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#like. we can ignore it and talk shit about but it's actually his fucking reality
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Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”
Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”
Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”
Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”
Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”
Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”
Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”
Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”
Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”
Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”
Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”
Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”
Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”
Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”
Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”
Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”
Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”
Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”
Charlie: “I like those-!”
Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”
Charlie: “Am I?”
Vaggie: “The one and only.”
Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”
Vaggie: “NO?”
Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”
Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”
Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”
Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”
Charlie: “Well what about someone who… is just better? At the whole. Everything.”
Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”
Charlie: “Carmilla?”
Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)
Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”
Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”
Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”
Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”
Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”
Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”
Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”
Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”
Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”
Charlie: “…..”
Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”
Vaggie: “No.”
Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“
Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”
Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”
Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”
Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”
Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”
Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”
Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”
Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”
Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”
Charlie: “WHAT!?”
Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”
Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”
Vaggie: “Charlie.”
Charlie: “-y, yes?”
Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”
Charlie: “…”
Charlie: “Susan.”
Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”
Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”
Vaggie: “I know!”
Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”
Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”
Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”
Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”
Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”
Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”
Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”
Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”
Charlie: (sigh)
Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”
Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”
Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”
Vaggie: (smiling)
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”
Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”
Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”
Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”
Charlie: “Mmrmph.”
Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”
Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”   
Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"
Charlie: "Maybe."
Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."
Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"
Vaggie: “Like amazing.”
Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."
Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"
Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”
Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”
Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”
Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”
Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”
Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”
Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”
Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"
Niffty: "Laser gun!"
Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"
Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."
Vaggie: "Instead of?"
Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"
Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”
Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”
Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”
Charlie: “-right. Okay.”
Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”
Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”
Charlie: “Oh.”
Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”
Vaggie: “I love her.”
Charlie: “I’m right here.”
Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”
Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”
Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”
Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”
Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”
Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)
Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”
Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”
Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”
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finexbright · 1 year
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#oooooh time for another controversial opinion#i get that babygate frustrates us and just puts us off and all that i get that i was there when it happened i'm still here i feel the same#but can we all just think. for once. that it's possible that it's harder for louis than it is for us?#like. we can ignore it and talk shit about but it's actually his fucking reality#and yeah he's rich and white and privileged but also like. this has so much to do about his mental health than all that#i get us being frustrated but i truly don't understand people getting entitled???? like you can't just end it with a click of a button#there's SO MUCH entangled in this#people act like louis CHOSE this like louis WANTED this and it's like. you're diminishing his brain and intellect to that#ending babygate will lead to a cascading domino effect of a lot of things. like it'll be the industry's biggest exposé#so yeah i just think that louis' doing his best and maneuvering it in ways that he thinks is wise#like you can't just be like ''so i'm not the father. also i'm gay. also fuck syco. fuck the industry'' without it literally shifting the#entire industry. like the entire band will be affected. even harry#so can we all just. for one second sit back and realise that LOUIS is the one who's actually dealing with this and we're just WATCHING it?#like this isn't our reality this isn't our life we don't know anything and can we at least give louis a bit more credit#than the rubbish narrative that ''he wants this'' like fuck's sake#babygate
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kaciidubs · 4 months
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Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2
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❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1
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It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.
You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.
He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?
He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?
He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?
There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...
Unless.
"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.
Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"
"What?"
"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"
"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."
"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."
"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.
The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"
"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"
"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"
Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.
"I might have a crush on someone..."
"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.
"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"
"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"
"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"
"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.
"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."
"You little-"
"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."
"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."
"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"
"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"
"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."
"Lee Felix-"
"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."
"Would you please-"
"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.
The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"
"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"
"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."
Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.
The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.
In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.
Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.
"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.
You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."
He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"
"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.
Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.
It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.
Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?
"The big bowls, yeah?"
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"
You were in, deep.
You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.
"Here you go."
This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.
"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"
Normal. So very, very normal.
"You need anything else?"
Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.
He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.
"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"
The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.
"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."
"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."
Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.
This was going to be a long night.
It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.
The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.
This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.
Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.
"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."
"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.
"I always think of you."
His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.
I always think of you.
Always.
The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.
He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.
Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.
But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.
Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.
I always think of you.
It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.
"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"
He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."
Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.
Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"
"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."
"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"
"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."
Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.
Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.
Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.
Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.
The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"
"Yeah, you can come in!"
Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."
He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"
"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."
Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."
"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.
"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.
The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.
Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, always - what's up?"
Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?
You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.
"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.
Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"
"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"
"Did you think about me last month?"
His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"
The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.
"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"
Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"
His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"
"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"
The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.
"Come here."
Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.
"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"
You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.
He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.
When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."
Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"
"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.
Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."
The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."
Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.
"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."
He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.
However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.
Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.
"Off, Chris."
He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"
Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"
His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."
Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.
You know how this goes.
Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"
The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.
"That's my girl."
He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.
Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.
"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"
Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"
Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.
"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"
The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.
Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.
"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."
"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."
With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.
They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.
"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"
You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.
Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"
Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.
Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."
"Chris."
Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.
Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.
A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.
"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"
The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.
He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.
"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.
With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"
"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."
"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."
Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."
He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"
Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.
"Good girl."
Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.
In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.
He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.
"I'll go slow."
Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.
"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."
Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"
"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"
"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."
Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."
As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.
"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.
"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."
Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.
The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."
He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.
"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."
"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.
Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.
"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"
"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"
He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.
Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."
A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.
Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.
Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.
"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."
The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.
Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."
Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.
"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."
A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.
"Daddy!"
There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.
"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."
You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.
"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"
"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."
He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.
"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"
Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"
Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.
"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."
You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.
"'S too much, I-I can't-"
He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."
Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."
"Good, keep counting."
As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.
"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.
"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."
A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"
"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."
You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.
"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."
Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.
Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.
Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.
Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.
"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"
Oh, he was going to be the death of you.
Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."
You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.
"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."
Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"
He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."
A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."
With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."
Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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cynopcis · 1 year
Text
buy me coffee?
pairing: hq!atsumu x reader
Atsumus's eyes widen as he spots you through the window of the cafe you were supposed to meet at hours ago.
Classic atsumu, he forgot, again.
He frantically enters through the glass doors and removes his cap with shaky hands. he stands still in front of your table as you type in your laptop.
As he expected, you refuse to acknowledge his overwhelming presence, your eyes glued to your screen and your focus on him through your peripheral vision. in reality, ever since you saw his big coat briefly, you've already started typing incoherent sentences full of nonsense.
Atsumu sighs, he feels bad he does, he takes the seat in front of you and fiddles with the lid of one of the cups on your table. he takes note of its weight and how you probably ordered it for him, expecting him to come.
He tries to grab your hand but you slap it away. he flinches. you don't feel bad. he stares at you. you stare at him and sigh.
"We agreed to meet at 3:00 PM, as it was the time most agreeable for both of us, I'd be finished with classes for the day and you'd be finished with training, and you promised that you wouldn't do extra."
"I know, let me explain-"
"Shut up."
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose and type whatever on your laptop again. The screen is full of words made up of words stuck together to make incorrigible sentences. Somehow, it perfectly encapsulates the state that you are in at the moment.
click clack click
It takes you about 30 seconds to start talking again, Atsumu waits patiently, taking the hint that you want to express your frustrations first before hearing him out.
"My original goal was to finish this paper last night," you sigh, hitting the delete key multiple times, "but I decided that I'll finish it tomorrow since I wanted to look nice for once and not look like a walking zombie for today's date."
"You look incredible every day."
You ignore his flattery that tries to deescalate your bad mood, "And I made time because I really fucking miss you and I was actually going insane because of this stupid essay, and I spent half of my allowance on overpriced coffee for two but it went to waste because you didn't fucking show up."
"I can pay-"
You start keyboard smashing, "That's really not the point, atsumu."
click clack click
"The point is you have thrown me off the loop," your lips start to wobble, "I was supposed to finish this tomorrow but now I'm almost done with it AND we were supposed to have a nice date and take cute pictures but you decide to show up 5 hours later."
Corcodile tears start forming on your waterline. Alarmed, Atsumu stands up and kneels beside you, wiping away your tears with his handkerchief.
kendjwja delete sksjsjjajs delete owpwnsjriw delete disodbjwwj delete
"You didn't even text or call," you sniff, "didn't even inform me about this change of plans."
"I'm sorry baby," he takes your hand in his and rubs circles against your skin, "I've been so tired of training and helping Samu out in his shop that I lost track of the date and time. I know that's a shit excuse but that's what happened and all I can do now is make it up to you."
"But I'm tired too," you say softly, and it breaks his heart to see you slowly blinking, "but I still make time for you every day, I still squeeze you into my schedule. Stem is literally kicking my ass every day but I still do everything to compromise for you. Asshole."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pulls you in for a hug and plants a kiss on the top of your head, "I'll do my best to make it up to you, I'm sorry for not being the best boyfriend ever."
"Well," you say through sniffles, "it's good that you're at least self-aware I guess."
Click clack click
"Mhm," Atsumu stops your hand, "Stop that you might delete something important."
"Will you stay with me until I finish this?" you aren't really asking.
"I'll stay with you until class tomorrow."
"You'll stay over?"
"If you'll have me."
