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adelheidvonschicksal · 6 months

Note

hii i have a request for megumi x reader where he is unaware of readers attraction to him and he is doesn’t realise the effect of when he does something like scratch his neck and his shirt lifts and it happens one too many times until she admits that he’s pretty which makes him all flustered😭 can be sfw or nsfw

Staring Problem

Five times Megumi caught you staring at him + the one time you caught him staring at you

Notes: I got carried away whoops. Flustered Megs is my fav followed by feral. (I actually had another scenario like this for Christmas except the Reader was doing it on purpose rofl; this one is just a bit ditzy). Thanks for the request. It was fun! Thank you @avidbroswer and another friend for beta reading!

Relationship: Megumi x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, humor, mild sexual context but overall SFW (i.e. no sex), 5000 words

The first time Megumi notices you staring at him is after the baseball game with the Kyoto students.

The game was a big win for your group. Everyone was loudly cheering and celebrating your victory over your sister school – aside from him. It’s not that he wasn’t pleased with the victory. Who wouldn’t be? The cheering and high-fiving wasn’t his scene though. The most celebration he required was simply brushing his hand through divine dog’s fur for a job well done before dismissing the creature.

Megumi walks back to the dugout, steps into the drop-off, and peels his helmet from the top of his head. The sweat accumulated in his helmet causes his hair to cling to him, forcing it down against the back of his neck and his bangs into his line of sight more than usual. He never liked what he considered too much hair on his nape; and for some reason, Gojo hated it even more. Not that he ever understood why Gojo would care about how he styled his hair. He was just weird, he guesses.

Either way, it was annoying.

Gripping his shirt collar, he brings it to his forehead to clean the moisture away, and there’s the added bonus of the breeze cooling off his stomach as his shirt untucks from his uniform pants. He finishes off his grooming with a quick stroke of his fingers up through his bangs before reaching for his water bottle.

It isn’t until he’s finished drinking and wiping away the small bead of water that escapes his mouth to cascade down his pointed jaw with the back of his wrist that he catches the sudden sensation of someone looking at him.

He glances behind him, scanning the crowd of cheerful faces, and he catches your gaze pinning him down. There’s no mistake you’re watching him, but he isn’t sure why you have that clouded, half-lidded stare locked on him like a homing gun.

It makes him antsy even when your neutral lips turn into a gentle smile, and you move to congratulate Itadori on his victory-winning home run.

The next time he catches you, you’re at the café with the other first years, pouring over schoolbooks together. He doesn’t often study with the others outside of class; but out of everyone in the school, he has the best head on his shoulders academically so he can’t really refuse when the three of you earnestly ask for his help for once.

As he draws one leg over the other, Megumi shifts his weight to sit more comfortably in his chair. He rests his chin against his palm, allowing his lengthy fingers to massage the increasingly growing migraine from his throbbing temple while his elbow braces against the table to support the position. His other hand tightens around the handle of his mug and brings it to his mouth. The drink – coffee, black, always – is the only thing stopping his mind from going numb at reviewing the same information he already knows as Nobara struggles to read the chart on this particular page.

“Toos-day.”

“Tuesday.”

“When-is-day.”

“Wednesday,” Megumi corrects.

Stomping onto her feet, her hands slam on the table causing it to shake. Megumi holds his drink closer to his chest to avoid it spilling over as she growls out. “This is so stupid! Why do we need to know English anyway? Why couldn’t it be something like French? Then, we could at least hit up Paris Fashion Week.” She pulls at her hair in frustration, stopping only when you mention that she’ll cause split ends. Sighing, she releases her tension and falls back in her chair. "I need a break."

On that, you're all in agreement.

Taking the opportunity to ease his head, Megumi blows away the steam swirling from his coffee. He closes his eyes if only for a moment to bask in the roast. The liquid is hot and smooth on his tongue, a welcome sensation after walking through the cool evening to get here. It’s enough to earn a small sigh of approval.

When he opens his eyes, he sees that you’re nursing your own drink by pinching your straw between your lips. However, your eyes are on him 'or maybe the mug near his mouth?' he thinks. Regardless, you’re doing it attentively with an affectionate glint like you were smiling on the inside. It makes his eye twitch.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You flinch like you’re snapping out a hypnotic trance. Slowly, a meek smile forms as you innocently tilt your head and place down your drink. “I was?”

“You were," Itadori corroborates. "You do it a lot actually," Itadori adds between bites of his sandwich. The fact is something Megumi has begun to notice recently as well.

Noticing everyone looking at you, your eyes widen slightly before you force them back down to look at your textbook. You slide your hands from the table and rest them in your lap. “I must’ve zoned out,” you say apologetically.

Megumi scoffs.

“If you’re going to ask me to help you study, you could at least pay attention.” Megumi sighs at the growing remorse on your face. “Forget it,” he dismisses and decides to go back to his coffee, but the peace doesn’t last long as he catches that same gaze from you a minute later.

Your eyebrows push in together as you narrow your eyes briefly in thought, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on in your mind as you cock your head to the side again.

“Ne, Fushiguro,” you begin hesitantly and quietly. He doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you speaking to him with how soft your voice was had he not already been looking at you. “Did anyone ever tell you that your voice is kinda husky in English?”

Suddenly, his face is hot along with his tongue as he inadvertently chokes on his drink while the other two at the table burst out laughing, drowning out your frantic mutterings as you collapse your face into your palms.

It seems to be a cycle now. Megumi would be going about his day when he would occasionally (usually twice a day) get this sensation of being watched. Sure enough, he could find you following him with your eyes. There isn’t any anger when you’re doing it so he’s fairly sure that you’re not cornering him with your sight out of aggression, but he couldn’t think of another reason his presence would be of interest to you.

Megumi tried to ask Gojo the reason why someone might stare at him. When he explained that you were the one doing it, the older man only laughed at his predicament. Megumi didn’t know why he expected him to be any help in the first place anyway.

Maki was even less help (she seemed reluctant even), but at least she didn't look at him like he was an idiot like Nobara. Finally, there was Itadori, who only caused him more difficulty.

(“Are you sure she doesn’t just LIKE you?” Itadori suggested.

Megumi could only roll his eyes then. It always came back to that with him. “Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously—“

”I am!”)

Megumi almost entertained it until he thought ‘what reason would she like me?’ After all, you didn’t know each other that well. There was no explanation available so it had to be something else.

Out of everyone, he decides to take Maki’s advice that it's best to get the answer from the source.

However, whenever he asks what’s the problem, you never seem to give him a direct answer, explaining away your strange…habit. Even stranger was that he was starting to become accustomed to it, slowly losing the annoyance he held for it early on in your relationship – or maybe he was getting better at ignoring it.

Nonetheless, it would still be nice to have an explanation.

When he sees you early at breakfast, and you undoubtedly see him early at breakfast, he finally decides to broach the topic. He sits himself and his plate at your table, and he doesn’t give you the time to make excuses when he knows for certain you were staring at him.

“Alright. Enough already. What's the deal?"

“Hmm?”

“The staring,” he reiterates.

Your mouth opens like you want to say something but throughout the many times he’s confronted you on your manners, not once have you ever given him a straightforward answer.

“Don’t try to give an excuse. You were definitely watching me.”

As the small silence extends in the air so does the embarrassment on your face until it finally fades away along with your resolve. “Okay, this time I was,” you admit very specifically.

“Why?”

“There’s not really a reason," you explain while looking anywhere but directly at him, and it's an easy tell to sense that you're lying.

Megumi narrows his eyes at you.

“For some reason, I feel like that's not the case."

There has to be some reason your attention is on him so much. He’d at least like to know if it was something he did to you.

“It’s nothing bad really,” you confess, avoiding eye contact with him while your fingers fidget. “Do…you want me to stop?”

Megumi would very much like to say he wants you to stop but somehow he doesn’t think he would be able to force you not to look at him. “I’d prefer it.”

“No problem,” you say and purse your lips tightly. “But…I probably wouldn’t be able to help it every now and then,” you warn him, which piques his curiosity even more.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, that’s because, uhm—to tell you the truth,“ you pause, and he wants to prod more from you but you’re quick to excuse yourself, leaving him with two weeks free from your staring. Or, at least you attempted for that long.

As he accepts that you're not going to stop, it comes to him that he doesn't really care anymore in the following months. It's just how you are, he figures sentimentally. It would feel weird if you stopped at this point. However, it leads to you catching him off guard too often, especially in moments like these.

The two of you were assigned to a mission to dispatch some low-level curses together. It was surprisingly easier than what the mission report suggested, not that he would complain about an easy mission.

Nue is behind him as he requests a ride back to the school over the phone. The bird shikigami is being needier than usual, nudging at the width of Megumi’s back with his head causing Megumi’s voice to be unsteady as the thick plate of Nue’s mask braces between his shoulder blades.

“Cut it out,” he scolds gently, reaching his free hand back to briefly ruffle at random mounds of feathers.

There’s a soft crooning in his ear, begging for attention. He isn’t used to Nue being this affectionate, not like his divine dogs. As he hangs up the call, Nue starts to stroke his head against his side again.

Amused, he huffs softly - as close to a laugh as anyone has ever heard from the taciturn teen – and raises his arm to let the bird cradle better against his side. The gentle cuddling from the shikigami is enough to lighten his mood as auburn feathers tickle against his fingers and coax the smallest smile from him.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough,” he says affectionately before returning to the serious matters at hand. “We need to regroup with our partner. Can you go scout for her?” Megumi asks; but to his surprise, Nue flutters his wings and twists his head around to stare directly to the side of him…at you, a few feet away.

Megumi didn’t know how long you’d been standing there, watching him. He thinks any time was probably too long in this situation. (He also thinks he might demand you start wearing a bell when you go on missions together.)

With a goofy smile, you walk towards him, and his heart is pounding, anticipating what you could possibly be about to say as you shorten the distance between the two of you, so close that an outreached arm would be enough to close it. The childishly smug look on your face makes his cheeks burn as you gently begin to trace the outline on Nue’s faceplate and press your head against the top of Nue’s.

“Before you say anything, I wasn’t watching you. I was admiring Nue.”

Megumi scoffs. He can’t say he isn’t amused that out of all things to say, you start with that. As if it isn’t obvious by now that he knows that you’re failing hard to hide your bad habit – for whatever reason you have it. And even more amusing was the way your face would highlight in embarrassment as you tried to hide the fact.

“Convenient story.”

“It’s the truth. Isn’t that right, Nue? You’re so handsome that I can’t tear my eyes away,” you praise, cuddling the owl until he ruffles his feathers and chitters, happily letting you drown him in attention.

And for the first time, he finds himself watching you instead with your face buried against his shikigami, and Nue is equally happy for your touch. It’s a sweet scene as Megumi concludes where Nue might have started to learn these overly affectionate tendencies. That is until you turn your head, naturally searching for his presence. When you meet his gaze, you smile warmly at him causing heat to crawl up the back of his neck and his heart to jump in his throat. With your focus on him this way, he is overwhelmed by a new sensation that he isn’t sure why he’s feeling in the first place. It’s not like he was unused to you looking in his direction.

Astonished by the moment, you point out, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.”

Confused, Megumi blinks at you. Had he been smiling?

Your expression softens. “It suits you.”

Surprised by your tender observation, he shifts his head away, hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks from you.

“Let’s head to the meeting point,” he manages, thanking whoever above that he was able to keep his voice steady at least.

One day, you decided to stop at the café together again. This time it’s only the two of you since the others are still out on their own duo mission. Even with that being the case, he would still have accepted your invitation regardless of the availability status of your other two friends. He isn’t really sure when he started to be okay being alone with you, and he also isn’t sure when you began to get comfortable with him as well. But he finds he doesn't mind either of those anymore.

“You’re staring,” he points out flatly, not bothering to look up from his book to confirm his accusation. He knows it’s true. “What is it this time?”

There’s a laugh from you, drawing his attention up. “Nothing.”

Normally, he would let you get away with that answer nowadays; but today, Megumi is determined to finally get to the bottom of whatever is up with you and him.

“Nothing?” he questions again skeptically. You nod, and he holds his gaze on you, pointedly, securely, determined to not even blink as he watches your face.

You frown. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” he asks, one long blink to reset himself before firmly keeping royal blue eyes locked on you once more.

“That,” you say, motioning to all of him.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Uh-huh."

There’s a small beat of quiet as you return your focus to your book, but you look up every so often (probably to check if he's stopped eye-ing you down, which he doesn't). Holding an arm across your chest to scratch at the other, you squirm. As awful as it is, he feels a bit smug at the way you curve in and start to grow self-conscious.

“This is weird.”

“It is,” he agrees bluntly causing you to pout. He notes how funny it is to finally see the tables turned between the two of you and to have you overly aware of his watch. Even if he doesn’t get his answer, teasing you like this and eliciting that cute reaction is strangely worth it.

“How long are you going to do that?”

Megumi crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, never letting you leave his vision. He shrugs. “Depends. Are you going to tell me?”

You scowl but manage to hold your resolve for the better half of five minutes.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stop,” you say, but he isn’t satisfied with that answer. Choosing to keep his rebellious challenge against you, he leans in closer and keeps up the wall until you finally start to crack under the pressure. “Well…it’s nothing really.”

“Then, tell me.”

“It’s,” you begin then pause.

He hunches in closer as if to keep your secret.

“It’s just that…” he can see you start to fidget in your chair, and for some reason, he feels his own anticipation growing. “You have a really pretty way about you.”

That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Huh? I have…a pretty way about me?” he repeats in disbelief, his face scrunching. “You must be joking.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “It’s something in the way you move, it makes it hard to concentrate.”

Megumi could only guess what kind of answer you would have but it wasn’t one that instantly makes his temperature skyrocket and causes his heart to start swelling against his ribcage, spreading the feeling of liquid butterflies through his veins.

“That's the only reason,” you repeat, noticing the way he seemed to completely stop functioning. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

He uncrosses his arms, trying to sputter out a coherent sentence but his mind wouldn’t supply him with one as he fights to keep his own blushing down. “No. I’m not—it’s not that I’m—I just didn’t know what it was about—I—pretty?” he stammers, completely bewildered to the point he thinks his voice might crack for the first time in years.

You nod, growing more embarrassed. “I mean in a masculine way! Like your eyes, your hands, your voice, and the way your shirt drapes your shoulders. Ah! Basically…you’re really handsome,” you finish quickly when you realize you are rambling stupidly, and you squeeze onto the edge of your chair to calm yourself.

It’s so quiet between the two of you that you could possibly hear one of the cheap plastic straws from the front counter drop.

“Fushiguro-kun?” you ask bashfully.

He focuses his attention on the passerby's walking by the window as he shifts and squeezes at his uniform collar, attempting desperately to hide a fraction of his burning face behind the dark blue fabric. You…were simply attracted to him for some reason he would probably never understand (why in the world would you think any of that about him is attractive?) all this time.

“Let’s pretend this conversation never happened,” he tells you frantically.

Nodding, you confirm. “Yeah! That’s a good idea.”

For once, you’re not staring at him yet Megumi still feels like he can’t breathe despite the rapid rising and falling of his chest showing that he was very well breathing. As his face continues to burn and his stomach churns with this unfamiliarly pleasant and confusing emotion, he wishes his shadow would open and swallow him whole. Forever, perhaps.

It isn’t until later that night when his mind is heavy with thoughts of you, he admits to himself that he doesn’t exactly hate your reason.

Bonus

Before you enrolled in this school, your clan already outlined your priorities in life. Study, learn, become the best sorcerer you can for the benefit of the clan and your own survival. There isn’t time for things like friendship and even less for love, your family taught you, at least not until you’re older.

You agreed with that sentiment, going through your younger teen years not ever having a crush on someone or a strong preoccupation with romance. However, this school is proving that you still very much feel attraction.

Specifically for your withdrawn classmate.

Something about him was just so pretty. You’re not sure if it was the way his hair falls ever so neatly over his forehead before turning back into spiked peaks, or how deep blue his eyes are especially when shadowed by gorgeous rows of midnight eyelashes, or the way he carried himself like the stoic protagonists in the love comics your friends were obsessed with last year.

Maybe it was the entire package.

At the time you first started to notice him, you didn’t have the answer pieced together yet. Seeing that you also hadn’t learned anything proper about romance and attraction from your clan let alone flirting, the only thing you could do was stare at him as you failed to decipher this newfound infatuation that made your heart stutter and your lower body hot with tingles similar to the sensation of ginger spice on your tongue.

‘Is this that puberty thing they were talking about in health class all those years back,’ you wondered. They did say it could happen late, but this late? You weren’t sure, but you did like looking at him. That much was certain.

So, you continued to do so.

It's not like you were exactly going against what your clan told you.

After all, your clan would always say it’s important to be aware of your surroundings as a sorcerer, remember every little detail, and save it to memory, that could be the difference between death and victory in a battle.

Shouldn’t you take that advice to heart when it comes to your teammates as well? After all, these are the people you will be relying on while working. It’s important to learn their mannerisms.

Another thing your clan told you was that hands are an important thing to watch. Any sorcerers’ hands were a danger from Itadori’s hand-to-hand combat style, Gojo-sensei’s domain expansion, and Fushiguro’s entire technique.

His hands were always coming together to summon shadows, and he talked and explained things frequently with them to the point it became a distraction for you.

You also like the way his dominant hand always seems to climb up and curve around the back of his neck in the mornings as he stretches out the tightness from a cramped sleep. You would watch as he glosses each finger across his nape and shoulder, wondering what it would be like to have them coming across your own and to have fingers that could expertly craft signs tickling at your skin. Would you shudder or would it tickle or would it feel like nothing? Fortunately, you always resist the shaking urge to glide your own hand across your collar to find the answer.

It isn’t always the way his palm brushes his neck that entirely gets you but the way his sweatshirt rises, barely revealing a ring of beige skin that was normally hidden away under layers of comfortable cotton. It not only exposes him to the stagnant air of the school building but to your wandering eyes that had a bad problem of not being able to remain where they should be.

Objectively speaking, you were aware from day one that Itadori was strong and well-built under his clothes, but you didn’t realize the same could be said for Megumi until you saw the slip of his lower abdominal and the constellation of pale brown freckles hidden in the groove of his hip.

By the time your attention would return to his hands, you would be locked on the gentle way his knuckle catches the edge of his shirt's neckline. It was unknowing to him during those times that the action was teasing you by causing the fabric to lightly shift and expose the crux of his collarbone.

Then, you didn’t even want to get started on his face or eyes. The same ones that are gorgeously blue even when stormy with annoyance or softened with confusion every time he would catch you.

From your point of view, you admit that both looks were handsome on his face. However, you’re starting to realize from your last interaction that maybe you were being a tad…invasive. You refused to say creepy without a pillow to scream into.

So, you convince yourself to stop staring whenever you notice your eyes drifting to him. Only small peeks for his comfort unless you were talking to him or he to you. In hindsight, you think you are better at talking to him without embarrassing yourself all the time at least.

Your new resolve would be tested today as you prepare to head to the training field for another day of close combat drills with your upperclassmen. You dress in layers, wearing a light jacket and thigh socks with your shorts, fully intending to ditch both once it heats up a little more in the afternoon.

When you make it to the practice field, you notice two things: that Megumi is there (which you swear you only took note of for two seconds) and that you’re the last to arrive, meaning that you’re going to be the first put through the wringer with Maki-senpai.

The only positive is that you manage to last an extra round against her more than usual, and you’re left with only an aching butt as you hit the ground. You hiss and rub your wounded rear before dusting the ripped-up blades of grass from your lap. Noticing your socks bunched against your ankles, you click your tongue. Bending your legs, you start to shuffle one back up the length of your calf then your thigh. You unfurl it as high as you can until there’s only a small circumference of skin left between your shorts and the top of your sock. Satisfied, you start to repeat the process with your other leg before Maki taps your hip with her staff.

“Megumi is staring at you,” she grunts in a quiet warning, and you blink at her before trying to glance back over to the first row of bleachers. “Not too obvious.”

