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lostfracturess · 8 months ago

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symptoms and causes | ch. 11

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem.

I don't know how.

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now?

I knew this was right.

Right for her.

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him.

Sorry.

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense.

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered.

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care.

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied.

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.

This was my punishment.

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her.

How could I not?

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it?

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her.

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.

No, she didn't know I'd set it up.

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.

My blood roared in my ears.

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open.

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna.

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right.

In his twisted way, he was.

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course.

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel.

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair.

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five?

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak.

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many.

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.

I reached for the syringe and read the label.

Adrenaline.

Smart girl.

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror.

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it?

How much power this woman had over me.

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish.

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life.

Not until her.

Not until she changed me completely.

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her.

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.

Nothing.

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?

Because she does.

She deserves everything.

She is everything.

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized.

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything.

"Say something, Satoru."

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!"

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her. Gods, how I love her.

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was.

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Second-year lecture.

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.

But I knew it was wrong.

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence.

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open.

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares.

Another night of that shit.

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault.

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her.

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself.

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?

It was over.

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch.

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips.

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me.

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh?

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter?

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me.

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her.

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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i314flix · 3 months ago

Text

the one where jake seresin likes to call it ‘welfare checks’ whenever he’s checking how you are—but let’s be real, everyone knows that it’s only an excuse he uses because he can’t seem to erase the uneasiness he feels whenever he knows you’re not fine.

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

word count: 5.8k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers au; ft. naval aviator!reader

warning/s: swearing, alcohol consumption, making out, sexual innuendos, daddy issues(?), mentions of feeling pressured, mentions of drunk driving (nobody drunk drives here though), mention of a near death experience, most likely wrong info about naval aviators and the nature of their job sksks i'm sorry this is strictly fiction okAY

opening note. idk how this ended up being almost 6k LMAO. but anyways, i was so inspired to write this one scene (which you can read below) and ended up just adding so many details and back story that now here we are???? hope you guys like it though! jake seresin brain rot is real and i'm admittedly a goner for—as glen once put it—navy draco malfoy 😭

Jake knocks on your door three times, patiently waiting and looking around the street as if he’s afraid that someone followed him here. He knows that it’s unwise to be at your doorstep at this hour, but he was done eavesdropping and subtly asking around about your absence, bothered that it’s been almost a week and you haven’t been attending training like you should be. He heard Phoenix tell Bob that you were taking a short break because of the near-death experience you had while flying along the course last time, in fact almost quitting entirely if it weren’t for Maverick who instead offered you to breathe for a few days and then come back to see if you still wanted out of the mission. You were considered by your fellow TOPGUN graduates to be one of the captain’s top candidates to lead the mission, so Jake understood why Maverick didn’t let you off the hook that easily.

A few seconds pass and he contemplates on knocking again or leaving, deeming this idea as ridiculous—but then he sees the lights open and you’re peeking through the curtain of the small window beside your front door, disappearing again only to unlock the dozen locks on your door and opening it to greet Jake who meets your gaze immediately.

“What the hell are you doing here?” is the first thing you say, flummoxed by his presence. You and him aren’t exactly the closest among the crew, and there have been several times in which you’ve displayed how annoyed you were by everything Jake either says or does.

“I’m visiting you,” he answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t been in training for a week now. Are you quitting or something?”

You stare at him, appearing in deep thought or perhaps attempting to read his mind, and suddenly, you’re closing the door.

Jake widens his eyes in surprise but is quick to extend a hand out to prevent you from doing so.

“Really?” he complains. “You’re going to slam the door in my face?”

“Look, Hangman,” you begin, sighing and making your tired state known, “if you’re here to give me shit, don’t, because I have no will to show you the patience I typically have on a normal basis.”

“I’m not here to give you shit.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“I told you—I’m visiting.”

“For what? To make sure that I’m not going back so that Maverick can assign you as team leader?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay. I heard you’re doing fine, but I just wanted to see it for myself.”

You’re quiet again, and you revert back to staring at him, as if you’re waiting for him to admit that this is just some prank. Jake doesn’t say anything though, he just returns your stare, appearing sincere for once, worried and waiting for you to realize that he’s not aiming to piss you off every time an opportunity presents itself.

You open the door wider. “Now you see me.”

“You doing good?”

“I’m doing good,” you affirm. “Just… I don’t know. Going through some stuff. Mixed thoughts—feelings—I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m here and it’s past 11 p.m.,” he says. “If I didn’t want to be bothered, I would have done this welfare check another time.”

You snort at the term he used in visiting you. “Are you sure? You don’t peg me as a good listener, to be honest. I don’t want to pour my heart out and end up listening to your life story instead.”

“I’m not like that. I could be a good listener if I tolerate the person enough.”

“You hate me, though.”

He laughs. “I don’t hate you, Goldie.”

Goldie. Jake liked your call sign because he liked the way you scowled whenever he was the one who utters it. The story behind the name was that your very first squadron saw a picture of you wearing these ridiculous platform gold sneakers when they were snooping around your Facebook profile, finding a photograph taken years ago by your mother at some family gathering you no longer remember. Eventually the joke turned into them calling you Goldie, and when the callsign review board was held, every member of the squadron voted for it to be your call sign and got it approved.

“I find that hard to believe,” you say.

“I just like driving you insane,” he admits with a smirk, and now you’re more reminded of the Hangman you know. “It gives me great pleasure to get under your skin. You never know how to fake that look on your face whenever you’re mad—it’s very funny.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

The edges of your mouth twitch. “Fine, come in. I have beer. Or wine if that’s what you prefer.”

Jake contemplates about it—because like what he thought of earlier when he arrived on your porch, it’s unwise to be here. It wasn’t like in TOPGUN or the Hard Deck wherein there were other people around you for him to always be cautious of his actions; he’s afraid that he slips up or let his repressed romantic interest in you get the best of him since he has you alone.

At the same time however, he just didn’t care enough about the consequences for him to miss this chance of getting to know you better.

“Beer would be nice,” he tells you as he steps inside.

You nod and turn to head to the kitchen.

The house is a standard bungalow. When you walk in, you’re met with the living room, and then a few steps away from that is the kitchen. On the left side of the house, there’s a hallway leading to what Jake assumed to be the bedroom and washroom. He takes a seat on the sofa upon your instruction, scanning his surroundings and taking in the actuality of the situation he allowed himself to be in.

“Here you go.” You hand him an opened beer and he mutters his thanks, watching you go to the chair near him and plop down.

There’s silence, the two of you just drinking. You engage in small talk for a while, conversing about the most trivial things and matters that he’s not that even keen to know. The topic bounces on and on, until he can’t help but finally break it, impatient now and wanting to know what’s really been going on with you for the past few days.

You smile, amused by his little outburst. “You really want to talk about what’s bothering me?”

“I'm certainly not here to drink and talk about how hot it is on the beach.” He points out. “Just get on with it. You don’t have to tell me your whole life story. Just tell me why you’ve been gone since the accident.”

He catches you wince at the mention of an accident. “I’m resting.”

“You’re resting?”

“Yeah. It’s what Maverick wants me to do. He insists that I take a breather and then go back once I’m feeling better.”

“And have you been feeling better?”

“No,” you admit. “Actually, I…” you hesitate, flickering your eyes to Jake who’s listening intently. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re the last person I should be—”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I know. But that’s the thing, Hangman,” you say. “I think I have to tell someone about it or else I’ll end up more conflicted about the whole thing. And you know what? You might actually be the right person for this.”

“How come?”

“Because I don’t give a damn whether I have your approval or not.”

He scoffs out a laugh. “Wow. Thanks, I guess?”

You grin; you loved teasing him as much as he did the same to you. “I’m planning to quit.”

His hand halts as he’s raising it to get another sip of the beer. He didn’t expect you to drop the bomb that quickly. “What?”

“I want to quit.”

“Because of what? Because of a near death experience? I know your record, and this isn’t even the first time you experience an occurrence that involved—”

“It’s the third time,” you clarify before he’s even done speaking. “I promised myself I’d quit if I almost ended up dead three times.”

“That sounds ridiculous. You know that, right?”

“I never wanted to be a fighter pilot, Hangman.” You confess and he’s stunned by the revelation.

It seemed impossible and untrue. You graduated at the top of your class and you have the reputation of being one of the best in the field. Your leadership skills were top tier, your flying was superb, and you were fearless in the face of danger. He didn’t understand how a person who didn’t want this occupation to have all those qualities and be an overall amazing naval aviator.

“You’re lying,” he says, not knowing how to reply to that other than accusing you of being a liar.

You lean back on your chair, bringing your feet up and holding your knees together. “It’s because of my dad. It’s the typical shit you hear about a daughter wanting her dad’s approval. He’s just… he used to be a fighter pilot himself—and then he got into an accident, lost one of his legs after it happened, and got forced to retire.” You bring the rim of your beer bottle to your lips. “I think he was depressed for a while. He didn’t talk that much anymore and when he did, he was always so angry. Mom always encouraged him to talk to a therapist, just to release all the pent up frustration he must be feeling about what happened, but he refused. He didn’t believe in therapy. He was convinced that he could solve it all on his own.

“Anyway, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I thought if I could live the life he couldn’t continue and be a naval aviator myself, he’d feel better—or at least, he’ll be the father I used to have. Turns out I was right. Do you know how much he changed when I told him I sent an application to the Naval Academy? He was so pleased. He did a complete 360. Suddenly, it felt like I was his daughter again. It was clear to me then that if I wasn’t Goldie, I wasn’t anyone worth knowing.” You bite your lip, trying not to get emotional. Jake can see that, noticing how your lips are slightly quivering and how you’re avoiding eye contact. “But in a way, I still had some self-respect left. So that’s why I told myself that if I almost get myself killed in three different instances, I’d quit and I wouldn’t care about what Dad thinks. I’ll just go and live my life how I’d want to live it.”

“And last time was the third time.” He reiterates.

“Yep.”

He nods and downs the last gulps of beer.

There’s that silence again, but it’s not awkward. Jake is absorbing everything you just shared to him and you’re trying not to regret the fact that you told all of that to Jake. It’s a story you’re not used to disclosing to just anyone, especially not to someone like Jake who before this night was the reason why your temper was often brought to its highest limits. Yet you can’t deny that a huge weight has been lifted off your whole body thanks to the impromptu venting session; you appreciate the manner in which he stayed quiet and let you finish talking, not once interrupting and not once taking his attention away from you.

“Does Maverick know about this?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m already drafting my request for resignation.”

“You know that most of the time, those requests get rejected, right?”

“Yeah.” You groan, finishing your beer as well. “But I don’t care. I’d at least try. Then if they won’t allow me, maybe I’ll just orchestrate a fourth near death experience and—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Jake cuts you off and you raise your eyebrows at him. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I was just joking.”

“It’s not a good joke. You know better than to joke about things like that.” He’s serious, the most serious you’ve seen him in a long time.

He’s right. You know he is and it pains you to admit it to yourself. You swallow hard, abruptly ashamed. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just all over the place these days.”

“It’s fine.”

“I was being stupid.”

“You’re going through a hard time.”

“I’m sorry for trauma dumping.”

“It’s alright, Goldie.”

You stand up, getting his empty bottle and trudging to the kitchen to place them on the counter. “If you want to go, you’re free to. It’s late.”

“I can stay here if you need company.”

You laugh humorlessly. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“It’s not babysitting.” He pushes himself off his seat and follows you. “I just don’t feel good leaving you in this state. You’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m okay,” you correct him. “Like I said, I’m just all over the place these days. I need time alone to think and be sure of what I want to do.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great loss to the Navy if you quit.”

You snort. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Why do you think I like pissing you off? It’s because you’re competition. You’re almost as good as me.”

You’re leaning on the counter and Jake’s standing beside you, his hand a few inches from your waist.

“Actually, I’m better than you, Hangman.” You smirk. “And maybe so is Rooster. He’s certainly better than you when it comes to being a leader.”

“Yeah, but I’m faster than him.”

“You’re reckless compared to him.”

“I can beat him in a dogfight.”

“He doesn’t leave his teammates behind.”

“Yeah, he forces them to go as slow as he is.”

“It’s not a bad thing. He’s being careful.”

“Slow doesn’t equate to being careful.”

“It doesn’t matter. I like him better than you anyways.”

“You like him better? You sure about that?”

You don’t know how it happened but you’re suddenly standing very close to Jake, your faces tilted towards each other that you’re certain if one of you moves any nearer, you’ll end up kissing. You’re reminded of how the squadron often teases you both, saying that the reason you bickered a lot was because of the sexual tension that both of you shared, but you always made an effort to deny it, declaring that there was no way in hell that you saw Hangman in the sense and you’d rather make out with a frog than the said cocky pilot.

Being in this situation with him right now though? After sharing a beer and letting yourself show your most vulnerable side to him? Seeing how genuinely concerned he is for you? How he actually see you as a highly skilled and capable naval aviator? It messes with your head a bit, makes you think that maybe you’re just really excellent with pretending that you’re not affected by his stupidly handsome smile, or drawn to gazing at his toned body whenever he’s in his uniform, or distracted when he’s sputtering off nonsense meant to rile you up and instead you’re noticing how pink his lips are, how soft they must be, how dozens of girls have fallen victim by his charm and how good he must at working those lips of his…

“You’re staring,” he whispers.

Your eyes move up. “What?”

Jake grins, like he understands what’s happening at this second. “You’re staring at my mouth, Goldie,” he says. “Is there something on my mouth?”

You shake your head. Your cheeks are warming up. Your heart is beating faster. You’re aware that he’s teasing, that he wants to get a reaction from you, and you’re annoyed that he’s getting what he wants. “It’s late,” you repeat your statement from earlier. “You should head back. Get some sleep.”

He thankfully steps back and you exhale.

“When are you coming back?” he asks.

“I’m not sure.” You start leading him to the front door.

Once you’re there and opening the door for him, he stops for a second, looking at you. “Hey, if you need someone to talk to… you can call me, alright?”

You find yourself smiling in amusement. “Tonight doesn’t make us friends, Hangman.”

“Good.” He returns the smile, sly and that teasing glint still in his eyes. “I don’t want to be friends.”

Before you can quip back a reply, he’s saying goodnight and marching down the steps of your porch, going inside his car and driving off.

****

You came back two days later and returned like you never left.

He didn’t talk to you again after that night. You didn’t call if ever you did need someone to talk to, and he didn’t approach you unless he really had something to say. You two weren’t avoiding the other per se; there just wasn’t a need to be within the other’s vicinity nor the obligation to initiate the conversation that much. However, in Jake’s case, he wanted to check on how you were doing, especially after being briefed on why you were having second thoughts about your position in the Navy—he just didn’t think it was okay for him to do so, not when he had a feeling that you didn’t want acknowledge the fact that you did tell him your story out of everyone in the squadron.

Eventually, it was decided and announced by Cyclone that Maverick would be appointed team leader to conduct the mission, seeing him to be the most fit among the graduates he was supposedly training for the job. Maverick chose Phoenix and Bob to accompany him, picked Rooster along with Payback and Fanboy to head the second strike team, and assigned Hangman as the emergency action pilot.

Jake saw how you were disappointed not to be given responsibility for anything for the mission, which didn’t make sense since you didn’t even want to be here in the first place. He figured you must have been looking forward to being appointed nonetheless, maybe driven by your desire to make your father proud still that you were willing to go on this dangerous operation to please him.

“Hey,” you called just as he was about to hop on his aircraft. “Be careful out there, okay?”

He grinned, tilting his head at you in a mocking manner that makes you regret for saying anything. “Are you going soft on me, Goldie?”

You scoffed, but you were flashing him a grin in an instant. “You wish. I just don’t want you to get yourself killed so I can do it myself.”

“Yeah, that’s totally why.”

“Shut up, Bagman.”

He gave you a wink before carrying on with what he was doing while you made a show of rolling your eyes before walking away.

After that, despite how the events weren’t as smooth sailing as you liked, nobody ended up arranging anyone’s funeral and Jake was even hailed as one of the heroes since he successfully saved Maverick and Rooster when they were heading back to the carrier.

And now, the whole squadron is doing some kind of post-mission celebration. It’s held in the Hard Deck, the bar near the naval base, and as Jake drinks with the rest of the crew and secretly relishes how everyone no longer saw him as only an arrogant pilot but an arrogant and reliable pilot, he finds himself trying to spot you among the crowd of aviators and every significant staff that made this mission successful, wishing he can know what are your thoughts about what has happened today.

“You see Goldie anywhere?” Jake asks Javy, placing the empty bottle of beer on the counter.

Javy scans the area and shakes his head. “No. But I think I saw her going out earlier.”

Jake nods.

Without further ado, he decides to go out of the bar and try starting his search there. He’s grateful he doesn’t need to explore the whole seaside to spot you plodding to where he’s guessing your car is parked, your legs wobbly and all, appearing you’re preoccupied with no regard to your surroundings that allow him to catch up beside you inconspicuously. As soon as you notice him though, you’re blinking multiple times, pausing for you’re surprised to see him here when you know he should be with the others.

“Jake,” you say, and he ignores the odd feelings that erupt in his chest upon hearing his name from your lips. “What are you—”

“Welfare check,” he explains. “Where are you going?”

You laugh out loud. He realizes you’re a bit drunk. “These welfare checks are becoming frequent.”

“It’s the second time. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Two times is too much for you.”

He changes the subject. “You’re not planning to drive home when you’re drunk, are you?”

“No, I’m not that stupid.” You scoff. “But I was planning to sleep in my car, just until I’m feeling okay to drive.”

“I can drive you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Let me do it anyway.”

You stare at him and he holds the stare, green eyes piercing through yours that you can feel right in your core. You’re mesmerized, caught in the moment, similar to that time in your kitchen, and before you understand your actions, you’re handing him your keys and going to the passenger’s side.

****

You don’t verbally invite him in but he follows you regardless, taking the sign of you opening the door wider for a few seconds as he walks from behind the invitation itself. You allow him to act as some shadow as you cross the living room and go to the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge, no words spoken from the both of you, and it’s only when you turn around to say something that it’s dawning onto you how it was maybe a bad idea to have him over.

You trust Jake as a man who won’t take advantage of you, but you don’t trust yourself with the thoughts you’ve been having about him lately. After that night when he did his first ‘welfare check’, you couldn’t shake him off your mind as fast as you usually could; you’ve spent a lot of your free time thinking of him and how you don’t exactly hate being in his presence like you’ve been telling yourself. Worse, you’re considering how you might truly be attracted to his infamous charm, captivated by that Texan accent and confidence whenever he went, steering the attention of everybody in the room.

You watch him take slow strides in your direction. You’re not moving, you’re not attempting to get away, and when he stops directly in front of you, your heart is doing that thing again—palpitating and striving to burst out of your ribcage.

“Are you going forth with your resignation?” he suddenly asks.

“Not yet, I suppose. I talked to Maverick about it today, and he’s offering to endorse me to the Admiral and Vice Admiral to make me an instructor in TOPGUN.”

“And are you taking it?”

“Maybe.”

The lights inside the house aren’t open. It’s only the lamp you had beside your sofa; its warm hue illuminates your faces and creates this sense of intimacy that you can’t brush off. Jake’s expression tells you he’s in deep thought, as if he’s having a dilemma of his own, and you’re under the impression that perhaps he’s confused with what’s going on right now as much as you are.

“If you take that job, then you’re staying here, aren’t you?” he guesses, and you shrug.

“Most likely.”

“Then there’s no chance we’ll be deployed again in the same squadron.”

“I wouldn’t say there’ll never be a chance again but—it’s a high possibility,” you say. “Why? Can’t stand to be directly in the same team as me anymore?”

He chuckles. “Partly.”

“Partly?” you exclaim. “You really don’t like me that much, huh?”

“It’s not that. You think I’d be here if that was the case?”

“You said the other day you didn’t want to be friends.”

“Yeah, and being friends is still the last thing I want with you.”

“Fine by me. My feelings are very much mutual, I assure you.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you’re not understanding what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean I’m glad we won’t be placed in the same squadron again because there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest.”

You’re left speechless, the implication of his words causing you to overthink. Is he telling you what you think he’s telling you? Are you completely missing his point? Is he just messing with you? Playing mind tricks to have you wrapped around his finger? Whatever it is—whether your suspicions are right or not—you don’t let yourself think about it further, for this tension between the both of you is heightening and there’s a voice in your head that tells you to kiss him to find out what he really sees you as.

So you do. You kiss him, closing the gap between your lips and throwing your arms around his neck to tug him closer. It’s probably because you’re drunk that you’re brave enough to execute such a crazy gesture; you think how liquid courage indeed does wonders to your brain and your ability to know what’s wrong and right. And you can literally hear the gears in Jake’s brain moving as he stands there, hesitant at first to reciprocate, but eventually succumbing to it with an intensity you didn’t know he’s capable of giving, a hand falling on your hip while the other presses against your cheek, his fingertips inching forward to your hair that you quietly moan at.

Every sense you have is enhanced as the two of you make out. You can discern the pounding of your hearts; you can hear every pleased sound he makes as well as yours; you’re aware of every action he does, what he decides to do with his hands which moves to your waist, to your back, and lower… and even lower than that…

However, it ends as fast as it starts, and before you can properly react, Jake’s already breaking the kiss.

He looks grudging. It’s clear that he didn’t want to stop. “You’re drunk,” he whispers, an explanation to why he still did.

“Just tipsy,” you correct, about to try kissing him again but he dodges it, instead placing a lingering kiss on your cheek that spreads chills all over.

“We’re not sleeping together unless you’re sober.” His lips are on your ear, and you’re awfully getting mixed signals. It’s like he’s saying no yet continuously seducing you.

“I’m not that drunk.”

“I drove you home because you are.”

“No, you insisted on driving me home.”

“Because you were planning to sleep in your car, Goldie. Come on, are you seriously arguing with me on this?”

You groan, frustrated. Your head is starting to hurt because of the aftermath of the kiss and the thinking and the analyzing when it comes to what he’s saying to you and the actions he’s showing tonight. “Am I getting the signals wrong? Isn’t the reason you went here because you want to sleep with me? You just told me you didn’t want to be friends—because obviously, friends don’t fuck.”

Jake’s laughing once more. It certainly doesn’t seem you’re sober from the way you’re talking to him, too blunt and careless. “You didn’t read the signals wrong. I do want to sleep with you.”

“Then why are you rejecting me? I’m practically begging here. It’s goddamn embarrassing.”

“____,” he utters your name, still grinning in amusement yet his features are softer now as he stares at your half-lidded eyes boring into him, “if you were any other girl who’s asking me, I’d gladly sleep with you. You’re not some girl though—and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“What?”

“I want to date you.”

“Okay, hold on.” You whip your head back in shock but you’re not pushing him away which Jake takes as a good sign. “Are you kidding? You better not be messing with me right now.”

“I’m not messing with you.”

“There’s no way in hell you want to date me, Hangman.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.”

“You don’t even know me that well.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to elope and run away with me.” He chuckles and steps away, giving you a bit of room to breathe. “I’m just saying I like you and I want to get to know you better.”

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline that’s never going to arrive. “You’re nuts.”

“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I thought you only wanted sex!”

“I still want sex.” He smirks and you squint at him in distaste. “But after a couple dates maybe. I take it slow with women I actually like.”

“You take it slow? You?”

“In relationships and in bed—if that’s your thing.”

“God, you’re giving me a migraine.”

You head to the part of the kitchen where you have a pouch of medicine for instances like these. From your peripheral vision, you see Jake already getting your unfinished water bottle to hand it to you as soon as you popped the aspirin in your mouth.

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” he says. “You should rest.”

“I should wake up from this nightmare.”

“I didn’t know jumping on me and begging for sexual intercourse was part of your nightmares, Goldie.”

“Fuck you.”

He grins. “Go to bed. I’ll leave right after.”

“How are you going back to the Hard Deck?”

“I’ll book an Uber.”

“Okay.”

You let Jake usher you to your bedroom, saying that he’ll visit you first thing in the morning. You tell him that he doesn’t have to bother but he replies that he needs to do another welfare check which you roll your eyes at, reckoning that it was cute the first time but now it was getting old and corny. He just laughs at you, for what seems like the nth time that evening, the reality of what happened between the both of you is beginning to sink in—and you’re not freaking out anymore. You think you kind of like it; you like the idea of Jake taking you seriously and conveying how serious he is by making his intentions clear.