You act like you're thinking about it for about five seconds. In reality, you can't help but forgive Atsumu way before he even arrived. Your brain came up with multiple excuses for him all the while you're heart was starting to hurt really badly. You just can't resist.
"Buy me a coffee?"
"Of course," he loosens his hold on you and kisses your cheek, "the usual?"
"Yes."
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jjsmaybank20 · 4 months
Text
Celebrity News 2
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Jenna Ortega x GN!Reader
Summary: Once again, everyone thinks that you and Jenna broke up. In reality, you just wanted to cause some drama.
Warnings: literally all fluff, and my shitty writing
Word Count: 706
A/N: woooo part 2 cause I couldn't help myself. also, im back from the dead! for a bit. i have midterms right now which are whooping my ass so... wish me luck!
Part 1
navigation  celebrities (romantic) masterlist
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2,628,553 Likes
Y/N_Y/L/N: Sadly, after 1 ½  wonderful years, Jenna is not my girlfriend anymore. We are still on good terms, I promise, but I just thought I would let you guys know.
User57: WHAT?! THIS CANT BE REAL
User32: This is not happening. What the actual fuck.
y/n&jenna4life: No i refuse to believe this
arianagrande: I’m so sorry, Y/N/N!
jenniferlawrence_: dude that sucks! Hope you’re doing okay
>Y/N_Y/L/N: i’m okay, thank you for thinking of me
---
THIS IS NOT ANOTHER FALSE ALARM: ACTORS JENNA ORTEGA AND Y/N Y/L/N HAVE REPORTEDLY SPLIT
According to an instagram post Y/L/N posted last night, said actor and Wednesday star Jenna Ortega have split. A couple months ago, there was a false alarm in the end of the two’s relationship, caused by a hilarious dispute over a game of Monopoly. Well, this time, it seems that no one will be laughing. Ortega and Y/L/N are scheduled to be on The Late Night Show with Jimmy Fallon tonight, so maybe they will provide some insight as to why the seemingly perfect couple has split. 
---
“You guys are on in 5!” A stage attendant calls into the dressing room, prompting you to stand up at the same time as Jenna. You grab her hand and bring it to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. She smiles at you, blushing, before squeezing your hand and making her way out of the room. You follow closely after Jenna, excited to talk about your new movie with her. 
The introduction music begins to play, and you hear Jimmy Fallon calling out both your name and Jenna’s. Jenna walks out first, waving to the crowd, and you follow behind, buttoning your suit jacket and winking at some of the people in the  audience. 
As the two of you take a seat, Jimmy jumps right into the interview. He asks you questions about your roles, and just about the film in general. He also asks Jenna some questions about the second season of Wednesday. Finally, he gets to what he had been wanting to ask the most. 
“You guys were absolutely amazing in this film, but I have to say. It must have been difficult working together, at least for a little while.” Jenna gives him a confused look, and you fight the smile that is trying to make its way onto your face as best you can. “Why do you say that?” Jenna questions.
Jimmy gives her an odd look, explaining, “Well, because the two of you broke up, right? At least, according to Y/N’s Instagram post.” You still manage to keep a straight face, even when Jenna whips her head around towards you. “What the hell did you do, Y/N Y/L/N?!” 
You look around as if you can’t see her before turning back to Jimmy. “You know, sometimes I can still hear her, nagging me as if she were my girlfriend or something.” She finally breaks, letting out all of the laughter that she had been trying to hold in. Jimmy and the rest of the audience laugh with her, but they are clearly confused. 
Jenna rolls her eyes at you, ignoring your laughter. She turns to Jimmy to explain. “Ignore this little shit, they think they’re hilarious. So what happened is, Y/N is not my partner anymore.” Jimmy becomes even more confused, exclaiming, “So what is it?!” Jenna holds up her hand, revealing the glittering ring that you had purposed with only a short while ago. “They’re my fiance.” 
Jimmy gasps, not expecting this at all. “Oh my god! Congratulations!” You have finally recovered from your amusement, and you thank the man for his kind words. As soon as you fully sit up, Jenna smacks the back of your head. You wrap up the interview, and you and Jenna head home.
As you get ready for bed that night, Jenna turns to you. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that?” You just grin at her, replying, “But you love it. You love me.” Jenna can’t help but smile at you. “Fine. I do love you. So much.” She presses a kiss to your lips before heading into the bathroom. You just stand there in your room smiling. Life couldn’t get much better than this.
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@lovelyy-moonlight @pnsteblnme @MrsLillithy @alotofpockets @theenglishswiftie @tundra1029 @ampitrit3 @didyoubringauntienat @jensortega813 @ortegalvr
Join my taglist!
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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months
Text
> Saturn ASPECTS < and why you ain't getting the respect you deserve Saturn puts you in shitty cycles/ patterns to make you; by breaking you > and when you inevitably return to these struggles, you'll realise you've mastered his circuits
yes i had break, im back now. so get over it.
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Saturn aspecting Sun - loosen up. but everytime you do, something else fucks up. so now your the most rigid person. its hard to have a good time with yall, because you take things so seriously, but damn do you exceed when shit needs to be taken seriously - because your so careful in your movements 🚶‍♂️. they tend to have a habit of stating the obvious then smirking about it, which is so confusing because like we all knew that, but why you acting like you did something? this type of shit is why people struggle to chill around you, but ill ask for your advice about real shit because your obsessed with being an authority and like thats the only way to approach you guys without getting iced by you Saturn aspecting Moon - Stop crying. oh wait i meant to say; start crying. jesus you got some fucked up villainous back story but your stone walling everyone because it hurts too much to even open up to anyone. because i mean whats the point? if everyone is just going to tell you "its going to be okay" when you never feel okay. feels bad man, and you know better than most how bad feels.. man.. so i guess saturn wants you to accept how cruel the world is, and how that affects everyone, so you are more prepared for bad circumstances then most. hardly a positive spin, ik.. but its to prepare you for your future. and you have no idea why you must go through so much pain - but there is a reason, and it will become clear later, so better utilize that energy to your benefit; because its just another one of saturns bitch cycles
Saturn aspecting Mercury - when you speak, people try there best to one up you, but your a master at it by now > passive aggressive, or authoritative - who gives a fuck if you belittle the other person, because i mean if your right, then you right. so better off writing it into reality, rather than watch everyone clown around with the wrong answers. but speaking ths way to others, really does make it hard to talk to you, even if you right, your just a fkn asshole. so honestyl. stop trying to figure out the right answer, and think about whats the right thing to say. stop pretending to be an authoritative speaker if no one even wanna listen to you, and start owning what you say more. Saturn aspecting Venus - joecly flores on repeat. okay i get it. you dont believe in love, because you see it how it is. well. its not actually how it is. youve ruined all your chances of anyone ever gonna love you because you think being all cold and mysterious is attractive (and it can be) but i mean who tf wanna love someone like that. its like riding a bike uphill. i mean i dont wanna do that. like these people are always attractive, but their attitude is so hard to ignore, its like trynna make a spider smile. thats why people reject you more than anythng else. and Ik that your just trying to find the real ones, but guess what, everyone that ever talked to you/ flirted with you, liked you.... oh thats too shallow or optimistic? my bad Saturn aspecting Mars - I never do anythng right ;(((((( well you actually do a lot right, but your always doing too much. your so obssessed with perfection and being a high achever that you've forgotten everything you've achieved becayse your so focused on the next one. if you just reflected on how much you work; in comparison to most, youd realize you are big achiever, and you dont understand reality as well as you think. well okay you do undersatnd reality extremely well (because you try so damn hard lol) but you've lost your sense of self because you still dont think your worth it till you achieve the next thing- hence the cycle of working yo ass off - but hey you'll achieve a lot, you just need to perfect your perfectionistic tendencies -then youll finally be perfect! (get it) Saturn aspecting Jupiter - i think this aspect is one of the coldest. because these people try so hard, but get no where for the majority of their life. till they change perspectives and realize if they try harded else where, they'd get launched into success. i mean the amount of people who are successful - and i mean hugely successful > have this aspect - and everytime it was due to massive luck. however only they could grasp the 'lucky' opportunity, and that initself makes their achievements so much cooler than others. remember its jupiter, so all your 'hardships' inevitably become your greatest 'luck'. the white guy from 'sean of the dead' has this, and look at how much he impacted movies in general... jus saying mad props to that guy and to yall
Saturn aspecting Uranus - okay these guys are outcasted from society hard, due to some bullshit, but when they get recasted back into civilization they become someone who can change society at large- but its gonna take so much work... their perspective has been molded differently to most because they've been alone for so long. they have strange ideas that somehow work into tangible assets. perfect example : eminem - i mean hes basically best case scenario with this aspect, but hey why not try for best case scenario? but then again he made that hamster song... so i mean not always best case scenario... THats the price of neglect you could say lmao. Saturn aspecting Neptune - your imagination is your greatest challenge but also the key to your ultimate glory. like Michael Jordan had this aspect and well he was hella delusional. until he wasnt.... but its hard to say how much this benefited him... because both stages of his life - pre glory - and; glory - he was heavily isolated from everyone, and (likely) suffered in seclusion, by placing so much importance on his dreams. saturn wants you to master the 'spiritual world' i.e. imagination and dreams, and this causes anxiety that their dreams will just be dreams. which is what makes them put so much effort into it becoming real... then they realize the price of it all when its too late. so just make sure your aware of what your manifesting because if anyone can make it, its you. (achieving ur dreams) Saturn aspecting Pluto - how powerless do you feel. you do realize people can see how thirsty you are for respect/power, because they can sense your insecurity from past exepriences, and thats why your easy to play with. but do not worry. you will attain true power with enough effort. not just a bullshit image of power. because you've been pushed into the most vile trials to have ever have existed, and its only so that when you become someone powerful, you utilize your power properly, and do not step on others, because you know damn well how much it hurts to be stepped on. so your power is > saturn. your trials are so intense, and you're basically broken, but things that are broken know how to cut others (like broken glass). and well saturn wants you to master this > pluto > the darkness. and it makes reaching the top so much more palpable, because you'd feel like you earnt it. but you can make others insecure about what youve overcame so you better be humble, or saturn will fuck you. no honour among thieves, and we know you experienced that, but the kings play different, and you gotta adapt or saturn will flatten you.