You force your gaze back to her, using the opportunity to catch Megumi in your periphery. Sure enough, you could barely make him out looking in your direction while Itadori talked to him. That was weird. You don't think you can recall a time where he was watching you unless you did it first. ‘He was probably watching me train,’ you begin to decide.

Before you can register what's going on completely, Maki calls out dryly, "Hey, Megumi, pictures last longer!”

Barely from this distance, you can see his head snap back and a scowl glowering on his face as he glares at her direction. “What are you talking about?”

“So, you want to play that way,” she mumbles and singles him out with a point of her staff and a crooked smile. “In that case, I’ll explain while we train!”

Megumi looks more annoyed than you have seen him in the last few days as he declares from the bleachers that he’s training with Panda instead as soon as he’s done with Nobara.

“That guy,” Maki grumbles quietly, slapping her staff back against her shoulder and layering a hand on her hip. “He makes things so difficult for everyone, including himself. I guess I’ll have to have a chat with him later.”

"Huh?" you huff as she twists her waist to look at you.

“Well, I can’t exactly have my darling little relative turning out like the rest of those perverts from the clan, after all,” she explains vaguely but instead of anger, there’s a rare hint of sarcastic amusement in her words. Suddenly, it starts to dawn on you what Maki means as your fingers brush the side of your inner thigh, and your throat starts to tighten with something akin to anxiety, and you want desperately to bury your face in your hands as you realize that he was looking at your legs. That he must like your legs…

The thought makes your heart pound, and something pulses inside you with what feels like anticipation as you catch his attention on you again. You were used to lusting after him but it was a different feeling to experience it in reverse – mutually even.

Is this what it felt like? Have you ever made him feel like this by watching him?

You didn’t know what to do.

“What do I do?”

She gives an incredulous look. “Call him out naturally, especially if it bothers you,” she replies. "But that isn't what you want, right?"

You frown, not entirely sure yourself. It didn’t bother you necessarily. If anything, you like his attention on you. It makes your body otherworldly hot when he gives it to you. Pulling your knees to your chest, you think back to what someone in one of those television dramas would do in this situation. It takes some courage, but you find your answer.

You wink at him.

It elicits an immediate response that involves him shoving his hands in his pockets and scrambling to break eye contact; so much that you can see Itadori twisting towards him with concern.

“Hah, that was a good one." Maki lets out a short and harsh snort. "Wait until I tell Panda.”

Smiling proudly, you can’t resist staring at the flush that he has to stand and stalk off to the other side of the field closer to Inumaki and Panda to hide. Out of all the attractive things about him, you think that might top your list; and truthfully, you wanted to see it again.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x you #fem!reader #jjk fluff

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che444 · 8 months

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In order to change them, you must change YOU.

(Long post)

I have manifested many people back into my life: SPs , old friends, family member, people I wanted to be friends with but didn’t have the courage to ask to be friends. Literally anyone. But before I could invite them into my life, I had to go within.

When you’re manifesting someone, you must not only drop your old story but theirs as well. This was hard for me to understand at first because I had very strong negative emotions towards some people for what they did, and I chained them to those cinder blocks of mistakes and viewed them in that light forever.

I am one to hold a grudge, and sometimes they do some bs that makes them deserve it! You’re valid!

However, if you want a person back in your life under better circumstance you must remember several important things:

everything happens through you:

I am not blaming you for their behavior but what you must realize is that they have no choice but to continue to be the way that you ultimately view them. If you think your SP doesn’t want you, they will continue to not want you, because you are consumed in that thought and they only reflect you, you are god and they are your creation.

Process how they made you feel:

You’re never just going to let something go, sometimes people will hurt you, but in order to change the story surrounding them and how you view them you must process your feelings towards them. Write it down, talk to a close friend, whatever works for you.

You may come out of this not wanting them in your life and that is perfectly okay, you may decide you no longer want them and you want someone better and that’s okay! Manifest it baby!

Allow them to evolve and/or Allow yourself to have the version of them you want

If you want to access this new and improved version of them you must allow it to come in or it simply will not.

What I like to do is take myself out of the position of being the person who experienced them, and look at the raw emotions of it all, as God. I am not a religious person, however looking back on when I grew up Christian it definitely offered some interesting points that I believe helped in my journey.

If you are god and all your creation is made in your image, take a second to consider it you have ever done anything that may have caused hurt. Have you ever done anything that hurt someone? Have you ever related to feelings of jealousy or got really angry at someone? Most likely. Have you been forgiven and in turn changed to be better? There are many people who may still view you as the villain in their story but you have forgiven yourself and became anew, they could never put that on you now because of who you have evolved to become, right? Well, give this person a chance to evolve. You are the one writing the story, are you going to continue to make them the big bad wolf or are you going to let them be the knight in shining armor.

Now if this is about you not believing you deserve it, you need to start there. Why do you believe you are not worthy of your creation? Why do you believe you cannot have them or that they don’t want to be in your life? It may be that you don’t believe in love, or that you don’t believe you are worthy. Work on self concept and understand that you are everything and therefore everything is yours. From the trees to the moon, you are everything.

You can get a completely different version of them, you can completely revise an argument away, you could literally make them disappear. You can do anything! It’s your world.

Most importantly: LEAVE THE 3D ALONE

Sweetheart, if you are still maintaining the state that they hate you after saying affirmations for a day then immediately trying to text them, STOP. Start within, and the 3D has no choice but to follow. If you want to make up with them, go within, set the scene of making up with them in your head, say your affirmations, or whatever will give you the feeling that you seek. Once you reach that fulfillment within yourself, they have no choice but to reflect. Let them be who you want them to be, stop holding the old story over both of you, release it, and write a new story. Have faith in your story and have faith in you, and you will receive exactly what you want. Don’t worry about time, worry about you, time isn’t god, you are love.

P.S - don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t manifest a better version of your ex or a person. You are god, why would you let anyone tell YOU what to do? Be fr.

Luv, che 🌺

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #self concept #manifestation #desired reality #manifest #shifting motivation #shifting realities #loa

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teastainedprose · 3 months

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Hi !

Can you do a Homelander x F!Reader with a blackmail situation ?

For the context, someone's blackmailing Reader to leave Homelander and because of the stress she did it when he was patrolling. Of course, Homelander wouldn't accept it and try to find her but he can't. So a few days later Vought brought him a new "girlfriend" to heal the pain Reader "created" only for them to (by mistake) imply that they are responsible for the departure of Reader. After dealing with the situation at Vought, he went looking for her again, eventually finding her at her favorite spot, where she was trying to forget Homelander.

You can change some parts if you want 😁

Thanks you if you do it ♥️❤️

Listen, Anon. LISTEN! I am grabbing you by the shoulders, I am gently shaking you, I am lovingly cupping your cheek and whispering, "Write the fic." - because it's clear that you've got the plot and I bet you've been daydreaming up the story route and I need you to write it. Spit out some bullet points. Scribble out a few scenes out of order, but write it!!

As I read this ask while rolling out of bed half awake and ran off in a slightly different direction while I brainstormed in the shower and I know you've got an idea there so WRITE IT!! So I can read it

Now have something similar, but not quite what you outlined. This kinda evolved into a companion/epilogue?? piece to Play With Fire, as Vought would have plenty of reason to not want Homelander dating a canned employee, especially if she's a fat little thing. Bad for the brand and all.

+1.5k words | Warning for violence/gore, Homelander can have a little murder. As a treat. Plus-Sized female reader, established relationship, no proofreading as I was possessed

The moment his boots drop onto the balcony and Homelander strides into the penthouse, he knows something is wrong.

First, there is the absence of you. Not just the lack of your body settled on the couch waiting for him as you often are, but everything you touched. The laptop you diligently type away at while working is gone. The vibrant throw pillows you insisted on getting to make the imposing couch more inviting are missing. The plush blanket you always coiled yourself into wasn't haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch as it always is when not in service. The lack of these items now makes the couch look barren and cold. Now Homelander can see how uninviting the whole thing looks.

There are other pieces of you missing as well. The trinkets and baubles you'd purchased on a whim and set about the penthouse, coloring the space with pieces of you. The discarded books, many with notes and dog-eared pages weren't haphazardly stuffed in strange places. Homelander would check the bedroom, but he knows the closet now has an empty space where your clothing hung.

There's a buzz starting up in his brain, an insistent worry that's setting his teeth on edge as Homelander's mind races across every possible reason why you're gone. You left him. Someone kidnapped you. You finally got tired of him. Someone stole you away. You hate him. Someone is hurting you. The buzzing grows in volume as Homelander's lip twitches up, feet taking him to pace across the floor before a movement in the corner of his eye cuts straight through the noise.

The buzzing goes silent. The colors are correct. Relief rushes over Homelander as he turns to face the figure in full. You, there you are and-

No. Homelander blinks, drawing back a step as he takes in the woman standing at the entrance of his penthouse. She has your hair color; the cut has been styled like yours, but the texture is off. She's got something close to your complexion, your eye color even, and she's wearing clothing in your usual manner of dress, but everything is wrong. For one, she's thinner. Homelander sneers.

The woman smiles, uncertain as her heart races like a rabbit against her ribs. "Hi." One word uttered and it's all wrong. That's not your voice. That's not your smile. There is no sunshine breaking across this woman's face as she looks at Homelander. Her expression is quiet and expectant, waiting. Anxious.

He inhales slowly, rolling his neck as Homelander clenches his fists at his side. The scent on the air is bitter. She's afraid. She should be.

"No, no, no. Who the fuck are you?" Homelander snaps out, across the room in two long strides and now she's gasping. Gasping because Homelander has his fingers about her throat, gloves creaking softly as his grip tightens and lifts her. "Who the fuck are you?" He repeats, barking the words out.

"I-I'm Vicky," She stammers out as Homelander eases up enough to let her breath and set her feet back on the floor. That rabbit heart is trying to burst free within the woman's chest now, beating all the louder. "Y-your er, new girlfriend...?" Her words end in a panicked squeak as the woman tries to shrink away.

"New- "Homelander cuts off as he stares at her, head tilted to the side and lip twitching as he digests this bit of information. He swallows and takes in a breath, reeling in his rage as his mind whirls. Vought had decided to replace you. Plucked up some stupid woman who only shares a similar color palette with you, but she isn't you. This woman is nowhere close to the beautiful creature you are.

Vought didn't approve of your secret relationship. They'd deemed you unmarketable. Not the image they wanted to project for the brand. Then there was the hope that Homelander would grow bored of you. To wait out his hyper-fixation on you. The months had crawled by and still Homelander kept you close. You'd moved in, burrowed yourself right into his life as Homelander wanted.

For some fucking stupid reason, Vought thought a replacement would distract him. As if he's a child, or a dumb dog they've swapped a toy out on.

"Vicky," Homelander smiles and it's the smile of a shark. All teeth and dead eyes. "How lovely," A purr now as Homelander slides his hand down her neck and brushes his thumb over her collarbone. Her smile is uncertain, but it's still there as she relaxes. The rabbit in her chest calms down. He digs his thumb in as Homelander sucks on his teeth.

Fucking idiot.

There's no warning when Homelander's fist buries itself into the woman's abdomen, only a wheezing hiss as the air is forced out of her. A wet sound follows under all that crunching and grinding of bone as Homelander twists his fist and pulls it back. He clicks his tongue, releasing the woman's corpse to topple across the floor.

Homelander exhales, puffing out his cheeks while looking down at his fist in mild disgust. The red leather hides fresh blood well, but he knows it'll congeal into a darker mess soon enough. Leaning over, he absently wipes it off on the fabric of the woman's sunshine colored dress. The sunshine would look better on you while the smeared red looks better on Vicky as far as Homelander is concerned.

It doesn’t take him long to hunt Ashley down, storming into her office with eyes flashing red. The only reason Homelander doesn’t fucking laser her in two is because she’s crying. Ashley is crying and blowing her nose into a tissue as she looks at Homelander, eyes filled with regret and tears. She’s grown fond of you, Homelander realizes and that’s reason enough not to cave her skull in. Homelander knows you like her well enough, too. Ashley blubbers the story out. They’d wanted you gone. Out of the picture and out of his life. You were an uncontrollable variable that refused to play ball and Edgar wasn’t one for loose strings. A replacement had already been found and was on her way earlier this morning. While Homelander was out on a mission, disposing of you had been easy enough. It only took thirty minutes to pack all of your things, revoke your access to the building and effectively lock you out. Ashley had managed a helping hand in the form of a plane ticket wherever you wished, knowing you no longer rented your own apartment after moving in with Homelander.

It had been a plot against you, he knows this now but why had you gone so willingly? Why weren’t you screaming outside of Vought Tower for him? Why did you take that plane ticket? Something rotten wriggles within Homelander’s heart. He knows he’s not an easy creature to live with and has worn your patience thin some days. The start of your relationship would have been considered rocky at best and there’s all that stalking he did that you still don’t know about. They gave you an out and you took it.

His trip to the airport is swift and no one would dare try to stop the Homelander as he seeks you out at your intended gate. Except you’re not there. You’ve not even checked in yet. He goes to your old apartment next, eyes scanning the building for your form. Your favorite restaurant is next. Then the place that makes your favorite tea. After that he’s hovering above the bookstore you’ve dragged him to. None of them contain you. Homelander is lost for a moment, mind frantic with worry now at where you could be. Then he remembers one of your favorite spots. A park close to where your old apartment is and it’s another place Homelander has been dragged to by you. This is a spot he enjoyed. It was quiet, even in such a bustling city. He always pretended it was a forest clearing you two were enjoying the peace of.

You’re there. Of course you are. You’re settled on a bench, head turned towards the trees as Homelander descends. “Sweetheart,” He growls. It comes out harsher than Homelander wants, but he’s on edge. Why did you leave him?

You jump, head snapping round and he can see you’ve been crying. Your eyes are puffy, face pinched in pain as Homelander’s heart seizes at the sight.

“What!?” You stare a beat, before anger rises. You’ve always been his little spitfire. “You had me cast out! They packed me up and kicked me out on your orders! You- You abandoned me…!” The fire smolders and dies as tears leak down your face.

"No, no, no. Not you, never you!" In an instant, all of Homelander's rage vanishes in the face of your sorrow. How could you ever want to leave his side? Foolish of him to even think it. Why would you ever want to leave? He’s beside you, he’s gathering you up in his arms, he’s crushing you gently in his hold. Your sobs are wet, loud, and there’s snot on his suit. Homelander doesn’t care. He shushes you, fingers combing through your hair as the arm about your middle squeezes just a bit tighter. The weight of you sinking against him and into him is a comfort, your flesh yielding under his grip on you.

“I came home and you were gone,” Homelander whispers against your ear as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. He inhales deeply, all of the tension leaving his body as he takes in your scent. “But I’m here now. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He exhales, pulling back enough to look down at you. Homelander smiles. You’re here, you’re safe, he will never ever let you out of his sight again.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #homelander writing #homelander x you #homelander x f!reader #homelander x plus sized reader #canon x you #🍵 play with fire #Yandere Homelander is my fav Homelander #you're never allowed to leave #ANON WRITE THE FIC #anon ask #ask #FUCK I DIDNT EVEN WRITE THE BLACKMAIL PART #ANON I NEED YOU TO WRITE THAT FIC SO I CAN READ IT #task failed successfully??

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thirdsaltyhunter · 8 months

Text

Fight for Love

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing

Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)

A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.

You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library, to let you fight it out in the map room.

This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.

You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.

"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you.", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table.

"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"

"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp."

"Well it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.

"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.

"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.

At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.

"Because I love you!", you responded, voice louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure dread and regret.

You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.

You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker, or things becoming awkward and you losing your closest friends.

You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.

"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.

After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.

_____

Dean's POV

Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.

"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?"

"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.

"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."

"How?"

The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."

_____

Your POV

You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Fuck. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.

Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.

"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.

"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him. You really didn't want to hear some "it's not you it's me" speech.

"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.

"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.

"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.

"Hey, no one's kicking you out." He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me."

"Please don't kick me out." You knew that was an irrational fear to have and Dean would probably never do that to you, but the weight of your insecurity was heavy on your mind.

He was taken aback by your words but his heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.

His voice sounded so gentle but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.

"I love you too." Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

"Y-you love me?" you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.

Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to," he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.

"Have for a long time sweetheart, how could I not." He could still tell you didn't believe him so he leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. It felt like you were going to combust and he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you.

"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer."

A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car," he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.

You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.

_____

Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?" you asked.

"Not really. It did at first." he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry, I know it was a stupid move."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."

Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.

He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."

"Fine," you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy," you greeted.

"Oh h-hey!" he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."

"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."

"Ok good," he said with a hint of relief.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket. "I guess we should head back." You didn't want to break this moment, almost fearing that what had happened between you two would disappear when you left the safety of the car.

He nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.

Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.

"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight," he pleaded.

"Ok," you breathed, relieved that the moment still wasn't ending.

You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.

Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"

You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x gn!reader

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isa-beenme · 10 months

Note

Hello!! Do you think you could right a sort of enemies to lovers relationship with Azriel? Maybe where he and the reader get into a heated argument, and the bond snaps when the tension hits its peak? If this doesn’t inspire you, please don’t feel as though you have to accept my request! This is my first attempt at making a request, so I apologize if I did it incorrectly. Also, I wanted to note that your writing style is one of my favorites, and I hope you are proud of your work! That’s all, thank you for your time!!

THE SOOOOOOOOOONG

Listen to it please thank you

Loved your request, darling, it's actually much better when you send the whole story, I usually struggle when I try to think of a whole story alone (I swear I'm creative but it's hard to get things in your head out of nothing)

I try to be proud of my work as much as I can, thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

THIS WORK was sooooooo fun to do, I swear at some moment while I was writing this I laughed at my own story, super cool

I thought: "I'm gonna make this super serious" amd ended up with this, which is much better

This Is Love

Your family always meant everything to you. Being Rhysand's cousin meant you would be inserted in everything he did. Being his second in command meant you would be involved in every plan. And being all of that meant you would be part of his Inner Circle, which automatically involved you in everything they did together. From training, to family dinner and trips around the Courts for the meetings, you did all together. And you loved it. Again, your family meant everything to you, and spending time with them was on your top list of favorite things to do. I mean, when a certain Shadowsinger wasn't completely involved.

Working with Azriel was always fine, perfectly fine, actually. Rhysand often paired you up together to work because everything fell into place with the two of you. Your mind always seemed to think like one. But that teamwork only made itself present when the topic was your position towards the court and your job. Outside that, you both were a mess. Training with him was a dread, from him pinpointing each - non-existent - mistake, to you lashing yourself on him each time he made you angry, it's been more than 250 years of both of you trying to win one another in the training. It never happened.

Family dinner was also horrible since both of you had very different visions in every single topic someone started, not just that, somehow, no matter how many times you and Azriel changed seats with someone, it doesn't take a week until you find yourselves seated next to each other again. On top of that, you and he possess the ability to winnow, yet, Rhysand always thought it was necessary for you to winnow together. No matter how many times you said it wasn't necessary, Rhys only ignored you, the necessity of traveling with him making you hate your life just a little bit more.

But if spending time with your family was on your top favorite things to do, game night with Azriel was on your top things to make yourself miserable. It was a common scene for the rest of the Inner Circle to see you and him screaming at each other at some point. Sometimes one of you thought the other was cheating. Sometimes you started saying the other was winning too many times and should be taken out of the game. Sometimes it was the complete opposite, "if you lose so much, maybe you should step back and stop occupying space". Tonight it wasn't different, your favorite fight was ready to start as Azriel explained the rules to the new game.

Besides the usual crackling tension between you and Azriel, this night seemed to be at its worst peak. For weeks now, both of you seemed to be on the edge with one another, even in work, your usual camaraderie was replaced with sharp remarks and piercing glares. Everyone around the table exchanged puzzled looks, uncertain of what exactly had caused this escalating feud.

Azriel couldn't understand why every word from you grated on his nerves, nor could you fathom why Azriel's mere presence felt suffocating. The build-up of unresolved emotions and unspoken desires had been simmering for days, and now, it was about to reach its boiling point.

