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#but when its everything at once i am sincerely fucking struggling
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Everything everywhere all at once winning best picture and all the other awards makes me very emotional. From a representational standpoint yes. But I guess also from a filmmaker standpoint.
(I KNOW THIS IS LONG BUT IF YOU COULD READ THIS, THAT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD)
I’ve been making films for 10 or so years and for many years never saw much outward success. I would put my all into a project, down to hand making the sets, costumes, editing it myself (etc), but when I would submit to festivals for kid filmmakers, I would be left heartbroken sitting in the theater knowing that my film wasn’t good enough. That is had been too weird, not shot on a good enough quality camera, and that it simply wasn’t the “type of film” that could win awards.
Then enter this film. It marched to the beat of its own drum, it told a story that was authentic and sincere, it told a story about a Chinese immigrant and her family (A STORY WHICH RARELY GETS TOLD TO A MASS AUDIENCE IN MAINSTREAM HOLLYWOOD), it told a story about a queer woman struggling with family issues and depression and suicide, it gave no fucks, it gave them all. It was goofy. It was chaotic. It was heart wrenching. It was everything.
I’m a filmmaker, but I’m also sometimes a cynic. At times I am worried about the future of creative fields I hope to enter given AI threatening real artists, the increasing difficulty to break into Hollywood with no connections, and of course a litany of reboots, sequels, and franchises (not to say that this is bad, but there’s a tiny part of me that fears that this is all it will end up being. At least in terms of studio funding). I worry that while I may make films now, there may not be a place for me one day.
Seeing this film changed that. EEAAO was so boldly itself that it relit my creative spark to make work that would do the same.
And of course the awards. 
If you had told me a couple years ago that a film about rocks and hotdog fingers would win best picture, I would have been confused then probably laughed. Even as the award season beast was beginning to awaken from it’s year long slumber, I remained skeptical that this film would get awards, much less hundreds of them. Yet it destroyed the competition and with every win and every speech, my heart got a bit more full and damn it, I believed that maybe there was a chance this film could take the title.
Last Sunday, I wasn’t able to watch the oscars. I had just gotten over being sick and needed the sleep. The next morning I woke up and by some stroke of fate the people on the radio were talking about the Oscars, I held my breath, and I heard it. Best Picture Winner Everything Everywhere All At Once. I later watched the acceptance speeches that day and wept. This meant the world to me now but also to the me years ago who sat in those theaters with a broken heart thinking that their movies weren't good enough.
Now of course you can still be a cynic (or a realist who knows?) and assume that this changes nothing. No needle was moved. And next year the films getting awarded and produced with tons of eyes on them will be the next Green Book or whatever. But if this movie’s taught me anything, its that feeling optimism is ok.
And yeah given all it's wins, people are probably now gonna rag about it and say it's overrated. They can have their opinions, but I don't care. Like what you want to like, life's too short.
I’m gonna keep on making movies, the kind of movies I want to make not what I try to make to win awards or impress other people. I’m gonna try to be a kinder person. I’m going try to keep on telling stories of queer people, of found families, of hope, of comedy, and of whatever else I can think of. I’m gonna hope that people continue to create just as they always do and that this time they get the attention, platform, and opportunities that they deserve instead of it going to those who don’t.
Thank you Michelle Yeoh. Thank you Stephanie Hsu. Thank you Ke Huy Quan. Thank you Jamie Lee Curtis. Thank you James Hong. Thank you Paul Rogers. Thank you Jonathan Wang. Thank You Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert. Thank You Everything Everywhere All At Once.
You changed my life and countless others. Thank you thank you thank you.
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littlefoxwithbighat · 2 years
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hey dude
i'm sorry about everything you're dealing with. when i read your post i couldnt help but relate a lot. i've been the mediator/mom friend/therapist friend since forever for the people in my life and its fucking draining. i remember spending excessive amounts of time in middle school staying up on the phone with friends who would threaten to hurt themselves if i hung up or would only ever use me as a personal secret-keeper. i'm 19 and i don't talk to those friends anymore. my current friends have their troubles and i'm always happy to listen when needed because i feel like it's one of the only things i can do. on my own i have a lot of issues and i remember when i was at my worst all i wanted was anybody to either ask me if i was okay or to listen to me. sometimes what you really need is someone to wait out the storm with you.
there is something viscerally painful about knowing that you are always open for other people and will listen to them when they need but when you go to others for support or for someone to even listen they just back away or shut down.
people as young as we were should have never been put in a position where we would grow to feel responsible for others in that kind of way. i understand the feeling so much, as much as can be conveyed over a wall of text. i also understand the annoyance of people only seeming to take notice of your pain once it has become explosively unbearable and they can no longer pretend that you will heal yourself of the problems that others have given to you.
i am so sorry that this is something you are being forced to go through. your pain is real and i hope everything becomes easier. i also hope the people in your life will acknowledge what you do for them and will learn how to reciprocate the sympathy.
-sincerely, an anxious ghost
Hi Anon.
Sorry to hear that. I've had some pressure put on me via mediating but I've never had to talk someone out of hurting themselves;- I can't imagine how anxiety inducing and stressful that must be. I know you know it already but you should never have been put in that position. It was never your responsibility, and it's not fair.
I'm glad from the bottom of my heart that you've found better friends, who treat you more kindly. My friends currently irl are all also very kind and they all care about me, it's just hard talking to them when I need help and I tend to be the one who ends up helping all them.
And it's hard. It's hard being the one who has to pick yourself back up. But I guess a good thing I've learned from it is that I can pick myself up. I can save myself when I need to. It just sucks that I had to do it by myself back when I was struggling more drastically. I hope you have people who will pick you up now, it sounds like your new friends are maybe a lot better for that.
Thank you for all your well wishes and kindness and I wish the same for you <33. If you ever want to chat or talk about stuff with me you can always stop by.
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honeyrisuke · 2 years
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ok no turns out what im mad about and posted about earlier wasnt a big deep "modern media bad bluh" thing, im just. not feeling so hot rn
very long boring ramble below
I've struggled with my art ever since I started to put it online
like, I'd always refresh and check if someone saw it and then get all exciting when someone did see it and like it and so on but not even once have I had some art I did actually,,, do anything for me. it was never _worth it_ if that makes sense.
I'd sit there for hours upon hours and then post it in hopes someone else enjoys it and seemingly nobody ever does. I can spend days on a drawing and it barely even reaches my friends, and in old media at least I still had one or the other random
even right now on Furaffinity, which also isnt algorythmically sorted, I occationally get people who just like all of my stuff in a quite sincere way, or comment on my art in a genuine way- and that's why I've recently enjoyed drawing furry fetish art a lot more than anything else, even when I didn't wanna draw furries that day.
but on shit like instagram or twitter or even on here I've. I rarely even get one interaction?? on my art?? I've never gotten a comment. I've never had someone share my art on twitter or instagram because they liked it
and when I did get faves or comments it was always either an IRL friend of mine who'd like a selfie of me taking a shit bc they don't care, as long as I posted it, or someone I don't know who just wants to promote their own account
I've blocked people in the past who left a nice comment on instagram, and when i replied to thank them they immediately went for "would you mind checking out my page"
bc yea i do mind shut tf up
its. fundamentally uncomfortable to be in those positions. I don't wanna go around using other people as stepping stones to get anywhere. I don't wanna go around and put up this big professional influencer facade just so I can draw my lame fucking characters and have maybe 10 people like it
and no, I'm not talking huge numbers and wanting fame or whatever, just. something. anything.
I've grown to really really hate art communities, and that means whenever I sit down and want to draw I have to first fight a big "but what for?"
and most of the time recently? I lose that fight. I can't think of a "what for", and then I sit there for several hours slowly thinking myself into a rage instead of doing anything productive, because actually I'm also very upset about not drawing, but I can't think of a good reason to do it
and to anyone who says "just do it for yourself"- you know you're lying. I've never met an artist who said that shit to my face and didn't have at least one person they could share their art with
I'd just be out here sending it to random ass people knowing damn well I'm annoying.
art is worthless if it can't be shared with anyone. I really picked the worst fucking hobby as a child. I hate everything I do and I hate doing it
I was hoping to rekindle my muse with artfight but as for right now, it looks like I'm not even gonna get a single attack, and each time I sit down to draw I'm building my hope up again that "this time they will respond and draw something back to" just to sit here on the 31st with maybe one really crappy doodle made by someone who just wanted to get free art from me. and if I'm as stupid as I've been all these years, I'll even have given them that free piece of art.
I'm just. I don't know where to go from here and. not to be even more of a downer at the end of this, in case anyone actually did read it, but
I've. not felt so hot about being around anymore recently, and fundamentally feeling like I should stop doing at alltogether is a big part of that. I've always done art one way or another, and so far nobody has ever given a shit about it. I have genuinly no idea why I've done it for so long. but i feel like if i stop then I am doing absolutely nothing anymore. i wouldnt be expressing myself anymore, i wouldnt put anything out there anymore. id just be here locked inside of my head unable to communicate the things im passionate about because i KNOW im annoying, i KNOW im unbearable and overly aggressive and genuinly unlikeable, and i know nobody gives a shit about the stuff i like or enjoy. i already stopped being excited about things bc of that years ago and am now only defaulting to be pissed and to complain and to make fun of things
and i feel that if i fully stop drawing and making art its. kinda over. idk i dont wanna write it out but that'd be it.
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taetaespeaches · 4 years
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“I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex.”
yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.1K
a/n: ok, so, Kid is ready to give Yoon that good good just after hearing like half the mixtape, our girl hasn’t even seen the damn mv yet guys, like, she’s ready to pounce after just seven songs from her man. And honestly, mood. I hope you lovelies enjoy this, I hope it lives up to your expectations lmao, and thank you for reading :))
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YOU paced back and forth from one end of your kitchen to the other as you waited for Yoongi to answer his damn phone. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to pick up the-
“Hello?” Yoongi’s low voice interrupted your thoughts through the phone’s speaker.
Gasping, you eagerly asked, “Can I start listening?” omitting a proper greeting.
“Oh hey, I’m fine, how are you?” He teased.
You rolled your eyes, fully aware he couldn’t see you. “You’re expecting a lot of self-control from me right now, Min,” you complained.
Yoongi allowed himself to chuckle before responding with a humored, “if you want, you can listen, Kid.”
You squealed in excitement, bouncing around in front of the oven. “You’re sure? I don’t have to wait for you or anything?”
“Nah, I’m almost there anyway,” he told you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice he was grinning. “Just no music video yet,” he said in a whiny tone which you knew must be accompanied with a pout. He enjoyed watching your reaction to his music videos.
“No music video, I promise,” you smiled, absolutely fond of the man. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for this am I?” You yelled out, Yoongi scoffing in response.
“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” he groaned.
“Shush, I’m hanging up, I have a long-awaited mixtape to listen to, thank you very much.”
“Ok fine, fine,” he laughed, but before you could hang up, Yoongi added, “Hey, Kid?” You hummed in response. “Love you.”
You’ve heard the words a million times, but it never failed to make your heart pound. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him a bit. “Yeah, yeah, love you, I gotta go, priorities, baby. I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Agust D just made a comeback.”
He chuckled into the phone once more before giving you a, “See you in a bit,” and then hung up.
Immediately, you were pressing play on the mixtape on Spotify, already having had it pulled up for five minutes.
The first song, ‘Moonlight’, started off soft before scratching records came in, and then your boyfriend’s voice. When he gave his iconic laugh with an “August D” you smiled in pride. That’s my honey boy.
You turned your attention to the meal you were preparing for you and Yoongi, one of his favorites, stirring the contents in a big pot on the stovetop. Bopping along to the music, you listened to the lyrics that talked about his story, starting in Daegu to flying high with his group, how he goes through feelings of confidence in his work to feeling untalented, the struggles of writing this exact mixtape due to the pressure from a larger audience, expectations, and self-doubt. You knew those struggles all too well. You were with him throughout it all.
You’d been given glimpses of the songs throughout the writing process, some tracks in full while others you only saw lyric scribblings on those yellow notepads he leaves around his studio and that littered your apartment. You first saw the chorus to ‘Moonlight’ written on one of those notepads that sat on your bedside table.
“I like this,” you told your boyfriend, holding the notepad in one hand as the other found its way in his dampened hair, his face resting against your bare chest.
“Huh?” He looked up at you, his hand gripping your waist as his eyelids fluttered. The sheets were in disarray around your still nude forms. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, is it for D-2?”
“Maybe,” he told you with a yawn. “Not sure.”
“I think you should use it,” you told him, your finger outlining the shell of his ear as his lips curved into a lazy smile. “It’s beautiful.”
“You really think so?” He asked, uncertain and a bit more awake.
“Yeah, definitely.”
He kissed the center of your chest before nuzzling his face further against your breasts. “You always know best, Kid.”
You felt your eyes prick with tears as you listened to the song, feeling immensely proud of your boyfriend. Of how hard he worked, of overcoming the doubt and fear, and just simply for the talent, passion, and artistry he shared with so many people.
As the mixtape played, you went through phases of dancing around, squealing in excitement, gasping at lyrics and phrasing, and more bouncing and dancing. You tried your best to focus on the lyrics, though you knew it would take a few listens to catch them all as you were too excited to comprehend everything just then.
Completely invested in the music, you didn’t hear your front door open, unaware of your boyfriend’s presence until he appeared in your peripheral, catching you doing a little strut that resembled Yoongi’s swagger walk he did on stage. Your head snapping to him, you were met with his gummy grin, his shoulders shaking in laughter as ‘Burn It’ continued to play throughout the kitchen.
“Are you leaving me for Agust D yet?” He teased, walking toward you.
“Do you realize how sexy you are? Like do you have any idea?” You asked accusatorily. “Like what the fuck, dude?”
“Jesus,” he huffed, a smile still plastered on his face. “You’re actually ridiculous.”
“Yeah, and you’re ridiculously talented, Min. You’re not told that enough,” you told him seriously. Reaching you, he placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, stepping further into his arms.
“I’m told that plenty,” he dismissed with a bashful grin.
“No, you’re not,” you told him as ‘Burn It’ continued to play. Instead of responding to you, he kissed you which you immediately deepened, Yoongi stepping back a bit by the unexpected force behind your actions, though his arms wrapped tighter around your waist so your body was flush with his.
Pulling away, he chased your lips, making you smile. “I don’t even have the words right now to tell you how proud I am of you,” you told him seriously, tears forming in your eyes. You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, keeping his own emotions under control at your sincere confession. “Just know I’m really proud,” you said as tears threatened to fall.
He quickly nodded just before bringing a hand to your jaw as he caught your lips again, giving you several quick pecks as he composed himself.
Letting out a breath that sounded to be one of relief, Yoongi peered around your frame, inspecting the food cooking on the stove, as well as the food that had spilled outside of the pot, with a grin. “That looks good.”
“Hopefully,” you said with a smile as Yoongi nuzzled his face against your neck, refusing to let you go. With the overwhelming pride and love you felt, mixed with the fact that the man on the mixtape was all yours, and he was standing in your kitchen, in your arms, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you had a sudden desire for him.
As ‘People’ started playing, you were instantly struck with the memory of coming to his studio as he was working on that very track. It was just the instrumental then, but it was interesting and different from the other stuff he had been working on. Yoongi must have been thinking upon the same memory as he lifted his head, a gummy grin directed to you as his eyes found yours.
“I remember the night you wrote this,” you smiled, biting your lower lip. That night, you had spent about an hour of it sitting on his desk as Yoongi sat in his chair in front of you, his chin resting on your knees as you both discussed your ideas of life, and people, and changes, and what it all meant, if it even meant anything.  
You had already been dating for well over a year, but it was a moment where you and Yoongi felt a closeness between you both that hadn’t really been there before, becoming more mentally and emotionally attune with each other.
The conversation eventually faded out, the intense feeling of understanding between you both leading to you having sex on his studio couch.
“Trust me, I remember it very well,” he chuckled, his mind running through every moment of that night, from the feeling of closeness, to the warmth of your body underneath his as he pressed you against the couch cushions, the way you moaned his name and whispered ‘I love you’s’.
As the chorus of ‘People’ sounded from your laptop, your eyes widened at the sultry soothe of your boyfriend’s vocals.
“Since when do you sing like that, Min?” You teased with a smile, your eyes bouncing around his soft features. As he let out a breathy chuckle, you slid your your hands down his neck to rest overtop his collarbones as you leaned toward him and kissed him deeply.
The action took him by surprise though he easily found his rhythm, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, feeling at the bare skin of your waist.
As you began backing up, he quickly felt around to shut the stove off before following you toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your hands found his waist as his moved to your face, taking control. You began lifting his shirt up, you both separating just long enough for you to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere in the hallway outside your room.
Eagerly, you unbuttoned his jeans, Yoongi helping you get the clothing off him as he released his hold on you to step out of them. Backing up, your legs hit the edge of the bed and you locked your eyes with your boyfriend’s. Smirking at him, you pulled your own shirt off before unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.
Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes settling on your chest before slowly dragging them back up to meet your darkened gaze. Tilting his head at you, you quipped, “What are you waiting for?” Yoongi scoffed before approaching you and pushing your body so you fell against the mattress. He reached for the waist of your jeans, taking no time in unzipping them and tugging them down your legs, you lifting your hips to help him. Your panties were removed next, Yoongi dropping them to floor as he allowed his eyes to rake over your body, taking in every inch of you.
You sat up on your elbows, watching the man as he looked over your nude form. “For a man who brags an awful lot about being a king and a boss, you seem a bit timid, baby,” you teased in a sultry tone.
Your boyfriend scoffed again, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be patient,” he scolded, though he stepped toward you, nudging your inner knee with his leg, making you widen the gap between your thighs as he stared down at your center.
“My patience disappeared the moment I clicked play on that mixtape,” you smiled. “I want you.” With that, you sat up, your hands slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, lowering them until they easily slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. You kept eye contact with him as you left a sweet kiss to his lower abdomen, just above his pelvic area.
He let out a quick breath as he smiled, lowering his body on top of yours, your back meeting the mattress. “If I had known Agust D would get you this worked up I would have released a mixtape two years ago,” he joked, your hands grabbing onto his sides as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately.
One of his arms was being used to prop himself up overtop you as his opposite hand slid down to your core, his fingers feeling between your legs. He groaned into your mouth at feeling how wet you’d become, and you smiled against his lips.
Not wanting to wait any longer, you used your strength to push against his body, rolling him over and straddling his hips. Yoongi’s breath was heavy and shallow as he anticipated being inside you, his large hands gripping your hips, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your form on top of him. He always did love you on top.
Placing one of your hands to his chest, your other found his hardened length. You stroked him a few times, Yoongi letting out a soft moan at the feeling, his hand sliding up your abdomen to your breast as he squeezed the supple flesh in his palm. At his touch, you guided him to your entrance, sharply intaking breath at the feeling of him slipping inside, letting the air out in a throaty moan.
“Fuck, Kid,” Yoongi breathed out, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you moved your hand from his dick to his chest, bracing yourself against him as you began slowly grinding atop him. Yoongi’s hand left your breast to your thigh, clutching the muscle as he bit his lip, watching your body move. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You held back a moan as you increased your pace, looking up to the ceiling before squeezing your eyes shut as he hit particularly deep. “Fuck,” you breathed out, lowering your gaze to Yoongi’s face, meeting his hooded eyes as he looked up at you in bliss.
