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pandajaye · 4 years ago

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Todoroki Family Ties (Parts 5-6)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: mention of harsh discipline,

Part 5

Enji explained everything. The whole entire full length truth. He explained what happened to Rei. What she did to Shoto’s eye. What he did to Touya. It flipped her reality completely.

“Thank you for letting me open up about all this. It’s not all easy to admit to. I’m so sorry for not telling you the truth.”

She felt kind of bad for the guy. But she really felt bad for Rei. The guilt she must have in her soul for what she did. For what he pushed her to do. Would it happen to her too? Whatever. She didn’t want to think about that anymore right now. Instead, she snuggled close to him again.

“Let’s just talk about it later. Today was kind of wild wasn’t it? I’m lucky that Shoto called you when he did. I probably would’ve been ashes if he hadn’t done something.”

Her snuggles were met with some of his own. Kisses even. He really was sweet when he wanted to be.

“It was and you’re absolutely right. Because of him, you’re still in my arms. He’s a good kid. Still learning to be tough, of course. Maybe I’ll give him a break tomorrow too and just train with Touya. You and Shoto could just spend some time together.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun. I think he’d really like that. Good idea.”

The next day, Shoto and stepmama Ivy, got to have fun and relax.

They practiced some yoga:

“Okay, Shoto. Let’s try downward dog.” *stretches* “Now you try.”

Shoto attempts the pose successfully and flawlessly.

“Did I do it? I think I did it!!”

“You did! You got it! Good job, Sho! Now, try to keep your balance and reach out with your left arm and lift your right leg. Like this.”

She moves to position and takes a deep breath, coming out of position to observe Shoto. He struggles a bit, but completes the goal and sits back down.

“Awesome! Our next pose is gonna be a little harder. Think you’re up for it?”

“Yeah! I’m ready for anything!”

“Good attitude! So, I know your dad has this idea that being a hero means being all hard and tough. But you have to learn how to be flexible and balanced. You must relax and focus so that you can attack efficiently. Always keep in mind that you have to be able to adapt to successfully strategize and defeat your opponent.”

While she was talking, she bent into the side crow post with grace and ease, balancing on nothing but her hands.

“I can do it! Watch me!”

Shoto attempted the same pose but struggled to hold himself up, falling back down.

“Dang it! I’ll try again.”

He tried again. The same result but he fell down a little quicker.

“Hey, maybe it’s time to take a brea-“

“NO!! I can do it!”

Another attempt and another fall. She could tell he was getting tired but he was really determined.

“Okay. Just remember: relax, focus, and breathe. You got this.”

He tried again. And slipped again, starting to get a little upset. Not a little. A good bit actually. Shoto stood up and stomped around.

“NOOO! NO NO NO NO!”

Ivy sat in front of him, reaching her hands out.

“Hey, Shoto. It’s okay! Calm down. Just breathe.”

He should really take her advice. He was starting to get as red as his own hair. There were tears in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

“I promise I’ll get it, I promise! I’ll work harder and get stronger and-“

“Shoto Todoroki. Take a seat and breathe. Hold my hands.”

Shoto listened and sat down in front of her, putting his little hands in hers. His left hand was really warm but his right hand was cool. Must be his quirk.

“Breathe with me. Deep breath in.”

They inhaled together.

“Deep breath out.”

They exhaled together.

“Now. Why do you feel so strongly about this? It’s literally just yoga. It’s supposed to be fun.”

He wiped his eyes but thinking about why he was getting so frustrated made him cry more.

“And.... I’m supposed to be number one. I’m not s-supposed to fail. Failure is bad. Bad is weakness. Weakness is punishable.”

Ivy didn’t hesitate to pull Shoto into her lap and hug him tight. Every sniffle made her heart sad.

“Sho.... It’s okay. You’re not training with your dad. We’re having a fun day off together. Me and you. You’re safe with me. Life is going to be challenging. You’re not always going to achieve your goal right away. I didn’t come out the wound bending like a pretzel, honey. It took me a long time to master a move like that. You’re only seven years old, you’re not expected to be able to hold up your own body weight. But it also doesn’t mean that you’re not strong. We’ll work on it another day if you’re still determined. Let’s rest your arms and have a snack and relax.”

Shoto wiped his face again and stood up.

“Can we cuddle and watch a movie too?”

“It’s your day off. We can do whatever we want. If that’s what you wanna do, let’s do it!”

When he got up she crouched to wipe his face and kiss his forehead, standing up and holding his hand. After an arm massage, a snack, and a movie, cuddle included, he felt a lot better. They both did. The movie finished just in time for Touya and Enji to return. That’s when Ivy discovered Shoto had fallen asleep. She let him sleep for a little longer while she made dinner.

“What did you guys do while Touya and I were out?”

She shrugged.

“Nothing much. Just some yoga. But.... we need to talk about his emotional health. He got really upset when he couldn’t do this one pose. I don’t know. Does the phrase ‘Weakness is punishable’ sound familiar to you?”

Enji looked from the floor to the wall. He really tried to pretend he didn’t hear what she just said.

“Touya did good today. Not great. Just good.”

“Enji. He’s seven. You can’t keep pushing him so hard. It’s gonna backfire on you. It probably already has with Touya.”

“He’s fine, Ivy. It’s what he needs to push himself.”

“Why does he need to push himself? The only pushing he should be dealing with is on a swing.”

“What did I tell you about trying to tell me what my kids need?!”

The two froze when Shoto shuffled. Maybe if Mr. Hellfire didn’t raise his voice he wouldn’t have woken up. He yawned before rubbing the sleep away and looking at them.

“Is dinner ready yet?”

She rolled her eyes at Enji and gave him a warm smile.

“Almost, Sho. Can you go ahead and get your brother and wash your hands please?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

Shoto slid off the couch and headed to Touya’s room, sort of stumbling from still being a little tired. Back in the kitchen, Ivy glared at Enji, her voice lowered to a whisper.

“We WILL talk about this later.”

“Fine with me, urchin.”

“Whatever, flaming bookshelf.”

Sometimes people do outta pocket shit. People like Enji. Who for some reason thought it was hot for her to call him a flaming bookshelf and smacked her ass and walked off. She gasped and grabbed a wooden spoon and threw it at the back of his head, trying not to laugh.

“BOOOYYYY IF YOU DON-”

Part 6

The incident with Touya was three days ago. Enji and Ivy continued to argue about how they should handle the situation before coming to the conclusion that they’d just talk to him. For a good 20 minutes, he sat on one side of the living room and they sat across from him. Enji and Touya had a glaring contest and Ivy just tried to smile so he wouldn’t have to feel like he was in big trouble, not that he broke eye contact with Enji to even notice her anyways.

Finally, Ivy broke the awkward silence.

“Sooooo.... Touya. Your father and I just wanted to talk to you about the other d-“

“Apologize.”

“No.”

This is where the trouble starts. Something is always going to go wrong when someone interrupts someone else. Especially if there’s two people that butt heads constantly.

“Hun, I got this. So. Touya. Is there anything that you want to say about what happened? Would you like to explain what you were feeling?”

Since she was being so nice about it, he decided to answer her. He rolled his eyes and adjusted himself before speaking.

“Listen. I’m sure you’re a nice person, but to be honest.... I think you’re weak, I think you’re sensitive, and I think you’re useless. I FEEL like you think you can replace my mom but you don’t even have a quirk! You’re literally nothing but some wench off the street looking for home, stray.”

“ALRIGHT THAT’S IT! YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME RESPECT, INGRATE!!“

“YOU AND ME OLD MAN, LET’S GO!!”

They were about to hurt each other but Ivy interfered before any damage was done.

“Enji, just go check on Shoto! I’LL talk to him. Alone.”

Enji growled before stomping off to the door to check on his youngest playing outside, while Touya sat back down with a huff. Now it was just the two of them.

“Touya.... I know this isn’t just about me or your mom not being here. I know how hard he pushes you. I know what your dad does to push you, and past your limits at that. You’re still a kid. A teenager. Life is already so hard for you. Psychologically especially. You’re growing up. Going through puberty. Liking people more than in just a friendly way. Reading magazines-“

“Oh god, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!”

She did stop, since she was only kidding, and laughed at his reaction.

“I’m just messing with you, kid. But seriously. I know it’s hard and I see the resentment in your face. I also see the stress you’re giving yourself. I know that that pain and frustration you projected onto me the other day, was a little bit cause, y’know, I’m not Rei. And I know that in that aspect, I can’t change anything. *sigh* But I still want to do my best to protect you guys. Because I really do care about you. I am so proud of you and the strength and determination that you show. I don’t know if your father ever acknowledges it, but this is me acknowledging it. Good job, Touya. You’re my number one hero.”

At first, he tried to sit there and pretend like he hadn’t heard a single word she had said. He was almost convincing until the ends of his mouth quivered. Until he wiped his face with his forearm. Until he got up and walked over to her and couldn’t look her in the eyes. Just stood in front of her. It wasn’t for nothing. She knew what was happening. He needed to be held, so that’s what she did. She embraced him with open arms and a squeeze to reassure him that he was safe with her. That she would do anything to protect him. That he was worthy and more than just a masterpiece.... that he was someone that was loved obviously instead of just the absence of negative moments.

She could feel him shaking when he cried. He needed this, he was positive-touch starved. Jesus.

“I’m r-really s-sorry.... for what happened.... for everything I said....”

Ivy rubbed his back before pulling back to look at him and wipe his face.

“I forgive you. More importantly. Did you like the dinner I put out in front of your door that night?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. It was great-“

“SCORE ONE FOR STEPMAMA!! WOOHOO!! Sorry, I love cooking. I also love you.”

“Back at ya.”

He smiled and headed to his room. Ivy took a deep breath, feeling accomplished. At least.... before Enji ran back inside in panic and looking upset. He’d been running around, there was sweat on his face.

“SHOTO’S GONE!!”

“....W-What?”

#todoroki family ties #bnha au #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #endeavor #enji #dabi #touya #shoto #todoroki #endeavor x black!reader #endeavor x reader #enji x black!reader #enji x reader #enji todoroki #touya todoroki #shoto todoroki #bnha #mha

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chunhua-s · 4 years ago

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congrats on your milestone event!!! id like to request for kita soulmate!au with angst to fluff genre 👉👈 yknow sumn rejection shit bcs im hopeless like that wehee once again congrats! and i love your writing style :3

anon you’re gonna make me cry 🥺 seriously i’m happy you enjoy my writing and that you think my style’s okay! most of the time i go off of what kind of feelings i get when i’m writing or the imagery that comes up in my head and i’m never sure that it translates well enough for you guys to feel or see the same thing. hopefully as i keep writing then i’ll be able to show you guys what’s on my mind better when i’m writing! thank you again for requesting — seriously, it means a lot! and like always, you guys, don’t be afraid to come and talk to me on and off anon! your interactions mean a lot, especially for content creators! we love hearing what you all think, what you like/dislike about our work, what you think of certain characters — absolutely anything! come and talk with us more whenever you can 💕

writing for kita feels calming somehow. normally the things that come up in my chest or my mind when i write gets nearly overwhelming if that makes sense? like i’ll have to pause and remind myself to breathe because it takes up so much of my attention that i kinda get lost, but with kita, it feels more flowey to me. it’s not demanding but more like a gentle coaxing kind of thing or like looking at the surface of a calm river. i was initially scared to write for him because i was worried i wouldn’t get him right, but i feel satisfied with how this turned out, i think. i hope you guys will find it as calming as i found it too! it might not be exactly what you wanted, but because i had already written the rejection of a person for atsumu’s soulmate oneshot, i wanted to play around with kita’s character and make it instead the rejection of a concept/idea? which would indirectly lead to him... you know, rejecting his soulmate initially, but— ahhhhhh it might make sense to just read it!! these rambles keep getting longer and longer :v i’m sorry for that!! please go ahead and read and tell me what you think in the end! 💕

NOTNING MORE THAN HUMAN ➽ KITA SHINSUKE x READER

genre: angst to fluff

au: soulmate

warnings: none

shinsuke kita is human.

and of course, that much is obvious. he isn’t a machine that’s incapable of feelings and emotions, whose heart is unfamiliar with melodies of an overwhelming joy, or the quiet hymns of deep rooted sadness. his skin still burns under righteous fury and anger, his tongue still weighs heavy under hesitance and silent worries. at the end of every long day, he’s still human.

it’s because he’s human that the words on his collarbone feel so heavy, as if they might cave into the bone and destroy him under their weight. it’s because he’s human that the sight of black markings in the mirror clouds his mind with a new kind of fear and worry. shinsuke kita is human, but he’s long since taught himself how to abandon anxiety and nervousness. he surrounds himself in familiar routines that calm the turbulent voices of doubt, he builds habits that ground him to the earth lest he should be swept away by the current. shinsuke has taught himself not to be afraid for the things that will happen everyday, but meeting his soulmate isn’t one of those things he can prepare for.

it’s a strange concept, he considers to himself. shinsuke doesn’t believe in words like fate or destiny, doesn’t care for the higher powers that should judge his actions. as far as he’s concerned, his own will is what dictates where his life goes — he’s in control, and that’s how it’s always been for him. let the gods watch, if they must, but he’s already decided that he’ll live by what is right, and he wouldn’t dare falter in the face of it. and yet — and it’s such a strange thing for him to do so — he pauses under the notion of a soulmate, of a destined partner who’s supposedly bound to him for as long as he should live. at first, he hadn’t given the idea much thought; it wouldn’t serve any purpose to worry about something that would happen whether or not he wants it, he decided. the truth of it is inevitable, just as the leaves must fall in autumn and the earth should be buried under clouds of white in winter. shinsuke is human — what more can he do but to accept it?

the black words that spread across his skin like droplets of ink became the bitter seeds of doubt that he hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it? the sentence by itself is so bland, like something maybe aran or anyone else might say to him in passing, and at first, it didn’t shake him too much, until he was caught one day under a sudden summer storm. seventeen year old kita somehow found himself stranded beneath a small shelter, where the wooden covering could protect him more than his umbrella until the rain passed. it was nearly unconscious, but he somehow found himself on edge, his breath faltered with the harsh pitter patter of rainfall that tumbled from green leaves and tore ripples from the surface of the lake. shinsuke kita found himself with a stomach full of butterflies and a thundering heartbeat that stole him away from solace and calm, cast the peace that he would so often carry with him away and left him stranded among chopping waves. every trembling breath he took stung on cold air and left him with a burning feeling on his lungs. it’s unfamiliar in its presence and shakes him to his core, but shinsuke kita is reminded of his own humanity when he realizes that what he feels, is anticipation and nervousness.

and it’s an odd thing. as he becomes aware of it, he finds himself twisting his fingers together during spring time; he worries his bottom lip between his teeth during unexpected showers. he feels like a child who stands in line to ride a roller coaster for the first time in his life — wide-eyed and drowning in the millions of feelings that race throughout his body. the feeling itself is nothing new, though it’s unfamiliar and intense in its ferocity and demand, seizes his heart and squeezes so tightly that whenever it rains, he’s left breathless.

it’s almost enough to drive him mad.

his very foundation seems to fall apart with the thunder that rolls across grey skies. for every drop of rain that hits the pavement, he finds himself a jittery mess as his heartbeat tears through his chest. the man who taught himself to abandon his fears reverts into the young boy who watched out for god, for the higher beings who watched his every move. and the thought that comes with every brilliant bolt of lightning burns him just as hotly, invasive and demanding when it flashes through his mind on a single, low whisper:

will you be happy?

shinsuke kita is human. he learns as he sees and lives as he’s learned, and what he saw growing up was that soulmates were bounded together till death do them part. a connection that’s set deep in stone, never to be erased by unforgiving weather and to persevere during the cruelest of storms. it’s an inevitable reality that the gods designed, so that mortals like himself should dance on stage and tell them a story. but shinsuke knows that not all these stories have a happy ending.

there are plays that end in tragedy and loss, those that only knew memories of pain and sang with death’s violin. man becomes the actor to a play that he has no choice in and dances on the puppet master’s strings, he surrenders control and gives himself up to the music, and he has no way of knowing the end of it until the curtains should fall. shinsuke has never been one to lay down his will, and yet, as winter melts once more into gray rain clouds and scattered showers, he’s reminded of his mortality, of the fate that’s been sealed away in the falling of rain. shinsuke kita is human, and so he must, like all men do, bend to fate’s will and never utter a word against her.

and for a long time, the sentiment caused him to completely reject the idea of a soulmate.

that feeling of helplessness that would wash over him with the rain turned into a bitterness that crushed his lungs between tightened fist. the acceptance of an inevitable waltz — whether it be to eternal happiness or to a cruel melody — turned into rebellious loathing that spat in the face of destiny. it’s entirely childish in its tale, like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he doesn’t want to give up his precious toy. that toy is his control, the power he had to live his life by his truth, not by that of a higher being. he’s human, after all, and humans are selfish and resentful by nature.

he finds himself with a heavy chest today, as well, as he waits for the pouring rain to subside. the small shelter in the middle of the garden park is familiar, and carries with it the memories of his epiphany, the one that created thunder storms in his once tranquil heart, and for that, he hates this place. the sound of the rain hitting the roof is like nails scratching against the chalkboard; the sound of droplets hitting the lake like an annoying whining that he can’t get out of his head. shinsuke curses this little pocket away from the world with all the childish anger in the world — let it be damned that doing so wouldn’t change anything. for once, he let himself go on a petty grudge against the universe, and against that looming stage and its heavy curtains.

it’s nearly faint, but he picks up on the patter-patter of footfalls that quickly approach him, and he turns bronze coloured eyes to find your rain-drenched figure running for shelter under the little gazebo. you’re out of breath by the time you make it underneath, letting out an exhausted and frustrated sigh as you press your hands to your knees, and shinsuke finds himself sympathizing with the way you bitterly push your hair from your face. you’re an ordinary office worker, from what he can see; you’ve hidden what looks to be a messenger back beneath your coat, leaving you to tremble in a thin button-up. this day’s downpour had been sudden, unexpected as spring would soon surrender to the approaching summer, and he imagines that he would have been in a similar position as yourself had he not packed his umbrella beforehand.

a silence settles over the both of you that’s only broken by the heavy rain, but the presence of it is so soothing that shinsuke finds himself breathing on a lighter air. suddenly the smell of petrichor turns sweeter, the melody of raindrops melting into a distant lullaby, and for the first time, shinsuke feels his heart melt under an indescribable sense of warmth despite the weather. and when your eyes turn to find his, a helpless grin on your lips, he feels that warmth explode under summer fireworks and coarse throhgh his veins like liquid lightning.

“it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it?”

for the second time in his life, shinsuke has an epiphany under the shelter in the garden.

he feels every bit of resentment vanish on a sudden gust of wind, one that sends raindrops splashing against his skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. not when grey clouds suddenly reveal to him pillars of sunlight that embrace your figure and makes you glow against a background of green leaves. the rain turns into something sweet and enticing, and it suddenly gives shinsuke this unexplainable urge to grab your hand and dance with you underneath the pouring showers, where he can hear your voice ring out on chimes of laughter and innocent bliss. in mere seconds, he manages to let go of the dark clouds that he’d unintentionally harboured on his chest, he let them burst with the weight of anger and childish fury so that they would hit the earth on giant droplets of rain.

shinsuke kita is human — he’s imperfect, mortal. he feels and he thinks and he speaks what’s on his mind. he can hate, and he can love: he can make that decision on whether or not to hold useless grudges and to curse a destiny he can’t change, or to welcome that inevitability with the willingness to learn and grow.

today, as he stands beneath a wooden shelter, hiding from the heavy rains, he decides to stretch his hand out and let the water hit his skin.

davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕

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#kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita x reader scenario #kita x reader imagine #kita x y/n #kita x reader angst #kita x reader fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader imagine #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader fluff #davi hits 200! ✨#haikyuu!! au event 💫

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wincestismyguiltypleasure · 4 years ago

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Warnings: Weecest, a little angsty, jealous!Sam, bratty, emotional, and confused baby brother content, feminization, name calling, humiliation, sadist!Dean, spankings, and of course, that sweet, sweet fucked up codependency. 💋

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Sam just wanted Dean's attention. He always had.

And when he didn't get it, Sam felt not only emotionally, but physically injured by his brother's "neglect." Like Dean had taken his switchblade to Sam's heart, cutting it open just a little bit to play with it. As if he was curious to what was inside. Like Dean had no clue know that every vein, artery, and nerve worked in unison for him.

And over the years, that small wound had ripped open wider and wider on it's own, even though it was no secret that Dean's life had always revolved around Sam.

Perhaps it was a product of Sam's jealousy? His resentment towards John and the unshakable devotion Dean showed him?

Sam didn't really know. But no matter the cause, what was once a dull ache in Sam's chest was now a blinding pain. The only hope of soothing it resting solely on his big brother's touch.

And the worst part about it? Dean knew. He knew Sam was desperate for something so simple as a sideways glance or a pat on the back. Sam would poke and prod and tug at the hem of Dean's shirt for just the slightest bit of recognition, like he really didn't know that he was already the very center of his big brother's entire world.

It was infuriating sometimes, and it made Dean want to be cruel just to prove a point. Besides, at the end of the day, Dean was still Sam's big brother. Ignoring him was part of Dean's job description. And maybe, just maybe, Dean got a sick sense of satisfaction out of making Sammy beg like a slut for something that was already his.

"Dean, c'mon! Pay attention!"

John had only been gone for ten minutes before Sam was shaking Dean's leg violently, trying to make his brother look up from the magazine he was reading.

"Jesus Christ, Sam. Can't you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?"