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akoyaxs · 6 months
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˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna
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“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.
“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.
“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”
“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.
“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”
“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”
At that, you pause.
You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).
You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.
No. You don’t care.
It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.
You shouldn’t care.
But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.
“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”
“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”
“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”
“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”
“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”
“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”
Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.
You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.
You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.
You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.
You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.
Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.
“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”
Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.
“You need to leave.”
“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”
“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.
“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.
“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.
And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.
“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.
Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.
It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.
Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.
“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.
But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.
“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.
“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.
Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.
“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.
“I know.”
“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.
“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.
And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.
With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.
But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.
You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.
You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.
And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.
You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.
Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=
At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.
Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. 
You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.
“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”
He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.
“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”
You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.
“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.
“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.
“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”
You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.
You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.
Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.
Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.
It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.
And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.
And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.
He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.
You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.
It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.
Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.
It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.
And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.
There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.
Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.
It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.
Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.
It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.
And then it crests.
Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.
Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.
You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.
If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.
There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.
Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.
This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.
You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.
Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.
And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.
“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”
And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.
And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.
When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.
There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.
With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.
He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.
But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.
“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”
“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.
“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters.
That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.
WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.
This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.
WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.
The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.
FUCK HIM.
“Fuck you.”
The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.
“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”
“I’m sor-”
“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”
Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.
“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”
“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.
It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.
You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.
“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”
“Aonung I-”
“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.
Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.
“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”
Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.
“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.
“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”
“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”
“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”
Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.
“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”
“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”
“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”
And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.
“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.
“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.
“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”
There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.
“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.
“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.
His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.
When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.
But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.
As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.
Quite the victory it was.
Your tìyora.
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༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul - Thank you for being here and enjoying this story 💗 Also tagging @pandoraslxna @pandorxxx @hotdsworld @tojisun @xylianasblog @aperiraa @blue-slxt @theblueflower05 and @vivid-ink bc you are all my biggest inspirations and thank you for being such a big part of the avatar fandom 😘 Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃
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ellieluvr420 · 3 months
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We meet again, darling pt.5 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader)
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Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.
Abby sat at her desk going through paperwork, she had always been bad at letting it pile up and she had got even worse since getting entangled with you. She would try and focus on the words on the page in front of her but her mind would so easily wander back to you. Today was no different, if anything it was worse, all she could think about was your hands and lips on her, how you tasted on her tongue, your moans and your beautiful eyes that made her feel like she was made of glass.
After her stunt this morning you had stormed out of her apartment not before reminding her of dinner and her task for today. You threw a picture of Marlow down on the dining table so she would know what he looked like and you were gone with a slam of the door. Abby realised she was being a little optimistic to think you would stay for breakfast but she still felt a little dejected at your swift exit.
Her mind was snapped back to reality as she heard a door slam and saw Officer Williams walking up to her.
"That guy is fucking infuriating. Cannot get a word out of him. He's either been promised a big reward for his silence or whoever he works for is terrifying. I mean he's looking at serious time and fucking nothing."
Williams is standing over Abby's desk seething at her interview with Marlow and Abby is having to stop herself from laughing at the other woman's rage. Abby and Williams had never been friends but they preferred to speak to each other than the other detectives, no matter how many times they proved themselves the other men in their unit still treated them as inferior and they eventually got sick of it and stuck with each other.
"Who's that guy you're interviewing again?"
"He's the guy we brought in the other night, think he's connected to that gang we know fuck all about. God we know they're a thing but we can't find anything to actually nail them."
Abby feels herself smile at the thought of you, she shouldn't be impressed, you do bad things but she can't help her amazement at the way you run your business.
"What are you smiling about?" Williams is standing with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as she watches Abby zone out.
"Nothing, just imagining you getting completely ignored by that guy."
"Very funny. You're a dick. I thought once we got that informant we might have a chance to actually take this gang down but it looks like the informant is the only fucking person in the gang willing to talk."
"How'd you find the informant?"
"We arrested him, we weren't even looking for him, we were following up on a case from a couple of months ago and we caught him moving fuck tons of coke. He agreed to start giving names for a more lenient sentence."
"Right, how long has he been giving you names?"
"Couple months now, all of his names turned up shit for awhile but he's actually been useful recently."
"What so he's still on the streets?"
"Yeah, needed him still in the action to be able to give us up to date information. We keep trying to get him to give information on the boss but that guy must be rough because our guy doesn't want to give any information on him."
Abby feels the smile creeping onto her lips again but she forces it away this time.
"Are you sure he just doesn't know anything about who runs it?"
"He's got to, from what we can gather he's pretty high up."
Abby's stomach drops as she realises how right you were about the severity of the situation, she finds herself feeling glad that you are basically non existent within the records of the group as she realises how much of a risk this guy poses.
"Well if you want I can fill out that paperwork for you. I'm already catching up on all of mine. What's one more?" Abby realises this could look suspicious and panics as Williams looks down at her with a questioning look.
"Since when did you want to do me any favours?"
"Since I know you just got made to look like a fool in that interview." Williams nods her head and chuckles.
"Yeah, okay, thanks Anderson." As Williams hands the report to Abby her heart jumps a little at the thought of you being happy with her for finding out the informants name.
"Yeah no worries, I'll come find you when its done."
Abby opens the file as if she's handling a bomb and skims through all the information until she sees Ellie's scribbly writing detailing the information given by the informant. Then she sees the name 'Luke Whittaker'.
"Bingo." She whisper to herself and grabs a post-it from the pile by her computer. She writes the name down and tucks the post-it in her pocket and goes back to the report. She was so wrapped up in her excitement over pleasing you she didn't notice Ellie watching her from the printer in the corner of the room with narrowed eyes and a scowl.
Once Abby had finished the paperwork for Ellie she started looking for her.
"Hey, you seen Williams?"
"Think she's giving another stab at getting that guy to talk."
"Okay, thanks."
Abby walks to the interview room and goes into the room behind the two-way mirror. She stands and watches as Ellie gets more and more frustrated at the man's responses.
"Who do you work for?"
"Eat shit."
As she sees Ellie storm out the room she exits hers and they almost walk into each other with the way Ellie is storming out of there.
"Oh hey sorry, here's that report."
"Were you watching me?"
"Only for a second, wanted to see if you'd be long, would've just left the report on your desk."
"Right, okay. Well thanks for doing that." She doesn't look at Abby, just starts flicking through the report and walking away.
Abby thinks nothing of it as Ellie often came across as blunt, she walks back to her desk and grabs her things to head out for the day, as she's about to leave Ellie walks up to her again.
"Where you off to?"
"Home, going to dinner tonight so gotta scrub up nice."
"Dinner? With who?"
"It's a date, first time meeting her. Wish me luck."
Abby walks out the door before Ellie can stop her again and rushes home with only you on her mind.
As Abby exits the building she pulls her phone out of her pocket and clicks on your number. You answer in 2 rings.
"Are you about to make me happy?"
"Very. I got a name." She pulls the post-it out of her pocket. "Luke Whittaker."
"Luke?! Of course it's fucking Luke, I knew he was too much of a pussy but his dad has been with us for a long time, kept him in check, he died about a year ago so the timing doesn't surprise me." You seem like you're talking to yourself at this point. "Thanks Abby, you have made me a very happy woman. I'll see you at 8." You hang up and Abby realises she's smiling at your words. Her mind is so occupied with you she doesn't notice Ellie's presence following behind her. As she walks away Ellie stays frozen in her spot until Abby can't be seen anymore.