His chest was like velvet underneath your hands and you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. As if reading your mind, Yoongi moved his hands to your lower back, pulling you toward him so your chest was flush with his. He kissed you messily as he lifted his hips off the bed to move in and out of you as he held you to his body.
“I love you so much,” he confessed shakily against your lips, his breathing erratic due to the pleasure you were giving him.
“Oh my god, Yoongi, I love you,” you moaned, moving your face to his neck where you kissed and nibbled his skin lightly.
Wanting to treat him, you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, sitting back up as you rocked back and forth on him, arching your back and placing a hand to his thigh to support yourself. Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto the sides of your legs as he watched you, looking more and more fucked out the longer you rode him.
Eyeing his thin but toned body, his smooth skin, and the flex of his abdomen as he took sharp breaths, you groaned. “You look so good,” you told him, admiring the man beneath you. Your man. All yours. “Feel so good,” you moaned.
One of Yoongi’s hands left your leg to find your hand that was pressed against his lower abdomen. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly as he locked his gaze on yours.
The intimate action had your lower abdomen tightening. Sitting up straight, you brought your hand toward him which he grabbed with his other hand, helping you to support yourself as your motions atop him became hastier, approaching your high.
“Yoon, I’m gonna-”
“I know, baby,” he nodded, squeezing your hands as you neared your climax. “Me too.”
You let out a whimper, lowering your body to Yoongi’s again, your dewy chest meeting his, Yoongi wrapping his arms around your lower back as you both worked each other into your finishes. Yoongi buried his face in your neck as he let out small muffled grunts, you breathing out a moan in his ear. As he came, he hugged your body to his tightly, letting go inside you. The feeling of him releasing had you crashing into your own high, biting your lip as you moaned breathily, Yoongi kissing your neck sweetly as you came down.
You relaxed atop Yoongi, breathing heavy as his fingers toyed with the small of your back, soothing back and forth along the curve of your ass. You had a hand on his neck, slipping your fingers into his damp strands, your other hand on his chest, dragging your fingers along his pectoral.
“The mixtape is really good,” you assured him in a whisper, kissing his jaw. “Well, what I’ve heard so far.”
Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, flattening a palm on your lower back. “Thank you, Kid.”
“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest.”
“No, thank you for always supporting me. In everything,” he clarified, emotion thick in his voice.
You lifted your head to peer at his face, catching the glassy shine in his eyes. “Always,” you assured him.
He nodded, looking at you with a soft smile. “I know,” he whispered, barely audible, giving away that he didn’t trust his voice, knowing it would break if he spoke louder. “It means- you mean the world.”
You lowered your lips to his face, giving his plush cheek a small kiss. “I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex,” you teased with a big smile, Yoongi scoffing, though he couldn’t hold back his gummy grin.
He groaned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m starving,” he changed the topic, making you giggle.
“Well, lucky for you, your girlfriend made you a delicious nearly cooked meal that is probably very cold at this point,” you smirked.  
“Oh, lucky for me?” He questioned with a small smile.
“Mhmm,” you confirmed with a small chuckle.
Yoongi sucked air between his teeth, ticking his head to the side. “Remind me to wife you up later.”
You scoffed playfully, rolling off his body as you prepared to stand up and find some clothes. “In your dreams, Min.”
Scooping your t-shirt off the floor, you slipped it over your head before grabbing a pair of panties from your dresser drawer, all while Yoongi’s eyes followed your every move. Sending your boyfriend an air kiss from where he sat at the edge of the bed watching you, you walked toward the bedroom door. “Hurry up and get dressed, Gramps, I need your album commentary.”
You exited the room, turning toward the bathroom to clean yourself up. Yoongi shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, in my dreams,” he mumbled as he stood up to get dressed. Taking his sweet ass time, you walked back past the bedroom toward the kitchen, noticing him still stumbling around for a shirt.
“Hey, hustle, Min! I still have a music video to watch, my dude!” You called out to him as he looked to you with widened eyes. “Your shirt is out here, by the way.”
“Ah, what did I tell you about patience,” he whined out, a pout on his lips as he walked through the hallway, grabbing his shirt on his way, feeling full of appreciation and adoration for you.  
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jaskierswolf · 3 years
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😏 Hey, it's me, back again. On my knees, begging for more filth. I want some post mountain grovelling. I want Geralt on his knees. One of Jaskier's hands in his hair, holding his head still. The fingers of Jaskier's other hand in Geralt's mouth. <insert Gopher gif here>
Forgiveness
Not exactly filth? There is smut... but it caught plot. For those wondering... Jaskier's hair and beard looks something like this.
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Rated: E
Length: 2.5k
CW: dom/sub vibes, subspace, oral sex
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Fear was not something that Geralt was accustomed to feeling. The trials had made sure of that, but the trials were created with monsters in mind, not bards. There had been a time when being afeared of Jaskier would have seemed preposterous. The worst thing that could have happened was the bard getting too close to a fight and getting hurt because of Geralt, but even then, Geralt had never been scared of Jaskier, more scared for him. Losing Jaskier to the witcher’s way of life would have been unforgivable, so Geralt made sure it didn’t happen.
Jaskier was gone.
And yet he still wasn’t safe. Geralt had torn his own heart into pieces to keep Jaskier safe, and now fucking Nilfgaard was destroying everything. Rumour had it that the army were looking for Jaskier, looking for a way to Geralt and to Ciri. So it was time for Geralt to swallow his pride and make amends. He’d travelled to Oxenfurt with his young ward in tow to search for his dearest friend, the man he’d broken. Ciri had been a surprising blessing in his life. Just like Jaskier, she had brought light to his life when there had been none, and he was beginning to realise that isolating himself did not make him stronger. His friends, brothers, lovers were more deadly than any sword or sign. Alone he was just one man, motivated by survival and a sense of duty.
For Ciri he would tear down the Continent.
For Yennefer he would climb the highest mountain.
For Jaskier…
He sighed. For Jaskier he would break his own heart, and for Jaskier he would try to make it right again.
It was more terrifying than any manticore or griffin.
A knock on the door, that’s all it would take. Instead he was just lurking outside the office, an elaborate “Professor Pankratz” painted in fine golden calligraphy on the panelling. Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, every instinct he had was telling him to run, take Ciri back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and leave Jaskier. Surely no harm would come to him at the academy.
“Are you going to stare at my door all day, Geralt, or shall we go inside?”
Geralt’s eyes widened as he spun around to face his friend. He hadn’t heard Jaskier’s voice in years but there was no mistaking the lilting accent and the playful way that he spoke. No one else spoke quite like Jaskier. The bard’s voice may not have changed but Geralt was taken aback by Jaskier’s appearance. His hair, which had always been short and scruffy in the decades that Geralt had known him, was now long, the ends ticking just below his chin. The long locks were tucked behind one ear, and his fringe had grown out. But it was the beard that really drew Geralt’s attention. He’d never realised that Jaskier could grow a beard, he’d never even seen the bard with stubble before, and yet here was Jaskier sporting a thick beard that was as rich in colour as his hair, no sign of any grey despite his age.
He looked beautiful.
Piercing icy blue eyes burned with cool fire, and Geralt was reminded why this trip had worried him. Jaskier had been his most loyal friend, and despite his profession, the bard was dangerous. His tongue was sharp and his temper was short, for Lillit’s sake, he’d even tried to condemn a man to death with the blasted Djinn.
“Well? Come on, witcher, get inside or get out,” Jaskier said with the cool authority of the professor he had become. Gone was the eighteen year old fool that Geralt had met in Posada.
“Right, yes,” Geralt grumbled and stepped aside so that Jaskier could open the door. He trailed in after the bard, feeling very much like a dog with his tail between his legs.
“I never expected to see you at my door, Geralt,” Jaskier muttered as he busied himself around the room, sorting out his books and scrolls from his satchel, carefully placing his ink bottles on the messy desk, and shrugging out of his teaching robes.
Underneath the dark robes, he was wearing an elegant dark green doublet with matching breeches, gold thread stitching at the seams. To Geralt’s surprise, the bard's doublet was fully buttoned, hiding both the chemise and the mass of chest hair that Geralt knew was underneath the emerald fabric.
“I never expected to come,” Geralt admitted.
“Excellent, now you can leave again, it was good to see you old friend. Close the door on your way out.”
Jaskier’s words stung, a dagger between his ribs, poison running through his veins, but Geralt couldn’t give up, not without a proper fight. “I came to apologise.”
“Oh, ho, ho, that’s rich, witcher. What’s next? You’ll go and fetch your Child Surprise?”
“Ciri,” Geralt mumbled.
That seemed to have an effect, Jaskier froze, his back to Geralt. The bard slowly spun round and peered at Geralt. “So you finally found her?”
“I did.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jaskier sighed, pushing his hair from his face and scratching idly at his beard. “Did she mention me?”
“She did.”
“So, tell me Geralt, are you here because you want to apologise, or because the princess demanded it?” Jaskier’s tone was sharper than any witcher sword, this was the man who had destroyed a knight’s honour with a few well-placed rhymes and catchy songs just because he had insulted Geralt, and Geralt wasn’t used to being on the receiving end.
“Nilfgaard are coming, Jaskier. I couldn’t leave you in danger. They are looking for you, because of me.”
Jaskier scoffed, throwing his arms up, almost knocking an ink bottle flying. “Nilfgaard, wow. Yup, yes, should have expected that.”
“I’m here to protect you,” Geralt growled, “and- and because I miss you.”
“Miss me?” Jaskier hissed, stepping forward so that there was barely any space between them, his sweet chamomile scent now flooding Geralt’s senses. “You should have led with that, witcher.”
“I-”
“Fine, you want to apologise. On your knees, grovel. I won’t follow you blindly again, Geralt. I need to know you won’t hurt me. You want to protect me?”
“Yes,” Geralt answered without hesitation.
“Then know that no one on this Continent has ever hurt me like you did on that fucking mountain. Forgiveness will take time,” Jaskier said haughtily, and Geralt dropped to his knees. He finally saw Jaskier’s rage for what it was; a shield. Jaskier was trying to protect himself… from Geralt.
“I am sorry, Jaskier,” Geralt said, his voice shaking but sincere. “I only ever meant to protect you. I lashed out. I was hurting after Yennefer. I shouldn’t have said those things to you, but-”
“Hollow excuses.”
“But I was scared,” Geralt finally glanced up, and oh what a sight. Jaskier was looming above him, his hair almost coppery in the candle light. He looked like a messenger from the gods. “My life is a dangerous one. I fucked up Yennefer’s life with one breath, how could I possibly risk doing the same for you?”
“You already did.”
“But you’re alive,” Geralt whispered quietly.
“I would have rather died, Geralt,” Jaskier hissed.
“Don’t be so dramatic, bard.”
“If it meant giving up my life with you. Life with you was the greatest adventure, there was never a dull moment. I got to live every single day. Now look at me, I’m trapped in a cage without the best friend I’ve ever had,” Jaskier spat. “So you’ll have to do better than that.”
Geralt lowered his gaze once more. He was running out of options, but there was one more card that he held close to his heart, rarely even admitting it to himself. They say that love can conquer anything. It hadn’t been true for him and Yen, but perhaps the sorceress had been right and their love was just an illusion created by his wish and the spell she’d cast on him.
“I love you,” he whispered, loud enough for human ears to hear but still a quiet admission, one he’d never said out loud before.
Jaskier didn’t say anything. Instead, there was a gentle tug at Geralt’s hair as Jaskier pulled the tie from its place. Geralt stayed still, letting his words hang in the air. The bard’s fingers began to gently run through Geralt’s hair, each touch sending warm tingles down his spine, and he felt his breathing relax almost into a meditative state. Jaskier had done this before when they were on the path, braiding Geralt’s hair whilst he meditated, but this felt different, there had never been this spark burning between them before.
There had never been those words lying heavy on Geralt’s tongue before. “I love you, Jask,” he repeated, his voice more slurred this time and he felt almost as if he had been drugged, his head feeling foggy. The haze got thicker with every stroke of Jaskier’s hand through his hair.
“Oh, dear heart,” Jaskier cooed, his voice sounding almost like a dream. “You have no idea how long I’ve yearned to hear those words.”
“I’m sorry,” Geralt mumbled. “Forgive me, Julek.”
“In time, my darling, in time,” Jaskier breathed, his scent sweeter now, something akin to arousal. It was hard to tell through the fuzziness in Geralt’s head.
There was a low whine, that Geralt vaguely registered as coming from him. Heat was beginning to thrum through his body, and he slowly realised that at some point he’d shut his eyes, completely submitting to his bard in his attempts to earn Jaskier’s forgiveness. He felt Jaskier’s fingers cupping his cheek, hooking under his chin. Geralt whimpered as he struggled to open his eyes.
“There you are, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, “apology accepted, dear heart.”
“Jask…”
“I know, I know, I’m here,” the words washed over Geralt like a warm breeze.
“I- I- want…” Geralt didn’t know what he was asking for or what he wanted, but his head was spinning and suddenly the hand in his hair wasn’t enough. He’d gone so long without seeing Jaskier, and now that they weren’t together, it was like a dam had broken. All the things he’d been denying himself for years…
“Shh, Geralt, I’ve got you,” Jaskier hummed, and before Geralt could protest, he felt the press of Jaskier’s fingers at his lips. Eagerly, Geralt opened his lips, taking the digits into his mouth and sucking gently. He gazed up at his bard, drunk on the feeling of his own arousal.
Geralt had never seen Jaskier in his element at Oxenfurt before but the calm way in which Jaskier commanded the room was enticing. This was Jaskier’s office, his space. Geralt was the guest here, not the other way round. Usually Jaskier had to fit into Geralt’s life, but now it was Geralt’s turn, kneeling at the professor’s feet, a willing student, begging for another chance.
“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head so that his long hair fell in front of his eyes. “Do- do you want this?”
Geralt hummed around Jaskier’s fingers, nodding his head. It felt like a stupid question. How could he not want this? It was everything he’d never let himself dream of. He tried to say yes, but the word was muffled by Jaskier’s fingers.
“Gods, darling, you look so beautiful like this,” Jaskier cooed, and there was a sharp tug in Geralt’s head. He moaned around Jaskier’s fingers, vaguely aware that his cock was now painfully hard in his trousers. “That’s it, my love, sing for me.”
Geralt moaned again, sucking at the fingers in his mouth, enjoying the weight on his tongue. He’d never done anything like this before, but with Jaskier it just felt right. When he’d come to Oxenfurt he hadn’t expected anything like this to happen. He’d been praying to whatever gods were listening that Jaskier would forgive him, anything more than that had been an impossible dream. Geralt’s eyes fluttered shut and he hummed happily, shifting his weight until he was in a more comfortable position, the one he used for meditating. Like this, he could sit at Jaskier’s feet for hours should the bard wish.
But instead, Jaskier pulled his fingers from Geralt’s mouth. The emptiness left an ache deep inside Geralt that he hadn’t expected, but Jaskier’s other hand cupped his cheek, tilting his head so he was forced to look up at the bard. There was an undeniable fondness in Jaskier’s eyes, and between the beard and the extra weight he’d put on now that he was settled at Oxenfurt, he looked so warm… cuddly.
And Geralt wanted him.
“Can I- do you want my cock?” Jaskier stumbled over the words, a break in his previously mask of calmness. “We don’t- it’s just a suggestion…”
“Yes,” Geralt breathed, gazing up at the man he loved. In fact, he could think of nothing he wanted more in that moment. He swallowed, his mouth dry as he shuffled forward to nuzzle against the bulge in Jaskier’s trousers. Jaskier groaned as Geralt mouthed at his erection through the fabric. “Please, Jaskier.”
“Go on then, witcher, please me.”
Geralt’s fingers shook as he untied the lacing at the front of Jaskier’s trousers, and they moaned in unison as he finally took the tip of Jaskier’s cock into his mouth, the taste of precum bitter on his tongue.
“Gods, Geralt, I never thought I’d see the day…”
Geralt just hummed, licking at Jaskier’s slit before bobbing his head, slowly taking more into his mouth. There was another tug at his hair and he hummed, relaxing into his movements as Jaskier slowly began to rock his hips, gently thrusting into Geralt’s mouth. All the while, a steady stream of soft praises fell from the bard’s lips. Geralt had never felt particularly aroused from sucking cock before, but at Jaskier’s feet, the gentle words lingering in the air and the rhythmic touch of fingers caressing through his hair, he was closer to cumming than he thought possible.
He gasped as he pulled back, biting back a moan as he rested his head on Jaskier’s thigh. “I- Jask, fuck…”
“Shall I take you to bed, darling?” Jaskier cooed, gently pulling Geralt to his feet.
His legs were shaking and he fell into his bard's waiting arms, burying his nose in the crook of Jaskier’s neck. Geralt hummed as he kissed Jaskier’s neck, the soft bristles of the bard’s beard warm against his skin. “Your beard is soft,” he murmured, running his lips along the edge of the beard until they were ghosting over Jaskier’s lips, a tease of a kiss yet to come.
Jaskier laughed, pressing their foreheads together. “The luxuries of Oxenfurt, my dear witcher.”
“Smells good too,” Geralt hummed, finally capturing Jaskier’s lips in a chaste kiss. The bard moaned quietly and his fingers dug into Geralt’s side, pulling him closer. “Smells like home.”
After a few moments of being lost in each other, Jaskier finally took Geralt’s hand, lacing their fingers together and leading him through the office to the bedroom that lay beyond. They had a long way to go before Geralt was truly forgiven but this was a start.
This was their start, their new beginning, a new chapter in their adventure.
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babyybitchhh · 3 years
Text
Arlong x Reader 18+
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Rating: Explicit/R-18+
Words: 4,609
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, monster fucking (?), size difference, over sized genitalia and the buckets of cum to go with it, oral sex, fellatio, eventual consent
A/N: After consulting with my editor in chief, we agreed that the fishmen probably feel a bit like dolphins - firm to the touch but stupidly smooth, a bit clammy - so that's where my descriptive inspiration for this one came from. Y'know. Just in case anyone ends up wondering what the fuck I was smoking while I wrote this. lol And as always, please enjoy! : )
♥♥♥♥
Arlong was not what you would consider a nice man.
There was something mean about him, and undeniably so, but the way he crowds you against the wall late one evening still manages to catch you off guard. You’d thought you had already seen everything his cruelty had to offer. Foolishly, you’d believed that there was a certain line even someone like him would not cross.
Regrettably, you’d been wrong about that.
“W - what are you doing?”
“Don’t be coy.” He mutters while he idly, possessively toys with a strand of your hair between his webbed fingers. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this.”
The cloying stink of booze on his breath hits you all at once and you wrinkle your nose in distaste. You don’t mean to do it. You regret it almost instantly but Arlong doesn’t care for the why or the how, or the rushed apology already forming on the tip of your tongue. All he sees is the discomfort etched across your expression and his demeanor responds in kind, becoming surly and aggressive in the same moment.
With a rumbling grunt, he steps into you and bodily shoves you against the wall. The amount of force in just that simple gesture has you quailing under the imposing weight of him even as you start to shirk away. You think to bolt for safety a little too late and his clammy hand takes advantage of that split second indecision to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look at him.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Hm?” He curls himself over you, bracing his other arm high above your head on the wall so he can lean close and get in your face. You’ve never felt quite so minuscule as you do standing there, frozen to the spot and horribly dwarfed by the towering fishman who’s hacksaw nose was mere inches from yours now.