Dean doesn't have to see Sam's face to know the younger boy is pouting; the corner of his lips turning up in a twisted smirk at the thought of his little brother's pretty eyes starting to water.

There's no answer to Dean's question, just a loud huff and the sound of the bathroom door slamming, rusty screws barely keeping it on the hinges.

And if Dean didn't get such a kick out of being an asshole to his needy little brother he might have felt bad for hurting Sam's feelings. But he doesn't, mainly because this was all part of the sick, fucked up game they'd been playing since Sam had turned sixteen. This volatile give and take, back and forth, born out of Sam's misguided pain. The younger boy thinking that Dean loved John more than him and Dean's cutthroat determination to prove his little brother wrong. To show Sam that even if he isn't looking, he's still paying attention. And that he couldn't stop paying attention to Sam even if he tried.

Honestly, Dean still gets a little hot under the collar thinking about the first Sammy pushed his buttons like this. He'd been both mortified and so disgustingly turned on when he found out that his sweet baby brother knew just how to act bratty and coy to get fucked through the mattress. God, Dean was so pissed and guilty about it at the time that he'd almost thrown up afterwards.

Even now, Dean feels kinda queasy. But the feeling is so simple to ignore this go around because he's also rock hard and shaking a little from the anticipation.

Oh, and of course, Sam makes him wait. Almost two fucking hours. Tiny beads of water still dripping from the younger boy's long, dirty blonde hair when Sam finally emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of lacy blue panties and a triumphant smile.

"Seriously, Samuel?" Dean asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady as he tosses his magazine to the side and sits up.

But Sam, being the shameless little tease that he is, just grins wider and does a slow turn. Making sure to show off every sharp curve and flawless inch of sun kissed skin he had before looking over at Dean and giggling.

"Think you can ignore me now, big brother?"

Sam barely gets the words out before Dean is off the bed, marching over to him with purpose, not stopping until the two of them are only a few inches apart and his baby brother's eyes are wide with fear.

"What do you want, Sam?" The older boy asks through gritted teeth, even though the answer is so painfully obvious.

And even though it is, Sam can't say it. He's never been able to because it's Dean's job to know. Without Dean guiding the way, Sam's just a confused kid with a need so intense and overwhelming that it could swallow him whole. And it would, if it wasn't for Dean.

Dean knows what Sam wants, and Sam hates the fact that he doesn't hate his brother for making him feel this way.

But still, he can't talk and he can't explain, so instead Sam just whines. Taking a timid step forward into his brother's personal space, searching for pity with those big innocent doe eyes. And fuck, does that do the trick. Every. Single. Time.

"What, baby?" Dean asks again, this time softer, his expression lightening as he grabs Sam by the wrist to pull him closer.

"Dean."

Sam's knees feel wobbly. His heart threatening to pound out of his chest because there's nothing in the world more intoxicating and simultaneously terrifying than looking into Dean's gorgeous green eyes when they're full of rage and passion.

"You want this?" Dean's voice is rough, like cigarette smoke blown over shattered glass as he guides Sam's trembling hand between his thighs. Pressing his little brother's warm palm hard against his erection before he makes Sam squeeze just a little, the both of them letting out a breathy groan.

"Please Dean," Sam whimpers, knees nearly buckling when Dean leans forward with a filthy grin, cherry red lips ghosting lightly over Sam's. The older boy teasing him like he always did. Pretending like wasn't eventually going to give Sam everything he wanted and more.

"Say it."

Sam's stomach clenches at the command, throat going dry because he hates this part. (Or at least Sam pretends that he does.)

"I want..." Sam groans, eyes closed tight as Dean nuzzles against him, making Sam go crazy with need. "I want your cock. Please Dean."

When Sam hears Dean chuckle, a low, filthy sound that makes his insides feel unbearably hot, Sam almost starts crying again. He's so naive and inexperienced compared to Dean. And Dean knows Sam feels like an idiot when his big brother makes him talk dirty. Which is exactly why he does it. The bastard.

"I know you do, baby boy," Dean laughs as he takes a step back, and Sam swears he feels his heart detach and drop into his stomach. Long, bony fingers instinctively trying to curl around Dean's shirt but to no avail.

"Dean-"

Sam's temper tantrum is cut short when Dean sits down on the foot of the bed and raises a hand, the look on his face calm but dangerous and it makes Sam almost swallow his own tongue.

"C'mere and lay across my lap."

"Why should I?"

Sam's voice doesn't sound like his own when he challenges his brother. It's weak and breathless and honestly, Sam can't believe an apex predator like Dean didn't go for his throat right then and there.

"You've been buckin' for my attention all day, sweetheart. You got a better way to get it?"

God, Sam wishes he did because the last thing he wants is to give in so easily. But what Sam's been dying for is right here in front of him now. Ripped jeans wrapped tight around thick thighs that he'd sell his soul to be bent over and Sam isn't about to turn down an open invitation.

"Gotta hand it to you, little brother," Dean says when Sam's finally stretched out across his lap. Sam's pretty face, flushed and tear stained, hidden in the mattress as Dean starts to soflty rub circles against his ass. "Despite all that fuss, you really are an obdient little bitch."

"Fuc-"

Sam nearly gags on his insult when he feels Dean's palm, rough and warm, connect with his right ass cheek. The blow hard enough to make his whole body jerk, tears of frustration rather than pain starting to blur his vision as he squirms in Dean's lap.

"Dean, please," Sam begs, his tight panties completely soaked through as he rubs himself desperately against Dean's thigh. His cock so hard and swollen that he feels a little dizzy, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance in his mind. Every one of his nerve endings on fire as Dean continues his ruthless assault. Each gentle touch followed by a thunderous smack that Sam swears makes his teeth rattle.

"Hey, don't cry, baby boy," Dean whispers when one of his rough blows finally rips a sob from Sam's throat. "This is what you wanted right? My undivided attention?"

Sam chokes back the urge to tell Dean that he hates him. One, because he doesn't. They both know that. And two, because if Sam doesn't swallow his pride soon and play by Dean's rules, he knows he'll never get want he really wants. That's what all this is about after all. Sam's insatiable need and Dean's absolute willingness to provide.

"C'mon, Sammy. You're a smart kid, you know what your answer should be."

Sam's only response is a loud, wanton groan, his knuckles turning chalk white around the blanket beneath him when he feels the tip of Dean's finger, rough and slick with spit, tease his rim. Pressing just hard enough to make Sam's hips jerk, but not applying quite enough pressure to slip inside him.

"Yes," Sam croaks, daring to push back against his brother's finger only to be rewarded with a smack to his right ass cheek that makes him see stars. "This is what I wanted."

"I know it is, slut."

Dean's finger feels wetter this time, hotter. And Sam's not expecting his brother to push in so deep, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when Dean barely grazes his prostate, clearly torturing Sam for all the shit he'd put him through that day. An eye for an eye was most definitely the Winchester way.

"You want me to finger fuck this tight little pussy until you make a mess all over your cute panties, don't ya baby boy?"

"Yes! Fuck Dean please." Sam isn't even trying to hold back his sobs now, big salty tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiggles around in Dean's lap. Desperate for his big brother to fuck him deeper. But before he can get the leverage he needs, Sam's empty again, mouth hanging open as Dean's next blow makes his whole body rock forward involuntary, neglected cock throbbing painfully against the worn denim of his brother's jeans.

"I'll give you want you want, Sammy," Dean coos, caressing Sam's battered skin with his palm. "I always do. But first, I'm gonna teach you a lesson about acting like a brat."

Of course, Sam's been taught this lesson before and it hasn't seemed to stick. But it doesn't matter, because they both know as long as Sam craves his big brother's attention, Dean will gladly put him in his place give it to him.

#weecest #Wincest

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docholligay · 4 years ago

Text

A Silent Voice--Koe no Kitachi

This movie has come up a couple times for Eight Days and various other things I’ve done, which was basically all I knew about it, until it was sponsored as a one-off by @iscahwynn. The first time I watched the movie, I felt a lot of ways about it at once. It was certainly one of the most interesting “anime movies” that had ever been recommended to me, and had a capacity and quality of humanity that I really didn’t expect going into it.

As always, non-spoilery review leads, spoilers under the cut.

A Silent Voice, (Which is called The Shape of Voice on my subs) if you read the blurb, is about a boy trying to make restitution for a deaf girl he bullied horrendously in elementary school. That’s a fair assessment, but I also don’t think it’s a complete one. The movie is really about the nature of alienation and friendship, and how a lot of lonely people have at least some culpability for that loneliness. I don’t know if I would go so far as to say I liked it. I had some issues with it that I’ll go into in the longer spoiler review, but being as its on Netflix right now, if you have any interest in seeing it, I don’t think it’s a waste of time at all.

I”m not going to go through a play by play of the film itself, I figure if you’re reading this you’re familiar with the general narrative of the film and I’m not super interested in padding this out for the mere word count.

Also, the main character’s names are really similar: Shoko and Shoyo, so I’m going to call Shoyo by his patronymic, Ishida, for clarity.

You feel, or at least this viewer felt, nothing but sadness and frustration for poor Shoko, who did nothing but have the audacity to show up at school. One thing I think this movie does an excellent job with is showing how resentment creeps in over the most minor of accommodations. We see at first, the kids be taken in by the novelty of writing in Shoko’s notebook in order to accommodate her and talk to her. Then we see it turn annoying, when she wants to be brought into conversations on a regular basis, and they don’t want to do that. It turns to hatred and resentment, as it gets easier and easier to simply ignore her or make fun of her. When a teacher comes in to teach them some sign language at ten minutes a day, for all but one student, this is too much effort for them to make.

It escalates with Ishida himself repeatedly yanking her hearing aids out of her ears and throwing them out of the window, into the trash, etc, at one point ripping them out with such force that her ear bleeds. His punishment for this cruelty is essentially that his mother has to pay back, or choose to pay back, all the money lost for the hearing aids to Shoko’s mother, but on a more personal level, his classmates, actually faced with consequences, turn on him and implicate him as the sole actor in all of the cruelty aimed toward Shoko.

And I’m fine with him reaping the whirlwind, let’s not mistake that, but I do have one compelling question:

There are 106 schools for the D/deaf in Japan, and you couldn’t put your child into one of them? I have no idea if Japan has any equivalent of the ADA whatsoever, and the internet seems to suggest that the rights and education of D/deaf people in Japan is pretty woeful, but this really annoyed the shit out of me. I mean, I’m supposed to feel for Shoko, so I suppose that didn’t detract from what the movie wanted to do in that right, but man did it make me irritated with every single adult involved.

I think some of the most interesting things that come out of the movie are the ways in which it deals with depersonalization and isolation.

After we see Ishida’s fall from grace, if you will, when in middle school, people are (rightly) told that he’s a bully. People don’t want to be around him, and while, again, I do not feel particularly sorry for him, there’s definitely something deeply human and deeply disturbing about the way they make him the pariah of it all, even though they were mostly all involved in treating Shoko cruelly, or at the very least, at a distance. It’s easier to believe that it was Ishida’s sin specifically, and that they bear no responsibility for their part in the cruelty toward her.

When this happens, by the time we meet up with him, we see that he sees the world of people with the letter X across their faces, as a sign that he no longer thinks of them as people, more like objects or happenings that are best to be avoided. He goes so far as to say that he never looks anyone in the face anymore. Its a very visually powerful way of showing how Ishida, when he is hurt, walls himself off in the world, while, even when we see Shoko later, there’s no indication that she has done such (Though admittedly, the vast majority of the movie is through the eyes of Ishida)

It isn’t until Ishida defends Nagatsuka, a fat kid with curly hair, from getting his bike stolen by giving his up as an option instead, that he begins to see people in any different way. And it isn’t even in the moment that he does something, but when Nagatsuka returns his bike, found in a rice field, that the x falls away from his face and he begins to see someone as a fully realized human. A cynical viewer, who might be me, would see this as an acknowledgement that Ishida’s problem is not seeing people outside of their relationship to and treatment of him. That it is only with returned kindness that he can see Nagatsuka as human, defending him only because he recalls the shame of having been so cruel to Shoko.

Which I actually don’t have a problem with! I think it would go fairly far to show that he’s learned something from the Shoko situation, for him to expect no inkling of humanity but still be so desirous to remove that shame that he acts anyway. I just don’t know if that’s the intention of the narrative, even having seen it several times now.

“Friendship lies somewhere beyond things like words and logic” is one of the best lines from the movie, and I think it does a fairly good job of doing that as it calls up a large group from the past. It’s complicated, because I actually thought the group aspect was very interesting, particularly the incident on the bridge where Ishida, every fairly, tells each of them how they failed, what their personal sin is, and he isn’t wrong! The first time I watched it, I found myself screaming at it, the reckoning of this responsibility finally shared.

But the downside of all of these characters is that the focus on Shoko and Ishida, as well as any real development of feelings and forgiveness between them, feels very rushed. We get to the end of the story, with Ishida having saved Shoko’s life and hurting himself in the process. SO much emotional and character development gets laid down in a five minute scene, and while the scene itself does lend a lot of strength to the characters for that, I found myself more frustrated that we couldn’t have seen this sooner, and come out over time. Unfortunately the time with the ancillary characters feels a bit wasted, given what ends up being sacrificed for it.

Some parts of the movie are tricky for me to fully allow myself to fall into, at best. It’s particularly difficult for me to see Ishida as a huge victim given the exceptional level of his cruelty to Shoko, and if he really only pays until he’s in high school, while that may play as “forever” to a younger audience, I don’t have a lot of sympathy for his plight. This isn’t following him to his damn job. Maybe I’m a jackass, and that’s why I can’t go with it in the way the film seems to want me to, or maybe it’s that I was also horrifically bullied to the point of tears as a child, and I do not feel any particular sadness for the ways in which some of my own bullies were socially punished in high school. I don’t want him to kill himself, I want him to be better, and honestly the movie could have really really worked for me if we just saw the developing of his friendship with Nagatsuka and his turning into a better, softer person. This kind of goes into what I was talking about earlier--in a two hour movie, there just isn’t the time for all the side characters as well as the full development of the mains. We would have been better off just having Ishida, Shoko, and Nagatsuka. I fell you could have told a quite complete story with that. I think if those three characters had been more carefully written, I could have ADORED this movie, instead of the middle place I end up with in it.

But instead we come to the question of Shoko. I kinda suck my teeth at Shoko’s treatment in the film. Her open hearted kindness was heart-breaking as a child, the way she just wanted to be friends and she still had that belief that it could all work if she just did as adults told her and was NICE, and it’s extremely effective. But when we get to the high school Shoko and we’re still meant to see her as being this very mild, very apologetic, very sad person with no friends...it stops being a tragedy of the character individually and starts being a way of writing a disabled character as someone for our protagonist to act upon. Shoko is never really given her own moment of anger for herself, her own rich life outside of Ishida and the friends he brings to her. We don’t see her thoughts except as they relate to Ishida. We’re meant to believe she has no one outside of her sister when Ishida decides to reconnect with her, a tragedy of convenience that allows Ishida’s “work” to be valuable to more than just him. Even her own sorrow and suicide attempt seem to have so much more to do with the further of Ishida’s character than the oppressive social forces that have conspired against Shoko.

And we ALMOST get there. The end conversation between the two of them, where he says he understood her in ways that were convenient for him, and that because of that he failed to see her own pain and isolation, is amazing. Great, and I wish it would have come sooner and that we could have had some real payoff from that conversation that showed their relationship deepening in a way that served both Shoko and Ishida. But it comes at the tail end, and the “solution” we get all has to do with Ishida and his embracing of humanity, which I want, but not at the expense of Shoko’s character, who I liked very much and longed for a richer treatment of.

The romantic element between them is frustrating. Not only because he was her very very overt bully, I might even go so far as to say abuser, but because it feels so tiresome when the movie clearly has bigger fish to fry, and in many ways, does fry them! It doesn’t help that it is like quite a few things, painfully rushed, and when she falls for him, it’s left to the viewer to supply your own reasons that don’t quite make sense. It adds a layer to the story that I personally felt it did not need, even as cute as I find Shoko’s little flappy legs on the bed when she has her head buried in a pillow after trying to confess to Ishida, but he can’t understand what she’s saying.

Basically, I think this movie watches better once. I know that sounds like a strange thing to say about anything, but the first time I saw this, I didn’t notice so keenly some of the things that niggled at me later. I think it’s pretty fucking enjoyable, in the one shot, to be honest! I think it’s an ambitious movie that is, at its best, trying to say something about the nature of bullying and that it not only harms the bullied but the bully themselves. And in some ways, I think it has absolutely brilliant moments with that, and reflections on the nature of friendship and what it takes. But I think some of that ambition falls through, and feels a bit flat, when taken on the whole.

Have you seen it? What did you think?

#Doc watches movies #Doc watches things

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

Photo

Wonderland by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

Chapter 4: It’s a Mad World

“Are you feeling defensive today because of the way the group session went yesterday?”

Emma looked up defiantly at her therapist. “Do you always let them say whatever they want?”

“It’s important that everyone in group gets to speak their mind, that includes you.”

“August was doing more than speak his mind. He called me a goddamn spoiled rich kid with daddy issues.”

“Are you?”

“What the fuck?” Emma said angrily.

“Emma, your father is rich, you’ve been afforded things that most others have not.”

“So what? That gives him the right to talk about me that way?”

“I didn’t say that I just asked what your thoughts are on his statement.”

“I think he’s full of shit.”

“How is your relationship with your father?”

“Wow. Ok. Well, he traveled a lot.” She rolled her yes. She wasn’t exaggerating, she saw her father maybe once or twice a month when he wasn’t on some business trip that took him out of the country.

“Did you resent him for that?” The man was staring into her soul.

“Hard to resent someone you barely know.” She stared at her fingers, clicking her nails against each other.

“What about your mother?”

“She’s dad’s soldier. Does all his work for him back home while he’s out there making his mark on the world.”

“She’s a manager at the New York Hotel?”

“Yes, she runs all his North American hotels. She’s smart, runs a tight ship. Honestly, mom could have done anything she ever wanted.”

“Did she always want to work in management?”

“God no, she wanted to be a teacher. Mom loves kids.”

“Yet you’re an only child?”

“Yeah well, guess they got too busy to think about a brother or sister, or maybe I was just too much of a handful, you’d have to ask them.”

Emma knew her mother wanted desperately to have another child; she’d heard her parents argue about it a few times when she was younger. When she turned 15, her mother went through a period of depression. Emma had escaped the house on more than one occasion with Neal to avoid their fighting.

“David, we waited too long.”

“You don’t know that darling, the doctors said this could have happen for any number of reasons.”

“If you’d been home more, actually been here.”

“You’re blaming me for this?”

“Do we have to talk about my parents?” Emma stirred nervously in her chair.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before.”

“Let’s talk about Neal.”

“Why?”

“He’s your boyfriend?”

She bit her lip and shifted in her chair. “Ok yeah, sure. I met Neal when I was 12. We went to school together.”

“And your parents like him?”

“My parents love Neal. Sometimes I think they like him more than me.”

“I’m so disappointed in you Emma. How could you do this again?”

“Why do you care?”

“Don’t talk to your mother like that and answer the question.”

“I was just having fun with friends. It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’re drunk! You’re only 16. How is this not a big deal, Emma?”

“Seriously mom, stop acting so high and mighty.”

“You need to find better friends. I can’t believe you ditched Neal to go drinking. Really Emma, after the way he stood by you the last time you got in trouble!”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Emma Nolan, you are grounded for a month.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Neal does no wrong. He’s perfect. Heir to the Gold throne. Hell, I think my dad believes he walks on water.”

“Are you jealous of their affection toward him?”

“Jealous? No, I just find it hypocritical. They immediately believe that I’m the bad influence, no one stopped for one second to ask about Neal and what he was up to. Not once.”

“Should they have? Was there a reason for them not to trust Neal?”

“And once again, I’m bored with this subject.” She crossed her legs underneath her on the chair and buried her face in her hands.

“Come on Emma, just try it one time. If you don’t like it, you never have to do it again.”

“I don’t know, Neal. Is it dangerous?”

“Of course not, why do you think so many people are doing it? It will make you feel good, don’t you want to feel good?”

“Ok Emma let’s talk about what happened after you got arrested. How long were you in jail?”

“I spent 11 glorious months behind bars at Lakeview Shock Correctional. Not like it was hard time or anything, daddy paid a pretty penny to hide me in a minimum-security housing facility.”

“So, it wasn’t a juvenile center?”

“Nope, that really pissed him off, I got busted a week after my 18th birthday.”

“Did you have a difficult time while you were there?”

“Emma you can do it. One more push.”

“Oh God.”

“That’s it, the head is out.”

“It’s a boy. Do you want to hold him?”

“No.”

“Nope, pretty ordinary. Bad food, lots of alone time. Nothing to write home about.” She stared out the window, willing her subconscious to float above her, to drown out the memories and keep the tears at bay.

Her father had paid a lot of money to keep her out of prison, but mostly to keep the story hidden. The minute the baby was ushered out of the room, she was returned to her cell and no one ever spoke of it again. Her father refused to talk about it when she returned home, and her mother continued to pretend like nothing had ever happened.

“Ok Emma, I think that’s enough for today.” He was looking at her with apprehension.

“Awesome.” She pushed out of the chair and sprang free from the room, all the air draining from her lungs. She started to tug at the hem of her t-shirt, feeling like she was trapped in her clothes. She looked around the courtyard, she felt like everything around her was blurring before her eyes.

No! She couldn’t have an anxiety attack out here in the open.

Before she realized what was happening, she was running. She didn’t turn around or stop until she reached the sands of the beach. Bending over and heaving out breathes as she tried to stop her heart from racing. She turned toward the pier and ducked under the boards, climbing the sandy hill hidden from the sun and falling into the sand, her sobs coming out in panicked spurts.