"What the fuck are you up to Anderson?"
psa: hello againnnn, had to bring my wife into it, just had to sorry. Shit is gonna hit the fan. I have so many ideas for drama, writing this instead of studying for exams is my fav thing to do right now. Sorry if this felt like a filler chapter but this and the next chapter are important for the plot development. I hope you are enjoying the story as well as the relationship between Abby and reader (you).
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actual-changeling · 6 months
Text
@thegirlwhowatchedtv
Alright, I do not want to derail OPs original post, so I will make my own!
Disclaimer: If anyone tries to argue that something Aziraphale does "isn't that bad" or tries to blame Crowley for it, you will be blocked. I'm an abuse survivor and that kind of denial is not just disrespectful but also triggering to me personally, and I do not want it anywhere near me; I hope you can respect that.
Discussions and arguments are fine, abuse denial is not.
Disclaimer 2: I don't hate Aziraphale, none of this is hate, I understand he is acting based on his own trauma. However, none of that excuses his behaviour, and I will delete any and all responses that say something along the lines of 'his trauma means he gets a free pass to treat Crowley like shit'.
--
With that out of the way, let's get into it, shall we?
Yes, you’re right that he’s not fully listening to Crowley
This is the first point that is also the most important one. If we do not properly look at this, every other interpretation of what comes after will be (partly) incorrect. I have already written several metas about this, and I will do it again.
Aziraphale isn't not just "not fully listening", he is not listening period. He has not been listening to Crowley the entire season, and he sure as fuck doesn't start now.
but a large part of it is that he doesn’t even understand what Crowley is saying to him or why he’s saying it.
The fault lies by Aziraphale and Aziraphale alone.
"It's probably best if I start off doing all the talking and you do all the listening."
Crowley is telling him hey, I have something very important to say, and I really want you to just listen to me for a moment. Every single time Aziraphale wanted to tell him something, Crowley listened. All he is asking for is the same. But Aziraphale does not care about what Crowley wants to say and never has. From the second he enters the shop, he is not listening or giving a single fuck about what Crowley wants.
Aziraphale wants everything to be about himself; he is the most important being ever so Crowley needs to "hold his thought" aka shut the fuck up. Following so far?
From his perspective, he comes to Crowley with this huge offer that will solve all their problems, Crowley shuts it down, and then abruptly changes the subject.
Yes, that is indeed his perspective, and his perspective is 'valid'. However, it is so far removed from reality it borders on delusional and thus CANNOT be considered as an 'alternative' to what is actually happening here. Aziraphale thinking this is a problem, not an excuse.
Aziraphale looks baffled and isn’t fully listening in this scene because he doesn’t understand what any of this has to do with the Metatron’s offer.
Again, Aziraphale not listening is a problem, Crowley does not need to do anything different because the issue here is Aziraphale not listening. Aziraphale has NEVER listened.
The Metatron's offer, yes. The one he presented to Crowley not as an offer but as a decision he made for the both of them without asking Crowley if that's what he wants. He shows up and tells Crowley "I have decided that you will lose everything about yourself and go back to the place that cast you out because I want to try and change a system that cannot be changed. Your thoughts on this don't matter because this is what I want and I have decided you also want what I want."
Healthy much, huh? Fucking disrespectful is what it is, and Crowley would have had every right to punch him for this alone.
He’s anxious to get back to the subject of heaven because from his perspective, Crowley is ignoring what he said and refusing to engage in a discussion about it.
Aziraphale is a gigantic hypocrite and again, yes, this is his perspective, but it is NOT based on reality or in the least bit proportional to what is going on. It is NOT an excuse for any of his behaviour, it doesn't matter if that's how he sees things because the way he handles it is horrible and hurtful.
When Crowley puts his sunglasses back on and walks away, he tries to follow him and practically begs him to come with him, because at that point he, too, is panicked and desperate, and thinks that Crowley is giving up and rejecting him.
Aziraphale is not begging. Crowley was begging. Aziraphale is doing what he always does - he is trying to manipulate him. I'm tired of people not seeing that, so I will pull out a fucking checklist.
First point: He is making decisions for Crowley without allowing him freedom of thought or speech. Quite obvious, I believe.
"To heaven! Work with me."
Aziraphale is trying to use Crowley's attachment to him to make him forego his own boundaries and do what he wants instead. This is something he has been doing for centuries.
"We can be together!"
Here he is repeating what Crowley actively said he wants - he wants them to be together. Aziraphale is "offering" that without understanding the difference between their expressions of it. Another attempt at emotionally manipulating Crowley by pretending that he and Crowley want the same thing and that Crowley is being unreasonable.
"Angels, doing good!"
Same thing, trying to bait him with something that Aziraphale thinks of as the ultimate reward for Crowley, ignoring that a) Crowley does not want it and b) this is the climax of millennia of Aziraphale telling him he does not love him as a demon. So it obviously does not fucking work.
"I need you!"
Ahhh, classic guilt tripping tactic. Aziraphale is trying to make Crowley feel bad and guilty for not wanting to follow him to heaven, actively pushing the buttons he knows exist because he put them there. 'Rescuing me makes him so happy.' Aziraphale knows that and he is using that knowledge to get Crowley to ignore his boundaries and thoughts to come and 'rescue' him instead.
By now, Crowley is looking away and not responding to any of his manipulation tactics.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
I can't even begin to describe how horrible that sentence is. Not only is he completely ignoring Crowley's history of pain and trauma (that he never cared about and often doing the opposite by implying he deserved it), he is telling him that he is stupid and neglecting all the rightful concerns Crowley has had over the centuries.
His intention is to get Crowley to submit to him by making him feel as if he is incapable of making decisions for himself in this regard so that Aziraphale can make them for him instead.
If you can read this and not be physically and emotionally repulsed by it then I honestly don't know.
Crowley, who stopped when Aziraphale called and hates himself for it, finally responds.
"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
I'm my own person who understands this situation and can make decisions for myself.
It's the truth. Aziraphale is spinning lies, and he is trying to cut through them with the truth, but Aziraphale doesn't care.
"Well, then there's nothing more to say."
Besides wanting to have the last word, Aziraphale once again does what he did in episode one: my way or the highway. I will leave you or force you to leave me if you don't do what I say.
Just that this time it does not work because Crowley knows he will lose him no matter what.
They both also stubbornly refuse to understand that the other person would never in a million years go with them.
Crowley KNOWS that Aziraphale does not want to run away. He wants to keep Aziraphale safe, and in his mind, the only way of doing that is to get as far away from the danger as possible.
And I want you to actually look at Crowley's speeches.
EVERY SINGLE TIME he ASKS. He ASKS Aziraphale to run away with him, he says please come with me, he says I want this, do you want it to? He says I love you, I love us, I want to keep us safe, will you come with me?
When Aziraphale says no, he respects that. He doesn't try to manipulate Aziraphale the way Aziraphale is manipulating him - who also NEVER FUCKING ASKS HIM. He just assumes he knows what Crowley wants and decides for the two of them.
So why would he leave now that he’s being presented with an opportunity to fix things in heaven and protect the earth? Of course he wouldn’t.
He wouldn't. And that's the point. The only choice for Aziraphale is to go to heaven, and the only choice for Crowley is not to go.
There is NO version of this where they do not separate over this. Any version in which Crowley tries to follow him ends with Crowley dead and wiped from existence. This is the only way this argument could have gone because Aziraphale is currently incapable of making rational decisions.
but Aziraphale has no idea that’s why that happened to Gabriel because Crowley didn’t tell him
Even if he had Aziraphale would not have listened. Aziraphale has treated Crowley like fucking GARBAGE for centuries, never shown compassion, never offered a safe space to talk about all the horrible things that have happened to him. The problem is not Crowley not telling him, the problem is Aziraphale being so unreceptive and full of himself that Crowley COULDN'T tell him.
They’re both well-intentioned and terrified of losing each other, and as a result, they both handle this argument badly and lose each other anyway.
Handle this badly - there is no other option. Crowley is handling this as well as he can but Aziraphale is stuck where he is and needs to choose to break out of it. There is no version where this works out well. I am not misinterpreting Aziraphale, I am simply not excusing or ignoring all his unhealthy and maladaptive coping mechanisms and manipulation attempts like so many people seem bound to do.
I am so fucking tired of trying to excuse Aziraphale's actions as if this hasn't been his behaviour since Eden. Six bloody thousand years and he has not learned a single thing and still treats Crowley like shit.
Crowley chooses himself over Aziraphale for the very first time and I am so, so proud of him for that. I know how hard it is, and he is in so much pain because he loves Aziraphale, he doesn't want to lose him, but he loves himself more.
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lily-orchard · 3 months
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Courtney claims she kept accusing your father of enjoying hitting you until he stopped using spanking as a punishment. I don't know how true that is, but I'm wondering if there was any similar action taken to stop him spanking her. She claims she only got hit twice.