With each passing second, it was becoming exceedingly hard not to panic.
“Am I not to your liking? Is that it? You’ve really never thought about this before?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure what to say. You don’t know what it is he wants to hear.
Arlong doesn’t wait around for a proper response, though, and instead trails smooth, rubbery fingers down your neck to your shoulder, and then further still to grasp your wrist. You put up no resistance when he pulls, unceremoniously directing your slack hand to the front of his shorts and you jolt at the firm weight pressing up into your palm.
Sucking in a stilted gasp, your eyes go wide at him. “I - I haven’t - -“
“No?” He cuts across you with a faintly disappointed sigh. “Not even a little? You’re not at all curious?”
You whimper, shaking your head when he squeezes and manually forces your hand to close around the stiff outline in his pants. It was big and still growing, as evidenced by the eager twitch it gives at your touch. Shame immediately washes over you when your pussy clenches, the blood in your neck pounding as you try to turn away from him.
“Of course not, w - what would I have to be curious about?”
“You ever seen a fishman’s cock before?”
Your ears were starting to burn. “Nuh … no. Please, Arlong. I don’t - -“
“Come on. I’m sure you’ll like it. There isn’t anything else like it in the whole world, y’know. One of a kind.”
Same as before, he doesn’t give you a chance to sort through your thoughts before taking the incentive. His unoccupied hand drops from the wall and tugs at the waistband of his shorts even while he wrests your twisting hand where he wants it to be. You struggle wildly now, adrenaline fueled fear making you desperate and jerky, but he’s much too strong to break free from. You were trapped.
Horrified, you screw your eyes shut before you can catch a glimpse of what’s hanging between his legs. You’d never seen one before - not a fishman’s, and you would have preferred to keep it that way. The hushed rumors you’d overheard about encounters between people like Arlong and humans such as yourself were nothing kind, after all.
But with very little effort on his part, he clamps your hand into place and you go stock-still at the sensation of porcelain smooth, velvety skin under your fingertips. It doesn’t feel half as repulsive as you’d imagined it would. And, you’re surprised to find, it doesn’t look anywhere near as unnatural as you’d assumed it to be when you apprehensively crack your eyes open and glance at it.
What you had in your hand was just a cock. Nothing more and nothing less.
Albeit a rather large, hefty cock that was a slightly darker shade of blue than the rest of him but still by all accounts a normal looking appendage. If it hadn’t been for it’s unusual color and the staggering size, you could have easily mistaken it for a human’s.
Embarrassed, you flounder for something to say. “It’s … it’s rather nice, isn’t it?”
Arlong snorts and displaces a few of your wispy flyaways with the resulting puff of air, making you shudder between him and the wall. “Don’t try to bullshit me. S’not polite.”
“I’m not.” You insist, shyly forcing your gaze up to meet his. “I expected something different, that’s all.”
“Like what?” He murmurs as he leans his weight into you, not so subtly pinning you under him. You swallow hard, hesitant to say it. But either by virtue of being mildly intoxicated or genuine sincerity on his part, you felt a strange sort of inclination to be honest with him.
“Frankly, I thought it would be more monstrous.”
Arlong manages to catch you off guard again when he outright laughs at that. “Give it time. I’m not fully hard yet.”
Your eyes go big as saucers. “W - wha - -“
He laughs again, somehow even louder this time, and you start to quake with renewed vigor as his cock does indeed continue to twitch and grow in your hand. You couldn’t believe that it would get any bigger than it already was but the proof was right in front of your face. It was still filling out, becoming increasingly more weighty in your palm, and that knowledge terrified you far more than you were willing to admit.
“Don’t look so scared.” He coos, anything but sympathetic when he notices the obvious disquiet casting a shadow over your face. His suddenly good mood did not bode well for you at all. “You said it was nice, didn’t you?”
“Well … well, yes, but - -“
“Here. Let me show you something.”
Releasing his hold on you, Arlong clamps his moist palm down on the back of your neck and unceremoniously steers you forward, away from the wall. You don’t even think to fight it. And how could you when your fate was already sealed? You’d given him an inch by conceding that his cock was not entirely disagreeable and now he was taking a mile.
It was your own fault, really.
“Wait - hold on.” You stammer, panic suddenly creeping into your voice when you realize he was making a beeline with you for the nearest chair. “I didn’t mean it like that, Arlong! I just - -“
“You just what?” He sneers. “Felt like teasing me some more? Thought it’d be funny to tempt me with that pretty little mouth of yours again?”
You sputter in red faced affront. “I never - -“
Cutting you off yet again, he forcefully shoves you down onto your knees. Hard.
You seethe at the splintering pain racing up your legs as he pivots around you to plop down on the waiting seat, his ever present grip on the back of your neck quickly dragging you closer. Arlong’s anticipation for what was coming next was almost palpable, the eager excitement in his motions clear as day. In a last ditch effort, you try to twist away from him but he holds firm even as he works to tug his shorts the rest of the way down with the opposite hand.
“I know you’ve thought about this.” He says it again, breathy now, as if repetition would somehow make it true. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, sweetheart. There’s no need to hide it.”
Whatever biting insult you were going to spit at him catches in your throat and momentarily chokes you when he gets his pants down over his knees, cock springing up in all its full glory. You outright stare, your mouth going dry. Mind blank and pussy aching with phantom pain.
You weren’t sure what he expected you to do with it. He was far too big to fit in any human orifice, surely; but if he was at all concerned about the logistics involved he certainly didn’t show it.
Casually kicking his shorts off, Arlong plants his feet firmly on the floor and shuffles his long legs wide open to welcome you in. The heavy sway of his hanging nutsack seems to taunt you, silently promising a steaming hot load that you weren’t prepared to take. You audibly gulp down your nerves as he pulls you closer, right up against him until the sinfully smooth shaft of his cock is pressed tight against your cheek. It was hard to breathe through the potently masculine musk assaulting your nose and even harder to come to terms with the way your cunt gushes in response to it.
Why was this turning you on so much?
“Arlong … please!” You mewl, helpless to stop it when he relentlessly rubs his cock against your face as if to scent you. “Please listen to me. I never intentionally tried to tease you. I’m sorry …”
“Liar.” A sharp thwack against your cheek accompanies this accusation, the fleshy head of his dick leaving a sharp sting in its wake. “You want me. Just admit that. If you do, your punishment for being such a flirty slut won’t be so severe.”
You bristle at that, trying once again to recoil from him, but he merely pinches your neck even tighter to keep you in place. All you can do is watch in mounting horror as he takes his cock in the opposite hand and starts to pump it, slowly, as if to coax it that last little bit harder. The prominent vein running along the underside visibly throbs for you while he does it, pushing against the thin layer of skin in a rhythmic beat which probably would have flattered you under better circumstances. You hadn’t thought he’d get this worked up over you.
But, to be fair, you also hadn’t expected Arlong to be interested in a human woman in the first place.
“Like the view? You’re going to be a good girl and suck it for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Dazedly, you watch the steady up and down motion of his webbed hand until you eventually find yourself nodding along with it. You felt vaguely like an idiot for consenting to this but there was no denying how tantalizing he looked. For better or worse, you were willing to take the risk.
And that seems to amuse him a great deal, his raspy laugh misting over you even as he adds a twist to his pumping motion, tugging at the foreskin in the process. Scandalized surprise rushes to the forefront of your mind when you catch your first peek of the glans and realize it’s a blue so dark and rich it was almost purple. It’s such a stark contrast from the rest of his uniquely pigmented skin that you immediately want to see more of it, and you lean forward to get a better look with nothing short of rapt fascination. You’d never seen anything quite like it before.
“You’re that interested now?” He murmurs knowingly, snickering faintly under his breath.
“Only a little …”
“Liar.”
But Arlong’s tone holds no real bite this time, and he graciously gives you what you want by rolling the meaty tip back to tuck it behind the ridged glans. The blunt head is just as impossibly smooth as the rest of him, his skin entirely free of pores or blemishes, and so firm that you aren’t sure if there will be any give to it. You’re immediately reminded that you and him were not the same, the differences between you two as glaring as ever.
Without missing a beat, you decide you no longer care.
Reaching up, you carefully take him in hand and a thrill runs through you at the sensation. He’s every bit as silky as he looks but when you experimentally squeeze, it becomes apparent that he’s also relentlessly stiff. You’d thought, maybe, it was just the muscle bound parts of him that were as unyielding as they appeared to be but even this area was so densely padded with fatty insulation that it offered very little cushion. It seemed, then, that the only truly soft spot on his body was probably his ballsack.
Tentatively, you rove your gaze up to look at him. “Can I really?”
“I’ll be pissed if you don’t.”
You scoff, trying not to smile, but when that fails you lean up to drag your tongue along the throbbing vein and hide the curl of your mouth. A triumphant sigh puffs out of him, the hand on the back of your neck relaxing slightly, but he makes no move to completely let go of you yet. The weight of his palm spurs you on and you go up a little higher to flick at the glans, pleasantly surprised at the taste of him. Salty and strong, yet not repugnant. It was a heady flavor, one you’ve never sampled before, and you can’t help but wonder if this is how all fishmen taste. It was strangely intoxicating.
“There’s my good girl. That’s it.” He goads you, leaning back into the chair so he can fully appreciate the sight of you on your knees for him. “Is it as good as you thought it’d be? All you had to do was ask and I would have let you do this a lot sooner, you know.”
Resisting the urge to snap at him to shut up, you use your grip on his cock to angle the tip towards your face. The narrow slit in the center of that purple-blue bud winks at you, oozing a fresh bead of slick precum that glistens faintly in the overhead light. Sticking your tongue out, you lap it up with a hunger you hadn’t expected from yourself and a fresh wave of bitter salt swarms your tastebuds. You moan, very quietly, against the glans before sealing your lips around it.
Arlong’s lean thighs give the faintest jolt in response, his pelvis lifting just enough to nudge his dick a little deeper into your mouth. You allow it, for the time being, far too caught up in the exquisite taste of him to worry about his propensity for being a bit pushy. It was in his nature, after all.
But when you try to take more of him on your own, it quickly becomes apparent that your earlier estimation of him had been right on the money. He was much too large to comfortably fit and you only make it a few inches down before your jaw starts to scream in protest. You pull back to suckle on the spongy head for a moment, laving it with your tongue before deciding to try again. The progress you make is negligible at best, your lips straining around his girth as you furrow your brows and noise a muffled sound of frustration around him.
“Don’t try to force it, sweetheart. You’ll just hurt yourself.” He chuckles, the hand on the back of your neck sliding higher to curl around the curve of your skull. His palm is massive in comparison and you feel your cheeks start to warm when he condescendingly pats your head, tutting at you. “You’ll have to practice hard if you want to take it all someday.”
The heat inside your gut sparks anew as your eyes snap up at his face. He smirks right back, razor sharp rows of teeth glinting dangerously and reminding you, once again, that he was a real threat. An apex predator of the most deadly kind, and you were knelt at his feet sucking his cock like a good little pet. You should have been ashamed of yourself. You probably were going to be ashamed of yourself, later, when the carnal high faded and your senses returned.
For now, though, you’d already made peace with your fate and you pointedly give his cock a rough tug. That only makes Arlong’s lascivious grin widen, though, and you’re left with no other choice but come up off him with a wet, smacking pop to give your jaw a break.
Tilting your head back while you suck in a much needed lung full of air, you pull his cock to your open mouth and set it along your tongue. He hums appreciatively at the visual while you pump the length of him with your hand, letting more precum ooze out of him and onto your waiting palette. A faltering groan rises in the back of your throat at the taste, so heady and potent that it makes your mind spin dizzyingly fast. You couldn’t get enough.
“Heh. I take it you like it then?”
In lieu of an answer, you seal your lips around him and lean forward again, glancing up at Arlong through the fall of your lashes. His stilted sigh of approval rushes straight to your cunt, and you give a needy little squirm as he drags webbed fingers along the side of your face to touch at the pulled taught corner of your mouth. Rubbery palm skirting along your cheek, he reaches further back and then clamps down on the nape of your neck so he can pull you somehow even closer to him.
You’re pressed flush against the chair by the time he’s satisfied, neck straining to accommodate the length of his cock. Your unoccupied hand comes up to brace against his thigh when he starts to guide you through a bobbing motion, the stuffed full schlucking noise of your mouth almost unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet room. It sounds borderline obscene to you but he appears to enjoy it, resting his head against the back of the chair and sighing up at the ceiling with unmistakable pleasure coloring the exhalation.
Your pussy clenches at the sight of Arlong enjoying himself so much, enjoying what you were doing to him, and you offer the glans another enthusiastic suck in return. His fingers twitch against your neck and squeeze, just this side of painful. But he does a good job keeping himself in check, and you put a little more effort into pumping the part of him that your lips can’t reach by way of thanks. He could all too easily rip you in half - in more ways than one - so you appreciated the restraint he was showing.
He doesn’t even seem to notice the change in your hands pace though, his mouth running on drunken autopilot now that he’s let his guard down. Now that he’s fully given himself over to the wet warmth of your maw, he was uncharacteristically eager to heap his praises on you and you were more than happy to soak it all up.
“My good, good girl. Yeah, you like that cock, don’t you, baby? You love it. I can tell. You’ll never want another human to fuck you after I’m done. I’m gonna’ ruin you, you know that? So damn good for me …”
The tingling warmth that spreads through you makes it hard to think straight, your vision starting to swim as if you were looking through a foggy fish eye lense. You never thought he’d talk to you that way. Didn't think he could stand your kind enough to regard you as anything other than a nuisance to tolerate for the sake of his own goals. It may have just been the booze talking, you knew that, but you were still rather pleased by this turn of events anyway.
Your jaw was beginning to ache in earnest, though, and you whimper around his cock as you drag your hand down off his thigh to squeeze in between Arlong’s legs. Gently, you caress the heavy weight of his ballsack, delighted to find that it was just as soft and vulnerable as you’d suspected it would be. He hisses at the contact, hips lifting off the seat of the chair again, but he does it a little too roughly this time and you gag.
Seething through clenched teeth, he readjusts his hold on the back of your head, gets a better grip and slowly thrusts up into your mouth. The careful way he does it surprises you slightly, but you don’t get a chance to linger on that thought for very long because he immediately repeats the motion without giving you a moment to adjust and your eyes start to mist up. He doesn’t quite reach your throat like this, your lips already stretched to their limit and unable to accommodate any more of him, and yet that doesn’t stop you from choking with each drawn out flex of his hips. You were going to be sick at this rate.
Sucking in a faltering wet breath through your nose, you try to brace yourself for his next upward stroke. You weren’t sure how much more of this your gag reflex could take, or your poor jaw for that matter. Being on the receiving end of Arlong’s praises wasn’t worth it if you just ended up spewing your guts all over him, ruining everything in the end. Plus, you were pretty sure he’d just redact everything he’d said if it came down to that. You were damned either way.
Deciding it was best to take a moment and regroup, lest the unthinkable happen, you try to pull off him but the hand on your head keeps you firmly in place. You let out a muffled squawk, as confused as you were terrified of what would happen if he kept going like this. But he doesn’t seem to share any such concerns, and your gaze frantically shoots up at his face when he just keeps shallowly pumping into your mouth. He wasn’t even looking at you, though, his eyes closed and turned up at the ceiling.
“That’s it. Just a little more. I know it probably hurts, sweetheart, but just endure it a little bit longer for me, okay? I’m getting close … I’m getting so close, baby. Can you feel it? I’m gonna’ give you such a big load … ngh, you’ll never be able to swallow it all, but that’s okay. Just … haah, just keep it in your sweet little mouth a bit longer, okay?”
You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter, your cheeks burning hot as reflexive tears streak down your face. Abandoning his balls, you dig trembling fingers into the meat of Arlong’s inner thigh as a painful reminder that you were working on borrowed time here. But he seems to enjoy that, the groaning burst of air that puffs out of him in a sudden rush sending sympathetic shockwaves racing down your spine. Your panties were soaked at this point, uncomfortably clinging to your sticky cunt as you rock forward in a fruitless bid for relief. It was all you could do just to keep your lunch down, though, and you were far too lightheaded to even consider slipping your hand between your legs to rub circles into your clit. It wouldn’t take much to send you over the edge, either.
Even through your clothes, you were sure to cum quick - but how could you possibly think about that right now when he was still thrusting into your mouth at such a staggered pace that you felt as violated as if he’d properly fucked you? It didn’t make sense, how he had such a powerful effect on you when he’d barely even touched you so far. Almost like he had some sort of potent aphrodisiac at his deploy.
Could this possibly be a fishman, thing or was it just an Arlong thing?
“Oooh yeah, baby, right there. Right there. Your mouth feels so damn good. Are you ready? I’m gonna’ give it to you now … fuck, I’m cumming, baby, I’m cumming!”
With a feral, animalistic grunt, Arlong thrusts up off the chair and shoves his cock as far into your mouth as it will go. You sputter around him, frantically noising as your throat constricts and heaves against the pressure. In the same moment, he gives a full bodied shudder and hot, thick ropes shoot out of him to pool at the base of your tongue. Your eyes promptly roll back as you choke around his bubbling semen, face wet with tears and snot, and perspiration, but he doesn’t stop. It just keeps coming out of him, flooding your mouth until you’re sure you’ll drown in it.
So blissfully numb by the time he finally pulls out, you almost don’t notice the absence. It’s only when a fresh string of ejaculate plops heavy against your cheek that you realize he's cumming on your face now, and you obediently stick your tongue out to catch the salty discharge. He doesn’t seem to be aiming for your mouth, though, and you’re left with no other choice than to sit there and let him paint your face white until the pulses gradually slow to a stop some moments later.
The last bit oozes out of him, achingly drained from the bottom of his balls it would seem, as he squeezes it from the base up with an accompanying guttural moan. You let him push your head back down without protest and lap up the sticky bead, much to Arlong’s heaving pleasure.
He was still panting from the exertion, trying to catch his breath, and you were still struggling to swallow the excessive cum in your mouth so you could breathe at all. An odd sense of peace settles in the aftermath and you think maybe, in a far off, dreamy sort of way, maybe he wasn’t quite as mean as you’d pegged him. Someone inherently cruel wouldn’t have been so mindful of your physical limitations, right?
You’re pretty sure that’s not how it usually goes, anyway.
Gathering yourself to the best of your ability, you glance down at the front of your shirt only to outright grimace. You were absolutely coated in sheets of fast drying cum, and you weren’t so sure it wouldn’t stain. Dammit.
“So, uh. Do you always cum buckets, or was that all just for little ol’ me?” You venture to ask, not the least bit surprised when your voice comes out a raspy mess. You’d definitely need some warm tea after this.
“It’s a fishman thing.” He says rather flippantly, clearly unconcerned. “You’ll get used to it.”
Your head comes up in stark surprise. Well. That certainly answered your earlier question.
“Y’know,” you say, speaking cautiously slow. “That sounds an awful lot like you’re planning on doing this again, boss.”
Arlong actually has the audacity to smirk at you, his pale eyes dancing with what could only be mischief, and a not entirely unpleasant shudder promptly races through you in response.
“Again? We haven’t even finished the first time, sweetheart.”
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art-of-mathematics · 2 years
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They dismiss my almost non-existent working memory with 'but you are so smart. There is no possibility you can't get those lines of MRI instructions"
But no, you have presented your full-blown range of ignorance once again!