“Good night, darlin’,” he says, brushing a portion of your hair away from your face.

You take a deep breath. You still kind of want to jump on him still but you immediately push those inappropriate thoughts away.

“Good night, Jake.”

****

The next day, a huge part of you genuinely thinks that everything that transpired last night was only an infuriating almost-sex dream.

You would have slept all day if it wasn’t for the heat of the sunlight seeping through your windows. When you opened your eyes, you saw that it was past 11 a.m. and your head was already killing you, causing you to sit up and head groggily towards the kitchen to wash your face, brush your teeth, and find the aspirin that could help with the headache. You’re the type of person who prevents a matter from worsening while it’s still possible, and you don’t want to spend the rest of your day wincing and complaining about your condition when it could easily be solved.

The moment you swallow the medicine, your brain thinks it’s the perfect time to bombard you with memories of what commenced the day prior. In an instant, you’re remembering the drinking, and then Jake driving you home, that odd tension between you two, and—oh, God. The kiss. The conversation after the kiss. Jake confessing what he felt for you and what he was going to do about it now that he said it out loud.

As if on cue, a knock pulls you away from your thoughts and like a robot, you mechanically go to your door to greet whoever it is that’s on the other side. You don’t even have the energy to peek through the curtains first like you usually do, and you realize that it’s a huge mistake that you forgot that step because once you’re swinging the door open, there’s Jake on your porch.

“Woah, not so fast.” He puts a firm hand on your door as you attempt to shut it on his face, very reminiscent of the other night. “I see you’re not planning on using an amnesia card on me because of yesterday.”

You grimace at the reminder. “Go away. My head hurts and I can’t deal with you today.”

“Good thing I bought hangover soup then. Can I come in?”

“No.”

“What if I say please?”

“Still no.”

“Alright, come on,” he’s still resisting the force you’re putting on the door to close it, “at least take the soup.”

You glance at the paper bag he’s holding and reach for it. However, he slyly moves it to the opposite direction.

“Hangman.” You grit your teeth.

“If you’re taking the soup…” he trails, “then that means you’re agreeing to a date. Will you still take it?”

It’s ridiculous. It’s such a middle school tactic, you think—yet there’s a little something fluttering inside your chest, a bit amused at how Jake is approaching this. There’s truly nothing like a man who goes out of character for the woman he adores; from the manner in which he’s acting, it’s apparent that he’s not afraid to show you a side of his personality that isn’t the usual macho, cocky, and self-absorbed one. Somehow, even if you’re aware that he’s going towards the cheesy route, you’re digging it.

With a roll of your eyes, you snatch the paper bag from his grasp and saunter back to your kitchen.

“Are you coming in or what?” you call, noticing that he hasn’t stepped in.

He strides to where you are, this cheeky look on his face as he reverts to his standard overconfident self. You remark how he goes after you, soon caging you by the sink while you’re getting the utensils from its designated cabinet to use for this so-called hangover soup he brought with him. You’re not fazed despite the proximity and how this scene mirrors last night when you face him, even raising your chin a bit higher to appear further composed.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says.

Jake makes a familiar show of his eyes flashing from your eyes to your lips, smirking, and just when you think he’s leaning down to continue where you left off, you tease him by placing a palm on his face and gently shoving his face away.

“Shut up, Bagman.”

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagines #hangman fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagines #glen powell #jake seresin drabbles #hangman drabbles

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nexadarling · 3 months ago

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Trigun Explicit Recs!

So it turns out there are too many good fics in this fandom and I maxed out the amount of links allowed in a single post (it's 100 btw) so I decided to split the E rated stuff from everything else, cause it makes sense to me.

I offer you my list of smut, organized by wordcount! Most of which will also give you so many emotions cause what is Vashwood with out self-loathing and biblical references. This is a living document and I update it regularly, so come check back for more recs!!

I tried to tag all the authors who have tumblrs, but if I missed someone pls tag them/let me know!

Any fic that features "+" after the word count is on-going/uncompleted, and they are all listed at the end. As they finish, I will add the final word count and place them accordingly.

Check the tags yall!!!

a softer world by Harubo ( @helloharubo) - 2k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Painter Vash; Doctor Wolfwood; Reincarnation vibes; Wolfwood has regular dreams of Vash where he's covered in scars and full of a deep, aching sadness. When he wakes up, he needs his husband to reassure him he's still in one piece

not dying, then by amaiyo - 2k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp (I think? iirc); Plant Heat; Vash goes into heat and Wolfwood does his best to help, but man is he kinda lost; this is so fucking good, Vash is such a mess, and honestly so is Wolfwood but he's just trying to keep up, poor guy

Ask Without Speaking by ChenamaReel - 2k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Wolfwood comes to Vash's room to wake him from a nightmare, and stays. Halfway through the night they both wake up to a very compromising position; Listen I've read this an embarrassing amount of times, the feelings packed into this tiny fic are amazing and it's really hot okay????

la petite mort by @babeyxiao-art and expertfool - 3k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Vash and Wolfwood get drunk and argue in an alley. A threat turns into… something much different; this did something to my brain chemistry for sure, I fully blame it for my newly found gun kink

My Body's Moving Into Retrograde by Sacramental_Wine - 3k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood makes Vash want something for himself for once

you'll leave me lonely at best by @procrastinating-bookworm - 3k; Vashwood; E; Post-Badlands Rumble; You know the fucking drill, it's time for some widow Wolfwood reunion sex; God I love the way this fandom explores the hell Wolfwood went through before Vash pops back up like "Jk guys, I'm not dead!"

Heat Waves by @revenantpoet - 3k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash is having more regular plant heats because of Wolfwood. Wolfwood helps him out (in the car lol) and tries really hard not to think about the fact that he triggers such a reaction from Vash; I like my smut with a side of angst and Vashwood brand repression! This is that exactly, and it's really fucking hot. Blowing so many loving kisses at Rev for this

when your stitch comes loose by @starkillling - 4k; Vashwood; E; Vashwood's relationship with Vash's wings

Your Beauty Never, Ever Scared Me by Sacramental_Wine - 5k; Vashwood; E; Wolf shifter Wolfwood (if you've ever seen Wolf's Rain it's like that); Vash helps an injured wolf, the next morning a man shows up at his door; no cause this is so cute Vash is so baffled at first by Wolfwood’s appearance I love them so much???

Strange Powers by @tenshinokorin - 5k; Vashwood; E; they accidentally get high and fuck about it; I laughed my ass off reading this, pls, it's so good

when I picture you by @pinklicour - 5k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - College; This is just a silly little fic about Vashwood hooking up, but Wolfwood's pining is so precious and I've reread the scene where they actually become a couple several times cause it makes me so happy; Mack always keeps me so well feed with all the cutesy vw concepts

Little Pieces of the Nothing that Fall by starkstateofmind - 5k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; it rains and Vash manic pixie dream girls himself into bed with Wolfwood; i kinda stared at a wall for a little after reading this, it's really beautiful and I might also be a manic pixie dream girl

Sing Pretty Melodies on the Motel Bed by @amphetamine-keen - 5k; Vashwood; E; Trimax vibes; Wolfwood convinces Vash to try a vaginal plug; this is just smut but I did read it at least twice. idk what that says about me, but it does say that it's a good fic. And that I have a new toy I need to buy– ANYWAY

fire, nicotine, and iron by quietfaun - 5k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Dirtbag Wolfwood, cause it's a weakness I have; Vash gets Wolfwood shot and feels really bad about it. After all, he was really just picking up a stranger for a good night, he wasn't looking to get pulled into Vash's world; Wolfwood is so fucking nasty in this and I am exactly as into it as Vash is, lord help me

Sing, Sweet Salvation by Bohemienne - 5k; Vashwood; E; Trimax/98; Vash ignores his feelings for Wolfwood just a little too long, and his body decides to Do Something about it. It gets... monster-y; You I'm a sucker for some creature Vash and some monsterfuckery!! Hell yeah

Nothing but Neon by just_a_lil_shipmate - 5k; Vashwood, E; Trimax/98; Vash and Wolfwood go to bed like normal--totally normal, nothing wrong with sharing a bed with your friend no matter how much Vash wants it to be more. Vash wakes up with Wolfwood hard against him and maybe gets a little carried away; I fully blame this fic for me liking somno, but it just manages to be the right amount of soft and hot

what you need by amaiyo - 6k; Vashwood; E; sequel to Not Dying, Then; Vash wants to make up for falling asleep after Wolfwood helped him the first time with his heat; Bottom Wolfwood supremacy!! Man gets his shit wrecked, physically and emotionally

disarm you with a smile by gloriousporpoise - 6k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Friends With Benefits; 5+1; It gets harder and harder for Wolfwood not to kiss Vash; You will--and I mean you will--spend this entire fic chanting 'kiss him! kiss him! kiss him!' and be disappointed when he doesn't despite knowing it doesn't happen until the clearly labelled +1 scene

welcome to the beautiful place by @pinklicour - 7k; Vashwood; E; Vash watches Wolfwood interact with a kid for too long and has Feelings about it, turns out Wolfwood feels the same; biting them, shaking them like dog toys, let them have a family goddammit

Nothing Left to Hide by GGumdrops - 7k; Vashwood; E; Wing fic wing fic wing fic; Vash is clearly uncomfortable but doesn't want to tell Wolfwood why. When he finally convinces Vash to show him, he preens his wings for him

in other words by riverenne - 7k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Triple-amputee Vash; Unsurprisingly, Vash and Wolfwood are running, and Wolfwood learns a lot about the whirlwind that is Vash; listeeeennnn they're so desperate for each other

when you've laid your hands upon me by amaiyo - 7k; Vashwood; E; Vash gets feverish and delirious, and Wolfwood wants so badly to help. It's not until he's really out of it that Vash realizes what's happening: a heat that can only be triggered by intense emotion linked to an individual; Vash loves Wolfwood so much it sends him into heat and he's so worried about driving Wolfwood off but he needs him so bad

you tear down my reason by halfdemonvash - 8k; Vashwood; E; .... trimaxVashwood/stampedeVashwood; yeah it's selfcest, i'm not sorry about it, it's so fucking good

Bind Your Faith in Scars and Tape by just_a_lil_shipmate - 8k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - College; Vash pines after Wolfwood, and then properly falls for him when they're forced to spend time in the university greenhouse regularly; Meryl is my favorite

perfect world by outdoorcats - 8k; Vashwood; E; sequel to Water Supply; less drunk but more (beautifully) emotional; "What if we ran away and got married" vibes

bad moon rising by crocodile - 8k; Vashwood; E; Urban Fantasy AU; Vampire Vash; Werewolf Wolfwood; Hunter Wolfwood; T4T; The author describes this as slice of life between vampire and vampire hunter and like yeah that's exactly what this is and it fucks

water supply by outdoorcats - 9k; Vashwood; E; they get wine drunk and get like emotionally horny; this is so fucking beautiful they’re so in love I hate it here

Holding My Breath by @nekotachis - 9k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Vash tells Wolfwood he's never been on a date, so Wolfwood takes him on one. Feelings are definitely not had during said date

the perfectest herald of joy by riverenne - 9k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash has a lot of self-soothing habits that drive Wolfwood absolutely insane; I am so unwell about how River writes Wolfwood for real

Dark evil ocean, I’m craving more by Albedothighs - 9k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Mer; OrcaWood; Human Vash; Vash and Wolfwood work together so Vash can temporarily be a mer, that way they can be together when storms would otherwise keep them apart. Of course, instead they have a lot of fun exploring Vash's new body together

Trial and error by Anonymous - 10k; Vashwood; E; Vash has freaky plant parts and is pretty sure he can't orgasm, but he's happy to be with Wolfwood however he wants! Wolfwood is determined to prove Vash wrong; Literally cannot get enough of unconventional, incompatible plant stuff for Vash, so this was very fun

like the holding of hands (like the breaking of glass) by @flowercitti - 10k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash wakes up after the sandsteamer and faces Wolfwood's full knowledge of his inhumanness; (spoilers WW still thinks Vash is beautiful)

Where The Delicate Stops (Show Me) by @nexadarling - 10k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Creature Vash; Predator/Prey; Wolfwood sets off Vash's competitive nature and gets chased through the woods. He likes it more than expected; shameless self-plug, I'm just real proud of this one

corsetry, couture, and how (not) to court your coworker by Umbr_el_on - 10k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Fashion; Fashion Designer Wolfwood; Model Vash; Wolfwood chooses Vash to debut his new creation, and he really does try so very hard to be professional about it; oooohh boy what a way for Vash to realize he has a huge thing for breathplay, damn

geoplant medicinals by @avoidingavoidance - 11k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Wolfwood accidentally gets soooo fucking high. Vash joins him and they have some frankly awesome sex; Wolfwood spends this whole fic being sickeningly in love with his boyfriend and thinking about how pretty Vash is and I love it

the sun is warm (i miss your smile) by mor (mornin) ( @bakubaji) - 12k; Vashwood; E; Vamp Vash/Vamp Hunter Wolfwood; Modern AU

with the same sweet shock of when Adam first came by feelingfoxylmao - 12k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - BDSM Scene; Wolfwood fucks up at the BDSM club and Vash (consensually and pre-scripted) teaches him his lesson; Dom Vash, Sub Wolfwood; Vash makes Wolfwood bark, what more could I possibly say to make you want to read this??? It's wonderful; slight secondhand embarrassment warning for the beginning where Wolfwood fucks up, but it's worth getting through, trust me

take my breaking heart (and tear it all apart) by johnnyfucksup - 12k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood tries not to let himself want. Enter Vash, who ruins those plans

Late Night Confessional by ValiantRose ( @sleepyartcryptid) - 12k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU I think?; Trans Wolfwood; Priest Wolfwood; Vash comes to confess his sins... he technically commits more instead, but who’s counting?

and our walls fall like jericho by thechaoscryptid - 12k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Wolfwood doesn't want. He doesn't. He doesn't. (He does); Every time Wolfwood tries so hard and fails at keeping down his affection for Vash I lose my goddamn mind

Like Eden by @RevenantPoet - 12k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash takes Wolfwood to the bio-dome on Ship 3, and they open up to each other a little more than he was expecting; Rev's poetry is so nice and the way they handle the intimacy between these two melts my brain a little. Both the sexual and emotional

Within Us An Orchard by plumtoad - 13k; Vashwood; E; Vash is a sad plant boi, so Wolfwood cheers him up feat. fruit

to control against the pull by catchatter ( @needlab7) - 13k; Vashwood; E; A/B/O; "Wolfwood tries to help out the bro and gets consumed with The Longing"; It is my personal mission to make everyone read this. Please, even if you don't like omegaverse just give it a chance I am begging you

I know I'm gonna die of this by @orcelito - 13k; Vashwood; E; T4T; Vash doesn't like to be touched during sex. He does, however, desperately want to fuck Wolfwood. Wolfwood shows him exactly how much he appreciates it; THE Strap Fic; the fact that this is part of a series based on Nothing But Thieves' song Impossible has me incredibly fucked up; Nico, darling, thank you for writing this, it was delightful

Give Me Mercy No More. by hollyleighannee ( @wytchsbrew) - 14k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Bodyguard Wolfwood; During a sandstorm, Vash spends a special night with his secret boyfriend; OH MAN OH GOD WOW; first of all this Wolfwood... I gotta go sit down for a second, damn; the sex is hot, but the emotions are hotter, Wolfwood is so careful to give Vash everything he wants and cares so much, they are both so in love; Holly your fics give me so much joy, I'm so sorry for decimating your notifications

sunshower by crocodile - 14k; Vashwood; E; Reincarnation AU; Friends With Benefits; Age Gap; 500 years later, Vash finds Wolfwood... kind of; look this is so good Vash has so many feelings, but Wolfwood is his own person, but he's also definitely Wolfwood and everything is different but nothing really is and aaaaaaahhhh

resurrection men by spicecandy - 14k; Vashwood; E; Reincarnation AU; Post-Trimax; Vash has a pull to him that Wolfwood can't ignore, something that makes him hang around town much longer than he normally would. He doesn't want to examine that too much; All the little hints of memory in this that Wolfwood doesn't catch and Vash balks over are my favorite

Amarillo Sky by just_a_lil_shipmate - 15k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy/Angel AU; Vash makes Wolfwood realize maybe he's not better off alone; this fic set off my obsession with cowboy Wolfwood…

try my hardest (if you ask me to) by nbagenda - 15k; Vashwood; E; the team stays at Ship 3, and Wolfwood has Feelings about everything being so clean (and so much gay panic about Vash); this one uses he/they interchangeably for Vash which I really really love

in love with my own sins by spicecandy ( @gaycowboyjesus) - 15k; Vashwood, Vash/Vash, Wolfwood/Wolfwood; E; Trimax VW meet Tristamp VW; listen the everything between everyone is so good but the romantic tension between Tristamp VW is so cute

Gun Barrel Red Hot by varelsen ( @cloudstrifing) - 17k; Vashwood; E; plant heat plant heat plant heat plant hea-; Wolfwood notices Vash is gone and goes to check on him. Naturally, he gets way more than he expected and lets go of some feelings in the process. Vash… maybe makes a little mistake about that later; eating this whole, just absolutely devouring it

Long Goodbyes by ChenamaReel - 17k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; After the Arc and before the orphanage, Vash and Wolfwood talk about the what-ifs of the future. With the knowledge of their respective missions, their normal flirting banter turns to something more real; crying sobbing, shoving this in your face

waking up in vegas by kae_karo - 17k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; They wake up married to each other in Vegas after a night they barely remember. They try to track down the chapel they got married in, but kinda don't wanna undo it by the end of the day; listen this is just so cute they’re so into each otheeerrrr

if you were church (I’d get on my knees) by iokanaan - 18k; Vashwood; E; T4T; Actual Priest Wolfwood, feat. trimax Vashwood as guardian angels (I have no excuse for this one but it goes really hard)

so i'll sing to the grave (put you back together) by desertblooms - 18k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Wolfwood doesn't feel worthy to touch Vash, so Vash shows him that's not true

you'll never get enough by tagteamme ( @phaltu) - 19k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Boxer/Gym; Wolfwood owns a gym that is under Nai's thumb, Vash is a regular at the gym and should be off limits; I have read this at least twice and it occasionally haunts my dreams

just a holy fool by @avoidingavoidance - 19k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Wolfwood is so upset about how much of a soft spot he has for Vash and Vash somehow makes it worse all the time always; sure Wolfwood, we all believe that you're annoyed with Vash and not stupidly in love with him

a kind heart to haunt by littleghost ( @ghostlandtoo) - 20k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy/Western AU; Wolfwood is an outlaw, Vash left that life a long time ago and doesn't want to get wrapped up in it again

laughter lines by @beesinspades - 21k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Ace Vash; Grey Ace Wolfwood; Knives sends Wolfwood to bring Vash back to him. Vash doesn't want to go. Wolfwood kind of doesn't want to make him; crying go read this i love it so much all of Bee's stuff brings me such joy

i’m here in search of your glory (there’s been a million before me) by @sascake - 22k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it feat. Wolfwood's entire orphanage

I'd Get Rid of the Sun in Favor of the Moonshine by FlowerFed - 22k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Coffeeshop/Cafe; Milly asks Vash to vouch for her ex so he can get a job at the same cafe as him, Vash meets a handsome stranger at the beach; surely there is no connection between these events…; (spoiler, there totally is and they’re super cute)

a tide of tender mercies by @gloriousporpoise - 23k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood and Vash are on the run after July, chasing bounties; Wolfwood finds himself in a bad way without his serum and gets taken care of (ha, take that, WW!); I'm a sucker for Wolfwood pining hopelessly after Vash and this is just the perfect mix of pining and his snark

sun comin' up by amaiyo - 23k; Vashwood; E; Mermaid AU; Modern AU; Wolfwood is a priest assigned to a tiny island, and sometimes he stands on the pier at night to listen to the strange songs on the ocean wind; Vash is just uncanny enough in this to sate my need for creature Vash, and they’re just so gone on each other

today, and all of the days by @pushclouds - 24k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash owns a donut shop, Wolfwood owns a smoke shop/bar; Vash doesn't realize they're definitely dating; pls Vash spends the whole time being like “ah yes a business partnership” meanwhile Wolfwood is like… just trying to go on dates with his boyfriend? They’re so fucking stupid

Wanna be your sin, I wanna be a preacher by oh_imintrouble - 24k; Vashwood; E; Trans Vash; Modern AU; Dirtbag Wolfwood tbh; Vash is on the run from Knives and meets Wolfwood, who takes care (and takes care) of him when he's attacked and helps him run; Look okay, Wolfwood is so gross in this, like objectively, I don't think he's ever not been high on something and his mattress is on the floor, he carries a hammer for fuck's sake, just to bash people's heads in, but damn if I wouldn't do some questionable shit for a shot with him

Ascension Day by farseersfool ( @birdadjacent) - 26k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU (but still Plant powers); Wolfwood is a hitman hired by Nai to protect Vash. Surely keeping his mark as close as physically possible is only the logical thing to do. Right? Right.

stop me if you've heard this all before by molotovhappyhour - 27k; Vashwood; E; Canon Divergence; Time Traveler Vash; but only in like small increments; Vash has Rules to avoid trouble with his power. Wolfwood makes him want to break... maybe all of them; Eating this whole, shoving it into my mouth; The way Wolfwood is handled here and how his backstory is changed makes me crazy, I love it

Deep Cuts by megumiblues - 27k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Trans Vash; Vash is used to carrying many monikers. El Diablo, Humanoid Typhoon, the things he is called are never good. Wolfwood seems to see him differently for some reason; Get understood and cared for, idiot; Love a touch-starved VW

dance in our catastrophe by @pushclouds - 28k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it; Wolfwood and Vash are stuck in a safe house together, what could possibly go wrong?!; Wolfwood's inner monologue in this is so delightful and sad, they (definitely totally platonically) cuddle to keep the Horrors away, and there is at least one (1) playfight that Wolfwood has to end in a panic cause he gets horny about it

The Lord Won’t Forgive Me (But My Angel Will) by natumn - 28k; Vashwood; E; Eriks Vash ❤️; Two years after July, Wolfwood drunkenly stumbles right into Eriks and Lena, and they take him home so he can recover. He stays with them for a while, but Vash never could run from the EoM forever; Eriks feels always fuck me up, I love making Wolfwood face his desire for domesticity, and Lena is perfect and precious

four suns by Joelene - 31k; Vashwood; E; Trimax Vashwood and Tristamp Vashwood meet in the middle of the desert!!; This is genuinely very cute as well as hot, I reread this immediately after finishing it lol; Trimax Vashwood being competitive and then getting lost in themselves is so precious; Wolfwood begging will always be my downfall; They all fuck, but they don't fuck each other. Like each version Vashwood stays together. They do all make out with their own alternative versions, so do with that what you will I guess

you're a canary (i'm a coal mine) by PotatoButt ( @rubyredgh0st) - 32k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Zoo keeper Vash; Orphanage Worker Wolfwood; Wolfwood brings his kids to see the tomas show, but sometimes he comes alone to watch the cute handler; Brad is so protective here I love him actually

Amazing Grace by jjAfterHours - 33k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU- Ranch; Rancher Wolfwood; Livestock Vet Vash; When Wolfwood calls his normal vet, they tell him she's out of town, but they can send a replacement. Wolfwood kinda maybe finds every excuse to get him back on the ranch; Once again my favorite flavor of VW!!! Wolfwood is fucking in it, and Vash is trying and failing to hold him at arm's length

Angiosperm by somarysueme - 33k; Vashwood (background and later chapter Polygun); E; Post-Trimax; Wolfwood is brought back with some fun... extras, courtesy of the Plants. He and Vash now also have regular... heats? Mating seasons? There are eggs involved; Look okay, hear me out! If you don't like the idea of oviposition, maybe skip this one?? But if you do.... It's Egg Time

blood in the badlands by eviscerates - 34k; Vashwood; E; Vampire Vash/Vampire Hunter Wolfwood on NML; the Eye of Michael is a hunter group, Wolfwood is not supposed to have feelings for Vash

I'm not a Psycho (I'm Just Trying to Get Laid) by @inkfishie - 34k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Various times Vash and Wolfwood have... encounters. Feat. Vash's emotions and awkwardness; this is so cuteeee

At the Top of the World by Insomniac_with_dreams - 35k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy AU; Wolfwood follows a help-wanted ad and finds himself at the Saverem ranch for the summer. He gets... more than he bargained for; God above please read this it's so beautiful and heartfelt and wonderful and they love each other so much fuck

CAUSE OF DEATH (See instructions and examples) by neatrogenous ( @floofyfluff) - 39k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it, but Vash runs faster than the Flash from every single Emotion he's ever had (body horror cw for the first chapter)

i think that we should go and get you out of here by molotovhappyhour - 39k; Vashwood; E; Exorcist Wolfwood AU; Wolfwood travels to July to help rid them of a haunting that's taken root there for years, Vash is, of course, at the center of it; the writing in this is so beautiful and haunting and perfectly disorienting during the spookier parts it’s so good

inter paradisum et infernum by itsacoup - 39k; Vashwood; E; Wild West AU; Preacher Wolfwood; Outlaw Vash; Wolfwood takes protecting his flock very seriously, and when Vash rolls into town, he is determined to do just that. Damn if Vash being so attractive and such a match for him doesn't make that difficult though; The way canon elements of their story and background are mixed into the world-building of this is so delicious; They really are drawn to each other in every life

Saturdays at 6 p.m. by maginot - 42k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash reaches out to professional Dom Wolfwood to ask if he's taking on new subs. Wolfwood realizes he's fucked as soon as Vash walks through his front door; Okay yes this is kinky in the sense that it is an actual, structured BDSM relationship, but it's actually not the kinkiest thing on here??? It is absolutely delightfully spicy and sweet though. And watching Wolfwood fall apart about actually falling for Vash is so fucking GOOD; also vash's pain kink has me on the fucking floor dear god

sugar rush by corvidcaper ( @not-miss-marple) - 42k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash owns a candy shop; Friends with benefits to lovers; Everyone knows they’re dating except the two of them, and goddamn does Wolfwood try to keep it casual; Spoiler, it is anything but casual lol

in the woods somewhere by halfdemonvash - 42k; Vashwood; E; Fantasy AU; cottagecore; Vash finds Wolfwood injured in his forest and takes him to his home to nurse him back to health. Wolfwood... kinda really loves it. Even if he wasn't entirely there on accident

giving in to your fever touch by honeyseeking ( @sweetyuris) - 46k; Vashwood; E; Trimax/98; Wolfwood finds Vash as Eriks and gives him three days to make up his mind; *violently shaking this fic* it's so full of emotions

Pillow Talk by fantasy_stupid - 47k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Nai sends Wolfwood to secretly trail Vash and make sure he's safe while Nai is gone. Vash clocks him immediately and they try to make the best of it; bodyguard Wolfwood you have my heart and soul

by the time the apocalypse began by everythingeverything (yiqie) ( @englishsub) - 50k; Vashwood; E; Sci-fi AU; Spaceship Mechanic Wolfwood; Wolfwood's crew picks up what they think is a distress signal and follow it to it's source; I really can't do this fic justice with a summary without spoilers but like!!! Vash and Wolfwood stuck on a planet together!!! I love them!!!!!!!

