#and i feel like such a failure if i'm not doing it perfect so i'm stressing myself out so so bad
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genericpuff · 20 hours ago
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Hello! I'm someone with autism (and I'm suspecting ADHD too) who's planning multiple projects. Do you have any advice when it comes to overthinking a lot about decisions on a project? Be it the first step, planning, questioning if you're moving too fast, etc?
ouuuu I think the biggest thing I struggle with personally is just like... the overbearing weight of expectation that isn't necessarily even there. Like, expectation to do everything right all the time, to never make mistakes, to never fall through on promises, to never break any 'rules' (real or imaginary) and most of all, for everything I do to matter in some big, recognizable, memorable way - but the steps to that goal aren't defined, I just know what the goal looks like, with no clear path as to how to get there, and so it often results in me aiming at my own "best guess" and then beating myself up for not hitting the target LOL which is completely unfair to myself and my own work!
What I try to regularly remind myself of is that I am one person, who is only capable of what one person should reasonably be able to accomplish on their own, no matter how much my auDHD tries to convince me otherwise that I "should" be able to handle more than what's reasonable. And in that same sense, there isn't any more pressure on me to put out something perfect than there would be on any other person. I am not Atlas carrying the fate of the greatest work known to mankind on my shoulders - I'm a chronically online dweeb making stuff that's interesting to themselves and sharing it in the hopes that even just one other person will like it too. That isn't a diss on myself, that's me embracing what I am so that I can keep doing it better and more confidently each time.
Though I don't know if this exactly applies to you, I'm gonna say it just in case: I know when it comes to balancing multiple projects, it can be hard not to go "oh well I SHOULD be working on xyz!" but at the end of the day, you're not a failure for preferring to work on something else or needing space from projects that used to thrill you and have now become monotonous. In fact, it turns out that's how it is for most neurotypical people too! I know they make a lot of shit look easy, but even they have shit they loathe doing - they just don't have to deal with the unique hurdles of being neurodivergent.
Always remember to set boundaries with yourself and your work. Remember, just because you're really excited to work on something, doesn't mean you have to work on it all the time. I've learned to appreciate those moments when I'm stuck doing my day job and I'm excited to get home and work on my passion project, because it means I can actually look forward to it and it'll feel all the more rewarding when I finally get to do it! Pushing yourself too hard to fulfill that excitement all at once right off the bat often just means you're gonna spend it all way too quick, and that won't feel good because then you'll be left wondering where all the love went.
Set little goals for yourself. Stuff that's manageable and achievable within a reasonable amount of time. I know we tend to dive into thinking huge right off the bat, because that's what's exciting to us, but when it comes time to actually do the work, those smaller goals can keep us moving forward far better than the big, far off, ambiguous goal hiding somewhere off in the horizon. While it's good to plan ahead, not setting smaller milestones for yourself can burn you out faster because it's really hard to work towards an "end goal" that might be too far away for us to even conceptualize. The small goals allow us to reward ourselves along the way, and they do ultimately still build up to the bigger picture in the end, even if it feels like we're "not doing much". It can be anything like "get to this chapter that I can finish in the next few weeks" or "fully write out this scene that's been living in my head rent-free".
As for the overthinking... yeah, I wish I had some magic solution to that, but it's really just about learning what you enjoy doing vs. what you don't, so that you can have confidence in knowing when your creative decisions suit the project you're working on. This is something that gets better with practice and experience, but I feel like it's better tackled by reminding yourself that any project, no matter the outcome of how popular it gets or whether or not it "takes off", is an opportunity to learn and grow. Treat every project as a learning experience and you'll hopefully find the process itself more enjoyable, which will subsequently buff up your confidence. It's all a process of honing in on what works for you, what you excel at, and what you enjoy doing; while learning what doesn't work for you, what you could improve at, and what you don't enjoy doing.
Finding a writing buddy or someone who's willing to read your work and give you feedback is super helpful for this, too, because sometimes it takes another perspective to help us navigate the fog of indecision and find a solution.
And again, remember - you are one person, and you are under no obligation for any of your projects to be some perfect, infallible holy grail. You will write stuff that you will inevitably look back on with disgust and cringe. You will create projects that you will eventually outgrow or move on from. That does not invalidate the time and effort you put into those projects - it's proof of experience and growth. Embrace the growing pains, find peace in the process in whatever way you can.
It's not a question of right or wrong - it's asking yourself what feels true to you and your voice, and finding out along the way.
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blurredfloweryblood · 11 hours ago
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I'm not the best person to do analysis on Hannibal, mainly because it's complex and it has so many layers and fragments and I'm so afraid of looking like a dumbass.
But every time I rewatch the first season (I'm sorry it's my favorite season, I feel like a failure), I really thought that there was a hanging theme of self-preservation among all the other symbols and themes (again, not a big "aha!" moment just verbal vomit). Abigail capture bonding with Hannibal, as well as tucking her cards near her because she is in a complicated situation. She wants to live, she really does. Her father's shadow is behind her, a bigger monster is lurking, and the seven girls yell in her dreams. She just wants to be fucking free, live a fucking life. Bloodshed, gutting, deers or whatever.
Alana doesn't want to get close to Will. Her relationship with him has to remain distant and warm enough to be somewhat solid, but careful to not let it go astray. She wants to be his pillar, and remain focused.
Hannibal is fucking thrilled. He has met the perfect being in potential, the shaking of diving into violence, the lie of self-righteousness, the thrill of blood and the mind that connects, more than other minds can. The vision that can not only observe, but know. The only person that can dig his fingers into Hannibal's skin, and appreciate what it keeps underneath. Yet, it's not that he's afraid, but un-peeling himself requires time, and he can't wait, he's on his toes and he wants to reach but things are moving fast and leading him astray, waves pulling him under and up and left and right. He is deciphering and whispering and moving strings while being beckoned. He keeps himself well hidden, but Will can't stop moving in mysterious ways.
Will is pulled and pushed and pushing and pulling back, he holds both ends of the rope, fighting with himself and the unknown in his mind. Hiding from his nightmares, people and his own eyes, using the glasses to reflect back what could be seen by him back to the exterior. He doesn't want to see, he does and he doesn't, and the cycle is burning his head. Tiptoeing at the edge of a cliff, he's starting to play with the swan dive he could take. He's been whispered too, but he was already burning before. Maybe he was born like that, and little crooked, with a spider-ish heart that pumps darkness from his core. Not like a disease, but like the soon-to-be-shed body.
They are all showing their sharp edges, just trying to lightly warn the other to not get too close, or they will be cut. Just a tiny, itchy burn of the small path of blood. But in their distance and their toying and testing and stepping and pushing away, they leave parts uncovered, slipping. They allow a little of softening, a little moment of closeness between the lone moments when they are surrounded by themselves. And in those seconds of quiet and fleeting warmth, they are already retracting their claws.
So they break. Chipping away their fragments, they are conjoined by blood and the search of something to grab on when you're drowning. Turning and twisting and hovering. They reach others, or submerge themselves in the bitter ends of having let others have a little piece of their mind.
They come undone, in ribbons of sanity. But that shall be later. For now it's just the beginning. The peek to the abyss. It's the match to the grass. Not yet a forest fire. But we all know what shall happen. It's not the knowledge of what will happen. Is the how. How will they break? How will they loose their ends? Like raggedy clothes. They stand before is, complete and made.
But at the end, unrecognizable and yet distinct. Because you are what you are, even if you shed yourself. There are things we cling to, even when we are eating ourselves away.
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bittersweetresilience · 1 year ago
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it feels cosmically unfair that i think about writing all the time want to write all the time and sit down to write all the time and i come up with two sentences at best. there should be some reward system i think
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airs-headspace · 21 days ago
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Baby -- Child -- Pre-teen
I need to add the shoelaces to Dante's shoes still haha (I forgot about those 🤣🤣), but these are turning out cute... they kinda look like I'm trying too hard to draw in a style that isn't mine, but I think if I draw a "Teenager" stage that'll be a more obvious blend into my own style and then their "Adult" versions are obviously in what I would consider "my style".
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mourningroutine · 2 years ago
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got an A on my presentation, but my teacher did say she did not expect me to be so nervous :(
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miraclemaya · 4 months ago
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MADOKA - “I’m thinking I’ll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?”
CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?
GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT IT’S IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.
TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madoka’s tastes better than anyone — and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.
“I will have the same as you, Madoka.”
“I’m not feeling very hungry.”
[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own
CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - You’ve eaten here before, you’re pretty sure. Was it Loop 32… no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No… that’s not right. You’ve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.
THE ANGEL - It’s okay, Homura-chan! I don’t mind if you haven’t eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if it’s not perfect, that’s okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.
THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-
FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.
CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.
THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isn’t immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, don’t you?
THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think that’s a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!
HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.
MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US
WITCH’S NIGHT - Is… is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?
MADOKA - “Um, are you okay, Homura-chan?”
MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US
“I’m going to kill myself.”
“I’m so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?”
Isn’t there anything else you can say?
YOU - Isn’t there anything else you can say?
THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. It’s high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.
CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.
THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!
"I am going to kill myself."
"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."
"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"
There. There has to be better options than this.
YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.
MOE INSTINCT - I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.
"I am going to kill myself."
"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."
"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"
YOU - “I’m going to kill myself.”
MADOKA - Madoka’s face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.
GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.
MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?
MADOKA - “I’m so sorry, Homura-chan. Please don’t do that. I… I really care about you and so does everyone else.” Madoka’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.
DAMAGED MORALE -4
CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didn’t land. You’ve gotten away with that before, you’re pretty sure.
SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and there’s a Japan that it’s actually illegal to not commit suicide in.
FALLING SAND - You’ve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.
TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. She’s really worried about you, you know.
STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madoka’s heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.
THE ANGEL - Yeah! It’s okay Homura-chan. Just explain what’s been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, it’s important to eat a full meal!
YOU - “Ah, sorry Madoka. I was… overwhelmed with choice, and my… brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.”
MADOKA - “Um, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chan….”
CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. It’s worked in three different loops, it should work here.
RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.
YOU - “Is there anything else you’d like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.”
MADOKA - “Uh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?”
Order 10000 yen worth of tempura
Order 1000 yen worth of tempura
Order 100 yen worth of tempura
YOU - “Excuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.”
HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.
THE ANGEL - T-that’s probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!
MADOKA - Madoka doesn’t say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.
HEALED MORALE +1
RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madoka’s eyes, furthering along one of your goals.
THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.
Thank you.
Why don’t you hate me?
YOU - Why don’t you hate me?
THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.
Thank you.
THE ANGEL - You’re welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.
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mickandmusings · 6 months ago
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third times the charm
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pairing: tyler owens x f!reader
word count: 3.8k
summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?
aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.
warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry
shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)
-
i.
"What do you mean you're leaving?!"
Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.
"I'm leavin', simple as that."
"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"
He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.
"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.
It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.
Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.
"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"
She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.
"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"
Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.
"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."
"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.
"You know I can't."
She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.
"C-call me when you get there?"
He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.
"You'll be the first person I call, baby."
Y/N's call never came.
She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.
-
ii.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.
Tyler Owens.
She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.
With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.
"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"
"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."
She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.
"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.
"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.
"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."
She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.
"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."
She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.
"Stop the truck!"
He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.
"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"
The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.
"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"
Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.
"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"
She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.
"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"
He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"
"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"
"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.
It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.
He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.
Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.
When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.
-
iii.
"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"
Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.
His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.
Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.
"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.
"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."
"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"
Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.
"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.
"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."
Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.
"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."
She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.
"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."
"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."
She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.
"Sure, go ahead."
"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."
Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.
"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"
She pauses, realizing how vague that was.
"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"
She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.
"Tyler listen-"
"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."
She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.
"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."
He laughs with her.
"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"
She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.
"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."
"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."
"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."
She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.
"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."
Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.
"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."
Her statement is laced with sarcasm.
Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.
"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."
"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."
Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.
"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."
Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.
"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.
"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"
He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.
"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"
She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.
"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."
She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.
"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."
-
taglist:
@fraaaaankiiiiieee
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byuntrash101 · 6 months ago
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there's nothing boyfriend!chris loves more than to fuck with your head. he enjoys mind fucking you.
he loves to see you lose yourself to him. submit entirely mind, body and soul.
when he holds you flush against his broad chest he looks into your eyes that aren't looking back, fixed into nothing, barely hanging to consciousness.
he fucks you deep and slow. the perfect pace to keep you right where he wants you: on the edge of it all.
“that's it baby. you take me so well” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he tilts your chin up gently. your eyes come back into focus as you let a little sound escape your lips. halfway between a moan and a whine.
“‘you're being so good for me, my angel” he says, smiling down at you. you whine again and chris starts to speed up, your whole body feels so hot, steadily getting closer to its breaking point. 
“‘you're gonna continue to be my good girl, right? he says, this time the benevolent smiles turns into a sly smirk. but chris can't help it, not when he’s got you like this: pliant, docile and on the verge of insanity. 
“yesss” you moan, interspersed by chris’ sharp thrusts.
“what don't good girls do, my love?” he taunts you. he can't help but tease you when he's got you so fucked out.
“good girls don't cum” you say, feeling your exhausted little cunt clench around chris’ big cock perfectly stroking your sensitive spot. he knows at this angle it's almost a guarantee you won't be able to hold it back. the first big tear spill from your eye and rolls on you cheek as you can't help but to moan louder for him. only for him.
“please” you choke on a sob with a particularly purposeful thrust.
“what is it, darling?” 
“please slow down I'm gonna c-” one other powerful thrust cuts you and you arch your back into the mattress, your pussy gushes out more slick and really clamps down on chris’ fat cock inside you scraping you just right, just how you like it. this time you managed to hold it in but you start to panic. next time won't be like this. “please chris…aaahh… pleaseplease slow down-” you start to beg. 
fuck how fucking beautiful you look like this on the verge of madness, fear pooling in your eyes, spirit brittle and body broken.
“please, i-i don't want to cum”
there it is. chris twitches inside you as you utter the words. you both know there's nothing you desire more in the entire universe right now. your cheeks flooded with tears, your pussy making squelching wet noises with each of your boyfriend’s coming and going, your thighs trembling and your eager little clit throbbing. your whole body is desperate for the release. your whole being is aching for your orgasm. you both know that. and the fact that you’re saying otherwise just shows how dedicated you are to him.
you are perfect. so fucking perfect chris could have cummed right there. but he didn't instead he took one hand to place on your throbbing clit.
“then don't, baby” he murmurs as he starts to tease it in tight, fast circles. making you complain. “then don't fucking cum, angel”
he starts plowing his fat angry cock into you, fucking you into the mastress, pinning your legs wide open for him with a bruising grip and rubbing your clit. he sets you up for failure. he loves to see you fail to hold it in. he loves to see you cry, to hear you scream, to watch you fall apart. 
he loves to break you. just to put you back together right after.
skz masterlist | navigation
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boobav · 2 months ago
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!season 1
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Viktor is, you've clearly observed, insecure of himself.
Quite valiantly, due to some looming social norm or personal feeling, he tries to hide it. But in moments like these, such an act becomes impossible. Try as he might, desperately at times, when he's pressed against you in the warm water, your fingers over his skin, your fingers in his hair, his failure is palpable.
"Are you okay?" You murmur into the nape of his neck, his back against your chest. The water threatens with gentle churns to spill over the bathtub.
He turns his head to press a kiss against your wrist.
"More than," he says, voice quiet but firm, "I just feel, sometimes," and he hums, as though forming an adequate description of his emotions were the hardest task on the planet. Viktor, your genius scientist, hesitant not to innovate, to change the world with his research, no. He's hesitant only to make sure he says the right thing to you.
"Like I'm too good for you?" You ask, catching his eye. By the gentle look you know that's what he means. He faces away again, nods in a vaguely ashamed way.
How, you've always wondered, can you truly change someone's perspective? When words don't seem to persuade, when actions bring only fleeting relief, what can you do?
"It's irrational, I know, some... flaw of the mind. You don't need to keep reassuring my senselessness." He leans into your touch, takes your free hand into his, soap suds bubbling between your fingers.
"Sometimes you talk about yourself like you're a machine, you know." You muse. He gives a half-hearted laugh.
"Not a well functioning one."
Are words or actions worth more in this game of convincing? Does he feel it deeper when you press your lips into his hair, or when you mumble compliments and honeysuckle words into his ear? He shivers either way.
It's a long game, you know. It's taken months to even reach this stage, where the self-deprication is a rarity, not the norm. Maybe it'll take his whole life before he can accept every part of himself like you can, before he can truly see himself through your eyes, gleaming and gem-speckled as they are.
You free your hand from his, reach up instead to knead shampoo into his thick hair. He responds with a sigh and sinks somehow further against you, the water falling slowly to a more lukewarm temperature. You're not sure how long the two of you have been in here, talking quietly about very little, exchanging words that'll disappear forever with the water. But you really can't find it in you to care.
There's work to be done, errands to run. Errands that should've been run a week ago. This ceremony, this meditation makes all of it null. For where else would you want to be? Where else exists besides here, this room, this moment, static in the cooling water with the embodiment of perfection.