Just because I am good at my special interest stuff does not imply I am good at everything else. (I suck at most things that are considered necessary for living.)
Once again my weaknesses get overseen by my strengths... Unfortunately, my strengths are often also overseen by my weaknesses.
You do that math stuff? Whoa, you can't be struggling with simple stuff!
You struggle this much with basic stuff? No way you can excel in such complex shit!
Dude, I never wanted that extremely inhomogeneous IQ either!
An IQ is just a QUOTIENT, a mean, the value on its own does not make sense when the differences between its multiple sub-aspects are merely large.
Is the majority of mankind really THIS oversimplifying? Or is it just the people working here? Dude... I feel like an arrogant fuck, but such logical and statistical fallacies are a NO-GO when it comes to treating patients who need sincere help.
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illuminatedquill · 3 years
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Nevertheless, Episode 9
More Thoughts/Analysis
“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”
- E.A. Bucchianeri
Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage
Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:
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Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.
This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.
(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)
It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.
And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.
Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.
He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?
Well, let’s talk about it.
Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook
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We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).
It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.
So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?
He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.
Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.
So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.
(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)
But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.
Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.
Nabi’s Choice (The Review)
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This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).
First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).
Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.
Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.
There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.
And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”
And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.
There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.
And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.
So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.
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The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.
But she’s still there. She still made it.
One Last Observation, I Promise
Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.
Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.
Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.
The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.
Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.
Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.
Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.
Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.
(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)
My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.
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Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.
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j-amespotter · 3 years
Text
★ cardigan - s. b.
“i knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired.” 
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
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x. x. x.
Summary: Your relationship with Sirius is on the rocks, but you loved him and at the end of the day, he was always there. For your own happiness, something had to change. 
Genre/Warnings: angst, alcohol, language, toxic relationship 
Word Count: ~3k
A/N: this took a lot, and i mean a lot of energy. not sure how i feel about it (i am my worst critic) but i really didn’t want a pushover protagonist. ps... communicating with your partner is hot! let me know what you think (and if you think i should make a taglist) :) 
masterlist
“Ravenclaw girl this time. Blonde… I think I recognize her. Couldn’t see the front of her robes, she might be one of the fifth-year prefects. You know I’m terrible with names. Ask James, he finds it hilarious.”
“You should work for the Prophet, Lils,” you said, without looking up from your toast, which was becoming more and more tasteless with every bite. “What were they doing?” 
“Talking,” answered Lily pointedly. “He ended the conversation fairly quickly when he saw me looking, though.” 
You sighed. This discussion was becoming too routine for your liking, most often with Lily, occasionally with Remus. “Well, if they were just talking, then I don’t see the issue. Lily, it is early. We have double Potions this morning. I really don’t want to deal with your weird suspicions about my boyfriend right now.” 
If Lily sensed your underlying irritation, she chose to ignore it. “I just think you deserve better, that’s all. I mean, James–” 
You finally turned and stared defiantly into your best friend’s vibrant green eyes. “Lily, I hate to break it to you, but James is the exception, not the rule. Just because he’s some angel on earth doesn’t mean all boyfriends are like that, and that’s not even considering the fact that he’s been hopelessly in love with you since second year…” 
Huffing, Lily picked at the fruit off of her plate. “Okay, I get it. I won’t bring it up again.” It was sweet how much Lily cared. James doted on her day and night. It would have been easy to forget about her friend’s love-related quandaries. But that was Lily Evans – always considerate of others.
Truthfully, you were tired. You knew what ‘talking’ with Sirius Black entailed. It did not make you feel as secure as you indicated to Lily. As time went on, it was getting increasingly harder to defend Sirius’s overly-careless behavior. If he wasn’t chatting up girls in random corners of the castle, he stood you up on your scheduled study dates in favor of detention with James. There was only a little comfort in the fact that he wasn’t always like this. If he was, would you have even dated him? Deep down, you knew that as much as Sirius was a thrill-chaser, he was incredibly capable of being a loving boyfriend. For that reason alone, you bore the incredibly painful motions of being in a relationship with him. 
He briefly reminded you of his better qualities when you opened your Potions textbook and felt a feathery kiss on your neck. “Guess who?” whispered Sirius sultrily into your ear. 
You couldn’t help the automatic flush that made its way onto your cheeks. “Hmm… is it Remus?” you whispered back, stifling a giggle. 
“Don’t tease,” he grunted before planting a swift kiss on your cheek. He plopped onto the chair next to you and faced you with a lazy grin. “You look disappointed, love. I’m afraid your usual Potions partner is a bit preoccupied at the moment.” He gestured across the room, where you spotted Lily practically hanging off of James’s lap, distracting herself until the start of her favorite class with his lips. 
“They’re hopeless,” you commented airily, in an attempt to disguise your envy. You felt Sirius’s gaze burning into you. “Missed you at breakfast this morning,” you added in a casual tone.
“Oh, well, you know–” 
“No, I don’t know,” you interrupted, bitterness leaking from your clipped voice. You always let Sirius off too easily. “But I certainly can’t wait to hear your ready-made list of vague excuses. Please, do continue.” There. He had it coming. He deserved for you to throw him off track.
“Baby, it was nothing,” assured Sirius rather predictably. “Just Pippa asking for help with Transfiguration. Honest.” He placed a hand on his heart in mock sincerity, which only angered you further. 
Nevertheless, you chose not to argue. He was incredibly brilliant with his words. There was no way he would understand your plight. Instead, you absentmindedly flipped through your Potions textbook as Slughorn finally entered his unruly classroom. 
Sirius seemed uncharacteristically bothered by your lack of response. With a half-glance at James and Lily, he entwined his fingers into yours. “They’re in their honeymoon phase, you know. You really can’t compare.” 
“There is no comparison, Sirius. James prioritizes Lily. I can’t remember the last time you prioritized me,” you whispered. There was a finality in your tone that you hoped he would hear. It was the most you were willing to discuss the matter. 
Sirius Black was a lot of things, least of all oblivious. He gently squeezed your hand. Silently, he slipped his fingers out of yours, choosing to follow your lead and not pursue the issue any further. 
A part of you was proud of the fact that you finally found it in you to voice your concerns to him, but another larger part dreaded the irreversible distance it put between the two of you for the rest of the day. You weren’t necessarily avoiding each other. Though his smiles were significantly more tender, he seemed reluctant to talk, let alone touch you.
Sick of the mental torment you were subjecting yourself to, you stuffed your unfinished Charms essay into your bag and headed to your dormitory, choosing to retire for bed early. Mid-yawn, you spotted a single red rose on your unmade bed. You didn’t have to read the attached note to know who it was from but felt your heart thudding against your chest as you unfolded the small piece of parchment. 
I’m sorry. I love you. 
There was no signature, but you could recognize his meticulously-slanted script anywhere. You stared at the note adoringly before pressing your lips to the corner of the crumply parchment and marking it with the remnants of your lip gloss. 
Suddenly, you were no longer tired. Skipping down the stairs, you found yourself wishing for a certain map that would tell you the exact location of the only person you wanted to see.
Fate seemed to be on your side when you saw him in the common room, his head bowed as if he was praying. “You’re here!” 
He gazed up at you, his shoulders relaxing when he noticed the smile on your face. “I’m really–” 
You didn’t let him finish. You kissed him hard, throwing your arms around his neck. You felt him smile against your lips. Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I was being silly.” 
Sirius’s grin widened. “You’re quite low maintenance, y’know. I thought it would take at least a week and a hundred roses. And if not roses, then daisies, sunflowers, peonies… I was ready to pull all the stops. For future reference, a good snog is all it takes to win me over.” 
You laughed heartily, though you struggled to keep up with his train of thought. You always appreciated his good-natured ability to poke fun at the gravest circumstances. “I just missed you.” 
“Me too, darling. I’ll do better this time, I promise.” 
True to his word, Sirius showered you with a level of affection that could rival James’s for Lily. He spent every spare moment with you in his bed, sneaking into the kitchen for secret dinners, and pushing you against bookshelves in the back of the library, homework-be-damned.
On Tuesday night, you sat on the Astronomy Tower. You glanced at your watch, realizing that Sirius was nearly an hour late. Your eyelids were drooping shut. It had been a long day. Everything in your brain felt scattered. You could’ve been catching up on the mounds of schoolwork you were now falling behind on. Sirius… Did he say midnight? Did you hear him correctly? Maybe he meant for you to pencil it in. Maybe he was hurt. Was it Remus? You stared at the sky, peering at the crescent shape of the moon. It taunted you. Stop kidding yourself. He’s not coming. 
Just as you were about to call it a night, Sirius stumbled into the Tower and onto the floor. Startled, you helped him up. “There you are! Are you alright? I was so worried… Are you drunk?” 
His grey eyes shone in the soft moonlight. The cloudy expression on his face paired with the sloppy grin he sent your way spoke for him. “Lost track of time… we snuck into Hogsmeade,” he slurred. “Rosmerta slipped us some firewhiskey. Here, I brought us a bottle...” He reached into his robes, only to come out empty-handed. “Uh-oh… finished it. Sorry, baby.”
You processed his words very slowly, realization dawning on you with the weight of heavy bricks. “Un-fucking-believable.” 
“Hey! We’re all of age.” He threw up his hands in surrender and widened his eyes innocently. “Next time, darling. I promise.” 
“It’s not about the fucking drink, Sirius! You’re here so you obviously haven’t forgotten that we had plans tonight! I don’t care if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade, but you should’ve told me. I’ve been waiting here like an idiot for an hour. I’m exhausted!”
“Told you,” he grumbled, now irritated, “we lost track of time.” 
You stared at him, unable to comprehend his complete shift in attitude. “Whatever,” you said finally. “I’m going to bed.” 
Spinning on your heels, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you prepared to march away from him with your chin up. Before you could take too many steps, however, a firm hand grasped your wrist. The intensity of the force pulling you back to him felt so otherworldly that you could hardly believe it was a wasted Sirius. 
You had a fleeting thought of pushing him away but instead tilted your head so he could pepper kisses onto the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again, between his fluttering pecks along your jawline. 
His lips found yours. His hand released your limp wrist as his fingers gently trailed up your arm. “So beautiful,” he murmured, gazing directly into your eyes. You practically melted as your body fell into his. Like always, his arms were ready to catch you, drunk or otherwise. 
“No Sirius yet?” asked your mother, sipping her drink cheerily.
You refused to look her in the eye in fear of giving something away. “No, not yet. Should be here soon, though.” 
“Better be,” said your father, slipping away from a party guest. “He’ll miss cake.”
It was your parents’ twentieth-anniversary party, an occasion made doubly special as their one and only daughter was now officially a Hogwarts graduate. You had planned the party and made Sirius promise that he would not only attend, but also arrive early to help greet your guests as your boyfriend. 
You knew that your parents did not initially approve of Sirius, but as your relationship strengthened, so did Sirius’s standing in your family. Now, post-Hogwarts, you were desperate to not only show your parents that the two of you were committed to one another but also feel yourself that your love would endure the many challenges of adulthood. 
As the last of your family friends trickled out of your childhood home, you failed to hide your disappointment at his loud absence. Like many months earlier, your mind see-sawed between possibilities, some pathetic, others worrying. You were in the middle of a war, after all. You always believed Sirius’s recklessness would be his downfall. 
Fortunately or unfortunately, your worries subsided when you saw him slip into the parlor with a present in hand and a sheepish smile directed at you and your parents. “Happy anniversary! Sorry I’m late, you won’t believe– hey, where’s the party?” 
“It’s over,” you announced bitterly. 
Your mum and dad sensed the tension and tactfully exited the room. “We saved you some cake, dear,” your mother said to Sirius, after politely thanking him for his present. 
“So,” you started as you heard your parents’ footsteps fade away, “where were you? Actually, don’t answer that. Let me talk first. This was important to me, Sirius. You knew that! What will I say to Mum and Dad? Don’t I matter to you at all? Is it always going to be like this?” 
“Slow down,” whispered Sirius. “I’ll explain everything – just listen! I was with James, okay? We were only mucking around on the bike. I was on the way, I swear! But then these Muggle Aurors – police, they’re called – they started chasing us! We were getting away but these three blokes – Death Eaters – caught up to us. Long story short, we got into quite a scuffle and…” He looked at you in an attempt to gauge your reaction. 
Your mouth hung open as you absorbed his story. Regardless of your anger, he presented a legitimate case for himself that you could not quash. “Death Eaters? Thank Merlin you’re alright. How on earth did you get away?” 
“I’ll tell you everything. Your mum mentioned something about cake?”
You stood on your toes, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest. “In the kitchen,” you answered softly. “I wish you would be more careful.” 
He kissed your temple. “Don’t worry,” said Sirius dismissively, “I handled it, didn’t I?” 
“So, what do you think?” 
You and Sirius were standing in the middle of his new studio flat. Primely-located and newly-furnished, it was the picture-perfect bachelor pad. Sirius now had a place to call his own, thanks to a bountiful inheritance from his Uncle Alphard. The walls were bare and the lighting dim, adding an overall sensuality to the atmosphere. 
“It’s nice,” you remarked sincerely, smoothing his plain black bed sheets. You peeked into his wardrobe, smirking to yourself as you noticed it was half-empty. “Lost the rest of your clothes, babe?” 
“No,” answered Sirius quietly. “It’s for you.”
“What is?” 
“The closet space. It’s for your clothes.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 
“For when I come to visit,” you amended automatically. 
You turned to see Sirius scratching the back of his head. “No, for when you live here. With me.” 
“W-What?” Your mind was reeling. You leaned against his side table to steady yourself. “Me? Move in with you?” 
“Well… yeah,” said Sirius as he slowly regained his signature confidence. “We’ve been together for ages, seems about right. Besides, James and Lily are getting a place together.” 
You did not understand why you weren’t over the moon. It was what you always wanted from him – a tell-tale symbol of his otherwise-flaky commitment to you, a sign of your sparkling love. It was the beginning of the next chapter of your lives, and you were meant to start it together. On paper, it was perfect. There was no explanation for the sinking feeling in your stomach. 
Suddenly, the words that would never come were on the tip of your tongue. The answer was clear as day. “No.” 
“What?” 
It was an extremely difficult task to catch Sirius Black off-guard, a feat you used to motivate your argument. “No, Sirius. I won’t move in with you.” 
Shock was written all over his face. “What the hell? Why?” 
“Because… you didn’t even ask me!” 
Sirius stared at you blankly for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “Alright… (Y/N), will you please do me the honor of sharing an address with me? Is that it, then? Shall I get down on one knee?” 
“No, Sirius. That’s not the point,” you said firmly. “The point is that you didn’t ask me. You just assumed that I would say yes – don’t interrupt. I know we’ve been together for years, but can’t you see? You make me so incredibly happy and yet, so unbelievably unhappy at the same time. You’re so good to me, and then so horrible, and then amazing again… I can hardly keep up anymore. I’m a fucking doormat and I’m sick of it! It’s humiliating. I’m tired of feeling humiliated in front of people I care about. It’s starting to become too high a price of being in love with you.” 
You ended shakily, afraid to look at him. When you dared, you saw him wearing an unfamiliar expression. The silence washed over you both for an eternity. You had the horrible thought that perhaps this was it. Perhaps, you crossed a line. Maybe he hadn’t noticed how broken you both were, how broken you were, and now… well, he couldn’t unsee it now. You were over. Without a word, you headed for the door with your head down.
“Wait,” shouted Sirius hoarsely. “Don’t go. I-I’m not sure what to say to make you stay.”
“Try being honest,” you whispered weakly. 
He swallowed nervously. “Okay, here goes. I know that I haven’t put enough effort into this relationship… I know that. I realize that I take you for granted and that you deserve better. I don’t blame you for thinking that. I would never have blamed you for thinking that. But here’s the truth – I am so far gone when it comes to you, you have no idea. I am so in love with you. I think about you morning, noon, and night. And the thing is, here we are, fighting for Muggles and Muggleborns and the good of the world… but above all, I am so utterly afraid of losing you. I think that’s why, actually. That’s why I keep you at arm’s length. I don’t think I mean to, but it just happens. Because I’ve never met anyone who loves me as much as you do, not even my mother. Especially not my mother. I’m torn between keeping you close and pushing you away because the truth is, you’ll always deserve better than me. And I’ve always been afraid of you realizing that.”
His truth was careful but sincere. Your hand slipped off the doorknob. Still, it was not the first time Sirius had rendered you speechless. “How do I know you mean it? That it’s more than just words to you?”
“Let me prove it to you,” he said meaningfully, grey eyes glistening. 
You took slow steps toward him, and he embraced you with the hope of filling all the gaps he may have left open. “Okay,” you said, your voice muffled into his shirt. “Just… leave the closet half-empty for a little while.” 
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mittensmorgul · 3 years
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So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)
Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!
*flings open array of questionable suitcases*
First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...
One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.
Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)
Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.
How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?
How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.
All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?
Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).
The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.
At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?
So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:
this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.
Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.
Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?
Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for
And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.
(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)
So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?
So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.
Folks, you can’t have it both ways. 
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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years
Text
kinktober - day fourteen
oikawa tooru - punishment 
kinktober faq kinktober prompt list
nsfw warning featuring: spanking, vague punishments, degradation, rough dirty talk, hair pulling, dom!oikawa, sub!reader, porn without plot/build up other tags: aftercare, cuddling, pillow talk, its short but i like it anyway so who cares, the shortest kinktober fic ever  fem reader
word count: 976
-
A deep kiss. 
A rough tug. 
A striking smack. 
“You’ve been so naughty today.” 
Oikawa closed your eyes with his hand, covering half of your face, leaving you in the dark. 
“Care to explain yourself?”
“I haven’t -” 
You felt another sting before you heard the smack; your whining response made Oikawa laugh. 
But that pure sound was temporary, and when he spoke into your ear, you weren’t sure if it was even him. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t imagine that voice coming from Tooru. 
“Am I going to have to bend you over my knee and leave marks to get you to fucking behave?” 
Words were caught in your throat, stuck behind a cry and forgotten with yet another smack to your thigh. 
You threw your head to the side trying to knock his hand off of your eyes, desperate to regain your vision. His hold on you tightened. 
“Is that a yes?” 
Your struggle was short. Giving up and giving in was all you could do. 
“Or... should I just tie you up here - use you for what you’re good for. You won’t be able to fight back, will you? You’ll be forced to be good for me. You want that? Want me to force you to behave? To fucking use your body?” 
You shook your head; you didn’t need to be bound. His hands around your wrists would be enough. Begs poured from your lips, but Tooru didn’t hear them. All he focused on was his cock against your throbbing cunt, and the way your cries seemed to heighten when he came close to putting it in. 
He wouldn’t be giving you anything you wanted tonight. It didn’t matter how much you batted your eyes or licked your lips or called his name; he wouldn’t give in. 
“You’ve done this to yourself,” he told you. He was moaning, sliding into you with a motion reminiscent of gentler nights, but that wouldn’t last. And the sting you felt from being so suddenly filled was all foreign pleasure. “I’m giving you what you asked for - I’m using you like you deserve, because you’re mine to use. I told you to be good… you didn’t listen.” 
You could cry as much as you wanted, but he knew you liked this. He knew you craved the stretch of his cock and the tightness of his grip, the sting of spanks and the gravel in his voice. And he could frame it like a punishment, but you were already unraveling underneath him, just at the thought of him using you like this. Those tears on your cheeks did nothing to rival the wetness dripping from your cunt - your body wouldn’t let you pretend to hate this. 
