters)

KAEYA

kaeya definitely knows winx club, thanks to babysitting klee

now, kaeya, kaeya might tease, not in a mean way or anything

more of a 'can't believe you're watching winx club.. without me' kinda teasing

honestly, he's the type to start a debate with you over which transformation is best

you literally have to pause to show to finish that debate

he just does it to make you ramble and talk because he likes watching you do that

but also he gets really into the debate at one point (he's defending klee's favorite, so he's gotta put in the work)

you guys end up forgetting about the show and spend about an hour debating the whole thing

he won in the end

ZHONGLI

now, zhongli, like diluc, has heard of it maybe once or twice, but he's never watched it himself

when he walks in on you watching winx, he wouldn't pay much attention to it

if you ask if he wants to join, he'll definitely take a seat next to you

he's similar to childe because he ends up talking during the show

he'll see something and ask a question

like 'why are they transforming?'

'why are there so many different versions?'

you definitely have to pause a lot to explain to him the best you could

he definitely gets invested, even ends up asking you to let him know when you'll be going on a winx watch marathon again