The Lighthouse by EloFromMars - 51k; Vashwood; E; Lighthouse guy Wolfwood; Eldritch Horror Vash; legitimate lovecraftian level eldritch horror but like.... Vash is still a baby girl and Wolfwood is still into it; honorary mention for Kuroneko

Citronella by @canyondotcom - 58k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vampire AU; Creature Vash; Woodworker Wolfwood; Wolfwood wakes up in the middle of the night to something--no, someone on his porch. Against his better judgment, he lets them in... Things get... Interesting; Uuggggghhhhh God this is so good I love creature Vash and the vampire lore is so unique and non-traditional I love it so much

song of solomon 4:7 by ellisisntreal - 68k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Trans Vash; A cute new neighbor moves in across from Wolfwood, one who he quickly realizes is the hottest DILF ever and exactly his type; listen. LISTEN! This is so good, Vash's kid is 13, so he's old enough to be funny and snarky, Vash and Wolfwood's banter is amazing, and scenes with all three of them (and eventually Livio) are actually so funny I was wheezing. Idk how you write dialog so real and hilarious, but I had a grand fucking time

Strawberries & Cigarettes by Umbr_el_on - 71k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Tattoo shop/Flower shop; "No, seriously, Livio, it's just casual, it doesn't mean anything, stop"; several days later: *calls Livio crying about how much Vash makes him feel*; and that's it that's the fic; I like that they're both broken and fucked up here, and they make mistakes and piss each other off, but they continue to choose to try together. It just makes me really happy. They aren't perfect but they're perfect together

A Step By Step Guide to Love and Peace, Written by Vash Saverem (Co-Authored by Friends, Family, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood) by calandos - 71k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Fleabag; Trans Vash; Priest Wolfwood; It's fucking.... it's a fleabag AU idk how much harder I can sell this I clicked immediately when I saw the tag; yeah, it has the confession scene; this made me want to cry. I may have actually cried; god I relate to Vash so much

someone to last your whole life by catchatter ( @needlab7) - 73k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it, with deep attention to the realities of mourning and what it means to have mourned someone who is no longer dead; genuinely one of the most beautiful things I have ever read

Trillium and Ivy by @shastafirecracker - 80k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Funeral Director Wolfwood; Garden Center Vash; Wolfwood works at a funeral home across from the garden center, and notices the cute co-owner; this one is a personal favorite it makes me feel insane if I think about it too long

Someone's hand opens (I hold it) by tytonidae - 80k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax Alternate Timeline; Wolfwood and the girls don't meet Vash until long after the events of Trimax; the world building 🤌🏽 the bonding 🤌🏽 the EoM lore 🤌🏽

Wildflowers by @shastafirecracker - 103k; Vashwood; E; Dark Fantasy AU; cottagecore; Trans Wolfwood; Wolfwood is sent to kill the Beast Lord of the forest and gets far more than he bargained for; dear fucking God please read this holy shit I cannot overstate how good the world building is

Daylily by @needlesknives (bakusboi) - 10k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Tattoo shop; Vash comes to Wolfwood wanting to get his scarring covered with tattoos, Wolfwood realizes this project entails a lot more than he anticipated. In several ways

honeysuckle red by @beelzebby666 - 43k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Line Cook Wolfwood (yes it's important shut up); A one night stand turns into Wolfwood spending so much time with Vash and his fucking garden (why does he like bees so much I love him????); Wolfwood just wants to be kept. He just wants to be kept!!!

la vache! by @skittidyne - 28k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Sex Work; Sex Worker Vash; Trans Vash; Wolfwood needs to learn French very quickly since he promised Livio he would and then procrastinated till the last moment. He finds his solution in Vash's... unique way of teaching (it might involve dildos); I'm rabid over the fact there are not more chapters of this

save a horse by ofxanadu - 37k+; Vashwood; E; Western AU; Trans Vash; Wolfwood saves Vash from getting mugged by the Bad Lads Gang and has a night so memorable he's hung up on it for almost a year when Vash shows up again; i cannot even put into words my thoughts on this fic I'm just making feral sounds about how much I love it

If you know me no you don't!

Come tell me your opinions about all of these my DMs are open I promise

#trigun #vash the stampede #wolfwood #vash #trigun stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun maximum #trimax #vashwood #fanfic #AUs #Trans Vash #Trans Wolfwood #T4T vashwood #fic rec

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jnnul · 8 months ago

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super shy

genre: FLUFF, angst bc of reader's insecurities but minji's there to take them all away <3

word count: 0.9k

type: drabble

a/n: hehe back to my roots! here's a little drabble for my beautiful girl after so long of not writing for her <3

it seems when you're sitting here, wrapped up in minji's arms, the entire world is at peace. you know this isn't true and that the moment you have to leave her embrace, the world comes back to the chaotic never-ending march of time you know it to be. but the sentiment makes you feel a little more calm and a little less worried about the future.

"what's got your pretty little head so occupied?" minji says. you're slouched so that your head is resting against her chest and it makes you feel so safe and warm that you can feel the vibrations of her steady heartbeat next to your head and rise and fall of her chest with every breath.

you always ask her if its too much or if you're too heavy or if she's uncomfortable but she always manages to quiet your thoughts with a firm press of her lips against yours, kissing you until she can physically feel the overthinking in your brain finally come to a rest, smiling when she finally does.

her smile never fails to give you butterflies deep in your stomach - especially when its pressed against your own.

"nothing," you say, looking up at her. she tilts her head, eyes searching deep within your own to look for any sign of lying or trying to keep her from worrying about you.

"i mean it. i'm not thinking about anything. i was just - kinda feeling how lucky i am to have you in my life. and how much i love you," you say, your words growing softer as you speak, suddenly growing shy in front of your girlfriend.

minji looks at you for a moment to make sure you truly weren't hiding your feelings from her and when she's satisfied, she lets out a full bellied laugh.

"oh my god. we've been dating for what, like, three years? why do you still get so shy around me?" minji says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. you scramble out of your position to look at her in the eyes.

"you don't get shy around me anymore?" you gawk. minji shrugs, leaning her weight on her palms behind her.

"no - i mean, i still want to impress you. like i still want you to fawn over me and i still want to spoil the shit out of you and it gives me butterflies when you compliment me or when you look at me so excited about something. even more when you're excited because of me. but i don't really get shy around you," she explains, although she's quick to add, "that's a personality thing though, i promise i love you more and more everyday. i'm not falling out of love with you."

"oh." it's all you have to say and all you know to say honestly. it still amazes you how well minji can read you and how she always manages to find the right words to appease your fluttering thoughts.

"i get shy around you. and it makes me feel bad sometimes, because i end up overthinking everything because i can't believe someone as beautiful as you thinks that i'm worth spending your time on, to be honest. especially when you should and could be spending your time on such bigger and more beautiful people. and i know they're just my insecurities and i need to fix my way of thinking but...yeah..." you trail off when minji's lips fix into a disapproving frown. she gathers your hands in hers, leaning down so that she can catch your downcast gaze.

"baby, please. first of all, i think you're incredibly beautiful. but you and i both know that it matters most that you understand how beautiful you are. just because you don't look like a kpop idol doesn't mean you're not beautiful. to be honest, if you did, i don't know that i would love you as much as i do. not that looks are everything and i know that i would love your personality but that's just it - i made that first move on you because i thought you were gorgeous.

"think about it this way: you look at a van gogh and a monet and think they're both beautiful, right? but they look nothing alike. just because something is beautiful, it doesn't take away from something or someone else's beauty. i love you. and i want you to love yourself as much as i do because there might come a day where i can't be with you, even though i wish there was nothing that could keep us apart and i could be by your side every minute and every second."

"but when i can't be next to you, i want you to love yourself to the fullest. i want you to know that you are so gorgeous inside and out and that the reason you were put on this earth is to spread the beauty you have with so many people."

"honestly, you make me a better person just by being around you. that's your beauty, y/n. please, baby," she says, reaching out to put her palms on your cheek, wiping away the tears cascading down your cheeks as gently as possible with her thumbs, smiling at you.

you lean forward to wrap her in the greatest hug you possibly can.

"i love you so much minji. and i love that you love me so much that you want me to love myself the same way that you do."

and the world will continue to spin tomorrow, but for right this moment, this is enough for you.

#jnnul #minji fluff #minji x reader #kim minji x reader #newjeans scenarios #newjeans angst #newjeans fluff #newjeans minji #newjeans #minji fic #kim minji

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itstheghostofmypast · 8 months ago

Text

Tornado Warnings

Idol Song Mingi x (F)Reader

Summary: She had to tell him one way or the other, but she didn't want him to take it any other way than it really was. Who was she confronting though, at the end of it all, herself, him, or their relationship?

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: insecurities, depression, anxiety disorder

Est.Read Time: 25 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Ratings: nc-17

Banner: @cafekitsune

Song Rec: Tornado Warnings (Sabrina Carpenter)

Staring up at the ceiling she wondered if she should tell him or not. He had been sitting at his desk, hunched over, the expanse of his broad shoulders making it look extremely painful. Ever so often he'd mumble to himself, reading out a verse, shaking his head, and then scribbling it out, the room littered with paper balls. After an hour of collecting them and throwing them in the bin, she had given up and decided to read instead- that was 3 hours ago, and by now, the room looked like it belonged to a toddler.

Slamming his hand on the desk he groaned, the wood shivering under his large hand. He was frustrated, she could tell, and he could tell too, but he wasn't frustrated because of the lyrics- no that was just part of the frustration. He was frustrated because he wasn't able to pay attention to her today, spend time with her, or talk to her, even though he had invited her over today. They were supposed to be free today, which they were, which is why he called her but as soon as he saw her face he felt as if the world had stopped and his brain had begun to jumble words together for some coherency- it frustrated him how she was his source of inspiration, yet the subject of neglection.

"Mingi?" She finally decided to break the four-hour-long silence. Shit. She probably wanted to leave, she was probably tired of waiting for him, of course, she was, why wouldn't she be?

"Mingiiiiiii~" she whined, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him, the soft material colliding with his head with an umf. Rubbing his head he turned around, staring at her, eyes filled with dread.

"Yeah- I- am almost done-"

"I want to go to a therapist."

"Sure-" he paused, confused, staring at her for a second, brows knitting together in confusion, why? Was he the reason? Did someone hurt her? Was there something she never told him-

"Mingi, if you keep making that face and zoning out, I'll beat you with a pillow."

Snorting at the threat he stood up, shaking his head before stretching his arms over his head, making him look even taller. Tilting her head up to meet his gaze she frowned, unsure if he was going to take this well or not, but the moment he jumped on the bed beside her, his action causing the whole bed to rock, a laugh wracked through her body.

He laid there on his side, facing her, head resting on his palm, elbow digging into the sheets, most of his legs dangling off the bed as he smiled at her, "Okay, no more intrusive thoughts or work, you have my full attention".

"Finally," muttering, she reached over to run her fingers through his brown, unkempt, spikes, "Look at this nest..." His eyes closed at the kind gesture, only to snap open at the latter statement, "It goes with the concept- does it not look good?"

"Of course it does."

"Then?"

"Just makes it harder for me to...." she trailed off, averting her gaze and pulling her hand back to her lap. Sitting up straight he frowned at her, reaching over to clasp her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, "Love...what is it...you- we promised to always share right?" His voice was calm but she could sense the desperation in his words, slowly pulling her closer, both now sitting cross-legged on the bed, she was glad his bed was as big as him because even with his legs folded in and back pressed against the wall, he was taking a lot of space.

"I told- I mean, you know how I said that I kind of feel off these days?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been seeing this therapist and-"

"You're going to therapy? You didn't tell me? Is everything okay? Did something happen? Wait, you want to or are you going to one?" Brows knitted together he licked his lower lip, ready for more of his interrogation, why hadn't she told him? Did he have a role in this? What was the premise of the situation, were they going to be, okay?

Raising a hand gesturing him to stop and calm down, and for herself to do the same, taking a deep breath she exhaled and gained some form of composure. "I... okay, so, I only went once, free trial kind of thing, but then, she asked me a few questions I couldn't really answer, so I stopped- its been a week so yeah..."

Nodding in return he pursed his lips in thought before muttering, "What kind of questions?"

"Relationships..." He nodded at her short response, thinking for a moment before humming, "And...that makes you feel uncomfortable?"

It wasn't like she felt uncomfortable, in fact their relationship was one of the most important and joyous highlights of her life, but it was one that she was to keep to herself, at least for some time. It's not like she didn't know this before committing to this relationship.

"I- the thing is..." She began slowly, he could tell by looking at her expressions that she was choosing her words very carefully, "I just feel like I'll be lying, so it'll make the session pointless, on the other hand, I don't want to talk about us because what of it is leaked or something else..."

Nodding he thought to himself, humming as he leaned against the wall. He understood where she was coming from, on one hand, he knew how important it was to have a clear head, a cluttered mind often leads one to some form of depression. On the other hand, he wanted to be selfish and keep her all to himself, but letting her go...would make her happy, then the question is, did he love her enough to let her go?

He took a deep breath, pulling his hand away from her, choosing to cross his arms over his chest, as if he were holding down what was bubbling within him, and began his question, trying ever so hard to ensure his voice didn't betray him, "Do you...want to" only it did, turning into a faint whisper " ...you know?"

'"What?" Confused she looked at him before noticing the way his eyes had watered, connecting the dots, only to gasp and yell, "NO YOU IDIOT!"

Grabbing the closest object, she smacked him, over and over again, lucky for him it was a pillow, "WHY WOULD I WANT THAT?" she continued, hopping off the bed, after he had jumped off, to run from her.

"I DON'T KNOW?"

"MINGI! I JUST DON'T WANT TO LIE ABOUT YOU" She threw the pillow that hit the desk, things falling off, wells he had thrown it at him, but he had ducked out of the way, "YOU GENIUS, WHY WOULD I WANT TO LEAVE YOU!" She could feel the bottled-up emotions ready to blow, all the insecurities and second thoughts, the side comments and feelings fuzzing up, ready to spill, mixed with anger and sadness. To think that he would jump to such a conclusion so quickly. Was she not there for him enough? Did she not express her love enough? Or did he not feel the same way for her- in terms of depth and intensity, perhaps he was looking for a moment, a moment he could use to finally escape from her broken form, she was basically a whole package as it is, a burden he had to hide and conceal from the world- perhaps he was tired of keeping secrets too, only unlike her, maybe he wanted to completely let go, but who was she to say no to him, who was she to cling onto him?

"WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DISCUSSED THIS WITH ME BEFORE GOING TO ONE!" He yelled back, frowning at the mess, standing a good distance from her. Okay, perhaps he was upset, not only did she never mention the therapist before, but now he felt like maybe he was the problem. Though his voice had betrayed him, choosing to side with his bottled-up frustration, doing that one thing he had never wanted to do when it came to her, yell at her, to raise his voice and put the blame on her, even though he could clearly see her façade crack, yet here he was shoving it until it shattered.

For a moment she stared at him, quietly trying to arrange her thoughts, to understand her feelings, trying to deal with the turmoil, trying to compose herself, she knew she should have consulted with him before even getting an appointment but, perhaps she was not ready for the yelling. Letting out a frustrated sigh and closing his eyes, he rubbed his face, trying to calm down, to block out all the noise running around in his head. He didn't mean for it to get out of hand, especially not like this.

"I..." she began, only to sigh and shake her head, "Never mind, please forget I ever mentioned it." Walking over to the things that had fallen off his desk, picked up each item, and lined them up neatly against the wall. She could pretend this never happened, that therapy never happened, that her feelings getting the best of her never happened, the feeling of being choked by her own thoughts never happened- not because he had yelled at her, no, but because of the fear of losing him, she’d rather watch herself slowly crumble away than to lose him like this. A toxic trait, it really is, she could now see what the therapist had meant when she told her ‘You must love yourself first before being able to love someone else’, but how could she just let him go? When he had always been there for her, and for once when he couldn’t help her, what was she to do? Leave him- perhaps that would have been better for him, but maybe, just maybe, the jealous little insecure girl in her wanted to hold onto him as long as she could.

"Mingi?" his eyes snapped open at her soft tone, meeting her meek gaze she patted the bed, "Why don't you lie down for a while, I'll order something to eat-"

"Why are- " he corrected himself, "were, you seeing a therapist? " Cutting her off, he stood there on the same spot. Watching her sigh as she sat down on the place she had cleared for him, staring at her lap, "Because...I just...sometimes I feel things...Mingi and I can't understand them and it's like I'm being choked by my thoughts."

His gaze softened at the confession, sighing as he walked to her, taking a seat next to her, he pulled her into his side, arm wrapped around her shoulders, "I- do you feel like that because of me? Because of us- I mean I'd understand because we have to hide our relationship." his words were soft, but she could sense the desperation. Leaning onto him she shook her head, reaching for his free hand, as she began to play with his fingers.

"Never," whispered she clasping her smaller hand in his much larger one, "It was and will never be you- you, this relationship, us, this is the highlight of my life." A smile grew on his face at her words, pulling her closer, if that were even possible.

"But" she pulled away, much to his disappointment, “The thing is, if I lie in therapy, then I won't get a proper diagnosis" She paused staring up at him. Silently nodding he scrunched his nose, trying to push up his glasses without letting go of her hand. An extremely inefficient way, but he didn't want to ruin the moment, maintaining eye contact right now was vital. He knew when she looked up at him like that, she'd be hinting at him to process her words instead of reacting. The way her eyebrows were slightly raised, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, ready for her tongue to roll off the next list of words.

"But?"

Reaching with her free hand she slowly pushed his glasses up, sliding them up the tip of his nose to the bridge, "I don't want to lie about you, I can't pretend you don't exist. How can I say I am single? Forget our relationship for an hour I spend there, skip through the pages of our days spent together, like a chapter pulled out by the editor at the last moment." pulling her hand away she sighed, laying back down on this soft bedding, legs dangling off, arms folded above her tummy as she looked up at the ceiling- it would've been impossible to confess her insecurities and fears while looking right at him. The innocent face he'd make, pouting at her like a child, slowly processing her words.

"How do I lie about you in that office, then come back out pretending I never did such a thing, how do I get back to the rhythm without missing a step?"

Mingi let her pull away, knowing she needed a bit of space, he did do- more than often. So, he sat there, staring ahead, but his attention was solely on her words, patiently waiting for her.

"Even if I convince the doc you don't exist, does this mean I'll end up convincing myself that too- or worse, what if I end up convincing you that I- we, no longer exist."

She had no idea when she had begun to cry, not even a memory of when her vision had turned blurry, but a hand reached up to furiously wipe away the leaking emotions, the guilt that had begun to choke her soul, with a grip so tight and strong that it scared her.

"The worst part is, that you're not even the problem, you aren't the reason for my trip, but factors in my life I cannot control. My family, apparent friends, and this pressure- sometimes I just text you at night, knowing you're asleep, knowing you're tired, knowing you won't reply instantly- but you're like the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can't help but reach out for it when I'm being pulled back into my pit and-" she paused when she felt the bed shake, sitting up on her elbows she noticed his trembling shoulders.

"Min... are you okay?" sitting up, placing a hand on his shoulder, she gave it a light squeeze. "I just...the reason why I walked out was because she asked me if I had anyone around me, I could rely on with my eyes closed. And Mingi...I sat there, staring at her face like an idiot, how could I tell her, the person I blindly rely on is the goofy, giant, artist- I came to know about another idol whose doctor exposed him and well, I can't risk that, but I don't want you to have a partner that's not emotionally fit...you deserve the world Mingi, you deserve to be with someone who will love you as much as you love me, you have a big heart Mingi- I…I don’t I’m selfish, even though I know you deserve all that, I can’t let you go, and I’m not really sorry for that…I-" With a slight pause she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, trying to control it all, for the sake of it, for him, she whispered, “I can’t lose you.”

When she got no response from him, she moved closer, shaking him a bit, "Mingi?" she leaned closer only for him to turn away whining as he let out a choked, "Don't, Yunho says I look ugly when I cry."

She couldn't help but snort at that statement causing him to frown and turn to glare at her. Unfortunately, his red, puffy eyes and trembling lower lip made it too difficult for her to take him seriously as she gushed over him, "Awww don't cry -"

"You're an insufferable woman," he pushed her hands off as she wrestled to not move them, her laugh resonating across the room.

"What? you look cute!" she tried to pull him closer as his large palm pressed against her cheek, trying to push her away, "You’re a masochist, you can't say such things and then laugh! You do need mental help!" he half cried; half yelled in protest trying to not ruin his "cool" image any further.

Their little banter was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by its opening a bit as a head poked in, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you guys okay-" Seonghwa paused at the sight before him.

With one hand she was pulling on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, while her other hand was gripping the leg of his track pants. His eyes scanned the other idiot, whose palm was squished against his girlfriend's face, fingers covering half the side as if he was trying to push her away, while his other hand, arm extended completely, was gripping onto the edge of the bed like he was trying to escape. He noticed their puffy eyes and tousled hair, but he was so confused.