“Already fucking milking me,” he groaned, “need my cum that bad? You can’t wait ‘til I’ve actually punished you? Can’t let me have my fun with you?” 
His hand slipped from your face but your eyes stayed closed. You couldn’t open them if you tried, because the pounding he was giving you was far too much to take. 
You felt your hips lift off the bed, Tooru throwing your leg over his shoulder, and if you weren’t crying before you definitely were now - it was like being lit on fire. Everything you wanted he was giving you, and it was too much. You thought you’d be able to take it - you were wrong. 
And neither could Tooru - it was evident in how hard he was fucking you, thrusting both of you into the flames. It was hotter than either of you could handle; even if Tooru was the one in control, he didn’t have the self restraint to hold himself back from cumming with you. 
It was loud and hot and fast, and then it wasn’t. There was heavy breathing and whispers of movements and barely grazing skin, all in contrast to moments ago. A much needed calm after the storm. 
“Are you okay?” 
You didn’t reply, and the silence struck Tooru directly in his heart. He pulled your face toward his, wiping the tears that still remained beneath your eyes. 
“Hey - look at me, let me see those pretty eyes, baby, come on.” 
Your eyelids pulled apart and what you saw was blurry, but you could clearly see the look in Tooru’s eyes: hazy worry mixed with multiple kinds of relief. 
“How’re you feeling, my girl?” 
“Tired,” you croaked, and he chuckled at you. 
“I love you,” he said, giving you the words as a reminder. “I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I?” 
“No,” you replied, and you were giggling at the sincerity of his question. “I know you didn’t mean it.” 
“I didn’t.” He flopped down behind you, unceremoniously ridding the dominating attitude he had donned minutes before. “You’re so good for me, baby, so good. The best girl in the world.” 
You didn’t know how he had so much energy after the session you had - if he would have fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, you wouldn’t have blamed him. You would have joined him. 
But he didn’t rest. His fingers carded through your hair, a gentle opposite to how roughly he was tugging it before. He left lingering kisses on your cheek, where tears had once resided. His thumb worked circles into your hip before moving down to your thigh, and he noticed that your skin there was still hot from the strikes he’d given you. And it was like he was erasing away all of the rough things he had done, showing you how he really felt about you and your body. 
“I still never got to really punish you, though,” he said, making himself laugh. “I’ll do better next time.” 
“We’ll see,” was your sarcastic response, knowing that he didn’t have it in him to give you anything close to a punishment. 
Though he already had a mind full of ideas, and he couldn’t wait to practice his self restraint with you. 
-
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
Text
the devil you know
Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert
Genres: Action / Drama
Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?
Сhapter 2/?
Chapter 1
Her first visitor was - quite unsurprisingly - Moblit.
He brought food, a change of clothes and even books to her. All of them - Hange couldn't help but note - were picked up to suite her interests.
Then he sat down next to her and proceeded to clean the small cut on her cheek, the one she received during the raid on Liberio, when one of the bullets flew almost too close for her to dodge.
"It's just a scratch," she whispered, still unable to meet his gaze. She did not deserve his kindness. She never did.
"It still might get infected," Moblit murmured, applying a soothing balm on the wound. Gentle, he was always so gentle with her. So patient too. Hange’s eyes started to sting.
"And why do you care?" she asked, staring at the wall in front of her. "Don't you..." she closed her eyes, wincing. Why did she care? He was an enemy, the devil of Paradise, and yet— yet her heart still squeezed painfully and her stomach was in knots. "Don't you hate me?"
Moblit sighed, putting away the med kit. He rose up from his kneeling position and joined her on a small prison bed.
"I tried," he confessed softly. "I tried hating you, so hard and for so long but I just… couldn't. You know when Captain Levi broke the news of your betrayal..." he chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I started crying. I thought how could you do that, after those years we've spent fighting side by side, how could lie to us like this? But then..."
"Then?" Hange echoed, her voice wavering.
"Then I remembered our first expedition," Moblit smiled. "The one where I almost got eaten. You saved me back there. Nearly got your hand bitten off but you saved me, and that made me realize, you didn't lie, not always anyways. You're an extraordinary person, Hange-san, but I don't think even you can pretend like this all the time. All these nights I carried you to your room after you fell asleep in your office and you murmured 'thanks' against my shirt, all these evenings we and the guys from our squad got drunk at the bars, all these times you made sure to check on me, when I got myself into infirmary, finding the time to do so, despite your crazy schedule... I know all of this wasn't a lie, it couldn’t be.”
He paused for a moment, staring at her with the same devotion he always did, the one that always made Hange’s throat go dry, because she had never deserved it. She – a traitor and a liar – never deserved Moblit’s kindness and affection. But even now, he didn’t seem to understand it.
“I can't hate you, Hange-san,” he murmured softly, “because I know that this betrayal hurt you as much as it did all of us."
He touched her hand, briefly squeezing it, and when Hange looked up, surprised that her vision is clouded, Moblit wiped off her unshed tears and gave her another kind smile.
"I'll come back in the evening. Please tell me if you need anything else. I can go to your room..."
"My room?" Hange startled. "You haven't cleared it out yet?"
Haven't they destroyed everything there - burned all of her papers and smashed all of her samples? Why not?
"Captain Levi forbade us from doing so," Moblit replied, and that seemingly simple revelation had Hange’s heart beating madly. Her shocked expression didn’t go unnoticed by Moblit. He chuckled heartily, muttering something to himself.
"Good day, Hange-san," he said at last, leaving her to deal with the bewildering news on her own.
***
Armin came to her next.
For the longest time, he just sat there, fiddling with something small, enclosed in his hands and out of her sight.
Hange ignored him, pretending to read one of Moblit's books and watching him from the corner of her eyes, waiting for Armin to speak up.
Was it his method of manipulation? If so, it wasn't working.
But as the silence stretched on, becoming tenser with each second, Hange struggled not to squirm in her seat. What was the meaning of this? What was he waiting for? And then, when she was ready to speak up and ask what the fuck he wanted with her, Armin finally looked up.
He rose to his feet and hid the mysterious object inside his jacket before Hange could see what it was.
"I'll have tea brought for us,” he announced. “Just wait for a minute."
"It's not like I can go anywhere," Hange muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Just a minute,” Armin repeated with a nervous laugh, and then hurriedly left.
Once the tea was brought, Armin let himself inside the cell.
"There you go," he murmured, handing Hange a white porcelain cup. It was one of the best that the scouts had, Hange knew that this tea set was only used for that rare instances, where they had to hold meetings with the highest members of the brass. And Armin decided to use this set to have a tea party with her? The hospitality was making her uncomfortable. Was that Armin’s intention too?
She accepted the cup, looking at the boy over its rim. "How are Gabi and Falco?"
"Don't worry," Armin smiled. "No harm will come their way. Their cell is not... as luxurious as yours is,” he gestured to the bed, desk and even small bookshelf that stood inside. “But they're in good hands, you can trust me on that."
"Thank you," Hange nodded and drank from the cup. Her eyes opened wide as she tasted the familiar sweet flavor. How did he—
"You should try biscuits too," Armin the pushed the plate closer to her. Hange glanced at them. Just as the tea, those biscuits were her favorite.
"We used to do it a lot, remember?" Armin said, easily deciphering the reason for her surprise. "With Mikasa, Eren and the rest of your squad..."
"I remember," Hange quietly answered. She took another sip, her throat suddenly going too dry.
Was this all a part of his plan? To make her feel as the most disgusting piece of shit in the world? Armin shouldn’t have bothered. She was quite good at it herself.
"Good times, eh?" Armin chuckled, putting a hand under his chin. ��Those evening at the barracks… You told us so many things, had us hanging onto your every word. You had enough passion in you to carry on for the whole night, but Captain Levi never let us stay for too long…”
“Is that the reason for your visit?” Hange snapped, interrupting him. Every word from his mouth was making her more and more angry. She didn't need some barely adult to lecture her, trying to make her feel bad. What did he want to achieve with that? Make her realize how awful she is? She knew that already. “Did you come here to reminisce about the good old days? Don’t you have anything better to do, Armin?”
"Sorry," weird, but Armin looked genuinely apologetic. Was he always that good of an actor? Or did he learn the skill of deceit after she left? "It wasn't my intent to stir... some unwanted memories. I didn't come here for this. I actually... wanted to ask a question."
"Ask away," Hange allowed, crossing arms on her chest.
"I've been thinking about this a lot," Armin began, playing with a cup's handle. Looking like that – with his head bowed and his eyes cast down, he reminded Hange of the boy she knew four years ago. She almost believed in his sincerity. “Reiner and Berthold, Annie... they wanted to kill Eren. At the very least, take him away. Why haven't you attempted something like this? You had more than enough opportunities. Why didn't you use them?"
Why didn't she indeed. Deep down, Hange knew an answer to this question. But since she wasn't only a piece of shit, but a coward as well, she wasn’t ready to admit it, even to herself. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to Armin too.
She had an answer for him, though. A reason she fabricated to placate her superiors and give herself at least some peace of mind.
"I've never seen an Attack Titan. Kruger died before I became a part of Titan Research Society. And..." she shrugged, and put on a bright smile, her only mask and best defense. "I wanted to study him so much that I was willing to ignore my duty."
"And thunder spears?" Armin asked. "Without them, we would have lost at Shiganshina. Why did you create them?"
"Same reason," she took a biscuit in her hands, biting into it. Her lie was so good, she herself started believing in it. "I was too fascinated by your technology. Couldn't pass the opportunity to find out what your natural resources are capable of."
"Ever the scientist?" something very close to admiration shone in Armin's big blue eyes. Hange quickly looked away, not giving her guilt an opportunity to resurface. She’d have time for that later, when left alone. “Thank you for your answer, Hange-san.”
“Is that all you’ve wanted to ask?”
“No,” Armin shook his head. He shifted his eyes back down, staring into his cup. He slowly span the spoon, lost in thought.
“I know it’s unwise,” he stated, tone uncharacteristically firm for a boy Hange once knew. “And I know that others may not… agree with me on this, but I wasn’t supposed to be in this position. Commander Erwin left it to you, you’re his true successor and I…”
Couldn’t be, Hange thought. Was it another one of his games?
“Are you asking for an advice, Armin?”
“I…” he chuckled, nervously ruffling his hair. “I guess I am. It’s just— everyone looks up to me now, thinking I’ve got all the right answers, but I don’t even know what the question is supposed to be. I’m trying to deal with the mess that the attack on Liberio caused, and now everyone is coming after me for putting Eren in jail, and—” Armin rubbed his face, his shoulders sagging. Hange started to feel sorry for the boy, she could only imagine how hard it was to call shots during times like this. “After you… left, I thought I’ve learnt my lesson. I thought I knew that you can’t trust everyone. But Eren isn’t just someone, he’s my best friend.”
I was someone’s best friend too once, Hange almost said. She was someone’s best friend too, and then she betrayed him.
Would he ever be able to forgive me, she wondered.
No, Hange shut that train of thoughts immediately. He wouldn’t. He was too smart to be that kind.
“He’s a family,” Armin solemnly continued, breaking her out of the reverie. “But after what he’s done in Liberio… I can’t even look him in the eyes.”
“He changed,” Hange said, as softly as she could. She contemplated covering Armin’s hand with hers, but she doubted he’d allow it. “People do that sometimes.”
“Yes,” Armin nodded. “I’m… learning to accept that.”
“I know you still care about him. You always will.”
She will always care about him too. God, she was pathetic. A spy and a traitor and she couldn’t do even that properly, forgetting the most important rule of ‘do not get attached’.
“But you can’t trust Eren anymore,” Hange told him.
Talking about trust? Well, wasn’t she a hypocrite. Another one of her many, many flaws.
“I know,” he sadly agreed. “But Eren is not the only one, who worries me. There is also a matter of Zeke Yeager…” Armin reminded.
She smashed the biscuit in her fist. Zeke, the bastard had played them all. And to think she used to admire him… More than just admire him.
“Don’t let Eren and Zeke converse,” she warned grimly. “Under any circumstances. Knowing what Zeke is capable of, and witnessing what Eren is capable of, it would be best if you separate them.”
“Separate them…” Armin mumbled, biting his thumb.
“Get Zeke out of the inner city,” Hange advised. “As far as you can. Perhaps…” she scratched her chin, thinking. “Perhaps, have him hidden in the Forest of Giant Trees.”
“Huh… that’s a very sound idea,” Armin slowly nodded, some tension leaving his body. That bright light returned to his eyes, and Hange relaxed at the sight of it. Seeing some of his worries disappear made her feel just a tiniest bit better about herself. “I can appoint Captain Levi as Zeke’s guardian, he won’t be able to make a single move then.”
“You do that.”
Just at the mention of him, all of her good mood had disappeared. It was a good thing that Armin decided to get him out of the city too. Perhaps, her heart wouldn’t get completely shattered then.
“Thank you so much,” Armin finally smiled, looking up at Hange.
With his puffy cheeks and big, bright eyes, he looked young, she couldn’t help but note. He was still just a boy. And already he had a burden on his shoulders Hange wasn’t sure she herself would be able to carry.
“I know it may not mean much to you, but you’re doing good, Armin. He—” Hange paused, clearing her throat. She still couldn’t say hisname. Commander Erwin Smith was an enemy, a biggest threat to their mission. But at the same time… he was a man she followed for five years of her life. He was a man she admired like no other. Erwin Smith was a friend.
And she missed him terribly.
“He would have been proud of you,” she finished hoarsely.
“Hange-san,” Armin rose, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know Commander Erwin as much as you did, but I think… I think he would have forgiven you. If that’s any consolation, I already did.”
Fuck. Hange turned her face away, hiding her eyes. Starting with memories of their time years ago, bringing up Erwin, forgiving her… Was Armin so determined to make her cry?
“Thank you for your time,” Armin said at last, leaving the cell.
As soon as the door closed after him, she left the tears flow.
***
Then came Sasha. Naturally, with Connie in tow.
With wide eyes Hange stared at the variety of meals the pair brought inside her cell.
"Um..." she gawked at it, feeling utterly lost. "What is this?"
"It's food!" Sasha beamed.
"Yeah, I can see that but... What's the occasion?"
"I just thought they don't feed you in here," Sasha answered, skeptically looking Hange over. "It doesn't look like they do. You seem thinner than before."
The sight of Sasha with hands on her hips and her lips pressed together in displeasure made Hange feel inexplicably warm. She desperately tried to fight off a smile, but in Sasha's presence it proved to be an almost impossible feat.
Ah, well, she was always her favorite...
"Moblit takes care of my meals actually."
He came to her every morning and evening, bringing warm food and engaging conversations. His quiet, soft voice was the only respite from the demons in her head.
"Pfft," Sasha rolled her eyes. "And you're calling that food? This is food!" she gestured at the plates they’ve carried inside. "Just try it, Hange-san, it's delicious!"
"It's from Niccolo!" Connie said, grinning just as brightly. "He's a real master."
"And our friend!" Sasha added.
“Something more than a friend for Sasha," Connie corrected.
Red hue instantly appeared on Sasha's cheeks, and Hange couldn't resist anymore - she snickered in her palm.
"Let's eat before it gets cold," Sasha muttered, avoiding everyone's eyes.
As she busied herself with serving the table, Hange exchanged a look with Connie. The boy winked. Hange hid a smile.
As they ate, Sasha and Connie entertained Hange with stories of their everyday life. They told her about the time they pulled a prank on Jean and almost made him believe he grew ten inches taller overnight and spoke of an arm wrestling match between Mikasa and Levi that Levi, to his immense shame, had lost.
They talked so animatedly, described everything with such vivid details that Hange felt like she actually had been present when all of it had happened.
Truthfully, she desperately wanted to.
"Thanks for the meal, guys," breathing heavily, Hange sat back in a chair. She turned her face away, unable to even stare at the food. Sasha was right, the food Moblit brought her - as good as it was - didn't compare to Niccolo's. As a result, she was completely stuffed. "It was delicious."
"And talking with you had been fun," Connie said.
"It's good to see you again," Sasha admitted with a kind smile that warmed Hange’s heart.
Sasha and Connie managed to make feel better than she had been in days since Liberio. Truth be told, they made her feel better than she had been since leaving the island all these years ago.
The kids rose from their seats, moving in perfect sync.
Just like twins, Hange thought with another smile.
They moved around the table, picking up the plates.
"You go, Sasha," Connie spoke as soon as they finished. "I'll catch up with you."
"Eh?" Sasha frowned. "What do you—"
"Go," he gave her a push, still refusing to meet her gaze. "I need a moment with Hange-san."
"And why must you throw me away..." Sasha complained , shaking her head. She gave Connie another look, filled with suspicion, huffed in annoyance and then walked out of the dungeons, leaving them alone.
Connie waited until the sound of a large metal door closing was heard and then looked up at Hange.
"Hange-san," the boy seemed a bit nervous. Hange wondered about the reason for a sudden change in his demeanor. She wanted to ask, but Connie suddenly appeared beside her. Without giving her time to react, he wrapped his arms around her. Hange stood still, not knowing how to react. "Thank you for saving Sasha,” he whispered. “I don't know what I would have done without her."
Oh god, again? Were those kids going to make her cry again? She had to resist it. She was a Marleyan soldier, one of the strongest and toughest they had. She could do it.
But then Connie had the gall to press his forehead to her shoulder, sniffling quietly, and Hange felt her resolve shutter.
She quickly wiped at her eyes. "I'm glad I managed to get there in time,” she said, more honest that she had been in a long time. “This world would have lost a lot of light if Sasha was gone."
"My world would be completely dark," Connie agreed, letting go of her. He took a step back, looking at Hange with a wistful smile that reminded her that he wasn’t the same naive boy anymore. None of them were. "Thank you again. I meant it when I say it’s good to have you back. We’ve all missed you terribly, Hange-san.”
Thankfully, he left before her face became covered in tears once again.
***
Jean came to her too. Many times, actually. He paced around the cell, he touched the bars, pulled on them.
But he never entered.
He tried to be sneaky about it too, coming down to the dungeons well after midnight. But his steps were too heavy, and Hange was a spy, and before that – a soldier. She was trained to be a light sleeper practically since birth.
However, she said nothing. Giving him the time he needed was the least she could do. Besides, she knew Jean. The boy was not a coward, she knew he’d certainly come around.
And on the fourth day since the Raid on Liberio, he finally did.
He marched inside her cell, looking like a man going to war.
"Why did you do it?" he slammed his hands on the table, right under Hange's nose.
She slowly looked up from a book she was reading. "You have to be more specific, Jean. I did a lot of things."
"Sasha!" he said with barely conceived rage. "Why did you save her?"
Hange put the book down and crossed her legs at the ankles. She looked at Jean carefully, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't want me to?"
"That's not it!" Jean growled. He shook his head and then continued in a much calmer voice. "You know that's not what I meant.”
Plopping down on a chair next to Hange, he hid his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "I just don't understand it..." he muttered. "We probably wouldn't have hurt those kids even if they did harm Sasha. So why did you do it? Why did you save her?"
Hange sighed. The answer was fairly simple. But everything it entailed – not so much.
"I didn't want her to die."
Jeans studied her pensively. "Isn't that what every Marleyan wishes for? To kill as much Eldians as they can? They sent you here with the same reason, no?"
Hange gave him a sharp look. "No. My mission was to survey and investigate. I wasn't ordered to harm or kill you."