If Courtney ever stood up for me, she did it when I couldn't see it. My parents themselves make the same claim, that they supposedly argued about several of my suspensions from school. Conveniently, I was never around when this happened.
I only saw it happen once in 5th Grade when I was sent home, was walking home, and the principal was following me in his van demanding I get in (which is actually really fucked up now that I'm thinking about it, no wonder my mother screamed at him).
Other than that, I doubt Courtney's sincerity. The last time I was ever spanked was when I was eleven, because my father was convinced I had purposefully caused a burn in the carpet.
Ironically what kept Courtney from getting spanked was me. I didn't actively get in the way, just that if she did something that would have provoked violence or even screaming, my father usually just assumed I had done it instead.
The truth of the matter is that my father always had a scapegoat. Before it was me, it was my brother. He was ALWAYS getting into these petty power struggles with my brother that often ended in fistfights. My father raised his three children to be like him. So they were rude, they were nasty, they were combative, and reacted very poorly to other people pushing them around. And he was the one pushing them around.
Part of my father's damage is that his father treated his kids like shit on the basis that "It's my house and when you have your house you can call that shots." So he clearly looked forward to being King of the Castle. And when his children routinely responded very negatively to his "Fuck you I do what I want" attitude, in his mind a very personal slight had occurred because some unspoken deal had been broken.
I talked about this in the Turning Red video. Parenting isn't logical, it's ideological (did you like that sentence? I thought it flowed rather well). It's not about whether something works. It SHOULD work, and that's all that matters.
Spanking children SHOULD work, and if it doesn't you just didn't spank them hard enough.
Remember that guy who got so angry that his daughter complained about him on Facebook so he filmed himself shooting her laptop? That's the kind of nutcase we're talking about. Someone who throws a mantrum when a teenage girl bitches about him.
The reality is my parents wheeled me into every single doctor they could find trying to fix my behavioural issues. And it didn't work. Even when I saw huge progress in the inpatient facility, once I got back home I was right back to being rude and disrespectful.
Because the truth is no amount of medication or therapy is going to make you respect someone who has a completely unlikeable personality.
The core fundamental problem in the house is that my parents were complete cunts. And they wanted their kids to just ignore that and respect them anyway. But nobody ever respects someone who behaves the way they did. And no amount of demanding respect is going to warp reality and make you respectable.
You can yammer on about how you own the house and pay the mortgage, but children have no concept of what those are. What they do know is you're mean, so they don't have to be nice to you. Because that is 90% of the lessons we teach children.
But none of this computes to a man whose entire worldview is "He who owns the house is entitled to treat the occupants like shit." In his world, he was entitled to do these things, and you weren't entitled to complain about it. But we don't live in his world.
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sag3vrr · 6 months
Text
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY // matty healy x reader
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• a very happy birthday surprise!
• warnings : swearing
you groaned as you woke up — incredibly tired and pissed off at the sound of your phone ringing waking up. you were quite ready to ignore it, actually. yet, you saw matty’s name and the anger boiled away.
answering it, you put it on speaker and drop it on your chest as your head hits the pillows again and you stare at the ceiling.
he’s clearly more awake than you — “happy birthday, my love!” he wishes you down the phone, and you can only yawn in response.
“thank you,” you sigh.
“shit, did i wake you up? you’re normally awake by now.”
“yeah, but it’s fine. i should be awake, think i just overslept. i had a drink last night.” you rub your eyes, sitting up remembering drinking at least half a bottle of wine last night in the loneliness of your home.
“i’m sorry. are you doing anything today?” he asks.
“um… yeah. my friends said they are taking me out for drinks. it’ll probably be nice when i’m there but i’m so drained right now and honestly don’t want to go through the effort getting ready. and i wish you were here…” you backtrack, “that sounded selfish. i’m happy for you, you know that. i just want you all for myself sometimes.”
“i’m so fucking sorry i’m not there right now, baby.” he tells you.
“matty, it’s fine. it’s not your fau—”
“matty! come on, we need to leave if you want to be—” george’s voice springs up loudly.
“shit, okay. i’ve got to go. i love you, lots.”
“i love you too.”
“have something to eat, okay?”
“yeah.” you reply as best you can without sounding too sad.
the phone hangs up, and you feel as though you could cry.
eventually, after probably another hour in bed, you manage to drag yourself out, going downstairs to make some cereal and toast, eating it rather sadly on your couch. you avoid your phone most of the day, settling to watching films in the comfort of your pj’s ( technically, they were made up of your grey joggers and one of matty’s band t-shirts. but what can you say? you miss him. )
but once the film ends, you’re shoved back into reality with a firm shove of the credits rolling. they feel like a slap in the face.
when you finally do pick your phone up, you’re about to message your friends and tell them you really don’t feel up for drinks, but almost as if he’s telepathically connected to you, you get a message from matty.
“send me pictures of you later when you’re out with your friends. miss you xx”
you smile, and you don’t want to tell him you didn’t go out, because you also know he’d feel guilty more for being away.
you facetime him, hoping he’s able to answer.
he answers, much to your dismay with his camera off.
you look at yourself for a second, face scrunching when you see how tired you look. “fuck, i look like shit.” you laugh it off.
“you never look like shit, shut up.” his voice comes from the phone, and you feel yourself feeling a bit happier already.
“mm, also, why is your camera off? i wanna see you.” you pout as you walk your way over to the bedroom, and then the bathroom, deciding to get ready now so you wouldn’t be rushing later.
“uh…” he hesitates, “i don’t know, it won’t turn on.” you raise an eyebrow, slightly confused but ignore it anyway. “you doing your makeup?”
“yeah. i can hang up if you wanna do something on your phone though. just wanted to talk to you.”
“no, no.” he says a little too quickly. i miss you. it’s nice. feels like i’m with you.”
“god. when do you come home?” you whine, tying your hair up to finally sort your face.
he chuckles down the phone, “any ideas on what you’re wearing?”
“i hadn’t thought about that.” you rub the product into your skin, then rummaging around your drawer for what you need.
“well, i think you should check the top of the wardrobe, my side.” you can hear the grin in his voice.
“what did you do?” you put down the foundation in your hand.
“go and see for yourself.”
you leave your phone in the bathroom as you jog towards the wardrobe, opening the right door, seeing a bag on the top shelf you hadn’t noticed before.
pulling it down, you look in the contents, it was black fabric, and as you pulled it out it was a gorgeous dress.
“oh my god!” you exclaimed, loud enough for matty to hear, and you hear his laughter faintly.
you held it out, it was sleeveless and had a long slit in the leg. you rush to the bathroom, mouth agape as you look at the camera. “jesus, matty. it’s amazing. thank you so much. is this why you asked me to send photos? you were gonna tell me to wear this?”
his voice is sly, smug. “maybe.”
“i’ll put it on when i’ve finished my face and hair.” you smile, getting back to where you were left off.
matty stays on the phone with you the whole time, talking to you about what they’ve been doing, and how he’s definitely going to take you to this country when you are both free because he insists you’ll love it. and you probably would, from what he’s said.
after a while, you finish by using a claw clip to secure your hair back.
“you gonna put the dress on now?”
you nodded, walking back to the bedroom to pick it up from where you left it on the bed.
switching from your pyjamas into something else was a nice chance — it had been awhile since you got to dress up nicely and go out.
and it was simply beautiful, and looked better than you could’ve imagined on. you finish it off with sheer tights and your boots.
you feel happy, and you definitely feel hot.
on walking into the bathroom again, you put your phone in a better place, so he can see the whole outfit. you do a little 360 turn, smiling widely.
“fuck, you look perfect. gorgeous. i wish i was there right now.”
“thank you so much, matty. this dress is stunning.”
“you make it look better on, definitely.”
“what time is it?” you ask, picking your phone back up.
“6:56.”
your eyes widen, your friend who was picking you up said she’d be here at around 7, and all of a sudden you here the beep of a car outside. “shit, i have to go.” your quickly strutting back through, grabbing your bag and keys.
“okay,”
“love you lots, i’ll send you pictures later.”
“have fun, i love you too!” you hear him blow an exaggerated kiss, so you do the same, hanging up and shoving your phone in your bag.
opening the door, you’re greeting with your friend waving at you from her car. you jog over.
you have to admit, it had been a lot more fun than you earlier would’ve anticipated, but that was probably because of how mentally and physically drained you were.
it was nice to just have a few drinks, catch up with your closest friends and see how they’ve been doing — some you hadn’t spoke to in a while due to the boring, mundane adult life getting in the way all the time.
after a good few rounds of drinks, your group sat down at a table, chatting away about random things, the boyfriends, girlfriends, family life, the normal drama.
when out of the blue, one of your friends cleared her throat. “okay,” she reached her arms out over the table, holding both your hands. “we all have one more little surprise for you.”