When you tell it to him, as you so often do, when you tell him that he's perfect, he can't believe you. The first time you ever said it, peering into his eyes as if they held some secret treasure within, he thought you were joking. He'd laughed, more out of obligation than actual humour, but your expression remained still. Sincere. To say he was moved would be a wildly inadequate explanation. What he felt in his chest that night was something otherworldly, something without a name. He's come now to associate it simply with yours.
You run water through his hair, rinse out the shampoo as he lies pliant in your hands. He insists you use your soaps in his hair, some floral-scented collection you've used for who knows how long, because the smell reminds him of you.
There's no point in overthinking it, you suppose. No point in trying to map out and organise moods, emotions. No point in trying to turn a gentle human experience into something clinical, something without humanity.
That swirling, omnipresent yet transient concept of humanity. You simply must cradle it within your own. You press your lips into his wet hair, whisper words made of ginger and lavender into his ear. Because at the end of the day, you're human. You're in love. And sometimes, that's all that matters.
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aestherin · 16 days ago
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KEEP MY HEART
goal 40: good luck
NOTE: another christmas gift hehe 💞 happy holidays everyone <3
PS. i love them (scarayn) your honor :((
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You felt a little bad while wishing Kazuha his good lucks when you went with him to the stadium.
Half of the reason was because you felt traitorous wishing him good luck when later, he might find you on the opponent's bleachers. Half of it was because you knew your wishes of luck for you brother were half-hearted — because half of you hoped that your lover could win this time.
You let out a big sigh as you two walked towards his team, which caught Kazuha's attention.
"Why are you sighing like that? You're even more nervous than the one who'd actually play!" He joked, attempting to lighten up your mood.
"I'm not nervous!"
"You are."
"Am not!"
"Are."
You rolled your eyes, having long forgotten the conflict you were feeling just seconds prior. "I told you, I —"
"Captain! There you are!" Venti exclaimed as soon as you and your brother got close enough to them. "Oh, [Name], hi! Long time no see!"
You smiled and waved at them. The team reciprocated your gesture, but you noticed a particular dark green-haired man with golden eyes avoid your gaze.
"Xiao!" You called out. "Good luck!"
He stiffened. At the specific mention of his name, he had no choice but to turn to you. Venti tried to stifle a laugh, but his weird facial expression right now is a proof of his failure.
"You're so cruel," Xiao mumbled. Really, he was finally trying to move on from his suppressed feelings, and now you give him his own 'good luck'?
You are so cruel. And the worst part is that you don't even know.
"Huh?"
"Nothing." He managed to flash a small smile. "I said thank you."
"Oh, okay!"
You noticed Venti patting Xiao's back apologetically while still holding back a laugh before you turned away. You started observing your surroundings — Xiao swatting away Venti's hands, your brother occupied by his teammates...
Now was the perfect moment to sneak away.
Making sure you were not seen, you slowly distanced yourself from your own university's varsity team. You put on a white baseball cap, which goes perfectly with your boyfriend's jersey that you've kept perfectly hidden underneath your oversized red jacket.
'Ugh, the lengths I go to!' You complained. 'Why do they belong in different teams?'
If you had known your future boyfriend would be from University of Inazuma's football team, you would have done everything to convince your brother to accept the university's offer after he had passed their entrance examinations.
If he and Kuni were in the same team, would they be friends like your boyfriend is with Heizou and Aether?
Unfortunately, the halls in the stadium were not sufficient to accommodate your musings. Soon enough, you found yourself welcomed by navy blue cheering balloons and bleachers displaying waves of blue with occasional whites — a stark contrast to the abundance of maroon placards and shirts from where you originally came from.
Although being aware that you aren't as popular as your brother, you still feared the possibility of someone recognizing you. You made another effort to lower your cap more as you unzipped your jacket, letting your boyfriend's jersey be visible.
People kept giving you weird glances, perhaps due to your jacket being red despite being in the blue team's wing.
But you couldn't care less.
You wanted to also somehow show support for your brother, even in just small ways.
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After faithfully referring to the ticket that Kuni had previously handed you, you soon found the section where you were supposed to be settled in.
A familiar long, braided purple hair demanded your attention right off the bat as you went through the VIP gate. Around her, several men clad in navy blue varsity jackets and a few already in their jerseys were huddled around.
You smiled, admiring how your boyfriend's brows were furrowed. Not in frustration, however. This time, it was in concentration.
As Coach Ei took her time giving her final reminders, you sneakily made your way into your seat, which you noticed was directly right behind a player's seat currently occupied by a very familiar sports bag.
You busied yourself with your phone, first texting your brother and then his friends one final 'good luck'. Your seemingly endless loop of scrolling through your feed then came to a stop as you heard some shuffling.
"Hey."
You looked up, only to see your boyfriend looming over with a grin, one knee kneeling on the seat right in front of you. His right arm resting on the seat's backrest, and the other on his thigh.
"Hey," you breathed.
"My jersey looks the best on you."
"I know," you jokingly replied.
"Don't we all know?" A certain maroon-head butted in. "He's been telling us that nonstop ever since he gave you one of his jerseys!"
"Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you," said the sunshine-haired boy. "I'm Aether, Scara's friend. Also a midfielder."
"Hi!"
Kuni's other friend grabbed your hands and shook them aggressively. "Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you! I'm Heizou, Scara's friend and a defender. Also the one your brother blocked because he thought I was your boyfriend!"
"What?" Kuni turned to look at you. "Your brother thinks that?"
You laughed. "He does."
A scowl was now plastered onto your lover's face. Heizou, also noticing this, shivered. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe, he should now start preparing for the repetitions his captain would make him do once they finish this game. Maybe, he should take what he said back and tell Scara that it was a lie, and that he was just joking.
"Uhm—"
"They're calling for the players now," Ei announced to the team. When her eyes spotted you, she gave a subtle smile and wave before getting back to work.
Heizou let out a sigh of relief as Aether laughed next to him, the two already heading out to the field.
You placed your attention back to your boyfriend who's still in front of you, still maintaining his position from earlier. His earlier grin was already replaced by a frown, though.
You lowered your cap again.
Scaramouche swore his heart dropped when you cupped his face using both of your hands, gently tugging him closer.
"Why is your face like that, hmm?"
"What? Handsome?" He feigned ignorance.
You smiled. "Well, yes. That's true. But you look annoyed."
"It's nothing."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
You took a quick glance towards his teammates. Seeing as most of them have already left for the field, you knew you had to settle this fast.
"Kuni." You called.
"What?"
You replied with nothing.
Nothing aside from closing the distance between the two of you — eyes closed, skin touching, lips intertwined; deep breaths the only thing audible upon parting.
"You—"
You put your index finger against his lips.
"Good luck!" You grinned.
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
prev . masterlist . next
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TAGLIST I (closed)
@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks
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certifiedtrashmouth · 2 years ago
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random rant below the cut and in the tags please just ignore me while i scream into the void
i wasn't feeling great tonight and didn't attend my biology class (i was feeling feverish and coughing - negative for covid but positive for being a lil bitch), and my biology professor won't let me make up the lab. a class i pay for, and i miss one lab, and she says i'll have to take the zero because i was sick. immediately, my attendance points and the 0 she input for my lab knocked me down to a B, and even if I score perfectly on the rest of my exams, labs, and quizzes (highly unlikely considering i usually get a b on her quizzes), i'll barely be able to snag an a. if i am a perfect student who perfectly understands the concepts, i will barely get a fucking a. because i missed one night of class. a class i pay for. because i missed a fucking lab, and she doesn't like to schedule around doing make up labs. this is the same teacher who is shit at lectures. who lets us out hours in advance which means i'm paying for a three hour class and only receiving an hour of actual in class time.
some people should not be teachers. if i had known, i'd probably opt for online over this shit show.
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circlesuponcircles · 4 months ago
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(As you watch Siffrin leave and go talk to everyone else, you stand up, and head towards Euphrasie.)
(...Maybe... maybe this time. It'll be different.)
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(You're all family now, right? You all grew closer! You all love each other!)
(It'll all be fine. It'll be fine. It'll be fine!)
(He's here now.)
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🌕: Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!
(...oh...)
🌕: I'd like to thank you for accompanying young Mirabelle this far. I'm very grateful.
(No, no, nonono...)
🌕: Siffrin, yes? If there's anything I can do to thank you, please don't hesitate to let me know!
(Why, why, why?? You did it all right this time, you did everything, you talked to them, you did it! It should be working!!!)
🌕: I know you will go back on your travels soon, but I do hope you'll keep in touch, if only for young Mirabelle...
(Please. Please, please, why can't something change, why is it always the same, WHY WON'T IT EVER CHANGE??)
🌕: But no matter what, know that Dormont will always be open to you! Please come back... any... time...
(You feel like you're going to pass out.)
(You're... you're such a failure! Failing to save them, failing to help her, even after all this time...)