Truth was - she probably wouldn't be able to, even if ordered.
Getting too soft, Zoe, a voice that resembled Zeke's sneered in her head. Hange ignored it, swatting it away like an irritating fly.
"God, you really are making this so hard for me," Jean mumbled, shaking his head.
"What exactly?"
"Hating you," Jean replied. "I spent four years hating you. You and Berthold and Annie and Reiner... I despised them for betraying us, for lying and pretending, but you... Your betrayal shook me to the core. I thought I was ready for it, you know?" he looked at her, staring right into her eyes and showing her all of his raw emotions. Hange hated herself just a little more for causing him so much distress. "I thought that after Reiner and Berthold, nothing can hurt me. But I trusted you so much. I respected and admired you. Between unwavering Commander Erwin and aloof Captain Levi, I thought you're the only one who gives a damn about us."
Hange stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Tell him that he wasn't wrong? That, despite everything - her orders, her beliefs and upbringing - she still cared? A lot of good her care did.
“I looked up to you, you know?" Jean continued, gazing up at the ceiling with a bitter smile. "Thought you're a real badass. Well, you still are, for what it's worth. Managed to fool us all, I couldn't believe it, when Captain told us that you left. No one could. Commander Erwin even wanted to call off the expedition to Shiganshina."
Erwin wanted to call off the expedition? The stoic, cold-blooded Erwin? She had trouble believing it was true.
And her heart was having trouble shouldering all that pain. She really was a piece of shit, wasn’t she? She played with their feelings, betrayed those, who actually cared about her, and for what? For a nation whose only motivation was greed, for a war that was justified solely by prejudices?
“He didn’t name another successor, by the way,” Jean revealed. “Technically, we still don’t have a Commander. I guess no one could fill those shoes, except you.”
“Please,” Hange scoffed. “I would have done a terrible job.”
“You’re selling yourself too short,” Jean protested, shaking his head. “Commander Erwin himself believed in you. That's gotta count for something."
"Erwin didn't know me."
It was Jean's turn to scoff. "Are we talking about the same Erwin Smith? The myth, the legend?" he rolled his eyes. "He may not know everything, but he knew you. Enough to entrust his legacy to you. You're not as bad as I was making you out to be, Hange-san. Actually," Jean tilted his head, his eyes softening. "You're not as bad as you think you are."
Hange turned her face away, hiding from his intent gaze. Jean’s words stroke a chord she didn’t she think she still possessed. So pathetic. After all these years, and she still yearned for acceptance.
"You never did any harm to us,” Jean went on. “Never hurt us, at least not physically. You helped us a lot actually. Your research and inventions… Have you realized what you were doing? I think some part of you certainly has."
"Besides, after all that shit that's been going on, we can't exactly be called good guys either,” he sighed, pushing the hair back from his face. “Maybe, you and I have more in common that I'd like to think.”
Again, Hange was at a loss for words. Should she thank him for making her feel better? No, she was already pitiful enough.
"Just something to think about," Jean finished, getting to his feet.
He fixed his uniform, brushing the invisible dust from his shoulders. Hange stole a glance at him, marveling at how much he had changed. If she had been his commander, she’d be so proud of him. He had grown into a smart, kind man. Perhaps, a little too kind, she thought, recalling their conversation.
"I've never thought I'd say this," just before leaving, Jean turned to Hange, his hand gripping the bar of her cell. "But I'm glad our paths have crossed again. It looks like there are still lots of things I can learn from you."
***
At last, Levi came.
Hange didn't hear him enter the dungeons. She was in the middle of reading a book when she got a strange, prickling feeling. She looked up, almost jumping as she instantly met Levi's grey eyes. They seemed especially cold this time. Have they always been like this? She was sure they weren’t. At least, not when they were directed at her.
As their gazes connected, he said nothing. He continued to watch her, and the weight of his gaze was so heavy, she felt like she couldn't breathe.
"Erwin is dead," he finally said. Impossible, but his eyes became even colder. "Killed at Shiganshina. Did you know that?"
"I read the report."
She wasn't present at the battle, Zeke had advised against that.
"It's too dangerous for you, Professor," he had said. "Attack Titan, Ackermans and those scouts, it would be best if you sit this one out. It'd be a shame if we lost a mind as brilliant as yours. Besides," his lips curled into smirk then, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes. To this day, Hange wasn't sure if he had been joking or not. "You lived with them for so long, your feelings are compromised. I'm sure you're filled with desire to kill them all."
Funny thing, Hange thought back then. Because if she had been thrusted into that battle - she wasn't sure she'd be able to fight for the side she was supposed to.
"In a report?" Levi sneered. "Your buddy Zeke must have bragged to hell and back about it."
Levi's words, even filled with so much distain and mockery, weren't that far from the truth. The voyage back to Marley had not been a happy affair. They almost lost Zeke, they almost lost Reiner, they've lost Berthold. Sweet, timid Berthold, Hange liked him so much. After Pieck's titan, his colossal was the most intriguing test subject. Soft and caring Bertold died, and she could only imagine how hard it was for Reiner. The poor boy didn’t speak throughout the whole journey back home.
“After being away for so long, you’d think he’d be happy that the mission is finally over,” Pieck noted, whispering her observations in Hange’s ear. “But then again,” she turned to her, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You don’t look so excited either.”
Hange paid her no mind then, even if Pieck had suspected something, what of it? She was going home, and those Eldians – those people she lived with for five years – didn’t matter anymore. But Reiner did, and Hange watched him, intently, wondering what she could do to make him feel better. She wanted to comfort him, she even approached him and words "I know how it feels" almost slipped down her tongue. But she stopped herself at the very last moment. I know how it feels. Did she really?
She lost people before - a tall blonde man with a goofy smile who gave the best hugs, a blond woman with the most infectious laughter, the adorable petite girl who always looked at her with stars in her eyes, a cheerful young man in glasses who copied most of her gimmicks, the serious brunette who followed her every command - with every loss a part of her soul died, but could she really call them friends? They did not know her, and if they did, they would have never accepted her.
He wouldn’t have accepted you too, a malicious voice whispered in her ear.
The proof of that statement was staring her down at the very same moment.
Unable to escape Levi’s seething gaze, Hange remembered what Zeke had told her then, when she regrouped with them at Shiganshina.
“You did not mention those scouts are that crazy. To sacrifice so many people just for a chance of victory?” Zeke had scoffed, cleaning his glasses. “I just can’t understand it.”
You never will, Hange thought back then. Those brave, young soldiers. Her heart bled for them.
“And that Ackerman,” he continued. “To think they call me a beast titan. I thought I was done for. All that rage and blind hatred and all of it because of some Commander.”
“Erwin Smith.”
“What?”
“His name was Erwin Smith,” Hange repeated, her voice brimming with emotion. She blinked away tears. She would not cry, not right now. Not when Zeke was looking at her so closely. “And he wasn’t just some Commander.”
She left Zeke’s side quickly afterwards, afraid that she’d be unable to hold back her own rage. Some Commander? Erwin was much more than that. Even as Marleyan, she was able to understand that.
“Did you know about Mike too?” Levi asked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. “And about Nanaba?”
She did, of course, she did. Zeke had sent her the letter, retelling everything he did to Mike in horrid, morbid details. Reading that letter, Hange struggled not to throw up. She could almost hear his screams, could almost see the horror in his eyes.
To not be simply eaten by a titan, but getting torn apart by them? Hange couldn’t imagine a fate more horrible.
The terror of it all didn’t leave her for the longest time. It was only in his arms – in Levi’s strong, gentle arms – that she managed to find some respite. She hated herself for it, but when he wiped her tears with his lips, whispering soft, soothing words in her ear, she could almost pretend to forget.
“And about Ragako?”
Amidst her inner turmoil, Hange missed the moment when Levi entered the cell. Now he was standing right beside her, looming over with dark, angry expression.
“Did you know about those people? About what was going to happen to them?” Levi wasn’t an expressive man, but his eyes showed it all. In a life where she pretended to be a mad scientist and a survey corps’ squad leader, she prided herself at being one of the few, who could read those eyes. But she could see nothing inside them right now. Levi’s face was completely blank, his emotions closed off. “Did you know what was going to happen to Connie’s mother?”
That was it, the final nail in her coffin.
And to think that just the other day, the boy was thanking her. Her, who condemned his mother, who destroyed his home.
Hange closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. She gripped the chair under her tightly, quelling the trembling. She would not break, not in front of him.
“What do you want, Levi?” she glanced at him beneath her hair. “What do you wish to hear? That I reveled in every death? That I sneaked out to the island to dance at Erwin’s grave?”
Levi pressed his lips in a line, a deep scowl forming on his forehead.
It was the same expression he had when looking at Zeke, Hange realized.
She thought her heart couldn’t break anymore. Apparently, he was wrong.
“I’m just wondering,” he said. “If there was ever anything sincere in you. Have you even felt something? After all these deaths, do you at least feel guilty?”
“If that’s what you think of me?” she looked him in the eyes, surprised to see something coming alive inside them. “If I’m a monster you think I am, what was the point of bringing me here? Why haven’t you just killed me? Surely that would have given you some peace of mind.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Levi surged forward, grabbing her by the collar. His grey eyes bore in hers with intensity that she had rarely seen. Inside them was an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. “Shut your stupid mouth, four-eyes. Do you really not get it? After everything you put me through, after all these fucking lies, I’d still rather die than harm you.”
He pushed her away, turning on his heels and storming out of the cell. To the sound of his quick, heavy steps, Hange slowly slid to the ground. Her knees gave under her, as she realized – it was not anger that she had seen in Levi’s eyes.
It was pain.
“Fuck,” she murmured, hiding her face in her hands.
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Text
Blank Space
Loki x Reader
1989, chapter 2
"There once was a girl known by everyone and no one"
Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the stark tower- and that's where our story begins.
Word count: 4,864
Warnings: medium level angst I guess, and language as always.
A/N: writing this was challenging and I complained about this for like half of my mutuals lol. However, I did find the perfect song to mix with the title track obv and it was perfect to show their past. You will learn more about their past in future chapters.
A/N: thanks to @chrissquares for making me beautiful dividers especially for this series and @nacho-bucky for beta reading it all! A reminder to check out the song before reading/during!
No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.
Series masterlist
song on Spotify and YouTube
Tumblr media
 "You know him? Y/N, why didn't you tell us?" Steve scolded you as you sat in one of the rooms, in front of him, Natasha, Thor, and Tony. This felt more like an interrogation than a talk.
"Is this an interrogation?" you looked him dead in the eyes, you saw him falter.
"It doesn't have to be if you don't lie to us again."
"I never lied to you."
"You held back information." Natasha said then.
"Fine, yes I know him, I knew him." You sighed, remembering the night you met him, before everything went wrong.
You were walking through the park in the night, was it dangerous? Of course, but you needed to clear your head. That was when you saw him, sitting on a bench in the rain. He was different, you knew that the minute you noticed him- it wasn't even the weird attire he wore, but rather the feeling that came along with him, you didn't feel threatened and you have mace in your bag, so you approached him.
"You will get a cold if you keep sitting in the rain, don't you have an umbrella?" he looked at you and you got shivers from his blue eyes.
"No, I will be fine. Thank you my lady for your concern." God was his voice enchanting. Curiousity got the better of you then.
"You saw him on earth and you didn't say anything? He is not allowed to be here." Tony said, his fingers fidgeting with his cuffs.
"I knew him long before the invasion happened, it wasn't near the time when I became an avenger, or on shield's radar at all." You tried to explain yourself to them. You never lied to then, you never thought you'd see him again especially in the tower. "Look it is all in the past, there is no reason to talk about it."
"You were mad when you saw him, why was that?" Natasha glanced at you, you knew she would read you if you lied.
"Well, I knew him for a while. But he is the god of lies, I don't like being lied to. So that says it all." You shrugged it off.
"So you won't tell me where you're from?"
"I told you, I'm from England."
"No you're not, you're a pretty lousy liar you know?" you smirked at his taken aback look.
"I think you'd be surprised."
"Nope, I can already tell- you're a bad liar. Or you might be good, but I'm better." He gave you a curious look as the rain kept falling around you, the umbrella you were both sitting under protected you.
"He never mentioned you, or going to earth at all. When was this?" Thor asked you.
"Around 2009" it was so long ago, you now realized, but it still felt close to you.
"You should take my umbrella." You suggested to the man but he just laughed as you sat beside him. "What? You said that you need to go, and I live closer than you, I'll be just fine without it, the thunder doesn't scare me."
"I am not quite fond of it actually. But you should get home, it is getting late." He smiled at you and you got up.
"Let's make a trade then, you will take my umbrella" the two of you stood now. "And you will give me your name."
He eventually took the umbrella with a smile, his fingers were cold when they lightly brushed yours, and you went your separate ways.
"You have no reason not to trust me, I never saw him again after 2011!" you just wanted them to understand that it is all behind you.
"I never said I don't trust you, but kid why would you hide this from us?" Steve asked you, you were pretty close, he was kind of like a protective older brother to you- ironic since he is pretty reckless and Bucky is saner than him, but he cared about you.
"It isn't important Steve, he is a liar that isn't new to any of us. It's nothing personal or important anymore."
"Kid it seems pretty personal-" Tony started to say.
"Well it's not!"
"Okay fine, but just know that he will be here for a while until we figure out and deal with this hydra shit. Then after that Point Break over here will take him away." Tony was sincere now, you could see the worry in his eyes, you knew he was affected by the invasion the most. "So take my advice, and make sure that it really isn't personal."
You nodded to him.
"You are however more than welcome to throw him in a little nightmare, I'll pay you." He smiled and you chuckled.
"What are you saying Stark? My lady," oh you haven't heard that in a while. Fuck. "Do not give my brother nightmares, however you plan on doing that." He looked you up and down, and it was as if you could read him like an open book, you didn't have to use any of your powers because you already knew exactly what he thought in his head.
"I'll stay away from him. Just make sure he does the same."
You looked innocent, not harmful, the kind of girl you would offer help to with even the smallest stuff- a good girl. That's what they all saw before getting to know you, and maybe that was you before you got these dark powers, you knew you missed the old you but you could barely remember her.
 "Are you certain that's what they said?" Natasha asked you from the kitchen table as you made her pancakes.
"I know, it sounds weird but it's Asgardian, they have weird names. Plus I doubt they were lying, they were sleep deprived and I can assure you they have been through a lot of stuff before I started to actually talk to them. Ready?" you looked back at her and she nodded.
You threw the pancake back and by the small 'yay' Natasha let out, you didn't have to turn back to know she caught it with her plate.
"Well, I think I'll go and make them write it down because I am certain we are pronouncing it incorrectly."
"Well I tried! Their accent didn't help at all!" you defended yourself.
"You're still pronouncing it wrongly." You froze, turning around to look at Loki and Thor who walked towards the kitchen. "One would think it was made up by how horribly you ruined the word. How would you know they were truthful after all? What could you have possibly done?"
You held his gaze before deciding to not retort back, you ignored that curious familiar look. He has some nerve to talk. You sat in front of Natasha with your own batch of pancakes, the room was quiet before Thor chimed in to break the tension.
"Are those the cakes from the pan? Oh they are tasty! Would you mind making me and my brother some, Lady Y/N?" Thor was actually nice, how could you say no?
"Of course!" you got up with a smile. "Oh, but I'm afraid there isn't enough batter for the two of you I'm afraid."
You let a small frown take over your face, and you saw Natasha's small smile when you turned to make Thor some pancakes.
"You are a bad liar." Loki pointed out and you didn't have to think.
"I fooled you." Soon enough you turned around to give Thor his pancakes with a smile, pouring the rest of the batter in the sink before sitting down to eat. "Oh and Thor, this is the second warning about what we discussed yesterday, I won't hesitate."
"Very well, however you never did tell me what-"
"It's not important." Thor glared at his brother.
"Brother please be more civil, it's for your benefit." You felt Loki's gaze on you as you ate.
"Do tell me brother, how is it for my benefit?" Loki chuckled.
"Well, you have wronged a lot of people here, and so lady Y/N agreed to not harm you if you stay away. We are here to help my friends!" Thor's booming voice alongside his hopeful smile contrasted his brother's.
You should have known he would test it.
"Oh, and how can she harm me now?" the minute Loki uttered these words you glanced at him for a moment, and the next thing he knew, his heart beat loudly as he fell down from the portal in New York, terrified when he saw the Chitauri around him, one monster opened its mouth and Loki was a moment from dying in its clutches when he heard Thor's voice.
"Enough!" Thor said sternly and Loki was back in the kitchen, disoriented as he took in his surroundings. You only nodded at Thor before you kept eating. Loki disappeared a moment later with a green shimmer.
"I don't like using my powers Thor, but if you care for your brother keep him civil." You said, sorry that Thor had to get offended by it too.
"I understand, but he is here to help right now, mere comments are the least harmful things he could do, there is no need to take it to heart." He put a hand on your shoulder and it was warm enough to get you to agree with him. Stopping hydra should be your top priority.
 "I hate it when he does that." Tony groaned at the marking on the ground just outside of the compound.
Thor and Loki were now back at the palace gates, they heard a call, and Loki turned to see Iyllir walking up to him. She smiled at him and he smiled back, grateful for the lack of observant eyes to tell his fake smiles apart from the real ones.
"Prince Loki, what took you so long? You missed our picnic." The lady put her arm through his and he heard his brother snicker.
"How unfortunate. My brother and I still have very urgent business to tend to. I must go to a court meeting now." Loki gently tugged his hand out of hers.
"I thought you said this won't take long?" she frowned at him. She certainly was beautiful, with red hair and grey eyes, always majestic like a lady, and yet he couldn't follow both of their families' wishes.
"Well I am afraid things have changed, I won't stay here for long this visit." With that he went and followed his brother towards the big doors that opened for them and he saw Odin there alongside trusted advisers and of course- the warriors three. And then the meeting began.
Loki sat in his chair, bored as they talked about the mortals.
"Father, I can assure you that as of now there is no need in sending Asgardian forces there. My friends are handling it well now." Thor explained to his father and Loki couldn't help but get distracted.
"Let me help you, Y/N" he asked you, chuckling and biting his lip when you glared at him.
"I can handle it Loki!" you said as you tried to handle the pile of books in your hands so you could get the key for your apartment. He was thankful that you couldn't see his face now as he watched you struggle to balance the books on your thigh.
You let out a small shriek as the books fell out and were about to hit the floor when they just stopped midair, and you looked at Loki only to see him leaning on the wall, arms crossed with a smug smile on his face.
"I bet you liked my help now." You groaned.
"Yes thank you and your stupid magic Loki." You leaned down to pick up the books and stack them again after opening your door.
"If I remember correctly you were, oh what's the word- petrified when you first saw my magic"
"That is a big exaggeration! I was just a bit… startled maybe." You walked into the apartment and he closed the door behind you when you suddenly stopped, turning to him with an annoyed shocked expression, your mouth agape and your eyes wide and not amused. "You knocked my books down!"
You were met with a mischievous grin.
"You hurt my feelings darling, do you have any proof?" you huffed out a breath.
"You are insufferable!"
"You seem to manage so far."
"From what I gathered so far, the group called Hydra there seemed to have a hold of some old weapons of ours, nothing too big yet but we are looking into it to find out if there is more stuff we don't know about."
"And do you really think the mortals can handle this?" Odin asked the brothers.