The Night Court's game night had started off innocently enough with your usual truth or drink game, something to light up tension (or build it, in your and Azriel's case), but as the evening wore on, the tension between you and Azriel became palpable as the Shadowsinger tried to introduce a new idea to the table. It began with a harmless disagreement over the rules of a card game, but it quickly escalated into a heated argument once the match started.

Azriel's patience was wearing thin as you challenged every decision he made during the game, the cards he dropped and the ones he chose, everything seemed horrible in your eyes. The other way around too, your matches weren't valid, you couldn't pick certain cards and no, it wasn't your turn yet. His usually calm demeanor was now strained, and he couldn't help but feel irritated by your persistent need to question him.

-I don't understand why you always have to question everything I do - Azriel snapped at some point, his shadows flickering around him as a testament to his growing frustration.

-Maybe if you didn't act like you knew everything, I wouldn't have to. "Boo, I'm Azriel and I don't let people play the game because I invented it and none of you understand how to play it" - You quickly shot back, their voice laced with sarcasm

The room fell silent, and your friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the mounting tension between the two of you. But there was no going back now; the floodgates had opened, and all the pent-up emotions were rushing to the surface.

-I don't act like I know everything, and I don't talk like that - Azriel retorted, his voice tight with anger - I just wish you'd stop acting like you have all the answers! Sometimes it is okay to listen to help because, guess what? I indeed invented the game and there's no way of you learning how to play it, if you don't listen to the rules!

-Well, forgive me for not blindly following you like everyone else. I'm not afraid to question things when they don't make sense! - Your eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as you shot back.

-And I'm not afraid to take action instead of endlessly debating every damn decision! - Azriel's temper flared, his wings twitching in agitation.

-I think what you're really good at is fucking my life! - Your family gasped at your words, shocked by the intensity.

-It's just a payback for every headache you give me every time you breathe near me - They quickly turned their heads to Azriel, equally shocked by his response.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed as if you were both about to explode. Your family exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to intervene in the escalating argument. But just as the situation reached its breaking point, a strange shift occurred. As Azriel locked eyes with you, an unexpected intensity replaced your anger. It was as if the universe itself had decided to step in, forcing you to confront the undeniable truth.

The room seemed to blur around you as you stood there, chests heaving from the heated exchange. The fight had reached its peak, and in that very moment, the mating bond snapped into place. The sudden connection was overwhelming, a rush of emotions and sensations that neither of you could comprehend. Your anger dissolved into confusion and shock as you felt an unexplainable pull towards each other.

Azriel's wings, once tense and defensive, now softened, as if beckoning every step you unknowingly took closer. Your guard came down as well, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and curiosity.

Your friends watched in astonishment as two adversaries stood there, seemingly lost in a world of their own. The room is filled with a charged silence, the kind that accompanies a revelation that changes everything. Even if none of them knew exactly what revelation was going on at that moment.

But as the realization set in, Rhysand and Feyre exchanged knowing smiles. It was no secret for them that you and Azriel had an underlying connection, a bond waiting to be acknowledged. They had witnessed the chemistry and unspoken feelings simmering between the two of you, and now, it seemed the universe had decided to intervene.

Your eyes met Azriel's once again, and this time, there was no irritation or hostility. Instead, there was an undeniable spark of understanding and attraction, a recognition of the emotions that you had been hiding from each other. Neither of you spoke a word, yet you communicated on a deeper level, the mating bond solidifying your connection at each passing second. It was as if all the walls you had built around your heart came crashing down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to him.

As the reality of the mating bond settled in, your heart raced with confusion and fear. You couldn't understand why fate would choose someone you had built such animosity towards to be your mate. Feeling overwhelmed and unable to face the truth, you turned around and ran, needing time and space to process the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Azriel, though taken aback and hurt by the sudden rejection, couldn't ignore the pull of the bond drawing him to you. With determination, he chased after your steps, his heart heavy with worry and longing. He caught up to you as you were getting closer to your room. Gently reaching out to touch your shoulder, you recoiled as if his touch burned.

-Please, let's talk - Azriel pleaded, his voice tinged with sadness - I never wanted to hurt you. The fights... They were a defense mechanism, a way to hide my own feelings and protect myself from the pain of loving someone who seemed to hate me. You started this, I just… Thought I should defend myself.

-But why you? Why did it have to be you? - You whispered, voice breaking with emotion. Azriel's eyes softened, and he took a step closer, his hand hovering near your face, yearning for the connection you both feared and desired.

-I wish I had an answer for that. All I know is that the bond doesn't choose who we love, it just binds us to our other half. And for some inexplicable reason, it chose us - He could see the pain in your eyes and knew that he needed to be honest, to show vulnerability despite his fears of rejection - The truth is, the more you fought me, the more I fell for you. Your fire, your strength, everything about you drew me in. But I was terrified of what it meant, so I pushed you away.

-I didn't know what to do with my feelings either - You admitted, opening a place in your heart that you swear to never look at again - I tried to convince myself that I hated you, but it only made things worse. Every fight, every argument, it was just a way to hide how much I… I wanted to be by your side. Everything was simple with them but you? You made me feel things and I didn't want it - Azriel's heart ached at your words, and he took a step closer, finally touching your cheek gently.

-We can figure this out together. I don't want to fight anymore. I want to be here for you, to understand you, and for you to understand me - Tears finally spilled from your eyes, as you looked into Azriel's soulful gaze, feeling the sincerity of his words.

-It won't be easy, but maybe we can try - You gave in, hugging him tightly, filling the void in your soul that you ignored for so long.

You and Azriel knew that you had a journey ahead, to step down from the fights and finally accept the truth that maybe, just maybe, you both were meant to be. Even in disagreement you found a way to each other. Although you would definitely keep your provocations going and Azriel would stay at your feet for anything you did, that was your way of loving and for the first time you were fine knowing what tomorrow would bring.

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

[Post-Credit Scene]

The Inner Circle sat around the table, looking perplexed and bewildered after the explosive game night that had just taken place. None of them could quite wrap their heads around what had unfolded. Nestha glanced at Cassjan, who raised an eyebrow, silently communicating his own confusion. Feyre and Rhysand seemed to be the only ones who understood the situation, but none of them made a move to say something as they kept talking to each other in their minds.

-So, did anyone understand what just happened? I mean, they are usually weird around each other but… This weird? It's worrying - The general scratched his head and finally gathered the courage to say something.

-Beats me. The brute is right. But I have to admit, seeing them argue like that is always quite entertaining. It's the only reason I've been coming for the past centuries, honestly - Amren replied with a snarl, eyes rolling as she threw her cards on the table.

-Oh, for sure! It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of us every week. But I can't believe they just bolted like that. Do you think they're okay? - Mor inquired, a mix of amusement and worry kicking in.

-If I had to bet I would say they are killing each other - Cassian said, playing with the deck of cards.

-Or fucking - Nestha chimed in with a laugh - I mean, when I didn't accept the mating bond with Cassian I acted exactly like them. If you don't understand the feeling you might as well hurt the person you hold those feelings for - Everyone seemed to agree as the bets started to grow around the table.

-Knowing those two, they probably needed some time alone to sort things out. Maybe it's an understanding finally kicking in - Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief - The group exchanged curious glances, trying to understand their High Lord.

-Well, whatever it is, we can't say it was unimportant. That was probably the most explosive family game night we've ever had - Feyre couldn't help but add with a grin.

Just then, the door to the game room creaked open, and you walked in with Azriel by your side, hand in hand, with smiles on your faces. The Inner Circle's jaws dropped in disbelief as they took in the sight in front of them.

-What the...? How did you...? What? - Cassian sputtered, at a loss for words.

-You know, it's funny how things work out sometimes - Azriel looked around at their stunned faces and chuckled.

-Yeah, we had a little heart-to-heart and sorted some things out. Turns out, we had a lot of misunderstandings to clear up - You and Azriel smiled at each other, making the whole Inner Circle shocked.

-So, you two aren't going to be at each other's throats anymore? - Amren raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming.

-Oh, we definitely will - You said when you looked back at them, your head finding its way to Azriel's shoulder.

-Just not today - He said and kissed you head, hearing some gasps from the table.

-Are we witnessing a truce? - Mor whispered to the General, who just shuddered, as confused as her.

-Let's just say we have a newfound understanding of each other - Azriel replied, you and him sharing a knowing look.

-Well, that's a relief! We were starting to wonder if you two were going to start a war right here in the Night Court - Feyre laughed, reaching out for her mate's hand.

-Glad to see you've made up. Just... maybe tone it down during future game nights? - Rhysand smiled after clearly speaking mind to mind with the Shadowsinger.

-Okay, so… the rules of the game? - Nestha questioned, her cards still secured in her hands.

-It doesn't matter right now, you can choose it - Az said, making everyone turn their eyes to him. Shock covered every face in the room. Never, in their lives, do they think Azriel would give up on something. They turned their eyes to you, expecting some remark.

-Yeah, you guys can keep going - A wave of gasps and terrorized looks were exchanged between your family - I think Az might be hungry, aren't you?

-I might be. Will you make me something? - He asked, getting so close to you that your noses almost touched.

-It will be my pleasure - You said before dragging him towards the kitchen, not even noticing the mouths of the Inner Circle opened.

-Uh uh, no. I prefer the war. Tell them to come back and fight again, I don't like the way things worked - Mor leaned back in her chair, disbelief covering her posture.

-You know what? I think this interaction was more scary than the Cauldron - Amren said, finally giving up her cards as she threw them on the table.

-Come on, it can't be that bad, right? - All of the older members looked at Nestha with scared faces, even Rhysand, who knew exactly what happened between the two of you - Okay, apparently it is.

-What do we do now? - Feyre finally asked after silence filled the room.

-We hope that this Court doesn't crumble down - That was all that Rhysand said as he began separating the cards again, a whole new game starting that night.

#spotify #acotar #azriel × reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader

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princessshikky · 2 months

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Okay, this post has been a long time coming.

Basically, there is a huge amount of misconceptions about liujiu and their history, and it's very frustrating to see in arguments about canon, so. I'm here to clear Liu-shidi's reputation and browbeat SJ with a newspaper (affectionate).

There is a whooping total of 4 liujiu interaction scenes in SVSSS. In chronological order:

The first meeting occurs at an inter-peak competition, where SJ hates LQG at first glance. LQG wins a sparring and has an air of "matter-of-fact arrogance" about him, which only strengthens SJ's dislike. What's interesting is that next SJ ambushes LQG after the sparring and "uses every means" to attack him, as recounted by Yue Qingyuan. Which does nothing to endear SJ to LQG and makes LQG very understandaby wary of SJ.

The second meeting occurs in a brothel. Backstory: SJ stumbles upon a Baizhan disciple named Ji Jue on the street, they have a quarrel, SJ beats and seriously injures Ji Jue, then goes to a brothel. LQG hears about it and rushes to "teach SJ a lesson". Interestingly, nowhere in the text is it mentioned that SJ is injured in any way after his scuffle with LQG, even though the fight has apparently taken quite a while and LQG is a way better fighter than SJ.

The well mission. SJ, LQG and SQH are assigned to deal with some evil spirits in a remote village. Spirits fly out of an old well, one of them attempts to attack LQG from behind, SJ sees it and attacks the spirit, but accidentally brushes over LQG's shoulder, which LQG mistakes for an attempt to kill him. SQH tries to clear the misunderstanding, but SJ threatens him into silence. Again, LQG and SJ come to blows, but no injuries are mentioned.

The disciple acceptance ceremony. SJ and YQY are watching the potential recruits, LQG arrives, has a brief but civil conversation with YQY, SJ intervenes, LQG insults him and leaves.

That's it, folks! That's literally every liujiu interaction in canon! Now with this out of the way, let me disprove some of those fanons I see in liujiu fics every damn time I dare to open one.

LQG did not mistakenly believe SJ to be a son of a wealthy family. Nowhere in the book does LQG ever comment on SJ's origin. This is a fanon from "The Grand Unified Theory of Shen Qingqiu", which is a great fic, don't get me wrong, but god did it mess with people's perception!

In the same vein, LQG never accused SJ of being lazy. Ever. That was QQQ.

LQG wasn't unreasonable to immediately assume SJ was trying to kill him during the well assignment. Think of what LQG knows about SJ at this point: SJ is willing to ambush someone because of entirely stupid and petty reasons like a lost sparring; SJ is perfectly willing to seriously injure his fellow disciple (see: Ji Jue); SJ is constantly threatening to kill LQG (mentioned in the brothel scene); SJ is not above using dirty tricks to achieve his ends. Yes, the suspicion made SJ feel bad, which is perfectly understandable (poor SJ was just trying to help!), but it wasn't entirely baseless. LQG's conclusion was based on SJ's prior behavior.

Speaking of SJ's dirty tricks: no, when people mentioned SJ's penchant for dishonest means, they weren't talking about harmless tricks like qiankun buttons. SQH insinuates in canon that SJ wouldn't be above shanking LQG with a poisoned knife in the middle of a sparring (Airplane extra, when he watches LQG spar with SY!SQQ), and Ji Jue, someone who's fought SJ personally, seems to agree.

LQG did not condemn SJ's womanizing and/or his visits to the brothel. The only times when LQG comments on SQQ's private life in canon have to do with LBH and bingqiu. To put it simply: LQG did not give a damn about SJ allegedly spending time with sex workers. Nor did LQG constantly stalk SJ to try and catch him in a brothel. Nor did LQG ever lecture SJ about sex being bad for his cultivation (that was YQY, but no one ever remembers this bit).

Actually, it can be inferred that most of the time liujiu tried to ignore each other when forced to be in each other's presence. They only interact when they cannot avoid it/when SJ does (or seems to do) something so shitty LQG cannot ignore it. Or when SJ deliberately attracts LQG's attention.

Conversely, LQG did not constantly pursue SJ demanding a sparring with him. Not ever. I have no idea where this particular fanon stems from.

LQG did not gossip about SJ's private life. It is never mentioned in the book; however, it is said that several Baizhan disciples knew of SJ visiting a pleasure house. Any of them could've spread the rumour; or hell, it could've been someone else who saw SJ entering the place at a later date. Or the brothel workers may have shared the story with their other clients. It's never clearly stated, but there's no reason to believe LQG specifically was the one responsible for spreading this rumour. For one, YQY promises SJ that LQG would keep quiet about their skirmish. Also, it just isn't in character for LQG to gossip.

Just... every time people write liujiu, they go out of their way to completely erase SJ's shitty behavior, blaming all of the bad blood between them on LQG "misunderstanding" the poor innocent SJ. Oh, if only LQG knew the truth, he'd immediately recognise the error of his ways!.. Except no, actually, it's not how it is at all. And I'm so tired of the people constantly mistaking fanons for canon.

#the scum villain's self-saving system #svsss #liujiu #liu qingge #shen jiu

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bella-buggied · 1 year

Note

hey! please do a one shot where bella is mad at reader (for some reason you can create) and ignores her but then someone is being rude at the reader so bella ends up defending her and comforting her. <3

Thank you!!!

ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ғᴀɪʀ - ʙᴇʟʟᴀ ʀᴀᴍsᴇʏ

pairing: bella ramsey x actress!reader

warnings: slut shaming, misunderstandings

note: this is my first request!! i hope i do alright lol i'll try my best. they/them pronouns for bella. oh also, i made it set in the met gala because bella looked so good in there and i just thought it would be cool. this is around 2.5k words guys ho-ly

It wasn't like they were in the wrong. They weren't and you knew it. Bella knew you knew that too, they had very explicitly let you know with their yelling that day.

You were just too stubborn to admit you had made a mistake and Bella was too proud to settle down after a 'pathetic attempt of an apology' from your part. Typical of you two, always on and off.

And it was fine, if Bella wasn't up to having a civil conversation, you weren't going to explain things either. Bella could stay mad for as long as they wanted, and could ghost you and keep pretending to hate you, but you knew Bella couldn’t live without you.

Except this time it seemed different. Because Bella had stormed out your house and driven away only to not come back the next day, and now it had been a month since your argument and your fights never went on for longer than a week, and maybe— just maybe, it was over.

You were okay with that too.

It’s not like you were dependent on them. And you were still mad at them for their childish attitude during the argument. What kind of person walks away during a fight and leaves you with the words on your mouth? Bella, apparently.

Your life kept going as always, an argument wasn’t worth moping and you were in a very busy point in your career right now —you both were— you couldn’t just stop and be all depressed about it.

Sure, at nights like this where the only thing you could do was replay the fight on your head over and over again, you started to miss them and wish Bella could talk to you again because at the end of the day you had been at fault and you felt for them in a way. But you wouldn’t fold that easily, they had to apologize too for their reckless behavior.

And your fans seemed to have noticed, being in the middle of a press tour, they saw you very so often in interviews and they could tell that even though you seemed fine, the bags under your eyes weren’t just because of jet lag. Your usual posts on social media had diminished to almost zero in this whole month and a half, the only post you had made was just you promoting your latest movie with photos of you and the cast in behind the scenes.

Even the fans had noticed the lack of comments from Bella.

Before your argument, they’d comment on every post and would spam compliments at you, showing off the 'magnificent girlfriend' they had and being overprotective about you when other people complimented you.

The comment section under those pictures seemed empty without Bella’s witty words.

People were already talking. Had you two broken up? After seven long months of a very public relationship with very private ups and downs? Of course they didn’t know about those, they didn’t really know anything else about your very flawed relationship with Bella. They didn’t know anything, not about your mini breakups every now and then, and not about the fights that would normally end in apologies and giggles and making out.

But they knew something was going on this time, because this was more definitive. This could actually mean a real breakup.

And sure, you didn’t let it get to you, you had stuff to do. You couldn’t let something so personal impact on professional life. It was absolutely forbidden.

And yet they were catching up.

Rumors and articles about your breakup coming up and neither of you commenting about it. Just silently reading them and wondering whether the other agreed with the statement or not. Because neither of you knew if you two were actually broken up.

The night of The Met Gala you were very nervous as your stylist helped you with your outfit. You knew they were gonna be there too, and you didn’t know what to do.

Of course you wouldn’t run to them and forget about all of it. But being in the carpet separately could be the confirmation everyone else needed. The one you needed. Walking across that carpet alone knowing Bella was there too, also alone, meant finalizing your relationship to you and to the public.

You weren’t so sure you wanted that.

Of course you didn’t, you loved Bella, even with all the ups and downs, and their stubbornness and their pride. In a way that’s what you loved more about them, even if that was the thing separating you both right now. You couldn’t simply bring yourself to hate them.

Especially not when you know it was your mistake that started it all. That ended it all. That was a better way to put it.

But it wasn’t your fault, not completely at least. If Bella had only listened to your explanation —because you weren’t apologizing, you’d been explaining what happened— things would be so much different.

Maybe you’d be walking into the carpet hand in hand instead of all by yourselves.

You needed to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t worth it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, it was your first time being invited to the gala, and you wouldn’t let Bella and the memories ruin the fun.

It was Bella’s first time on The Met too, and you two were supposed to walk in together, sit together, and have fun together.

But past was past, and if tonight your relationship ended for real, headlines announcing your breakup and flashing lights and voices asking about you two, then that’s what it was meant to happen. And you’d try your best to smile through all of it.

With a sigh and giving a last look at yourself in the mirror, you were ready. You didn’t even realize when your hair and makeup team finished their job, but you looked great. You were wearing a pearl colored dress with tons of ruffles and your hair was up in a long braid falling over your shoulder. You actually loved it, with all the little details and the tons of pearls that adorned your hair.

The cat eyeliner was sharp and you loved it too, your makeup artist was great at always making you look good, even if you looked like shit, she always managed to cover your eye bags almost impeccably. You were super thankful for that.

When you walked out of the hotel and the flashing lights started, it was like everything that once perturbed you vanished into thin air, you did the switch from your personal self to your professional self nearly instantly and your smile grew as you made your way to the car that would take you there.

It didn’t matter now, besides, the Met was all about the drama and everything. The breakup would just feed into it more and you knew that would bring more attention to you. You couldn’t wait to be inside and see what happens on the other side of the carpet, where only the most influential people are allowed to go in. And this time you were included on the list.