(Tears run down your cheeks.)
(Here's Vaugarde's savior, everyone! Too busy crying her eyes out to do anything, as always!)
(Change, you're just so-)
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🔷️: Siffrin? Mirabelle?
(You look at Odile. She's staring right at you.)
🔷️: ...Are you alright?
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(You can't bring yourself to change your expression.)
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🪨: Mira, what happened? Why are you crying?
🌕: I can't fix it on my own, not before it all ends... If only I had noticed sooner!!!
🍳: Frin?? Belle??? What's-
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(Your head hurts so much)
🍳: URGH!!
🪨: W-what's happening!?
🍳: My head hurts!!
(...Siffrin.)
(They don't know, they don't know what's happening, you have to help--)
(You force yourself to move, pushing through the pain.)
🔷️: Mirabelle!?
(You reach out)
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🍳: FRIN, BELLE!!!!
(...)
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(You can finally see their face.)
(And, in a moment of perfect stillness...)
(You both know.)
(You open your mouth to ask, to plead, so say something, but-)
(You feel a tug on your stomach)
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fellthemarvelous · 4 months ago
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Jedi and attachment
The Jedi Order was around 25,000 years old when it fell at the end of the Clone Wars.
And I've seen people say "the Jedi don't teach emotional regulation" I guess because there are some Jedi who fell, but like, the number of Jedi who didn't fall far outweighs the number of Jedi who did fall.
And that's not to say that Jedi never made mistakes, but none of them gave into their anger and fear and hatred. Mistakes are normal, even for Jedi. Failure is the greatest teacher. They were apparently able to regulate their emotions well enough to actually learn from their mistakes and grow.
I'm not sure which part of "the life of a Jedi is not easy" isn't exactly translating well for some people.
What do people think Qui-Gon meant when he told Anakin being a Jedi would be challenging?
As Yoda said, it is a lifelong struggle not to allow fear to bend into anger. Fear leads to anger leads to hate leads to suffering. The Jedi never stop learning.
The reason they avoid attachments is because attachments distract them from the bigger picture, from their purpose. They are protectors and defenders of life, and they cannot be picky about who they choose to help, regardless of personal feelings.
As Obi-Wan has said, Jedi do not hold grudges. They cannot. They can be upset, yes, but they are given the tools to handle their emotions and often utilize them.
Anakin damned an entire galaxy when he fell to the dark side. The Jedi are not to blame for Anakin's fall. Anakin made his choice, and while he spent thirteen years being groomed by Palpatine, he made the choice to follow Darth Sidious.
ANAKIN FELL BECAUSE OF THE CHOICES HE MADE.
He is the one who slaughtered Jedi younglings. He's the one who slaughtered the Separatist leaders, and even though they were the enemy, they were defenseless and trapped in a room with the most powerful being in the galaxy after being sent there by Sidious and Grievous.
The reason the Jedi were so hesitant to accept him into the Jedi Order was because of his age. He was attached to his mother and his anger over her death is what caused him to slaughter an entire colony of Tusken Raiders. He didn't do it out of love. He did it out of hatred, and revenge is not the Jedi way.
It is not the fault of the Jedi that Anakin could not properly regulate his own emotions. He lied to the Jedi for three years. He hid his relationship with Padme, so how was Yoda supposed to know how to help him properly when he didn't have the full context? Of course his advice seemed bad because Anakin was not being forthcoming about the nature of his relationship with Padme. Yoda did not have a complete picture of Anakin's anxieties at the time, and while you can teach someone how to do something, you cannot control how they put the teachings into practice. You can only hope and trust that they are doing the right thing.
And the thing is, the Jedi would have helped Anakin and Padme. Yoda and Obi-Wan loved Anakin. We saw several instances of just how much Yoda cared about Anakin, especially so at the end of season six of the Clone Wars.
Anakin betrayed the entire Jedi Order because he allowed his fears to consume him. He participated in the genocide of the order he had been part of for thirteen years just to save the life of ONE PERSON who ended up dying anyway BECAUSE of him.
No one has ever said the Jedi Order is perfect because there is no such thing as perfect, but they were not ever the villains. They were never the bad guys. They were pulled into a war orchestrated by Darth Sidious who weaponized the compassion of the Jedi as a way to destroy the order.
When you look at the handful of Jedi who fell and claim that the Jedi "don't teach emotional regulation" you're just erasing all personal accountability from the fallen Jedi WHO MADE THEIR CHOICES.
There is only ONE Jedi (that I am aware of) who fell to the dark side involuntarily, and that was Ahsoka Tano. She was corrupted against her will and then killed. Anakin was able to resurrect her, and while he did a good thing, it only made his fear of losing her again even worse.
Maul murdered Satine and forced Obi-Wan to watch, but Obi-Wan managed to control his emotions and not go on a killing spree. He actually held a dying Maul in his arms. Ahsoka was failed by the Jedi Order, but she didn't fall to the dark side. Yoda lived for 900 years and never once fell to the dark side.
There are a variety of factors that went into Anakin's fall, but he is the one who made the choice to do the monstrous things he did. He was not being mind controlled. He had Jedi training, but he threw all of that away for one person. He gambled the fate of the galaxy on the belief that Palpatine would help him save Padme from dying, knowing that Palpatine was a Sith Lord and knowing that he was the one who was actually responsible for the war. He made a selfish choice at the expense of everyone else in the galaxy and the only person who won in the end was Darth Sidious. It was the biggest lesson that Anakin ever learned.
This is not a failure of "teaching emotional regulation". This is the failure of someone who allowed his personal feelings to overshadow his Jedi training, and he is responsible for the consequences of his own actions.
End note: This is not an Anakin Skywalker bashing post. I love Anakin Skywalker, but he absolutely is to blame for his fall to the dark side. He's a fascinating character. I could write a whole ass separate post on why I love him so much. Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader is an icon.
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thedevilsoftruth · 1 month ago
Note
Soo I have a request. Hehe. Specifically about Kyojuro 😍
Idea:
Tengen and Rengoku are sparring and rengoku is a little tense because of how his mission went last night. Tengen notices his frustration and stops the sparring session to see what his deal is. When Rengoku tells him he’s frustrated Tengen is understanding and he decides that theyre done sparring for the day. Tengen says hes on his way home to his wives but Rengoku says hes going to stay out for a little longer so he doesn't go home to y/n, angry. That's when Tengen gives him the idea to "take it out" on you.
Obviously Kyo thinks he meant hitting you to which Uzui quickly clears up when he rephrases and explains to release his frustrations sexually. Careful not to spare any details when telling Kyojuro of all the positions to put you in.
(Rengoku is pretty vanilla with sex so he doesnt do much other than missionary or eating you out)
So imagine your surprise, when he DOES get home, and after asking “do you trust me” he goes full throttle on you, his oblivious wife. I'm talkin backshots, full nelson, a mean locked in mating press, choking, spitting in her mouth, ass slapping and despite his rough manhandling his words are still so sweet. Like calling her his "perfect little flame" for taking him so well. 😍😍😍
and when they're done? shes so squirted and fucked out that she finally asks him why he was so angry and after all of that, he doesn't even remember. 🤣🤣🤣
HOLY FUXKITY FUCK NUGGETS WITH A SIDE OF BOOB SWEAT HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF KYOJURO YES QUEEN I AM ON THAT SHIT 🫡
Now I have not written any like actual HARD sex scenes since Marc Spector in like. March. But, I will try my best. I am sorry if it is not what you expected, some things you asked for I sadly did not incorporate into the fic because I wasn't comfortable with it. However, this is by far one of my LONGEST fics like. Ever. So please enjoy! ♥️
ᥫ᭡•-Wildfire-•ᥫ᭡
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Rengoku Kyojuro x afab reader
Summary: After having a really bad mission that ruined Kyojuros mood completely, Kyojuro spars Tengen but it becomes very apparent to Tengen that Kyojuro is upset. Tengen tries to comfort Kyojuro, but the conversation steers off into a long discussion of Tengen explaining how Kyojuro can take his anger out on his wife sexually. So, Kyojuro goes home to you ( his wife ) and does exactly as his old friend suggested.
W/c - 7k
Warning: Lots of sexual humor, mentions of violence, Tengen and Kyojuros amazing friendship, mentions of Tengen being a lifestyle dom bc fuck you that's why, strong language, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, dom! Kyojuro, reader is kinda shy and VERY submissive, tabletop sex, crying during sex, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, and Kyojuros filthy mouth. Not beta read!!!
[ Minors dni! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet! ]
Kyojuro Rengoku was a very patient man. A patient man that was never without a smile and was almost never angry. He was good with masking his anger and swallowing his issues. What's the point of holding onto negative emotions? If something bad happens to you, take it and move on with your life.