“another surprise?” you smile, but confusion clear in your expression. “you spoil me,”
she pulls one hand away to check her phone, looks at the door, then at you.
following her gaze, the door opens when you let your eyes wander over there. then the door swings open.
what the fuck?
you cannot help but literally gasp out loud, as matty walks in. your eyes widen. he’s clad in his usual white button up and dress pants, leather jacket on top. his eyes are darting around the room, looking for you.
your chair squeaks loudly, yet you take no notice. you all but sprint over to him, and his face lights up as he sees you.
you cling yourself to him, holding him tightly. it’s all too familiar, a scent of vanilla and the faint but ever lasting essence of cigarettes. you’re hugging him tighter than you think you ever have before — making up for the 2 months you’ve been separated from him. he wasn’t supposed to be home for another 3 weeks.
“happy birthday, darling.” he whispers, hand rubbing up and down your back.
“oh my god,” you look behind him to see the rest of the band, including charli, standing there.
your too focused on matty, however, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “what the fuck are you doing here?”
“wasn’t gonna miss your birthday,” he grins, and you finally see the roses in his hand. “got you these on the way.”
your eyes are watering now, and carefully, you try to wipe it away without smudging your makeup.
he hands you them, “i’ve missed you so much. i can’t believe you’re here.”
his hand finds its way to your face, caressing and delicately wiping away stray tears. he leans in, and it’s an unimaginable feeling, you kiss him until you absolutely have to pull back, panting a little, him having quite literally just pulled the air from your lungs.
“you look even better in person.” he looks you up and down, “simply perfect.” he pulls you back for a hug. “my perfect girl.” he whispers, so quiet only you could hear him.
you quickly look up, thinking of something all of a sudden. “wait, is this why your—” you hold your hands up to emphasise the quote marks, “camera wasn’t working.”
“i didn’t want to risk it and spoil the surprise.” he shrugs, and you both laugh. god, you’d missed that laugh.
the commotion calms down, after some time, anyway. you’re sat at the corner of the table, head on matty’s shoulder, practically glued to his side the second you got over to him earlier. his hand on your leg, tracing patterns.
you feel a hand under your chin, the finger tilting your head up to look at him. you make eye contact, and then you’re in a short but sweet lip lock.
“oh!” he blurts out, taking you slightly by surprise. “i almost forgot—” he’s reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small gift box. “i bought you this.”
he opens it for you, and your met with a necklace, a locket, in particular, glistening at you. your hand is thrown over your mouth.
“i saw you looking at them before i left. thought you might like it.”
you pick it up carefully, like one careless touch would break it.
“open it.”
you click it open at the side, and your heart gushed at the picture in there, it was one charli had taken without you realising. your hand was in his curls, his on your waist as you kissed like your life depended on it. it felt so long ago but so recent at the same time.
“oh, matty. it’s—” you take a second, “i swear, if you make me cry again for the second time tonight.” you gulp, trying to stop yourself from being so emotional. dammed alcohol and it’s effects on you.
“want me to put it on for you?”
“please.” you turn your torso, facing your back towards him. he takes it from your hand, putting it around your neck, clicking it in. not without pressing a kiss next to it, and whispering one more declaration of love into your ear. you’re looking down at it, playing with it with your index finger. you vouch to yourself to keep it safe forever.
“how about i get you one more drink?” he suggests, as you turn back towards him. “then we can head home?”
you hum, “sounds great. how long are you gonna be here, though? don’t you need to fly back out? to finish all the interviews and all that you’re doing?”
“technically, i would have, but we’ve cancelled them.”
“what?” you spring up. “why?”
“i’m knackered, honestly. just need time home, just to fuckin’ chill, you know? and you, of course.” he steals another kiss, and the two of you really can’t get enough.
“now, that drink? what would you like?” he’s standing up, looking at you expectantly.
you rest your elbows on the table, leaning forward, pondering. “surprise me.”
he nods, giving you a small salute, spinning around and heading to the bar.
it’s significantly quieter than earlier. you don’t even want to know what time it is. you just know tomorrow is definitely being spent in bed.
he returns with two drinks. setting back down next to you. “to the birthday girl?” he holds his drink up.
“to us.” you state, clinking the glasses together.
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nburkhardt · 1 year
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Heyyy girlie!!!! Came to give you a prompt for you to try! Hope you enjoy this little angst fest.
Also to be very honest, I was listening to "Friends on the Other Side" as I was thinking about this prompt lol.
Steve gets cursed by Vecna and he is shown instead of horrible things happening to him and the people he cares about, he is shown actual events of people ridiculing and insulting him. Dustin calling him names, Robin shown distain whenever he talks, Eddie flat out ignoring him for DND, Hopper saying how he feels bad for Steve. All things angsty!
And Vecna says, "See? They don't care about you. But I do. You and I can give each other what we never were given - A true family."
And Steve accepts, while everyone is oblivious to what they have created.
Imagine the DEVESTATION when they all discover that it's entirely their fault Steve is now a puppet under Vecna's control.
You can decide the ending there!
Anywayyssssss, hope you have a good day!
(Also the prompt you asked is on its way!)
I want to begin to say that when I originally read this prompt I was dying. It was already hurting me reading this then i decided I could do it. I could write it out. But I went with Steve as a victim instead of puppet, thought that would also be so good. Like just imagine with me real quick before I get into the fic… maybe he gets infected by the bats and that’s how Vecna uses him and it isn’t until it’s too late for anyone to save him. OR OR Eddie becomes Kas and them along with Vecna is unstoppable because none of The Party wants to fight them. ANYWAY, onto the fic:
WARNING: Major Character Death, lots of hurt and no comfort.
——————
He doesn’t notice he’s cursed until it’s too late.
His hearing has been shit for a while, so hearing the clock ticking is too much like the nearly non-stop buzzing already in his ears. The grandfather clock is shown to him while he’s in the middle of looking around at the school. It looks like it belongs there.
The vision?
It’s his actual memories.
It’s reality, it’s too much, it’s draining.
An old memory of his dad calling him worthless, his mom pushing him away when he’s hurt and the endless babysitters that brush him off. There’s memories of Tommy and Carol hanging off him but putting him down for wanting to hang out just the three of them instead of a party with drugs and alcohol. There’s the “bullshit” and “you’re an idiot” from Nancy thrown in there.
The memories with Robin before they became best friends, memories of her making fun of him for another girl telling him no. The memories of all the kids putting him down or demanding things of him while calling him asshole.
The only reason he realizes it’s fake, that he’s one of Vecna’s victims is the quick fake-memory of Eddie. He doesn’t have many memories with the guy, he’s talked to him maybe a few times before this week.
The fake-memory starts with a promise of weed, of Eddie agreeing to meet him but it ends with Eddie laughing at him before walking away.
It’s then that he stops, the panic is still there but he’s standing still and slowly the area around him fades and in it’s place is the Upside Down.
“Oh Steven” a voice speaks up and he freezes, “Isn’t it time to realize they don’t care? That the love you give is wasted?”
He shakes his head, hands covering his eyes to think and wipe away the tears, the evidence of how true it is. He can’t move, he’s frozen and he feels more than sees Vecna come up to him.
Hopefully the others have noticed him, he thinks, hopes they’ll notice. They do care, in their own way- he knows this. Robin cares, says they’re soulmates.
She has to care… right?
(Eddie notices Steve first. How still he is and then he notices his eyes and it makes him freak. Robin pales when she notices and immediately shakes him, begging him to knock it off.)
There’s a noise, movement in front of him and he refuses to move his hands. Doesn’t want to give Vecna the satisfaction of knowing it’s getting to him. He’s fucking twenty years old, he can handle this. Max managed to beat him and she’s fourteen.
There’s a sigh, and it’s close. Too close. He feels something grab hold of his wrist and he shuts his eyes as his hand is forced away, “Steven, Steven, Steven. Why are you fighting? They don’t love you, they don’t care. With me, you’ll be cared for, you’ll be loved and away from all those who hurt you. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
He feels his wrist being pulled away, tries to fight it but Vecna or whatever it is pulling is stronger. He holds still and keeps his eyes tightly shut.
“My, my. You are stubborn, Steven.” Vecna lets out a cruel laugh, “Why fight me, you know you’ll lose”
Fighting is all he has. It’s all he’s known. He’s fought his whole life, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, it’s his reality. It’s who he is.
Steve Harrington is a fighter. Has been since he was a little boy. Memories of his dad yelling, of kid bullies and eventually his mother pulling his arms as he panics. Fighting is what he knows, just, he loses.
Losing is easy. Winning is hard and it seems, he isn’t supposed to be a winner.
Vecna must know this, because his arms are yanked down and it’s such a shock, his eyes fly open and he’s face to face with Vecna.
A vicious smile on Vecna’s face, “Stop fighting me, Steven.”
He shakes his head, ignoring the stinging of his eyes and the pain in his wrists. He can do this, he can hold off like Max did. The others should know what’s happening by now.
He isn’t weak.