“We really need to stop meeting like this, love.”

No. No. No. No. Not now.

“Go away.” She shouted, sucking in her breath.

“Are you alright, Swan?”

She sat up, tossing sand in his direction. “I’m fucking fine, now go away.” She watched him standing at the bottom of the hill, she could tell he was debating his next move and unless it was leaving, she was going to beat his ass.

Of course, he wouldn’t just leave, she watched him climb the sandy hill toward her.

“You don’t appear to be fine, lass.”

“Why are you so damned irritating?” She screamed, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks again. She blew out a breath and sucked in the air again.

“Swan, you need to breathe. You’re going to hyperventilate.” She rocked back and forth, her arms hugging her chest. She felt warmth against her back, a hand brushing circles against the fabric of her shirt. “It’s better to let it out.” His breath was warm against her ear as he pulled her into the side of his body.

Her hand clinched in his shirt, balling her fist against his chest. “I told you to leave!” She sobbed into his body.

“It’s bad form to leave a damsel in distress.”

She pulled back from him, his face staring at her with a concern that only fueled her annoyance. She felt anger rising in her chest when their eyes met. “The only one who saves me, is me.” She spat.

“Don’t take offense, I’m only trying to help.”

“You are so goddamn frustrating.” He smirked, which only made things worse. She needed to run away from the heat of the man seated beside her, away from his eyes staring into her soul, his arrogant smile still stuck to his face. The fact that he actually seemed worried about her was making the hairs on her arm stand on end. She shoved away from him, “Let go of me.” She stood up and he grabbed her hand.

“Emma…”

She yanked her hand back as if she had been shocked. “Stop touching me, asshole.”

“You really are a pain in the ass.” He stood up, his face inches from hers.

“I’m a pain in the ass? You’re the one who keeps following me around.”

“I was here first, love.”

Emma balled her hands in his shirt before she could stop herself, yanking his lips down to meet hers in a fury of heat and wanton desire. He didn’t hesitate to respond in kind, his fingers tangling tightly in her blonde locks as his tongue pressed against her lips. She opened her mouth with a groan, clinging to him in desperation as their tongues intertwined. When she came up for air, his forehead pressed against hers.

A sudden realization of what she had done began to dawn on her. She frantically pulled away from him.

“That was…” He started to speak, and she panicked.

“A one-time thing. A distraction. That’s all.” She backed away from him, turning quickly to leave and not looking back.

“Emma.”

“Don’t follow me.” She spat.

“As you wish.” She heard him say softly behind her.

She grumbled to herself all the way back to her room, when she entered, Ruby was putting on yoga pants and a sports bra.

“Emma, you’re just in time.” She looked up at her. “Oh my, are you alright? You look pale.”

“Gee thanks, but yes I’m fine, rough day in therapy.” She tore her t-shirt off her body. “What am I just in time for?”

“Spin class!”

“Um, yeah pass.”

“No way, you’re coming with me. It’s the best way to de-stress after therapy. Trust me, Zelena is amazing.”

She considered her options, either sit in her room, and relive the last fifteen minutes over and over in her head, thus driving herself insane, or sweat the kiss out of her system.

“Ok fine, spin it is.”

What Ruby failed to mention was that when she said that Zelena was amazing, what she meant was an insane crazy person.

“Come on you animals, push it harder! Sweat your way to recovery.”

“Oh my God what is with this woman, I can’t push any harder.” Emma panted.

“I heard that.” Zelena yelled in her direction, “When you think you can’t go any faster, find it in yourself to pick up the pace.”

Emma groaned and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her hand.

“Don’t just walk in my room late and expect not to get on one of these bikes.”

Emma peered over her shoulder and grunted when she saw August and Killian enter the room.

Can she do anything without that asshole following her?

She expected him to jump on the bike behind her and make some sort of inappropriate comment about her ass but instead he took the bike next to Ruby.

“I love seeing a woman work up a sweat.” He smiled at Ruby who giggled loudly.

“No laughing in my class, if you’re having fun, you aren’t working hard enough.” Zelena yelled.

She peered in his direction and their eyes met for half a second before he turned his attention back to Ruby. She rolled her eyes and focused her energy on moving her feet.

“Let’s go kids, five more minutes.” The red head screamed.

“I can go for more than five minutes, lass.” She heard Killian murmur toward Ruby.

“Oh, I bet you can.” Ruby returned the flirtatious discussion.

“If only I knew someone who could make that happen around here.”

“Maybe you do.”

Emma was getting winded, letting out a guttural groan, she took her feet off the pedals, the wheels spinning on their own until they came to a stop. She jumped off the bike and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her neck and swigging from her water bottle before walking out of the gym, ignoring the red headed instructor who was yelling at her to get back on her bike.

She turned the corner to the dorms and ran into something solid.

“Apologizes! I hope I didn’t hurt you, beautiful.”

She looked up and smiled at Jefferson. “Sorry, that was my fault, I should have been paying attention.”

“No harm, no foul, Miss Emma.” He stared down at her. “Are you quite all right? You seem sad.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Trust me, I know, I’ve had six months of them here.”

She laughed. “How have you survived?”

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Oh yes.”

“Come this way.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down a series of corridors until she no longer recognized where they were. He turned around and put his forefinger over his lips and she put her hand over her mouth. He pushed through the double doors, bending over, and creeping along the wall. He peeked up into one of the windows and then pulled her past it into a dark room.

When they were both standing in the dark, he let go of her hand and moved away from her to the other side of the room. She heard a clicking sound, a soft light illuminated his face before the light was extinguished.

He was by her side again, and she felt his lips against her ear. “Follow me.”

She turned and followed him back the way they came until they were standing outside the doors they entered, and he was dragging her through another set of doors into a part of the courtyard she had never seen before.

“What did we just do?” She exclaimed as he plopped down onto the grass lawn and patted beside him for her to sit. When she did, he passed her a small edible item. “Ding dongs? Did we just do all that to steal ding dongs?”

He popped one into his mouth, lying back on the grass. “There’s nothing better after a stressful day. And they don’t give them out to the patients, but I found out that one of the cooks absolutely loves them and hides them in the storage behind the kitchen.”

Emma fell back onto the grass next to him, leaning her head onto his crossed arm. She took a bite of the treat and moaned. “Oh my God, that is good.”

“I told you.” He smirked. “You forget the simple things when you are out there, dealing with the world.”

She sighed. “Why are you still here after six months?” She asked seriously.

“It’s hard enough to live in a land where you don’t belong but knowing it…holding conflicting realities in your head…will drive you mad.”

“And you think you belong in here?”

“Oh no, I hate Wonderland.” He exclaimed. “But unfortunately, I have an affliction. Do you know what it’s like to be at odds with yourself? It’s like having two lives yet they live inside one mind. Double the pain, double the suffering.”

Emma frowned. “Don’t you want to get better?”

“I supposed I do. And yet here I am.” He grinned at her.

“You’re very odd.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, sitting up on his elbow and leaning closer to her. “I could tell the first day in group that you were special. Don’t let August scare you off.”

“Oh, I’m uh, I can handle him.”

“I believe that.”

He leaned over, lightly brushing his lips against hers and then pulling back to look at her. “I apologize, I’ve been arguing with myself for the last ten minutes about doing that.”

She didn’t know what to think of the kiss, Jefferson was sweet and kind, with a strange air about him, and the kiss was so very different than what she had experience earlier kissing Killian. The kiss from Jefferson was almost comforting compared to the desperate need she experienced earlier under the pier.

Both of their watches began beeping and she sat up quickly.

“Oh my, have we been out here that long? I uh, guess we should get back to our rooms or we’ll miss lights out.”

“Time flies when you are having fun. I’ll show you the way back.” He stood up, reaching his hand out for her. He pulled her to her feet and tugged her forward, keeping his hand in hers. Once they reached the building, he dropped her hand, guiding her through the hallways until she started to recognize her surroundings. He stopped at the fork in the hall.

“This is where we part, beautiful.”

“Thank you for sharing your secret with me tonight.” She whispered.

“I only hope it helped. Goodnight.” He winked before turning away from her and skipping toward his room.

Emma grinned and walked the rest of the way to her room. Ruby was lying on her bed. “There you are.”

“Oh hey.”

“You just took off tonight. What happened?”

“Just overheated, needed to get some air.”

“Ah Zelena’s classes can be like that. She’s pretty serious about cardio.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You sure you’re ok? This wasn’t about Killian was it?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed upset when we were flirting today. Are you interested in him? Because I can totally back off if you two have something going on?”

Emma bit her lip. She was most definitely not interested in that asshole. Not at all. Not even a little.

Liar.

“Nope, he’s all yours. I’m not into assholes.”

“Suit yourself, but honestly, can you imagine what he can do with that mouth of his?”

Emma flushed, remembering the feel of his mouth burning on her lips. “Never really thought about it honestly, he’s not my type.”

“Which part? The accent, the arms, his abs, or the bulge in his pants, cause I could keep going if I haven’t proven my point yet.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t hot. He’s just…” She got into her bed and turned off the lights to mask the redness growing in her cheeks. “I can assure you his ego is probably bigger than his dick.”

“Well, one of us needs to find out, and if you’re not interested, then I volunteer as tribute.” She joked.

Emma rolled her eyes and turned over on her side, squeezing her eyes shut and praying for sleep. “You’re such a nerd, Ruby. But seriously good luck with that.” She grumbled before she fell asleep, blue pools of light haunting her dreams.

Notes:

I have updated the Chapter length to 21 chapters, I'm excited to say I have written all the words for Wonderland and I'm just going through and editing it now. :) Hope you are all enjoying the fic. Thanks again for reading!

#wonderland #stacy's fics #my fics #captainswan #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #emma x killian #killian jones #emma x hook #emma swan

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

Text

A Dis-ass-ter

Rating: M

Pairings: Simon Lewis/Maia Roberts; Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago; Simon Lewis/Meliorn; Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago; Maia Roberts/Meliorn; Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Summary:

Simon and Maia find out what the Mark of Cain is in an... Alternate way.

Namely, they can't get their spanking session on.

The squad is called in to help.

Read it on Ao3

It's nothing they haven't done a thousand times before.

Really, it's not even complicated. The safety precautions are all very basic, and Maia already knows the drill like the palm of her hand. No pun included.

What could possibly go wrong?

Apparently, this is what.

She tries to land another strike, this time, going extremely slow, making sure she is following the movement of her own hand with her eyes so she isn't missing anything. Just as it was supposed to, Maia's hand lands on Simon's ass the loud slap echoing in the room.

And then she feels the pain on her own ass.

What the fuck?

"Maia? What is going on?" Simon asks, turning his head towards her, which is really pointless, since he is blindfolded. "I hear slapping, but I can't feel anything."

"Well, I can feel it," she says, frustrated.

Simon frowns, which is a really funny look behind the blindfold, and Maia would probably be more endeared if she weren't so lost.

At least I'm a switch, Maia thinks for a second, because she tries to look at things on the bright side. Still, it feels weird to slap her own ass, especially when she has partners who could do that for her.

"Can you explain me what's going on?" Simon asks, sounding genuinely lost, before adding, "...please, Mistress?"

"I can't slap your ass," Maia answers, because that's really all she can say.

Simon sounds alarmed. "Shit, do you need to safeword? That's alright, baby, you should have just told me. I'll just need you to uncuff me and we can do something else, some aftercare, I know you like to watch movies-"

"No, Simon. I physically can't slap your ass!"

"...Do you want me to get it higher up?"

"No! Whenever I do, I feel it on me instead. See?" she says, slapping him again, "Can you even feel it?"

"...Are you sure it is my ass you're slapping?"

"Yes, Simon, I'm sure it is your ass. I did it really slowly to check."

"That's weird."

An awkward silence falls, because that sentence sums it up perfectly and there are no words left.

"Maybe there's a portal on your ass," Maia mumbles. "Did you open a portal in your ass?"

"No??? Why would I do that?? Or how? I can't use magic."

"I don't know, some elaborate prank?"

"Well, I'm missing out on a spanking, so no. Also, you know I suck at pranking, I'd have started laughing before we even took our clothes off."

"Shit, that's true. Then who opened a portal on your ass?"

"I feel like we shouldn't rush to the conclusion that there's a portal on my ass."

"Well, what else could it be?"

"I don't know? The possibilities are endless. I'm a newbie in the Shadow World, remember?" he says, wiggling his butt in an outraged way. "Maybe we should call a specialist."

"A specialist in ass portals?"

"Again, I feel like we are rushing to conclusions here."

"Magnus did invent the portal."

"Sure, call Magnus."

Magnus is about to begin very similar activities when Maia calls.

It's been a while since Alec last had a day off, and Magnus was really excited about the new handcuffs (they suppress his magic and his ability to cum. Unless! Alec! Lets him! Yes!), so he almost considers not picking up. But when people come for his help, it tends to be serious, and besides, this is Maia, so he can't make himself. He looks at Alec apologetically, but all Alec does is smile up at him as he passes him his phone. He makes an "I'll be done in a minute" gesture, but Alec doesn't look fooled.

Well then.

"Hello?" Magnus says, in his best I-am-totally-not-naked voice. Alec snorts, and Magnus almost throws something at him, but there aren't many objects available in his bed. "Maia?"

"Magnus!" she says, sounding distressed, and Magnus perks up, alarmed, "I can't spank Simon's ass!"

"Oh," he says, finally relaxing, seeing the way Alec, who had been going for his bow, mirrors his actions, looking curious. Magnus extends him a placating hand, signing to him that it's nothing major. He's glad this is just some teenage drama, not something overly complicated involving, say, magic and the Seelie Queen. Now that would be a problem. "That's alright, dear. I'm sure Simon will understand. Not everyone is into that. I, for example, am strictly into s-"

"No!" Maia screams, still distressed, and Magnus falls silent fast, "His ass is broken!"

Okay, that is definitely more worrying, but Magnus placates himself by thinking that, again, at least it's not related to some complicated magical plot Daylighter thing. "I'm afraid I need more information, dear. What exactly happened? Have you two done research before practic-"

"No! I mean, yes! Of course we've done research. But that's not the problem. I think there's a portal on his ass."

"Like, inside the-"

"No! Just the cheeks! Well, I mean, actually, I don't know. Simon, is the portal inside your ass?"

"There is no portal in my ass!"

"I think we'll have to check."

"Ok," Magnus says, and waiting room music starts playing over the line. Hm, Frank Sinatra, exquisite. He much prefers the original version of Garota De Ipanema, of course, but that is still not bad. He never expected it to be quite Maia's style, but then again, she is pretty eclectic, and-

"I can't fuck his ass!" Maia says, picking up the phone again.

"Ok," Magnus says, scratching his head a little, trying to think. "You said something about a portal. Does it lead anywhere that you can see, or-"

"No," Maia says, and for a second, Magnus has nightmarish visions of mundane television broadcasting the mysterious penis that showed up midair in the middle of Mumbai, but then she continues, "I just can't get in. It goes back. When I tried spanking him, it slapped my ass! Why is his ass leading to my ass?"

"That doesn't sound like a portal," Magnus says, calmly. "It might be some sort of blocking spell. Like a shield. They can't really differentiate between, uh, friendly and unfriendly intrusions." Then he pauses, "Although it is weird that the pain came back to you. Are you sure that you are not the one cursed?"

"Me?" Maia asks.

"Yes. I know a hex like that, every time you try to inflict pain, it is inflicted on you instead. Not that difficult to pull off, I should be able to undo it easily. We should move fast, though, because if the person plans on attacking you, it means you can't defend yourself," Magnus says, magicking some clothes on. Looks like the plans are officially cancelled. He can see Alec nodding, putting the handcuffs, blindfolds, vibrators, plugs, paddles, collars, wax, condoms, gags, and dildos they had selected for today all back in the box. "But we need to be sure. Where are you?"

"Uh, we are home, but- give me a minute, I think we need to test. I'll call you back?"

"Of course, my little pretzel."

He can hear her smile on the other end of the line. She sounds more calm when she says, "okay, bye."

"Looks like I'm on call," Magnus says, shaking his phone a little bit for emphasis. "By the way, Maia likes my nicknames."

Maia stares at her phone for a second, thinking of who they can ask for help with this. She never considered she could be the hexxed one. Fuck.

"What if it's Russell?" she thinks, a little scared. "Do you think he would do that?" It sounds pretty cowardly, making someone unable to fight you like that. It's not like she and Russell ever came to that before. Then again, she would totally kick his ass.

"I don't know. You know I don't love the guy, but it doesn't sound his style," Simon says. "Maybe we should test, like you said." He adds, trying to go for calming and cheerful and hitting unsure and slightly hysterical right on the head.

"Yes, you're right," she says, running her hands through her hair. "How do we do that?"

"Well, could you untie me first? It's weird that you're just, like, talking to my ass."

"Right, sorry."

They come to the conclusion that they should call someone else for Maia to slap and to slap Simon, so they can check which one of them is it about, or if it's about the both of them somehow. Meliorn is the obvious choice, since, well, they've done this before.

"Mel," she says, "I need you to come here and slap me and Simon."

"I do not wish to inflict harm on either of you," Meliorn answers, in the tone of someone who is looking up at a tree and trying to figure something out and is not interrupting that activity to talk, but is still paying attention to the conversation anyway. Meliorn has very precise entonations.

"No, I know, it's just a quick slap, just to test something. Please? Si- I- We might be in trouble."

Meliorn shows up in front of her. Maia turns off her phone, sighing, and feeling just a little safer with them there. She really hopes Russell isn't planning anything. At least with Meliorn she'd have someone to protect her.

"I resent that. I literally have superstrength, of course I'd protect you too," says Simon, who apparently can read minds now.

"Yeah, but I mean, still. Meliorn has magic, that's always more helpful."

"So my cool powers mean nothing to you, huh?"

"I fail to understand how slapping could help either of you," Meliorn interrupts, looking very calm and ethereal-like as they stand in front of Simon's Naruto poster.

"It's just for a test. Actually, I'd have to be the one to slap you, then you'd slap Simon," she says.

"That is only a minor difference," they reply, but nod. "Any preference for a place?"

Maia extends her hand, looking at her hesitantly. She just looks back at Maia, immobile. Maia bites her lip.

"You have my full permission," Meliorn says.

Maia slaps her shoulder. Not too light, since tapping Simon had no effect, but not too strong, either. She doesn't feel anything on her own shoulder. Or her ass.

"So?" Simon, who apparently can no longer read minds, asks.

"Nothing unusual," Maia says.

"Nor on my end," Meliorn replies. "Should I slap Simon now?"

"Yeah, sure."

Meliorn slaps Simon's shoulder, and then makes a little noise.

"I didn't feel anything." Simon says.

"So it is you who are hexxed," Maia says.

"Yeah, thank G-d," Simon replies. Then he adds, "what? At least it's not you,” when Maia looks at him weird.

"You are the sweetest, did you know that?" she asks.

"Careful, we're going to start being disgusting again."

"Okay, so this is definitely some kind of shielding spell," Maia agrees. "Should I call Magnus again?"

Magnus says that he doesn't know any spell quite like that, at least not any that allows it to be done without being initiated by the person spelled. He still shows up to check on Simon, though, which leads to seeing some unfortunate items they forgot to put back on their places and also the diagnosis that whatever it is, it is Seelie magic, not a warlock's.

"Seelie magic? Could it have anything to do with the weird ritual the Seelie Queen performed on me?"

“No, I’m sure it’s something else,” Magnus says, dryly, “The Seelie Queen performed an unknown ritual on you and you didn’t even consider it might have something to do with that before??”

“Well, I mean, nothing in particular happened at the time.”

“And you thought maybe the ritual was just for the shits??”

“Well, no, but Maia was staring at my forehead for a really long time trying to figure it out, and then I said, ‘I mean, even if you figure it out, what are you going to do, kiss my booboo away?’ and then she kissed my forehead, so we started being all cute and stuff, and I forgot.”

“Why am I only now hearing about this?” Meliorn says, sounding distressed, because obviously they had nothing to do with the ritual or anything about that particular plotline, since that would be ridiculous. “And why didn’t you come to me before?”

“Simple: I am a himbo,” Simon says.

“Simon,” Magnus sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples, and thinking that maybe he should send Alec a text to let him know that his totally super quick visit to Simon’s place, babe, I promise, seriously there’s no need to raincheck do NOT put it all back in the drawer I’ll be right back will actually not be that quick and maybe they will have to raincheck. Maybe. "Can you explain to us what exactly happened?"

So Simon describes the whole thing about how the Seelie queen branded his forehead with the help of some totally not-Meliorn seelie (again, why would Meliorn do that? That would be ridiculous and OOC) and all that pizzazz, finishing the whole narrative off with a "crazy, right?"

Magnus and Meliorn look at each other, and Maia is totally expecting that they will say, "of course! We know exactly what this is and it is very easy to solve and Simon's ass will be fuckable again in no time," but instead they say, "we will need to do research. I've never heard of anything like this before."

As Magnus' portal closes, they can hear him say, "Alexander, I'm afraid we'll need to raincheck," to which Alec deadpans, "no, really?". Meliorn leaves a kiss on both of their foreheads and says that she will get to the bottom of this before disappearing with her own portal.

So it's just Maia, Simon, the messy bed, and the ropes and blindfold they need to put back under his bed again. And there is nothing they can do but wait.

Simon is like, spectacularly drunk.