The carpet looked huge when you stepped on it, and if your stylist wasn’t by your side you might’ve fainted right there. Sure, it was exciting, but also terrifying. What if you fell? What if you stepped on your dress?

And of course you had to arrive right after them. Your eyes immediately followed after Bella, like an instinctive reaction to their presence, two magnets pulling into each other. They were already halfway through. They looked great too, there was no point in denying it.

The lights came flashing you again, and you couldn’t hide your smile, posing and showing off your outfit that you were so proud of. Your nails were your favorite part of the outfit if you were honest, wine red, almond shaped nails that contrasted with the natural tones of the rest of your attire. It was a perfect match with your lips too, and you thought it was an amazing detail to add onto your whole look of the night.

You couldn’t really listen to everyone yelling at you to get a nice shot of you. People asking you to twirl and show off your nails, to look over your shoulder, and to blow kisses at the camera. That you could do.

You waved hello to the other celebrities and actors who waved at you, so excited to be there and be a part of this whole night. Everything was exciting, seeing your heroes walk beside you and acknowledging your presence felt like a dream.

Once you walked closer and deeper into the carpet, that’s when you started making out the words coming from the photographers and the presenters asking you questions about your outfit.

You gladly answered as best as you could, giving credit to every single person involved with it. “Of course, everything was his magnificent idea, he put everything together to make me look as good. I wouldn’t be anywhere without him, really.” You pointed at your stylist, who only laughed from afar and shook his head.

“Can you show us your braid? It is absolutely amazing!” The woman with the microphone gasped as you twirled around and gave them a better look at the hairstyle.

“Okay, the pearls were my idea, I do gotta admit that.” You giggled, once the love for the thing was shown.

“Wonderful!”

As you kept walking and you got closer to Bella, it seemed like they were going slower on purpose, you didn’t want to think about that. A photographer stopped you again, and of course you wanted to stay there for as long as Bella was inside the twenty feet radius of distance.

They were not on your side of the carpet, still a few feet away. You two were back against each other, and your mistake was turning to check them out for a second.

Then the comments from the press started to shift into the drama that you swore you didn’t care about. Except you did.

“Is it true you and Bella broke up?”

“How is single life going for you?”

“Is it true you cheated on her?”

“People say you’re a slut, how many people did you sleep with?”

A million different variations of the same question suddenly thrown at you, making you stumble on your feet and almost tripping with your heels. You looked around, ignoring the questions as you kept trying to keep your smile going.

Your stylist only smiled at you offering comfort and reminding you to breathe through your nose. You did that, and kept walking as the questions kept going.

How different it is when you’re actually confronted with all those thoughts you’ve been asking yourself in your head. Did you? Did you really cheat on them?

Of course not, it had been an accident, you perfectly knew it. You kept reminding yourself of that. He had kissed you, and you’d pushed him back as soon as it happened. No matter how hard you tried to explain it to them, Bella refused to listen.

It wasn’t your fault, and Bella was in their right to be mad, but the guilt still consumed you every night. Now with these questions, said out loud, you didn’t know if you could keep going.

You opened you eyes when you felt the hand on your hip, holding you tight. You gulped seeing who it was. Bella looked at you with deep eyes, full with sorrow and regret, as well as anger. You didn’t want to smile, not then. Not after everything.

Not when they left you like that.

But you did, and Bella smiled too, and their grip on your hip became only tighter as Bella stared at the cameras with defiance.

“What did you say shitheads?” They yelled, tilting their head and pursing their lips.

The questions stopped in an instant, and you didn’t know what to think. What was happening? Was Bella really holding you again? Defending you from all the harassment?

You felt like you were going to faint again, and so you rested your head on theirs, posing for the pictures because they weren’t stopping, and even with everything going on, it was still your job to look good.

“Are you alright?” they whispered into your ear, and you simply nodded, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at them again. “Let’s keep going.”

They slightly pushed you forward and so you two kept walking into the next little bundle of reporters who had appreciated the whole scene and kept whispering stuff to themselves. Bella only looked at them that same way and then they stopped.

Who would’ve thought a nineteen year old could hold so much power enough to leave shut a bunch of grown adults just with a look?

“Have anything nice to say? No? Well then you can stay shut like that.” Bella kept chewing on their gum like it was any other day, like you were together.

And then they did it. Bella grabbed your chin and posted a big old kiss on your lips, proving to everybody else and to you that no, you two weren’t broken up. And yes, you still belonged to them.

You still wanted that apology, even when you gave into the kiss. The flashes around you became louder and louder and the questions started once again, but now you couldn’t think of anything else that wasn’t how good their minty breath tasted after so long of being without it.

It felt like heaven, but you pulled apart to take a good look at them. Their black and pearly outfit perfectly matched the pearls embedded onto your dark hair and you wondered if it was a coincidence or you two were just that connected.

“Don’t think I’m forgiving you for just leaving like that.” you whispered with a faint smile on your face, shoving their shoulder away.

They stuck their tongue out to you and scrunched their nose in that way they knew you loved. “And I still don’t want to listen how you snogged your co-star.”

You widened your eyes and shook your head, knowing that they were teasing you now. You couldn’t believe it. “Bell— this time I’m gonna leave.”

But Bella only smiled wider and pulled you closer into another kiss. The only thing you could do was finally wrap your hands around their neck and melt into them.

You two were together again, and it would be rocky, like everything else in your relationship, but after this you felt like you could handle everything that came your way.

You knew that after this event you weren’t going to any after parties, you two had a lot of catching up to do, and a lot of apologies to say.

#bella ramsey #fanfic #bella ramsey x oc #bella ramsey blurb #bella ramsey fanfic #bella ramsey x reader #fanfic writing #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey x fem!reader #bella ramsey x y/n #ocs #tlou #the met gala #bella ramsey one shot #bella ramsey oneshot #buggie

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daechwitatamic · 10 days

Text

Vice;Grip || chapter 2 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!! //

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: depiction of a depressive episode, recreational drinking and bar scenes, allusion to oral (f. receiving), kissing, rough sex/man-handling, explicit penetrative sex, dirty talk, aftercare, didn't venture fully into writing dom!vernon but i have been informed i wrote something that might be in the realm of a dom drop, language obviously, reader is called a gendered slur by a stranger, law-breaking :), actual fluff for a second, allusions to drug use, car sex

wc: 6900

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

1 yr, 5 months ago

The onset of spring brought a lack of color. Grey clouds hung full and heavy, low over the city skyline. Grey crept into the corners of your apartment, darkening rooms during daytime so that you needed to keep lamps on even in midafternoon. Grey crept over your body, into your limbs. Days stretched and nights inched; you only got out of bed because you had to feed the damn cat.

That's part of why you'd gotten the cat in the first place, after a particularly long episode a few years ago, when Chan had presented you with a list of things he thought you should do to combat the blues, as he'd put it.

He meant well. But he always came at your depression like a problem solver, like just doing the right things could make it go away.

And sure, his suggestions were things that would help - get outside, call someone, don't isolate, shower even if you aren't leaving the house, drink some damn water - they weren't a cure. They were better reminders for when you were okay - good at keeping you okay for longer stretches. But when it was already too late, when the grey came, they all sounded fucking pointless.

Anyway. The cat had been a good idea.

is it bad??

Chan did his best. He was a good best friend. He just didn't understand it.

The answer to his question, you thought, as you flipped your phone over so you wouldn't see the notification if he followed up, was yes. Yes, this time was particularly bad. But you didn't have the energy to type those three words.

Terrible friend, your brain accused, and it was right.

You managed to drag yourself to work, to at least show up so you could continue to pay for your apartment and your damn cat, but not much else. You existed on cans of diet coke and microwave meals. You doom-scrolled until sunrise, then slept an hour or two at most before getting dressed for work. You left texts unanswered, the mail piled up. So did the dishes.

Chan came by, once, did your dishes for you. It made you feel worse - useless and pitiable. You'd rather he just go away, but you held it in; you knew that would only hurt his feelings.

You learned from your mistakes, one thing that could be said in your favor.

“Have you called your doctor?” he wanted to know.

What was the point? There wasn't a stop hating your life pill.

“What if you tried painting?” he asked.

“What if you just let me be?” you countered, finally tripping over the line from embarrassed apathy to defensiveness.

That pout again. “It might help,” he said. “Don't most famous artists do their best shit when they're down?”

“Get out,” you deadpanned. He dropped it, knowing this was a bigger issue, a bigger argument, than this current episode, a complex situation that went beyond the boundaries of your brain chemistry.

He put the last of your now-clean plates away. “Let's go somewhere,” he suggested.

“Chan,” you groaned. “I’m tired. I can't go gallivanting -”

“You're not tired, you're depressed,” he argued. “And going outside will help you.”

“I might have to kill you,” you said seriously, and he rolled his eyes.

In the end, he let you win. He'd been around long enough to know that eventually you'd venture outside again, hit the bars with him again, text first again, laugh at his stupid memes again. It was just a waiting game.

Still, when he left, you sat on the edge of your couch with your chin in your hands. On the living room rug, the cat rolled and showed you its belly.

“Not you, too,” you groused.

The cat did a few alligator rolls and then scampered into your bedroom and under the bed, as if chased.

You sighed. You made your way to the spare room, which had been shut - to keep the cat out. To keep your ghosts in.

Your easel was still set up in the corner. You were kind of surprised it wasn't covered in cobwebs. You'd been sketching just on paper last time you'd worked, trying to make decisions that way so you wouldn't waste a canvas, and it still sat there.

You inched closer, ran your hands over your brushes. Took a step back, eyed the paper and your sketches.

It was bad. Thank god you hadn't put it to canvas.

You pulled the paper down, crumpled it in your hands. You chased the cat out with a gentle nudge of your foot, and closed the door again, keeping both cats and ghosts on their respective sides of the door.

There was no rhyme or reason to your brain, no map or calendar to follow for the starts or stops. But eventually, the clouds broke. The grey gave way to baby buds of green, yellows pushed through soil, determined to meet the sun.

You texted Chan - drinks??

He responded - about time!!!

You texted Vernon - hello, its me

When he didn't answer, you tried again - sorry for the radio silence.

Still nothing.

You checked his socials, saw that he'd been doing his thing - a smattering of selfies, some group shots with the guys he played music with sometimes, a few nature shots: the moon, once, and what looked like the river at night.

The silence stretched. You gave up, considered it over. Grieved a little, because it had been good.

You went out on a night that teased summer even though it was months away, sank into the familiar blur of too many shots - not enough to be a problem, but maybe enough to make problems.

Under the club's ever-moving lights, you took a selfie, your drink and cleavage both showcased in the shot.

Send it to Vernon, the urge to make trouble suggested, and you listened without hesitation.

And - finally - an answer.

come here after??

You smiled a tiny, victorious smile and knocked back the rest of your drink.

omw.

Later, he gave you a rare and devastating pout as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothed fingers down the still-shaking inside of your thigh.

“What'd you make me wait so long for?” he complained, those sharp eyes sparkling with mirth. When you shrugged, still a little mindless from your high, he gave the same spot on your thigh a playful slap. “Don't do it again.”

1 yr, 4 months ago

busy tonight?

not busy but.

???

not in the best mood.

bet i could fix that.

yeah. idk.

why don't you let me try?

“What's wrong?” you cooed, teasing, when Vernon let you into the apartment.

He didn't smile, didn't play along, and it sobered you quickly.

“Don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, crowding into your space. “Wasn't that big of a deal anyway.”

Just want the fix you promised, he thought.

You moaned like liquid gold when his first kiss was a bite. Encouraged, Vernon gripped you by the shoulders, pushing you back against the wall hard enough that he heard your breath escape in a single huff. He hesitated, eyes searching your face; a question.

You lifted your chin, eyes shining with something hard. When he kissed you again, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him hiss; an answer.

His pace was frenzied from the start, your legs around his waist and the wall holding you up. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing, but sliding up to grip at your jaw instead, keeping you from tilting your head back, closing your eyes, losing yourself in how he felt slamming his hips flush against yours with dizzying smacks.

When you whined that you were close, he pulled you away from the wall and lowered you both to the ground, the wooden floor of his entryway cold and hard beneath your spine. It didn’t matter, didn’t do anything to stop the vortex tightening below your stomach. You slapped a hand over your face as it distorted in pleasure, Vernon kneeling between the legs you still had gripping his waist, one of his hands braced on the floor next to your head, holding his body over you.

“That’s right,” he breathed, gritted teeth flashing over you, forehead wrinkling as his own release closed in on the chase. “Just fucking take it when I fuck you into the floor.”

Then he was pulling out, breaths hissing through his teeth as he straightened up, one hand pumping himself furiously until strings of white decorated your stomach, cooling immediately in the apartment’s chilly air.

His breathing was ragged as he sagged back onto his heels, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him warily.

Then he stood and slipped into the hallway bathroom, the light clicking on and illuminating the unlit entryway where you’d just fucked. You heard the sink run, then shut back off, and Vernon returned. He knelt gingerly - you could see his knees were red from kneeling on the wooden floor - and cleaned your stomach first, then gently between your legs.

You sat the rest of the way up then, watching him carefully as he sat back on his heels again, avoiding your gaze. Something about the moment felt like a thing alive, unfurling between you like a casablanca lily under the refracted light of the moon.

You spoke at the same time.

“Vernon?”

“You okay?”

You swallowed, rubbed absently at your elbow where you’d smacked it on the floor during the position change.

“I’m fine,” you said tentatively. “Are you?”

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and then peering through his fingers at you for a second before dropping them again. “Thought I hurt you.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. I would have said something.”

He nodded, relief starting to bring feeling back to his hands again. He stood and reached a hand down for you. When you took it, he closed his fingers around yours and pulled you to your feet.

“I know we don’t usually do this,” you said, rubbing at the parts of you that had been on the floor - the backs of your legs, your ass, “but could I take a super fast shower before I go?”

“Yeah,” he said, so quickly that the word almost trips on itself. “Of course.”

He led you into the bathroom, rummaged in the disorganized linen closet for a clean towel, pressed it into your hands.

“If you need one, too,” you said easily, as he reached around you to turn the water on so it could heat up, “I don’t mind if you join me.”

He paused. “You sure?”

You shrugged, then leaned over to put your hand under the spray, testing to see if it was still cold. “It’s your shower.”

Under the stream of warm water, you turned to face him, front to front, looking up at him with clear eyes. Something in your expression was so open, Vernon couldn’t help but feel both the desire to step into the space you seemed to be offering him as well as the desire to get far, far away from it.

He’d been so angry before you’d texted, furious enough that he’d bruised his knuckles punching the doorframe; now, as the chemicals in his body settled down, he felt those knuckles throbbing. He was disgusted that he’d lost his temper, guilty that he’d taken any of that anger out on you, who had nothing to do with it.

He was scared of the desire he felt to be closer to you, just for tonight. Scared that fucking you hadn’t been enough to soothe whatever it was that roiled inside him, like it usually was. Scared that he felt like he needed more than sex to heal this particular burn.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and part of him thought he was apologizing in advance, like he knew already he’d run scared at some point. “For being so...”

He didn’t know what word fit best.

“I told you,” you said, pressing a little closer, “I would have said if I had a problem.”

“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “If you’re sure.”

Then he reached over and brushed a thumb along your cheekbone, chasing away a rivulet of shower-water. You closed your eyes for a second, and he swore he could feel you lean into the touch, just slightly.

He didn’t know how to explain how he felt. Kind of like he’d done a hot-coal-walk; the exhaustion that came with an adrenaline crash, the vulnerability that came after facing down something big, that need - the burn inside him needing cool water before it could quiet down.

With the shower off, the silence in the bathroom was loud.

“Do you…” Vernon started, then stopped. His heart hammered, the adrenaline returning. He covered the moment by toweling his hair roughly and pulling his hands through the strands so they’d lay right. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? I was gonna order delivery, maybe watch something before I finish my assignment.”

He’d expected you to think about it, to turn it over in your mind the way you turn his things over in your careful hands, the way you turn him ass over head with just a smirk. Instead, you nodded right away.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was no big deal. Like you did this all the time. Maybe you did, just not with him. “I was starving, actually. I could stay for an hour or two.”

On his couch, the leftovers of the food scattered on his coffee table, you reached for his hand, ran a thumb imperceptibly along his purpled knuckles. You didn’t ask what happened, just brought them to your lips and pressed the lightest kiss before putting them down again and reaching for your noodles, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

That was when Vernon saw the potential of it, an entire picture, framed and labeled: you could hurt him so badly if he let you, if he let it get that far. For whatever it was that burned inside him, you were the cool water… but you could absolutely be gasoline, instead.

1 yr, 3 months ago

If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the light that passed over your closed lids in a repetitive pattern was the sweep of a lighthouse beam. You could pretend that the rumbling bass of the music was the roar of the ocean. You could pretend that you weren’t here, in a shitty bar, but at the seaside. You could pretend that you weren’t alone. You could pretend that you weren’t you.

You drained your drink and caught the bartender’s eye, gesturing for another, sliding the sweating glass away from you once you knew a new one was coming.

“What are you drinking?”

The voice came from your right, and you lifted tired, disinterested eyes to find the source of it.

“G and T,” you answered, because it was one fewer syllable than saying gin and tonic and maybe that one syllable would do the dirty work for you and tell this guy that you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Nice,” he said, like you’d said something interesting, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t return the question, just slid your phone screen on and opened your messages.

wyd

drinks at my hyungs place. wbu

damn. guess i have to settle for one of these very mid prospects at the willow

damn thats a sad story. if only you had a better option

if only my better option werent busy at his hyung’s

no one said i had to stay here. ur at the willow?

yep

The guy to your right tried again. “The DJ tonight kind of sucks, huh?”

You looked back at your phone.

don’t leave

You smiled into your drink, a thrill dancing through your bloodstream. The lights and music didn’t seem as garish as they had ten minutes ago.

“My boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up,” you said flatly to the guy who kept trying to talk to you, “so you might want to find someone else to complain about the DJ to.”

The word tasted like lemonade on your tongue - acidic and sour, sweet and refreshing, taste buds blooming and shriveling in tandem. Even the knowledge that it was a flat-out lie didn’t stop your heart from beating faster.

You expected the guy to get up and leave, maybe throw you a dirty look on his way. Instead, he seemed to call your bluff, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read you.

“I don’t think I’d let my girlfriend go out alone looking like this,” he said evenly, and you let out a derisive laugh.

“The fact that you just said the words let my girlfriend probably has a lot to do with why you’re here alone,” you countered, a flash of victory slicing up your spine when you saw his face flush.

Before he could retort, you hopped down from your barstool, pushing your way into the crowded dance floor. You didn’t even want to dance, you just wanted to get away. If Vernon wanted to find you, he could come find you. He’d told you not to leave, he hadn’t said make it easy for me.

He found you anyway; he made it look easy. He stepped around a group of guys talking in a circle and into your space, like he was following a path, like he knew there’d be room for him.

You were happy to see him. You were happy he came. You were happy to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne and hear your name tumble from his mouth like a statement. You were too drunk to tuck these truths away into pockets and folds where they would be harder to find.

You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. If he was surprised, his body hid it well. His hands came to rest on your lower back, pressing you closer to him as you leaned up to find his mouth.

You kissed him slowly, at odds with the frantic bassline vibrating under your feet. You let him tip your head back, changing the angle, sweeping your mouth with his tongue until you both tasted lemonade.

“Happy to see me?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face, one eyebrow arched in question and one half of his mouth twitching into a smile.

You didn’t have it in you to lie, so instead you said, “Your place?”

He led you outside.

As luck would have it, the idiot from the bar stood beside the front door, a cigarette between two fingers. His expression darkened when he recognized you, then further when he saw your fingers linked with Vernon’s as you stepped into the quiet night.

“Your girlfriend’s a fucking bitch,” the guy bit out, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it.

Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.

Evenly, he said, “She’s not -”

She’s not my girlfriend. You felt your stomach swoop, and you felt yourself flinch.