Seonghwa had been asked by Yunho to go check on Mingi. He was in his room when he heard the younger one yell, followed by a few things falling on the ground. He knew Mingi well enough to know he wouldn't do something stupid, but he also knew that the idiot had no control over his tongue when he was emotional. However, this was not what he was expecting to see.

"uhh... never mind."

The door closed as the two exchanged a look and burst out laughing, Seonghwa who was on the other side of the door shook his head and walked away, leaving them be.

She was too busy laughing to realise when he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight as she wheezed. Her face was buried in his neck, giggling against him. He let out a sigh, letting the silence envelop them both for a while, her body still pressed against his, arms not budging an inch, both of them lying on the soft bed. The sound of their calm breathing, mixed with the low buzz of the air conditioner had almost lulled her to sleep, his warmth wasn't helping her either. Just as her brain was about to slow down to neutral, she was violently shaken awake, "Excuse me, don't you sleep on me."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU~" whining she pulled away only to almost fall off the bed until he pulled her closer. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." he smiled at her, when she placed a soft hand on his cheek, pinching it, "I'm not upset Mingi."

"You know Hongjoong is a great person to talk to" he suggested but stopped when he saw the face she was making, "what?" he asked, placing a limp arm on her waist.

"You realise he once advised me to put laxatives in your juice when you pranked me on my birthday."

"WHAT-" He gasped sitting up, "SO IT WAS HIM?"

"So, I think I should just stick to talking about my problems with you." she sighed, laying on her back and closing her eyes, "After a nap though- and you treat me with a nice meal, after ...that," she mumbled, feeling the fatigue left by the rush of various emotions. A few seconds had passed and she was almost asleep, her reflexes slowing down. She was almost asleep until she felt something soft press against her lips for a quick second before she was enveloped by extreme warmth, which could only be him pulling her closer, ignoring the problems and insecurities of the world for a few hours- just the two of them together, alone, peacefully happy in their dreams.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

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unforth · 1 month ago

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i don't know if you are still into 2ha? but what would you say if someone asked you what makes 2ha stand out? It's full of tropes that have been done before and there is nothing new. it's full of cliches according to some people. So, what makes it stand out?

I am still into 2ha, I'd consider it one of my top fandoms right now.

I'll own I find this whole ask rather odd? It implies that novelty is a. possible and b. what I'm looking for in a book.

For a... Name me a book that isn't full or tropes, name me a book that isn't full of "nothing new," name me a book that isn't full of cliches. Enjoyable books aren't ~original~, and imo original is a myth. It's about how the ideas are strung together, not about them being fresh and different and new.

For b... look. I'm almost 42 years old. I've been reading a ton since I was 8. I've read a l.o.t. over the years. And I've come to learn the things I love in characters and books.

Give me a main character (or, in 2ha, BOTH main characters) who thinks they're worthless and will give everything they have to save an innocent stranger. Give me archetypes of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and low self-esteem and adoration and obsession cooked so deep into their bones that it extends over multiple life times. Give me that adoration reciprocated but the pining, oh, it is mutual for these idiots who should be and will be lovers. I'll eat that up every time. Give me someone who thinks they're unlovable but loves the world anyway, and give me someone who loves them so much they'll tolerate the claws.

Give me epic length I can sink my teeth into. Make the plot sprawling, the side characters lush, the world developed. It's okay if some parts drag a little, it's hard to keep momentum over an epic, and one person's "that dragged" is another's "that rocked." Anyway, the slow bits makes the more exciting parts that much more thrilling.

Give me whump, and hurt/comfort, and pain that burns the soul. Make the characters deep and compelling and then confront them with nothing but bad choices, force them to pick... and then see them pick each other, everytime, even in the midst of the darkest night imaginable. Give me unreliable narrators and angst and characters with nobility that shines like the sun even when they're covered in shit.

I adored this kind of story when I was 12 and I started the Wheel of Time and fell in love with Rand al'Thor, and I adore this kind of story now, in Tian Guan Ci Fu and The Husky and His White Cat Shizun and Modu. The patterns in the kinds of books I enjoy most, the ones that make me feral and obsessed, are very consistent, and being Old means I know what those patterns are and I can seek out books that have them, and recognize them when I find them again. It's happening with the book I'm reading now, in fact, and I can feel the feral obsession growling in delight in my brain, lmao.

Ya know how some people go into fanfiction because they love a character and want to see iterations of them over and over a little to the left? Well, that's why I started fanfic, and through fic I found a genre of original fiction that does that for me. I want similar character archetypes in endless iterations of stories, and danmei gives that to me, and that's why I'm up to my nose in danmei fandoms, and why the specific ones I like best are my favorites.

What stands out about 2ha, for me, is that it fits my taste in character archetypes and plot type. If someone out there shares that taste, they'll probably also love it. If they don't share that taste, they may not, but they may, because it's a complex enough book to cater to more than just one specific type of taste. Someone who likes OP control fantasies will also probably like it, for example. I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, and that's not a bad thing. Stories that appeal to everyone tend to be shallow and not attract deep obsession, having sacrificed the depth to draw a wider audience.

Anyway, anon...you phrased this like an anti. 80% of your ask is trashing the book on false premises about tropes and cliches. I genuinely can't tell if this is meant as a troll or if it's sincere, but I've answered as if it's sincere. But regardless, you'll be a lot happier as a reader if you forget originality. Books aren't original. Find an author, genre, series, whatever, that fits your taste, and frolic there. That's the route to happy reading.

I've found mine. I hope you find yours.

#unforth rambles #unforth replies #2ha

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jomamaofficial · 6 months ago

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A Hero's Burden (Midoriya x GN!Reader Angst No Comfort Oneshot)

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, SPECIAL THANKS TO @caramello07, BECAUSE THIS ABSOLUTE LEGEND HAS BEEN HELPING ME CREATE THE PLOT AND BETAREADING MY WORK. LITERALLY, BESTIE, YOU'RE A REAL ONE 🫶🫶.

Hello hello my lovely readers! Thank you for being patient with me. My exams are around the corner so I have been so, so busy with that. But I always pop in to see you guys leave the most beautiful feedback and comments, it makes my day <3. I hope you enjoy this just as much as I did. I really put my heart and soul into this one.

Please let me know whether I should lowkey create a YouTube channel where I read out my work the way I intended to.

As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I absolutely adore all of you, and I want to take this time to thank you guys for your support. Seeing your comments and messages motivates me to write :) <3. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :).

TW: Death and bleeding, SUICIDAL themes.

CW: SPOILER: Season 6, Izuku’s Vigilante arc, swearing, difficult friendship dynamics.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3242.

Summary: Heroes always win. Every folktale, every comic, everything in our life tells us the same thing: good reigns over evil. But the harsh truth comes crashing down in a dark warehouse, where the facade of invincibility crumbles. Amidst the shadows, surrounded by those who once vowed to protect, you can only helplessly watch as your best friend, Midoriya Izuku destroys himself under the weight of this flawed, and broken system. With the entire hero society relying on him, how can he stop giving everything he has? In a world where heroes are human and kindness is a liability. You try to help him, yet even the strongest bonds can shatter under the weight of despair.

——————————————————————————————————

How does it feel?

When everything in front of you disintegrates into pieces, whilst you can only sit there and watch?

It feels like a dark warehouse. Cold and wet.

Sunken in, casting a dark shadow, impersonating the night sky, your eyelids were heavy, succumbing to the shared lethargy that lurked in the heavy air. Your brain did not allow you to rest however, listening only to your palpitating heart, because what if the villains found you whilst you were fast asleep?

Heroes were there to protect you.

But why were you still so afraid? The nation's best heroes had congregated together, sharing the same space as you, breathing the same air as you.

They would never let harm come your way– it was their duty to protect you.

So why were they hiding from that harm, sitting with their knees held close to their chest?

Heroes were there to protect you, but that claim was voiceless in the presence of reality: heroes were hidden– whispering and begging the ground to stay silent as they shuffled in the shadows. Villains ran loose– mocking the hopeless souls that they trampled on, with every free, and unabashed step they took.

Death had not only taken multiple heroes on the battlefield; it had also snatched their facade.

They were not invincible. They were not untouchable.

The world had just forgotten that their heroes were only human after all.

A phone rang.

Roaming eyes halted. They could not speak.

“It’s mine”, Hawks said.

Breaths were held.

“It’s from All Might”.

You leaned in closer.

“Midoriya-kun came into contact with the second hired gun.”

Your chest ceased to move.

“...and he won instantly.”

“Young man-”

“He didn’t have any information.”

The sky wept.

The moon and stars had masked themselves under the darkness that shrouded the city. If they could not see you, they could not harm you.

Toshinori Yagi had just watched the last remains of Midoriya Izuku’s innocence drain into the gutters of Musutafu.

“He might explode too. Be careful.”

He felt the impact of his student’s departure faster than he could comprehend. Therefore he took the chance to call after Midoriya, summoning the scarce energy he had left, ignoring the rising threat in his weak chest, which was ready to surrender to the bloody phlegm building inside of him.

“Wait a minute!” Toshinori ran after him– though Midoriya had only moved for a second.

“Food!” he gasped, his hands lifting a box wrapped in a blue cloth. ““Please, my son, you haven’t eaten…”

His hands tightly grasped around the soft, crisp fabric that was decorated with orange carrots, and white bunnies with pink noses. When he first saw it, Toshinori chuckled to himself before deciding to buy it– this was made for Midoriya, his rising hero, the purest of hearts.

“All Might.” Midoriya did not look back. “I’m fine now. You don’t have to follow me.”

Toshinori’s shoulders slumped down and his brows lowered, pulling closer together. Midoriya was walking away from him without a second glance.

Midoriya had not met his eyes once today.

“I am fine now.” The wind howled louder than his voice, unconvinced.

“Young Midoriya, please...”

The energy around Midoriya had increased, visible power– venomous and hostile– overflowing from his tense body that was moments away from breaking.

Toshinori had to stop him. Or history would repeat itself.

“Midoriya, please, don’t d-”

“I can move at the same level as your 100%...” Midoriya whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. “You don’t have to worry…”

His tattered clothes soaked in the rain, his sound of his heavy steps getting quieter and quieter.

“Please”, Toshinori begged, “wait a minute…”

But before he could finish his heart’s plea, the one who it was meant for had already left, pushing everything away, leaving everyone he had burdened in the dust.

The lunch that his mentor had lovingly made for him now belonged to the sidewalk and the merciless rain. Soon, it would also flow into the gutters of Musutafu.

The warehouse door crashed open.

“Midoriya is nowhere to be found!”

All Might ran in, his hands against his knees, gasping for the still and stale air.

“He-” he huffed again, regaining his breath,” he, he left… I tried to contact him. Phone… off… he’s nowhere to be found… sent class after him… didn’t find him either”

Your eyes twitched at the blank stares that his words had harboured. No one batted an eye.

They were too busy counting the days until they would be found by the real threat.

All Might’s concern for Midoriya ran thicker than blood. And had you looked past those deep-set eyes, you would have noticed the faint veins that bordered his gaze; something was stolen from him. Midoriya had been stolen by the expectations of the world, held hostage in his own mind.

“I know where he is.”

Orudera Chūgakkō. Memories had been etched into the red brick walls. You pushed against that same black gate, its groans and creaks forming the haunting symphony that would promptly begin at eight o'clock sharp.

Lessons would start at eight-thirty, and the low murmurs of the class would subside as your sensei would come in, dropping her bags next to her desk. You would all stand up together, reciting the same monotonous ‘Good Morning Shima-Sensei’ before sitting back down. If she was in a good mood, the class would commence. But if she was (more likely than not) in a bad mood, the entire class would get a scolding.

“You cannot wish your teacher a pleasant good morning, but you can chat to your friends with double the energy?! Do that again. Now! Show me some respect.” And you would all stand for another five minutes, smirking and giggling, repeating it again.

What once felt like a tedious task now brought a smile to your face as you reminisced about the moments spent in the classroom before you.

Birds would chirp, filling the classroom with a sonorous melody. The walls would be decorated by the younger children who drew rainbows and flowers and butterflies with every colour they could get their hands on. There wasn’t a speck of grey or black found in these drawings.

It was so fun to be a child– just a few years ago, your life was filled with colour.

Everything now was grey and bare.

At ten o’clock, the bell would ring and children would scream as they ran towards their friends, ignoring the poor teachers who repeated: “children, please don’t run in the hallways, children please, you may get hurt!”

The large corridor was so full with a sea of chuckles and laughter.

Today, undisturbed dirt coated every surface on the corridor. A desolate strip led down to the most frequented stairs of your past. Its laborious steps led to a place that no student visited as much as you did. On the sixth floor, the rooftop brought you closer to the blue sky and the fluffy clouds. You and the sun would overlook the vast plains of never ending buildings, glistening under the morning glow. People would walk, cars would drive; the hustle and bustle of everyday life resided on the grounds below you. So how could anyone truly feel alone? How could anyone ignore the true beauty of your favourite spot in the whole school?

You now understood that beauty was in the eye of the beholder– the painful truth.

Sleepless nights were spent wondering, what would have happened if you did not visit the rooftop on one particular day? What would have happened to the nameless boy who had stood there, head hanging low, body quivering, feet on the ledge of railings.

Who could have guessed that this stranger would end up as the only friend you ever had?

You could recognise him in total darkness and in different bodies, for Midoriya Izuku’s pure heart could never change. It would always draw you towards him.

You ran up the swindling stairs, the steps leading up to the sixth floor seeming longer and steeper than before. Serenity only belonged to the past– this place brought nothing but a looming sense of dread, weighing you down as time ticked by.

The closer you got, the weaker your heart felt. You had read about it somewhere– our bodies always knew what would happen, so they could prepare us for the worst.

But the thought of losing him before you could see his eyes, your beacon of light and hope, would rend a part of you forever.

So you carried on walking, ignoring the foreboding pricks cultivating in your body.

Those eyes… you could not live without them. They were an open window into the bright and welcoming flame that resided within him. He would give warmth to those who needed it without asking, never expecting anything in return.

Kindness had no price.

So Midoriya Izuku would live with kindness in his heart, even if it meant that it would be vulnerable and open for everyone to use as they pleased.

Midoriya Izuku was priceless. There was no one like him in this world filled with deceit and hate. But the world did not like those who were different from the rest.

He gave and he gave. Yet what would happen when he gave every piece of himself to a world that never gave back? What would happen if he finally had nothing to give apart from his soul?

The world is cruel.

They would steal everything he had. And that is how you found him, through the already opened door, standing under the thundering sky that showed no forgiveness to the young man who would once smile at them too.

Tip tap, tip tap, your eyes were blurry, but not from the rain. They had betrayed you, yes your gaze. For the man in front of you was not the man whom your heart could recognise from afar. You were so close, yet your hearts held distances, akin to the stars. Blood wept, following the course of the pouring water, revealing wounds, neglected but vain. They cried for attention they would never get, as the man who was once a stranger, had become estranged from them.

“Deku…” you did not want him to turn around, praying for this to be a mistake. FOr him to look confused, asking you, “who’s Deku?”

This can’t be your Deku… he couldn’t be your priceless hero…

His head barely turned, but you caught a glimpse of his glowering eyes.

They donned an arcane mask of toughness. His front, unbreakable on the surface, yet unfortunately flawed. You could see right through it, uncovering the secrets that he hid in plain sight.

Immense pain had found an abode in his glassy, teal eyes; exhaustion chipped away at the shell that kept him put up to protect himself from the looming danger that would attack as soon as it smelt his foetid weakness. Midoriya let it happen once, jeopardising everyone around him.

He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Go away,” Midoriya cautioned.

His heart expended too much energy pushing everyone away. He could only hope that you would listen to him– he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Deku…” you pleaded, eyes misting over as you cautiously step forward, hands stretching wearily towards his shoulders, taking care not to brush past those fresh, untended marks that showed through the rips and tears in his clothes.

“Please Deku… let me help you.”

Midoriya stiffened under your touch, guilt overtaking his body.

You couldn’t be seen with him.

The eyes. They were everywhere.

They tracked his every move. And if they saw you now, he would never see you again.

You felt a strong jolt push you back into the wall, your head crashing against the stone walls, losing your grip on him completely. Your hands felt empty– he had disappeared from under your touch.

And it all happened so fast.

Midoriya stared at his hands, his blood fleeing from his extremities. The realisation slowly dawned upon him, raising his heart beat, shifting the energy around him– he was a monster. Mioriya began gasping for air, choking on his own spit and tears, his vision tunnelled in on the surface of his palms.

A monster.

That’s what he was.

Your body lay limp in the rubble of concrete and dust, you swore you felt something wet on the back of your head, but your eyes urgently searched for Midoriya, who was pale and frozen near the edge of the roof.

His feet began to sway, and his eyes began to flutter shut. You overlooked the jolts in your body for your mind could not bear this sight again. Despite the clear warnings your aching flesh had given you to rest, you still ran towards him, clutching his body before he fell onto the ground.

Only in your arms had the outer shell of this vigilante’s stone defence fallen, emerging a broken child who had just caused immense pain to his best friend.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered through his dried throat, quivering as the walls in his mind closed in on him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry”, he repeated, again and again, trapped in a cyclical doom which served only to condemn him.

He was a monster– that depraved voice screamed.

He was a monster– that depraved voice echoed as it stalked him in the depths of his own mind, following him into his deepest, intimate fears. Clutching it, taking over.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

He was disturbingly light in your arms; you just noticed his hollowed cheeks.

Midoriya’s strained forehead loosened as he broke down in your hold, tears running down his thinning face. Your heart beat alongside his, yet you did not dare to glance into his emerald eyes, for they had been robbed of their precious shine. You placed your finger over his mouth as he opened it to say something, a silent reminder– everything will be alright.

“Give me your pain, Deku, please…” you begged, stroking his curly hair away from his eyes. “I can’t see you like this anymore”.

A singular tear dropped on his cheek, stinging him with regret.

“You don’t have to carry that burden alone, Deku… It’s too big… too big to carry alone. You give too much, you don’t know when to rest. You break yourself, for people who don’t deserve it and you take on things bigger than you can ever manage! You think you can do everything Deku, but you can’t!” you cried, unable to stop.

“You don’t need to work this hard, Deku, you don’t. You’re forgetting who you were, Deku. You’re not indestructible! You’re not untouchable, you’re not All Might! You can get hurt, you- you can bleed, you can die for god’s sake, Deku, you can die!”

Your voice began raising uncontrollably, as you held his face, shaking him.

“You’re just a kid, Deku. My Deku… the sweet boy who I love. My best friend…” you grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you took deep breaths, your throat aching.

“But you’re unrecognisable now… You’re destroying yourself thinki- thinking that you’ll survive but what if you don’t. What if you don’t survive, and all of your friends, your teachers, your mom, they’re all just waiting for you to come back.”

Your eyes solemnly scanned his wrist, eyebrows furrowed and lowered. A litany of cuts, healed and unhealed, adorned his wrists, glaring at you. Your trembling fingers gently ran over them, hovering so as to not agitate them.

“But since you wanted to prove that you’re a hero, you go around picking fights that you can’t win.”

The scars on his wrist opened wounds of the past.

Your hands that held his wrist felt empty again. Midoriya averted his eyes from yours, before pulling his sleeves down, stretching the thinning material of his hero-suit, until it covered his exposed skin.

The rain’s sobbing grew louder with every moment that passed by in dismal silence.

“What would you even know about my life, Y/N?" he asked, his voice drowning in the cacophony of the storm.

Just like that, all of the progress you made had collapsed in front of your eyes. Midoriya had rebuilt the cage around his heart

“Deku, what happened?”

Your hands, which reached out for him, were immediately shaken off.

“What would you know about my life? About my struggles?”

His legs faltered when he tried to run away, cramping as a warning: Midoriya couldn’t move, he had used up all of his energy.

“Deku plea-”

“You said what you wanted to say, Y/N. Thanks for reminding me that I can’t let my guard down, even near people I thought I could trust. I’m not ‘indestructible’, I’m not All Might, I never claimed that. But unlike you, I have the world's burden around my shoulders. If you were putting everyone around you in danger, you'd run away too Y/N. But you wouldn’t know that because you're not the one giving everything your body can give, just to find out it's never going to be enough. You’re not the reason this entire city has turned into a ghost town. But what would you know, Y/N?”

He turned around, gaze hardened into stone.

“You're quirkless".

Blood rushed into your cheeks, your heart beating fast.

You must have misheard.

“You don’t mean that…”

He didn’t. The sweet boy you had met years ago on this same rooftop would never use that against you. He didn’t mean it.

"Now, I know why I was treated the way I was when I was younger, Y/N. The quirkless really don't know anything."

You couldn't have misheard that.

You had been beside his side to see every intimate detail in Midoriya’s life– every victory, every laughter, you celebrated together. Every shove and every taunt, you endured together.

“The Quirkless Duo, aw what are you going to do now? Cry?”

“I wonder how your parents feel, only having one useless kid that can never protect them.”

“Ya’ know, if you want a quirk, there might be another way. Take a swan dive off the roof of the building, and pray for a quirk in your next life."

We are born into this world completely alone. And we die in this world completely alone.

Only fools believe that they can escape that.

‘What would you know, Y/N, you're quirkless.’

You were truly alone in every stage of your life.

"You're becoming exactly what we feared, Midoriya.”

He stopped in his tracks, swallowing the rising bile that crept up his throat.

“If I knew this is what I'd get after standing up for you those countless times where I got hurt, where I got kicked and punched and teased everytime I defended you, I would have just let you jump off that roof.”

The wind wailed through the night sky, moving everything in its path.

“You're no hero Midoriya. But you’re right about one thing. You’re the fucking reason everything around you is getting destroyed.”

It was funny to think that their first and last meeting would be on this rooftop.

Midoriya looked at the world, greyer than it had ever been.

It had lost life.

He waited until he heard the door shut behind him.

This life truly had nothing to live for.

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aspiring-artist-em · 1 year ago

Text

Crimson Rivers, is it back? What now? Does that mean Zar is back?

So, like a normal, sane reader, when I get an AO3 notification, I immediately drop everything and check it out. In my little tiny brain filled with angst and smut, I was thinking that it was maybe a chapter being updated, or maybe someone I love replying to a comment I left about how their writing is so fantastic and giving them vivid descriptions of how I wish to burn it into my brain because how good it is. Turns out, that was not the case.

It was a fucking notification about Crimson Rivers being posted.

I sat on my bed, and just stared. My brain wasn’t working. I was halfway though a bag of chips that my dog really wanted and staring at an email that bizarrestars fucking posted Crimson Rivers.

And Best Friend’s Brother.

And Just Lovers.

And all of those fics I was dying to read were back. All the fics that had me frothing at the mouth with want and the insatiable urge to consume everything he put back out into the world. And so, I followed the link in my email and oh my god-

They were back.

All of them.

Every single one of their fics was back up and I was fucking psyched because I have an AO3 account and I have access to it again. Me, along with many other fans of his works and readers in this fandom, texted friends and loved ones. We smiled and downloaded the files, swearing that we will never lose those works again.

___

So, like a normal, sane author, when I get an AO3 notification, I immediately drop everything and check it out. In my little pea brain filled with ways to torture my readers and ways to get them off through my words, I was thinking that maybe someone had kindly left a kudos on my work, or maybe even comment on it. All my works are ongoing and to be honest, I was a little scared to open my email because what if it's a negative comment? What if it’s someone telling me that they hate me because I’m sick and twisted, writing the filth I do. What if it’s someone telling me that they hate how I made a certain character bisexual because in their mind, bisexual women can't also be attracted to women? What if it’s someone telling me that the trauma I write about is misrepresented and that I am an awful person for romanticizing it when I swear I’m not, when I know that I’m drawing from experience. What if it’s someone saying the aforementioned trauma is too dramatized, and that the way that I write it as something to be worked through, doesn’t fit their “one kiss and all the bad memories go away” narrative they have in their head. What if it’s someone telling me I should be ashamed, telling me that I am disgusting, telling me that I shouldn't write what I write even though I have hyperlinks embedded in my fics and even though I have additional warnings per chapter and even though I have so many tags the plot is given away. Turns out, that is not the case.

It was a fucking notification about Crimson Rivers being posted.

I sat on my bed, and just stared. My brain wasn’t working. I was halfway though a bag of chips that my dog really wanted and staring at an email that bizarrestars fucking posted Crimson Rivers.