But he just could not seem to shake this cloud of pure frustration and sense of failure that was looming above his head. Why didn't he perform his best during his last mission? Why didn't he use the new techniques he needed to practice in his last fight? Why wasn't he training hard enough? Why wasn't he good enough?
His body was seething with anger. He was sweating badly from the stress he was feeling and his limbs felt as though they were on fire.
It was almost like an out of body experience. Like he wasn't even himself in that moment when he let out a blood curdling yell as he charged at his partner with his most powerful technique. His hands were gripping his blade so tightly that he was sure they would never be able to let out of it.
That was until the blade was flung across the field by a gloved hand.
" What's up with you, man? You trying to kill me? " Tengens familiar voice filled his ears, the tall man standing in front of him with an expression he had never given him.
Worry.
Kyojuro was suddenly pulled back into reality. His chest felt tight. The clothes on his body were starting to feel loose due to his fatigue. He looked around and took in his surroundings. The beautiful green trees rustling in the wind around him. The soft brown dirt below his feet. The tall man in front of him who he considered to be his best friend. But still, even through the whirlwind of intense emotions in his head, he was still able to put on his signature smile.
" I am sorry, lord Tengen. I suppose I got a bit carried away, didnt I? " Kyojuro said with a gentle laugh that filled Tengens ears. Tengen found himself staring at his best friend blankly.
" Oh you mean when you tired to cut my head off? " Tengen said bluntly.
What???
Kyojuros eyes went wide and he suddenly felt very embarrassed. He had never had a moment like that in sparring ever. He was usually on guard. He usually didn't let bad missions like that get to him, but today he was just constantly on edge, and that sparring round proved it.
" No more swords for today. " Tengen said, dropping his weapons and sitting on a soft patch of grass. " Come sit. Talk to me. " Was all he needed to say for Kyojuro to immediately go on a tangent.
Kyojuro was very open to people about how he felt about things. If he had an opinion, he would make the opinion known no matter what. He was a very emotional man who had a lot of empathy in his heart, so he tended to take things a bit harder than most people would. Kyojuro was a talker, and so was Tengen, but Tengen was able to lend a listening ear when it was needed.
" I suppose i was a bit overwhelmed. " Kyojuro started, picking at blades of grass beneath him. " My last mission didn't go too well. There were some techniques I wanted to try in battle that are new to me, but was too chicken to try them. " He explained to the man sitting next to him.
Tengen stared at him for a very long time. He blinked a few time, and then his face twisted into a look of pure and utter confusion.
" You're mad you didn't use those techniques?!! Did you forget that you are a literal demon slayer?? My man, you still have like. Five million other future missions where you can use those techniques in. " Tengen told his best friend in a loud voice, his hands making weird gestures as he spoke. Kyojuro chuckled.
" I know. I know. I guess I'm just mad that I didn't practice them enough. " He sighed. Tengen rolled his eyes and groaned.
" Come on, dude. Loosen up a little, won't ya? You still have all the time in the world to practice them. Plus, tomorrow Is a new day. You will have a better mission tomorrow. " Tengen provided the most comfort to Kyojuro that he could. He had his hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently and smiling at him. And Kyojuro had to admit that he was feeling a bit better, but he was still tense. He smiled back at him, but Tengen could tell by the way his shoulders were tense that he was still mad.
" You sure you're gonna be alright? " Tengen asked him as he stood up and grabbed his water bottle. " I need to head back home to my wife's. I've spent a long time away from them already, and I'm sure they're worried sick for me. " Tengen chuckled, picking up his swords, the metal of the chain making a nice clanking sound against the steel of the swords. Kyojuro looked around thoughtfully, his hands gripping his pants in frustration.
" I think I'm going to stay here and continue to train. " He spoke with a heavy sigh, standing up and picking up his sword. Tengen was in the middle of seething his swords when he suddenly stopped at his words.
" Why? " He asked simply.
" Because I don't want to return to my wife angry. The last thing that I need is to make her worried because I am upset. " Kyojuro spoke with a strange expression on his face. Tengen couldn't read him. It was an odd night for him. Kyojuro had been acting not quite like himself the entire night, and it all started when after they shook hands before sparring. But still, Kyojuro was his friend, and he would do anything he could to give him comfort.
" Listen, you're not perfect, dude. Your woman has to see both sides of you to really understand who you are. " Tengen spoke, moving closer to Kyojuro. " I know you're a perfectionist and want your woman to think nothing but good of you, but trust me bro, flaws are a great thing. Especially in relationships because that is what helps them grow. "
He finished off with one more quote, " If she can't handle you at your worst, than she doesn't deserve you at your best. " A gentle pat was laid onto Kyojuros shoulders, and he felt like he was almost starting to understand his old friend. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to process it yet.
Tengen was getting ready to turn his heel and part ways with his friend before he remembered something. His face twisted with a devious grin that just told Kyojuro he was up to no good. Tengen clicked his tongue and pointed his index finger at him, lightly wiggling it in the process.
" You know, if you're still a little bit tense when you get home... Hehe... " He leaned in, his voice a whisper as he draped his arm over Kyojuros shoulder. Kyojuro didn't like the look on his face. He was definitely about to say something dirty.
" You know how I'm a lifestyle dom.. yada yada, whatever, nobody fucking cares, they've all heard it before--but there's this thing I do with my ladies, alright? How do I put this.. " He took a deep breath, his marron eyes scanning the floor as he searched for the right words. " Whenever Im having a hard day, I like to ' take it out ' on my beautiful wife's. " Tengen said casually, almost as if it was any normal conversation.
What??!!
Whatever Kyojuro was expecting to here from him, it was not that. He knew his best friend was into really hard sex, but he didn't think it would involve that sort of stuff! He stared at him with wide eyes, not blinking for several seconds.
" You hit your wife's?! " Kyojuro blurted out very loudly. Now it was Tengens turn for his eyes to go wide in shock.
" What the fu--no!! What kind of fuckin animal do you take me for?! No I don't hit my wife's!! Why the hell would you think that?! " Tengen demanded, shaking Kyojuros shoulders violently as he shouted at him.
" You said ' take it out!! ' What does that mean, lord Tengen! " Kyojuro asked loudly with curious eyes and an uncanny smile. Tengen took his hands off of Kyojuro and sighed, bamboozled by his friends lack of sexual knowledge.
" Well you have a wife. You guys have sex, right? " Tengen asked as if the question wasn't completely obvious.
" Yes, but it's not as uhm... Flamboyant as the kind you have. " Kyojuro told him, his wide smile never flattening. Excitement arose within Tengens body, and he clapped his hands together and grinned.
" My man!!! " He exclaimed. " Okay here are some pro tips coming from big daddy Tengen okay-- "
" I am not calling you big daddy Tengen. " Kyojuro blurted. Tengen blinked a few times.
" Okay...I didn't ask you to--what? And I'd hope not, dude, you're married-"
" Is that what you have your wife's call you, lord Tengen? It is Flamboyant indeed!! " Kyojuro said in an uncomfortably loud and enthusiastic voice. Tengen could not believe what he was hearing, and he pushed his best friend to the side in an act of pure disgust.
" What??! No--okay, we're getting off topic. Point is-- "
" So the key to having better sex with my wife is to have her call me big daddy Rengoku? "
The silence was so loud.
Tengen lowerd down into a squatting position and put his elbows on his knees and heald his face in his palms.
" Somebody shoot me. " He muttered, his voice dripping with pure misery. " There is no way I just heard you say that. "
Kyojuro was having a very good hearty laugh. Tengen was drowning in utter despair. Kyojuro patted his friends back very hard and laughed even more.
" I am only joking around with you, my friend! Head up. I will allow you to speak now. " He told him, patting his back once more in reassurance. Tengen slowly rose back up and sighed dramatically. Kyojuro stood in silence, waiting for his friend to speak.
" I don't know how I will recover from that, but I suppose I can offer you some words of free advice. Your starting point is telling her what you will do to her, ask her for her permission and then go all out. " Tengen started. " Women like it when you're gentle and loving with them, yes, but they also can find it enjoyable when her man is a bit more rough and crazy in bed. It's way flashier than normal, vanilla sex. "
Kyojuro looked at him weird.
" ...In my opinion. " Tengen added, awkwardly averting his gaze.
" But you, my man, have been having a rough day. So be a bit more rough with her in bed tonight. Spank her, bend her over something, pull her hair, bite her. Let her feel what you are feeling inside, and let me tell you, it will be the best sex of your life. " Tengen felt kind of excited to be sharing this with his friend. Sex was his passion, and being able to share it and his ideas with people made him the happiest man on earth.
Kyojuro felt his mouth going dry at the thought of it. All of the ideas flooded his mind, and he felt his heart racing uncontrollably.