“- a bitch. She’s just smarter than you.”

Vernon tugged on your hand, leading you across the street to his parked, waiting car.

You tried to bite back a smile, and he looked sideways at you, his own lips twitching.

“What?” he demanded.

“What?” you parroted.

He scowled at you, but his lips were just smiling. “What?” he asked again.

You laughed. “Let’s go,” you said. “The bitch wants to kiss you more.”

You expected his smile to sharpen. Instead, something in it seems to soften, changing from teasing to actual affection.

“Alright,” he said, turning to start the engine. “Can’t really say no to that, can I?”

“You could,” you mused, as he pulled away from the curb and the bar slid into nothingness behind you, “but I just don’t think you should.”

1 yr, 2 months ago

wyd

melting

srsly

no, seriously. i am laying on my living room floor like a starfish trying not to turn into liquid

come to hyungs

its too hot to move

i have an idea, come meet me at hyungs

You frowned at your phone. Of course your aircon died during the only heatwave you could remember in your entire adult life. Your whole body felt sticky; you were pretty sure you were stuck to your floor.

It was too hot to move.

what’s the idea??

you’ll see. i’ll order u a car. can you bring a couple towels?

“Vernon, no,” you laughed, your voice echoing.

He shushed you through laughter, both of you leaning on each other as you stood at the edge of the yard, the grass tickling the bottoms of your bare feet. Upstairs, at his friend’s place, you’d thrown back a few shots for courage before following Vernon out here, and you were feeling them, your head swimming like your body might soon be.

“It’s a circuit, see?” he tried to explain, pointing through the night, as if you could see through all the fences and over all the hedges. “Five yards, five pools, and then we end up right back here and we get in the car and go. Just follow me, don’t stop for anything.”

“Someone’s gonna call the cops,” you complained. “And these neighborhoods all have cameras.”

“That’s why we keep moving,” he said, his grin so excited and so un-Vernon that you almost couldn’t bear to say no to him. “No one’s gonna call the cops if we’re already gone - it’s not worth it. You ready?”

You hesitated. “You’re good to drive us out of here?” you checked.

He held up his hands as if to show innocence. “Only had a beer,” he promised. “But I’ve got something fun in the car for after, if you want.”

You felt your grin turn wolfish. “Okay. I’m right behind you.”

“Try and be quiet,” he warned, then took off running across the yard, cannonballing into the pool with a splash.

You tore off after him, leaping into the water and suppressing a shriek when the cold water hit you. You felt instantly sober, jittery with adrenaline, alive with laughter. You spluttered your way to the surface and pushed water away from your eyes, trying to find him through the shadows.

He was already climbing out the other side, water running down his back, the muscle shifting in the half-light as he hoisted himself back onto the pool’s deck. You hurried across the pool, climbing up beside him, giggling wildly.

“Shhh,” he warned, but he was giggling too as he led you carefully over the fence to the next yard.

As soon as you crept close enough to the pool to jump, a motion-activated light came on, flooding the yard white and causing you to cover your eyes.

“Quick!” Vernon told you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in with him as he jumped.

You let out a stream of bubbles and water rushed into your mouth. You felt your feet hit the bottom and you pushed off hard, surfacing quickly.

Again, you followed him across the pool, both of you laughing and whispering, “Hurry! Quick!” as you climbed out and headed around the house to the front yard.

“Okay, this is the hard part,” he told you, both of you shivering as the night air caught up to you. “We have to cross the street, hop the fence, and then the pool is around back.”

“I’m ready,” you promised, with a particularly hard shiver.

You sprinted across the street, both leaving wet footprints on the pavement. His hand felt warm in yours when he helped you over the fence, warm on your body when he held your waist as you climbed down.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, but giggles still spilled out of you.

“More fun than melting, right?” he asked, and you thought that you’d seen him smile more tonight than in whole months of coming together at night.

You thought you might move mountains to see him smile like this again, gums showing, open and honest, happy.

Then you were underwater again, swimming hard to keep up, following Vernon through the night as he pushed his way through some hedges and held them apart for you.

You made it to the last house before someone caught you, slamming the back door open and shouting, “Hey!”

“Go, go, go!” Vernon cried, laughing with such abandon that it sounded like goose honks, pulling on your hand as you both stumbled, dripping, towards the car.

You’d set towels on the seats before starting, so you tumbled into the car and he peeled away, both of you laughing wildly as you left the neighborhood behind.

It was miles before you calmed down, gasping in breaths and trying to hold them before exploding into laughter again.

“I’d better not end up on the news,” you scolded. “I’m in my underwear.

He gave you a searing sideways look. “I noticed.”

You felt yourself warm again, despite being in soaking wet clothes.

“Where next?” you asked. “Home?”

He let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “I don’t really want to go home,” he admitted. Then, “I was having fun with you.”

You considered this. “Not to be a cliche, but… I know a place.”

The quarry was quiet, surrounded by only trees; without posted lights, everything seemed to be just varying shades of black - the black of the water just darker than the black of the stone ledges just darker than the walls of trees just darker than the sky sprinkled with stars above you.

“We have to be careful,” you warned him seriously. “If you slip and get hurt, it could be bad.”

He turned the flashlight on his phone on and set it next to the metal rungs that jutted out of the stone, a makeshift ladder for the swimmers who came here during the day, when swimming was allowed.

“It’s going to be way colder than the pools,” you added.

“You’re not selling this very well,” he pointed out.

“Don’t be a chicken,” you teased.

He eyed the water. “I’m having second thoughts.”

You nudged him in the ribs, which caused him to squirm away, hands batting at yours, a noise emitting from him that made you laugh out loud.

“Are you ticklish?” you demanded. “How did I not know?”

“Come on, are we jumping or what?” he asked, laughing, still trying to keep your sneaky hands away from his ribs.

“Yeah, that’s probably the only way to actually get in,” you admitted, still laughing a little. Your abs felt a little sore from how much you’d laughed tonight.

You stood on the edge of the stone, toes curling over the ledge, Vernon’s hand tight in yours. You stood on the edge, the ink-like water beneath you rippling slightly, marring the reflection of the constellations high above you. You stood on the edge of something, knowing full well you were afraid to swim.

He counted you down, and together, you jumped.

The water was freezing - it hurt, it stung, and you shrieked and laughed as you surfaced. A foot from you, Vernon was shouting.

“The towels!” you told him, already swimming towards the little dot of light that marked the ladder.

Shaking and shivering, you reached your towel, wrapping it around yourself. Behind you, Vernon jogged up, making noises like a disgruntled horse as he found his own towel.

“Oh my god,” he groused, grabbing for you. “I’m freezing, come here.”

He opened his arms, the towel behind him like a wingspan, and you stepped into the space, letting him wrap his arms and his towel around you. You stood shivering together, trying to let your body heat chase the cold away.

You wrapped your own arms around his middle, pressing yourself closer as your legs shook, shivers rolling up your spine in waves as your body fought the chill.

“C’mere,” he murmured above you, holding you a little more tightly, his own teeth chattering.

It was the first time, you realized as you turned your head to rest your cheek on his chest, that you’d held each other. It was the first time you’d been between his arms when you weren’t fucking, the first time he’d tightened his grip around you for a reason other than gratification.

You didn’t want it - didn’t want to know that it felt nice in his embrace, didn’t want to know that it fit right and felt safe. You didn’t want to know that you liked it, didn’t want to have to fight against the humiliation of wanting more.

As soon as the full-body tremors died away in the warm, sticky night, you stepped away, eager to put distance between you again.

Later, he looked over at you from the driver’s seat of the car, red-eyed, his smile stretching slow and thick like putty. When you straddled his lap, his hands searching out the bare skin of your back, you rocked against him and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the column of his pretty throat until you were pulling groans from him with each pass of your hips.

Forget, you thought, as you pulled your underwear to the side for him. Forget every single thing but this.

When you slipped an arm behind his neck and pressed your foreheads together as you lifted and dropped, you weren’t sure whose memory you were hoping to erase with this most recent pleasure-chase: yours, or his.

1 yr, 1 month ago

There was no map or calendar to this thing your brain did. It was summer, the sun shone, and yet the days bled together again, sunsets swirling down the shower drain.

The last time you’d gone radio silent, the last time your world had gone grey without warning, Vernon had answered in kind. His own silence had shouted for him until you’d tempted him back.

This time, he didn’t resort to silence in retaliation to yours. Instead, he kept trying, relentless. If you’d had more presence of mind, you might have wondered why.

wyd

[ ]

yo. whats the deal

[ ]

i will have you know that this is very insulting

[ ]

don’t get mad but im coming over

“What the fuck, Vernon.”

“I said don’t get mad.”

“It doesn’t work like that. What are you doing here?”

He leveled you with a look. “You gonna let me in?”

“Literally, no.”

You hadn’t showered in days; your apartment was probably grosser than you were. The cat milled around your ankles, trying to weasel its way outside, and you hopped from foot to foot trying to nudge it back inside.

“Why not?” he asked.

You huffed, annoyed. But the annoyance was the first thing you’d felt all day, and something inside you clung to it, desperate for more of anything but the crawling nothing that’s kept you company for days.

“Because,” you grumbled. Because there’s nothing for you here. Because I have nothing I can give you. “I’m… just not in the mood.”

He stepped back from the door so you could see more of him. “I’m not asking you to be.”

“Then why are you here?” The words fell between you, heavy. If you hadn’t been so low, if you hadn’t gone all day without eating, if you hadn’t been on your thirtieth hour without sleeping, you would have known better. You would have realized that you were asking, if you aren’t here for sex, then what are you here for?

You wouldn’t have asked a question that you didn’t want the answer to.

He met your eyes. He seemed to teeter on the edge of telling you the truth, giving you the real answer. Then, he muttered, “Got bored.”

You knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew you knew it, and yet neither of you were willing to look at it directly.

“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He watched you for what felt like a long time, face serious, eyes glittering and attentive. Then, instead of answering, he repeated, “Are you gonna let me in?”

You frowned at him, but there was a little more pout to it than anger. “I’m all gross,” you said, instead of answering.

Something in him softened - it was visible on his face, in his shoulders, like he knew this was your way of saying yes. “So let’s shower,” he suggested quietly.

You felt trepidation, like part of you expected him to stay soft, to try to take care of you. To your relief, Vernon acted like everything was normal, scrunching his face at you when the water was too cold as he stepped in, washing his own body in silence and letting you do your thing.

He didn’t try to hold you, didn’t ask you when you’d eaten last, didn’t try to talk about it - didn’t try to fix it. He was just… there, and this - along with your first shower in days - was somehow revitalizing in itself.

You pulled on clean sweats, which was better than the day-four sweats he’d found you in. “The apartment’s kind of… sorry,” you mumbled, looking around the living room, feeling a bit of that familiar shame crawl up your neck as you noticed the evidence that you hadn’t been picking up, or running a vacuum.

Vernon flopped backwards on your sofa, unphased, one arm bent behind his head. “We’ve been doing this for almost a year,” he pointed out. “I know how it usually is.”

It isn’t usually like this. And neither are you.

You wondered when it happened - your ability to finish his half-thoughts, your ability to know what he meant when he only said a fraction of it.

You stood awkwardly beside the couch where he was lounging, and he looked up at you with a tiny, amused smile.

“What do you wanna do?”

What you really wanted to do was cocoon yourself in blankets again and put on repeats of a show you’d already seen. But now you had to look functional. You might be mad at him for showing up like this, now that you thought about it.

“I dunno,” you said, which was close to the truth.

“You wanna eat?”

“Honestly?” you asked, pursing your lips a little. “No.”

“Okay,” he said easily, and it struck you again how different this was than how Chan treated you when you were low. Chan would have already had the food delivered, and would be chasing you around the table with loaded chopsticks, demanding you take a bite.

“Can we just… watch something?” you asked, unsure.

Vernon wordlessly reached for your remote and held it up to you, nonplussed.

You wondered if it was an act, how easy this was, how unbothered he was, how he seemed to just understand what wouldn’t help.

You knew it wasn’t; you’d been around long enough to know that Vernon’s demons weren’t all that different from yours.

You settled somewhere between his body and the back of the couch, one leg bent over his legs, one of your arms over his stomach and his arm curled around your shoulders.

“This is weird,” you muttered into his chest, and his laugh rumbled under you.

“Why?” he asked, his smile big, like he thought you were particularly funny. “Not used to being big spoon?”

Not used to cuddling - with you.

“Yeah,” you said, because that was easier.

On your TV, a show ran through several episodes, the changing scenes splashing you and Vernon with changing colors, casting his face blue and then white and then black and then red and then blue again. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d scroll on his phone. You mostly felt his heart beating under your hand and let your mind whir.

At some point he started mindlessly (or not mindlessly, who could know) stroking your back, gentle touches brushing up and down, slow, slow, the way he always was. At some point you shivered, goosebumps rising along your arms, and snuggled closer to him. At some point he shifted you from slightly beside him to on top of him, a second hand slipping under your loose tshirt and joining the first in tracing stripes up and down your upper back.

You shifted against him, something coming to life with a shudder like the furnace in your parent’s basement on cold autumn nights. Heat worked its way slowly from your core to your stomach, down your legs.

He kept his eyes on the tv, innocent, but you could hear his heartbeat. It couldn’t lie and pretend.

You shifted again, squirming until you’d worked his t-shirt up just enough that you could touch skin, too. You trailed your own fingers over the inch of exposed stomach you’d found, and delighted in the way you could feel him start to harden beneath you.

Then, you delighted in your delight. It was the first good thing you’d been able to feel in almost a week.

You said his name, and he finally looked down at you, eyes nearly black in the unlit room.

“What is it?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly so low it sent shivers tumbling down each vertebrae and tripping over to your limbs. “Want me to make you feel good?”

No, you wanted to say as you answered his question by pulling the hem of his t-shirt higher, encouraging him to lift up so you could pull it off. No, just want you to make me feel.

1 year ago

Everywhere Vernon looked, all he saw was circles. Circle of red in his bowl when he inhaled. Circle of condensation on the table when he lifted his beer. Circle of light reflecting from his phone case, laying in the setting sunlight, to the ceiling. Above him, the ceiling fan circled lazily, nowhere to be.

And you - you and him. That was a circle, too. A cycle, at least, which was close enough in his opinion. Text, hook up, skitter back to your respective places, wait out the next weekend. It was as rhythmic and routine as waves breaking and then getting pulled back out only to come shatter on sand again. It was out of his control, up to forces far greater than he was.

Vernon’s friends had texted to hang out and he’d declined. He told them he was seeing his parents, but really, he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to watch the ceiling fan circle, he wanted to let his brain go staticky quiet, he wanted to burrow deep into things that made him feel less.

But he still, somehow, wanted to see you. He wanted to be alone, and being with you didn’t feel like not getting that.

It was a little scary, he thought, that you were the exception. That he could be with you without feeling the uncomfortable pressure of being with others, of having to be on, of having to fake cheerfulness and keep up with chatter that only exhausted him.

Vernon wasn’t a kid. He knew what it meant.

whats up

honestly not a lot. want me to come over?

Yeah, he did. He did, even if you weren’t going to hook up. He did, even if you were just going to lay on opposite sides of the couch and scroll on your phones. He did, and he hoped he’d end up with his arms around you, and he hoped he’d make you laugh at least once, and he hoped you’d stay and just be there with him after.

When you came over, he asked you how you felt about it - about him, about you and him. He asked by laying you on your back in his bed, by brushing fingertips along your face. He asked you by sliding your leggings away gently, pressing his mouth to each inch of your inseam as it became exposed to his dimly lit room. He asked you by kissing you through the lace you wore for him, then kissing the same spot once that lace was on his floor.

He asked you when he crawled up your body until his tip teased at your entrance and you whined, shifting to try to take him. And - when he took it slow this time, teeth scraping at your neck and then tongue hurrying to soothe the sting, his arms bracketing your body like he was sheltering you from an incoming storm.

(Maybe, he considered, he was.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was worthless in the face of this storm’s wrath.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was the fucking storm in the first place.)

And you heard his question loud and clear. You pulled on your leggings as soon as you were cleaned up, popping your hood up over your head as you searched for your phone. You kept your eyes on your screen as you waited for a car to come, murmured, “Later,” on your way out the door.

Vernon’s apartment rang with quiet. He was alone, he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

He’d also, it seemed, gotten his answer.

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thank you so much for reading!!! i'm always happy to hear what you think!

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vnmpior · 2 years

Text

PAY ☆ ATTENTION

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem! reader

summary: dragging yourself through an alleyway, you didn't notice the gleam of a metal barrel behind you, or the other pair of eyes looking through a scope, trained on you. maybe if you paid attention, he wouldn't be here taking a bullet out of you.

note: he's taking over my entire tiktok fyp this fanfic is the least i could do. i haven't played the whole campaign and i've mostly watched my mom play, so sorry if there's any crazy mistakes (although this has nearly nothing to do with the actual mw2 campaign) this is gonna be short until i'm comfy enough writing for him. intentionally lowercase.

not proofread + i hate this

☆☆.

you stalked through a dark street, only the moon illuminating your way to the rendezvous point, a safehouse. you tightened your grip on the handle of your rifle, alert for any sounds of being followed.

you had a slight limp, due to someone catching sight of you running away from the scene of majority of his cartel lying dead on the floor. before you could manage to pull your trigger, he shot a bullet that skidded right past your leg, causing you to wince in pain.

the man who shot you fell to the floor, gun clattering to the floor. you scowled at the red starting to slowly spread through your pants and decided that it wasn't bad enough for you to have to treat it at the moment.

"i'll just fix that at the safehouse. i've wasted enough time," you sighed to yourself, turning back around and continuing on your way.

as you left the building, you scanned the area outside in case there were any more cartel members, looking deeply into the shadows that could easily deceive you and cost you your life. if the area wasn't clear, you would be easily identifiable on the way to the alley, almost nothing to cover you and nothing but cars on the street to prevent you from being shot again.

after verifying that the coast was clear, you ran to the alley that you decided was going to be the way you made it to the RV from, since it would be easy to blend in with the cover of the night and was the fastest way to the abandoned house.

of course, that was true. but it was also true for whoever else could possibly be in the narrow road with you.

you hissed occasionally, debating if you should make a makeshift bandage for your leg before continuing on.

"viper, how copy?" ghost's voice crackled, breaking you from your thoughts

"i'm alive," you responded, gripping onto your radio. "son of a bitch shot me in the leg though."

"you got him?"

"of course, Lt."

"atta girl."

a few moments of silence passed, the only sound being your soft footsteps echoing off the walls, and then, something else.

you turned around quickly, gun ready. your eyes shot left and right, waiting for something to come out of the darkness. with your luck, they wouldn't even come out of the black pit and simply just shoot you.

"viper, pay attention." it felt like you could hear him from above, and also from the radio. was he watching over you? you would ask him about that later.

"fucking christ ghost, what the fuck do you me-" you stopped when you saw a dull glimmer from the moonlight hitting something metallic.

before you could react, or even pinpoint where exactly the person was, two shots rang out.

you heard a thump, and felt a sharp pain in your arm.

"fuck!" you yelped, dropping your gun to grip onto your left arm, feeling blood seep through.

"you alright?" you knew that you didn't hear a hint of worry in his voice. you knew he would chastise you when you got back for your late reaction time on now two occasions and how you could've died. he just wants to know you aren't lying dead on the floor.

"yes, sir. i'll get through it. i'm guessing you got them?" your bloody hand made the radio all sticky, and you bit your lip as you ripped a piece of your pants off and wrapped it tightly around your arm.

he ignored your question, or maybe you took your hand off the radio trigger a bit too early. "we're close enough to the RV point, i'll take the bullet out there."

your gaze went up to the sky, squinting to see if ghost was there. after not even hearing a single noise, you continued on your way to the rendezvous, retrieving your gun from the floor.

☆☆.

"miss me, lieutenant?" you limped into the building, grinning.

he had his arms crossed, and you couldn't read the look in his eyes.