"Yes father, they are very powerful." Loki couldn't help but agree with Thor, they really did manage to surprise him this time. He never expected her.
 "What is this A children's playground? Stop pulling your punches and fight me." You grunted as you tried hitting Bucky again, you've been too distracted lately, your training didn't go too well and you ended up on the mat more often than not. At this point you considered just using your powers to make it seem like you're winning but now you were fighting Bucky, and from the day you met him you swore to yourself that you will never use your powers on him. He doesn't need anyone messing with his mind again.
So long story short you were getting your ass handed to you.
"I'm not a supersoldier may I remind you, so I'm sorry if I am a little tired! Bucky come on let's take a break." You ducked another punch.
"Maybe your mind just isn't with us right now." Natasha helpfully provided as she sat on the side with a smoothie.
"Fuck off."
"No, really, what is your deal with Loki?" at his mention you delivered a kick to Bucky that made him fall on the mattress with a thud.
"Nothing. Is this good enough for you now Bucky?" you reached out a hand to help him up.
"Now that we got you riled up about him, yes- let's go again." He laughed at the glare you gave him. Your jaw clenched as the two of you got into position.
"Bring it on, Barnes." He went in with his left arm now.
"I will, how did you know him? It certainly looks pretty personal and in-" you turned him around and pinned him to the ground.
"Shut up, just fight me." You heard Natasha laugh beside you and in that moment Bucky took advantage and got you on the ground instead. And you went back.
"What the fuck!" you screamed when you saw the figure in your room, Loki stood there, his face scrunched up.
"Sorry, my love."
"We talked about this Loki, you can't just teleport here- especially when I am sleeping!" you sighed when you saw his regretful face. "Don't stand there like a creep, come here I missed you."
He smiled and you closed your eyes, you still saw the green light that lit up the room when he changed his clothes and got under the covers with you. His hand was cold, making your skin prickle but it was worth it when he pulled you to him and the warmth spread between the two of you.
You fell asleep content with a smile on your face at the kisses he laid on your neck.
"Y/N?"
"What?" you looked up at Bucky who sat back on his heels, his brow was raised.
"You kind of spaced out, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine. I probably should go though." you got up. "Bruce probably needs help in the lab."
 "You did not tell father about lady Y/N." Thor stated the obvious.
"Don't call her that. Why would I do that? She is of no import." Loki walked towards his chambers, but alas Thor decided to escort him there with preying questions.
"How did none of us know that you spent time in Midgard?" Thor stopped Loki with a hand on his shoulder.
"That was a long time ago brother."
"And yet it seems that you have quite a history, what happened between the two of you? Were the two of you…?" Thor trailed off and Loki groaned.
"Don't insinuate that, there wasn’t anything. We knew each other for a while and then we didn't. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll go to my room. Alone."
Loki shut the door behind him, in his mind he still saw you and your eyes and then the flashes of the battle of New York. The day was tiring; he decided to get some much needed rest, to get you out of his mind.
The day was exhausting; he had to stay back in Asgard. He couldn't put up illusions all the time, it was taking a toll on him, but it was worth it in his eyes.
The palace was now quiet as everybody went to sleep. Loki wanted to rest too, so he snuck out towards the bifrost. Heimdall had already seen him coming, and was ready to open the way.
"Are you going to keep going to her every night, my prince?" Heimdall asked him and Loki let out a smile.
"Yes. Thank you, truly for keeping this a secret for so long." Heimdall only nodded at him.
"If you are going to keep sneaking out to see her, someone will end up seeing you sometime." Heimdall stepped down and came to Loki. "I think I should show you another way to pass through the realms, I think you are mad enough in love for it to work for you."
When Heimdall showed him the way, he thanked him sincerely, it looked impossible at first but soon enough he was there in your room. You already fell asleep. He watched your figure as you rested, your state of calmness washed over him, and then you suddenly screamed at him, maybe he should have tried to wake you sooner, it didn't exactly matter to him much when just a few moments later he was curled up in the warmest bed he'd ever known.
 "So you see, this part here it seems to be controlled by the holder of the gun, that must be the Asgardian tech combined with our own." Bruce told you as you gently examined the weapon.
"Damn, how long do you think they had that then? Like, just the time that it took them to develop it…" you thought. There were probably much worse things out there at their hands.
"I'd say at least a couple of months. It's a shame about those scientists." He hesitated to say that and you knew why.
"I didn't know they had that, no one checked their teeth. I was doing my job. It's okay, you can talk about it." You shrugged it off. With a power like yours, you have to get used to using it, you must fit yourself to it… because it certainly won't happen the other way around. But you were fine. You were different now.
Right?
"Well, next time we will check their teeth, to make sure this won't repeat itself. But at least we got some information before that's good right?" you nodded to Bruce and took out the bullets from one of the guns. There was something red, or was it orange, inside it. You examined it closer, moving towards the microscope to try to see for yourself before you ask Bruce about it.
Curiousity killed the cat.
Before you could reach the table, there was a warm sensation in your hand where you held it and then all you knew was that your hand hurt and you hit the floor, the bullet exploding with whatever was in it. Maybe you should've worn gloves.
Oh well, satisfaction resurrected it.
"Bruce, did you see that?"
"Yes Y/N, are you okay?"
"My head hurts but I'm fine, did you know those bullets do that?" you got up a little too fast for Bruce and your head's liking, but you went to the table nevertheless.
"No, they were fine before, you shouldn't have touched them," he fussed around.
"But I saw something-"
"You need to ice your head, tell me or Cho if you feel anything weird. This isn't something we know about Y/N." he handed you an ice pack for your head and told you to sit down, to which you grumbled but obeyed.
"Ah, Y/N, F.R.I.D.A.Y has been telling me that you've been trying to blow up the lab." Tony laughed at you as he entered.
"No, I would never try to steal your job." You shot back and he winked.
"Okay Elsa, I thought you'd like to know that we managed to make sense of some of the files we found in the warehouse and it looks like they have been making trades and dividing what they found."
"What do you mean?" Bruce asked him.
"That place we found was only dedicated to create a couple of things, but they have more out there, dedicated to building who knows what." Tony groaned, "We will need to divide and conquer this, we can't waste time and there is no way I am letting those Asgardian warriors come here. Don't blow things up kiddo!" you nodded to him, things were getting worse by the minute. You pressed your hand holding the ice pack harder against the back of your head. You were not looking forward to tomorrow, so you kept Bruce company until you were too tired to push it any longer. You went to bed and magically managed to convince Bruce to go to sleep.
 You woke up groaning, you apparently forgot to close the blinds the night before. Going back to sleep will only cause you to oversleep, which will cause Steve to activate the stupid alarm protocol Tony built for him after you annoyed him.
You did not want to wake up to old Captain America songs blasting your ears off.
So you got up and after a short breakfast you reluctantly got on with your duties and important paperwork.
"Miss Y/L/N, you called me? I'm Mike, you asked for an analysis check on some data?" you turned to him then from looking at the board in the small conference room.
"Yes! Hi Mike, thank you. We have some encryptions that probably lead to very specific locations, check radars of isolated places or you know what- scratch that, they could be under our nose in the middle of a city." You looked at him apologetically. "Sorry, I can't narrow it down but we do need those answers as soon as possible. Okay?"
The poor guy looked horrified, his brown eyes were wide and you let out a small sorry when you handed him the big file.
"Yeah, of course Y/N, I will get right to it." With that you were alone in the room once again, going over the information you managed to get from the now dead scientists. This is going to be a long day. You saw it coming and that didn't help at all.
"Oh fuck." You cursed when the cold water from the sink touched your palm, it wasn't badly burned but it still hurt you.
You closed the door to your bathroom and turned around to see him standing in your room. Your eyes locked with blue ones, they certainly were familiar even after all this time, but while you could see the hesitation and the other swirling emotions in his eyes you couldn't tell anymore if you could trust what you thought you knew.
"When?" you felt your blood boil, but you knew you couldn't avoid him forever.
"Sometime after-" you hesitated with your words, walking towards your cabinet to put away the first aid kit you had. "After." You settled with that.
"What are you doing here Y/N?" Loki heard his own heartbeats, seeing you here… After all this time and he never forgot you. How could he?
"I'm an avenger now Loki," his name felt bitter on your tongue and you had to swallow to continue. "A lot has changed you know, you don't need to ask all these questions. There is no point to them."
"Oh but there is," at his angry tone you turned around. It was years of bottling the fight that you never had, he never let you have it. "You never wanted this life Y/N! What are you doing fighting out there with heroes or whatever they like to call themselves?"
"They are heroes, they help people. You however seemed to do the opposite from what I remember seeing on the TV." You laughed and shook your head. "I was still there you know, I was right in that same apartment where you left me. And there I saw you on the TV and I didn't even recognize it was you."
"Did you get hurt?" the question startled you.
"No, but it doesn't matter Loki! I am fighting alongside heroes now, I changed since the last time I saw you, this is my place now!"
"Oh darling you can pretend all you want in front of them, but I still know you." He matched your stare now. "This is not your life."
"Well yes it is!" you shook your head when he got closer now, every emotion you never got to express came back to the surface. "Why are you here? Huh? You're the one who left in the first place!"
"I've come here to help-" you stomped up to him.
"You know damn well that is not what I asked." You hated how your voice wavered.
"I did come here to help with the weapons," he continued before you could try to intervene. "And I didn't expect to see you again. But you're here now, and so am I."
"Damnit Loki, we have been through so much together, we weren't dating for only a month or two. A year. We were dating for more than a year and that is a lot." The tears were brimming now when you remembered your theory, that one little theory that ate your heart out, this one theory you found only a few days after. "Or at least here it is. Maybe in Asgard with all the almost-immortal gods a year is insignificant to you- that sure explains it all."
"No, it's not!" he dismissed it immediately and you felt your defenses shattering when he walked towards you. "I know there's pain inside of you, which was caused by me. But I am here now and I can't deny that I can still feel what I felt all those years ago. Just hear me out, we can call it even, just for a little while."
The last time you played this game it left you with a nasty scar. The more that he said, the less you knew what to think anymore.
So you didn't.
You hated the calmness that took over you the moment his lips touched yours, tongue sliding over the other, it left you breathless. You knew it was still love for you, but it was torture, you knew the high will not be worth the pain but he felt too good, too familiar that it made you question that. You didn't know how long has passed, all you knew was Loki, you still fit perfectly with his body which was pressed against you. Time flew by and you didn't know how you got here.
One moment his lips were on yours, the next you were pressed into the mattress, his figure pressing on yours. Maybe this could be good for the weekend… the next moment your legs somehow were wrapped around him and pulled him more into you. His lips trailed down to your throat, making breathy moans come out of your mouth. Your eyes opened and were focused on one spot on the ceiling, when you managed to break out of this delusional pleasure time flew by.
"No Loki, stop." You pushed him off of you. You sat up, curling your legs.
"What? Darling-" he tried reaching out for your thigh but you shook your head.
"You should go, Loki." You didn't look at him. Your hand covered your mouth as you sank into thought.
"Go? Why would I go? I know you feel exactly like I do." You couldn't deny it. You both knew that.
"You left me before Loki, what is the problem with leaving me now?" While you couldn't see him now, you had to get him out of here, so you could think clearly. This was too reckless. "It doesn't matter, this was just a relapse."
He left you there, and once the door shut you broke down, hating yourself for drowning into him again. You knew you were the one breaking your own heart when he took his warmth from the now cold bed. But it is better that you'll break it before he ever gets the chance to do it again.
Tags: @ayybtch  @buckys-other-punk  @chaoticpete   @madcrazy50   @mishkatelwarriorgoddess
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downywrites · 3 years
Text
I feel bad for my radio silence, so please have the draft lol
Skeppy finds that there is a way to tame beasts without ever drawing his sword.
Skeppy was not fond of the nether. It was hot. It was humid and dry, all in the wrong places. The piglins were rude to him, the hoglins were wild and liked to cause him all kinds of trouble, and the netherrack burned his skin whenever he touched it. He had no kind of interest in the area, he really didn’t.
And yet, he found himself floundering in the vastness of the nearest nether fortress. The almost-black bricks were refreshingly cold under his hands, a breath of fresh air within the stuffy stratosphere of the nether. He glanced bemusedly at his compass, the usually faithful tool rendered completely useless by the biome. “Prime, where the hell is the exit of this damn place?” The sounds of zombie piglins groaning in the background echoed through the halls, making him shiver. “Ugh, just get me out of here already…” The diamond-encrusted hybrid’s feet made slight screeching noises as he scrabbled for a good grip on the tile. He tried his best to ignore them. “Come on, come on…” As he weaved through familiar hallways and rooms, his impatience bubbled at the top of his throat, begging to be let out. His tail lashed impatiently as he walked. After a few more minutes of searching, he threw his hands up in the air in annoyance, making a few confused piglins grunt and turn to look at each other. “Are you serious? Just get me out of here, Primedamnit!”
He growled under his breath, exposing a few filed down teeth as he did. In the back of his mind, he hoped he didn’t make the piglins angry. Slamming his eyes shut, he tuned into the air around him, trying to sense any sort of familiar substances around him. ‘If I can’t get out of here, at the very least, I’m taking some loot with me.” The vibrations of gold armor around him squealed loudly, but he ignored it for the sake of finding some diamonds or some larger portions of treasure. The heat of the fortress pressed down on the hybrid. “Is there anything nearby, or did I get into this mess for literally nothing?” Opening his eyes to glare at the piglins, he scowled at the floor he walked on, stomping wildly like a child having a tantrum. As he walked, he continued to tune in, clinging onto the idea he had in mind. ‘If there is nothing in the whole of this place, I might as well just go and troll someone by telling them to come to these coordinates.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘That would be funny to see.’ Before he could continue on his train of thought, a large ping made him gasp. Blueberry colored eyes widened at the sheer mass of diamonds and gold directly below him. “Holy shit!” Kneeling down to touch the floor, the vibrations of the valuables had him shaking with excitement. “Jackpot!” He ruffled through his bag, careful not to drop anything as he did so. He wasn’t one to leave anything around, not when there are piglins nearby. Within moments, he had made a hole in the floor, the small area inside dark and black as pitch. “Well, here goes nothing.”
He sincerely regretted the way he entered the cave or riches. Like the intelligent, mature human being he was, he had left his bag just barely out of reach, his pickaxe inside of it. And, in a similarly benevolent and logical fashion, Skeppy had immediately tried to escape the hole with his entire torso already in it to grab the item. Ironically enough, the world had it out for him. Why? He certainly didn’t know. But whatever karmic god he had pissed off was really, really mad at him that day. Because when he reached out to grab it, the whole of the ceiling crumbled, taking him down with it. In short, he was not having a good day. A small sigh escaped his lips, rubbing his head from where he had smacked it on the floor a little. “Ow. Jeez, why does everything hate me so much?” The whining noise of gold and the gentle pinging of diamonds surrounded him. His eyes gazed upwards at the small cascade of light above him from his endeavor. “Fuck, how am I supposed to get back up?” His eyes darted over the shadows of riches untold, drinking in the glitter of blue and yellow in the soft, barely visible light. “Hmph.” Crossing his arms and pouting, he rested against a firm chunk of nether brick, gold clinking around him as he did. “Guess I’ll just rest for a bit. It’s not like some fuck’s gonna get me here.” As if the gods themselves had it out for him one last time, the sound of valuables clinking to the floor startled him back to his feet. Legs wobbling from the effort and the sheer waves of fear he felt rippling through his body, he got into the best fighting stance he could and turned to face the source of the noise. The shimmering lights shifted in from of him, like a tide of danger forming to wash him and his ignorance away. Once again, the back of his mind informed him that perhaps he should have listened to the others when they said not to try anything stupid. ‘Then again, who would I be if I didn’t do anything stupid? Isn’t that my defining characteristic?’
That was the defining thought in the front of his mind when the shadow growled, white eyes slowing and casting a beam of light directly at his trembling form. Not exactly the best way to start off a fight, he would say. His knuckles gleamed back at the creature, sending light bouncing off of its scales. It snarled, a loud, guttural noise that threatened to take him down without a single point of contact with the beast. “W-would you believe me if I said that I didn’t mean to come down here?” Heated breath, even warmer than the outside air in the nether’s outdoors, buffeted his face and forced him to dig into the ground as much as he could just to stay standing. The shape shifted into the light, glimmering scales morphing into an identifiable (and distinctly terrifying) muzzle shape above him. Little diamonds skittered on the floor as it moved. Tiny little pinpricks of glitter and noise danced in his eardrums through the cacophony of screeching rocks and piglin shrieks and the musty, dank breath of death looking above him. Eyes struggling to focus on the the looming shadow that was beginning to block out the little light he had, he yelled up to the creature in panic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t fucking kill m-” An even louder growl hummed through the air. It opened its maw, nether vines and natural substances writhing like snakes on its face and horns. “Language.” If this were any other situation, Skeppy would have laughed. ‘It languaged me? A gigantic nether mob that is trying to kill me LANGUAGED ME?’ Unfortunately for him, he had no time to laugh as a large claw came down, large sinewy fingers extended outwards toward him. With a rather unmanly shriek, he vaulted himself onto a mountain of gold coins, running up it as well as he could. He spluttered as a few coins somehow found their way into his mouth, metallic taste staying in his mouth for several moments longer that they should have. All the while, the claws reaching out for him continued to swipe at his form. The wind from its movements blew into his face, causing him to take a step back. “Woah, woah- AGH!” The foothold below him shifted like dunes in the desert. With a small exclamation, he fell onto his butt, eyes wide with fear. A beam of light fell upon his form, a low, guttural growl singing through the air. “You have trespassed. And you broke my ceiling. You will pay.” Its low voice reginited the pit of fear that was currently planting its roots into his stomach. He scuttled back, shaking his head no. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, p-promise!”
A large claw encapsulated him, tight and rough around him. The diamond hybrid scrabbled and squirmed in his grip, spouting fear-fueled insults and small, very fake reasons for breaking and entering, literally. A single squeeze to his midsection made his voice freeze and choke up in his throat. “Silence.” A white-eyes glare sent him reeling. ‘Too bright!’ “You have caused me problems.” Another squeeze made the bright light look like a vignette for a moment. Unable to speak, he scrabbled even more at the scales on the claw that held him, trying to find a soft spot to prod. A snarl rippled through the air, the vines on its muzzle swaying from side to side dangerously. “You will pay for your crimes-” A small, almost comically high-pitched yelp escaped the dragon-like creature. The grasp on his torso lessened. With it, came extra clarity on what he was doing exactly. There, right at the smallest spot where the underside of its wrist and lower palm melded into one, was a barely noticeable irregularity. Without knowing it, Skeppy had scribbled his nails over it. He raised a single eyebrow, unable to censor the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “You’re..ticklish? I big, strong creature of the nether.. Is ticklish?”
A series of sputtered, rumbling words didn’t help the creature’s case. “No, that’s not.. No. It’s not that, it’s sensitive. I swear on the bastions, do not- ACK!” Skeppy dug his nails back into the spot, giggling at the noise he got in return. “Aha, take that!” A frustrated, chuckly laugh made his very bones vibrate. “You know what, forget it. I’m going to put you down, and you...leave. Just leave. Do not mess with me anymore, got it?” He nodded in agreement. ‘I am so not going to let this slide. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I die?’ The air wooshed around him, the only indication that he was moving downwards beside the glaring beams of light flicking around the area. As his feet touched the ground, he squirmed out of its grasp impatiently. “I can get down by myself, thank you. And,” he pointed up at the creature with a grin, “I’d like to see your face. Do you have a human form or something? And like, a light? I promise I won’t take any of your stuff for myself if you do.” The sound of scales scraping against metal made him wince. “Are you really making a demand out of me? Badboyhalo, the great demon of the Nether?” He sharply retorted, “Well, I can certainly say I have something, saying that I have blackmail on you right now! How would everyone react to word that you are ticklish?”