There’s a hand on his cheek, it’s gentle and it hurts how much he craves it. Without his say, he leans into it. It’s been so long, a few tears betray him falling down his cheeks.
“With me, you’ll be cared for.” Vecna speaks out with a soft tone, something he didn’t think was possible that’s willing to kill anyone, “you’ll be loved and respected”
(Steve is floating, he’s floating so far up that no one can reach him now. There’s tears falling from his glazed over eyes. Everyone is screaming, trying helplessly to get to him.)
“come now, we both know you’ll lose.”
He’s not fighting the tears anymore, they’re falling freely and he wishes for someone- anyone to save him. Wishes to be stronger, be the person he always wanted to be.
But he’s so tired. He’s so exhausted and so fucking sad. Tired of being someone he’s not. Tired of ignoring the sting of words, jokes from his friends.
He wants, he wishes.
Wishes for exactly what Vecna is promising.
Blinking hard and he breathes, not fighting against the vines holding him now. Looks up towards the red sky, it’s scary.
It’s nothing like he wanted.
But he doesn’t know anymore.
“You’ll be okay, with me” Vecna says, it’s not a promise and it’s not soft. It’s sinister, it’s just a saying.
He knows and hates himself.
Hates how tired he is as he gives up.
He knows he’s a victim, a pawn in Vecna’s plan.
It doesn’t stop the relief he feels, even as he listens to Vecna’s sinister laughter at him.
(His arms are broken, Steve’s arms are broken. He’s still floating and his arms are bent in different directions. There’s screaming, crying and everyone is shaking.
How did they miss this? How did they not know?)
Letting go is the easiest thing he’s ever done. Even with the knowledge that he’s a victim and it’s disappointing to his friends, it’s letting the bad guy win.
But he’s tired, so tired.
There’s no pain for him, not anymore. With this he doesn’t need to try, doesn’t need to ignore the jokes or the poorly disguised mean behavior towards him. Doesn’t need to be useful to be around those he thought of as family.
He doesn’t need to fight anymore.
He can rest.
~~~~
The sound of bones breaking and screaming makes him want to run away. But he’s stuck in place, face wet with tears and his throat hurts from screaming.
He can’t look away.
Up in the sky is Steve Harrington. Floating much like Chrissy, eyes glazed over and frozen. The difference, tears are freely falling down his cheeks. His arms are now bent in different directions and he can’t look away.
He hears everyone around him fall down, sobbing still. He’d look around, but he can’t look away from Steve.
Refuses to look away.
Refuses to run away.
How did they not know? How did they miss this? Why didn’t Steve mention anything? What happened? How did this happen? How did his friends, his family not know he was hurting?
The sounds of everyone around him sobbing, the sound of Steve’s body break is making him wish to be deaf.
This is all too much.
This is too heartbreaking.
It feels like losing.
Hearing a loud crash, really sets reality in. They are losing. They lost the moment Steve stopped moving and his eyes glazed over.
It’s with that, that makes him fall to the ground with tears falling down his face. His gaze falling onto the pile of limbs that was Steve Harrington.
That was the man who willing to dive into Lover’s Lake to find a gate, the same one to bite a demonic bat because it was choking him, so determined to be the last one out of hell.
How did they miss this?
What are they supposed to do now?
————
I’m sorry 😭
I couldn’t turn it around, I couldn’t figure out how to make this with a happy ending. So I didn’t and it’s heartbreaking, I made myself tear up so much I had to stop writing the other night.
If you have any prompts or ideas, send them my way!
Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @harvesteee (if you want to be added, let me know!)
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i-write-boop-spoops · 2 years
Text
Guzma as an expecting father! headcanons
ignore the fact I'm a day late for father's day, it's dilf! guzma time!
features: pregnancy and discussion of symptoms, a smidge of angst, and some mild references to sex
Enjoy!
Oh shit.
Well, this wasn’t part of the plan
It’s not necessarily unexpected though
Admittedly, you two had been rather lax when it came to protection
And as much as he talked up his pull-out game, Guzma found it very hard to put his money where his mouth is when he’s about to bust a fat nut
So here you are
His baby
His fucking cinnamon applin
Almost in tears as you tell him that you’re pregnant
From all the shock, he doesn’t know what to say
He doesn’t know what to feel either
His mind is a swirl of emotions
It takes him a moment (or several minutes) to fully comprehend the situation
Not great, since you’re freaking the fuck out waiting for his response
Eventually, he just gives you a big, reassuring hug and tells you that he’s here for you, and your baby too.
In reality, Guzma likes the idea of having a family with you
And you’re his boo, he’d do anything to support you, no matter what
He really really wants to be a good dad
A provider for your burgeoning family
The kind of man you deserve
So first things first – well after he takes you both out for malasadas to calm yourselves down and celebrate - he’s gotta get a job
He’ll take anything
Fast-food chef, janitorial duties, cashier, Pyukumuku thrower…
Hopefully some professional battling to get some legit earnings
Next thing, you two are moving OUT of the Shady House
And by extension Po Town
That place is not suitable for babies
You don’t stray too far though
Getting yourselves a cramped (but thankfully two-bed) apartment in Malie City
Lowkey
And by that, I mean HIGHKEY
Guzma thinks you’re hot af pregnant
Man is like 100 times more handsy
Which is wild considering how handsy he already was
But his touches are a lot gentlerand loving
Though still quite protective and possessive
My man may or may not have shed a tear when he felt that first kick
Guzma goes back and forth on whether or not to propose to you
On one hand, he loves you, and he wants to give your baby a more stable home
But on the other, he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just doing this because you’re pregnant and it’s “the right thing to do”
Plus, weddings are so stressful
And expensive!
Eventually, he decides to wait until after your baby is here to propose
After all, they’d make such a cute little flower boy/girl on the big day!
God-mon Plumeria!
You two set up the cutest little nursery for youe baby
Ideally he wanted to fill it with brand-new stuff
But that wasn’t totally feasible, so many things are second-hand
Some from when you were born!
One of the new items though, is a cutiefly teddy
It was the first thing he bought for the baby
First thing he bought from his first pay-cheque actually
Walking home tired and stressed from his first week on the job
He’s usually pretty good at dealing with your symptoms
Gives you back-rubs, holds your hair back when you’re getting sick, over-indulges your weird-cravings…
Seriously he went out at four a.m. trying to find somewhere that sold pickled lumberries so you could have them with some yogurt and peanut butter
Though considering the fact he is new to all this + he has 0 patience things can get a bit hairy sometimes
Like he is not good at handling any mood-swings
Or when baby kicks him in his sleep
One thing he does enjoy about you being pregnant is that you’ve taken to wearing his clothes a lot more
They’re big on you, so they’re perfect for your changing body
We all know how he feels about you in his clothes 👀
He keeps ultrasound pictures on him at all times
Just as a reminder of his little larva
Makes the tough days easier
He loves being the big spoon even more now
Finding great comfort and excitement in holding you and cradling your bump while he falls asleep
When baby finally comes
Yall know ya boi is gonna be right by your side
Doing his best to support you through this traumatic, demanding time
(though I can also totally see him just chilling, casually eating a sandwich while you’re pushing out a LITERAL human baby from your bits)
Once baby pops out, and you get to hold your little one
Guzma wraps his arms around both of you, gazing at the wonderful life you’ve created together
And after a moment he asks:
“So, Guzma Jr.?”
“Absolutely not!”
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butchriptide · 2 months
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genuinely really frustrating that people will like. choose to accept the age mistake made in assassin as canon for deathbringer when it actively contradicts older material. like. sorry idk if this is me being unfair here but genuinely like. why would you think it's intentional when deathbringer is described in main series as maybe a year or two older than glory at most, and can canonically not be any older than 9 due to stated timeline facts in the main series.
like. I get not liking glorybringer, i really do. no ship is for everyone. hell, even if assassin specifically makes you feel weird about it, so be it, to each their own. i can undertsnad that too. and yes, the glorybringer fans who think the age gap are canon are also in the wrong. they're being really gross, i don't think it's necessary to disclaim that, that feels given, but like... that only comes to my point still of like, i really don't understand taking a spin-off as canon over the main series. i don't really understand prioritizing later content as canon as opposed to the main work over spin-off as canon. why should a spin-off take jurisdiction just cuz it's newer? i feel like the older the canon is, the more likely it is the newer stuff will make mistakes. to me, in the case of a contradiction, the main series should be taken to? a spin-off is meant to supplement the main series, so shouldn't it only supplement canon that doesn't contradict?
like also, i get being frustrated it isn't fixed, but also. like. i obviously have not worked with a publisher before, but if I was writing for fucking scholastic books, no matter how well fucking beloved my series was, I don't know if I could risk being like "hey. can you pull my books from shelves and e-stores for me so that I can edit one line?" Like. I really don't think there's any reality in which I can make a corporation agree to that kind of thing, no matter what that one line may fuck up about my main story. like it's not even the only mistake she makes in the winglets. she calls deathbringer a rainwing in the flip book, but we're not hailing that as canon in retrospect, right? I don't know. I think it's unfair to presume that she's choosing not to fix it as opposed to it being an improbable to downright impossible thing to ask of a publisher. like yes tui is an incredibly successful author but i really don't know if we can presume she has that much actual sway on her publisher.
it's just really exhausting as a deathbringer enjoyer to feel like if I want to talk about and enjoy his character, and yes, that includes context given in the assassin winglet once you ignore the timeline error, i feel like I constantlyyy have to be saying "yes I think the timeline error is an error. no i don't think deathbringer is 13." like. every time i bring him up. i'm a riptide fan I'm used to it but also it's sooooo tiring to go into a character tag for a guy i like and be swamped with hatred for him and it's so much worse for deathbringer than riptide because in the deathbringer tag I have to deal with being actively accused of excusing gross shit for liking him instead of people just saying that my blorbo is boring.