"still mad at me? i'm here, in the flesh," you set your gun down against the wall and stalked past him, looking for some bandages and tweezers.

"what was that back there?" he finally spoke in the silence. "if i wasn't there, or if he didn't have such shit aim, what do you think would've happened?"

"good thing you were there," you snapped. "now before you start scolding me like some fucking grandma with her panties in a twist, how about you help me take this cold ass bullet out of me?"

you heard him let out a growl as he came closer to you, and you nearly sunk into the floor with how he towered over you.

the two of you stared at each other, and you narrowed your eyes, standing your ground. if anyone looked at the scene from the outside, they would find the height difference laughable as you craned your neck up to see him. most times, you loved the height difference and would even build your fantasies around how he could easily pick you up, but in times like this you despised his massive build and height.

"alright, sit down," he gruffly said, his expression still unreadable. "don't think i'll forget about this shit you got yourself into."

you frowned and made your way to the chair he gestured towards, taking off your gear and lifting your sleeve up.

he unwrapped your makeshift bandage and examined the wound.

"don't fucking flinch," he brought a lantern closer to the two of you and took the tweezers from your hand.

you shivered at the contact, but ghost seemed to not notice or he paid no attention to it.

you let out a groan of pain as he began retrieving the bullet.

"holy fuck ghost, can't you make it hurt any less?" you said through your teeth.

"what, do you want me to kiss it better? fucking hell viper, did you think me taking the bullet out was going to be all happy and fun?" he kept his attention on the wound.

you shut your mouth, not knowing how to respond. your breath came out harder as you tried not to cry out.

"what if kissing it better will help?" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

the tweezers paused where they were, and you saw his eyes meet yours for a second before going back to the work at hand.

"for fucks sake, shut your mouth," he shook his head, acting disinterested, and continued. through the pain, you started observing him and the way his muscles tensed and untensed, his focused gaze on getting that bullet out of you, and his mask.

"ever gonna take the mask off?" you questioned.

"weren't you there with soap? the mask doesn't come off." he replied, and you heard a little ding as the bullet fell out.

you let out a sigh of relief, and ghost pulled away, grabbing a needle and some thread. as he turned his back, your eyes quickly shot down and back up before he could realize your attention on certain parts of him.

"how's your leg?" he nodded his head towards the bloodied side of your pants.

"he grazed it a bit." you pulled your pant leg up, slightly whimpering as the rough material slid over the open wound.

"bloody hell viper, that's fucking deep," he sighed. "i'm going to have to stitch this up also."

you frowned. "you sure this needs stitches, Lt? maybe if you put a little band aid on, kissed it, and called it a day, it'll heal," you winked.

"how about you stitch up your own damn self then, twat? you talk to all your superiors like this?"

"nope. you jealous?" you smirked.

"it sounds like you want to stich yourself up and have first watch," he replied as he started stitching you up without warning.

"holy fuck, ghost! a little warning?"

"maybe you should pay more attention to you surroundings. still haven't caught on that you could've died today? twice, apparently." he skillfully closed the tear on your arm, and then moved on to your leg, lifting your thigh up and setting it on a little stool.

"well i sure fucking didn't, did i? i never die on y'all," you were starting to get annoyed of being reprimanded like a little kid.

a shock of pain shot through your leg, but you ignored it through your anger. all he's going to do is constantly talk about this. maybe he's even lost complete trust in you when it comes to being alert and undistracted.

you loved it when he talked to you, having a "little" crush on him for years now, ever since the first time you worked with him, but you knew ghost would never let his work life mix with his love life. but him being pissed off and annoyed with you never felt good.

you looked down again at ghost closing up your laceration. your ears were nearly buzzing at how silent it was, and said,

"ever had a girlfriend?"

ghost hummed, seemingly now unsurprised in your random questions.

"no, i haven't."

"too handsome for them? the girls over there in the uk not good enough for you?" ghost put the last stich in your leg and began cleaning up, getting up from his place where he was crouching, which you noticed with a grin was one of the only times he was shorter than you.

"i don't think about dating. is that why you were so distracted today?" his accented voice made you have goosebumps with how close to your ear he was.

"what if i was distracted by someone?" you got up from the chair, wobbling a little due to the pain and probably even the amount of blood you lost on the way here.

"well, you sure as hell better stop thinking of them by tomorrow," he quickly grabbed your arm to prevent you from falling over, and your face flushed.

"but if they're always around me, how am i supposed to stop thinking about them?"

"so you have a little schoolgirl crush?"

"i wouldn't call it a schoolgirl crush. i've known them for years."

you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

"if you want them so bad that you can't focus in an area with a bunch of threats, maybe you got to fucking get over it or tell them how you feel already. i don't need you making rookie mistakes on your missions."

"so i should confess to them?"

there was a pause before ghost responded, "do i look like a fucking love fairy? do whatever you have to do to start paying attention."

you made your way in front of him, preparing for the rejection of your life. hey, at least that would most definitely stop you from thinking about him all the time.

you looked up through your eyelashes at the built man towering above you.

"i fucking like you, simon."

"what was that?"

your head flung upwards to look at him, his hand gripping onto your chin.

"i said, i fucking like you," your eyebrows furrowed, and your face heated up in embarrassment. you attempted to look anywhere but him, but it was kind of hard when his face was right in front of yours, to the point where you could see every single little scratch and imperfection in his well loved skull mask.

"so i was the one distracting you this whole time?"

"yes! jesus christ, are you gonna kiss me or not?" you decided to let that slip from your mouth, impatient in how he was going to respond.

a hint of amusement danced in his eyes, and he took his hand away from your chin and lifted his mask off just barely to the point where you could see his plump lips, the yellow light from the lantern casting shadows on his face.

he inched closer, all the way to where you could feel his breath on your face and all you could see was his eyes. you licked your lips in anticipation, finally being able to kiss the one person you've wanted to kiss ever since you were a young rookie.

"will this make you pay attention?"

☆☆.

#i fucking hate this i'm sorry #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #mw2 imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fanfiction

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crusty-chronicles · 1 year

Text

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #5 Kakashi (Naruto)

He had known about you since he was a child.

And at that time he absolutely hated you

How could someone so careless and utterly dimwitted be a shinobi?

You were constantly fumbling missions

You were never on time (actually getting lost on the way there)

And you could never take hints

It was a miracle you never died.

But as he grew older and everything with the 3rd Shinobi War, he sort of forgot about you.

He wouldn't run into you again until after he started teaching Team 7.

Naruto had pointed out a new squad's unusual training methods.

"Look at those weirdos! They're balancing an egg on their finger! And I thought you were weird Kakashi-Sensei. Ha! Their teacher must be insane!"

The boy wasn't wrong, it was odd, but that's more of a thought he should've kept to himself.

Especially since the squad heard him

One of them lost focus and dropped their egg.

The other gave up in favor of chewing Naruto out.

And the last kept their cool.

It was complete chaos.

"How dare you insult our sensei! I'll have you know they're one of the strongest Shinobi the Leaf has!"

"Yeah right! If they're so great why haven't I heard of them!?!"

"I haven't even told you their name yet you loudmouth!"

Kakashi was about the intervene, (trying not to cause a bigger scene) when the boy arguing with Naruto was hoisted up by a familiar figure.

"Ryuuuu~You know better than to pick a fight."

The boy lost all the fight in him and hung his head in shame.

"I know, but he was disrespecting your training."

And then Kakashi saw you in full.

That dimwitted kid he assumed would become nothing, was right in front of him.

You'd become a teacher and a Jonin.

And you still had that overly dopey look.

"Then you'll just have to prove him wrong, won't you?"

And it seems you actually matured.

He decided now would be the best time to re-indroduce himself.

He was curious to know just how the hell you got where you were.

"Y/n, long time no see."

And you gave him the blankest stare he's ever received in his life.

He felt a little self-conscious then because what if you had held a grudge for the way he treated you as a kid.

"I'm sorry??? Who are you???"

You didn't remember him??????

"Kakashi. We were acquaintances when we were kids. You were in Gai's squad right?"

Usually when people heard his name, it was immediate recognition.

But you continued to give him a blank stare for another two minutes before the dots finally connected.

"Oh...Ohhhhhh!"

Thanks goodness

"You're Gai's rival! The one he could never beat! How cool I get to meet you in the flesh!"

Kakashi was distraught because not only did you not remember him, but you only recalled him from Gai's stories.

But maybe it was a good thing you didn't remember him.

He could start fresh

And it would be nice to have someone to talk to that didn't constantly challenge him.

So he keeps finding ways to bump into you, just to take a peak inside that mind of yours

Realizes that no, you haven't outgrown your stupidity.

And it's not an act like his carefree facade

You still trip over nothing

You still have trouble deciphering secret documents

And you still can't find your way to meeting areas.

But unlike Kakashi's 'An old lady needed help' excuse, you just right out and say you got lost

And it catches him off guard everytime.

Your students adore you and after teaming up with your squad, he understands why

Whenever Naruto and Sasuke fight, he let's them sort it out themselves.

When your students fight, you make them perform such an outrageous act, that they forget what they're arguing about.

Instead of trying to one up each other over the smallest of mistakes, they actually work together because 'the faster we finish the mission, the more time we'll have to pick out a place to celebrate.'

But the one thing he still doesn't understand is how you became a Jonin.

Sure you were a great teacher, but you were still incredibly careless.

And then he finally sees your monster strength after the two of you had been ambushed on mission.

He didn't even have time to awaken his sharingan before you launched into action

There was no special jutusu's, no chakra based attacks, and no Kekkei genkai.

Just you downing enemy after enemy with Taijutsu

And he was so surprised, because you, the knuckle head idiot who even Obito could outsmart, had defeated about 30 Shinobi in less than 5 minutes

He understands clearly now how you got as far as you did

And it makes him feel a little guilty inside for the way he judged you

He seeks you out more frequently from then on, wanting to see what else you've been holding back.

But then he starts to notice the little things about you

Like how your socks are always mismatching

How when you can't read an important document, you have a student of yours read it out for you. (Those are secret for a reason dummy)

Or how whenever you see him, your eyes seem to light up a little more.

And goddamnit he's got a crush

He won't tell you for a long time

But there will be hints

He'll hold your hand in crowds because he's worried you'll wander off and get swept away

He'll request more missions with you even if it's a one man job

He'll take off his mask around you, knowing you won't make a big deal.

He'll be even later to meeting spots because he knows you got lost on the way and he wants to be the one to lead you there.

He doesn't tell you about his feelings for the longest time because he doesn't think he could take it if something happened to you.

If he let you into his life just to be taken away like everyone else.

But time and time again you prove your strength to him

And little by little his walls break down.

He's a sucker for romance as proven by his taste in books (not the Icha Icha novels 😭😭😭) so he'll try to confess using the traditional methods.

(we've got another one fellas)

Dinner dates, bringing you flowers, trying to woo you with his strength

But you never get the idea.

Not until he's ranting to Gai, the only other person closest to you, about his failures. Because at this point, he would take any help given.

He was already straining himself by being this forward, not used to being forced to confront his emotions.

"I just don't know what it's gonna take for Y/n to understand I like them."

And Gai sees you peaking over Kakashi's shoulder, with the other male not noticing you. And he gets a brilliant idea

"You like them?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't believe I do rival. To understand one's own emotions, they must verbalize it to the world."

The copy ninja had never been so flustered.

Verbalize his feelings?

Not a chance

It was just too embarrassing.

But Gai's plan wasn't for Kakashi to take the bait. It was for you. And take the bait you did.

"I love you!" So proud and happy and everything pure.

And Kakashi jumped because he was completely unprepared for it.

He turns to face you red in the face, while you're beaming up at him.

No embarrassment.

No regret

Just you with nothing going on up top

Head empty

And he's so smitten he pulls you into a hug.

Not a kiss, his heart's not strong enough for that yet. It's something he'll need to build up on.

He's a total dork when it comes to romance so all his nicknames for you are the lovey-dovey ones

Calls you love, honey, sweetheart, baby, dear, darling

He introduces you to his ninken and they straight up prefer you over him. You always bring over treats for them and have the energy to play with them.

Kakashi doesn't get jealous, but he gets very insecure

When other women or men flirt with you, you don't realize it. But Kakashi does and he thinks you might prefer the advances of the other party more than him.

But then you're always walking away from the other person because you saw him start to sulk.

You find him and squish his cheeks going-

"Why are you sad. C'mon and smile for me my pretty boy."

And he's so 😍😍😍 because you called him pretty.

And then he's blushing real hard because you also called him yours.

It always gets him to forget about the other person and cement the idea that you chose him

He's also fiercely protective of you.

Yes you're strong and can handle yourself, but there's always a possibility you could be killed.

And that's enough of a reason for him to never let you take on a mission by yourself

If the wrong person were to use your stupidity to their advantage.......

You're never allowed to fight by yourself

Please don't go without supervision

He doesn't want to lose you 🥺🥺🥺

UP NEXT: Sebastian Michaelis

MASTERLIST

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #kakashi hatake #naruto shippuden #x reader #x y/n #airhead s/o #stronk s/o

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marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

The Nanny pt2

Rio x fem!reader

Wc: 2.8k

Warnings: none, just Rio being cute and sprung. maybe a little jealous

(Scenes from season 4 episode6 are used)

this is how I picture him looking at the reader lol

He had no idea how he ended up here. How quickly his feelings had developed in the short time she'd lived with them. To him, she was no longer just a nanny, they'd become a partnership. He really lightened her workload over the months. On the days that he started work late, he would let her sleep in, he'd get Marcus' lunch together and even make her breakfast— always leaving a little note behind to let her know he had gone to drop off Marcus and he'd see her tonight when he got home. And when he got home he always had a home-cooked meal, he couldn't tell the last time he ordered food.

She even taught him a few of her favourite meals, which coincidentally became his and Marcus' favourite meals too.

Marcus would be on his PS5 long enough for them to be in the kitchen making mistakes, laughing about it. That's where they bonded the most, he felt like that's where she was herself. She often said she found peace in cooking, it'd bring back memories of her childhood and she'd tell him stories of cooking with her mother and her grandmother and he'd attentively listen.

She hated to admit it but moving in made her a lot happier. She was stuck in a dead routine, just go to work and go home— she had no roommate, no pets, no kids, absolutely nothing to come home to and no one to talk to but now she had extra company and voices around her.

"So, now you add a teaspoon of salt," YN instructed from the other side of the island, she watched as Rio's eyebrows knit together in concentration trying to find the teaspoon in the jungle of little measuring spoons she had bought all looped on a keychain. She covered her mouth to muffle her incoming laughter, Rio smirked after catching her in the corner of his eye.

"I'll fuck you up Yn, don't laugh." He playfully warned. She apologized and pointed it out to him. "Thanks."

"Mhm."

She checked her watch for the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes. Today they were dropping Marcus off at his great-grandmother's house, she had recently let Rio know that they were having a family gathering at her home and most of his cousins would be there so it was inevitable that he would sleep over.

Yn was a bit sad, it'd be her first night without reading Marcus a story or giving him a big kiss on his cheek. But her sadness had been replaced with fear once he mentioned that they wanted to meet her. Why would they want to meet her? Was he talking about her? And what was he telling them?

"Alright, I gotta mix it next?"

She nodded. A question wavering over her head, and Rio could tell. "Ask."

Her eyes widened. "Ask what?"

"Whatever question is floating in that pretty head of yours." He thought he was slick slipping that word in, actually, she noticed he'd been doing it a lot. He'd call her baby, pretty girl, her favourite had become pretty mama. His too. He saw the effect it had on her, how giggly and blushy she got.

Yn took a deep breath. "Why does your grandmother want to meet me?"

He swallowed. Well, it was because he wouldn't shut up about her, Marcus had a bit of help in it too but truthfully it was mostly him. His grandmother almost couldn't believe someone had her boy this sweetened, she had to meet this "miracle worker." She called.

"Uh," He wanted to lie, but he wouldn't he would only tell her a quarter of the truth. "I told her I got Marcus a nanny and she wanted to meet who's taking care of him and the house, that's it."

She squinted. "You couldn't send her a picture?" He stopped mixing and looked up at her through hooded eyes as if to say, are you serious?

Yn rolled her eyes and put her hands up. "Sorry."

He resumed letting out an amused chuckle. "Why you nervous?" She groaned. "Dude, it's your family, your grandmother. What if they don't like me?"

"They'll like you. I like you, so they will."

A lighthearted confession that could be taken both ways. Yn blushed but quickly wiped it off. "Fine, I'll go get ready. When you're done cover the bowl and put it in the fridge, I'll make it tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." She flashed a wink and slid off the barstool she was sitting on. Rio watched as she walked away, tongue swiping between his lips while her hips dipped a little extra in her stride. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

It took a while but everyone was finally dressed and out the door. Nobody said much during the car ride, Marcus was too occupied with his iPad to bother with conversation and Yn was still shaking in her skin, her leg closest to him continued to bounce and hadn't stopped once they left the house. He hesitantly moved his hand from his lap to her knee, he actively felt her leg slow down until it came to a full stop.

Her soft hand rested on top of his. "Sorry." She mumbled. "It's okay, told you... you'll be fine." Maybe she really was just overreacting but she couldn't help but think that this was more than just the family meeting the nanny. Yn had zoned out long enough for the rest of the ride, Rio's door closing is what brought her out of it. She unbuckled her seatbelt and bent down fixing the straps on her heels, she reached for the handle so she could open the door but was met with a hand.

"Come on." Rio smiled. She playfully rolled her eyes in order to hide her grin. Once she was in full view his eyes sparkled with adoration. "I tell you you look good before we left?"

"Yeah."

"Mm, well, you look beautiful."

She swore she could kiss him right there, she wanted to... so desperately. She rested her hand on his chin. "Thank you. You look beautiful too." She giggled. He winked. Marcus stood between them with his backpack on and a confused look on his face, a bit curious as to what was going on recently with them but he'd save it for later.

The three made their way to the backyard, Marcus had zoomed off once he heard children's laughter, his heavy backpack swinging and almost weighing him down caused the two to laugh. Once they were past the brick wall Yn was met with a whole generation of Rio's family— aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents were spread out through their backyard. A frigid air ran through her system when his presence vanished.

He had walked over to his grandma, slightly bending to embrace her in a hug. "Look how handsome you are papito." Yn smiled seeing her pinch his cheeks, he gently brushed her off and for a quick second you could see the little boy in him."Ay, abuela please." He whispered. She let out a hearty laugh gently hitting his arm, she glanced over at Yn. "Well, this must be who my boys are talking about so much."

She shyly waved while slowly approaching her open arms, they shared a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, sweetheart."

"Lovely to meet you too." She sweet-talked. "Come with me I have people I want you to meet."

Before Yn could protest she was being dragged off to another family member, she looked over her shoulder in a silent plea for Rio to be her scapegoat, he knew how she felt about meeting new people, but he just shook his head and mouthed, "you'll be fine."

And to her surprise, she was. His family embraced her almost immediately, spilling the tea on how Rio was when he was growing up and of course he was the same troublemaker back then. During your current conversation with one of his cousins, she felt sneaky slender fingers wrap around her biceps. "What lies are you telling this girl right now?" said Rio. The woman shrugged and sipped her drink. "Just telling her every embarrassing thing that she needs to know."

"Oh is that right?"

Yn leaned closer to him. "Yeah, so now I have some fire for you when you piss me off."

"Should've never brought you here."

His cousin chimed in, "Well, I'm glad you did. She's a keeper." Rio's face became flushed with sudden humiliation, it was almost like she was telling his crush that he had a crush on her without actually saying it. She noticed how red he was becoming and playfully hit his chest. "Eh, I guess I'll keep him too."

Before Rio could argue it was announced that the food was ready and that everyone should come eat. There were two tables, one for the kids and one for the adults, they made sure Marcus was good before heading to the other table. Rio pulled out her chair, she thanked him and sat comfortably and was already greeted by a plate of food. Everything looked and smelt so good. His grandmother plopped a scoop of potato salad on her plate, "Oh, it's a bit too much, thank you."

Rio smiled. "Nah, don't worry she will let you know when you've had enough."