That is not too hard to happen, of course, because he is a known lightweight and Maia's bloody Marys (ha! That's right, they have blood) are strong. Still, after a week with no relevant news from either Magnus or Meliorn, it looks like Simon was even more helpless to the effects of alcohol. Either that, or he really needed an excuse to scream,

"THE SEELIE QUEEN HAS CURSED MY ASS!"

At the top of his lungs in the middle of Hunter's Moon.

The rest of the clients ignore him, because they have heard all about it before. Raphael, who is beside him, nurses his own bloody Mary with a way too amused smile. He looks absolutely fond, which is a weird way to react to Simon mumbling, "what does she even have against my ass?", but that's Raphael for you. At least Maia doesn't have to worry about Raphael having a weird time at their triple date. Then again, she's sure he already knows how weird they are at this point.

"Has he been whining like this ever since?" Raphael asks, doing a shit job of hiding his laugh as he takes a sip.

"Yup," she replies, checking a cup against the light to make sure it's dried. "Tried everything to make him look on the bright side, didn't work. Guess all we can do is wait for Simon and Meliorn."

"We can trust them," Raphael says, sounding absolutely serious. "They will figure it out."

She smiles at him. "Yeah, of course they will," she answers, ruffling his hair a bit, because she can't help it. Raphael lets her, because he also can't help it. "We'll just have to deal with him up until then."

"Labour division," Raphael nods. Maia laughs.

Simon continues with his rant. "I am completely unfuckable. No butt business at all, nada!" He says. "We tried everything. I have THREE whole partners, and NONE of them can fuck me!!"

"Well, I have never fucked you," Raphael points out, unfazed.

"Yes," Simon says. He then turns towards the camera to look directly into your eyes as he continues, "That is true. Raphael and I don't fuck, and we never will, because he is asexual and sex-repulsed and is not interested in that, with me or anybody else. He won't fuck any of his other partners either, and that is wonderful and valid and should be respected by the fandom." After that, Simon turns back to Raphael and says, "but that is not the point! It's not about you, it's about my ass!!"

"Of course, my apologies," Raphael deadpans.

"Simon, come on. We'll figure this out. We just need to… Talk to the seelie queen," Maia says, her voice faltering at the last words. "I mean, what she's gonna do? Kidnap us again? That's gotta have gotten old by now."

"You shouldn't test her like that," Raphael says, voice serious and eyes hard. Maia can see the way his fists clench as he says it, and she can't help but smile as she takes his hand and places a small kiss there.

"We'll be fine, I promise," she says.

"You'll let me know if you need help, right?" Raphael asks, instead of taking Maia's empty promise.

At that moment, Simon's phone rings.

"It's something called the curse of Cain," is the first thing Simon says after he hangs up his phone.

"The Daylighter curse??" Raphael asks.

"Yes- wait, you knew about this? And didn't tell me?"

"I knew what the curse of Cain is, I didn't know that's what was. All you told me is that your ass was 'sealed shut', there was nothing about that in the spellbooks."

"So Cain is withholding information," Simon mumbles.

"Maybe that just wasn't his priority," Maia suggests.

"Maybe he never tested," Raphael adds.

"Maybe he just left me to perish," Simon counters.

Raphael rolls his eyes. "Come on. Let's get you home. You need to be sober when we go talk to the Seelie Queen."

A whole commission was sent on a diplomatic mission to get Simon's ass back, including Maia, Raphael, Magnus, Alec, Meliorn herself, and even Cain, whom had not been seen by anyone in millions of years but Simon was able to track down in the New York sewers that very same week. How convenient!

Meliorn designed their strategy for talking to the Queen, and her and Magnus led the negotiations. Raphael also spoke in the name of all of the vampires, saying Simon's interests were theirs as well, which Simon thought was totally sweet.

Magnus and Meliorn's speech was very in sync, a result of long rehearsal, and everything went down smoothly. Cain offered to let the Seelie Queen observe him in Simon's place, so she wouldn't miss out on her shiny, unique toy. They all kneeled before her as Meliorn finished her speech, saying, "we beg of you, my queen, let the Daylighter make his own choice."

The Seelie Queen then said, "k lmao," and undid the spell.

It isn't until Simon is back in the safety of the regular realm that he throws his arms up and says, "my ass is back!", promptly leading to a montage of celebratory cheers and hugs among the commission.

"We should celebrate!" Maia suggests, "Finally, Simon will stop crying about this."

"I agree," Meliorn replies, smiling slyly at the both of them. "We should celebrate."

"Alright, I'm out," Raphael says, because he is a sex-repulsed ace and not interested in that type of celebration. "Have fun," he adds, because he is happy for his partners.

And have fun they do. Once Magnus and Cain leave as well, of course, because otherwise that would be weird.

#sh #shadowhunters #saia #malec #simon lewis #maia robertss #raphael santiago #meliorn #magnus bane #alec lightwood #crack #crackfic #The Polycule™#saiaphael #saiaphaeliorn #hello everyone please enjoy this #dirty mention

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misterbitches · 4 years ago

Text

i wish more than anything he could have had this. i love you man

i really fucking do

my love for nirvana and immense respect for kurt isn't something i ever expected. after being a huge fan of jonghyun too as a musician, a person who had things to say, a human being. the people around him. i fucking hate that kurt is gone and i was like...2. i got into hole when i was like 25 really heavily and refused to listen to nirvana. didnt' care about these white boys. but there's a reason why people love this band and why they loved kurt. i get mad sometimes at his death—selfishness—and then i make jokes to deal and cope. we all do with everything. it's just that and this is from a cis person...but i know so many trans people or people on the gender spectrum who have read his journals see him as someone struggling with gender. and after years of thinking and becoming such a huge fan i think that was honestly the truth. i think at this point we're all pretty sure he was gender queer or struggling with identity.

his aversion for oppression, his stand with the marginalized, not accepting racism, homophobia, transphobia BECAUSE THAT IS THE HEART OF DIY (spurred by my black people cos ofc it is and we do everything) and i wish that he could have beeen better.

to me it seems like his pain with his crohns (or wahtever he had) lead to his intense struggle with drugs because that's pretty common when needing pain management. on top of that, his family's history of MI. on top of that, his life being hounded and not being prepared for it (this i think is the idea of white privilege at work and wasn't naive of him necessarily, but...it's just something he thought wouldnt happen to him. that's whiteness at work as who they were as a diy fucking anti pop anti capital punk band. sonic youth said 'we didnt sell out, we made them buy in') and his rship with courtney. he said without court he might be gay or bi.

i won't read his journals, it's too fucking much for me and i dont feel allowed or maybe i will when i can handle it, but i know reading about them and him and hearing the way he changed his songs and his abhorrence for bravado, for men that talk about women as disposable and sex objects, for not being able to enjoy a punk band, for the whiteness and maleness. krist novoselic was a 6'7 fucking bassist and dave grohl is a sizeable dude with hideous tattoos. back then, no one said a fucking bad thing about them. come as you are.

we know that suicide is a state we get into. when you go to a psych ward you see that it's actually calm and an ebb/flow. it is extremely fucking boring. the thing is we don't know if these feelings last forever. we can't go back and time and history cannot change. it was his decision, like jonghyun's, to end his life. but i know there could have been longer. if they got help. i try not to resent courtney especially not now with people being irresponsible and unearthing the FBI report on him. he killed himself but it was definitely emotionally sparred by her and she should have told people what happened weeks before his death.

but no one failed him per se. his suicide note is full of hope and it kills me to see. he should have been able to be whoever he wanted. been a son, been a daughter, been anything.

whenever i hear the changed lyrics or see him in a dress or hear distress i dont know. i wish we didnt lose him but i also know that no one wants to go back to that time. it wasn't necessarily great but it wasn't all bad. and i wish commodity didn't destroy legacy. i wish we werent's so obsessed with the death and gore instead of the liveliness and hilarity of this band and of kurt. and i wish we could talk about him more and the idea that maybe there's so much going on with it; i have many critiques for things they have done, things kurt has done as well.

i'm talking in circles but i genuinely just get bummed. every day he is still dead. but this dude man......i love him a lot. i'm so glad nirvana gave what they did to the world. getting to know kurt so long after the fact is fucking hard sometimes. it is frustrating. but focusing on the positives too or trying to understand another perspective has given me a lot of insight. and i always try and remember that it wasn't just one thing, that nirvana were a band, it wasn't just him, and he could have been better but it just didn't work out that way. it's not solely about his internal pain and the narrative of a tortured artist is suffocating.

he wanted to be a star, make this insane pop song, and when he got it he didnt realize it became everything he hated. he was already struggling and all this shit hit a point. i have mad respect for them still. dave grohl said billie eilish is the kurt of her gen (about 2 yrs ago) and that drives me up a wall for various reasons. antiblackness and class. fuck that. these dudes were poor as fuck trucking it through washington with other bands and the basis is blacness and black art they were trying to fight and make it and give a shit man. it didnt turn out the way they could handle but they were not PRIMIING themselvs for musical stardom. no artist who cares would do that. but if you get the recognition you want because who doesn't, it comes at a price too.

this is why i critique commodity and capital so intensely. i participate, and i will have to as an artist. i don't have a desire to be poor because i've lived a life that gave me space to see what i want to do. i have class privilege (and a lot of debt) and i am grateful. but it isnt like i dont want peopl eto know. it's just that i know that i can't give in and accept and demand nothing and then decide to hoard it to myself. taht money that goes in funnels out and is not for me to keep. there is no trickling down. dont paly yrself.

artists like kurt and in a sense like MF Doom (rapper who only came out to be seen when he wanted to) or DMX even it's like....man u came out fucking fighting to be heard you know. do your thing. make your shit. be amazing. esp black people. DMX had a fucking face for a camera. hopefully i'm gonna watch belly at my best friend's house on the 28th.

i wish everyone who deserves to stay can stay until their body releases them in the most pleasant way as possible. jessica walter's death made me sad, but she was older and i'm so happy she got to live. same with cicely tyson. at the same time, the young deaths over drugs, suicide, accidents....id on't really get it. why is kissinger alive but these people can't stay? how did this come a somber tale of death instead of just i fucking love kurt cobain lmao

he's def one of those ppl that im like u rock. him, robeson, seberg to an extent. hm who else. wong kar wai, jenkins, joe (thai filmmaker whose name i cant spell.) all those people who are running forward on their own and beating their chest. yea i like that. an award is just another award. what matters is possibility and action.

RATHER BE DEAD THAN COOL

#a thot

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thecleverdame · 6 years ago

Text

East of Nowhere - Year Two

Sam x Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and Sam are strangers trapped in a desolate mountain town where you live alone, isolated from the outside world, for five years.

Warnings: language, violence, smut, talk of past trauma

Words: 8.5k

Beta: ilikaicalie

This story is complete (44k) and available now on Patreon for a pledge of 2.50. >>CLICK HERE<<

YEAR TWO

One Year, Three Days

“This is the one.” You stand beside Sam in the fading light of the afternoon, the wind tossing his hair around his face. Crossing your arms you pull the jacket tighter around you. You’ve been inside every house in the residential area of Shadow Hill, but none of them felt quite right, not until this one.

It’s at the very end of the cul-de-sac, where there’s more room between the houses, not to mention the edge of the forest in the backyard, which flanks your new home with thick pine woods.

You know just by looking at the outside that this one is the right fit. The deep blue siding reminds you of the color of the ocean in books, a rich blue that feels calm and peaceful.

“You sure this is the one? How do you know?” Sam inquires, tilting his head, trying to determine what makes this place different from the other forty houses you’ve spent days inspecting.

“I’m not sure,” you shrug, admiring for another moment more, then grabbing the wrist of his jacket, pulling him toward the steps. “It just feels like us.”

Once inside, your instincts are only confirmed. The living room is warmly lit with a soft fire, filled with overstuffed chairs and rich colors. Leading off the main living area is a grand oak dining table, big enough for an entire family. The kitchen is new and sleek, pots and pans hanging from hooks above the island. This house feels like a home, almost like someone’s lived here before.

“I like it,” Sam nods in approval, pouting his bottom lip. “Let’s check out the second floor.” You follow Sam upstairs, finding several bedrooms with large beds, each more luxurious than the last. It’s a far cry from the shitty little hotel room that you’ve shared for the last year.

“Why are there so many pillows?” Sam squints, “no one person could possibly need that many pillows.”

“They’re decorative. I like them.” You smile at him, swinging your hips like a happy-go-lucky child.

“I won’t even attempt to fight you for a room, you choose the one you want.” Sam grins, nudging open the door at the end of the hall, peering in. You frown, a sudden reality hitting you for the first time. “What?” He asks, his smirk falling at your abrupt shift in attitude.

“It’s gonna be a little weird not sleeping in the same room, that’s all.” You walk past him, inspecting the bathroom, thrilled to see a soaker tub big enough for three people. The look on his face is hard to read, “I’m used to waking up and seeing you right there, talking and farting in your sleep.”

Chuckling, Sam shakes his head “You don’t even want me to tell you some of the noises you make.” You raise your eyebrows and he continues “Yeah, I’m not the only one who talks in their sleep. Oh, don’t stop, harder....lots of sex dreams.”

“Sam!” You yell, slapping his arm. You drop your eyes out of embarrassment, giggling because you have a pretty good idea of who you were dreaming about. When you look up, there’s a broad smile plastered across his face, chest shaking as he quietly laughs to himself. “I hate you,” you grit slapping him again.

“Who am I to say what it was about, maybe you’ve just been dreaming about a really great full body massage.” He cracks himself up, leaning into the wall for support.

“You’re a real comedian.” You sigh, trapped in the space between embarrassment and amusement. “I want this room, the big one.”

One Year, Five Weeks

You think the house will help to alleviate some of the tension between the two of you and, for a couple weeks it does. Sam has one rule above all others, you don’t separate. You get it, you understand why it’s important that you’re always within earshot. In theory, anything could happen, but the fact is nothing ever happens. Your lives become a mundane routine, planned around books and spells and meals that’s wearing you down day by day.

The little things Sam does drive you crazy and not in a good way. Like the way his spoon always hits the side of his bowl when he’s eating soup or how he chews on the ends of all the pens until they’re twisted into mangled plastic. He leaves the toilet seat up and the milk on the counter and he always has to know where you are, every fucking moment.

“It works better if you use the scrub brush,” Sam recommends, sipping his coffee.

“I like the sponge.” You side eye him, elbow deep in rubber gloves and dirty dishes.

“You know, you don’t really have to do that. If you just wait, they’ll clean themselves.” He leans against the counter, seemingly intent on watching you wash.

“No, I do have to do it. Otherwise, they’ll sit here all day and every time I come into the kitchen, I have to stare at a sink full of dishes.” The organized scientist in you has reared its ugly head. Sam’s a wonderful man in so many ways, but he’s obscenely messy.

“Why are you mad?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not mad,” you grit, jaw clenched.

“Really? Because you seem angry.”

This is the point in cartoons where steam blows out of someone’s ears. Every bit of resentment, indignation, and sexual frustration is boiling to the surface.

“I said I’m fine.” You turn away from him, dropping a bowl to the floor where it shatters with a sickening crack. “God, damn it!” You scream, clenching your fists.

To Sam, this seems like a massive overreaction, but for you, it’s about so much more than a broken bowl.

“It’s not that big of a deal. You get the big pieces and I’ll grab the broom.” Sam moves toward the cupboard.

That’s when you erupt.

“Sam, for fuck's sake stop telling me what to do! Jesus, I’m capable of cleaning up broken glass!” You shake with rage.

“What the hell is your problem?” He shoots back, both ready for a fight.

“You’re my problem!” You scream. As if it had been planned, you step with all your weight directly onto a sharp shard of glass that cuts into your foot like a knife through butter. You shriek, falling onto your butt, coming down hard on your tailbone with a sickening smack on the tile floor. “Fuck, ow….ow.”

Sam crouches in front of you, with his hand around your ankle before you have a chance to process what’s happening. He lifts your foot up to get a better view and cringes, “that’s deep.”

“Let me go,” you kick at him, not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to get a point across.

“I need to get it out,” he scoffs, tightening his grasp.

“I’ll do it myself. I said don’t touch me,” you hiss, pulling your leg back again. This time, he lets you go, you wince as you scoot away from him.

“I’m just trying to help.” His tone betrays the words and there’s venom under the surface.

“I don’t need your help, I’m fine.”

He watches from the other side of the kitchen as you inspect your foot. He was right, it is deep, maybe three or four inches sunk into flesh. It’s a thick gash that’s pooling blood all over the light grey floor. Your stomach turns a little when you realize that you’ve backed yourself into the corner and have to pull it out of your own foot.

The pain comes without warning as if seeing the injury triggers the physical response. A sharp ache rises from your foot and up your legs and tears well over your eyes before you can stop.

It fucking hurts and suddenly you’re worried maybe you’ve managed to really injure yourself. What if you hit a tendon or actually did some permanent damage? The distress rises to your chest as you break out into a sweat.

The pain spirals and the blood isn’t stopping. God, you hate the sight of blood, it’s always made you lightheaded.

“Sam…” you panic, voice trembling.

“Here, let’s get you up.” Without missing a beat, he scoops you into his arm and carries you to the living room like he’s done it a thousand times before. That’s all it takes for him to forget what a bitch you’ve been; he hears the fear when you say his name and all is forgotten. After jogging to the bathroom, he reappears with a small bag.

“It hurts,” you spit, covering your eyes with your arm. You don’t want to look, the thought of all that blood and glass makes your stomach turn over.

“I bet,” he raises your leg into his lap, blood dripping all over his jeans. He doesn’t seem to care, though. You feel his wide hand slide under your yoga pants, halfway up your calf, squeezing lightly. “I’ll take care of you.”

With those words, Sam bears down, holding your leg still with a firm grip and rips the glass out. Not only is there pain, but more concerning is the steady stream of blood gushing out that is warm and slick, streaming down your heel. You don’t speak, you just make a strangled noise that Sam responds to by squeezing your upper thigh.

Your eyes pop open and the look on his face makes you feel even worse, “It’s bad huh?”

He nods tightly, “You’re gonna need stitches.” When you whimper, he just nods. “Don’t worry, you won’t remember. Gonna get you real drunk first.”

One Year, Four Months

You twirl spaghetti around a fork, coiling the noodles in just the right amount before popping it into your mouth. “Oh my gosh, Sam” you nod enthusiastically, “this is really good.”

“See, I’m getting better. I used the recipe this time,” he grins and you both dig in.

You’ve been swapping childhood trauma stories all night and now it’s your turn.

“We used to go on these camping trips when I was kid. Every year, my dad would pack up way too much shit in the back of our station wagon and drag us out to the middle of nowhere.” Sam sits back in his seat, sipping his beer. He likes when you tell the stories, he always seems fascinated by what was usually your boring, run of the mill childhood memories.

“Your dad’s an outdoorsman?” he inquires, crossing his ankles.

“Big time. He was in the army and when he got out, he spent years teaching wilderness survival. He’d live outside if he could.” You pour yourself more wine, then you continue. “So, he decides that we’re going to the Smokey Mountains for two weeks. He drags the whole freaking family out there, my mom and sister, my cousins and asshole uncle Ted. I didn’t care about any of them, I was so excited just to spend time with my dad. He’d taught me, what I thought at the time was a lot of bushcraft skills, I mean, I was just a little girl, but I knew how to build a fire and get a fish off a line, so I thought I was hot shit. I was desperate to prove myself. I never wanted to be like other girls my age, I wanted to hunt and fish and chop trees. I don’t know, I guess I thought it was the best way make my dad proud. So, we’d been there about a week when I decided that I wanted to go off on my own adventure. I packed a bag and wandered off. My cousin, Ryan, was supposed to be watching me, but he was too busy reading comics and no one else noticed.”

“Oh no…” Sam winces, rocking back in his chair.

“It gets better,” you promise. “I followed the trail for a while and then decided that I was fully capable of making my own way in the world and I ventured off into the woods. I probably walked for an hour before I decided I wanted to go back to camp, but it was too late; I was so lost. I walked in every direction and had no freaking idea which way was out. I was eight years old, with a ‘My Little Pony’ backpack and a pair of pink binoculars. I wasn’t dressed for anything more than a trip to the park and the sun started to go down….I was so scared, Sam. This huge storm was rolling in and when it started to rain, I just remember curling into a ball and crying”

“What did you do?” Sam’s enthralled, picking at the label on his bottle.

“I started thinking about my dad, he always said that if you aren’t finding a solution, you're contributing to the problem. So, I looked for a solution, which in my case, was finding the thickest pine tree I possibly could and crawling underneath. It hurt like hell, I was all scratched up, but I knew it would at least keep me out of the rain. And that storm, God, I hate thunderstorms to this day. It was so loud and there was so much lightning. I remember being curled up in the mud under that tree, freezing, and telling myself out loud that I was going to be alright. Even as a kid, I knew that I had to make myself believe that I was going to survive and I was capable of handling the situation. It was going to be awful and I was going to cry - but that was okay, as long as I made it through.”

“You were out there all night?” Sam leans forward setting his drink on the table.

“Yup. It was almost twenty-four hours before my dad found me. I was wet and dirty, but I was in one piece. You know he didn’t even yell at me? He just hugged me and told me he loved me.”

“That’s incredible, the whole thing,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I’d like to meet him.”

“You will,” you take a sip from your glass, pulling your knees up to your chest, “he’s gonna like you. He’s a ‘get shit done’ kind of guy. You kinda remind me of him.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Sam’s been less and less positive as the months go by.

“Yeah, we will,” you confirm.

Sam’s still for a moment, his eyes shifting as his own thoughts rush in.