And Best Friend’s Brother.

And Just Lovers.

And all of those fics people were dying to read were back. All the fics that had people online frothing at the mouth with want and the insatiable urge to consume everything he put back out into the world. And so, I followed the link in my email and

oh my god-

They were back.

All of them.

Every single one of their fics was back up and I was filled with fucking dread, because all I could focus on is how there’s a shiny new prongsfoot fic right there on the top of their page, the first thing people will see. All I could think about is how they talked about people not respecting their wishes with their fics and how people on the internet are fucking relentless. All I could think about are the videos I will see with people complaining that they can’t read it because they don't have an AO3 account and people attacking them for the two chapter prongsfoot fic right there, and how people fucking idolized the guy, putting him on a pedestal and hailing him as the “best fanfic writer ever, right there along with misskingbean (who may or may not be Taylor swift (I swear, Taylor is NOT misskingbean))”All I could think about is the exit he, and MANY OTHER authors made because people got ahold of their work and were fucking rude about it. All I could think of is someone who was practically pushed off the internet for doing what he loves so well that people started hating when he wrote what he wanted to write, and how now, he’s back and honestly, it scares me a little bit because he didn’t deserve the hell people put him through.

___

Crimson rivers, is it back? What now? Does that mean Zar is back? Short answer, yes, yes, and yes. Long answer, yes but only if you have an AO3 account and ONLY IF people can be fucking nice this time around and maybe remember that zar is a fucking person with fucking feelings and something called a fucking mental health to take care of. Authors have feelings too, we aren’t some mindless fic generator. If you want that, go to chat gtp or some shit. We put our hearts and souls into our work and share it because we want to put it out there, not because we want to get bullied.

Now, I know what you're going to say, “oh, but I just really loved the guy, he was like the second coming of christ with his words like I just really wanted to read more because I loved him so much, like I forgot he was a human because I just loved him and a little love never hurt anyone.”

But like, that’s also really fucking problematic and actually obsessive. Just think about it. Like this guy is a person and like, maybe you shouldn’t treat him like he is anything more OR ANYTHING LESS. Like honestly, he probably didn't start posting his work to gain fame, like this was probably really unexpected for him. AND EVEN IF HE DID, IT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET TO TREAT HIM LIKE A FUCKING PRODUCT GOD DAMN. Like, this is a PERSON. Imagine if your best friend or little sibling came to you and was talking about people putting enormous pressure on them and being obsessed with everything they do and how they feel like they have to be perfect and please everyone because if they don't, they’ll get harassed online and like, it’s genuinely damaging their mental health. Like, imagine if that happened to you. What would you tell them? Well, hopefully, you would tell them that those people are fucking obsessed and that they need to take a break and maybe, just maybe remove the works so they could put their mind to rest, because that’s better than this. Like come on everyone, can’t you fucking see the problem with that? Idolization and bullying go hand in hand and the poor guy has been though enough.

Also, remember, be kind to the guy and like, idk, treat him with fucking human decency? Don't deadname him maybe? Don't like, idolize him? Don't get mad when he writes what he wants to fucking write because you don't like it? And maybe like, respect his wishes? It should be pretty fucking simple tbh, but apparently it's a difficult task for some of you. He isn’t a fucking god and maybe like, before you comment, actually sit there and reflect on what you are going to say to him.

SO MAYBE, BEFORE YOU COMMENT SHIT, REMEMBER THAT ZAR’S, (and, for the record, every other author’s) MENTAL HEALTH IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN A 800K WORD STORY ABOUT DEAD WIZARDS. LIKE PLEASE, YOU CAN FUCKING LIVE WITHOUT ONE SPECIFIC FIC WHEN THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER FICS OUT THERE, AND SO MAYBE LIKE, REMEMBER TO RESPECT THE AUTHORS WHO WRITE YOUR STORIES.

MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, BEFORE YOU SAY SHIT, THINK ABOUT WHY HE FUCKING LEFT IN THE FIRST PLACE, DEAR GOD.

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vinelark · 1 year ago

Note

do you have any good reverse robins fic to rec?

oh hell yeah!

Reverse Robins: Joker Junior series by miyaji_08 i rec’d the second fic in this series over here for the timkon of it all, but the series—two parts, both complete—is also one of my absolute favorite reverse robins stories. it goes the joker junior!tim route, so heads up for A Lot of tim-centric trauma, but gives tim (and everyone else) so much healing, too. it also gets creative with the robin of it all, as in, the call sign for batman’s partner is different from the jump because dick wasn’t around to originate “robin” for it, which i always think is a fun extra detail. the batfam characters are great and the young justice crew is also great, so read for top-tier hurt and comfort and great characters and satisfying plot and tim and damian competing to see who is the most Tired big brother of the bunch.

blood of the covenant by envysparkler robins are angsty in any order, but man does this hit the angst sweet spot, which in turn makes the soft parts feel even softer. i genuinely can’t decide what my favorite dynamic is in this AU, between damian & tim (damian wracked with guilt, tim hurting and still wanting an older brother even if he’d never admit it) and tim & jason (no spoilers but chapter 4 especially lights my brain up like a supernova) and tim & dick (i think about the part where dick grayson [tiny, cheerful] uses tim [undead, annoyed] as a jungle gym like once a week).

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefright a longfic where jason gets kidnapped by the mysterious red hood, who turns out to be jason’s not-so-dead predecessor. the jason pov here is great, and i was so compelled by how this AU explored his place in the bat family, and how it managed the emotional fallout from the kidnapping. tim is also so interesting in this—it does something i love in a reverse robins concept, which is make tim’s motivations (and lazarus pit effects) less about anger/hurt/revenge and more about ice cold logic, about being the villain so the bats don’t have to/whether they want him to or not. plus some league of assassins trauma as a cherry on top. also, kon gets to show up for a bit. (as a fair warning—and spoilers ahead—the fic has a somewhat hopeful ending for tim, but doesn’t reach full reconciliation in the scope of the plot.)

i woke up so worried that the angels let go by circees a short but potent batkids age reversal au that’s also a grisha au, starring duke as the coveted sun summoner that damian is trying to deliver to safety without mentally adopting a new brother (damian fails on the second part). even with my limited memory of grisha lore i could tell a lot of thought was put into this au, and i have a feeling it would be even better if you are able to catch all the details. i also love that even in a fantasy world where some of the bat family have magical abilities, duke is still extra special—a great analogy to being a metahuman among the bats.

The 90s Are Back! by RedWritingHood saving the two silly ones for last to lighten the mood! in this one, red hood!tim gets de-aged to sixteen and meets all his new siblings. it’s like .01% angst and 99.99% shenanigans, and pretty much all the dialogue is super quotable but Dick holds out his hands like he's calming a bunch of wild animals. "Okay, I know everyone's real upsetti spaghetti right now, but I think we all just need to calm down." might take the cake.

Clowns Don’t Kill People by mademoisellePlume very short, very silly reverse robins brother shenanigans, in which tiny dick grayson isn’t scared of recovering joker junior!tim because dick, having been raised in the circus, doesn’t associate clowns with evil yet. the fic is fun (and a great palate cleanser if you need a break from the angst above), and the author’s note at the end made me fully laugh out loud.

#reverse robins #fic rec #batfam #when tim as the undead robin is done well it's so 🤌🤌🤌#once again i reserve the right to add more later because i def forgot some

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majesticwren · 7 months ago

Text

here we go. I am not even ashamed. this thing was rattling in my brain and I needed to put it down and I LOVED writing this. perry coming back to aew ruined my life, I am a punk stan for life no matter what that man does but uhm I am also loving what they are doing with the elite end jack so ✨hi✨ hello, I am a reformed woman with a new boo, don't come for me :) enjoy 💕

Trigger Warning/s: smut, hate sex, revenge sex if you squint, unprotected sex (as per usual, don't take this as example, follow your sexed! peeps), they call each other names a lot, swearing, chocking, pleasure play, ofc slaps and scratches jack repeatedly, daddy kink? (not really as such but still included), buckets of angst

Masterlist

He pushed her rudely against the wall, flattening himself against her back. His arms were like tight branches caging her, making it impossible to move and to resist him. Not that she had any wish to do so. Not really.

Jack pushed a hand through her dark hair, grabbing a handful and pulling, making her bend for him only so he could push his face into her neck. The way he inhaled her scent like he was a bloodthirsty animal, made her shiver. JJ had to bite down on her tongue hard not to melt and whine. She wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she liked it.

He was a greedy motherfucker though, and was clearly taking it as a challenge. If she wanted to put up a fight, he was ready to take her on. His other hand travelled freely under her skirt, where he pushed his fingers unapologetically between her legs.

This time, JJ couldn’t hold back a hiss. She hated herself for the way her body easily reacted to him. She rolled her hips on him, arching her back under his hold, welcoming his touch with pure heat. JJ resented the pool of hot desire gathering in her lower abdomen, making it so obvious to them both how much the fight she was pretending to pull was already won.

She felt his damn smug grin growing on his lips, as he pressed it on her neck. “You want this, don’t you, little one?”

“Fuck you,” she spitted out, only prompting him to shut her up biting down on her collarbone, immediately suckling on her soft skin, already making her see stars. Again, she found herself thinking how pathetic she was when she had to suffocate the need to whine and beg to have more.

He wasn’t done though, just like he could read her like an open book, Jack followed the column of her neck with his tongue, collarbone to her ear, where he pressed his cocky smile. “No, baby. But I’ll gladly fuck you,”

Deep down, she knew he was only doing it to stick it up to her dad. And she wished she was strong enough not to care. She may have hidden it well, but she hated how her heart broke anytime she remembered how things were. In all the hypocrisy of her behaviour, she resented knowing he was only using her and being fine with it because being with him that way was better than getting nothing at all.

How she wished it could be enough to let her move on and forget about him.

They had something going on throughout the summer of last year. It was still a new thing and they hadn’t gone public with it, but whatever they had it was real. She had fallen for him. And then it was over just as quickly.

She fought like hell against the magnetism pulling her towards him. She tried to suppress every emotion connecting her to him for months now, and it worked as soon as she didn’t have to see him. When they were worlds apart, no matter about the drama, no matter about the gossiping, no matter about the tight position she was constantly being put into since her father was fired and she chose to stay in AEW, it was easy. As soon as she was safely tucked in America and he was in Japan, it was ok – she managed to ignore it. But everything fell apart as soon as their paths crossed again.

JJ only needed to see him once. It was a quick instance through the backstage. Just a glance from across the empty corridor and her entire world fell apart.

She wanted so desperately to hate him. She wished to cancel from her memory everything they had going on back through last summer. But she couldn’t. She was only a hypocrite.

And Jack knew exactly how to exploit it.

Jack let go of her hair and wrapped his hand around her throat, making her bend against him almost unnaturally, enough so he could look at her in the eye. His hold was surprisingly tender. Before she could even think to talk back, he started massaging her cunt, easily finding her clit through the thin material of her panties. His egomaniac grin was large and annoying, and so pretty it made it hard for her to stay sane.

He tutted, shaking his head slowly only for the satisfaction of being patronizing. “Look at you,” the way he was looking at her with his sharp, dark eyes made her want to smack him. “You are such a mess already,” JJ rolled her eyes in the back of her skull, pushing her hands on the wall, desperately clawing at it to find support. “Soaked,” he hissed slowly, letting the letters roll on his tongue. He proved his point by pushing a finger along her slit, gathering her slick on his digits like it was a prize he just won.

She tried with every inch of her strength not to moan, still shivering against and clawing her fingers on the wall, as if she was trying to dig her nails into the plaster.

She was enslaved by the pleasure he was giving her so effortlessly. And it wasn’t enough. Not even remotely. Her body desired so much more, aching for him, responding to him like she did for no other. She couldn’t even hide away from the memory of the connection they once had, it was printed all over her skin, all over her face, all over her heart. The edge between what was good and proper and what was bad and forbidden was easily forgotten now. She needed to have everything he had to give, to be used until he was tired and done with her. And then she was ready to beg for more.

“How disappointed would daddy be to know you are such a little slut for me, uh?” Jack whispered into her ear, fishing for a reaction that JJ didn’t miss to give.

“You are an asshole,” anger fired through her, “I hate you.”

As soon as she tried to oppose him and fight her way off his hold, she realised she had just fallen deeper into his trap. He was ready to catch her just like a spider watching a bug getting tangled in his web.

He took her attempt to push him off herself as an invitation to handle her. Jack turned her around so they could face each other but before he could do or say anything else, JJ reacted without thinking clearly, only responding to the situation with the adrenaline shooting through her. She slapped him like she meant it and enjoyed seeing him turn his head, taking the hit.

Jack stood still only a second, and then he was on her once more. He pushed her against the wall and, releasing an angry grunt, he grabbed her wrists and trapped them both with his hand, pushing her arms above her head.

“I will say this only once, little one,” he began looking down at her. JJ was crossed by a shiver, lost in the moment, distracted by the way his little eyes glimmered and how his lips trembled. He looked dark, handsome and desperate in a way that made her skin crawl. She didn’t respond to him with words but raised her chin, inviting him to continue. “I’ll give you the chance to say no and get away. But you’ll have only now. Tell me to fuck off now. Tell me you hate me now, and I’ll believe you,” for a moment she thought to see a more fragile side of him, hiding behind the sharpness of his gaze. “After, I won’t take seriously any of your attempts to fight me after this moment, understood?”

She knew exactly what he meant and what he wanted from her. He wanted her consent to do whatever he wanted and to make sure he wasn’t overlooking the fights she might put up. His words were supposed to sound somewhat threatening, and yet JJ found it so hot it made her abdomen tremble.

That was the point of no return.

She was getting lost in the eyes of a man who was singlehandedly able to ruin her career and her life. Crossing that line meant everything she stood for and all of her integrity was to be destroyed just to be with him one night, everything that would come tomorrow would have been a consequence she would have to face alone. And yet, doing otherwise was out of the question.

She loved her father. She had fought so hard to defend him from everyone and never once she thought to turn her back on him. He had given her everything and did his best to raise her properly. And she was proud to be his legacy. JJ Punk was a warrior just like he was and she was just as opinionated and inconvenient at times. But she was ready to turn her back on him to follow her silly little heart just because she couldn’t take yet another fight. Not that fight, anyway.

She acknowledged Jack’s wish and remained silent and docile, flattening herself against the wall, waiting, looking right back at him.

“Damn it, baby,” his tone was now a relieved whisper. He dived on her in a second, catching her lips in an impatient, famished kiss. JJ immediately melted against him and released a pleasureful sigh, welcoming his pressing tongue into her mouth with ease. She didn’t even try to fight him. He let go of her wrists only to wrap his hands solidly around her hips, squeezing her into his hold just to feel her. “You are mine now,” he huffed into her mouth. Tasting his breath on her tongue gave her a hot shiver that rippled on her skin and through her body, nesting right into her core.

As soon as her hands were free, JJ pushed them both into his hair, giving in to the craving to feel his soft, wild curls in between her fingers. Loosening his manbun was easy enough and she enjoyed watching his hair pop around him, making him look like a glorious lion. She then followed his jawline, caressing his thick, dark beard with her index, watching him raise his chin for her.

JJ smiled, imitating his smug grin. “I like this new look,” she then pushed up on his chin, making him bend his head and expose his neck only to toy with him. “It makes you look even more despicable.”

He hissed. “As soon as you like it, little one, I don’t care what you think of me.”

“No?” JJ pulled on his chin so he could look at her. “You don’t want to know? Not even a little curious? That’s not like you to mind your own business. My daddy must have taught you how to shut up.”

His nostrils flared. She knew how sore that wound still was, just as much as she knew he couldn’t stand her dad, and she was ready to exploit his spite, again, just to toy with him like a cat with a mouse. He wasn’t the only one able to exploit situations in the room.

“Don’t mistake my compliancy, little one,” he warned her, “I only care to fuck you until I have strength. I plan to make you come until you’ll beg me to stop. And then some more. Until I make you scream my name loud and clear, making you like it so much you’ll crawl back to me for more even despite your stupid daddy wishes.”

JJ’s lips twitched. “Son of a bitch,” his words still had the intended effect on her, making her knees weak “You are disgusting,” she started as her hands slid under his leather jacket, “so full of yourself it's embarrassing.” Her words didn’t match her actions as she pressed her palms on his chest, greedily feeling his muscles under her palms, “I hate you.” Jack nodded and helped her remove his jacket, pressing his lips on hers in a quick kiss. He wasn’t trying to shut her up. He was proving a point.

“You need a humbling lesson,” she continued as soon as he left her mouth only to follow her jawline. He only replied with a small hum and latched to her neck, sucking hard on her the sensitive skin under her ear.

JJ rolled her eyes and released a sigh. Instead of fighting him off, she hung on his shoulders, willingly accepting the hickey he seemed determined to mark her with. “The shit you pulled in Chicago was ridiculous,”

“You didn’t like it?” He wondered, pushing her skirt up around her hips. “And yet I put so much attention in the show I put up for you. Chicago certainly did.” He cupped his hands around her ass, squeezing her soft flesh into his palms.

“Bullshit,” JJ spit out, “that’s my city. My father’s city. You do not get to come back all so suddenly and shit all over that on a whim,”

“Hardly a whim, your sweet daddy almost ruined my career.”

“Because you can’t shut up, ever.”

“Thank god,” Jack pulled back to look down at her, a large grin printed on his lips making his dimple pop. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here about to fuck Pepsi Phil’s sweet, little daughter, would I?”

“Shut up.” JJ grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him into a kiss, deciding to suffocate their bickering because there was no winner in that argument. She was done talking. She was done thinking.

Jack pulled her off the wall and they both stumbled across the room removing various pieces of clothing from each other. JJ let her jeans mini-skirt pool at her feet and then accepted Jack’s impatient hands removing her top. She did the same with him, almost ripping his t-shirt off him only so she could dig her nails into his chest, willingly leaving marks.

He then pushed her down on the mattress, proudly standing by the edge of the bed, fiddling with his belt, looking down at her. He looked so pretty it was hard for her to remain sane. But, after all, what did she need sanity for when she had just betrayed every drop of her integrity?

She stretched underneath his gaze, letting him feast on her naked skin, basking in the hunger that consumed his dark eyes. “Fuck, baby, you are just as beautiful as I remembered.”

“I bet you spent all your time thinking about me,” she teased him pulling a presumptuous smile.

“You don’t know the end of it, little one,” he began. The way his gaze softened, looking at her like she was a precious thing he had lost and just found, both surprised and terrified her.

“Shut up,” she quickly barked back, not willing to accept his sweetness. That was an entirely different level of temptation she just couldn’t take on. Opening that door would have only dragged her down deeper into the waters she was already drowning into. “You should put that mouth to better use, scapegoat.”

Any trace of softness he may have had looking at her was gone in an instant. His features hardened and his gaze darkened as he looked at her like she was his prey.

He leaned on her and gently pulled her underwear off, hinting to her to raise her hips for him. She damned his soft, attentive touch. And more than that, she damned herself for finding it so exhilarating.

“Open those pretty legs for me, little one,” he hinted tapping on her knee, “let me see how much you want me.” She wished not to be so lost under his spell, but there was nothing she could do. JJ did as he asked, fighting against the slight awkward shyness of knowing to be completely naked underneath his attentive dark gaze.

“Such a desperate, lost, little girl,” he continued, standing above her.

The cold air that hit her hot, soaked core gave her a shiver, making her hiss. She felt exposed and harmless under his dreadful look and yet didn’t have the strength to fight against his wish. He wanted her so bad his greed was clear on his face.

Jack licked his lips looking at her without shame. “Such a pretty pussy,” he cooed slowly getting on his knees. “Now, let me taste it. You want it, don’t you?”

JJ knew what he wanted and didn’t give him the satisfaction. She broke eye contact and rolled her head to the other side, facing away. That only seemed to amuse him as a soft chuckle vibrated through his chest. “Don’t be rude with me, baby. I’ll make you regret it,” his words were a soft threat. He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed by her ankles and then, still dissatisfied, he didn’t let go of her. His hands hooked around her right leg, softly pulling it closer to his face, just so he could kiss her ankle, brushing his lips across her joint. “You know I will,” he continued, rubbing his nose on her calf following her leg up and pressing his lips just above her knee and then again on the inside of her thigh. His beard tickled her sensitive skin, making her twitch.

JJ grabbed the sheets, biting down on her lower lip and deciding to be stubborn.

“You should be nice to me and I’ll be nice right back at ya,” he followed her other leg with a hand, his touch barely there, just enough to make her crave it and not enough to let her feel it. “But if you continue this way, I’ll make you beg me until you cry,” as he kept nuzzling his face on the inside of her thigh, JJ was crossed by a shiver that shook her deeply, making her hips buck up even before she could think to control herself.

Jack pressed his grin into her sensitive skin, hovering so close to her centre and yet, not enough, tracing back along her leg, torturing her. “Look at you, baby,” he cooed, “I could have you begging in a second, right? You know it too, I can tell.”

JJ was crossed by another shiver, fighting against everything not to look at him. It was a game of principles now. A challenge. She knew he was getting more and more impatient with every second she made him wait for it, and she may have had to pay for it later, but she liked the idea of annoying him. She wanted to slip under his skin just as much as he did with her.

“Don’t be this way,” he still cooed, this time, as his lips crossed the inside of her thigh, he bit down on her soft skin first branding her with a bitemark and then he latched to it, sucking hard on her only to leave another red mark on her skin. JJ couldn’t contain a whimper, as her hands automatically travelled to his hair. When she bucked her hips up again, desperately trying to find release, Jack guided her to throw her legs around his wide shoulders and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I do not need your words to know you need me so much,” he huffed raising his head to look at her. “It’s so clear, you aren’t hiding anything from me, little one.”

“Then why do you need me to say it?” She wondered between gritted teeth, finally looking down at him.

Jack’s grin was infuriating. “Because I wanna hear it,”

“Fuck,” JJ let her head fall backwards, only feeling his hot breath crossing her most sensitive skin was making her lose her mind.

“Just say it, baby,” he lulled as his palms opened on her abdomen, caressing her belly. “Say it for me, no one else needs to know, just me.”

His voice was tempting and inebriating. Feeling his touch and his breath on her skin was enough to condemn her. JJ hated herself, she wished to have more integrity than that. Maybe some more control. She was convinced her pride would have lasted longer, instead of crumbling right in front of her to his first demand. She was so pathetic she thought she deserved it.

She bucked her hips up, hissing avidly and then she gave up, nodding. “Fine. I do. I want it. You. I want you,” she couldn’t even think straight anymore. She looked away, trying to hide how confessing that made her blush. “And now shut up,”

“Oh, I’ll shut up,” a low, satisfied chuckle grew from his chest and rolled over her, giving her a shiver as she felt him positioning himself. “Look at me, JJ,” she obeyed even before she realised what his words meant. Jack whipped out a sharp grin, looking up at her from in between her legs. God, he looked so pretty and wild. No one needed to know how weak she was for him. His dark eyes glimmered like the ones of a feral animal. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off me, I want you to watch the way I’m gonna eat you out, a’right?”

She had no strength to nod but kept her eyes on him and watched the way he fixed her legs around his shoulders. Jack’s smile didn’t disappear. “Use your words, little one, tell me you understand that if you look away, I will stop.”

“Yes, I understand,” she huffed impatiently, feeling her body stretch and tense under an invisible force pressing on her. “Jack, please,”

He gave her exactly what she asked for. Exactly what she needed the second he heard her whisper his name. He leaned in on her and pressed his cocky grin on her cunt. As soon as she felt his mouth on her, JJ’s mind dissolved completely. She melted away in a stream of pleasure that spread across her like warm honey.

Everything else disappeared. All the time, all the things that had happened, nothing mattered but being close to him right now. And JJ found it freeing, like a boulder had rolled off her chest.

Like he was starved, Jack sucked and licked avidly on her tender, hot flesh, cleaning up her slick and demanding more. His hands were solidly wrapped around her hip and thigh, but not to cage her. If anything, he was guiding her to buck her hip and fuck his face. His dark eyes never let go of hers as he eagerly watched the pleasure shaping her face, welcoming her soft moans like music.