" You said uh... Bending her over? I've never done that before. " Kyojuro repeated, a lump forming in his throat as he spoke. Tengen took a sip of his water and raised his brows.
" Is that what got your attention ? " He grinned. " Chicks dig that shit, man. There's so much more than the classic missionary. Find a countertop, table, foot of the bed--anything and then bend her over it and go at it. Would you like to hear of more positions you can use? "
" Yes. " Kyojuro responded immediately, wanting to know everything he can do to relieve the stress he was still feeling.
" Enthusiasm. That's what I love to hear!! " Tengen laughed before he continued. " Now, of course, you can also do it standing with her legs wrapped around your waist if you're confident. You can also have her bent over with her hands to the ground for a bit of support and deep penetration. There's the flatiron position, the sandwich position, yada yada. "
Kyojuro listened deeply, taking in each word as a mental note as the sound hashira spoke to him. He sure was in expert in this sort of stuff, he was kind of like an encyclopedia for all things related to sex.
" Those certainly are some interesting choices, lord Tengen. Now what is the flatiron? " Kyojuro asked curiously. Tengen smiled.
" Another position where you are behind her. You get on your knees behind her and she leans her face into the mattress and warps her arms around the backs of her knees. It's simple. " Tengen explained. Kyojuro nodded, gathering all the information he was given into his mind and coming up with a plan for exactly what he wanted to do.
" Of course, if you still want to have a missionary but make it more interesting, you can bend her knees back to her chest or hook her legs over your shoulders. Just a few options. " Tengen continued. He stood back up from his squatting position and dusted his pants. He felt around his pockets, and checked himself to make sure he left nothing behind before patting his thighs and giving Kyojuro a large smile.
" I'll be on my way now, my friend. I wish the best for you. " Tengen told Kyojuro, bringing his hand out in a fist for a fist bump. Kyojuro did the same and their knuckles joined together, Tengen making a fake explosion sound as he dramatically uncurled his fingers from a fist. Kyojuro laughed like he always did when they fist bumped after long meetings together like this.
" Till the next time we meet, lad. " Kyojuro nodded at his friend as he began to walk away. Tengen turned to face him and saluted him.
" Have fun! " Tengen yelled before he ran off, quickly disappearing into the distance.
------
The sun was starting to set. The walk back home was excruciatingly long, and the longer Kyojuro spent away from you, the more he began to get irritated. Why couldn't he just magically be with you in an instant? Why did he have to walk through town where it was loud and bright just to get you you? Why don't people ever pay attention to where they are walking? Why did everything have to be so damn irritating?
It was already pitch black outside when he got home. When he entered the house, he was about to shout your name like he usually did when he got home and announce his arrival, but he found you coming out of your bedroom as he closed the front sliding doors.
" You're home. " You remarked, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He noticed you were in the red silky robe that you usually wore when you went to bed. He pulled away from the kiss to comment on it.
" Were you just in bed, my love? " He asked, his hands gliding up your sides and feeling the soft familiar fabric under his fingertips.
" Yeah I just woke up. I figured you would be back later so I wanted to cook you something. Are you hungry, should I still make you something-- " He cut your babbling off with a rough kiss, his hands moving to your jaw as he tilted his head and took your breath away with his kisses. You let out a surprised gasp at the contact, but you were not complaining.
" Why would I need you to make me something with I have my meal In front of me? " Your husband grinned wickedly, picking you up by your thighs and throwing his mouth back into yours, giving you absolutely zero time to react. You were so taken aback by the action, that you almost fell out of his arms from not wrapping your legs around his waist quick enough.
He didn't usually come home this way or say those kinds of things to you, so you were a bit shocked as you kissed him back. Of course he was a bit more forceful with it when he did it than you were, but that was because you were so shocked that it was like you had forgotten how to kiss him completely.
" Breathe. " Kyojuro said, setting you down on top of the kotatsu table in your dining room. You weren't used to this happening at all. You felt dizzy, especially having all of this happen just couple minutes after waking up.
" You okay? " He asked, his gentle calloused fingers reaching out to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. He gave you a smile, his golden eyes soft as he stared at you lovingly. You looked up at him with a curious expression, still trying to catch your breath from the previous intense kisses he had given you.
" Are you okay? What's all this about? " You asked him with a nervous chuckle and smile. He felt a pang of guilt stinging him by seeing how shocked and anxious you were. The last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He hushed you with another kiss, his hands gripping your hips harshly. He had this look in his eyes that you had never seen him with. It felt dangerous.
When he pulled away, his hand turned your body around so that you were laying on your stomach on top of the table. You yelped in surprise, feeling your husband's strong hands on your ankles and pulling your legs off the kotatsu table, your knees pressing against the floor beneath you. Kyojuro was not a weak man. None of the hashira were. They could all take you out with one single smack to the face, so the amount of strength that Kyojuro put into moving you made you feel like you would definitely have bruises where he grabbed you.
" Kyojuro! What has gotten into you? " You demanded, looking at him from behind your shoulder. His hands suddenly released most of the pressure he was putting on you, almost as if he sensed your discomfort. Sensually and slowly, Kyojuros hands ran a long your sides and stomach, feeling anything he could touch. He moved your hair around your neck, exposing some more of your skin to his hungry gaze, allowing his lips to latch on your soft skin.
You were starting to ease into his arms, but you were confused by the position. His lips pecked the sweet spot of your neck slowly, his left lands slipping down to your thigh and his right hand coming up to cup your breast through your robe, causing a little moan to escape your lips. He gently parted your legs and eased your body back down onto the table. You looked at him with raised brows as one of his hands went to touch the knot of your robe.
" I had a tough day at work, so I'm a bit irritated right now. I also know you're nervous, but do you trust me? " His voice was low and quiet against your ear. His hands stilled in place, not moving until otherwise told. " I will not proceed without your consent. "
Your cheeks were a light shade of pink. You were curious to see what he was planning exactly.
" I trust you. "You responded. Kyojuro had a tinge of a smile on his face, and he nodded his head and carefully undid the belt of your robe. Strong hands ran down your arms, stripping them bare of the clothes that acted as a barrier between you both. The actions were so gentle despite the things that he had planned for you that you had thought this was just going to be another regular sex session.
But it was something far more than that. The only reason Kyojuro was even being gentle with you in the moment was because he wanted to at least show you some sweetness before he would absolutely destroy you.
He unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other one keeping him busy as he began to rub your already dripping cunt through your panties. He slipped two fingers beneath the red lace of your panties, his other hand slipping his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring loose.
Kyojuros fingers felt through the silky, warmth of your wet folds. His other hand was pumping his pre-cum lubricated cock as he did this to you, looking at your form as your hips ever so slightly lifted off the table. Your lips parted, and a soft moan escaped your mouth as his fingers gently rubbed against your clit. His fingers rolled again the tiny bud in time with his other hand pumping his cock. But soon, he got tired of it, and he withdrew his fingers from you and hooked them onto your underwear and pulled them down to where they fell at your knees.
Your flesh was now completely exposed to him, your pussy already sensitive and oh so wet and welcoming for his hungry cock. His gently hands undid the clasps of your bra.
" Lift your arms. " He said. You did as told with no opposition. He rolled the straps of the bra down your arms and threw the garment off somewhere into the kitchen. You felt a familiar sense of adrenaline rushing through you, and you were excited but nervous.
" Am I not doing this on my back? " You asked him sweetly, looking over your shoulder where your gazes met. Your eyes were filled with innocence, and the thought of his sweet wife being so oblivious to the things he was going to do to her turned him on harder than anything else.
" Not tonight. Just relax. " He told you, rubbing his arms up and down your back. You took a deep breath and allowed him to do whatever he needed to because you trusted him. Kyojuro wrapped his hand around the shaft of his dick, bringing his cockhead up against your entrance before slowly inching his way inside you. The sensation stung a little as he worked his way past the tip, stretching you out almost painfully. Once he was in enough, he stopped for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size.
" Feel good? " He asked for reassurance. You looked at him and nodded. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. He set a slow and steady pace at first, grunting while he pushed his cock in and out of you. You had never had sex with him before in this position. It was all new to you but so incredibly exciting. And Kyojuro was enjoying it too, in fact, he may even have been enjoying it too much considering how he was mapping out in his mind the amounts of positions he was going to put you in.
" You know, " he trailed off, running a long finger up your spine and making your skin rise with goosebumps. " I can go on for hours if you'll let me. The only question is, can you keep up? " Even with him being behind you, you could just hear the smirk in his dark tone. You gulped hard at his words, your pussy fluttering against his cock as he slowly began to pick up the pace.