“When, ah, Dean and I were kids, my dad was gone all the time. My first real memory is being in this smelly, dirty motel room and crying because I just wanted my dad to stay with me. I didn’t understand why he left, you know? Dean must have gone out or something because I distinctly remember that when he came back to the room, I turned my pillow over because I was afraid he’d see it was wet and he’d know I was crying.” Sam loses himself in that memory for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know, four maybe? Young enough that no one in their right mind would leave Dean in charge of me.” He scoffs and takes a drink, “That’s just how it was though. My mom died and dad needed to hunt, needed to fill that void.”

“Sounds to me like he was coping the only way he knew how t,” you suggest. Sam’s talked about his father before and you know there’s never ending layers to that relationship.

“I don’t hold it against him, not anymore. He did the best he could under the circumstances. For a long time, all I wanted to do was everything that he hated. Just be a normal guy, get married, have a couple kids, and be a better father than he ever was.”

“What? You don’t want that anymore?”

“I’m thirty-three and, forgetting for a moment that we’re stuck in Shadow Hill, I’m deeper into this life than my dad ever was. If you care about people, you don’t make them a part of this life.”

“Maybe you don’t get to make that choice for other people,” you shoot back. “Everyone has their shit, Sam, and I’ll give it to you that your shit is crazier than most, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He gulps down the last of his beer, “I’m going to bed.”

One Year, Five Months

You’re going alone, you’re going no matter what he says because you don’t care about his rules anymore.

Sam’s reading in the living room, so engrossed in The Handmaid’s Tale that he doesn’t really hear you when you square off your shoulders and say, “I’m going for walk.”

He just smiles up at you, completely oblivious to whatever you just told him, “Whatever you want.”

If we’re being a hundred percent honest, you know it’s going to piss him off. But, there’s no way you are both going to survive without a little alone time every now and then. If it keeps up like this, one of you is going to kill the other.

You wander down the street and behind the houses to Miller’s Path, leading out of the town and into the looming pine forest that surrounds every side of Shadow Hill. After walking for some time, you veer off the path, heading toward a clearing in the distance.

You maneuver through the brush, the trees of yesteryear, fallen in storms long forgotten. The seasons have been harsh, stripping away the bark and outer layers, yet rendering them all the more beautiful. They have the appearance of driftwood, twisting in patterns that remind you of seaside waves; even the color of the moss is kelp-like. They are soft and damp, yet your fingers come away dry.

You tilt your head upward, feeling your hair tumble further down your back; the pines are several stories tall, reaching toward the golden rays of early fall. Birdsong comes in lulls and bursts, the silence and the singing working together as well as any improvised melody. A new smile paints itself on your face, rose-pink lips, semi-illuminated by the dappled light. Before you know it, your feet have begun to walk, body and mind both on autopilot - it's around noon and you don’t think you’ve been gone that long.

You find the clearing, trotting happily back out into the sunlight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sam’s voice booms, snapping you out of your solitary moment. You whip around to the sight of him standing at the edge of the tree line, his chest huffing and eyes wild.

“What, I’m just...out here.” You’re caught off guard more than anything else, stumbling over your words. Sam’s mad, breathless, nostrils flaring, pissed the fuck off.

“Just hanging out?” He throws his arms up, stepping closer to you.

“I was just taking a walk, I told you where I was going…” You step back, he looks like he might throw you over his shoulder and lug you back to the house himself.

“You’re acting like a damn kid sneaking around. What if something happened to you?”

“Nothing is gonna happen to me. What do you think is going to happen, Sam? Nothing ever fucking happens here. It’s just the same shit day after day and it’s driving me insane. It’s making me resent you and it’s not even your fault, I know that. But, I need to be able to take a walk or go to Tolliver’s or do just one damn thing on my own.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m not done! Let me finish. Look, if I could choose anyone to be here with, it would be you, Sam, it really would. I had no idea I needed you in my life before I met you, which I know sounds nuts and makes no sense whatsoever, but it’s how I feel. I like spending time with you, but I need time to be alone, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What if you decide you want to go for a stroll and you never come back? You just disappear. Huh? What then?”

“If I’m going to disappear, it’s going to happen whether you know where I am or not. I could be sitting next to you on the couch and poof, gone. Just like that,” you snap your fingers for added effect and he winces.

“Okay, sure, let’s just throw caution to the wind. You don’t care, right? Whatever happens, happens!” He’s screaming, pointing at you with an accusatory thrust of his arm.

“I never said that,” you glare, “stop being so dramatic! God, I hate you so much right now!”

“Screw you,” Sam, spits, lunging toward you and the next thing you know his mouth is crashing into yours. You’re still in shock, mouth hanging open as his tongue snakes past your lips, meeting your own. He tastes like almonds and salt and it is fucking wonderful. His arms engulf you, enveloping you in a crushing embrace, pulling your body flush with his. You tip your head to the side, mouth opening further to give him full access, a move which he accepts eagerly, his tongue exploring deeper as this kiss becomes less about rage and more about a year and half of sexual frustration. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it occurs to you that despite how good this feels, you’re still pissed. Groaning into his mouth, you place two hands on his chest and push back, parting in a breathless smack. Sam looks down at you, his shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath.

“You kissed me.” You meant it as a question, but instead you’re just stating the obvious.

“Yeah,” he flexes his jaw, “I did.”

“Well...I...” Just a moment ago there was so much you needed to say, but your head is swimming and you can’t think. “I’m not saying that I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t done-”

In the distance there’s a faint noise, growing louder. At first, you both look from side to side, but the closer the sound gets the more you realize it’s coming from above you. By the time you identify the noise as paper fluttering in the air, you can see the mystery object plummeting down toward the ground and it lands with a heavy thud on a patch of grass. You both inch toward it, Sam moving in front you with his arm out, “Don’t get too close.”

You stay behind him until you realize what you’re looking at and step forward as he grabs at the back of your shirt. “It’s alright, it’s just a book.” You bend down and pick up what appears to be a very worn, very old copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“What the..,” Sam’s voice trails off as you show it to him. There’s a feather sticking from between the pages and you open it to reveal a small line of text that’s been underlined by hand.

Glancing up at Sam you clear your throat read the text, “Sometimes the last person on Earth you want to be with is the one person you can't be without.”

“What is that, like Jane Austen?” he asks, completely perplexed.

You suppress your urge to comment on the fact that he recognizes Jane Austen when his face twists. You can watch the flutter of realization cross his face. “What?” You shift the book in your hands, “what’s wrong?”

“Someone’s watching us,” he snorts.

“But,” you hesitate trying to decide what the right questions are, “who?”

“I don’t know, but literature’s greatest hits don’t just rain the from the heavens. That was meant for us.”

“This is freaking me out.” You wipe your mouth, feeling the weight of the novel, and looking behind you.

Sam’s words sink in; someone’s watching.

He looks from you to the book, then up to the sky. There’s a moment of silence before he loses it. “What is this? A lesson?” he shouts, turning in a circle with his arms outstretched. “We’re listening, we’re fucking listening! Hello?” Nothing. He’s fuming, his cheeks bright red and fists clenched. He looks like he’s ready for a fight and not the kind that utilizes words. He wants to break something, frantic for anything to hit and watch his knuckles bleed.

“Sam,” you reach out, grabbing his wrist. He recoils when you touch him, pulling back as if he’s going to smack you. It’s muscle memory, something dormant left over from too many years of staying constantly vigilant and sleeping with a gun under his pillow. He cocks his fist and you stumble back, nearly falling over as he catches you.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to-” his face scrunches, to your surprise there are tears welling up in his eyes, “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

What Sam can’t tell you is the combination of emotions coursing through his veins. He’s so frustrated that he can’t even control his own reactions and it makes him feel painfully impotent.

“I know, Sam,” you drop the book to the ground and wrap yourself around him, pressing your head over his heart, “I know you wouldn’t.”

One Year, Seven Months

After the ‘Dr. Darcy Incident’, as you dubbed it, Sam does his best to give you more space. And just like you predicted, your relationship with him begins to heal itself almost immediately. Time away eases the urge to pick at each other and allows you to enjoy your time together again. It’s a morning like any other, except Sam isn’t there when you wander half asleep down to the kitchen. Sam’s always awake before you, a pot of coffee already brewing by the time you crack your eyes open for the first time. You assume he must need the sleep and try to recreate his normal morning routine, so that by the time he wanders into the dining room, there’s two eggs and wheat toast waiting for him.

“Good morning,” you greet him, setting your plate next to his.

“Good morning,” his voice is low and he blinks at his eggs.

“You still asleep over there?”

“I think so,” being the man that he is, he just throws you an appreciative glance and digs in. He spends the rest of the day going through his normal routine; run, weights in the basement, then a shower and off the to the library to grab a few books he wants to add to your growing in-home library. By that evening, he’s looking pale, dark circles forming under his eyes. He tells you it’s just a cold and that he just needs some sleep. You don’t think twice. Maybe he’s not feeling well, but it doesn’t set off any alarm bells. The following morning, you’re up earlier than usual, feeling uncharacteristically rested. Lacing up your sneakers, you hit the snowy pavement as the sun is rising over the horizon. It’s a beautiful morning, too cold for a walk, but it’s perfect as you pick up speed out of the neighborhood and head towards town. For several miles, all you hear is the controlled sound of your breath and your feet hitting the ground. You push further and faster than you ever have before, extending your route up the hill past Hill’s Cinema (the one room movie theatre) and winding back down around the city center park. By the time you’re trotting back to the house, the sun is high overhead and the chill of a bitter winter day is creeping in. Covered in a thick sheen of sweat, you head for the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of water and drink it. After a few moments, you happen to see a foot peeking from around the corner near the bottom of the stairs.

“Sam,” you call high pitched. You don’t want to look. The tight grip of fear rises in your chest as you round the corner and find him sprawled on the floor, face down still in his pajamas. Dropping to your knees, you turn him over. The moment you touch his torso, you can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt, he’s drenched. “Sam, can you hear me?” You brush away the damp hair stuck to his forehead. He’s burning up, his whole body is radiating heat. You’re not sure what to do, the only semblance of medical training you have is from watching re-runs of House on daytime cable. Shaking your hands in a panic, you try to mentally put together a list of priorities. At the top of that list is his breathing, so you press an ear to his febrile, damp chest and listen. He’s breathing shallowly, but his heart is galloping a hundred miles a minute. He’s so hot, you know it has to be dangerous, his body temperature must be cooking him from the inside out.

“Sam!” You yell, right at the shell of his ear. He’s three times your size and you know there’s no way you can move him on your own. “Sam! Wake up!”

When he doesn’t move, you do the only thing that comes to mind, you slap him, hard and fast right across the face. He jerks and his eyes flutter open with a groan. Thank God.

“Hey, can you hear me?” You hover over him, his eyes rolling back into this head for a moment before settling on you.

“What?” he slurs, his face contorting.

“You gotta help me Sam, you have to get up.” You move behind him, lifting him into a sitting position and fuck if he isn’t ridiculously heavy, his limp body doing nothing to assist you. “I can’t do this by myself. We just have to get to the shower, it’s right there.”

You grab his face and turn his focus to the small bathroom just off the entryway. “Okay,” he gulps and squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m dizzy.”

“I know, but we gotta do this now. Come on.” You stand in front of him, taking his hands and pulling with every ounce of strength you can muster. With a minimal amount of assistance, you hike him up, his arm grasping at your shoulders. The two of you shuffle down the hall, his weight threatening to take you both down. You get him into the shower, where he collapses onto his butt with a thud.

“My brain feels like it’s boiling,” he rubs a hand over his face.

“You’re gonna feel better in a minute.” In reality you have no idea if what you’re doing will help in the slightest, but he doesn't need to know that. You climb in the tub behind him and he instantly falls limp between your legs, his back crushing your chest as his head leans back on your shoulder. The fever is practically pulsing through him, his cheeks are bright red and heartbeat still quick, threatening to beat out of his chest. With your shoe, you kick at the faucet until a burst of freezing water erupts from the shower head and gushes over the both of you. You both yell in shock as the icy stream soaks your clothes and washes over your skin. After a few torturous minutes, the drop in temperature seems to calm his body. You’re shaking, teeth chattering as you feel his hand grip your knee. He turns his head toward you, his face at your throat.

“This is not at all how I imagined taking our first shower.”

“First?” You laugh, completely exasperated, chin trembling, “talk about presumptuous.”

You wrap an arm around him from behind, squeezing his wide shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You scared the shit out of me, Sam.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “didn’t mean to.”

Once he’s fully coherent, you give him aspirin, find him a change of clothes, and tuck him back into his bed. He grabs your hand as you walk away, pulling you beside him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

You smile, patting his chest “It’s what we do, right? You and me ‘till the wheels fall off.”

One Year, Nine Months

Sam has no intentions of going through your stuff, he’s just out of toothpaste and you’re out for a run. He pads into your en suite bathroom, feeling like a kid who’s trespassing in his parent's bedroom. Neither of you have ever said your rooms were off limits, but there’s an unspoken respect for personal space. He pulls open a few drawers, pushing around lotions and q-tips when he sees it. He knows what the pills are the moment he lays eyes on them. Amelia’s were in the same pink, little plastic case she pulled out of her purse every time the alarm on her phone went off. Looking behind and satisfied you’re nowhere nearby, he pops the case open, to find half the pack empty.

You’re taking birth control pills.

If he’d asked you about it, you would have told him that you found them in the pharmacy a year ago, right after the ‘almost kiss’ and figured that taking precautions was the smart thing to do. You didn’t know where this thing with Sam was going, but it felt like it might sneak up on you someday and you didn’t want any more surprises.

Sam looks at the pills again, weighing out several scenarios until he hears you bounding up the stairs. He hastily shoves the pack back in the drawer behind an open box of tampons. He finds the toothpaste just as you swing through the doorway, sweating and breathless.

“Jesus Christ,” you jump startled at the sight of him.

“Sorry,” he smiles tightly, waving a tube of Crest, “just trying to brush my teeth.”

One Year, Ten Months

You slide on sock feet over the hardwood of the living floor and take a seat at the edge of the arm chair. “I’m going to the greenhouse.”

“You want me to come with you?” Sam glances up from his nest on the floor with a pen between his teeth. He’s sitting cross legged in front of the coffee table, books and notes everywhere.

“No, I’m good, I need some quality time in with my African Violets.” You tie your sneakers, watching him as he shakes his head and makes a note on an already crowded legal pad. For a moment, you let your mind wander. The intellectual in you, the woman that loves historical fiction and collects vintage copies of the periodic table, can’t help but be insanely attracted to this man.

He will never know how utterly delicious he looks in a v-neck t shirt, barefoot, and lost in some obscure text. Sam’s always a little sweaty and at this very moment, there’s a sheen layer of perspiration right at the hollow of his throat that’s nudging your mind in a thousand directions. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex, but you don’t hold onto hope because Sam might as well be the president of the Shadow Hill Abstinence Society.

“I’ll bring you lunch,” he offers, without looking up.

“Sounds good, see you later.”

You hop on your bike and enjoy the ride to the greenhouse. It’s on the far side of town, a little over a mile, and you shiver in the cool morning air, your thin coat doing little for the brisk ride.

Green Thumbs, as the sign reads, is a fully functioning hot house as big as a barn. The heat hits you in a wave as you open the frosted glass door, enjoying the smell of the flowers and earth that overtakes your senses. You check on Sam’s plants first, the ones he asked you to cultivate for spell work. You fuss over the Mugwort and water the Lady’s Mantle before moving to your orchids that require repotting. At first, you didn’t know if you’d be able to grow anything, with Shadow Hill wiping the slate clean, but the greenhouse has proven to be space that allows change to stick. Your flowers and herbs grow tall and strong, perhaps better than they should. You lose track of time, surprised when you hear movement behind you.

“Hey you,” you see Sam and turn to greet him with a sweet genuine smile.

Sam gulps. It’s hot in here and you're in a tank top that’s sticking to your sweaty, glistening body. There’s dirt smeared over your stomach and arms and a little just beside your nose. Your hair is a wild mess, barely contained by the failing ponytail. He’s been having a harder and harder time with his own self control when it comes to you, but this is the moment he knows that it’s only a matter of time before the dam breaks.

“Sandwiches,” he holds up a paper bag, looking at you with the familiar yet strange look he gets from time to time. You have no idea what goes in that head of his, but you’d like to find out. You wash your hand off with the hose and join him on the small wooden bench for turkey sandwiches. He hands you a bottle of water as you catch his eyes wandering over your body.

You glare at him, “I know I’m a filthy mess. I promise I’ll shower before I sit on the furniture, okay, dad?”

Sam just chuckles, looking at roses and biting into his food, “You’re so far off base you don’t even know it.”

One Year, Eleven Months, Two Weeks

A deafening crash of thunder rips you from your slumber, as your heart beats nearly out of your chest. The second boom makes you jump, as lightning illuminates your room. It’s so loud, that it sounds as if the heavens might crack open from the power. Rain is falling heavily on the roof as you crawl out of bed and look out your second story window. The clouds look low enough that the far mountain peaks appear claustrophobic at the proximity. Between the flashes of lightning, there’s an inky darkness that sinks into the marrow of your bones. You glance at the clock next to your bed, but it’s black. Great, the power must be out. You don’t like storms. Most of the time, you’re an adult and you can power through it, but this is loud and bright and something feels uneasy and electric all around you. You make your way across the hall and rap at Sam’s door.

After a moment, you hear, “Y/N?” You turn the handle and creep inside as he sits up, shirtless and dazed.

“I um, I just...the storm woke me up,” you shift from one foot to the other, standing in his doorway.

“You want me to get up with you?” he mumbles, trying to shake himself from his sleep.

“No, I’m being a baby, go back to sleep. I’ll read or something.”

Sam throws back the sheets on the open side of his bed, and nods with his chin, “Get in here.”

You don’t hesitate, you crawl in beside him, and he pulls the cover up to your waist. You don’t know if he’s fully coherent or not, but he rolls into you, as if it’s no big deal. His body presses into your side, his face burying into your neck and his hand sliding across your stomach and coming to rest on your hip.

Shit.

You lay like that for a while, now more awake than ever before in your life. Everywhere he’s touching you feels excruciatingly sensitive, like you’re in overdrive. Sam’s breathing hot at your neck just under your jaw and instead of softening with sleep, it’s only getting faster and faster. A crack of thunder roars down from the night sky and you involuntarily jerk. Sam’s hand tightens around your hip, his body pressing into your side as he murmurs, “I’ve got you.”

You feel the shift of his head as his lays a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, it’s not a grand gesture, but it’s supremely intimate as you lay here in his bed. He kisses you again, this time moving down a little further, just the tip of his tongue darting out to taste your skin.

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip your head away, giving him more access. His hand moves from your hip back over your stomach, resting his palm just below your belly button.

“Can I touch you?” he murmurs at the shell of your ear. You exhale in a desperate, fractured moan.

“Yes,” you whisper, nodding.

Sam pulls at the hem of your nightgown and before you know what’s happening, it’s up and over your head, leaving you completely naked. He makes a guttural grunt of approval, pleased to see you’ve forgone undergarments. Still on his side, he leans over and cups one of your breasts with a calloused hand, taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasp, his wet tongue sliding over the hardened bud before tugging gently with his teeth.

His fingers play down your abdomen, barely grazing, as his touch sinks lower. You feel his fingers swipe over your sex, the tip of his fingers delicately stroking over your lips. When he feels that you’re wet, he pushes further, coating his fingers with your own slick. The pressure of his finger shallow inside you makes you quiver, your thighs falling apart.

Continuing to mouth your breast, his finger moves upward, out of your pussy to find your clit with expert efficiency. He rubs over the little bundle of nerves, eliciting a buck of your hips.

For what seems like a lifetime, he works your body just like this. His hand between your legs and nipple between his lips. His finger moves back and forth across your clit, rubbing and coaxing soft moans as you rock your hips up into this hand. Sam rolls his tongue over your nipple, then clenches down sending shocks that reverberate in your nether regions.

“I’m going to taste you,” he explains calmly, pressing a kiss between your breasts, moving downward placing his lips at the crown of your ribcage.

“Sam,” you puff, his words only adding to the anticipation, just a vague outline of what’s to come next, leaving him to fill in the details. The caress of his lips travel down your stomach, stopping for a moment to trace the outline of your belly button with his tongue. As he moves lower, he readjusts his body, crawling between your legs, hooking his hand behind one of your knees and bending your legs, using his shoulders to hold your shaking thighs open for him.

There’s a scrape of his teeth over the mound of your sex and you feel his breath before anything else, hot and warm with his face so close to your apex. Then his fingers; Sam uses his thumb and index finger to peel you open, revealing the throbbing little bundle of nerves.

There’s a tight swell of anticipation building in your stomach, but it’s nothing to prepare you for what comes next. With the tip of his tongue, slippery and warm, he scoops up and over your clit, once, twice, three times.

“Sam,” you groan, your back arching as he repeats the same, slow lick, just his tongue and fingers to hold you open. With his free hand, he reaches up, spreading his palm wide over your stomach, holding you down. Without warning, his whole mouth engulfs you, running his tongue flat and hard over the sweet spot that now controls every inch of your body.

Sam’s fantasized plenty of times about what you would taste like, but it’s different, better than he imagined. You’re salty and metallic in his mouth, making him only want more. He has a plan for this first time, what and how he wants to pleasure you. Between the noises you're making and the insistent thrust of your hips into his face, he knows he’s right on target.

He could do this for hours, incandescently happy with his head in a vice grip between your thighs, with a mouth full of tangy slick.

You don’t know long he’s down there, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes? All with his tongue making spine-tingling circles around your most sensitive parts. He knows what he’s doing too, changing his rhythm, adjusting the pressure of his tongue to keep you from coming, he doesn’t want that yet.