Quickly, pleasure started to gather in her stomach, heavily pressing down on her making it hard to breathe. As her body stretched like a rubber band, JJ found it impossible to control herself and forgot about her stipulation with Jack, letting her head fall backwards.

He immediately lifted his face up, not willing to show mercy. “What is it, little one?”

A shiver crossed her as cold air hit her, making her hiss like a snake. The sudden interruption made her go feral as she looked down at him, exposing her teeth like a rabid dog. It didn’t last long though, she quickly melted into submission as soon as she noticed the way he was studying her. He ate her up with his gaze. His cheeks were blushed and his beard covered in her slick, making her chest rumble with pride. “Please, don’t stop,” she begged softly.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss into her inner thigh, squeezing her soft flesh with his fingers. “Then look at me,” his beard tickled her, giving her a shiver that made her head roll back once more.

“I am sorry,” she explained trying to find some lucidity, “It’s only your fault.”

Jack chuckled, genuinely amused. “You are close, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I am,” she caught her breath, “please, I won’t look away. I promise.”

Since her words were followed by her locking eyes with him, again Jack was ready to reward her. “Good,” he lowered himself on her, “I wanna watch you come on my face,” he mumbled latching on her clit, sucking her flesh into his hot mouth. No mercy showed. His hot breath and tickling beard first and then his mouth left her breathless.

This time, JJ fought against the need to let herself go completely and looked at him, not letting his gaze go. If he wanted to watch her, she would have given him a show. She pushed her hands into his hair, tugging at his curls as pleasure quickly mounted inside of her, wilder than before.

There was something eternally damning her soul about the way she loved to see the pale skin of her thighs contrasting with the golden tone of his shoulders. The satisfaction of having his face pressed between her legs was intoxicating, just like the idea of how beautiful he was, with his big loose hair falling softly on her skin. It wasn’t only that, it was also in the way he held her and how his fingers dug into her flesh, making her wish he left marks. It was in those dark eyes she wished to drown into.

She wished she wasn’t that weak – but she was discovering to be an entirely different person from what she always believed. And she wasn’t proud of it. But she couldn’t stop.

Following the rhythm of her hips and the quickness of her breath, Jack read her body language confidently and traced two fingers to her slit, pushing in only one at first and then both. JJ welcomed his digit with a whimper, biting down on her lower lip.

“Fuck, you are so tight, baby,” he grunted proudly against her sensitive flesh, not losing any more time and fucking her with his fingers and mouth following an incessant rhythm until she came undone against his face.

JJ cried her pleasure out loud, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling at it, only encouraging Jack to continue, guiding her through her highest and right into overstimulation, ignoring the way her body was shaking and trembling. This time, when she tried to escape him, Jack pushed down on her hips, immobilizing her under his torture.

“Shit,” she huffed pulling his hair, “Jack,” whimpering his name only got him to grunt into her cunt pumping his fingers in and out of her relentlessly. “Stop,” her voice was shaken and weak, just like her attempt to get him off. And the longer it took, the more pleasure started to grow inside of her again, and the harder it was for her to remain sane. This time it felt more erratic and violent. She had the irrational fear she wouldn’t survive this new wave hitting her. JJ had to press her feet into his shoulders to get him off her and, even then, he didn’t seem at all willing to follow her wish. His gaze was completely lost in his selfish desire.

Jack rudely wiped her slick off his face as best he could and then climbed across her, still fucking her with his fingers. His thumb took the place of his mouth as he massaged circles on her clit.

“Give me another, little one, I know you have it in you.” He pushed her under him on the mattress avidly watching the way she bent and stretched for him, all consumed by the pleasure he was giving her.

JJ had nowhere to run and there was nothing she could do and, even though she wasn’t going to be grateful, part of her was loving it. She had the tools to make him stop. She knew she only needed to look away, and yet she couldn’t. Not anymore.

She came again and this time it was her the one riding her own pleasure on his fingers.

“Yes, baby,” he cooed, “such a good girl. So hot for me, uh?” He kept praising her in words that got easily lost in between the waves of pleasure he just gave her.

She dug her nails into his shoulders scratching him some more as she pulled him down on her, suffocating her louder moans into a famished kiss. Tasting her own flavour in his mouth made her tremble, making her wish to mark him more, in every way possible. He was hers.

This time Jack helped her ride her highs allowing her to come off it, slowly easing her. However, as soon as he was done, his hand traced her leg, guiding her to hook it around his waist as he pressed his hips impatiently against her, ignoring how uncomfortable the rough material of his jeans could feel for her. A small whimper left his chest as he rubbed himself against her.

JJ’s mood changed quickly. She surely wasn’t done with him but he didn’t need to know the extent of how desperately she needed him. Not just yet. His ego was already massive and she had just fed him enough to let him think he had won her over.

Pushing him off her, she dug her nails into his chest, scratching him with the intent of leaving a mark. Jack grunted and, as he tried to catch her hands to stop her, JJ slapped him once more only to feed on his annoyance. She laughed in his face as Jack grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, pushing her underneath him.

“This little kitty needs her nails trimmed, uh?” His grin was quick to pop back on his lips. He used it like a weapon, knowing it was annoying her.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, only playing to fight his hold. The rest of her body spoke louder as she bent her legs around Jack’s sides and stretched underneath him.

“What are you trying to prove?” He looked into her eyes, “That you don’t like me?” His hold on her wrists came loose as he pressed his open hand across hers, “that you despise me?” He crossed his fingers with hers and JJ found herself holding onto him like a lifeline. She held her breath, hanging from his lips. “That you hate the way I make you feel?”

“Yes. All of the above,” she hissed at him, raising her head closer to his.

Jack’s lips hovered across her mouth. “Sorry,” he began, brushing his lips against hers, making her taste their kiss, “If I could be someone else, I’d give that to you. But you gotta settle for what I’ve got instead.”

There was an underline of disappointment in his words. Something sounded off as if he was genuinely hurt by her. And it tore her heart into pieces.

Their game was supposed to be that they hated each other and were about to have some good angry sex and forget about it right after. When did he decide to change the game?

She could deal with the shame of having sex with him. It was easier to accept. Everyone had needs, after all, right? But JJ couldn’t deal with the idea of still having strong feelings for him. How could she look at herself in the mirror knowing that deep down the only thing she wanted to do was to cancel out everything she had said just to pull him to her chest and cradle him softly, whispering to his ear that everything was ok.

Fucking pathetic. Especially since she was convinced it was still a stupid game to him. He was proving a point to her and to her father.

“Just don’t make me look at your face again,” she hissed letting her head fall backwards, distancing herself from his lips. “I can’t stand you.”

She hoped her words would hurt him. Part of her wanted to hurt him just to reflect the way she was hurting. Pretending to be a cold, selfish bitch was easier than having to deal with being aware of how deeply she was betraying her own pride and her father.

Jack nodded, granting her wish. The calm sadness in his eyes came and went in a second. One moment he accepted defeat and the second he was back being feral. His eyes burned with a new desire for conquering. “Don’t worry, little one,” He pulled her and turned her over on her belly like she was a lifeless doll, pressing her down on the mattress, not caring for her comfort. “You won’t have to look at me for long,”

Jack wrapped his hands around her waist and, again, squeezed her in between his palms only to feel her body. He then prompted her hips up for him, pushing a hand across her lower back, making her bend for him. “Good girl,” he still praised softly as she moulded underneath his touch. “Let me see that ass.” His words were followed by a slap. And then another. He hit her harder the second time, enjoying seeing her flinch. Her soft gasp encouraged him to then massage her tender flesh, squeezing her ass into his palm. “You still like it, don’t you?”

JJ was already grasping at the bedsheets, keeping her chest pressed down on the mattress just like he wanted her. “Yes,” she sighed softly, bending her back even more for him as her lower abdomen grew heavier with expectation. The cool air hitting her most sensitive, exposed skin was torturous, bringing her to bite her lower lip not to pathetically whine.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed softly. He leaned in above her kissing her back. JJ shivered feeling his lips tracing her spine. She may not wanted it, she may not liked it, but it felt so intimate and so right she was ready to give everything up for him.

She already did.

She heard the jingling noise of his belt coming undone and shivered when she realised what was coming as he took off the last clothes that were left.

Jack grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her up just so he could press his face by her ear. “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that ok?”

“As soon as you do it hard,” she teased popping her ass back, pressing herself against him. A satisfied smile crossed her lips as she felt his heavy shaft pressing against her hip.

He hissed against her shoulder and then pulled back so suddenly she found herself missing the feeling of his hot skin on hers. He gently pressed a hand in between her shoulders and guided her to press her chest back on the mattress. Once he had her positioned like he wanted, he guided himself to her core, holding his hip solidly with his other hand.

They both moaned as he rubbed his cock against her wet folds, letting her have a taste of how hard he was for her. “You are so fucking wet, baby,” he huffed and kept going, coating himself in her juices, teasing her.

“Just for you,” she admitted, hating herself for it a second later.

Jack rewarded her by positioning himself and slowly pushed the tip in, going at torturing her some more. The whimper he released slipped across her, giving her a shiver. It was a pretty sound she had no intention of forgetting. He then proceeded to go all the way, moving still excruciatingly slow, but filling her up and stretching her so deliciously JJ couldn’t contain a victorious smile.

“Yes,” she praised, receiving a pleasureful huff in return.

Jack squeezed her in between his hands and took longer than a moment to enjoy feeling her underneath him. She felt his dark eyes cruise her body, studying every inch of her tattooed skin.

“Baby, please,” she whined, not entirely sane anymore. She didn’t even care about fighting him anymore. Her pride was forgotten. Now, she only wanted him, nothing else mattered.

“Fuck,” Jack huffed and then grabbed her hair, pulling it to make her lean up so he could press his face in her neck once more. “Call me baby again,”

JJ melted into a smile and bent under him, giving him free access to her neck. “You like that, don’t you?”

At first, Jack replied bucking his hips against her in a quick thrust that hit her suddenly and deeply, leaving her breathless. Then, his hand slid around her throat, squeezing her softly. “Call me baby one more time, little one, and I won’t leave your side ever again,” his lips were so close to her ear that it made it hard for her to remain focused.

It was supposed to be a threat. Part of their game maybe. But JJ didn’t find it scary. She didn’t perceive it as yet another confrontation. It was a dangerous declaration that left the ball in her court. And she had already decided she was going for eternal damnation.

“Baby,” She purred, stretching against him. It was the sex. She wasn’t thinking clearly.

A soft grunt shook his chest as he finally gave in and started moving his hips, starting to fuck her just like she demanded. He slipped in and out of her with ease, quickly finding his rhythm, and JJ was ready to take him on. The way he moved inside of her, hitting the right spot every time, made her thoughts fog up. She was pure emotion now, burning only for him.

Jack’s hand stretched around her jaw, pushing her head to turn, making her bend underneath him, enough so he could have access to her lips and steal a kiss. She was ready to match his hunger, devouring his lips. JJ suffocated her moans into his mouth, only prompting him to squeeze her more solidly underneath him as the rhythm of his thrusts quickened.

“Call me daddy,”

“You are disgusting,” she huffed, deciding to try and resist him, only for the pleasure of contradicting him. Only to fight him some more, just enough not to give him the satisfaction right away. She craved his reaction. She craved the fight.

He chuckled into her ear. In response, he grabbed her throat in his palm, “C’mon, little one, do it for me,” the way he was begging her made him both so pathetic and so hot JJ couldn’t take it.

“And let your ego grow some more?” A sharp smile grew on her lips, “No, sir.”

Jack’s hold on her throat became harder. He squeezed the breath out of her, pushing his face into her neck. His thrusts were incessant, taking her breaths and linear thoughts away. “JJ,” he sounded like he was begging at first, “I’ll make you regret it if you don’t,” she felt his grin pressed on her jaw, “you know I will.”

“Fuck you,” she wheezed, keeping her fight up.

Jack wasn’t done either. His hand moved from her throat to grabbing a handful of her hair as he pushed her down on the mattress rudely. His other hand was firmly grabbing her hip, guiding her to bounce off him following his frenzied rhythm as he proceeded to fuck her even harder. From that angle, JJ felt his cock so deep inside of her that she felt its hits shake her stomach. She pressed her face into the mattress, suffocating the loud moans he ripped out of her.

It was supposed to be torturous; he was using pleasure to make her pay, but it wasn’t making her want to give in even an inch.

“C’mon, baby,” he was back begging. His hand moved from around her hip all the way across her abdomen and in between her legs where he started to massage her clit skilfully. “Give it to me once. I want to hear the pleasure I’m giving you bend your voice.”

JJ hissed. She couldn’t think clearly, pleasure had completely taken over her. Part of her registered his words and knew exactly what kind of twisted, dirty bastard he was being, but she would have lied if she said she cared enough to actually find offence in it or consider it crossing the line.

She pushed herself up, finding him ready to catch her and help her move. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his chest, finding his rightful place into her neck socket, as JJ pushed an arm back, grabbing on his hair, he suckled on her skin, only enhancing her pleasure. His small whimpers didn’t help.

“You are sick,” she spit out. It was supposed to be an offence but the way her voice bent under a moan gave it a different vibe.

Jack nodded against her. “Yes, baby. Just for you. You drive me insane.”

“Not me,” she huffed, “you are fighting a war against my father,”

“Yes. I am. But he isn’t here. It’s you and me now.”

“Fuck,” JJ rolled her eyes, letting a wave of pleasure take over her body, wiping away her thoughts entirely. She didn’t know the extent of the consequences of what he just said. He had such a way with words, knowing what to say to make her do what he wanted. She couldn’t trust him. And yet she was ready to sing for him. She didn’t want to think about how much her heart was sealing around the feeling she had tried so desperately to forget.

“C’mon, babygirl,” he lulled softly, his soft voice brushed on her ear, making her go insane.

Pleasure-bent words started forming and common sense escaped her mind. JJ clenched her jaw, trying to fight the desire to give him anything he wanted, but she was too high and too lost in her pleasure to keep it up for longer than a moment.

She let go of the act as soon as another powerful wave of pleasure shook her body and senses.

“D-daddy,” she whined, scared to say at first. Then, immediately finding the way he approved of it with a deep moan so rewarding. “Fuck me, daddy,”

Jack pressed a gloating smile into her shoulder and gave her exactly what she craved.

Her pleasure was growing fast, mounting inside of her with such violence JJ had absolutely no control over herself.

“Hold on,” she huffed unsure how she managed to put words together. “J-Jack?” she wrapped a hand on his wrist, both trying to find something to hang on and to get his attention.

He was ready to catch her. “Tell me, little one,”

“I need-” her words were broken by a whimper as he didn’t miss a hit on her already shaking body. “Oh, fuck,” she hissed, digging her nails into his skin, “I need to look at you.” She continued, gathering all her strength to produce sensed words. “Let me look at you, baby,”

Jack seemed surprised by her words just as much as she was. She was aware she had just contradicted what she had ordered him earlier, but they both seemed not to care about any of it anymore.

He obliged her wish and helped her turn around and climb on his figure. JJ straddled him and, hanging on his shoulders, she slid back on his cock, welcoming him with a sigh. A content smile appeared on her lips as she looked straight into his dark eyes. There was nowhere to hide anymore.

She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then again, his lips, as Jack closed his strong arms around her figure, guiding her to ride him to the rhythm he had decided, fucking her quick and hard, burying himself deep inside of her every time, just like she had asked.

With every hit, she was pushed closer and closer to her edge, to the point she found herself hovering over insanity, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving her, making her feel like she was drunk.

JJ pushed her hands into his hair, bringing him to bend his head just so she could have the impression of towering over him, diving into his eyes full of lust. “Don’t hold back,” she warned with an encouraging nod.

He didn’t. He gave her exactly what she asked for, exactly what she needed. As soon as he felt her stretch against him, gasping for air, Jack pulled one of his smug grins looking proudly as pleasure morphed her face. “Come for me, little one,” he cooed softly, ready to hold her tight the second she was hit by her orgasm.

She called for his name as pleasure washed over her, leaving her breathless and senseless. But Jack had no mercy for her and didn’t allow her to have a moment to breathe. She fucked her right over her edge and kept going, selfishly chasing his own peak.

When he started to reach his own edge, his fingers dug into her skin, making her bounce on him relentlessly, Jack nuzzled his face into her neck socket, suffocating his softer pleasureful whimpers against her throat. His voice vibrated through her, making her lose her mind.

JJ was nothing but welcoming. This time she was the one holding him and when his strength started to weaken, she took over riding him and pushing him over his edge, avidly taking everything he had to give, milking every drop of his pleasure.

When the waves of their pleasure calmed down and the fog dissipated, they still held on to each other, catching their breaths. Jack softly brushed his lips on her neck praising her as his hands cruised on her back all the while JJ pressed soft kisses on his forehead.

Jack laid her down on the mattress, tenderly assuring she had a pillow under her head and then rolled on her side. They were both still shaken and clearly not done with each other, but she was grateful to take a break.

“Good?” He wondered looking back up at her. For once, his egotistical self was gone, leaving space for a sweeter version looking to be reassured.

JJ smiled, nodding, still catching her breath. “So good,” her mind still felt hazed, to the point she purred and melted into a smile under his eyes, without thinking about the consequences. “I need a tall glass of water, though.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he pulled a sweet, sharp smile and winked flirtatiously, making her mind go completely blank and her heart pitter-patter in her chest. Damn him. “I just need to ask you something first,” he wondered as he toyed with her hand, looking at the way their fingers crossed. She suspected it was a way not to face her.

“Shoot,”

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you hate me.”

JJ huffed, feeling suddenly so uncomfortable she couldn’t sit still. Her eyes shot to the ceiling as she retracted her hand from his hold, feeling fear slither under her skin.

There was no harder question to be asked.

She did. And she didn’t.

She resented him because she considered him the reason why her heart was broken. And she resented herself because, despite everything, she couldn’t stick to her own anger. She was angry all the time; at herself, at her father, at the world, and at fate or God, even. But now she didn’t feel powered by that same fire that allowed her to continue going, now she felt pathetic.

“Why are you so committed to humiliating me?” She wondered with a tired sigh. She knew she was about to lose that war. “Have I not given you enough already? Can you not just accept me being here with you as assurance enough to feed your ego?”

“Is that what you think this is?” He sounded heartbroken. Jack cupped her face softly, making her look at him even when she didn’t feel like she had the strength to face him. “You think I’d be that cruel, little one?”

“Yes,” JJ looked into his eyes and got lost in the man she met, surprised to find him willing to show his more vulnerable side. This wasn’t the Jack she had learned to despise over the last few months. This wasn’t the smug motherfucker willing to burn the world down to get his revenge. This was the man she left months ago, as they broke off things without a word. One moment they were together, enjoying the idea of everything that could have been, and the next they were strangers.

God, his eyes. JJ was burning underneath his dark gaze. Jack had such sweet eyes, hiding perfectly all the emotions that laid underneath. They were the most beautiful, most dangerous eyes one could have.

“I think you want to win me like a prize,” She continued, knowing her words would hurt him. This time, she didn’t like it. “I think you wouldn’t mind me if I wasn’t JJ Punk. Can you blame me?”

“You are dead wrong if that’s what you think,” he caressed her cheeks, “I hate your father’s guts and yes, this,” he pointed between them, underlining their connection, “it is done in spite of him. But baby, hell if I’ll let him take the merit of the ways I’ve missed you.” Jack still hung on her before she could look away, trying to find something to say. “These past few months have been the hardest of my life,” he continued, hooked into her gaze, “I had to rethink everything about myself. And I had to do it alone. I thought I was done. I thought this dream of mine was finished. I have lost people left and right. For a time, I thought I was left completely alone. Everything changed for me. I sometimes can hardly recognise myself in the mirror. But I am who I need to be, now. I am who I was made to be,”

“I,” JJ took a small pause to breathe, finding it hard under his gaze and the weight of his words washing over her, “I understand that,”

“I am not finished,” he corrected her, “In all of this, I had only one constant to grasp. Only one thing didn’t change, and that was you. The way I felt about you. And I grasped to it. It kept me sane. It kept me close to who I used to be, even if I can’t be that man anymore.”

“Jack,” JJ gasped, suddenly terrified by his words, feeling a knot sealing her stomach. She tapped her fingers on his lips, trying weakly to shut him up, but he didn’t let her.

“I need you, JJ. I need you here, I need you always.”

“We can’t,” she gasped, her chest was shaking violently. His words and what they made her feel meant so much more than giving up her dignity to have sex. It was different. It was much more serious. Much more complicated. Prohibited. “Jack,” she grabbed his chin, trying to find something to hold onto before she could spiral into absolute panic. “I can’t betray my father.”

“I am not asking you to.”

“Being with you is already a pretty big ask,”

“But never once I dared to ask you to change your opinion about me or your father, did I?” He looked into her eyes, “I’d never do that. I just need you. We can keep it a secret forever, I don’t care.”

She wanted to believe his words. She wanted to get lost in him and forget about everything else. Her heart was still aching for him and now, more than ever, she felt it skip out of her chest and dive into his to find anything to latch on and keep the illusion of what they were sharing alive.

But she couldn’t let herself get lost in that feeling. He was going to stab her in the back, she could feel it.

Yet, instead of putting her fears into thoughts and sensed words, JJ silenced them both, pulling him into a kiss. She had sold her soul that night, she just knew it. Nothing would have made sense ever again, she was the first betrayer. And she was ok with that. Sex had consumed every drop of her anger, leaving her exposed and defeated, hostage of all the feelings she never took the time to heal.

“I don’t hate you,” she then confessed against his lips, kissing him softly. She hated herself for it. As soon as those words came out of her, she regretted it just because she knew that even though she liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she had just condemned them both. “I can’t love you either,”

“I know,” Jack nuzzled his face into her neck, hiding from the world. “I would never ask that of you.”

Jack rolled on top of her, his hands already finding their way across her skin, their bodies moving attracted to each other by a silent magnetism.

JJ mirrored his movements and welcomed him, ready to bury all those feelings somewhere deep, hoping not to find them ever again. But she wasn’t quite ready to let go of him. She wondered if she would ever be. And she had her answer even before she could form the thought, as her arms branched tight around his shoulders.

Sex was the perfect compromise for them both to let them find each other and pretend to believe whatever made them feel better.

JJ pushed herself up and kissed him. It was a sad kiss. A desperate one. “I can’t trust you,” she whispered on his lips.

“That’s ok,” He kissed her back, this time deeper, stronger, making her feel it. “You shouldn’t.”

#jack perry #jungle boy jack perry #jack perry smut #jack perry fanfic #jack perry x ofc #aew fanfiction

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turbulenthandholding · 10 months ago

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👀 just wondering if you’re writing anything these days!

1. Hi, hello, thank you for the ask @anxietycroissant! ❤️

2. I am...or I am trying! I am about 16,000 words into what is probably going to be a pretty long fic. It's an unexpected pregnancy/speed-run-the-relationship Sydcarmy and I am happy to be writing it because it's what my brain wants to read but it alternately falls out of my head and gives me great angst. I had been pretty blocked for more than a week but 3000 words fell out of my head like nothing last night which was a nice surprise.

Excerpt (Syd and Carmy are at IKEA):

“Sammy, right? Weren't you Carmy's sous?”

Sydney looks up to see Claire standing before her. “Claire. Hi. It's Sydney, actually,” she says and rises. Claire's eyes fall to Syd’s abdomen. “And I'm his CDC now.”

“Oh, that's so cute!” Claire says, her eyes falling to Syd’s belly. “You finally got over your weird obsession with Carmy and moved on,” Claire says. “Congratulations!”

“Weird obsession?” Syd asks. She feels pinned again like she did the first night she met Claire during the reno, glared at for reasons Syd at least thinks she understands now. Jealousy, and this time, lingering anger at her breakup with Carmy, which Claire lobs at Sydney like a knife.

Syd struggles to respond. “Sorry...are you like here to look at a couch? Or like, eat some meatballs? Sorry.”

“How do you feel about a lingonberry juice box?” Carmy asks Syd as he returns, focused, unaware, unwrapping and inserting the straw as he moves to hand it to her. “Got some water too,” he says, finally engaging with the scene in front of him.

“Carm, hi,” Claire says, features pinching. Syd takes a sip from the straw.

“Uhh, hey, Claire,” Carmy returns. He slips his arm around Syd, possessive fingers digging into her hip. A united front.