His hips rolled against yours, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and making your hips lift off the table once more. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, and your fingernails scratched the maple tabletop of the kotatsu table. You tried to lift yourself up by bracing your arms on the table, but Kyojuro was quick to splay his hand on your back and force you back down. You grunted, biting your lip in frustration as you fell onto the table. He grabbed your hips with both hands, his hips snapping against yours harshly and leaving you breathless.
" Not fair. " You whimpered, your eyebrows quirking up as you tried to find a comfortable way to lay your head.
" What's not fair? " He teased, knowing full well what you were referring to but wanting to hear you say it.
" You're... You pulled me back down. A-and going fast. " You answered, your legs shaking beneath him.
" I'm sorry, is this not your speed? Would you prefer me to be gentler? "
Kyojuros pace slowed and you whined at the lack of friction. Although, he did not intend for his words to come off as teasing, thats what you took it as and you were becoming very sexually frustrated.
" Why'd you.. ahh.. " you couldn't even finish your sentence from the amount of embarrassment you were in. Your face was bright red, your brows furrowed and your arms already feeling numb.
" See? Now you're a whimpering mess. " Each word was punctuated by a very harsh thrust that sent you screaming each time. You gripped the table beneath you, your face lifting off the table for a short while so you could moan and breathe.
" Is this what you want, sunshine? Huh? " He grunted in your ear, thrusting into you at a pace he rarely ever used. You were so shocked, so consumed by the pleasure that you couldn't even respond to him. Kyojuro twirled a thick bunch of your hair around his fist tightly and harshly pulled your head back so his mouth could meet your ear. You gasped at the pain, your shock only increasing.
" Where are those words, huh, sunflower? Just a moment ago you were all sassy. Is it that good? " He said in a sweet, almost even condescending voice. The emotions you were feeling were too much to handle. Who was this man? Had someone swapped out your loving husband for a more mean version of him?
Kyojuros hand raised and struck against your ass, the sound of the intense impact echoing off the walls. You bit your finger, a yelp escaping your lips from the smack. He had never once did that to you in your nearly 4 years of being his wife.
" Use your words, little flame. " He spoke, his tone genuine this time. Your lips parted, a string of saliva disconnecting your mouth from your finger as you pulled away from your hand. All you were able to get out was a shy whimper.
Kyojuro could sense your shyness and let out a dark chuckle that gave your pussy butterflies.
" Does my little flame like it rough now? " He purred straight into your ear, his lips pecking your neck. Your eyes became wide when one of his hands reached around you to mess with your clit. You felt like you were on fire, his cock ravaging you mercilessly and using your body. Your mouth was open in an ' o ' shape, endless moans and gasps leaving your mouth as pleasure engulfed your every essence like wildfire.
He was panting into your ear, grabbing your breast harshly as his cock slammed into you with brutal force. You bit your lip and your breath came out in short shudders. His fingers were circling around your clit sweetly, the duo sensation of his cock penetrating you and his fingers stimulating your clit making you shake. There was no doubt that you were about to cum.
And then Kyojuro got a sickeningly twisted idea.
He could sense your impending orgasm. Your walls were squeezing him as if he were a damn pencil, and you were becoming so incredibly wet. But he had other plans for you that night, plans that could prove just how mean he can be during sex. Of course, he always enjoyed giving you exactly what you wanted. He was a people pleaser, and he wanted you to be happy and satisfied even In the bedroom. But not tonight. Tonight, Kyojuro was a burning fire of rage, and he was going to show you just how angry he was.
He could tell how much you were enjoying it. How cock hungry you were becoming. So, before you could get that sweet release of an orgasm, he pulled out of you and withdrew his fingers from your clit, leaving you to feel empty. You looked at him with heavy lidded eyes, panting and confused.
" Why'd you pull out? I was almost there. " You whined, your cunt aching for his dick to stuff you and make you feel good again. Kyojuro gave you a sick grin that made your knees weak.
" Oh, don't worry about that, sunshine. You will get to come. Just not now. " He chirped, though there was an underlying of dominance and promise in his voice. And suddenly, like he had been doing all that night since he came back, he ambushed you by standing up and bringing you to your feet with him. He picked you up by your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to take you into your bedroom.
" Lets get you in here where it's more comfortable. " He spoke, kissing your neck and laying you down on your shared bed gently. He stood between your legs and unbottoned the top of his uniform in front of you, his chiseled, well defined abs. You stared at him in awe, your pussy aching for him even more by the mere sight of him. His arms flexed as he pulled the shirt up and above his head. He kicked his pants and boxers off his ankles, his dick finally in full view for you. You stared with hungry eyes, desperately trying your hardest not to start touching yourself.
Your husband sat on the bed next to you and backed against the headboard. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you deeply for a moment, his fingertips lightly playing with your clit for a couple of seconds before he pulled away from your lips. He looked you up and down, taking in your body.
" Turn around. " He instructed, giving your hips a nice smack. You shakingly did as told, your body incredibly weak even though it had only been one round. Your knees were bent on either side of his thighs as you lowered yourself into his lap. You had your back to his chest, and he carefully guided your body back down onto his still-hard cock. You whimpered softly as he entered you once more, filling your needy cunt that was so incredibly desperate for you.
Kyojuros warm hand went to your back once more and forced your body into the mattress. You grunted as he slowly began thrusting upward and into you. The penetration was so incredibly deep, his cock hauling in and out of your cunt leisurely. He kept his hand on your back, careful not to let you move around that much as that was exactly where he wanted you. Your face was smushed against the red silky sheets on the fluffy mattress, your fingers digging into the sheets.
Kyojuro groaned softly, the warmth your soft pussy provided his cock making him nothing else but buck wild. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't even going to stop himself from pulling his cock all the way out if you before slamming it back into you and making you scream aloud, gripping the sheets for dear life.
" Feel good, sunshine? You like that? " You heard your husband purr from behind you. Your eyes were closed shut so tightly that you were sure they would never open again. Your mouth was hanging open widely and you were drooling all over the sheets, nothing but satisfied moans leaving your lips. He chuckled at your state and smacked your ass again, the harsh impact making you wake up more and yelp. He switched the positions a bit, shifting to his knees and bending over your back.
" I asked you a question. " He growled, his voice low and almost threatening. One arm wrapped around your stomach, but the other snaked around your throat and heald you in a chokehold. Your mind began to scramble frantically. Kyojuro was never his hard with you in bed. Like seriously, you could just feel his anger by the way he even spoke to you.
" Yes-yes. " You choked, tears pricking your eyes as he somehow found a way to fuck you harder. His arm loosened around your neck to allow you to breathe but still had enough force on you to restrict your movements." Feels so good. " You moaned, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you began to cry silently.
" Good girl. " He praised, his voice rumbling against your ear. He kissed the top of your head and let go of your stomach, rubbing your clit once more. The pleasure made you gasp and become limp in his arms.
" So, so, good for me. " Kyojuro cooed, finally letting go of your neck so he could attack it with greedy kisses. You whimpered as his fingers dragged up and down your throbbing clit, your pussy squeezing him for dear life as your orgasm was starting to build up again.
Kyojuro couldn't help but look down between your two joined bodies. The way how your perfect cunt took his dick so good and warmly was egging him on, making him want to fuck you even harder if that was even possible. It was like had had become a different person that night. The way how he took hold of a chunk of your hair from the scalp and pushed your face back down into the mattress just went to show how hard he could go.
" Come on, little flame. Show me how good it feels, yeah? Come all over me, baby. Make a mess. " He encouraged with a rather light ass smack. Your lips parted and your face contorted in pure focus as you let him take you just how he wanted. He could feel how close you were again. And this time, he was feeling generous.
" Kyo...kyojuro--ooo. " You tried to say his name in between broken moans. A sadistic smile spread across your husband's lips as he looked down at you. He reached his arm around you and played with your bottom lip. It was puffy and red, swollen from all the kissing from earlier. His thumb dragged over it before he brought his two middle fingers into your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them.
" You sound so pretty. So broken. " He purred, pulling his cock out completely before slamming if back in with such a force that sent your body shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes were filled deep into the back of your head and suddenly, you couldn't take it anymore. You bit down in your husband's fingers as you came hard onto his cock, squirting all over his lap, the hot liquid dripping down his cock and into the sheets beneath you.
" Look at that. " He laughed darkly, pulling his cock out of you so he could run his fingers over your slippery folds. You couldn't hold the position anymore, so you crawled out of his lap and collapsed onto the bed on your back. Kyojuro gave you a disappointed look.
" Where do you think you're going? "
Fuck.
You shut your thighs and backed up as far as you could away from him until you almost reached the edge of the bed. Your husband pouted at you, looking you up and down and clicking his tongue.