He knows you want more, he almost fucks you with his fingers, but he wants the first thing you feel pushing inside to be his cock. He wants you to come for the first time while he’s in you. He wants to watch you pulse and shake while he’s sunk deep. His dick is rock hard, grinding against the sheets as he thinks about it.

“Sam,” he scrapes his teeth over your clit when you call his name, groaning into your pussy. His tongue dips down, teasing between your folds before moving back up to his focus area. All you want is something, anything to fill you up, his tongue, his hand, his cock, the specifics don’t matter.

“You want me inside you?” he asks, looking up from your thighs.

“Please, God yes,” you groan at the sight of him, crawling back up over your body.

He settles his hips between your own, pushing his sweatpants down his thighs. His hand brushes stray hair out of your face and then he kisses you for the second time since you’ve known him. His lips meet yours, diving deep with a scoop of his tongue.

Lost in the bliss of his body weight and mouth, you feel his hand between you, then the head of his cock rubbing over your clit and between your folds. There’s the sweet moment when he presses the tip into you for the first time, slowly sinking as you stretch around him. You moan into his mouth, his kisses deepening as he slides thick and stiff until he’s fully seated.

You feel impossibly full, it’s an incredible sensation that sends pleasure shooting out from where he’s sunk inside you. You wiggle your hips, canting up to his, desperate to take as much of him as you can.

Breathless and panting, Sam’s mouth parts from yours. He reaches up to grab the rung of the headboard for leverage and drops his mouth to the hollow of your throat, kissing sweat soaked skin as he moves, pulling out and thrusting back into you with a force that makes your eyes pop wide.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, reaching for the pillows, the other hand clinging to his arm as his veins bulge with tension.

“You feel so good,” Sam groans as he’s trying his best to make this last. He wants you to remember this first time as intense and incredible, but he’s not sure he can last as long as he’d prefer. You’re so tight around him, like he’s balls deep in hot silk. You’re squirming under him, rubbing your pretty little body up into his like your life depends on it.

He looks down at you, your lip caught between your teeth, naked and straining at the sheets. Sam thinks you twisting under the weight of him is the best thing he’s ever seen in his life. He fucks you hard and slow, pushing all the way in and grinding his hips in slow circles that turns you to into a quivering mess of wet, raw nerves.

His mouth is everywhere, at your mouth, neck, biting at the ball of your shoulder. He moves from those mind blowing grinds to a steady rhythm as the rooms fills with the rolling thunder and the wet, carnal slap of his body into yours. You’re both close, the pumping of his hips faster and harder than before.

“Can I come inside you?” he pants, a growing desperation in his voice.

“Oh God,” you sink your nails into his back, frantic to pull him deeper at the very thought. “Yes, Sam, don’t stop.”

He props himself up on his elbows, his hips snapping fast as your breasts bounce with every thrust. Your nipples are still hard and he can’t help but take one back into his mouth, sucking hard as his hand snakes between your bodies.

His thumb presses over your clit, flicking up and down as he slows his movements. He grinds slow, just like before and you tip over the edge. You come in a glorious crescendo of pulsing nerves and taut muscles, clinging to him like a life raft.

Sam feels it, your body throbbing around his cock as you chant his name. You’re so beautiful, head thrashing to the side, mouth open, lost in the pleasure.

Before your orgasm has completely ended, he’s moving again, quick hard thrusts that make your muscles clench. Sam comes with your name on his tongue, filling you with everything he has, rocking slowly as he empties, twitching inside you. His forehead falls to the crook of your neck as his movements slow to a snail's pace. You rub his back, hands trailing up and down until he’s totally still.

Kissing you, he pulls out then flops onto his back and you lay side by side, silent in the dark as the rain continues to fall in sheets outside the window.

Sam brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing softly. “I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

“Me too,” you confess. This has wide ranging implications, none of which you want to think about right now. You’re sated with Sam and pleasure and that’s where you want to stay for the rest of the night. You feel him shift onto his side, his hand over your stomach again, dipping between your legs to feel the wet of your thighs, the product of his hard work and your arousal. “I need to get you into a shower.”

“The power was out…” You glance to his bedside clock which is lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Looks like it came back on,” he sits up.

“Not yet, I want to lie here a little while longer.” When you protest, he moves back to you, pulling you into the crook of his arm where you're both sweaty and overheated. “I just wanna be like this, just for a few minutes.”

“Whatever you want,” he concedes, not five minutes later he’s snoring gently.

But you don’t fall back to sleep. You lie in the dark, as the storm rages outside. You think about Sam and Shadow Hill and wonder if all this will actually last.

This story is complete (44k) and available now on Patreon for a pledge of 2.50. >>CLICK HERE<<

Tags: @smallgirlbigpersonality @mereka18 @gryffindorable713 @trainlikeawinchester @winchesterprincessbride @bamby0304 @saxxxology @notyourtypicalrose @mariekoukie6661 @little-big-mac2 @emoryhemsworth @mystrie @atc74 @holyfuckloueh @bunnybaby121115 @mogaruke @darkmystress00 @jaspesangriento @kazuha159 @mirandaaustin93 @crispychrissy @schilj79 @wilde-abandon @hennessy0274-blog @bojabee @miss-samantha-winchester @impalaimagining @andkatiethings @astephez @ladycynthia @mrswhozeewhatsis @lenawiinchester @feelmyroarrrr @mrs-meghan-winchester @har-rystyles @mistressofallthingsgeeky @theamuz @maui137 @stars-and-seas @vale0413 @impala67trenchcoat @curly-haired-disaster @ericaprice2008 @livelikeawinchester @althehufflepuff @itsthesamegametoday @bohowitch @spnwoman @just-a-normal-eccentric @gallifreyansass @StoneyGGirl @lonely-skys @81mysteriouslyme @missrandomista @soupornatural @stars-and-seas @natura1phenomenon @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @81mysteriouslyme @likhelbentin @mrooks0205 @zombiewerewolfqueen @winchesterprincessbride @squirrel-moose-winchester @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @closetspngirl @dominodoll @rainflowermoon @cleighwrites @camelotandastronauts @imarockstar45 @thebeastinside19 @courtney-padalecki @itsthesamegametoday @virtualgirlfriendsan @daisymoder72 @fandom-is-my-middle-name @mysticmcu @luciferseclipse @malinda1997 @sunlight-dean @rockhoochie @collette04 @sandlee44 @ohnowin-chester @maddiepants @fandom-princess-forevermore @geeksareunique @femdeni314 @lazinessisalliknow @samwinchesterssexyface @the-yellow-girl96 @that67chevy @that-weird-asian-gorl @lmitchell78 @snffbeebee @fandom-is-my-middle-name @calaofnoldor @prettyinplaid94 @squirrelnotsam @spnwoman @luciferseclipse @daddys-littlewhitegirl @fanfictionjunkie1112

#East of nowhere #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfic #series

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thatonecurlygirl · 5 years ago

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Navigating Nick Amaro [8]

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU Pairing: Nick x Reader Word Count: 1.8k Read more: Navigating Nick Amaro Masterlist

“You keep dozing off, there’s no way you could have drove.” Nick chuckles as he passes a car and glances over at you.

“I’m not dozing off, I’m just resting my eyes.” You yawn.

“Right.” He chuckles. “We are almost there, we are about a mile away.”

“Thank goodness.” You groan out. “I mean, like the ride, I’m ready to be out of the car for a while.” You add after seeing him flinch slightly.

Nick nods and the rest of the ride to his house is quiet. The streets are full of cars, people are walking everywhere. It’s warmer here and it seems almost brighter, but that’s likely because of being someone other than where you’ve lived nearly your whole life.

“Wow.” You say under your breath as you watch everything pass by through the window.

“Here we are.” He says pulling into the driveway of a cute one-story house with a great view. “I’ll grab the bags, will you go open it up for me?” He asks, handing you the keys.

“Yeah, of course.”

You hop out of the passenger seat and practically run-up to the house, quickly unlocking the door, excited to see this new house. Once the rent door is unlocked and open, you glance back, just for a moment to see Nick’s large hand running down the front of his handsome face that holds a pained expression. You feel that in your chest, the hurt, the pain for seeing his pain.

What the hell were you supposed to do? You’ve been in love with Nick since junior year of high school and all of a sudden the two of you sleep together and he wants you to move in. There has been no time to process what happened and you are confused and scared.

“You need help with anything Nicky?” You ask.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Why don’t you go on in and take a look around.”

You stand there, hesitant for a moment before quietly sighing and turning inside. You wander around, through the living room and kitchen, down the hallways to the bedrooms. You walk out the back door the patio and small back yard they will likely share with a dog as soon as you can find the right one to gift little Zara and Gil with when they come to visit their father.

There are boxes scattered around all the rooms labeled different things like kitchen, master bed, living room. You step into the bedroom you can only assume to be his and open a box on the top of one of the stacks. There you find a photo album, a familiar faux leather-bound one that you gifted him your senior year of high school, only a quarter of the book filled when you gave it to him after graduation.

Smiling, you sit on the floor, right up against the wall and crack the book open. On the first page is the two of you in freshman year, faces annoyed as your mom had taken pictures of the two of you in front of the school. Another of the two of you gone as Zorro and a witch.

“God, I look so cheesy.” Nick chuckles as he looks over your shoulder and sits down next to you.

“I look like a dollar store, witch.” You scoff.

“I think you were trying to go for the sexy look.” He nudges you.

“Obviously, that didn’t turn out how I expected.” You laugh and turn the page. “Oh wow, homecoming senior year. That was when Ricky Baukins ditched me and you saved me from humiliation.”

“That’s what I’m always here for.” He smiles. “Look, this one is my favorite.”

Nick flips a couple pages until he finds the one he was looking for. It’s a picture of you laying on a couch dead asleep as a little Zara is asleep on you. The two of you looking so peaceful.

“I’ve never seen this picture before.” You smile, caressing the edge of it.

“You would have killed me.” He chuckles.

“You’re right, I probably would have. She was so little then. I remember when you first told me Maria was pregnant. I almost had a heart attack.” You sigh. “And the first time I held Zara. God, I was so proud of you — still am.”

Nick just smiles, staring off at the far corner before standing up and crossing the room toward the door. He just walks out without a word, leaving you sitting there confused before you dive back into the photo album. You flip through dozens of pictures of him with the kids, or the kids together, his work friends, him and you. The last page that you come to has two pictures, both of just you. One on your latest birthday, when he went out with you to the bar. The other picture is of you at what looks to be one of the softball games that Nick played. By the little finger blocking a portion of the picture it looks like it was taken by Zara. You never knew he had these pictures.

“You hungry?” He pops his head in the door. “Because I just ordered some pizza.”

“Extra cheese?” You ask, standing up and gently setting the photo album back into the box.

“Of course.” He chuckles. “You want to help me paint in here?” He steps further inside and holds up a can of paint.

“Sure, let’s get this started.” You nod, pulling your hair into a low ponytail as you walk across the room to open the window, stepping across the mattress on the floor as you do so.

The soft, nature green color of the walls itself nearly transformed the room. The smell of paint still swirls around the room as you push yourself up off the mattress that you fell asleep last night watching the paint dry and eating pizza that had gone cold. Looking around the room, you find that Nick must not have slept in here with you as there is no sign that he had.

“Nick?” You yawn, managing to sleepily stumble through the halls until you find him passed out on the couch, limbs hanging haphazardly off the edges.

You smile, glancing out the back sliding door at the lazy sun, slowly rising to the sky, before turning back around and shuffling back to the bedroom. You pick up a few things, before heading over to where you were asleep to check your phone laying amid the thin blanket. When you lift your phone, it lights up with messages from your boss.

“Damn,” Your chest tightens, knowing well what is sure to come as you lift your phone to your ear, pressing redial.

“Y/l/n! Where are you?” Mr. Brays asks, voice loud and harsh.

“I’m on vacation, remember?” Your voice small and quiet, like all the times he yells at you. Which only happens when he isn’t coming on to you or ‘accidentally’ brushing against your ass or boobs.

“What are you talking about being on vacation? I never approved vacation for you!” He screams back.

Your voice must’ve awoken Nick, because he sleepily walks into the room, yawning and rubbing his eyes that go wide when he sees the tears in them. “What’s wrong?” He mouths, but you just shake your head.

“You approved it three months ago, sir.”

“Well, you are the only fucking person in this damn place that knows how to do their job somewhat correctly. You need to cut your dilly-dallying short and get back here now.” He says as you can hear others talking to him on his end.

“But sir, I can’t just-” You hiccup from the tears as Nick makes his way over.

“I said now!” Mr. Brays yells into the phone as Nick snatches it away from you, bringing it to his ear.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are talking to Y/n like that, but you better fucking learn today to watch what you say,” Nick growls into the phone.

“You’re going to make it worse.” You hiss at him, grabbing the phone back and walking out to the bathroom, before shutting yourself inside. “I’m sorry about that sir.”

“So you skip work to sleep with some guy, is that what’s going on?” He asks, voice even but obviously irritated.

“No sir, not at all. I am helping my friend move to California.”

“Well, you need to get back here now if you want to keep your job, no excuses.” He sounds impatient which is never good, although he is always impatient.

“Yes, sir.”

You walk out of the bathroom and through the hall like a dog that’s just been scolded, tail between its legs and head bowed. Nick stands at the end of the hallway, anger ever resent on his handsome face. His mouth opens, but before he can say anything you speak.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Nick.” You snap, gathering your things.

“Oh, so you are going to let that asshole control you? What happened to being an independent woman, Y/n?” He scoffs.

“What the hell does any of this have to do with being independent? I am relying on myself to get shit done, not my asshole boss that you so eloquently pissed off.” You shove a pair of clothes in your bag. “I am being independent.”

“You aren’t standing up for yourself!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to do it for me, Nick!” You stand up, facing him. Both of your faces red with anger. “You’re making the damn situation worse.”

“I can’t just let him treat you like that.” He defends himself.

“Nick, you’ve never been my boyfriend and fucking me doesn’t make you my boyfriend either, so stop fucking acting like it.” You stare at him, eyes squinted. “Relationships don’t work out for either of us and the common denominator is you, so watch screwing up the rest of my life.

Nick’s jaw clenches, the vein in his head throbbing and hands balled in fists. Nick has always had explosive anger, but never has it been aimed towards you. Right now, it looks like you are about to be given a ticket to your very own showing of a Nick Amaro explosion. Just when you think he is about to open his mouth and rip you a new one, he pushes past you and right out the front door, mumbling something about a walk.

The moment he walks out the door, your anger and frustration take an immediate nosedive. All your emotions his you at once and you call for an Uber through the tears and you pull your bags out the door and sit on the porch to wait. Five minutes away.

_ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _

@sigh-me-a-river @kaybee87 @svucarisiaddict @babypink224221 @sonnysdoll @sasbb23 @encounterthepast @breakawayfromeveryday @mrsamaroevans

#Navigating Nick Amaro Series #SVU travel series #Nick Amaro #nick x reader #nick amaro x reader #Danny Pino #law and order svu #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #svu fic #svu

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lonely-full-of-secrets · 5 years ago

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Love Sacrificed (Fangs Fogarty x Reader)

Word Count: 1519

Summary: Fangs sacrifices your relationship for your future

A/n: written for the daily one word prompt challenge on the southsidearchive discord. Prompt: sacrifice

As a Southsider, you know the risks of getting involved with the Serpents. You grew up knowing the risks, nobody had to tell you twice. But despite knowing what could happen, no one prepares you for the emotional tolls it can have on you. Loving a Serpent is dangerous.

You knew this going into your relationship with Fangs Fogarty. He was the son of a Serpent which meant he would be one too, but you didn't care. When one falls in love, nothing else matters and nothing or nobody can keep them apart.

You and Fangs have been dating for almost four years. Freshman year of high school was when you met him. He didn't have much confidence back then. It was actually kind of adorable the way he stumbled over his words trying to ask if you had a partner for a project that wasn't even due for a couple of months.

Now, he was a cocky son of bitch. Fangs already knows how much you love him and it just feeds his ego whenever you remind him. Don't let that fool you though, he's still that adorable dork you met freshman year, only with a lot more confidence.

Even though you're not a member of the Serpents, a lot of your friends are. In fact, most of the people you know are either Serpents or they're dating someone who is one. You're all there for each other when needed. It's like having one huge family despite the hardships suffered by everyone who is in one way or another connected to the gang.

Things with Fangs have never been weird. Sure you’ve had your disagreements like most other couples but you rarely, if ever, fought. So when he came over one night and picked a fight over something so small and insignificant you knew something was wrong.

Things just escalated from there. At first it was a lot of bickering, until it wasn't. Soon it was full fledged angry yelling at each other. All the time.

This was the summer before college. You thought it’d be full of fun and adventure with impromptu road trips and going to amusement parks. But the only rollercoaster you were riding was an emotional one. One where the screams were not filled with excitement but rather of anger and resentment.

Everyday you drifted further and further apart and it was starting to be too painful to bear. So, you decided to confront him about it. You waited for him in his trailer until he got home.

When you first arrived you sat on his couch running what you were going to say through your mind. But every possible scenario you imagined ended badly.

The air felt hot and thick. You started breathing heavily but it just burned your nose and throat. You ran to the window and yanked it open. The hot summer air did nothing to sooth your breathing difficulties. So, you went to the freezer to breathe in its cool air. After about a minute or two, you felt better and finally shut the freezer door.

You didn’t need your mind wandering into dark places again. Instead you busied myself by tidying up the place a bit. Not that it really needed it. Fangs was a really clean guy.

As you were wiping down his counters, you heard the key turn in the lock and Fangs appeared behind the door.

He seemed pleasantly surprised to see you. “Y/n? I didn’t know you’d be here. If I did I would have bought some food on my way home,” he kissed your cheek and went to his fridge.

The kiss had surprised you. He hadn’t done that in a while. Before this summer, Fangs always found any excuse he could to kiss you. But ever since he came home from a particular Serpent run, things changed.

That made you question what really happened that day. You told him you didn’t want to know what he did on those runs. You preferred to be left in the dark about that part of his life. Not just because it was safer that you didn't know, but because you selfishly wanted to preserve the image of that sweet, innocent, dorky boy you met Freshman year of high school.

But you also reminded him that if he ever needed someone to talk to about it, you’d be there for him with open ears. He never did though.

His hot and cold personality was confusing you. You never knew which Fangs to expect. Right now you were just glad he at least didn't seem annoyed that you showed up uninvited and unannounced, unlike last time.

You leaned against the counter and sighed. “Fangs, what are we doing?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” he wondered, not looking at you but still searching for something edible in his refrigerator.

You fidgeted with your fingers before taking the plunge and just getting it out there. “All the fighting. Lately it just feels like we’re miles away from each other. I hate it.”

He paused what he was doing and stood and held the refrigerator door open as he looked at you, suddenly disinterested in the conversation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Maybe we’re just growing apart.” Then he looked back to the fridge.

You blinked back and stood up straight, heart beating faster. Moments passed and he still didn't look at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you finally asked, afraid of his answer.

He avoided your gaze as he said, “It means I think we should break up.”

Those words hurt like hell. It nearly broke you, but at the same time it infuriated you.

You scoffed a laugh. “Seriously? That's it? Three and a half years and you can't even have the decency to look at me while you break my heart. Because that's what you just did. I gave you everything, my trust, my love. I bared my soul to you, told you things I could barely admit to myself, and this is what I get in return?” You didn’t scream at him. You didn’t need to, he heard the conviction in your voice loud and clear.

“I know things haven't been right for a long time. But I can't help you if you don't tell me what’s wrong. I want to be there for you Fangs, like you have been for me. So tell me. Tell me what's wrong and we can work through it together.”

He scoffed in annoyance, “But that's just it.” He finally looked up at you. “I don't want you to.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion. “Why not? Please, just help me understand. I love you, Fangs. I thought we needed each other?”

“Yeah well, I don’t need you anymore.” His face was expressionless. You couldn’t get a read on him like you usually could. Fangs wore his expressions openly. It’s what made him bad a poker.

You felt hot tears sting your eyes but you refused to let them slip past. “I thought you loved me?”

He remained silent. He didn’t know what to say to that. What could he say? He was already breaking your heart enough as it was. Telling you he never loved you would not only ruin you but him too. He couldn’t say those words.

Your tears were free falling now. They wouldn’t stay back anymore. “I could say that I wished I’d never met you, but that would be a lie. Even though this hurts, I will never regret loving you Fangs. Just remember you were the one who did this to us.”

You turned to leave but when you got to the front door Fangs finally cracked, the pain and frustration clear in his voice. “Do you know how hard it's been trying to push you away when you're the love of my life? I want nothing more than to spend my life by your side,” he shouted.

You didn’t dare look back at him. Not if he was only giving you false hope in his confession. “So why don't you?”

He sighed and whispered as if you two weren’t the only ones in the room. “You deserve better. A better life away from the Serpents, away from the poverty and the violence. Look at me,” he turned you around to face him as he cupped your face in his hands, “you are meant for so much more than this piece of shit town. I just want to protect you from it.”

He wiped away more tears that fell from your eyes. “You will never let this go will you?”

He shook his head, his own tears spilling over.

You leaned into him for at least one last kiss. At least he gave you that. It was soft and tender but didn’t last nearly as long as you would have wanted it to. Fangs pulled you away from him and said, “Goodbye Y/n.”

It hurt you deeply but you turned and left his trailer, leaving your shattered heart there with him.

#fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty x reader #riverdale drabble #fangs forgarty imagine #fangs fogarty drabble #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #fangs fogarty prompt #daily prompt #lonely-full-of-secrets #mine

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jodywegner · 6 years ago

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A bad day. (I just need to rant into the abyss of the internet)

I’ve never actually left work early for a bad day before. But I felt that today if I didn’t, I’d end up embarrassing myself and ruining all of my relationships with my coworkers or better yet end up in the HR office. It was just an accumulation of a few too many small things that have been building up for months while I’m emotionally vulnerable.

I also know that none of my coworkers will ever see this post. But even if they do, I doubt they were aware of my feelings. The worst part is that nothing is really anyone’s fault. There’s no bad guy, and that makes it all the more frustrating, and that finally came to a head today. Because I can’t chew people out for doing nothing wrong. Sorry for the long post. Lotta resentments getting bottled up.

So context. 1. My grandfather has been in declining health for a while now. This isn’t very upsetting for me. He’s in his mid 90s and lived a full life. We were all provided for and everything is taken care of. For me, it feels more like a natural thing that is now finally happening. My aunt and my father have been fighting for years over different things, but my grandfather’s declining health has definitely rekindled the flames of war. 2. I work in TV animation production, and my goal is to become a storyboard artist. I’ve made that goal clear. I’ve asked for tests but I can never get any. I’ve asked for feedback and no one has given me any. The shining star of this was my boss giving me 5 long minutes of not quite saying “it’s not good enough.” I figured he was busy and didn’t want to hurt my feelings. He did say that if he hadn’t hired our then current revisionist, he’d love to have me start as one. Since then, he’s hired 4 more revisionists who have come and gone for different reasons. 3. I don’t think I draw that fucking bad. I’ve been told my artists I work with “why don’t you have an art job yet?” which the answer is “because no one will fucking give me one when I ask and you guys aren’t in a position to.” (they mean it as a compliment but it just really keeps bringing me down whenever I fail) And there are a lot of people my age getting art jobs while I’m not and yah I’m not that old but it’s very stressful and discouraging regardless of logic and optimism. 4. My intern this last semester showed my boss a sample board and got extensive notes and feedback and was offered freelance revision work even though she’s still a junior in college. She’s 3 years younger than me and was here for 2 months. My boss literally walked into my office then started talking to her in the adjacent cube over the wall about how good she is and the upcoming freelance revisionist work. And I have to sit there quietly and pretend it’s not killing me. 5. I’m lactose intolerant. 6. I guess I’ve been suffering from job related depression for the above reasons. Nothing major, I’m not suicidal, but I’m definitely very unhappy and going to work is definitely not a fun or even neutral experience anymore. It’s hard because the correct answer to my problem is “git gud’ and we all know how NOT FUCKING HELPFUL that is. Today 1. I get a text from my parents at 6 am telling me that my grandfather has passed away. We went over yesterday to say our goodbyes expecting him to pass either today or tomorrow. We left at around 8pm and asked my aunt to call us when he passed and that we’d come over. So my parents find out that he passed away at 6 am today. From a third party that isn’t even FUCKING RELATED TO US. Apparently my grandfather had passed away 10 minutes after we left yesterday, and she decided not to let us know. We had to find out through some other person offering my father his condolences. 2. Well the two coworkers I am closest with were late for miscellaneous reasons so I kinda had to keep #1 bottled up for 2 hours. 3. When things happen, I bluster and storm for the first hour before calming down and becoming rational. So I’m sitting at my desk all morning trying my best to keep my shit together because I’m absolutely fuming and was (forbid) by my mother to retaliate. She’s not wrong but there’s a lotta stress and emotions here. (3.5. Although I was directly forbid retaliation, I still went ahead and planned it anyways because it was a mildly constructive use of my stress. DM me if you want to know how to ruin someone’s entire week and never get caught.) 4. I took some Lactaid 30 minutes before I decided to finish my leftover mac n cheese from the fancy food truck yesterday as breakfast. Yah the Lactaid didn’t work at all for some ungodly reason... It’s 9am and I’m in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally now.... 5. So one of my favored coworkers finally beats traffic and gets in so I go to talk to her about all of this. I immediately get cry-y. Which blah blah blah crying is part of grieving but I can do that later. It’s not great when I’m at work because crying opens up the floodgate of emotions and the near impossible task of re-wrangling them under control is now daunting. Emotional fortitude -50. And people just kinda didn’t notice that I was crying and upset and not very quietly recounting this horrible morning story. They kinda walked right by. Not a single person other than that one coworker (and my other favored one who came in a bit later) offered me any condolences or asked about how I was doing of if I was ok. It’d be one thing if that happened and no one was around and I regained my composure. BUT I DIDN’T. 6. That fucking intern (who’s a nice person but god I wish they’d stop existing in my life. It’s fucking petty but today is really the worst day for it so fuck it I’m saying it.) is coming in for a big storyboard meeting between all the board artists, revisionists, and supervisors. So I had to see her and pretend to smile and be pleasant and supportive while I’m emotionally compromised, grieving, pissed, and now petty and jealous all over again. So I get that out of the way and I sit back down and get to work. 7. The other coworker I like to talk to comes in. She was a former intern who also wants to be a board artist so we try to help each other in our endeavors together. She’s an optimist. She says that she’s going to ask if she can sit in on the meeting and asks if I’d like to come along. Bless her outgoing-ness that I struggle with. But as much as I’d like to... that’s a room full of people who either forgot that I want to be a board artist, don’t care, or are straight up ignoring me about it and keep doing and saying all of these unintentionally hurtful things to and near me. Also that fucking intern is there. Also I’m pissed. Also I’m emotionally distraught. So I declined her offer. Even if I could get something good out of that meeting, I’m pretty sure I would have just had a breakdown in the corner. So I didn’t want to embarrass myself like that or make people feel uncomfortable for doing their normal business. 8. So by this point I’m sure I’m going to be snippy or mean or start crying in front of people, so my goal was to finish my most important task and leave at noon. I finish, I grab my bag to leave. As I do, they all get out of their storyboard meeting and bluster past me because they are now late for seeing the storyboard trainee program final presentations. GREAT. 9. Another production coworker of mine comments on how its important for them to go in case they see anyone they’d like to hire as a revisionist. I fianlly hit FUCKIT and say “IM GOING HOME.” And so I go to walk to the elevators. 10. I chose the wrong time to walk to the elevators because everyone in that meeting is waiting at the elevators to go look at the storyboard trainee presentations and scope out the new talent. They’re in too much of a busy mind to notice that I’m about to cry and am probably glaring with white knuckles as I clutch my bag. Luckily for me the elevator is full and I have an excuse to take the next one and not theirs. A part of me wished that they would say “come on in! i’m sure you can fit!” But... stuff like that never happens with them. No one goes out of their way to include me in things. So... whatever. Maybe I’m just being negative trying to find the bad in every little thing, but this is a rant so I’m going to do just that because fuck the consequences of people liking me and thinking I know how to adult properly. 11. I’m driving home and get a message from my coworker (glanced at a long red dont arrest me pls wait till tomorrow) saying that the intern asked if I had sent her intern evaluation to her school yet. I did. A few weeks ago. This isn’t really a bad thing it’s just that I was finally fucking free and just about to not have any reason to keep it together but then BAM. Intern shows up in my life again. Right after I though it was all over. A little god damn poke. Now So I managed to drive home without crashing into buildings or furiously honking and I am now just holding my cat and typing this. I’m pretty sure none of my coworkers will ever see this. A part of me wishes they would and that maybe they’d care, because I really don’t want to have to start a conversation specifically about all of this with them. Who the hell starts a conversation with: “By the way boss, can you please stop discussing giving the intern freelance work when I’m within earshot let alone in my god damn 6′x8′ cube?” “Hey boss, remember when I asked you for feedback and got none? Why does the intern get your full attention when you are even busier?” “Hey boss, why have you hired 4 more revisionists when you said that’d you’d love to have me as one? Did you forget? Were you just lying to me because you didn’t know how to give me feedback? Did you even care about what you say to me?” “Hey intern, I understand you are excited and this is a great opportunity for you, but can you please read the room at least a little because I want to cry every single time?” “Hey everyone, I want to be a board artist remember? REMEMBER?” ”Hey everyone... I’m an artist too.” “Hey everyone, can anyone just give me a little help?” ”Hey everyone, if I keep my purse stocked with your allergy medications, pain killers, band aids, digestive relief, girly goods and keep good snacks around and remember your schedules and try to make your jobs easier and serve as your primary IT person...will you remember that I’m here?” “Hey everyone, do you all dislike me or do you all just not care enough to notice me?” They’re all good people, but it’s not stuff that I really know how to say just out of the blue. So today... I just couldn’t stand being even in my own cube anymore. I’m not an outgoing entrepreneurial person who bugs people everyday trying to sell themselves as an artist. I’m someone who tells you my intentions, and asks for help, and then believes people when they tell me sorry they’re busy, that they wish they could help, that they’d love to have me if only not for “x”. No one is entitled to give me a job or help me. But... I don’t get why I’m the only one who gets nothing for a response when I do ask. If they were busy, that’d be fine. But since then things have gotten busier, and my boss personally worked through multiple iterations of my intern’s practice board with her. A good piece of advice I got was that your first 5 tests are awful...but I can’t even get anyone to give me my first one. I’m told to work hard and “git gud”. But it feels like I’m just bashing my head against a brick wall, and no one even acknowledges the effort. It feels like if I decide to stop doing that because I’m about to have a breakdown, I’ll be looked down on as a quitter and not passionate enough. I have passion, but all of this is 100% killing it, and I don’t want to hate art. I really don’t. But I’m starting to. It’s hard for me to enjoy it when now it’s only done to seek attention and approval that I’ll never get from these people. Today would have been difficult still, but not unbearable if not for that. My grandfather’s death isn’t a tragedy for me. He was in pain for a long time and he definitely made the most of his life. The tragedy is that despite all of this, my aunt decided that my family didn’t deserve to know that our grandfather, my father’s father (who lives literally 5 minutes away by car), had passed. I’m definitely not looking forward to the memorial service for my grandfather. Not because the death is hard to deal with but because all of the family there is. Would love to make life terrible for my aunt. Would love to be just as petty. I have so many colorful things to say and do. But ultimately none of that matters. It’s just death. Nothing changes it or adds a new flavor to it. So all of that anger and hurt just kinda snowballed today. And to top it all off as I’m typing this some asshole is beating a dog somewhere in the neighborhood and the dog is screaming and yelping. (called the police so hopefully they find them) Thanks for reading this long negative rant. I hope it helps anyone who is feeling similarly frustrated, because I dont have someone around who’s breaking down quite like I am so this is all I have. Shooting it into the internet in a passive aggressive attempt and chance that maybe someone who needs to read it will. Positive news: I watered my plants with the extra time. I hugged my cat. I will be returning with art for Mermay.

#bad day #rant

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wistfulcynic · 6 years ago

Text

Another Brick In The Wall, Chapter 4

Notes: Not trying to be a tease, but I'm afraid that Killian is going to keep his secret for a few more chapters at least. But! There have already been quite a few hints about what it might be, and this chapter is chock full of them. Let the speculation begin!

New, serious-this-time-summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with.

Rating: T+

Read it on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Killian sat on the sofa in Dr Hopper’s office, staring at his hands. The psychiatrist waited as patiently as he could. It was taking longer than he’d expected to establish trust with this boy. Killian was remarkably guarded with his true self and by far the most intelligent person Dr Hopper had ever counselled; he was able to anticipate most of the doctor’s questions and to evade them with a smirk and a clever twist of wordplay. It was tempting to write him off as a garden-variety cocky smartass, but Dr Hopper could sense the pain beneath the smirk and knew from his discussions with Liam what Killian was likely suffering. He wanted to help the boy, but Killian was not making that easy.

Today, for the first time, something was different. Killian’s emotions were much closer to the surface, almost visibly bubbling beneath his skin. Something was clearly troubling him, something new and recent. So Dr Hopper waited, carefully not pushing.

“I kissed Emma,” said Killian suddenly, the confession almost bursting from him.

Dr Hopper concealed his astonishment with effort. “Emma Swan?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral. There was only one Emma in Storybrooke, so it must be her, but she and Killian seemed an unlikey pair.

“Yeah,” said Killian, still addressing his hands. “You remember before, I told you there was a girl… the one friend I had at school.” He looked up, and Dr Hopper nodded encouragingly. “Well, that’s her.”

“And you kissed her?”

“Yeah. I mean, she kissed me first, but I definitely kissed her back.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Killian hesitated for a long moment. “I don’t know!” he finally burst out, his face twisting in distress. “I’ve been thinking about it pretty much nonstop since it happened, and still don’t know what to do. I mean, I really like her, and she’s made it clear she likes me, but… she’s just so… she’s so…” He groped for the words, and again Dr Hopper waited. “She’s so beautiful,” he said finally, his voice dropping so low it was nearly inaudible. “And kind and funny and smart and just— just perfect. I can’t— I can’t drag her down to my level.”

“And why do you feel you are so far beneath her?”

Killian gave him a sardonic smirk. “You’ve talked to my brother,” he said. “You know what I did. How could I touch Emma after that? How could I even think it?” He held himself stiffly as he spoke, as if waiting for judgement, for condemnation. Dr Hopper offered neither.

“So I’m hearing you say that you think what you did was bad?”

Alarm flickered across Killian’s face, followed by pain and shame and finally determination as he closed himself off again, locking away his emotions. Leaning back on the sofa, he propped a foot on the coffee table in front of it and shrugged one shoulder, the cocky smirk back in place. “It ended badly,” he said carelessly. “But I’ll fix that when I get back to England.”

Dr Hopper swallowed his frustration, reminding himself that today had been a breakthrough, albeit a short-lived one. “And what about Emma?” he prodded, hoping the risk would bear fruit.

It did. Killian’s cocky composure slipped away and for the first time in their acquaintance Dr Hopper thought he actually looked like what he was: a sensitive, troubled sixteen year old boy, lost and hurting and too young for what he was dealing with.

Killian looked down at his hands again. “I guess I’ll just ghost her,” he said, sounding like he hated the words even as he spoke them. “It won’t be easy since we have classes together and fencing club, but it’s the best way.”

“But if she likes you as you said, won’t that hurt her feelings?”

Killian swallowed hard, looking as though he wanted to cry. “Better to hurt her now than later,” he said hoarsely. “She’ll get over it.”

Dr Hopper leaned forward, squaring his shoulders so he was facing Killian directly. Almost against his will, the boy looked up. Dr Hopper smiled kindly, holding his gaze. “Killian, I know that you don’t like taking advice, but I’m going to offer you some anyway and I hope you at least consider it. From what you’ve said it sounds like Emma truly cares for you, and that is something you need in your life. You’re right that she’s a kind person, I’m sure if you tell her you just want to be friends, she’ll understand. You don’t have to tell her everything, just that you don’t want your relationship to be romantic. But don’t cut her out of your life. That will accomplish nothing except to hurt both of you.”

Killian nodded, and smiled a real smile for the first time. “I’ll think about that,” he said. “Thanks, Dr Hopper.”

Dr Hopper resisted the somewhat uncharacteristic urge to cheer. “You’re welcome, Killian,” he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several minutes later, Killian left Dr Hopper’s office and headed for Granny’s, so deep in thought that he entirely failed to notice Neal, who had darted behind a bush when he’d emerged through the door, smiling gleefully as he absorbed the juicy bit of information that Emma’s new friend was seeing the shrink. Resentment bordering on hatred simmered in Neal’s gut as he watched the taller boy cross the street and enter the diner. He owed Killian big time for getting him in trouble for drinking, getting him fucking suspended from the football team, he thought. The smug little shit needed to pay for that, and now Neal had an idea of how to exact his vengeance. There had to be a good reason why Killian was seeing Dr Hopper, all Neal had to do was find out what it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian found Emma exactly where he knew she’d be: sitting in a booth at Granny’s with her cheerleader friends, sharing some onion rings. They always came here after their practice; more than once Emma had invited him to come along, but he’d declined. She saw him immediately when he entered, her face lighting up with a relieved smile that doubled the weight of guilt in his chest. She should be furious with him for the way he’d acted, instead she looked thrilled to see him. Seriously, what was he supposed to do with a girl like that?

He marched determinedly over to her, ignoring the speculative looks her friends were giving him. “Can we talk, Swan?” he asked.

She nodded, already sliding out of the booth, smiling, standing far too close. “Should we go upstairs?” she said, in a voice that only he could hear, and he felt a stab of alarm before he noticed the mischief dancing in her eyes.

“You’re teasing me,” he said. “I suppose that’s a good sign. Let’s go sit outside.”

Emma grabbed her coat and followed him to a table just inside the fence that surrounded Granny’s outdoor seating area. She was intensely relieved to see him. He hadn’t been at fencing club the day before or at school that day, and she’d been so worried she’d nearly ditched school herself and gone to find him.

He took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology,” he said.

“Killian—”

“No, I do. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

For a few short, precious minutes after he’d begun to kiss her back on Saturday night everything in Emma’s world had been perfect. His lips on hers had been soft and hot, his tongue in her mouth a revelation. Emma had never been kissed like that before, like the kiss was being done with her and not to her. With Neal it had always been like grappling with a determined octopus, but with Killian it was almost a dance. He took the lead, guiding but never pushing her, giving even more than he took, one hand resting at the small of her back and the other in her hair as their lips clung and their tongues stroked, making her head spin and her entire body tingle. Then abruptly he had pushed her away, or rather pulled himself away, Emma had realised after replaying the whole thing in her head half a dozen times. He had pulled himself away, breathing hard, his hands shaking and his eyes wide and almost terrified.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, his tone begging for understanding, but understanding of what she’d had no clue. She had kissed him, so why should he apologise? But he had leapt back when she’d tried to touch his arm and fled from the room, disappearing completely until five minutes ago when he’d strolled into Granny’s looking nervous but determined.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Emma, I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you, because I do, far more than I should, but I can’t date you.”

“What makes you think I want you to?” asked Emma, reacting to the stab of hurt she felt before she could think.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I did kind of assume from the way you laid one on me Saturday night that you wanted to be more than friends. Was I mistaken?”

She shrugged, torn between wanting him to know how she felt and wanting to protect herself from what she was certain would be rejection. “Maybe I do,” she replied in a small voice. “Do you not?”

Killian heard the hurt in her voice and it twisted in his gut, shaking him into admitting more than he’d planned. “I do want it, I’d be an idiot not to, I just— I can’t.” He clenched his fists in frustration, desperate for her to understand but unable to explain without telling her things that would make her hate him. “I wish things were different, Emma, I really do, but they’re not and I can’t change them, and please, I want to be friends but I can’t give you more than that. I’m sorry.”

She was silent for so long he began to panic, then she nodded. “I won’t say I understand because I don’t, but I appreciate you coming here and telling me the truth,” she said. “And while we’re being honest, I should tell you that I know you’re hiding something, something big and scary that’s eating away at you.” He started to reply, but she cut him off. “I’m not going to try to force you to talk about it,” she assured him, “but if you ever do want to talk, Killian, whatever it is, I’ll listen. And of course we can be friends, if that’s what you need.” Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand over his fist, relief rushing through her when he gripped it hard. “I’m always here for you,” she said softly. “No matter what.”

His eyes were brimming with emotions, so many that she couldn’t make out what they were. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. “Why do you bother with me?”

“I—” she began, then cut herself off. Some confessions were not for Granny’s outside tables. “I guess I just like you,” she said with a small smile.

He returned it. “I doubt I’ll ever understand why,” he said wryly. “But I’m not going to turn down such a gift.” He squeezed her hand once more before withdrawing his. “I should go, I was supposed to be home half an hour ago, Liam will be worrying. See you in school tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma went home herself after Killian left, no longer in the mood to laugh with her friends. Although she was glad they’d cleared the air between them, there was still a heavy lump of disappointment and hurt in her chest, one she didn’t have any idea how to deal with.

“Something wrong, Duckling?” asked her father, coming into the living room to find her sprawled on the sofa staring at the ceiling.

“No,” she replied automatically, and David looked at her sharply.

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “You know you can always talk to me if there is.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, then sat up. “It’s Killian.”

“What about him?” asked David cautiously. His daughter’s crush on Killian had been painfully obvious for weeks now, and while David generally approved —certainly a smart, thoughtful boy like Killian was vastly preferable to that little shit Neal Cassidy— if Killian did anything to hurt his baby girl David would make certain he lived to regret it.

“I kissed him,” said Emma.

David’s brows snapped together in a scowl, and he had to forcibly remind himself that Emma was eighteen now, she was going to kiss boys. He knew she’d at least kissed Neal, if not more, though he didn’t like to think about that. “Did you,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

She nodded. “I kissed him and he kissed me back, and oh, Daddy, it was just wonderful. But then he got upset and left, and now he says he just wants to be friends.” She took a deep, unsteady breath as tears formed in her eyes. “He’s got something he’s hiding, something that’s hurting him, and it hurts me to see it. It’s holding him back somehow, eating him up and I— I just— I can’t stand to see it. I think I might love him. Oh, God, that sounds crazy doesn’t it?”

“No, of course not, sweetie,” said David, moving over to sit next to her and pulling her into a hug. He remembered the overwhelming power of teenage puppy love all too well; he and Mary Margaret had been even younger than Emma when it had hit them.

Emma sobbed into her father’s shoulder, wishing she could crawl into his lap as she had done as a little girl. “I know it’s silly to be so upset just because he doesn’t feel the same,” she said. “But it just hurts.”

David frowned. He was pretty sure that Killian did feel the same; he had seen the way they interacted at fencing club, the way they looked at each other, and he’d seen the look they’d exchanged before Killian emptied his pockets at the party. If Emma had made her interest plain and Killian had turned her down there must be a serious reason for that. Teenage boys simply didn’t say no when pretty girls asked them out. Particularly not pretty girls they were clearly crazy about.