Yn grabbed her fork and began to dig in, she sighed and closed her eyes thinking she might have to take some to go. "Good huh?" Rio laughed. "So fucking good."

"So how do you know my uncle?" A young man, who was a bit too young to be at their table but also a lot older than the other children, questioned. There was a beat of silence, neither knew who was going to answer or what to really say. Rio decided that maybe she'd been answering enough questions tonight and that he'd take this one. "She's uh, our nanny."

Then came another question. "Oh, what does she do?" Rio shrugged nonchalantly. "She helps me out. Ain't that right?" He bounced the response off to her, she swallowed what she was chewing and failed to make eye contact with anyone when she said, "We help each other out, we're partners."

A smirk tugged at his lips when she gently nudged him with her elbow. She had hoped the interrogation had come to its end but a man across from them decided to keep it going. She hadn't talked to him at all tonight, she caught a glimpse of him maybe but she wasn't drawn to him at all. "That's all?" He asks. Yn looked up at him, he had a cocky smile on his face, you could tell he thought he was a big shot and that he was probably used to getting anything he wanted.

There was a cold bitter breeze suddenly in the atmosphere. Rio's jaw flexed as he stared hateful daggers across the way while the other man held amusement like it was entertaining to see Rio in this light. The question remained in the air, no one decided to answer so now it was just awkward.

Rio's grandmother broke the ice. "So, do you have any children?" Yn's eyebrows pinched together. "Oh, no way." The table looked at her as if she had said something wrong, she retracted by saying: "Not that I don't like them, I mean I've been a nanny for fifteen years. I just um, haven't found anyone to make them with." She nervously laughed.

"Think you'll find him?" Tone. That tone. It was so snarky, and whenever she followed that tone it led back to that mischievous smirk, that know-it-all energy. There was nothing but hostility bouncing between this man and Rio, they remained quiet but their glares spoke loud enough for the both of them, a full-out brawl was going down in their heads. "Let the girl eat, Nick, she's barely touched her food." Said their grandmother. Rio grunted as he leaned back in his chair, pointing to the man and saying, "My cousin."

"Brother." Nick corrected.

"Cousin." Rio retracted. An annoyance washed over Nick but he tried his best to hold it together, his eyes shifted back to YN. "Heard a lot about you, YN. My brother makes it sound like you're more than just a nanny."

His grandmother tapped the table. "Nick shut up and eat your food please." The table of adults had soon shrunk back into their childish ways, and the unison of "Oouuuuuu." rang around the table. Nick bit the inside of his cheek and kept his comments to himself and the conversation roughly transferred to something else, Yn listened as she continued to devour her food. Her body suddenly froze when she felt a familiar hand rest on top of the space between her shoulder blades, it applied light pressure onto her muscle, it began to run up and down her back soothing her inside and out but also making her body shiver.

He was touching her. So gentle yet protective, like he had to let Nick know she was spoken for. She shifted in her seat, tugging her lip at the small friction she got from the chair. She needed to cool down. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Go straight down the hall and make a right, and it should be the first door."

YN excused herself and headed inside, she followed the instructions she was given and successfully found the bathroom door, she turned the knob but a cracked door not too far down caught her peripheral vision and curiosity began brewing inside. She looked back to make sure she was alone and headed down to the room. A small lamp was on illuminating the room, it was a small area— maybe a reading room considering there were lots of books on a shelf against the wall.

She furthered her exploration as she walked inside leaving the door cracked in case. She stumbled upon old pictures of who she could only assume was Rio and others of maybe his brother or cousin or whatever he is.

She softly smiled at a picture that reminded her of Marcus.

"What are you doin' in here?"

A gasp left her throat, she spun around to face Rio leaning against the door frame. "Sorry, I just... got a little curious."

"It's cool." He shrugged. Yn turned back around to continue her tour. Rio left his position, his footsteps were hushed due to the carpeting inside, he crept up behind her-- chest mere inches away from her back, the smell of her hair products infiltrated his senses. She could feel his body heat radiating onto her. "You used to be so cute." She mumbled pointing to the photos. "Used to? So, I'm not cute no more?"

Yn turned around in the minimum space that she had between his body and the shelf. He was awfully close. Close enough she could see every individual piece of hair on his moustache and every shade of pink on his lips. Her doe eyes wandered up to his dark ones, the desire and lust oozed out of them. Their bodies pressed together heatedly as their lips softly collided, both hesitant at first, a little kiss and pull away until Yn tugged on his shirt bringing him back where he belonged.

She was just as hungry for this feeling as he was, his lips were soft and warm-- so sweet and delicate with her. Rio almost melted into her. A warm feeling ignited inside of him, something he hadn't felt in a long time, maybe it was love or lust but he'd figure that shit out later right now he just wanted to stay in this moment. His hands ran down her dress, hiking the bottom up to meet the top of her thighs. He cupped her thigh and gently held her leg up dipping her further against the shelf.

"Rio..." She softly moaned between smooches. She wanted him to have her in any and every way that he wanted. A sudden loud crash came from the kitchen which startled the two. They pulled away but still held each other close. "Mmm, I guess we should go back," Yn whined. Rio planted one last quick kiss before fixing her dress, the two straightened themselves out and he turned to exit but she gripped his wrist.

"Can I ask you something?" He nodded giving her his full attention. "Why did you really bring me here?"

He looked down at his shoes, he couldn't keep the cat in the bag forever. "I wanted my people to meet someone who's important to me and Marcus."

"But mostly to you?" She teased. He sucked his teeth. "Shut up." He slipped his wrist out of her grasp and instead intertwined their fingers. They made their way back to the crowd, sitting back in their original spots. She could feel those same eyes staring at her from across the table but she'd ignore it.

But she didn't know how deep things were about to get.

lol i'm sorry this is so long

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love.

tags: @skyesthebomb @rio-reid-whoreee

#rio x fem!reader #rio x reader #rio #goodgirls #rio fanfic #rio fluff #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #good girls rio #rio good girls #imagines #Rio imagine

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onyichii · 3 months

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The only time I didn't like Yugo 👇

I REALLY wanted them to have a talk about this in season 4. I guess Ankama couldn't fit it in or didn't think it was important.

This occurs after he kisses her and calls it a mistake which hurts her feelings. As she is upset, Yugo tries to talk about it but she gives him a hard time (she does act like a butt). They don’t talk about it but instead sit together in silence. After a while, they kind of have a nonverbal “we’re good” moment.

How do we know this? We see that she is playful with him and still values what he thinks in this moment.

[Click this link to watch the clip]- I can't add more than 1 video per post. So here are screenshots from the “we’re good” scene.]

You're not playful with someone you're mad at. I think she thought about it and understood his dilemma and set it aside for the time being. She loves him and she can’t stay mad at him not now at least. After this playful interaction—HE STILL SAID THAT to Ruel-sipho)!! It’s fair that he’s still a little mad but damn.

Many audiences agreed with Yugo that Amalia was being obnoxious but to me that little playful scene defused their little quarrel. They were good at least from her perspective. From his reaction to her little playfulness it seemed like he agreed…but I guess not.

For the audience agreeing with Yugo…I blame misogyny tbh. It’s easy to hate female characters for the tiniest things. We see it time and time again.

I too agree that she was being bratty when he wanted to talk about it. But…i think she needed a little more time to collect herself. When they got that time to just sit in it we get that playful interaction.

Amalia literally left the side of her sick dying father to help him. He didn’t see her pain?

Then when she comes back (in s4) her father is dead. Missing her opportunity to say goodbye. At least they showed he felt guilty about that.

So then after all of this, when did he realize it was “romantic love.” Or did he always know but try to lie to himself to not give himself hope? I need answers because what they gave is not enough.

But yeah, that was the only time I didn’t like Yugo.

If Wakfu had the proper funding, I wonder if they would have spent a little more time on the interpersonal dynamics. We see time and time that they have a good nonverbal communication dynamic.

This is my interpretation. My perspective of that situation. If your interpretation is different that’s fine. I would love to ask one of the writers about this. Imma try to find one.

I keep comparing it to shows like Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, Avatar, and The Owl House who make time to show their characters have these tough talks. But those shows had the funding to do it. Wakfu did not. They had to use what they had to focus on the most important plot points and sum up the others.

Either way, the animated series is over. And they're married now…so that’s a win. I still wish we got more tough-talk scenes though. (But it's an action show with a male target audience so of course)

(I figured out how to screen record! 😆)

#wakfu #wakfu season 3 #yumalia #yugo the eliatrope #wakfu yugo #wakfu amalia #amalia sheran sharm #wakfu elely #wakfu spoilers #onyichii rants

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starry-eyed-steve · 1 year

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What do you have against Ronance? It's clear Robin was attracted to Nancy as well as Vickie. Not only that, she jumped off a boat into monster-water for her, for goodness' sake. It's a bad-faith argument to say that people don't ship Vickie with Robin because she's a bisexual sapphic woman. Greatwise/Will and Gareth is not comparable in the slightest as that is a crack ship that never interacted. We DID have scenes with Robin and Vickie, though few.

And I'm gonna be So For Real, more people would ship Rovickie if Ronance was not there. People would devour those crumbs. But why choose crumbs, when you have a potential meal we spent a whole season with?

Okay, so this is really long, I'm sorry this took way too much time. I know I went a bit overboard. If there are any errors, please ignore lmao. Thank you for sending me an ask for a discussion. I also want to preface that I don't hate Nancy as a character, I don't like how she is written in certain situations and that the show overlooks mistakes she makes, and by pointing out those mistakes on her behalf is not me hating on her. Overall, I think she deserves better than what she is given both in the show and fandom.

First things first, Robin didn't jump into the water for Nancy. It was a delayed response after seeing her best friend being dragged under water. She's not as brave as Nancy. If we would apply the same logic, then Eddie would have jumped for Robin because he's in love with her. So no Robin jumped for Steve and should have been the first to do so, but because that scene was used for Stancy later (Eddie giving the speech to Steve in the woods) it had to be Nancy in that instance. It's really bothering me that this scene is so misread because people just don't get Robin's character. Who would you jump for, your best friend you know better than yourself or the girl you met a day ago?

The whole premise of Ronance (platonic or romantic) in s4 was so ooc for Robin, s3 Robin would have never acted the way like s4 Robin did. And I think that has something to do with what I said in the other post. We don't have enough time. There is no conflict when different groups of people come together because the show needs everyone to get along to save the world, and they couldn't elaborate on complex feelings a person might have towards others. So the show made Robin throw herself at Nancy's feet, despite thinking not too highly about her a season prior. Same with Steddie, the OG script was about how Steve and Eddie didn't get along first but it was cut out because there is no time to proper develop new relationships, even tho it would be more interesting. But again, that would mean the show would have to give us more episodes, which is unfortunately not the case.

So you see, I just don't think Robin would have acted the way she did around Nancy based on the character traits she displayed in s3. Furthermore, I will bring up Steve, which is a sensitive topic when it comes to Ronance. I don't want to come off as someone who in general makes a lesbian/sapphic relationship about a man's feelings, however because Steve has history with both girls I can't ignore him because Robin wouldn't either.

A little bit of background of Robin prior to meeting Nancy:

In s3, Robin couldn't stand Steve, and later, we found out why. It had mostly to do with her crush, Tammy Thompson, who had only eyes for him. Yeah, he was obnoxious, and Robin couldn't stand his smugness and arrogance, but the main reason was Tammy and her being kinda jealous of Steve in general because he had no problems fitting in. So she held on to this grudge against Steve for maybe even years. That tells us she doesn't forget when someone has wronged her and maybe, to an extent, her friends. Like she seems to be a person who has your back, no matter what.

Idk if you consider Rebel Robin as canon (I mean Maya narrated the podcast soo I mostly view it that way) but before Barb was Nancy's bff, she was close with Robin and later ditched her for Nancy. That in itself would leave a bad taste in Robin's mouth, and I guess she wouldn't be Nancy's biggest fan. Maybe that's why the priss comment in s3. Again, she had no problem disliking Steve because her crush liked him, but then she does an 180 with Nancy despite Barb being her actual friend leaving her for Nancy. Losing a friend to another person is much worse than a crush you never talked to, not liking you back or liking someone else.

But even if you ignore the Barb stuff and don't think it's canon, Robin still wouldn't be Nancy's biggest fan in the beginning and that has something to do with how Stancy ended and Jancy begun. You have to keep in mind Steve is Robin's bff, one if not the most important person in her life. He's everything to her she trusts him completely. He was maybe even the first person to know she was gay. Then why on earth would Robin A try to befriend Nancy, who broke his heart, and B trying to push her without a thought to get together with him again. It doesn't make any sense to me, based on how Robin was introduced.

Steve may have not any hard feelings for Nancy, maybe he only said positive things about her to Robin because he still views himself as the only person who fucked up in that relationship and not that Nancy was already in love with Jonathan for a while before things ended. Idk where you stand on the whole cheating thing, but it doesn't matter because rumors outside of the relationship would spread. Steve, the most popular guy in school, who is well liked, got left by his girlfriend of 1 year for the school freak, not even 2 days after a public fight. Like people would go crazy and Robin would have heard those rumors as well. You have to admit getting together with a new guy, not even after 48h is, I don't want to say weird, but not very cool, okay? Plus, Tommy would spread extra nasty shit because he hates Nancy and Jonathan and wants to hurt Steve as well. Robin would view her through those rumors, plus Steve having a hard time letting go, being heartbroken about it, there is no doubt in my mind that she wouldn't side eye Nancy.

Those two reasons, Barb and how Stancy ended, are the main ones as to why I think Robin was ooc for desperately wanting to befriend Nancy.

So the way I would have built up Ronance would be Robin being aloof towards her, and Nancy would have been the one who wanted to befriend her in the first place. Nancy never has to work for her relationships with others. People usually make the first move with her, so she never has to give much thought to it. Like Steve still loves her, Jonathan was ready to follow her wherever even if it endangered his family, and Fred followed her around like a lost puppy as well. And with Robin, it could have gone differently. Nancy should have made it her mission to make it up to Robin. Like she desperately wants a friend, she doesn't understand why Robin is being cold to her. By making her the instigator, Nancy would have to reflect on her mistakes and how she treated people, which would finally give her some personal character growth. Plus, it would have made the introduction to Stancy (romantic or platonic) way smoother and more balanced because Nancy never reflected on it. Steve's just available she doesn't have to make it up to him as well. Nancy never really addresses her faults in relationships, and the narrative in Stranger Things lets her off the hook every time. Letting Steve believe he was a terrible boyfriend despite liking Jonathan instead of him? No problem, no consequences. Steve still likes her. In s3 the show was again on her side when she fought with Jonathan by giving her the Karen pep talk, yes she apologized to him but she didn't understand his struggles really because she gave him the don't ever doubt me comment which kinda destroyed her apology imo. Furthermore, as soon as there was a rough patch in s4 with Jonathan, she expected him to come to her instead of going to him and fixing it because she has the financial means to do so, which indicates she still doesn't fully understand Jonathan's financial problems. Also, in general, Jonathan is terrified to tell her the truth, so he gets high to cope. It doesn't seem that he thinks Nancy is understanding.

Again, Robin could have been the person that would have made her realize wait, the way I take people for granted, and sometimes treat is wrong. Instead, we got yet another person instantly liking her and going along with everything she does, so Nancy never had to do anything for it, despite the obvious conflicts that should have arisen when they first met. But like I said before, the show doesn't have much time and focuses more on the plot, so there is no real development for characters, and everyone has to get along. I also think Stranger Things wanted a strong girl duo like Elmax, so they just threw Ronance together without conflict because they wanted to avoid drama, which would take up too much screentime. I can't emphasize the fact that Stranger Things suffers so much because it has too much plot and not enough time. Plus, I believe making Robin angry at Nancy on Steve's behalf would mean acknowledging that Stancy ended in a bad way or that Jancy maybe didn't have this cute start as a romance, but that would also mean recognizing Steve might have not been the only one who was wrong which is simply not possible. When s2 aired and people pointed out hey did Nancy cheat on Steve, did they really break up because a lot of people didn't view the fight in the ally as a break, especially because Nancy mentions she likes Steve at Murray's and Steve went to her house, the Duffers had to confirm it via interviews because I doubt they thought people would sympathize with Steve. Hence, why the narrative only blames him because they wanted the audience root for Jancy.

Long story short, I would have switched roles for platonic Ronance in the show. When it comes to romantic Ronance, that's mostly on the fandom. Everyone is allowed to ship whatever, I personally just don't think they are a good match. I don't see Nancy being patient enough with Robin's neurodivergent ways. She wouldn't handle her rambling over time very well. Nancy gets quickly irrated and snaps. Like Robin already felt the need to explain herself to her, making sure everything is okay because Nancy made her feel like her personality is too much and has faults, like her mom constantly tells her. Whereas with Vickie, she felt immediately at ease when they talked. More of that later. Robin is also poor, maybe a bit better off than Jonathan, but still, Nancy already doesn't get Jonathan's problems. Another reason is that because Steve is Robin's bff, Robin wouldn't want to date her all together. Like she sees Steve still likes her, she knows how much Nancy hurt him to a point that he is serial dating because he has like trust issues, that would immediately turn her off. Robin values Steve's friendship way too much than try to jeopardize it in any way. It's not like Steve wouldn't allow her to date Nancy, I think he would do everything to make Robin happy even if it costs his own happiness. Robin knows Steve. She would know that he would be hurt, and that's ultimately the factor that turns her off. Maya already confirmed that Robin values platonic relationships so much, so yeah. Just think about it that way. How would Robin feel if Steve suddenly would show interest in Vickie and starts dating her? That would be kinda fucked, same goes for Ronance, Robin knows Steve still likes her. I'm also a believer that you shouldn't necessarily date your bffs ex, it's just too messy especially if that relationship ended rather badly.

@findafight had this amazing post about one-sided Ronance, where they described exactly what I'm trying to convey. Nancy is the one interested, but ultimately, Robin declines because of her relationship to Steve. They also have several other posts about Ronance if you want to check it out. Another blog that discusses Ronance and has similar opinions is @thestobingirlie

What I dislike the most is that in Ronance, mostly Robin is only an ounce of her typical character. Her relationship with Steve is downplayed. She makes fun of him with Nancy, she lies to him about her relationship, even asks for sex advice in some fics which is just very weird and so ooc for her to do. Same goes for Steddie, as soon as either Steve or Robin go into a relationship both characters are so ooc, you almost don't recognize them, plus they only have time for their partners and their friendship gets sidelined, which again doesn't make sense for their characters. Ronance is also mostly beneficial to Nancy as it's viewed more how Robin can save her so she doesn't have to end up with a man. Hence, all the posts about how Robin is the only person who gets her, which is also such a shitty thing to say because both Jonathan and Steve were trying. Like Nancy's character development hinges more on her relationship with Robin than doing some soul-searching. Because for real, all her relationships so far are kinda meh because she doesn't know how to communicate properly with her partners, Robin wouldn't magically make everything better because she's a girl. Nancy needs to be single first and discover who she is without jumping in a new relationship. She needs therapy and has to work on her people skills to be a better partner for future relationships.

Also, so many people want Nancy to have a friend, and when Robin comes along, they immediately make it romantic. Robin can still be there for Nancy and understand her as a friend. I don't think she was romantically interested in Nancy in the show. She was actively pushing for Stancy. She only ever talked about being into Vickie romantically. Robin should be allowed to make a friend who is a girl without making it into a romance just because she is a lesbian. Lesbians can have platonic girl friends, lol. Fact is that so many see Robin interacting with a girl as romantic because she is looking at her and then ignore her real crush she talks about all the time.