“Just one…” Claire begins. “Did this, uh, overla…how far along are you?”

“Due at the end of February,” Syd says.

Claire calculates, glares at Carmy. “You didn't waste any time.”

Carmy shrugs.

“Well, this is just so fucking precious,” Claire says through clenched teeth. “I guess when you said you didn't have space for fun or enjoyment in your life, you really just meant you don't have space for me. Cool. Cool. That's just…I’ll see you around, Bear. Good luck with whatever.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and stalks off back towards the escalators.

“Uhh,” Syd says, before taking a last drink from her juice box. The lingonberry juice is good, a little tart cutting through the sweetness. The box scrunches and crunches in her hand and makes the sound that juice boxes do when they are finished. “Sorry, that was loud. And just like…sorry that, uh, this happened.”

(2.5 - I could probably use an alpha reader if any of my Sydcarmy mutuals wants to take a look and tell me if it's bad or that I'm crazy because it could very well be!)

3. I'm also working on a soul mark/soul scar Sydcarmy. It's probably about 3k words so far but I put it to the side because I realized I had a huge plot hole and haven't quite figured out how to come back from it yet.

Excerpt:

Sydney gets really good at applying foundation to her arms, pressing it in with setting powder to help keep it waterproof just in case. The number of tattoos gracing her arms has been growing exponentially over the last few months. There's a pyrex measuring cup holding the whole world, a couple of angels, a fish. S-O-U on the fingers of her hand. She's a senior in high school on track to graduate with honors and the body art would be a distraction, a mark against her. An indication that she's not serious enough to do anything other than make terrible decisions or jeopardize her future; a constant, tangible reminder that she doesn't have the grace about things like this than people whose skin is lighter than hers. She wishes she didn't care. But she does, so she covers them up every day in a routine that feels like it has become her religion. She wears button-down shirts with long sleeves secured at her wrists most days, even when the heat and humidity in Chicago are oppressive. Counts the seconds until she can go to the CIA where maybe the sight of Schrödinger’s tattoos (simultaneously hers and not hers) won't hold her back.

#thh writes #sydcarmy #sydcarmy fic #thank you for the ask <3 #anti claire bear

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thevindicativevordan · 2 months ago

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Since you read all of Ultimate Fantastic Four, what do you think of the series?

Gave me an understanding of why shows like Keeping Up With The Kardashians are popular. Something about following trashy people can be oddly compelling and entertaining. Ellis and Millar’s sections were the strongest of the run, with Carey only getting good towards the end. Ellis spends a lot of time “realistically” explaining how the powers of the Four work, and used that same approach to the Ultimate takes on Doom and the Negative Zone too. Millar in contrast is throwing out cool ideas to see what sticks (zombie F4, everyone gets superpowers, spiders that eat time travelers, Doom pulls a Superior Spider-Man on Reed) and doesn’t particularly care to explain in depth how any of it works. His is the most entertaining section of the UFF and the one where the premise really shines. You get to see the potential of a less squeaky clean F4 in terms of what stories can be told, all of the Four get character focus even if in the case of Sue and Johnny it only makes them more unlikable.

I already talked about Reed but regarding the other three:

Ben is more or less the same as his 616 counterpart. Pissed at Reed for his transformation, angsts over it and is terminally depressed, but when his team or world needs him he brings the clobbering. Thing’s best moments are ironically in the President Thor arc where he has no powers. Scene at that end where he beats the Super Skrull to death for genociding Earth is peak Thing. Ben Grimm rules no matter the reality.

Ultimate Johnny is a moron. A well-meaning moron with a (small) heart of gold to compensate for having no brains to be fair. He has some good moments like clueing Reed in that Sue likes him at the start of the series, and being willing to give up his powers if it means curing Ben as an apology for an incredibly asshole “joke” he plays on Ben earlier. But he remains a shallow fratbro for the entire run, with only the death of his father at the end of the series (thanks to Ultimatum) pushing him towards bettering himself. Bendis’ usage of him in USM is superior to how he’s used in UFF imo.

Another unintentional foreshadowing here that I loved. Sue goes on a mission to Siberia alone after Reed alienated himself from the rest of the team because he was obsessed with shooting the Cube. Sue gets shot down and Johnny blames Reed for it, threatening to burn Reed to death if Sue dies. Follows through on that threat after Reed DOES hurt Sue in Ultimate Doom! Within the arc itself Johnny comes across as an unstable prick, but people probably feel more inclined to side with him knowing what Reed will become. I however saw how you could feasibly make Johnny a bad guy, imagine a world where Sue does die and Johnny is the one to go off the deep end. Can’t see 616 Johnny ever breaking like that, but this guy could have.

Sue… is much, much worse than her 616 counterpart. Most writers, even great ones like Hickman, don’t know what to do with Sue. At best she’s the “mom” and that’s her entire character. She takes care of the kids and nags the rest of the team. Ultimate Sue being unmarried means that they can’t fall back on that so instead they make her whole personality being a woman. Mole Man and Namor are sex pests towards her, she gets kidnapped because one villain wants to use her to resurrect his wife and the other villain wants to steal her powers because she thinks they’re wasted on Sue. Everything about her revolves around the men in her life, even breaking her and Reed up merely leads to a new permanent relationship between her and Ben.

Sue’s biggest fear is becoming her mom, who is a selfish asshole who abandoned the Storm family because she valued her career more than them. Suppose that means she’s attracted to Reed initially because her mommy issues made her think she could get Reed to pick her over science where she failed with her mom. She’s constantly showing off skin to titillate the readership. Arcs focused on her were the worst of the run, and that breakup scene at the end of UFF: Requiem managed to make her shooting down a marriage proposal at her dad’s funeral unsympathetic. All these legit reasons to break Sue and Reed up for good, and they went for the one that makes Sue as unlikable as possible. Yeah how dare Reed not prioritize saving you over saving the planet!

If UFF exists on a spectrum with Reed being morally sketchy even prior to his breakdown, and Ben essentially being the same as his 616 counterpart, Johnny and Sue are right in the middle with Johnny edging towards the heroic side and Sue leaning towards villainy. People have forgotten this but Ultimate Sue had two evil futures where she broke bad. One where she becomes Kang which was Fialkov trying to justify Reed’s transformation into Maker, and the other in a completely forgotten F4/X-Men crossover where she becomes an evil dictator in an alternate future after Johnny gets killed in Ultimatum, with Reed opposing her. God that entire story was a fever dream, on its own it’s mediocre as hell but every goddamn reveal hits ten times harder when you know what’s coming.

Damnit this was a punch straight to the gut. In said future Reed becomes Nihl, no matter what it seems he was destined to emulate one of the Four’s foes. Biggest takeaway from UFF for me is that I could buy Ultimate Reed, Sue, or Johnny breaking bad. All three are shitty people with poor emotional control and narcissistic elements to their personalities. Reed simply had the misfortune to be the one Bendis chose to shove into the deep end.

Ultimate X-Men is the only Ultimate series I haven’t read yet but right now I rate UFF as the weakest of the ones I have. It’s not bad by any means! Actually I quite enjoyed it depending on the arc. Unlike USM and Ultimates however I don’t think UFF does anything better than the mainline FF book. Tellingly that while MCU adaptions of Spider-Man and Avengers borrowed a lot from their Ultimate counterparts, the FF seem to be drawing entirely from 616. UFF works better as a contrast with the mainline rather than as an entry point to the franchise for new readers.

#ultimate fantastic four #ben grimm #johnny storm #sue storm #the thing #invisible woman #human torch #fantastic four

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onyichii · 8 months ago

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Dofus: Book 1 Julith a beautifully animated film that failed.

I haven't watched this movie in a long time but I think this movie COULD have done well. HOWEVER, TWO things fell short (for me).

1️⃣- Title. It has a BAD title. Terrible title. It should have been called something else. Something more appealing. More attention grabbing. I'm not good with titles myself but let's just say Dofus: The Guardian of the Ebony Dragon. That took me TOO LONG (40+ mins) to come up with. Titles are not easy but the current title doesn't stand out.

2️⃣- Rushed exposition. I didn't feel properly introduced to the world. If you're gonna sell a movie series you have to introduce the audience to your world properly, especially if it's fantasy AND if you want to make more of it. Think Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, we got to understand the world within the first movie.

I feel like this Dofus series should have been planned as a trilogy but starting with the stories of Julith and Jahash. Here is how I would have planned...

Part 1: Introduces the audience to the world of twelve, main 12 classes, and the lives of rivals Julith of Brakmar and Jahash of Bonta. It would be an enemies to lovers story (an action romance) on how they become guardians of their cities dofus (the ebony and ivory ones). It ends with Jahash and Julith falling in love, having a child (Joris), and dying. Whilst also giving a hint of evidence that Julith might be alive. Showing they had people against the unification of their rival cities. BONUS: Introducing the classes would get people (artists mostly) interested in making their own Dofus character and posting the art online further marketing it. And you could use it to introduce people to the game thus making more sales. 🧠 business brain. Part 2: Would be this movie (Dofus: Julith Book 1), focusing on their son, Joris, and how he finds out that his mother Julith is alive and out for revenge. And how he is connected to the ebony dragon/dofus somehow (or how he becomes it's new guardian like his mother). And blah blah blah Part 3: Would unveil the culprits behind the deaths of Jahash and Julith. and blah blah blah. And how Joris officially loses his adolescence in this discovery and grows up to be who we know him to be in Wakfu. Kind of a dark coming of age story.

That's how I would have structured it. If it was structured like this I would have been invested in this trilogy. It has romance, mystery, drama, action, and angst.

Was the movie good? It had GREAT animation, good action scenes, fun characters, but it needed more story, more exposition. More world building—To at least attract an audience who has NEVER heard of Dofus before. I would 100% watch this movie again!

To me, it feels like Tot wants to build something like Star Wars, One Piece, MCU, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones—A HUGE WORLD that people all over the globe will know and love.

However, the company lacks consistency. Ankama started off as a game company. Then they branched into animation and comics. Now they're using all forms of media to tell their story.

Having to play the game AND read the book AND watch the show/movie, is too much for the average consumer. I don't play games anymore. So now, I will miss something because I don't play the game?

Personally, I feel like there should be ONE form of media to keep track of the WHOLE story (while still making the shows/films/games). That format is BOOKS.

Books are a GREAT way to keep things linear and on track. At least with a book, even if you branch out to animation and get cancelled you can continue the book with the story as planned. And after you have finished the book, maybe someone likes your story and will want to pick back up the animation.

You should watch Dofus: Book 1 Julith for the animation and action scenes. The story is fine but needs more.

Upon little research i found out they did make books for Dofus: Book 1 Julith. IDK if it's good or what it's about but it does exist.

#wakfu #dofus #ankama #onyichii rants

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msnanu · 1 year ago

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Life Twist 10 | JJK

⏤ banner by the talented and sweet: @archivedkookie ❣

⏤summary ❧ After an enormous loss in your life and breaking a long relationship with your now ex boyfriend, you decided you needed a life twist. So you move into a new country to try restart your life and seek for your happiness. What you weren’t expecting was someone like Jungkook entering into your life as soon as you got to Seoul.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ jungkook x female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, 4 years age gap (reader is JK’s noona)

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ❧ 8.5K+

⏤ author’s note ❧ Angst is here 😔 I hate writing angsty chapters because I feel every emotion written on it honestly. Hope you enjoy reading it!! Please, let me know your thoughts 🙂 your opinions are really valuable for me 🙆

It had been a very long week for Jungkook. Spending most of it prepping the presentation of the new videogame design for his boss, a videogame that it's expected to be one of the biggest in the industry this year.

On the other hand, you had been holding things down at the office - you are sure that you have never been this often at the office since you moved to Seoul -, these last few days you were busy onboarding new employees since you were in the process of starting the supervision of new financial markets in the company therefore more responsibilities and tasks were being added to the team under your supervision.

The only time you'd had to spend with Jungkook was in the night when you'd crawl into bed and after he got cleaned up from working until late hours locked in his office like a caveman. He convinced you to stay this week at his place, that way he'd be able to at least sleep next to you every night. You'd kiss him dreamily, wrap him up safe in your warm arms and fall asleep.

By all rights, you should have been exhausted. You should have been ordering takeout and settling in on the couch to read the entire internet on your phone, your brain totally zombified. Instead, now that work was done for the night, you found yourself very ready to play.

You heard JK come in and drop his shoes in the rack before heading to the fridge for a beer. "Hi, honeeeey, I'm home" he called in the direction of the bedroom, a teasing note in his voice.

You took a little time putting on the final touches, so that when you emerged from behind the door, he had already lost his glasses, rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.

Today he had his final presentation, and you already knew that it went beyond great because he texted you earlier letting you know that his boss loved his design from start to end. You weren’t even surprised because he had showed you his designs asking for an “outside” opinion and even if you’re not familiarized that much into the videogame world, you were mesmerized by his talent and he made you feel so proud of him, you just knew his boss had to love it. And what a better way to end this long day than celebrating your 10th month anniversary?

When you finally got out of the bedroom, he was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, his sweating beer bottle on the table. He looked adorably rumpled and you wasted no more time crossing the room.

"Hey, my favorite designer" you said between kisses. "Happy 10th month anniversary"

His doe eyes looked at you from head to toes, gawking at the sight in front of him. "God, you look so hot, baby" he says while biting his lip and then grabs you from your waist and pulls you in for another deep kiss "Happy 10th month anniversary indeed"

He then hands you a beautiful Jasmine bouquet "I got you your favorites, gorgeous"

"Thank you, baby. I love them" you say giving him a little peck on his lips then stopping for a second "And I love you so much" while smiling at him fondly.

"I love you more, baby"

"There's no way, you know that already"

You both laugh and you immediately change the subject asking, "How was your day?"

"Please" he begged, kissing you again. "Talk to me about anything else, I think I had enough of my work this week"

You smiled and perched yourself on one of his thighs, your arm wrapping around his shoulders as your mouth met his for a deeper, longer kiss that left you breathless.

"Mmmmh" he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. "You, Ms. Y/L/N, are a stunning conversationalist"

"And you, Mr. Jeon, are an incurable smart ass" you answered, pressing your lips lovingly against his hair.

"You like that about me"

"Maybe" you admitted, a little breathily, distracted by what his mouth was doing on your skin. His hand found your knee, slipping just the tiniest bit under the hem of your skirt and you shivered.

His voice sounded slightly surprised and very, very interested as he asked, "Is this silk, baby?"

You wore tights sometimes but rarely pantyhose, so silk stockings were definitely something special. You made a little noise of confirmation and bit your lip as his hand inched up higher, slowly, slowly, until his fingertips brushed the bare skin of your thigh.

"Y/N" he said, his voice all raw desire, his fingers tracing slow circles, and you felt heat rush to your core.

All at once, he was in motion, standing you up and clutching you to him, kissing you intensely and intently as his hands untucked your shirt. You unbuttoned a few of his buttons and helped with some of your own and it seemed like nothing would be fast enough, but somehow both of your shirts were off and Jungkook's palms were running over the skin of your back and you were digging your fingers into his bare shoulders and all the while you were kissing, kissing, kissing.

Eventually, you had to breathe, gasping against his neck as he tugged down the zipper of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. He supported you as you stepped out of the pool of fabric and immediately got to his knees. He tilted his face up to you with a wolfish grin as he put his hands around your hips, tracing the outline of your silky lingerie.

You giggled a little as he trailed his fingers over and under the straps of your garter belt, following them down to the tops of your stockings.

"I just realized I'm wearing red," you said as his lips touched your lower belly, “and black,” you added as his fingers whispered over your knees, "like your su—" You lost your words in a moan as his hands came together to massage one of your calves. He smiled, his lip piercing rasping over you, as his fingers worked their way down to your ankle and skimmed back up lightly, both of you enjoying the whispery sensation.

"Sounds very tasteful" he said amusedly as he repeated his ministrations on your other calf.

You had learned very quickly that letting Jungkook feel his way led to nothing but good things for you. For you both. You were mentally adding to your list of erogenous zones as his warm hands caressed the backs of your knees. He was pressing open-mouthed kisses against your stomach and inching lower as his hands traveled upward over your thighs.

When his fingers bit into the curve of your ass, his tongue moving thick and slow against the slippery fabric between your legs, you swayed, unsteady with desire, clinging to him as best you could.

He was immediately back on his feet, holding you close. "You're a goddess," he whispered into your ear, and you flushed at the memory it surfaced as he kissed you. You moved your hands over his back, down to his delectable ass, the firm feel of him stoking the heat inside even higher, and you reached for his belt, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping.

He finished the job of stripping off his pants and then he was sliding around behind you, and you were putting your hands out to brace against the table. His face was in your hair as he curved his body against your back, bringing his hands around your hips and up over your stomach until he was cupping your breasts.

He worked open the front clasp of your bra and you bit your lip as his fingertips traced over your nipples. You ground back against him and felt a rush of satisfaction when he groaned in pleasure. You tilted your head, letting your hair cascade to one side so he could have proper access to your neck, and he didn't disappoint, his tongue and lips and teeth giving you exactly what you wanted, his hands massaging your breasts and oh pinching your nipples with just the right amount of pressure.

Your hips were still swirling against him, locked in a rhythm you couldn't quite control, and then one of his hands was dipping into your panties and his fingers were sliding wetly, circling your delicious clit. And, God, it took so little time before you were cumming, hard and loud and so, so good. It would almost be embarrassing if you hadn't lost your self-consciousness about the reactions Jungkook could coax from your body long ago.

So, when he slid his fingers inside of you, you moved shamelessly against them, and when he circled your clit again, his pace ridiculously perfect, you let yourself fly over the edge once more, your mouth open in a silent cry, leaning hard against the table.

You tried to catch your breath and couldn't help a laugh. "This was supposed to be special for you" you said, straightening up and turning to face him once your legs were beginning to work again.

He breathed out an amused little huff, raising his eyebrows as he licked his lips. “And is it ever?”

You shook your head at him, smiling. You lifted his hand to your mouth and kissed his top knuckles, your tongue darting out to taste yourself on his skin, swirling around his fingertips while looking him straight in the eyes. He was breathing heavy. “What do you want, baby?” you asked hoarsely.

“Only to make you happy” he whispered. Your heart skipped a beat. Fuck, you love him so much. As if he hadn’t already. In so many ways.

“Well, baby” you said, keeping his hand in yours as you walked to the bedroom, “the only thing that could make me happier is to make you happy."

You pulled his soft Calvin Klein's boxer briefs down and ran your hands over him until he was making delicious little groans. You made him lie back on the bed and you straddled him, after discarding both the bra that was still hanging uselessly from your shoulders and your underwear for good measure. — Honestly you were very grateful to your internet research for advising you to wear them over the garter — because damn you did not want to be fumbling with that right now.

You leaned down to kiss him, cocooning you both in the curtain of your hair, enjoying the way he smiled against your lips. JK was always give give give — it could be difficult to get him to ask for anything for himself. And with the experience that you gained with him over the last few months you could easily guess, but you wanted to encourage him to say it sometimes.

You worked your way along his jaw, scraped your teeth over his earlobe and sucked it into your mouth as he sighed. You kissed his neck and whispered, "Tell me what you want, Kook"

And apparently, you had made him just a little desperate, because this time his response was immediate.

"To be inside you" he murmured, running his hands down your thighs, "while you're wearing this" A fresh wave of heat rushed to your belly. Good God, he could easily make you cum just with his words, he makes you go crazy in a matter of seconds.

"Now we're getting somewhere" you smiled.

You rocked back to sit up, bracing your hands on his chest as you moved your hips over him, letting him feel the slick heat of you against him. He pushed up to increase the friction and you hummed with pleasure.

When you thought you'd made him wait long enough, you let him steady you as you guided him inside, slowly, inch by inch. Your breath caught at the feel of him — and you couldn’t deny there was something especially hot about being a little dressed up for him, too.

You were sitting still on top of him, just enjoying him deep inside, and it was driving him slightly wild, his breathing full of hitches, his tongue wetting the corner of his mouth, his hands sliding down from your hips to tug playfully at your garter straps.

Finally, even you couldn't take it anymore, and you began to move, spurred on by the throaty sounds he was making, until you were matching the rhythm of the chorus in your head. Kook Kook Kook. You loved watching his face, seeing the effect you had on him as his composure slipped, but your eyes slid closed as you began building toward a peak. He felt so damn good, and he was touching you just right and it was just — it was just too goddamn much, and the world went white-hot and starry with bliss.

And then he was flipping you over carefully so he could fuck you hard into the mattress and you thrilled, wrapping your legs around him, running your silky stockings over his skin, digging into his back with your fingernails until he was cumming, too, gorgeous, and gruff and sexy as hell.

“Fuck, that was amazing” he said falling by your side and peppering your shoulder and neck with his kisses.

“As always” you said smiling at him, you felt as if you were high.

“I love you so much, baby”

“I love you even more, Kook” you said before both of you, exhausted, entered into dream land.

Sunlight was creeping around the curtains.

You blinked your eyes to clear them and saw Jungkook sleeping on his side next to you, facing away. You thought the little nap you'd snuck yesterday in would have been enough to allow you to stay up all night — playing all night long with Jungkook was your favorite activity and of course by ‘playing’ you mean, fucking —, but the exhaustion must've finally caught up to you and by the looks of it, it also had hit him too.

You felt a little guilty when you realized you had been completely hogging the blankets. JK was covered only by the sheet, and it had slipped down low enough to reveal not only the sleek muscles of his back but the beginnings of the swell of his ass.

And, damn, he was breathtaking.

Before Jungkook, you had never really understood just how sublime the physical could be. You had been in good shape throughout your life, you knew there was some joy in training your body, working up a sweat, making the shot. You'd never considered yourself prudish. But JK took things to a whole different level.

And it wasn't just his body, though it was the most beautiful you'd ever seen, of any gender. The sight of him made you understand why sculptors chiseled monuments in marble — that ass needed to be preserved for future generations. Not that it would ever compare to the real thing.

It was the way he moved that got to you the most. Always had. The way his tattooed hands moved, the way his tongue slid over his lips. The glide of his muscles as he punched and kicked and jumped whenever he was boxing or training. The way they flexed and stretched under your hands as you made love.

And, damn, now you really wanted to touch him. But you knew he was drained from all the work he had put on his presentation and finally he was done with it, he desperately needed rest after the week he'd had.

With a sigh of reluctant determination, you rolled over to face the other direction, burrowing down into the covers and trying to calm yourself down.

All too soon, though, the bed was moving as JK shifted and rolled over. A tiny smile turned up the corners of your lips as his welcome warmth pressed against your back.

"Your impure thoughts are making it a little hard to sleep, baby" he whispered in your ear, his voice drowsy. His hand started a lazy journey, finding your body bare beneath your t-shirt — well, actually, his oversized t-shirt that you’ve declared as yours a few months ago —, his fingers splaying wide over your stomach.

"You're a mind reader now, too?" you asked. You were impressed at how smoothly your voice came out, given how your body was responding so ardently to his touch. You arched back and felt him hard against your backside — Fuck, he’s gonna be the dead of me —. You clearly weren't the only one entertaining impure thoughts.

"I have my ways" he said smugly, his hand continuing to roam, his fingers finally sliding down and into the wetness between your thighs. You inhaled sharply, your eyes closing and your toes curling.

It was the way he moved that always got to you the most.

Once he had you practically whimpering, he murmured, "What do you want, baby?"

"You" you panted. "Just...you."

He let out a groan that was almost a growl and adjusted both of your positions so that he could slip inside of you. You moved together in a way that was unhurried and rich with sensation, the sun warm and the sheets slippery around you.

Both your heart and your body were full of him, and when you came, it was a gentle hum, a long slow wave that made you smile. Jungkook gripped you tightly as he followed.

“Just so you know, you can have what you want at any time” he said into your hair as he caught his breath.

“Be careful, Jeon. I’ll hold you to that”

He laughed. “Sounds like we’re both going to get what we want, then baby”

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a while” you hear a familiar voice from behind you while you were busy starting your warmup exercises.

“Oh! Hi Ethan” you say once you spot him near you “Yeah, work has been kicking my ass lately, so I wasn’t able to make time to come to the gym”

“Sorry to hear that” he says offering you a smile “So, I take it now things are calmer at your job?”