David thought hard. He’d had a few conversations with Liam Jones and had found him a pleasant young man, but his deliberate vagueness on the subject of what had brought him to Storybrooke now took on a somewhat sinister aspect. It might not hurt to do a bit of digging, David thought. He liked Killian and was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, but if there was something he was hiding that could hurt Emma, David wanted to know what it was.

More Notes: It's a bit short, this chapter, and only lightly edited, but it's needed to set up the stuff that's coming...

#teenage cs #high school au #cs #cs ff au #another brick in the wall #profdanglaisstuff #tagging no one #tell me if you want a tag

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ccwandco · 6 years ago

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Person of Interest: Panda

I was just looking through our old text conversations from a year and a half ago. Boy, were we ridiculous. Typing in all caps, all the time, using weird emojis. I can hardly believe I used to type like that. Then again, I never type to you anymore, except the jumbled apologies I tend to spew out at 3 AM when I’m crying over old times.

Like the day we met up for the first time.

“We’ll be in each others’ lives forever!”

Oh, to be in the summer of 2017 again. To be in my sophomore year of high school. To be before my awful job that constantly drains my energy, day in and day out. Before the pain of relationships gone wrong. Before depression set back in and I started doing that thing where I cut everyone out of my life in a manic episode.

Before anybody else came into the equation, it was me and you, Panda. I was a lonely girl about to go back to my former ways until you showed up. I was drifting apart from my other best friend, mostly due to her parents’ divorce. I’m glad I took a chance and tried to make new friends instead of wallowing in my sorrow of being alone.

Every conversation we had was so smooth, so unforced, so entertaining. I never needed to put on a facade for you. Even when I doubted myself, or doubted your love for me, you’d come in full force with a long paragraph to convince me otherwise. We handled rumors, crazy girlfriends, annoying preteens, and even suicide. I exposed myself to my mother for you. I don’t regret any of it, even if some of the people you dated made me incredibly stressed.

I no longer feel any resentment toward you, more so the way things turned out. I should’ve never blamed you in the first place. You’ve done nothing wrong, but with my angry past and Panther’s constant shit-talking, I had to find a villain for the pain I was feeling. It is what it is. Though I do wish I hadn’t let somebody else get in the way of us.

It’s true that I’ve known Panther longer, but he could never fill the space you’ve left. You were the shining light 15 year old Celia so desperately needed. Our list of inside jokes still continues to make me laugh. I have memory after memory of the nights we spent watching low budget movies about people getting trapped in buildings, sending unfunny memes that still managed to make both of us crack up, or discussing our plans for the future. We wanted to live together. Even when things between you and Panther began to get serious, you still wanted me there. I’m not so sure he did.

I’ve sent you apology after apology, even though I know it isn't necessary. You aren’t frustrated with me, you blame yourself. I know that you shouldn’t, but I also know that there’s nothing between us to fix. We don’t have any problems, but we can’t go back to being the best friends we once were. I sometimes wonder if you’re too far gone in your despondency to give an effort. It certainly seems that way these days, but I suppose I’m not much better.

Or maybe we just grew apart, as people often do. My music taste no longer aligns with yours, after all. But what does that really have to do with our friendship? Can’t we just talk about how awful the current Gorillaz is and call it a day? Praise Marina? Curse Titanic?

When I saw you last summer, it felt the same as it always has. We went to a record store, got ice cream, and I got stuck on the train while you managed to make your way off. I remember you crying after I finally came back. You were so worried about me. When it was time for me to go back to the Airbnb with my parents, we embraced for at least seven minutes. I counted. I didn’t want to let you go. I didn’t want to forget about the Salvation Army, the cheesy movie about Bigfoot, your dog coughing up underwear, the hot weather, watermelon Twizzlers, North Carolina, everything. Maybe I knew it was the last time I would see you. Maybe I wasn’t ready to become my own person yet.

I still have hope that I’m going to see you again someday, that we will laugh and be ourselves again. We’ll forget about Panther, and we’ll forget about everything we said and did as dumb teenagers. I don’t care if he hates your new boyfriend. If somebody makes you happy, I’m all for them.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future, but all I can say is that I hope to GOD we’re still best friends, because I genuinely couldn’t imagine my life without you for even a second. I hope we can live together and just constantly like blast music throughout our home until our neighbors yell at us. You mean the universe to me and I love you so fucking much. I just can’t explain it. Whenever you feel sad, I want you to read this and remember that I love you so much and I wouldn’t trade you for the universe. I know this might not seem like too much because I’m just one sad teenage girl, but gosh, I just can’t express how much you mean to me! I could go on about you for days. I’m running out of space so I gotta go, but I love you so much.”

I don't know if I ever told you, but you left your star-shaped choker here at my house on that first day. I decided to keep it as a sort of...souvenir. And memory of the best day of my life so far. A couple months ago, I gave it away as a gift for Rabbit. She loved it. I knew she would. It was a rather impulsive decision, and I immediately felt a pang in my stomach as Tapir helped tie it around her neck, but I couldn’t just ask for it back. I haven’t seen her wear it since. If I do see her wearing it, I think I might trip and profusely apologize to you again.

I still have your letter, though. I’ll be bringing it with me when I leave in August.

Why do we have to expect so much from the beginning?

#person of interest #panda

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xgiigiix · 7 years ago

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Daylight (levihan one shot)

I was totally inspired by this song, it’s pretty cool so go check it out.

*Here’s a summary: Having been in tension with each other for a month after the mission in Shinganshina, Levi and Hanji have a deep conversation in Hanji’s room. Hope you enjoy it!

PD: please forgive my gramatical incompetence, english isn’t my native language.

Hearing the soft drops grow slowly harder outside, Hanji was sitting on her desk trying to go through some paperwork that her new position as commander demanded her to resolve. While reading, she played nervously with her hair in an intent to concentrate, but her mind wouldn’t ease. Since it was late at night everyone had gone to sleep, so there was complete silence. Still she couldn’t focus. Her memories dragged her back to that moment. Over and over, she could see that scene go through her head and all that’d happened next. Although, what kept her mind far away the most wasn’t the fight, the gruesome scenario she’d seen or the death of her friends. Even if that was a burden heavy enough to carry, she felt bretrayed. And that was the worst part. She knew that it wasn’t right to feel that way, that it was unfair, but she couldn’t help it. Levi and her’d always had each other’s back. They’d never disagreed, well at least not in such important matters. It wasn’t like Hanji would never be able to forgive him… or would she? No, what was she thinking? Of course she would, she just wasn’t ready. But most importantly, would she ever trust him blindly and with her whole heart like she’d always done? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the hall.

Levi stood in front of Hanji’s door wondering if he’d have the courage enough to knock. He needed to, the past month he was haunted by a terrible insomnia. And when he could get just a tiny bit of sleep, horrible nightmares woke him up. In his dreams he’d see Hanji die in front of him knowing she still held resentment towards him, her last words being ‘Why him?’. Again and again. Those were, by far, the worst nightmares he’d experienced in his whole life. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t think about anything else. So speaking with her was not only something that he wanted, but also something he had to do in order to get back his normal life. With that thought in mind, he could finally get himself to knock.

Hanji went up to the door and opened it. When she did, she saw a pale sleep deprived Levi with bags under his eyes. She shivered at the sight.

-Levi- she said sadly- what is it? You should be sleeping.

He stared intensely at her eyes.

-I… i just… shit- frustrated, Levi groaned. He knew what to say. He’d planed it, still he couldn’t bring it out.

Hanji made a gesture inviting him in. She knew him too well. Maybe even more than herself. And she knew what he was there for. He entered the room without saying a single word and sat on her bed. She just closed the door and leaned against it. None of them dared to look in the other’s direction.

-What do you ne…

-You know- Levi interrupted her words. The tone in his voice came out much harsher than he intended to.- I’m sorry- He nervously apologised feeling like an asshole.

She looked at him. He was hunched over staring at the floor with his fingers crossed, hands resting on his lap. Just by seeing him like that, she could tell how anxious he was and she could also figure out the internal fight that was taking place in his mind.

-It’s okay- She said. She knew he didn’t mean to be so rough.

-I don’t know where to start- Levi admitted feeling helpless. Even having rehearsed pretty words to apologise to her and tell her what she meant to him, now all he could say was ‘i don’t know where to start’ like he had some damm scenic panic. He felt like an idiot.

-You don’t need to- She affirmed becouse, honestly she didn’t know where to start neither.

-No- he quickly denied- I’m staying here until everything is back to what it was… between us. Even if i have to stay all night.

Hanji felt her cheeks heat up, and a rush of fear went through her body. This was a point of no return. Either everything got solved that night, or it ruined. She sighed, then walked towards her bed to sit next to Levi. He straightened his back and lifted his head to stare at her eyes.

-I’m sorry- that was the first thing he needed to say to her. The way she’d looked at him after making that decision torn him apart. And the pain in her eyes was the bitterest poison he’d ever tasted. So apologizing was the most important step- I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.

Hanji could see the desperation in his eyes and felt like a jerk. She’d treat him so cold and distant after Erwin’s death, like if it was his fault. Well it technically was, but at the same time he was just a person with two lifes on his hands. She thought she would have known what to do in that situation but, would she? Still she was hurt and found it really difficult to see him without thinking of that moment, and also feeling, again, betrayed. She tried to speak avoiding his eyes.

-Why… why him?- she finally asked.

He felt a cramp in his stomach sharp and painful as a stab. Those exact same words were the ones Hanji repeated in his dreams. And now he had to answer them. That was something he’d been asking himself too. He knew why, of course he did. But it was painfully difficult to make things clear in his head. After all, there wasn’t only one reason.

-I… i did it for him. So he could finally rest. I said that already.

-Yes but that can’t be the only reason.

-Isn’t that enough of a reason? He was so consumed that he’d lost himself. I didn’t want him to suffer anymore, i saw a chance for him to finally be free. And i… i just…

By Hanji’s expression he could tell that she wasn’t fooled by his words, he wasn’t lying but he was clearly trying to avoid digging further on that subject. He sighed and rubbed his face while trying to gather his thoughts and think deeply about his actions, and what’d led him to them. A memory came to him as he stared at the wall.

-I heard them talking once…- He mumbled almost to himself.

-What?- she questioned confused.

-Armin, Eren and Mikasa. They were talking about the ocean. A supposed huge mass of salt water- he interrupted himself remembering the moment- They were promising shit, you know. That they’d see it together and they sounded so… hopeful.- the corner of his lips curved a bit in a half smile- I wasn’t strong enough to take that away from them.

She glanced at him with curiosity.

-You are really attached to those kids- she couldn’t help but smile a little too. She knew he wouln’d admit it but he had grown affection to them, which was truly adorable.

-I know you’re too- he replied.- even if now you’re hurt and see them as “guilty”. You still care about them.

-I’m…. i’m not good for them. I treated everyone with resentment when they didn’t deserve it. They need you.- she lamented.

-They need you too- he reassured her.

Hanji lifted her sight and met Levi’s eyes. He timidly placed a hand over her’s and sighed. She opened her eyes wide but didn’t move.

-I can’t be their mother. I’m too broken.

-I am too. They are, we all are.- he said.- But they need us. Not just me. We are all they have left… and we are in this together.

-I can’t even live like a normal human being without thinking of the events in Shinganshina. I see Erwin everywhere. I see Moblit everywhere. And i can’t even trust you!- she suddenly covered her mouth with her hands. She’d said too much.- Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.- She apologised closing her eyes in embarrassment.

Levi took a deep breath looking at his hand that was still placed over Hanji’s. What she said was difficult to hear. It was painful, the fact that she didn’t trust him anymore felt like an arrow piercing right through his stomach. But he’d do anything to win her back. He noticed a bottle of whiskey resting on the desk, one that was half full. In nights where things gathered up in his head and he needed to let them out, Levi knew that the door in front of his would always have light coming out from it’s keyhole. He’d stay until late hours just speaking with Hanji while drinking together.

Before that choice, she would always stay by his side. But now he didn’t know if that could ever be true again. He hadn’t realised until then how much her presence meant to him. With only a month in absence of her annoying rambling and infectious smile his life had turned gray. Though he couldn’t rush things, being on the edge to lose her forever.

-There’s nothing wrong with you. I understand why you hate me.- he admitted trying to gather his thoughts.- But believe me Hanji, i’d never… do anything to harm you.- even that pity sentence was incredibly difficult for Levi to say. The truth was that he wasn’t good with words. The tender speech that he’d prepared before coming to talk to her was way better than anything he could come up with spontaneously. But he realised he would have never been able to say it out loud, becouse when it came to feelings, and specially that kind of feelings, he’d fail horribly at trying to express them.

Hanji sighed while taking her glasses off. She placed her free hand over her good eye.

-Levi i don’t hate you.- she turned her head to meet his gaze- I just…- words suddenly escaped from her. She didn’t know exactly how to feel. She realized that she’d been craving for his presence until he appeared in her room that night. But she still had that weird sensation.

A moment of silence took place while the two of them tried to find the courage to keep speaking.

-You know- Levi said.- until you showed up in that damn roof I was completely convinced that I’d give the injection to… to Erwin- the name was still difficult to pronounce. And he didn’t feel like he had the right to say it out loud.- I think I really scared the kids. I still can’t believe I hit Eren for God’s sake.

Hanji stared at him intensely as if she was trying to decipher him. What was the thing that still bothered her?

-Mikasa told me you were out of your mind. That you were almost delusional… Like if you had gone insane.- she started to talk trying to be as careful as possible with her choice of words- On the other hand, you were under a lot of pressure and probably really scared so I can understand your actions. But… why did you change your mind on the last minute?

-Maybe- he articulated even though it was clear for him that it wasn’t a “maybe”, it was an actual fact.- I was scared becouse I thought I lost you… I know it’s stupid but I couldn’t handle the possibility of being the only one who made it.- he felt pressure on his chest just by remembering those moments of horror. When Hanji’s state was unknown and he was alone with a friend on the verge of death, a dying kid and his desperate friends trying to stop him from saving probably the only close person he had left. Everything was a mess in his head at that moment, no wonder he acted like a lunatic.- seeing you, knowing that you were alive was… I just… Even in that terrible situation I felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Hanji froze. Levi’s words deeply moved her as much as they terrified her. The feeling was incredibly relieving yet scary, and she couldn’t understand why or what was it.

Levi, on the other hand, couldn’t give credit to what he just said. It just came out so naturally, becouse that’s what he felt, but he knew that the weight of his words was heavy. Why was she so vital for him?

-I mean…- Levi quickly tried to come up with something to fix what he’d just said, but nothing good enough came to his mind. He looked at Hanji, her eyes where expectant. He couldn’t keep lying to her, it was time to be honest.- everything was surreal, going in slow motion. I wasn’t really concious at that moment, I remember little to nothing. But when you showed up, everything made sense again. I could realize about Erwin’s state and what was best for him once I could think things through. It’s like your presence dragged me back to reality- he had said too much. Way too much. But at this point, the only think he could do was to keep going and hope for the best.- becouse of you I was able to be rational. Before, I thought humanity had no chance of victory without Erwin being our leader and inspiration. And I felt controlled by the fear of being alone. But when I saw you… When I heard you talk I just realized that It’d be selfish to bring him back to this hell after everything he’d done, and humanity would be fine even after he was gone… if we had you.

Levi’s words had deeply impacted Hanji this time. Tears started coming out of her eyes as she felt the last bit of resent she had left drain out. He took off his cravat and gently caressed her cheeks to wipe her tears.

-Levi i… i have no words- she mumbled while he kept sweeping her face.- I’m sorry.- she apologized, then let out a deep breath.- You had to go through this all alone… Being disappointed of you was so selfish and i… i- Hanji couldn’t stop sobbing. Hearing him speak, the pain is his voice, and his loving words despite her being so cold and distant for such a long time destroyed her completely.

-It’s okay- He pulled her arm to draw her near and embraced her tightly.

Hanji paralyzed for a second before hugging him back apprehensively. It’s not like she didn’t want to do it, but she was shocked. Her surprise was even bigger when she realized how much she’d been needing that. She felt for the first time in a long time… Safe.

Levi hugged her even tighter feeling warm, and relieved. Fear threatened his peace, a fear of losing her, the best thing that’d ever happened to him. He knew he had to end the hug at some point, but he didn’t want to let go of her ever. He lifted a hand to reach her head, slowly caressing her hair.

-How did we get to this point?- he complained absolutely drained out.

-Hey, it’s as Erwin used to say. Never regret a choice.- Hanji wanted with all of her might to cheer him up, but she was at her limit too.- didn’t he?- she smirked remembering him speaking, all motivated and determined. Determination was something that was always present in Erwin’s persona, and he never let anything get to him. Hanji’d always admired his strength and courage.

Levi let out a sigh.

-At last, it’s impossible be completely unremorseful. Even if I know it was for the best… It’s incredibly difficult to deal with the consequences.- still clinged to her, he thought of the complicated month he’d gone through. People looking down to him, the little survey corps that remained stopping their conversations when he passed by them, all the higher ups shaming his “poor judgement”, claiming it to be crazy letting die the man who’s plan had brought freedom to their word, Erwin’s presence haunting him in every step he took. But that wasn’t even the worst part, the worst part was Hanji looking away every time their gaze met, or her answering with a monosyllable every time he made a question, or seeing her tired and down all the time unlike her normal self, like if her inside inside glow had faded. And he had to live knowing all of that was his fault.

-I’m sorry- Hanji apologized again.- I sure didn’t make it better… I could’ve helped you.

Levi separated from her to look straight into her eyes.

-Stop apologizing, I can understand why you acted like you did… I just… The hardest part wasn’t people’s disappointment, it was your disappointment. I mean, it’d have obviously been easier if you were by my side but…- he stopped his speech for a moment to test her reaction. He was getting too ahead of himself, and being so damn confused didn’t help at all.- what I want to say is…

-I understand, you don’t need to keep going. You’re getting all mixed up.- she smiled tenderly, seeing him akwardly trying to express what he felt was really cute.- You shouldn’t try to excuse my pity behavior, the fact that i was hurt doesn’t make it right. I acted like a child.

Levi cupped her hands in is and stared at her trying to capture all of her attention.

-Hanji can you allow yourself to be a little selfish for once? You always just end up feeling guilty. This time it was me, I made something that hurt you. You don’t do that to someone you love…- he stopped himself abruptly

Oh no. Now he’d messed up for real. Levi looked away ashamed. Those words had slipped through his mouth, he meant it but it was way too straight forward.

Hanji’s jaw dropped to the ground. He said he… loved her?

-You… Love me?- she tried to articulate in disbelief.

-Shit. Damn… I-me-i… I- he stuttered pathetically.

Levi growled and met her gaze once again.

-Fuck it. Yhea I love you. So what?- he tried to sound as confident as possible, but it came out more like a thug intimidating someone.

-So what!? Levi are you confessing to me or looking for a fight?- Hanji was so confused that she didn’t even know what was going on anymore.

He realized about his lack of touch and misplaced voice tone, feeling humiliated.

-Fuck, sorry. I’m sorry i… I love you.- he confessed now in a rather sweet tone.

She just stared at him for a few minutes on the verge of collapse.

-So… Aren’t you going to say anything?- Levi asked fearful of her rejection.

-I…- she wanted to say it so bad, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.- You-me… I just…

Levi grabbed his head and groaned completely desperate.

-I fucked up everything. Just forget about everything I said. I’m sorry… Shit I’m sorry.

Hanji recovered from her confusion and turned her body to face Levi, taking him by his wrists. She pulled his hands away from his face and forced him to stare at her.

-Levi I’m sorry, calm down.- she quickly said as he slowly went back to his previous position and looked at her expectant.- I love you too dumbass.

They stared at each other not knowing what to do. This wasn’t supposed to happen, they were just trying to fix their relationship not turning it to something else. On top of that, the whole situation was just a complete disaster.

-This is a mess.- Hanji could finally say letting go of his wrists.

Levi got closer to her face and gently rested his forehead on her’s, closing his eyes.

-We’re a mess.- he answered.

She giggled becouse at this point, the situation was simply ridiculous.

-What do we do now?

-Well, I think i’m supposed to kiss you.- He responded looking straight into her eyes.

Hanji’s face turned red and she started laughing nervously, her body was slightly shaking.

-I-i don’t know if i’m ready. And i don’t really know how to… Don’t you prefer to discuss about my titan experiments? I can tell you about this time when…- Levi’s lips stoped her rambling, taking her by surprise.

-Shut up.- He silenced her half-smiling.

Her face went from red to burgundy , and her eyes opened widely.

-S-sorry- she mumbled in an almost inaudible tone. Then timidly smiled.

He shortened the space between them and cupped her cheek, kissing her again. Her eyes were still opened, but she slowly closed them and kissed him back.

They gradually grew apart.

-It’s going to be fine.- Levi affirmed, still caressing Hanji’s cheek- It has to be. For him.

Hanji smiled.

-And for the kids.- he added.

-And what about… us?- she questioned.

-We’ll figure it out.- He responded smiling.

She turned her gaze to the window, noticing some weak sun rays going through it. It was dawn already.

-Look. The sun is coming out already.- Hanji pointed out as she got up from the bed to get close to the window.

Levi followed her, and hug her from the back resting his chin on her shoulder.

-I’m glad we solved things shitty glases.- he whispered in her ear.

Hanji smirked.

-Me too. I love you clean freak.

-I love you too idiot.

#levihan #rivahan #levi x hanji #levi x hange #hanji x levi #hange x levi #levihan fanfiction #snk #snk fanfiction #snk ships #aot #aot fanfiction #aot ships

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