A sigh, much smaller than the other vocalizations from the beast, echoed through the room. “Fine, then.” Skeppy craned his neck to look at the shadowy shape, desire to watch the beast transform outweighing he dangers of doing so. However, all too soon, it was over. It didn’t take long for a shape to climb out of the scales they had shed, shaking off a few pieces of extra skin and ragged things he wasn’t quite able to make out. With a stretch of their back, a pair of wings, ragged and sharp in all the right places, flapped outwards from behind him. As they came closer, it was more and more obvious that the person was not human. From the red-tipped horns pointing upwards from their head, to the obviously inhuman pair of bat-demonic wings, all the way down to their lower back, which sported an appendage that was reminiscent of one of his friend’s old card decks full of angels and hell-demons of long ago. The flat, spade like appendage sported the same color scheme as their horns, pitch at the base and a shade of maroon crimson, quite like blood, at the tip. It gave their body a form that certainly reminded him of the towering creature that loomed above him minutes before. Their white, glowing eyes had not changed either.
They stopped a few feet away from him.
“Happy now?” Skeppy hesitated for a moment, confused, before remembering it was just him in the room. “Ah, sorry, you look really...cool! And yeah, it’s all good. Thanks for not, clobbering me, I guess?’ Looking straight into the demon’s eyes, he learned, was a bit of a challenge. They were double his height, and certainly didn’t look like they cared much about changing it. They scoffed, but it didn’t seem to be an insult, more of a normal, reflexive reaction. “It’s fine. Are you going to go now?” Skeppy pondered that for a moment. “Perhaps, but...I wanted to know something- no, two things.” They leaned in closer, eyes narrowing in a look unrecognizable to him. Perhaps irritation? “First thing, what’s your gender and your name? And second…” He looked at him dead in the eyes, gaze unwavering, even though the glare that seemed to burn in his retinas tingled a bit on his face. “Do you get a lot of affection, as the ‘great demon of the nether’?” Putting air quotes around the title made the demon look the slightest bit annoyed at the gem, but he didn’t care much at all about it. “I am male. And my name's Badboyhalo, if you didn’t hear earlier.” He balked slightly at the last question. “Affection...What do you mean by that?”
A small gasp of shock ripped from his throat, but he tried to play it off with a cough. A questioning eyebrow dispelled that idea quickly. “Is it something rude? Did I say something wrong?” Badboyhalo growled lowly. “If you made me say something bad, I will not hesitate to send you back where you came from with a tapestry shredded on your back.” The gem hybrid winced at the imagery that flashed to mind. He flailed his arms a little, shaking his head vehemently. “No, no! I’m just a little…worried for you, is all.” A scoff. “Worried? For me? And not for you? You have a lot of nerves for a strider-rider.”
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haikyuuwriting · 3 years
Note
i just read your “forget it, you’re a fucking asshole” oikawa imagine and omg i- jskdjsksk
i know its been quite a while since it was posted but is it possible to ask for a part 2 where he struggles to move on and he sees the reader again then its hella angsty but with a hopeful ending? :(
hey thanks for sending this in!! I haven’t written a request in a while and this was super refreshing to write, so thank you!!
part one
The first few weeks adjusting to his new life went much better than he’d expected. He was way too busy meeting his new teammates, unpacking, and getting a feel of this new country he’d be living in, to think of anything other than the tasks he was focusing on. But when he went to bed three weeks after moving in, he wasn’t as tired as he had been, and his mind wandered to a conversation he’d had with Iwa-chan two weeks ago. 
Iwa-chan had called to check in on him, to see how he was settling in. Oikawa almost started crying—he was so relieved to hear a familiar voice. And piled on top of that was the lingering regret of the breakup. Now that he’d arrived in his new empty apartment, with no one to call or talk to, he was missing Y/N more than ever. He didn’t think that was possible, but the ache in his chest was so much stronger than it had been when they were dating and they weren’t together. He remembered that ache well; lying awake restless at night thinking of what Y/N was doing in that instant until he caved and would send them a text, and they’d immediately respond, teasing him for missing them.
Oikawa didn’t ask about Y/N, and Iwa-chan didn’t bring it up. He knew Iwa-chan would yell at him if he dared to ask about them, and this killed his dwindling courage to ask. Iwa-chan said he’d check in later in the month if he wasn’t busy, and when he hung up Oikawa was left with the ringing silence of his apartment.
Two months later he started training with his new teammates, and the time spent alone with his thoughts lessened considerably. On off days he took to wandering around the city exploring, or finding plants to fill his apartment with, remembering the window sill of his mom’s kitchen back home and the way it was always filled with plants. 
But no matter what he did, he couldn’t forget about Y/N. He’d downloaded dating apps and gone on a couple of dates, and no matter how much he enjoyed them he couldn’t bring himself to agree to a second date. He was starting to get frustrated with himself, scared he’d let it start to affect his playing. But none of his teammates or coach had yet to say anything about it, which relieved him. 
Before he knew it his off season was here, and he’d listen quietly to his teammates talk about returning home for a while to visit family. Oikawa still hadn’t decided if he’d leave for Japan. He did miss his family, but he also had a nagging feeling as though he should stay for now. He mentioned it to Iwa-chan through text in passing, and received a heated reply nearly a week later.
Stupidkawa. Stop being such a wuss, if you run into Y/N nothing bad will happen. When are you coming back, I might be able to kick your ass if I’m home at the same time as you.
This earned a laugh out of Oikawa. Unfortunately, though their schedules didn’t match up. But Oikawa made up his mind to head home for a bit. His parents were delighted, and Takeru was already making plans for playing volleyball with him as soon as he landed. 
He left his plants under the care of one of his teammates who was staying in the city and then he was off, catching his flight just before it left and settling into his seat with his stomach filled with nerves. He knew they weren’t about the flight—he was unnervingly nonchalant about airplanes. Oikawa was nervous about the small chance he’d run into Y/N, and what he’d say to them.
When their relationship was all he thought about, he practically had an apology memorized. That was months ago, though, and now he had no clue what he’d say to them. 
When he landed, Takeru and his older sister were there to take him home, and Oikawa felt his eyes teared up as he hugged them. He loved his apartment and his new friends, but now he was realizing he truly had missed home. The first few days back in Japan were a blur. Oikawa spent a lot of it telling stories to Takeru and playing volleyball with him, and helping his mom cook. He even made plans to meet up with old friends in the next few weeks. Things to look forward to.
One Saturday he found himself in an empty house. His parents had gone out to watch a movie together, and his sister and Takeru were busy at their own house, so he had the day to himself. His feet carried him out the door and down familiar streets. Streets he’d walked with Y/N, places they’d frequented often. 
He scanned faces as he crossed streets and peeked into stores, unconsciously searching for them. 
Until he finally found them.
He was grabbing lunch at one of his favorite small restaurants, the one he’d not so coincidentally brought Y/N on for their first date. He was settling down to wait for his food when he glanced up to see someone who’d just walked into the restaurant. They turned to look at him, as if drawn toward him, and when their eyes met Oikawa's his breath caught in his throat and his heartbeat sped up.
Y/N froze, eyes still trained on him, their expression unreadable. Oikawa was sure he was gaping at them like a fish, and he even felt his cheeks warming up slightly. He quickly glanced away, choosing to look intently at his phone, pretending to scroll through it. Anything to avoid eye contact. He hears Y/N order and sees them sit down at a nearby table out of the corner of his eye. He can’t tell if they’re looking over at him. He sincerely hopes not. 
Months of suppressing feelings begins to bubble up inside of him to the point where he feels unwell. A waiter brings him his food and he barely manages a thank you despite feeling infinitely grateful for a new distraction.
He swears he can feel Y/N watching him as he starts to eat. He’s glad he can’t see them well. If he could actually see them glaring at him he doesn’t know if he could ever recover. As he eats Oikawa tries to talk himself into going over to talk to them, finally apologizing for what he did. Because that had been his biggest regret of all— making Y/N feel as though they weren’t even worth his time. They were everything to him, and in the end he hadn’t shown that at all. 
He stands up abruptly just as the waiter is handing Y/N their to-go order. Shit. Oikawa hadn’t been paying attention. Of course they wouldn’t be eating here. 
He walks to where they are still sitting as the waiter scurries off. “Can I sit?” He almost sighs in relief when Y/N gives him a small nod.
“I am truly sorry for how I ended things. You didn’t deserve my shitty excuse of a breakup and the shitty way I told you, especially because you meant so much to me. I should’ve told you in person, and not doing so is my fault and I’m so sorry.” He exhales as he finishes, relaxing his shoulders as though the weight of his regret has literally been lifted off. “I don’t expect you to accept my apology or say anything, I just needed to apologize to you. It killed me that I didn’t get the chance to when I left.”
He moves to get up, to shamefully walk back to his table and drink some of his water to get rid of his dry throat, when Y/N puts their hand up, as if wanting to reach over to stop him. He freezes, watching them as they quickly retract their outstretched hand, letting it rest in their lap.
“I know that’s not how you wanted things to go. I’m sorry I never gave you the chance to apologize. And I’m sorry I ignored your calls and text messages. Iwaizumi called me, you know.” Oikawa flinches at this. “He told me how sad you sounded on the phone. He wanted me to at least hear you out, but I was still so heartbroken I refused. A lot of the hurt is my fault, too. So I’m sorry, Tooru.”
They move to stand up, grabbing their bag of take out. Oikawa stands too, moving out of their way after he pushes his chair in. Y/N is watching him, eyes trained on his every move as he sits back at his table a few feet away. They move closer, a small smile on their lips. “I’ll call you later, is that okay?”
He desperately needs that drink of water now. He manages a nod, and Y/N smiles in farewell before leaving. The sound of the bell above the door rings in his ear long after they’re gone, and he welcomes it, thankful for any other ringing besides the silence of his once lonely apartment. 
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avnkin · 4 years
Text
THE BET ( jj maybank. )
Chapter 8 - Intoxicating
word count: 2k
warnings: mentions of sex, foul language, alcohol & the usual dash of angst
author’s note: it’s been a while but i’m getting my inspo back finally lmao hope you enjoy this chapter gif is by @heapass also veins oml
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You and JJ hadn’t spoken a word to each other after what had happened. You’d just laid silently in his bed, listening to each other’s heavy breaths as you got your heartbeat to slow down from your previous endeavours.
“So what does this mean?” JJ was the first to break the silence as he rolled over to look up at you.
“Uh- i’m not sure, do you want this to mean something?” you hesitantly asked moving down a little so you were at eye level with each other.
“Yeah I do, but I think I may need some time to get over you and Rafe- I just can’t get the image of you two together out of my head”
That sentence made your blood boil, even if you wanted to get back together you weren’t about to let him blame you for everything that went wrong in your relationship.
“JJ are you being serious right now? It’s not like I cheated on you, we were broken up when I kissed Rafe!” you chided getting out of the bed, covering your naked body with his bed sheets.
“I don’t care and I wouldn’t have minded it as much if it had been anyone but Rafe! He’s made all of our lives living hells for the last year- I mean he nearly cost Pope his job! So it’s not because you made out with someone it’s who it was with!” JJ snapped back getting out of bed after you, quickly pulling on his boxers.
“You’re such an asshole! I don’t even know how I thought of getting back together with you!” you retorted hastily walking around the room in an attempt to find your clothes.
Once you finally managed to get fully dressed you went to unlock the door but JJ pulled you back before you could leave.
You quickly snatched your hand out of his grasp not giving him a chance to talk “give me a call once you’ve decided to stop being a self absorbed asshole” you grumbled slamming his bedroom door shut in his face.
You stormed out of the chateau still adjusting your clothes, when Kiara pulled into the driveway with Pope and John B, perfect timing.
“Hey-“ Pope started but was cut off by you crashing into his shoulder as you stormed past your three clueless friends.
“What was that about” Pope questioned turning to Kiara and John B who stood there, bewildered at your sudden outburst.
“Fuck” Kiara mumbled once she remembered the reason you’d been here in the first place, practically running into the chateau to find JJ.
“What the hell happened!?” Kiara shrieked as she pushed open the door into JJ’s room who just shook his head and let himself fall down onto his mattress.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he shrugged her off not bothering to look up at her.
“Don’t give me that bullshit JJ, I drove Y/N here earlier so you two could make up and then I see her practically crying running out of here so what happened!”
“It didn’t work out alright! We’re not getting back together and we’re not gonna be friends again, okay!?”
“was that your decision or hers?” Kiara countered.
“Hers! or- I mean I just told her that it would take time to get over the thing with Rafe and she just lost it!”
“JJ are you kidding me? You dated her for a bet and she was able to forgive you for that and you’ve got the audacity to be mad at her for something she did when you were broken up! Come on JJ you’re better than that”
“But its Rafe-“ Kiara quickly cut him off.
“I know! Do you think I like the fact she chose him of all guys to be with? But she was hurting because she thought that the guy she really wanted was only with her for money, you both need to sort your shit out because this is getting really tiring for all of us” she spoke gesturing towards her, Pope and John B who stood in silence behind her clearly taken aback by her words.
JJ scoffed not bothering to respond simply pulling a shirt over his head and walking past the three pogues towards the front door.
“You’re just gonna leave?” Kiara chided following after him “yeah I am” he replied coldly before slamming the door shut in her face.
Tears were furiously running down your cheeks as you walked the road down the cut that lead to figure 8.
Deciding to walk home maybe hadn’t been the brightest idea you had, it was so hot you thought you were going to pass out but you refused to spend another minute with JJ.
A sudden honk from behind you made you jerk around, only picking up your pace when you saw Wards all to familiar jet black Range Rover, not needing to guess twice as to who was sat in the drivers seat.
“Y/N?” Rafe leaned out the window as he pressed on the break just enough so he was able to drive alongside you.
“Go away” you replied curtly beginning to walk even faster although you knew your chances of outrunning a car were not in your favor.
“Come on Y/N let me drive you home you’re gonna melt out here in this heat” he sounded sincere his eyebrows contorting, silently begging for you to get into the car.
You came to an abrupt halt as you turned to face him arm crossed over your chest. You had two options one walk home in the burning heat which would probably take you around two hours or get into the car with Rafe and have to endure his company for 10 minutes.
You went with the latter huffing before pulling the door handle and getting into the car without a word, although you couldn’t contain the moan that slipped past your lips once the cool air from the AC met your flaming skin.
“Y/N I just wanted to-“ he began but you cut him off raising your index finger towards his face “stop I don’t wanna hear it just drive me home” he nodded obviously disappointed but kept on driving either way.
Once you pulled into your driveway he gave you one last pleading look but you didn’t give him a chance to talk muttering a small thanks before slipping out of the passenger seat and slamming the car door shut in his face.
You were in desparate need of a shower your sweaty skin beginning to stick to the shirt that loosely hung over your body.
You decided to push all thoughts of JJ into the back of your mind as you turned the shower on wanting nothing more than to take back the fact that you’d gone and slept with him.
“Idiot” you mumbled shaking your head the warm water travelling down your body the only comfort you felt you needed right now.
Just as you began to feel the corner of your eyes brim with tears you were startled to hear the bathroom door open.
“What the hell!” you shrieked once you saw Kiara walk in with a large purple backpack slung over her shoulder.
“That door was locked!” you yelled hurriedly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself.
“I know that’s why I have a knife” she deadpanned before placing the silver object she’d obviously stolen from your kitchen on the bathroom counter.
“What do you want Kie?” you huffed finally stepping fully out of the shower and onto the white tiled floor.
“You, me” she lifted up the backpack she’d been holding “and our dear friend vodka”
“I love you” you gushed grabbing the bag out of her hands and walking into your bedroom gently placing it on your bed.
“What’s the occasion?” you turned to face her “the occasion is a party down at the cut” she smiled sitting down on your bed unzipping the bag revealing the numerous amount of white claws and the huge bottle of vodka.
“God are you trying to kill me? you know i’m a lightweight” you gaped at the numerous beverages but still grabbed a white claw quickly opening it and taking a large sip.
“Who said any of this was for you” she raised an eyebrow an amused smile playing at her lips “shut up” you laughed.
“You owe me this whole thing is your fault” you took another sip out of the can before it was harshly ripped away from you the liquid spilling all over your arm.
“Oh so it’s my fault you hooked up with Rafe” Kiara placed a hand on her hip as she held the white claw up with her other hand.
“No” you snatched the drink back before continuing “it’s your fault that I went to JJ’s which ultimately led to the decision of me sleeping with him and making a complete fool of myself in the progress”
“Fair enough” she surrendered “get ready we need to be down at the beach in half an hour”
Once you’d made it down to the beach you’d already downed four white claws and three shots the alcohol running through your veins making you feel dizzy as you walked alongside Kie towards the crowd of teenagers all packed together around the keg watching as a girl you didn’t recognised stood in a handstand downing the beer without a struggle.
“I could do that” you slurred Kiara’s head turning in the direction you were looking “no you couldn’t” she chuckled dragging you towards John B and Pope who looked beyond shocked to see you.
“Y/N?” John B looked almost panicked as he abruptly stood up his eyes frantically beginning to dart all over the beach before stopping and widening as he looked at something behind you.
You turned to where his eyes were directed and you were horrified at the sight before you. There he was none other than JJ Maybank himself with his tongue shoved down some girls throat.
“That asshole!” you practically growled throwing the white claw you held down onto the sand as you made a bee line towards him, Kiara frantically picking up the can before following after you.
“Real classy J” you sneered a scowl resting on your face as you gave him the most disgusted look you could muster.
“Y/N” was all he said as he turned to face you, he didn’t even look sorry.
“So this is your way of trying to repair our relationship” you shot at him and the girl quickly stood up practically running away from the scene unfolding before her.
“Hey i’m just doing what you’ve been doing all along” he replied curtly standing up to face you.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean JJ” you were surprised at your ability to form a whole sentence since you didn’t exactly see straight, but this whole exchange seemed to be sobering you up.
“I saw you earlier getting into that car with Rafe!”
“What? you were following me?”
“Yes! Because I wanted to come and apologise for how I acted but clearly I was right all along!”
“JJ I didn’t ask him for a ride or call him he offered and I accepted because because I didn’t really feel like walking all the way from the cut back home in the burning heat!” a hint of regret washed over his face at your words but you continued “It doesn’t even matter I don’t have to explain myself to you”
He was about to open his mouth and say something but you didn’t give him the chance. “We’re over and this time I mean it”
You suddenly became more aware of the crowd that had begun to gather around you and you quickly turned around pushing your way past the teenagers that were huddled behind you.
“Are you okay?” a frantic voice belonging to Kiara sounded from beside you.
You swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in your throat and turned to face her pasting on a fake smile as you did.
“I’m fine” you knew she didn’t buy it but she could tell from the look in your eyes that you were silently begging her not to press on it any further, you wanted to have fun tonight and you were not going to let JJ get in the way of that.
“Come on let’s get drunk”
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