“Yeah, thank God it is quite calmer, I think I’ll be able to be normal for a few months” you say chuckling “There’s always some periods where it gets crazy but I’m a little used to it by now” you explain yourself while Ethan hears you carefully.

He nods at you and say “I haven’t seen your boyfriend either these past weeks”

He never mentioned Jungkook before. That’s weird. Is he trying to subliminally ask if you are still with JK? Though Ethan never made a move on you – despite what Jungkook might say – you’re careful enough to not give him any type of hope, you maintain a short conversation from time to time and continue with your workout routine. That’s all. You don’t want to create any confusion here and you made clear that you have a boyfriend and so did Jungkook when he kissed you in front of Ethan.

“He’s been pretty busy with work too so he has been working out at his place lately, but he should be here in a few minutes probably”

“Oh, cool”

Are you sensing disappointment on his tone? Okay, this is starting to get a little uncomfortable, you should end the conversation now.

“Um, I think I’ll start with the treadmill today. It was nice talking to you, Ethan” you say and walk over to the treadmills area after waving politely at Ethan who responded a simple “Sure, see you Y/N” while smiling at you.

Just when you were about to start your exercise, Jungkook arrived with furrowed eyebrows after seeing the little interaction between Ethan and you.

That guy is always near you. Why does he have to be always around? - he thinks to himself -.

Once you spot JK coming your way, your face brightens, and you almost run towards him. You put your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.

He hums in delight “Mmmh, someone missed me”

“I did” you look at him with puppy eyes and ask while pouting “Did you not miss me?”

“I would have to be damn crazy to not miss you, gorgeous”

You start giggling at his words. Butterflies setting free on your belly as usual.

“Though, I see I’m not the only one that missed you” he says with a certain tone that you don’t really like.

“What do you mean?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Ethan”

“Jungkook we’ve been through this a hundred times. He just came up to me to say hi and we had a small talk, nothing important”

“Come on, noona. You really can’t be that naive”

“I’m not naive” you cross your arms and Jungkook already gulps knowing that he might have said the wrong thing, as usual his impulsiveness winning over him. “We just talked, and he didn’t say anything out of line, like every other time that we talked. Could you please trust me? I don’t want to have this talk over and over”

“I trust you, baby. I’m sorry. I love you, you know that, right?”

You nod and respond “I love you too” while he grabs you by the waist and gives you a little peck on the lips.

A few minutes later and not too far from where you were exercising, you didn’t even realize that Ethan couldn’t get his eyes off you. Well, is not like you could see him from the treadmill area, there was plenty gym equipment between you two, and you were totally absorbed having a talk with your boyfriend about how both of your days went.

“God, she wants you so bad” suddenly a feminine voice wakes up Ethan from his trance.

“Huh?” he says and as soon as he sees the source of the voice he continues “Oh. It’s you. I thought you were frequenting another gym”

“I do, depending on the location that my dad is currently working. You know the drill” says Lina before continuing “Anyways, as I was telling you before, Y/N wants you, Ethan”

“How the hell would you know?”

“I know her. I’m a friend of hers”

“You are? I never saw you talking to her”

“I haven’t seen Y/N in a while, but I know her enough. I can give you some advice to get her to be all yours” says Lina smiling and putting the best of her actings “Though I don’t think you have to work a lot for that, she just likes to play hard to get, if you know what I mean?”

“She does? She didn’t strike me as that kind of girl. Plus, she has a boyfriend” he says pointing towards Jungkook that’s right beside you.

“Please, since when you’re the jealous type?”

“You’re right about that, if she doesn’t care I really don’t give a fuck about him” confesses Ethan “And she’s so fine, I can’t wait to fuck her”.

“Trust me, I know exactly what you have to do to accomplish that” says Lina with a mischievous smile.

Meanwhile, Jungkook and you were in your little world, without imagining that only a few meters away, Lina was planning how to wreck you both apart.

Is your love for each other strong enough to survive the tsunami that Lina was about to unleash upon yourselves?

Emma had chosen Aria, her sister, a college friend, and you to be her bridesmaids. Her sister being the maid of honor.

Joey had chosen Namjoon, his brother, Jungkook and Hobi to be his groomsmen. Namjoon being his best man. You were happy that Jungkook was one of the groomsmen, he’ll be your partner in crime at the wedding too.

You find yourself salivating every time you imagine him on whatever the suit is for the occasion. Emma told you she was in love of the suits she chose for the groomsmen and that they all were going to look like proper models. Though, Jungkook looks like a model even when he’s just wearing simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

You kept thinking to yourself that even if you haven’t known each other for ages, Emma and Aria had become one of your closest friends in these past months, you would see each other at least once a week to catch up on what’s going on with your lives and you would also be super active on your group chat sharing memes and stupid news that you saw on the internet that made you all laugh.

Today was an important day for all of you, especially for Emma. You had a fitting of Emma’s wedding dress. It almost has her in tears.

“It’s so beautiful” she says, standing at the pedestal and staring at her reflection in the mirror. Tears prick the backs of her eyes as she takes in the entire dress. It sits perfectly on her body, comfortable and not restrictive in the slightest, which she is thankful for.

It’s a blush pink color, the upper bodice sits flush against her body, sewn with hand embroidered flowers all over it. The flowers flow down to the skirt of the dress, which flares out from her upper hips. There’s intricate embroidery along the bottom of the dress as well that just brings the entire thing together.

Emma is absolutely in love with it.

“Wow, what a beautiful bride!” you exclaim as you exit your own changing room.

Emma catches your gaze in the mirrors that she stands in front of. “Oh my God, Y/N! You look fantastic!”

You grin and gesture to the aubergine-colored dress you’re wearing. “This old thing?” you tease her for a moment. “I’m glad it’s something that looks this good and is comfy too. I’d never forgive you if you put me in something as ridiculous as a Princess Leia inspired dress”

Emma rolls her eyes affectionately and chuckles. “I’d never do that to you, I can’t believe that your last time being a bridesmaid was in a Star Wars themed wedding, God I would have paid to see the photos of that wedding” you both laugh like idiots and Emma continues “Besides, all of the bridesmaids are matching”

“All jokes aside, I really love the choice you did with the bridesmaid dresses, and your dress is just stunning, Emma”

“Stop it! Lately I’ve been so emotional over the wedding, I’ll start crying if you keep talking”

“I’m just stating the truth, sweetie”

Emma smiles at you and then she says “I don’t know why but I have this feeling that you’ll be the next one standing over this pedestal trying on wedding dresses”

You choke on your own saliva while Emma snickers at your nervous behavior “Where’s the champagne? I need a drink” you say, looking around, acting like she didn’t say nothing — not that you didn’t think on going down that road with Jungkook, but it’s still a pretty early stage of your relationship — “And where’s Aria? I thought she’d be in her dress by now.”

“It was still too big on her” Emma replies, turning her gaze back to her reflection. She can’t stop touching the dress. It’s just wonderful. “So, she’s getting it altered with the tailor in the other room.”

“More champagne, ladies?” Arin, the shop assistant asks. She’s carrying a tray with three champagne glasses on it.

“Leave the bottle, please” you say with a grin. Arin nods and sets the tray down. She returns a moment later with the bottle and sets it down on the tray, too. You chug one glass and refill it before bringing a fresh one over to Emma.

“Well. What do you think?” she asks, accepting the glass from you. “Am I ready to get married?”

“I’d say so, yeah” you reply. “You look fit as fuck, sweetie I’ve to say it. Like a princess, too.”

Emma beams. “That was the goal”

“I have to pee, the champagne is doing its effect pretty quickly, back in a few” you say chuckling. You disappear, leaving Emma standing on the little platform in front of the mirror.

She bites her lip, turning her body from side to side as she takes in the dress yet again. She feels like her entire relationship with Joey has been leading up to this very moment. And she can’t wait.

Soon, she will legally be Joey’s wife. That prospect excites her so much. She’s absolutely giddy at the thought.

They’re getting married soon and there are still a lot of things left to do before the wedding can take place which all of the bridesmaids are helping as much as possible, including you.

One of those things left to do is getting Aria’s bridesmaid dress altered properly so that she can wear it.

Emma turns as she catches sight of Aria in the reflection of the mirror. She grins when Aria stops short and just gapes at her.

“Emma” she breathes. “Holy fuck!”

Emma beams once again. “I know, right?”

“Joey is going to die when he sees you” Aria says. “God, you look like a fairy tale princess.”

Emma can’t stop smiling. “I never want to take this dress off”

“I’m not surprised. You look amazing.”

“Thank you” Emma says. “You look fantastic, too. I’m so glad that your dress finally fits you!”

Aria gives her a small smile. “It’s not my fault I don’t have hips, or tits, and no bum. It hung on me like a potato sack for ages, but it finally fits”

Emma steps down off the platform and closes the distance between them. “You look beautiful. I’m so glad we chose two shades of purple to have the bridesmaids in. Because this lilac-color really brings out your eyes”

Aria ducks her head, blushing.

“Holy fuck!” you exclaim as you appear.

“Tell me how pretty I am” says Aria

“Ari, you know that you look spectacular” you say.

Emma is so happy with all the dresses; they definitely are the ones. “Good.” She then lets out a huge sigh. “I guess I had better take this off then. Next week my sister and Andy will be in Seoul, so they’ll be able to try out the dresses too”.

Andy is Emma’s college friend, both Emma’s sister and Andy live in London — where Emma and Joey are originally from — so, there’s a few maid of honor tasks that both Aria and you have been fulfilling in order for the wedding to come up perfectly because it was almost impossible for her sister to come earlier to Seoul and handle everything by herself.

“Such a hardship” Aria teases.

“For that you get no champagne” Emma says, poking her tongue out at her friend. She grabs her glass and has a long sip, keeping her gaze on you and Aria the entire time. “Wow, you really needed that drink, don’t you?” Aria teases once again.

“Getting married is stressful as fuck, I always feel like a need a drink” and you all laugh in unison.

Once you’re all out of the dresses and are in your everyday clothes again, Emma feels decidedly less like a princess, and more like someone who is on the verge of being very tipsy if she isn’t careful.

She isn’t careful. She has another glass of champagne just because she can.

“I love you both so much” Emma says when you stop on the floor of your apartment. Emma leans heavily on the wall next to your front door and pats at your arm. “Thank you for letting me keep my dress here. I don’t want Joey to see it before the big day”

“Of course, sweetie” you say as you unlock the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

“You guys are the besht. Besht. Besht. Beshtest?” she furrows her brow, confused.

“You’re so drunk” you say, sounding amused. “This is great”

“I am not” Emma protests. She sways a little on the spot as she pushes off the wall. “But I do need to sit down”

You lead Emma into your flat with the help of Aria, holding her hand the entire time until Emma is sitting down on your sofa. She pats at the soft cushions and smiles.

“How much did you have to drink?” Aria asks snickering at her friend. She presses a glass of water into Emma’s hand and orders her to drink.

Emma holds up three fingers. Then the other two. And giggles. She sips at her water, trying her very hardest not to dribble, or to spill any on herself. Or the sofa. Which is so soft. How has she not noticed how soft this sofa is before?

“Yes, we get it, you like my sofa” you say. Emma looks up at you, confused. “You said that out loud” you explain to your drunk friend.

“Oops” Emma giggles. She puts her glass down on the coffee table with as much care as she can.

“Get some rest, Emma” you say, patting Emma’s hand. Emma pats your hand, too. That seems like fun. — Your hands are surprisingly soft, thinks Emma to herself— “Your hands feel like porcelain, Y/N” she says out of nowhere.

“That’s your own hand you’re patting, Emma” you say, showing Emma your own hands. “That champagne must’ve had more alcohol in it than I thought.”

Emma nods and tips over on the sofa, giggling as its softness touches her cheek. In a few minutes she’s snoring, and you and Aria can’t help but to laugh.

You prepare coffee for yourselves and sit over your balcony so Emma can sleep quietly, and you both could have a nice chit chat meanwhile.

“So, how was the celebration of the 10th month anniversary?” asks Aria once you hand her the mug.

“Oh, perfect, spectacular, marvelous. And so, so hot” you beam at the memory of that amazing night last week with your boyfriend.

“I mean, when you sent us the picture of the lingerie you bought for the occasion it was pretty damn hard not to think it was going to be a steamy night” she said chuckling.

“It was amazing, though we were so tired that we didn’t last that long” you giggle “But we did have fun for a few hours”

“A few hours? What is supposed to mean ‘last long’ for you two? God you two must be beasts on the bed”

“Actually, he’s the beast but he’s so fucking hot that it makes impossible not to want to fuck him all night long”

“Oh my God, Y/N. You’re salivating, stop it!”

“Sorry, it seems like I do that a lot. Chris always scolds me for drooling over Jungkook”

Aria giggles. “Talking about Chris, how is he doing with…? Irene was it her name?”

You nod at her and say “He’s happy, I’ve met her a few times at Chris’s place and she’s really sweet honestly. I think you’ll love her when you meet her”

“I’m so happy for him. But I really want to meet her, I’m curious finally someone snatched Chris’s heart, that’s not an easy task”

You smile thinking about your best friend and remembering the day when he told you that he had asked Irene to be his girlfriend and that she had said yes. He was so excited, he looked like a little kid.

“Not an easy task at all. But I can see a mile away that she loves him a lot and seeing him this happy it’s comforting, he deserves someone like her. I’m sure you’ll meet her at the wedding. Knowing Chris, he’s just taking things slow with her, that’s why you all haven’t met her yet”

“You know, you’re such a good friend. I always meant to tell you this, the way you care about Chris and all of us — not only JK —, you irradiate so much love to the ones around you, Y/N”

“Jeez, are you trying to get me emotional?” you say feeling your heart getting too warm to the point that your eyes might start watering. “I think Emma’s sensibility is getting contagious”

Aria smiles at you and says “It’s the truth, sweetie”

“Thank you but you give me too much credit. You have been all so amazing with me since the very beginning, me caring about all of you this much is just me trying to return some of the love you all have been showering me with”

She smiles at you fondly and you engulf in a tight hug until you hear a “Hey – I want a hug too” coming from your sofa and you both laugh at Emma’s drunk ass.

You were almost done getting ready to go over to JK’s apartment when your doorbell rang, you had texted him a few minutes ago letting him know that you’re on your way.

Once you open the door, your eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of you. Ethan.

He doesn’t even give you time to ask him how the hell is he at your doorstep when you never gave him your address. His strong arms pulled you towards his body and his hands quickly cupped your face crashing his lips on yours.

Your eyes widened. You didn’t understand what is happening right now. Has he lost his mind? You react pretty fast despite your initial shock and pull him away from you. His arms go to your waist, holding you close to him, and you try to take his hands off you but fail miserably.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you almost scream while cleaning any trace of his saliva out of your lips with the back of your hand.

“I was told you liked to play hard to get. Don’t worry I can’t handle you, doll”

“Doll? Are you crazy, Ethan? I’m not playing a- “

You get shut up by his lips on yours once again. He’s touching your body and you feel disgusted. He’s clearly stronger than you and you’re scared what he might do because this is not the innocent and shy guy you used to talk at the gym, it’s like he’s an entirely different person.

You somehow manage to push him away and you look around trying to grab something to hit him and take him out of your apartment, there’s nothing you could possible grab quickly so as soon as you see him taking steps closer to you again, you gather all your strength and punch his face with a left jab – just like Jungkook had taught you when you told him you were curious about boxing – though you might have done it wrong because as soon as your fist landed on his face, you felt a crack on your hand and an intense stinging pain.

“What the fuck?” groaned Ethan while putting his hands on his face – as if he was the one shocked -, his nose was bleeding profusely

“You better get the fucking out of my apartment Ethan, or I swear to God I’ll scream bloody murder for someone to call the police”

Ethan gives you a last look – he looks genuinely shocked, is he for real? He’s the one surprised? He’s definitely crazy - before stepping out from your apartment mumbling what you think was a “Fuck – this hurts”

As soon as he was out of your apartment you quickly closed the door, making sure to put every lock on it. You sit against the door unable to understand what the fuck has just happened, your heart is beating so fast that you feel it’s gonna rip out of your rib cage in any moment, your hand is throbbing so bad that it’s almost unbearable, and the pain is increasing by the second.

You need to get to the doctor ASAP, but first you need to know how the hell did Ethan know where you lived, and you could only think of one person to help you with this.

You grabbed your bag and peep to see if there’s any signs of Ethan outside. No one is there. Great. Time to go out.

“Hey Y/N! I wasn’t expecti- “

Jackson cuts his own words when he sees your distress face and that you’re holding your left hand with help of the right one, it’s clear that you’ve somehow injured. At this point, your left hand starts to feel numb, the pain not going away at all. “What happened?”

“Are you okay?” asks Amy by his side and worried as well

“Ethan happened” you respond to Jackson and then you look towards Amy “Honestly I’m not okay, my hand is aching like a bitch”

“What? He did this to you?” says Jackson surprised – you can’t blame him; you were as surprised as him with Ethan’s behavior – and you just shake your head “I kinda did this to myself when I punched him in the face”

Jackson’s face has a question mark drawn all over it by now and you continue talking while sighing “That’s why I’m here. Jackson, is there any way that he could possibly had access to my information? I never gave him my address to begin with but somehow, he ended up at my doorstep”

“He shouldn’t have, it’s illegal to pull confidential information about the clients, but I guess that’s possible if he somehow got to Amy’s computer” says Jackson turning his head towards an outraged Amy and now speaking to her “Check when the last time is that someone accessed Y/N’s information and we’ll check the cameras to see who it was”

“On it” says Amy turning her body quickly towards the computer.

Jackson takes a few steps closer to you and softly grabs your left hand. You hiss and he mumbles a soft “Sorry”. After checking it, he says “I’m no doctor but it’s possible that you broke your hand, it’s already swealing up too much, you need to go to the hospital right now. You want me to go with you or maybe I can call JK?”

“Don’t worry about it, the hospital is near JK’s house, I’ll go over to his place and then to the doctor”

“Okay. Listen, I’ll talk to my boss about this, even if we found out that Ethan wasn’t the one to pull your information, I’ll make sure that his access to the gym gets revoked, so you don’t have to deal with him here anymore”

“Thank you so much Jackson, I’ll get going”

You exchanged greetings with Amy who was still checking the information from the computer. You had called an Uber a few minutes ago and Jackson offered to walk you out to the car – just to be safe he said -, even though you don’t think that Ethan is going to show up but then again, you never thought that he could be capable of showing up at your place and trying to force you into kissing him.

“I’ll let you know once we found out if someone pulled the information from our data base”

You nod at him and give him a quick hug before he shuts the car’s door of your Uber. You need to see your boyfriend right now.

Anger is all he can feel. He’s seeing red. He feels like a fool, like an idiot. Once again, seems like history is re-repeating. Always the same ending.

His doorbell rings announcing you’re here. He exhales trying to compose himself and he goes towards the entrance to open the door.

You sigh at the sight of your boyfriend. Finally.

“Hi baby. Sorry I took long to get here”

He scoffs while turning away and walking towards his living room without giving you a kiss “Yeah, I’m pretty sure what had you busy”

You follow his steps sensing his weird behavior “Is there something wrong?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows

“I don’t know, Y/N” says Jungkook with an unrecognizable tone. He proceeds to grab his phone and shove the screen right up your face surprising you “You tell me”

Pictures of Ethan kissing you. You only got a glimpse of the screen and saw that an unknown number had sent him the pictures along with a message saying, “You should know that your little girlfriend has been having fun for a while with Ethan”.

You froze in place. Your mind was spiraling. Was it all orchestrated by Ethan and someone else?

“I can explain it”

“Explain what? That you’re just the same as Lina and my ex? That you’re a slut? That you’ve been cheating on me? The guy is at your place, at your fucking apartment, Y/N! Since when has these been going on, huh? How many more beds have you been jumping on?” he screams at you.

You feel a pang in your chest. As if he’s taking your heart with his hand and slowly squeezing it. He’s spitting venom. You don’t even recognize him anymore. You don’t even think when your right-hand slaps him right on the face to stop him talking shit about you.

Tears are falling nonstop from your eyes when Jungkook turns to look at you with his eyes wide open. Did you really slap him?

He knows he went too far, while he was spitting all his venom on you, he saw how your face twisted in pain, but he’s fucking angry, and he can’t stop repeating in his mind that fucking image of Ethan and you kissing each other.

“Is that what you think about me after 10 fucking months together? After I confided to you how much it fucked me up that my dad cheated on my mum?”

He stays silent for a bit, probably unsure what to say.

“You see this?” You lift your left hand with all the pain stinging right through you, your hand is swelled up to its maximum now and Jungkook’s eyes almost pop out of his head seeing you injured, he instinctively steps closer to grab it and you take a step back “This is what happened after Ethan barged in my place and kissed me out of nowhere. I punched his face so hard that I probably broke something in my hand. But I guess no one sent you that picture, huh?”

Jungkook is frozen. He immediately forgets all of the anger he felt two seconds ago and just looks at you with big, scared eyes while your words slowly sink in and realizes he made a terrible mistake. He’s about to speak but you cut him off before he can say anything.

“It took longer to me to get here because I went to the gym to talk to Jackson because it’s the only place where Ethan could have pulled my address information, I never gave it to him”

He fucked up. Big time. He was so absorbed in the discussion but as soon as you explained what happened it feels like all energy is sucked out of him.

“But hey - good thing now I know what you really think about me”

“Baby, I-I’m- “. His voice sounding a little shaky. He starts to tear up all of the sudden.

“Don’t, Jungkook” you cut him off once again “You do realize that when I saw Lina kissing you at that night club you weren’t even my boyfriend, but I had let you explain what did really happen that night and I fucking believed you. We have been together for almost a year, and you didn’t even let me talk, you just figured out that what makes sense it’s that I’m…” you gulp, and more tears fall on your cheeks before continuing “…a slut”

Jungkook looks at you defeated with watery eyes before more tears start to slip from his eyes and he hastily wipes them away.

“I’m so s-sorry baby I wasn’t thinking clearly, it was an impulse. I-I was so angry an-“

“Save it. I’m done” you say with the coldest tone ever. He steps closer to you wanting to hug you and you shake your head and lift your right hand stopping him before the most painful words that you’ve ever said come out of your lips “I’m breaking up with you”

“What? No, d-don’t say that, you don’t mean it”

“I mean every part of it. I’m done with you, Jungkook. And I’m done with us”

“N-no, please baby, let’s talk this through”

“Talk? You already made it pretty clear what you think about me. You don’t trust me; you never did, and I fucking knew it all this time. If you did trust me, you would have listened my explanation and not just assume that I was cheating on you”

You begin to turn your heels to leave the apartment when Jungkook suddenly stops you and hugs your body.

“Let go of me, Jungkook”

“N-no”

“Let-me-go” you beg – even if you feel how your heart is breaking slowly – “You’re making it so hard for me to leave—” you cry in his arms and he feels like shit, he feels like an asshole for making you suffer, he can’t stand seeing you like this.

“Then don’t leave. Stay” he softly says cupping your face, but you can’t even look him in the eyes. Not after hearing all the shit that he said about you, you can’t see him the same way you did before.

With your only good hand you grab his and remove it from your face. You take some steps away from him and say “It’s not going to work out. I know because I’ve gone through this before. I’m doing us a favor”

He bursts crying even more. His body spasming. He is hurting. You both are.

You love him so deeply that you’re feeling like all the air is being sucked from your lungs, but you also know where your boundaries are settled. You have been through this in previous experiences, and you don’t want to repeat your mistakes. Did he ever love you? How could you say such things to someone you love? – your mind is definitely ruining you.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase, a simple fight can turn into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.

Your heart is scattered all over the place. You don’t even know how you’ll be able to pick up the pieces or if it’s going to be possible at all to even reassemble it.

“Don’t do this, please. I love you Y/N” he pleads hoping that you believe his words, that you see how hopelessly in love he is because he really means every word he said. But your next words feel like a stab right through his heart.

“I don’t think you know what loving someone means”

With that being said, you turned your heels and walked out of Jungkook’s apartment.

The moment you step out of it, he broke crying on his knees. He knew it the moment he saw your eyes full of tears, he knew it when you said you were breaking up with him.

He knew he had lost you.

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