#by nightwings standards deathbringer isn't even a fucking adult. like even when I was first reading the books he never read as an adult to#me. and the assassin winglet only further adds to this for me not lessens. he reads so much as#teenager/barely in his 20s guy who grew up#way too fucking fast for his own good but fully buys into his own narrative that he's got everything sorted and together#the way the age system works as I've always interpreted it is that like. each age up to 7 covers a wide but decreasing number of human#maturity years every time and then slows to the years being one-to-one by the time they're 7#with 7 corresponding to 18#which makes the nightwings not counting dragonets as fully grown until 10 the equivalent to how 21 is kind of like being an Actual Adult#law wise in America at least i mean to say#deathbringer can't even legally buy beer yet is what I'm saying. some hotels wouldn't let him check in without an accompanying adult#deathbringer#misc#wings of fire#wof#sorry for complaining in main tag but I'm so fucking tired of being made to feel gross for liking a character over material that#no casual fan of the series is even going to know exists or read that is so clearly a timeline error based on everything in the actual#series that I read#does my joke about him not being able to buy beer make up for it#do you guys still think i'm cool#on the note of publishing too#there's no reason to think scholastic could even make it happen in a timely fashion even if tui did ask for the change to the books. like.#looking up working with scholastic reviews some of the most common negative reviews are about poor management#i'm not trying to white knight for her or anything i think she's a flawed human being like anyone else I just think if ur gonna critique he#you should do it about stuff that's like actually poorly handled in her series. not a timeline error in a spin-off. like. come on.
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tacagen · 6 months
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BY the WAY i want to talk about how thawne explains his feelings. i used to think he was being very open on that (i mean. to my schizoid ass that is because i wouldnt ever mention i feel anything when explaining my hatred), considering how he says barry hurt him not only to barry but to iris BUT. THIS IS THE ONLY THING HE SAYS DIRECTLY (i mean i remember him also saying 'before the pain of your rejection' to barry somewhere in the f*nish l*ne, + it's essentially the same point only clearer so wahoo, there is a progress! he also mentions that wearing the suit and bettering himself without barry to see it 'felt not enough' but those arent exactly on the same level of difficulty to realise and verbalize and most likely come directly from his time in therapy). everything else is just Implied. so my theory: this is the only thing he realizes and can actually formulate/admit about his feelings, either from therapy experience or reflection after the trip to 21st century which would still be based on therapy experience. this is why he says he will fix everything after barry defeats him for the first time. barry's authority confirmed by their otherwise perfect day together and him winning (+ probably the fact that it would be irrational to be mad at him for that. you can tell this mf rationalizes hard by his choice of words when he narrates his origin. 'better utilized as a teacher'? 'methods' about the shit he set up to pose as a hero? please he is so fucking detached from himself and especially the parts of his history that dont include barry directly. growing up in 25th century fucks you up in that way ig) convinces him that barry knows better and he suppresses everything and promises to become someone barry would approve of instead of whatever he is right now. he doesnt question barry yet but he also never understood what was so wrong with setting up those accidents, he doesnt see it as something bad neither that day which must've caused the fight in the first place or in his reverse-flash era when remembering it, he only refers to that as 'created opportunities', 'my methods, efforts to honor your legacy'. i think this whole period between the day they met and trip to the 21st century thawne straight up gaslighted himself daily that everything is fine and he isn't hurt, disappointed or mad at barry a single bit into not remembering/knowing what he felt that day and i fucking Know he is capable of doing that because this is the same man who dissociated from trauma into believing he was barry so much that green lantern ring indicated he was saying the truth about being him and do you even imagine how much it actually must've hurt for thawne to face the fact that barry didnt accept him and his 'ways of honoring and worshipping him' repeatedly (the day they met, cause of the fight and after the trip to the 21st century, rerealising he felt this way back then and that it was justified all along) after believing, dreaming for his whole life that he would in fact accept and understand everything about him because he never had any of those in reality and barry and meeting him was his only hope for that.
also the way thawne never shuts the fuck up? yeah, that's a defence mechanism. notice how every time negative barry says something hurtful to him, he COMPLETELY ignores his point and just changes the topic or starts up his usual bullshit again.
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the only time he does answer is probably the lightest for his comprehension because the thing barry threatens to do to him already happened once.
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and what do you know, it's also a coping mechanism! it's just more subtle and related to lying to barry and himself since we know his actual end goal here is only to spend at least some time with barry.
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feyhunter78 · 1 month
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Personal rant about an issues I’m having with my best friend under the cut, TW mentions of past sexual trauma both fictional and IRL
Thinking about how Alicent and Rhaenyra coded my best friend and I are, (minus the gay undertones) she’s headstrong, beautiful, confident, feels like she deserves what she wants no matter what and has no fear that her father won’t be there to catch her when she falls. But it makes her ignorant to the deeper plights of others and she lacks the knowledge to look further into things, and weigh her opinions and options before she speaks. She’s so strong and confident that she refuses to accept that her thoughts and opinions can be wrong, and she never does any research.
She was like “I’ve heard Andrew Tate talk some and I think he might be right” and I was like friend???? The man is a sex trafficker who has been quoted saying that women who aren’t virgins are damaged goods, and his OWN SISTER doesn’t talk to him. And she was like “oh I didn’t really look him up or anything” like motherfucker are you serious????
Then you’ve got me, quieter, more traditional, (still beautiful, but my goodness my best friend is a different level) always trying to do what’s right, do what I was supposed to do, trying to make sure everyone is okay, that my words and actions won’t harm and if they do can I take them back or make up for them?
I’m more agreeable, people see me as soft and kind, easy to talk to, but it comes with this guilt, religious, personal, social, whatever I’m always, always watching, always considering the other side because I know what it feels like to be powerless. And I do my fucking research because you have to know the rules!!!!
We’ve argued over TG or TB and she just refuses to accept that Alicent’s actions are motivated by valid reasons, that she was a child victim and was a victim until her husband finally died. She also blows past the fact that Daemon groomed and assaulted Rhaenyra because “they’re so hot” and I just???? I could not and cannot understand how she can overlook the pain and trauma these characters went through and act like it’s absolutely nothing.
Then we got in a bit of a thing because she got into booktok smut and I tried to warn her about the trigger stuff in some of the books and she’s like “oh it’s fine, yeah he like rapes her in this one part, but he basically makes it up with his words in the end” and I’m ????
Like yeah I like my dark stuff too but not a love interest who’s a rapist💀 there is no coming back from that for me????
And the fact that she just doesn’t care, doesn’t even stop to think about how her lack of care for the atrocities committed towards female characters in literally any media affects her is just so concerning to me. It’s like because nothing like that has happened to her then it’s not real??? Or it’s just like “not that big of a deal”????
Like y’all who read Pink Pastels know I went through shit, not a full assault but something similar that I left out of the fic because it was too much and I hadn’t really accepted what had happened. And the fact that what is it one in five women have been assaulted??? Statistically speaking she knows women who have been!!!!
So it makes me sick to my stomach that she’s so blasé about this stuff. To be fair to her, I never told her about it but I have now and I haven’t gotten a response yet so I’ll hold judgment until I do. (She hasn’t seen the Snapchat yet)
I just it really frustrates me because she is such a good friend outside of this stuff but she just lives such a different life from everyone else (her family is super rich) and I feel bad because I really want reality to knock some sense into her with a baseball bat. She just doesn’t understand that people actually suffer this stuff it’s not all just fun in games and ha ha giggles oh he’s so hot!!!
Like bestie I’m here, standing in front of you, asking if you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house (if you really are going to keep reading and flaunting your love of these dark, violent, terribly written books) while I’m trapped with your old ass father who’s been assaulting me and ignoring the children he forced me to have (carrying and trying to sort out the multitude of trauma from my ex) begging you to tell me that you didn’t and you still see me as your friend (that you aren’t a horrible pick me girl who doesn’t actually care about the pain and suffering women go through just because you haven’t experienced it)
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