Now to Rovickie and Vickie. What I meant with people not giving Vickie a chance because she's a girl and interested in a sapphic relationship is a common occurrence throughout fandoms in general. Guys are usually preferred when talking about characters or shipping. Girls have it so much harder. Like with Gareth, I don't think my comparison of him and Vickie was nonsensical or dumb. The fandom had no problems coming up with interesting headcanons for him, even outside the crackship. Almost all the hellfire boys, but especially Gareth because he's the most objectively attractive one of the group, got more love from the fandom. Vickie, on the other hand, is mostly used as the villain in Ronance fics, who is in the way of the main ship. People in general call her boring or too similar to Robin, which is insane because we have one scene where she rambles because she is talking to her potential crush. Also, being similar doesn't have to mean it's bad. Like I mentioned earlier, Vickie rambling is showing Robin it's okay to do so, which makes her feel immediately relaxed because she doesn't have to explain herself to Vickie. Not to mention the biphobia that runs through fandoms. The fact that Vickie had a boyfriend, who she broke up with, was enough. People usually headcanon Nancy as a lesbian than making her bi. Steve's only a bi icon when he's shipped with guys, like him dating a girl is seen as less valued or popular. Again, everyone can headcanon characters sexuality how they like, you do you it's just apparent that characters who are seen as bi are only celebrated for dating a person of the same sex.

Lastly, think about it if Vickie was a guy who was the love interest for Steve, there would be non-stop content for her. She would be well loved within the fandom. But Vickie is a girl, and if she were used as the love interest for Steve instead of Robin, she would also face the same scrutiny the already faces now. She's the villain in the way of ships because she's only a side character and not the full meal like you described. A male characters even with almost no screentime, will always get better treatment than female characters.

#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #anti ronance #steve harrington #stobin #platonic stobin #vickie stranger things #rovickie #rockie #stranger things #sandra says stuff #anon #anonymous #answered

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cumsuga · 4 months

Text

Wasted Times Pt 4

yoongi x fem!reader jungkook x fem!reader

genre. SMUT, fluff, angst, Romance, established relationship!AU 18+ (Minors DNI)

Who knew trying to stay sober would be so hard? The guilt. Everyone talks about how much guilt you experience when you cheat, and it’s always the guilt for cheating and regretting it. But what no one ever talks about is the guilt that comes from cheating and enjoying it.

warnings: mentions of alcoholism, violence (someone gets smacked *cough* Yoongi *cough*), Handjob, infidelity, plot twists on plot twists, Yoongi is not a good person ILTHHBIHTLH, Jungkook is the bestest boy as always, SUB!YOONGI but only for reader no one else

word count: 4k

A/N: I honestly feel like you can tell this was kinda rushed, but I felt bad for leaving you all hanging for an entire year. Please forgive me, I'll give you kisses! Anyway, GIVE ME FEEDBACK, but be nice cause I'm sensitive...

You spend the whole day trying to justify what you just did and with your boss. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. In fact, it made you feel how you felt when you drank. All warm and fuzzy inside. It was nice to have the feeling back, but you didn't know if it was what was best for you. You felt like Yoongi would be another thing you couldn't let go of. You knew you were fucked, and you hated it.

You watch Yoongi act like nothing happened, like he didn’t just fuck you in the back of a black car. He works like you’re more annoying to him now, being a bit more demanding. When you finally have a chance, you tell him you need to talk to him. He tells you in a minute and to wait for him in the green room before shooing you away. You don't think you've ever wanted to punch someone in the face so bad, but that was until you met him.

So, like he asks, that’s just what you do. After an eternity of pacing back and forth, trying to rationalize cheating to yourself, he enters the room. “You needed to talk. I’m listening,” he says, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the couch. He doesn’t let you sit, choosing to have you stand between his legs. “Talk to me, angel.”

“First of all, whatever you’re trying to do here, stop it.” you swat his hands off your thighs and take a couple steps back, “Second, what happened in the car can never and will never happen again. It was a mistake. After this discussion, we will never talk about it again. Am I making myself clear?”

He smirks at you. “Oh angel, you dim little thing,” he stands and walks over to you, “I can stop whenever I want, but as they say, ‘everything beautiful is ruined eventually.’” he tucks a loose strand behind your ear. “And that, my dear, is you.”

And with that, he walks out of the room. You’re left there confused because what the fuck does that mean? Did he just call you ugly and stupid? Did he say he’s going to ruin your life? The conversation left you with more questions than answers. So, like the hardheaded person you were, you follow after him. At this point, you didn’t care about your job; you cared about this getting back to Jungkook and destroying him. When you catch up to Yoongi, you whisper to him, “Unless you want me to make a scene and embarrass you, I suggest you get back in that FUCKING room.” Putting extra emphasis on the word fucking so that he knew you were serious. All eyes were on you two because, despite whispering, it sounded angry, so he obliges you and walks back. If it was one thing he hated, it was people staring at him like he was an object on display.

“1. You will leave this room when and if we come to a mutual understanding. 2. If we do not come to a mutual understanding, I will catch the next flight out of here, and you will never see me again. And you can explain to our company why I ruined such a huge event, and so help me god, if he ever finds out about this–” he cuts you off laughing

“PFFT! You’re cute when you’re angry.” he finally catches your eyes and sees that you’re not fucking around. You’re dead serious, and in his 30 years of life, he’s never been afraid of a woman like he is of you.

“Sit. Down,” you say through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring. And like he’s going to win an award for being so obedient he sits his ass right on that couch. “I’m not fucking playing with you, Yoongi. This isn’t a joke; this is my life. You can go on after this carefree because that's who you are. Rockstar Min Yoongi can do whatever he wants whenever he wants. But me, me, I have real consequences, I. Will. Lose. Every. Thing! I need you to get that through your thick fucking skull! THIS ISNT A FUCKING GAME!”

Tears are streaming down your face, but he looks annoyed now. That same stupid fucking face on his face. But you don’t know that Yoongi is in defense mode and will bite like most cornered animals. “Don’t ever talk to me like that. News flash, baby girl, I didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, so don’t try and get up on some fucking moral high ground because you have some boyfriend who, by the way, you treat like shit. You wanted to fuck me. I simply gave you what you’ve been dying for. You know, once an addict, always an addict, not my fault you traded in drinking yourself into a coma for dick.” And before you can even process what your body is doing, you slapped him. It wasn’t some bullshit “for tv” slap. No, it was loud. It had his ears ringing and your palm stinging.

“Don’t you EVER try and act like you fucking know me and throw something you know nothing about in my fucking face. You know what? FUCK you, I’m leaving. Good luck with your miserable life.” And with that, you collect your things and flee back to the hotel. Yoongi is left standing there in shock and awe.

When you finally return to the hotel, a million people set up a million things in the room. You put on a brave face while you bob and weave through what seems like an ocean of people. When you finally enter the private bedroom and hear the door close behind you, you let it all loose. Sobbing into the pillows. How dare he, you think, throw something so serious in your face. But fuck it, at this point, if everyone thinks you’re an alcoholic, let’s show them one. You open the mini bar and fish one of the bottles, and before you can crack the seal on the mini vodka, your phone rings. So you answer it, “Yoongi, I don't wanna-”

“Yoongi? Uh, no, it’s your boyfriend? Baby, are you crying?” as soon as you hear Jungkook's voice, you cry even harder. “Y/N? Baby, hey, hey, calm down. Talk to me, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

LIE! You tell yourself. Lie right now and save your relationship. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was just watching a sad movie, and it made me miss you, and then you called. It was like fate or something.” You sniffle into the phone.

“Oh, my baby. You’re so cute, I miss you too! Just 5 more days, and you get to come home to me.” He coos, and you instantly feel more at peace. Not taking that drink was worth it, and god, did you want that drink.

“Actually, I was thinking about coming home early, like tomorrow, maybe?” You say, still sniffling

He lets out a soft chuckle, “Baby, as much as I want you here, I think your boss would be pretty pissed if you just up and left. Stick it out like the fighter I know you are. You got this. I believe in you. By the time you come home, it’ll be a week before our anniversary, and I’ll take you wherever you wanna go. I already talked to Jimin and Yoongi, and we're taking 2 weeks. Just me and you. Sound good?”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful.” You sigh

“Good, now tell me, how’s Paris?”

You guys talked for an hour before saying I love you and goodbyes. When you get off the phone, there is a light knock on the door. “Ms. Y/N, we're ready for you at hair and make-up.” You tell them to give you a moment, and they say okay and leave. So, in that moment, you take all the little bottles of alcohol and pour them down the drain. You’re not going to leave Paris defeated. Especially not after everything you’ve been through. So you get glammed up and put your dress on. By the time you’re done, Yoongi is returning to the hotel.

While getting your hair and makeup done, you decide that you’re going to play Yoongi’s games, but they’re gonna be your rules. When he’s done getting ready, you pull him to the side and apologize for hitting him. “I understand if you want to part ways after this. I will exit quietly–”

He shushes you, “Oh Angel, though it pains me to say it because I never thought I would, I think I’m in love with you. So, with that being said, I forgive. I forgave you the minute it happened because I know you didn’t mean it.” He cups your cheek, and you lean into his palm. “You’re gonna stay here with me until I give you back to Jungkook. Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, nodding. He pecks you gently, and for a split second, you lose your resolve, but it’s quickly regained when he pulls away. “ I have something for you, Angel.” He says, handing you a small Valentino box. “You can tell Jungkook you got them as a gift from the designer.”

You open the box and see the nicest pair of earrings you've ever seen. They’re fully wrapped in baguette crystals. “Yoongi, I’m sorry, I can’t accept these. These look way too expensive.” You’re both in awe and annoyed. Why does he think he can buy your love? Could he buy your love? No! The only person that has your love is Jungkook, ONLY him. You only love him… right?

“Are you sure? I know they’d look beautiful on you.” he takes them out of the box and puts them on for you. “I know you’re wearing Versace, but people mix brands all the time, and I’m right. Absolutely stunning.” He pecks your nose and walks away to pour some champagne.

You watch him, realizing he never even apologized for not only calling you an alcoholic but a slut too, and a fire starts inside you. You’re determined to ruin Yoongi, make him miss the mere sight of you. “You know I can’t drink that, right? I traded alcohol in for dick, remember?” you say, giggling, but your throat is dry like you’re dying for that champagne. You push the thoughts away quickly. Flooding them with the happy life you want to have with Jungkook, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children.

“Oh shit, yeah. Fuck, I’ll pour it out. I’m sorry.” he moves around the room, collecting any type of alcohol and taking it to the bathroom.

“You understand that if you want to be with me, you have to stop drinking as well, right? Like it’s non-negotiable. I’m serious about my recovery.” You say, fixing the lipstick, he messed up. You thought, ‘God, I can’t wait to go home.’ You find it sad because you like Yoongi. You don’t know why, but you do. Maybe it’s because he is the complete opposite of Jungkook. He was crass, rude, and annoying as fuck, but it drove you crazy. He made you feel tingles all over your body, and you fucking hated it but loved it just as much.

“I know, baby, I just got excited. I’m happy that you wanna stay with me. Maybe you could—” he’s cut off by a girl bursting into the room.

“Baby!! I missed you so much!” she runs to him and kisses him. Yoongi goes sheet white like he’s seen a ghost, and you can’t believe your eyes. You’re astonished, laughing softly to yourself because, boy oh boy, he’s fucked.

“Princess, I thought you said you weren’t coming..” he looks over at you and then back at the mystery girl. She finally realizes you’re in the room and looks-* over at you like you’re the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen.

“Baby, who is this?” she looks up at Yoongi, then back at you.

“I’m Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi’s assistant.” You smile the most sickeningly sweet smile. If it’s one thing you know, many women were intimidated by you. I mean, why wouldn’t they be? You were beautiful, curvy, and friendly. As they say, bitches be hating.

“Well, I’m Hayoon, Yoongi’s girlfriend. You can go away now; he and I have some catching up to do.” She smiles back at you.

“Oh.” you pout. “Well, that's too bad. We actually have to leave right now. Valentino is starting soon. I could call and see if you could come? Though it looks like you’re not dressed for the occasion. Let’s go, Mr. Min; we have to be there by 5 for the preshow party.” You turn and leave the room. She starts complaining as soon as you leave the room, going on and on about how he needs to fire you for being so rude, and he argues back that she was being just as harsh and that she needs to stop acting like a brat or go home. She relents and he walks out of the room and collects some personal items.

“Baby, go to the house. I’ll meet you there later,” he says to her, and she pouts before leaving.

You two get into the car, and it’s awkwardly quiet. “So, I guess I’m not the only slut, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up. She’s not my girlfriend. We occasionally have sex whenever I’m in Paris.” he’s rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Does she know that?” you snort, and his phone begins to ring, “Oh, it looks like ‘Baby Girl heart emoji’ is calling; you wanna take that?” he sends the call to voicemail, sighing. “Just admit it; I won't tell her that you fucked me in this exact car yesterday, don’t worry. Admit it, and I’ll fuck you again.” you lean into his ear and lick at his earlobe, which earns you a low groan.

“Fine, fuck, fine, she’s my girlfriend.” he’s losing his patience with you.

“Mmm, such a good boy. Where’d you meet her, huh? How long have you been together? Huh, baby?” you palm him through his slack rubbing gently.

He’s beginning to fall apart. Although Yoongi’s never admitted it to anyone, just as much as he loves to be in control during sex, he loves it just a little more when the woman takes control. And right now, he especially loves that it’s you. “Fuck… I met her when I first moved from Daegu to Seoul. We’ve been friends since, but we’ve been together for 5 years… but I want you now..”

“Why does no one know about her, and why didn’t you tell me about her? You fucked me raw.” you’re unbuttoning his pants, slipping your hand into his waistband, and starting to jerk him in his pants.

“Someone does. Namjoon knows. He actually introduced us. I keep her out of the spotlight because she’s a non-celebrity. She would get too overwhelmed with everything, not media trained, ya know… Fuck… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom. Not even her, you’re the first person ever.” you hum into his ear, you can’t believe how easily he’s willing to give up this information. And he had the nerve to slut shame you. Madness.

“Wow, baby, you’re such a good boy. You won’t lie to me anymore, right? Is there anything else you want to tell me?” you feel him twitch in your hand. You know he's gonna cum soon, and that's precisely what you want.

“I have one more thing, but I can’t tell you right now… fuck.” he’s whiny, needy, and it's so cute on him.

“Hmm, I guess that’ll do for now. You can cum.” and he does, and there is so much you’re salivating. You want to do nothing more than to clean him up with your mouth but fuck him. He can clean himself up. So you wipe your hand on his shirt.

“Clean yourself up, we’re almost there.” You throw him a napkin before reaching into your bag and handing him a new shirt. You fix the little bit of makeup that was ruined, and he moves to kiss you. “Nuh-uh, don’t fuck up my make-up.” You push him away while the car pulls up to the carpet. Luckily, he’s cleaned and ready to go.

The night is hard to get through, to say the least. While you love fashion, being around people who are drunk or high or both isn’t really the best for someone in recovery. But you hold your resolve. You’re strong and will stay strong not only for you but for the man you get to go home to very soon.

Thankfully, the week goes by quickly. Of course, Yoongi tried to fuck you every chance he got, but you always found you’re way out of it. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with him; you just wanted it to be on your time, not his. Anyways, you’re finally back home. You decide on the plane ride home that you’re going to tell Jungkook what happened, you think that if you tell him now it’ll save a lot of hurt and pain for the both of you.

At this point, you’re waiting for him to pick you up from the airport. After about 10 minutes, you spot his black AMG. Relieved that you get to be in his presence again. He pulls up next to you, getting out of the car to help you. “Hi princess, I missed you. You look beautiful as always.” He kisses the top of your head before opening your door and helping you into the car.

“How was Paris, my love?” he asks, but you don’t reply right away. You’re trying to think of the right way to do this. To rip the bandaid off and tell the man you love you cheated.

“It was nice… Hey, Jungkook…. I need to tell you something.” you fidget with your fingers, ears burning.

“What's up? I’m all ears.” he chimes. He sounds so happy, and you feel so guilty for what you’re about to say.

“Jungkookicheatedonyou.” it comes out as one jumbled word, too afraid to even make it a sentence.

But he just chuckles a little, “I know.” he says, still in the same tone of voice. You’re startled. What does he mean he knows?

“You know?!” your thoughts are racing; you can’t believe what you just heard.

“Yes, princess, I know, calm down. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how I know. Do you remember when I called you the first day you were there? You thought you hung up, but you didn’t.”

“You're not mad?” your heart feels like it's going to jump out of your chest.

“Oh, baby doll, I was pissed. Naturally. Hearing the love of my life getting railed by some douche that calls himself a rapper. But I told you when you told me no the first time, I’m going to marry you no matter what. So I’m going to give you a year to get it out of your system, and after that year, you’re all mine. Does that seem fair? I do have a couple of rules we can discuss when we get home.” he laces his hand with yours and kisses it.

All you could say was okay, he was right it was finite that you were going to marry each other. It was too much work to start all over with someone else. You two rarely ever fought before your condition, so you were comfortable with him. You knew you never wanted a relationship with Yoongi. He didn’t know that, though. I’m sure he probably thinks you’re going to leave Jungkook for him, and he’d be absolutely wrong. You thought when you first met Yoongi you’d leave JK for him, but now, no. Yoongi is a terribly selfish person, and you’d rather be treated with some type of respect.

After what seems like forever, you two finally get home. “Go inside, I’ll grab your bags. We’ll talk once I get inside.”

He follows after you shortly and gets you all settled. “Sit on the couch, we’re going to have a serious talk, princess.”

So you do, and you keep quiet. Your thoughts are racing; you’re terrified that he’s lying to you. You feel like this is entrapment. You feel like Jungkook is going to use this against you, but in that same vein you know Jungkook is too soft to really be mad at you.

“So, princess, I know you enjoyed your time in Paris, but I have some ground rules.” As soon as he went to sit, someone knocked on the door. Jungkook goes to answer it and when he comes back to the living room Yoongi is in tow. You go white, terrified of what Jungkook is going to do to Yoongi. “He arrived just on time! Please, sit.”

“Jungkook what’re you doing?” You question, you’re trembling at this point.

“I want you to know that he knows that I know. That was a lot of knows, but yeah.” you’re dumbfounded, and just look at Yoongi because what the actual fuck is going on here. You feel like you’re going to pass out. This is a dream, a really fucked up dream. You’ll wake up soon, and everything will be alright, you think to yourself. Yoongi shifts in his seat, cheeks red and looking extremely uncomfortable.

“What do– There’s no fucking way. I’m dreaming. This is a joke–” You stand up and start pacing the room.

“It’s true…” Yoongi squeaks out, “He called me that day. Gave me an ultimatum… He told me I had a year to be with you, and then after that, I had to leave you alone, or he’d tell HYBE about us. I agreed..”

You’d never felt so confused and betrayed. I mean, sure, you cheated, but these two dickheads had conspired against you, “And what if I don’t want to do the whole year? What if I just wanted it to be a one-time thing? I feel like you’re pimping me out to my boss, this is weird..”

Jungkook just gives you a look, something you’d describe as hurt but understanding, “Okay then, tell Yoongi he needs to leave you alone. That you quit and that you want nothing to do with him.”

You look over at Yoongi, then back to Jungkook, and he implores you for an answer: “So are you gonna say it?”

“Well… what if I don’t want to leave him alone? What then?” Jungkook looks taken aback.

“If that’s what you really want, I will accept your decision, but I know that’s not what you want. You love me too much to leave me.” At this point, you’re sure Jungkook has lost his mind, finally fed up with your bullshit, but he’s right. You’re acting out because you’re bored with your life, like those housewives you see on TV. “Honey, I’m giving you a hall pass. Please accept it. I love you, and I want you to be happy. I feel I’m being more than generous considering.”

“Fine... What are your conditions?”

“1. You can see him 2 days out of the week. 2. You must use condoms and other contraceptives. I don’t like the thought of him cumming in you, and the thought of you pregnant by him makes my skin crawl. 3. If you’re with him and I call, answer unless you are… having sex…” He smiles at you, “I think that's fair, no? Also, I think Yoongi has something he needs to tell you.”

You look at Yoongi, and he looks like he’s going to throw up right then and there. “Okay? What is it?”

He’s quiet for a really long time, pulling at the skin on his cuticles. “Hello? You there? What do you need to tell me?”

He finally musters the courage to say, “I have a 4-year-old…”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

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credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers

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