" When did I say I was done with you? We barley even made it to dessert. " He joked in a sickeningly sadistic way as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you back underneath him. You gulped hard, a cold tear running down your flushed cheeks. He lovingly took your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.
Kyojuro leaned in to kiss you, his mouth moving against yours in harsh open-mouthed kisses as he picked your legs up by the backs of your knees.
"Are you okay? Do we need to stop? " He asked you, his expression completely and utterly serious. You were having a hard time catching your breath. You had felt light headed and your body was shaking. But even through the pain, you knew you could find pleasure. It also gave you some satisfaction knowing that your husband was feeling better doing this to you, so you nodded your head and smiled at him.
" I'm fine. Do what you need to do. " You said , opening your legs a bit further. Kyojuros lips curled into a wicked smile, and he positioned himself back between your legs, grabbing your knees and pinning them to your chest.
You felt the familiar feeling of his cock slowly being pushed into you once more. The feeling sent you whimpering and squirming around him. Overstimulation wasn't something you were used to. Nothing he was doing to you was anything like you were used to.
And the same thing could be said for Kyojuro. He wasn't used to going that hard, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't having the time of his life. His mind with flooded with lust as he immediately went to fucking you hard like before, not giving you anytime to relax. He just couldn't help himself. His mind was reeling, his body glistening with sweat as he pounded into you as if his entire life depended on it.
" Fuck, " he groaned, his head falling back in pleasure as he fucked you exactly how he needed to. The air around you was thick and warm, the room filled with the heavy pants and moans coming from the both of you. Your pussy was so incredibly sensitive after everything, and he just kept going. Your toes curled in the air, your hips lifting off the bed slightly as he increased his pace.
You let out soft squeaks as Kyojuro lifted your legs up and over his broad shoulders, allowing him to penetrate you deeper. He was putting you in positions he'd never put you in before. It was heaven on earth. The loud squelching noises coming from your incredibly wet cunt filled Kyojuros ears like sweet music. Not only that but the smell of your sex was intoxicating.
" Fuck, little flame.. " He moaned, kissing the parts of your legs that he could reach comfortably as he thrust into you at a steady, hard pace. " My perfect little flame. Taking me so well. " He praised, his sweet words sending butterflies to your pussy. Your face became hot, the sudden sweetness of your husbands words making thing seem oddly intimate after he practically fucked your brains out.
And, he just kept going. Fucking you slowly and hard, his strong hands gripping your thighs and his cock kissing every inch of your pussy. His sweet voice was telling you sweet nothings as he pushed his cock in and out of you with deep thrusts. He shifted his hips a bit, allowing him deeper access to your cunt until it hit that special part of you. You moaned loudly and threw your head back in ecstasy.
He lowered a hand between your thighs, and slowly began rubbing your clit while his hips began to pick up the pace. You let out a gasp and a deep moan, your hips jerking against his and your thighs shaking on his shoulders.
" Aww. Sensitive, are we? " Rengoku teased, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest. You nodded weakly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his fingers stroked your clit gently. His sweet words and actions were causing you to suddenly feel embarrassed. Especially because the position was so intimate and face-to-face.
Your face became red and you found yourself turning your head to face the wall instead of your ravenous husband. You brought your fingers up to your lips, suddenly aware of how loud you were being. Of course, it didn't take Kyojuro long at all to catch onto what you were doing.
" Dont be shy, sunflower. " He told you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the bed. You slowly looked back at him, too fucked out of your mind to respond in any way. Kyojuro leaned forward, your knees briefly pressing against your chest as he kissed you sweetly. " You know how important being able to hear your moans is to me. "
You let your mouth fall open a bit, your eyebrows twitching up and your eyes squinting as his cock seemed to be slamming into you harder. The hand around your wrists was holding you down so hard that it almost hurt.
" So scream for me baby. " Kyojuro purred, taking your breath away and making you gasp as he violently thrashed into you. You screamed at the contact, your hands vigorously scrambling for the red sheets beneath you as your husband ceased to surprise you. He let go of your wrist and used that hand to fondle your clit once more. How he was able to keep up like this after training so hard all day and the previous rounds he had gone on you was beyond you.
Your abdomen was starting to burn with another orgasm starting to build up within you. Kyojuro was feeling the same thing. He put down your legs to help you feel more comfortable, and you wrapped them around his waist, welcoming him in even deeper into you. He was panting, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, giving him access to your neck.
He sucked in the nape of your neck, his other hand rubbing tight circles around your oversensitive clit and his cock jamming against your g-spot. All of it was perfect. There wasn't any other way to put it, it was simply heaven.
" Kyo-Kyo-oo-juro. " You moaned shakingly, your legs clenching around his waist. He couldn't sense your orgasm building up again, and so he thrusted into you harder. You moaned with every thrust, and he growled in your ear.
" Louder. " He snarled against your ear, smacking your ass hard. You whimpered and weakly moved your mouth to his good ear. You moaned directly into it, your fingernails clawing at his back. He didn't seem to flinch at the contact, in fact, it only egged him on further. He kissed your neck sweetly before he bit down on it, inflicting a loud grunt out of you in the process.
" Kyojuro! " You yelled this time, bucking your hips towards his and arching your back off the bed while you clung onto him. You could feel his lips curling up into a smirk against your neck while he kissed you.
" Good girl. " He huffed, rising his body up and holding onto the headboard with one hand as he pounded into you. The headboard slammed against the wall, the bed creaking under your bodies as he fucked you in an almost animalistic way. The primal look in his eyes as he gritted his teeth and fucked you hard was something you had never expected to see in him.
It made your pussy ache just seeing him like he was in that moment. He still had one of his hands in-between your thighs, continuing to rub you clit. You scratched his forearm and squeaked loudly as he persisted to give you exactly what you needed. He was panting heavily, and he looked at you with heavy lidded eyes, his firey blond and red hair sticking to his sweaty face.
" Little flame, I am going to come soon. Where can I? " He asked, his voice husky but very hoarse, his fatigue finally starting to show after going on for so long. You curled your fist into the sheesh under you and looked back at him with an expression that mirrored his own.
" I-inside. " You muttered, your voice so quiet that his half-deaf ears didn't even pick up on it. The only way he even knew what you said was because he read your lips: a skill he had become a master of ever since he damaged his ear drums in battle.
Kyojuro flew his head back, his thrusts starting to slow down and become sloppy as his orgasm started to become more apparent. He braced his arms at either side of your head and stole your lips in another heated kiss. His hips shook, and hot ropes of his long-awaited orgasm finally spilling into your warm core. He buried himself to the hilt and sat still for a moment as he came inside you.
Your orgasm followed shortly behind his after he pulled out, keeping you busy and warm by fingering you and stimulating your sensitive clit. The hot liquid of your cum dropped down his fingers, and that was the moment when the both of you had decided that you were satisfied. His withdrew his fingers from your warmth and collapsed onto the bed next to you.
For several minutes, it was just the both of you trying to cool off without moving too much and laying next to each other, the room filled with your joined panting. You usually didn't immediately go to cuddling after sex because Kyojuros body had the tendancy to ' overheat ' like a battery and it took him a very long time to cool down. He turned to look at you, reaching his warm hand out to brush some loose strands of hair out of your face.
" How are you feeling? " He asked you, looking at you with a smile. You smiled back and intertwined your fingers with his.
" Good. Are you feeling better? You said earlier you were upset. " You recalled, getting butterflies as you remembered the way he bent you over the kotatsu table. He looked at you blankly like he usually did when he didn't hear what you said.
Kyojuro did not pick up on that last part of the sentence.
" Come again? " He leaned his good ear closer to your mouth, inviting you to repeat what you said.
" You said you were upset earlier. " You said, louder this time. " What were you upset about? "
Kyojuro chuckled and moved back to where he was before, propping himself up on his elbow.
" Who knows? I can't even remember. "
265 notes · View notes
redvexillum · 2 months ago
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@feral-fox-crypt I think I'm a psychic because I think you want rough sex with Alastor? Am I right or am I right? I want to dedicate this story to @dewdropdinosaur she has read some of my other rare pair fic during Kinktober/Flufftober and always left a comment that brought a huge smile to my face. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this one! 💖
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, human!alastor, rough s♡x, reader has sub drop, aftercare, bad BDSM etiquette, rough ♡ral s♡x, p in v, choking, hair pulling, belt whipping, dual POV, alastor is bad with feelings, multiple ♡rgasm (f!receiving), over-stimulation, crude language, degradation, d♡m/s♡b, alastor is d♡m, reader is s♡b, minor hurt/comfort, alastor catches feelings for reader
✨️ recommended to read c☆ckwarming first for a fulsome experience ✨️
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The sound of slick, wet slurping filled the room, obscene and unashamed, like a starved animal devouring a long-awaited meal.  
Alastor sat back, his glass of bootleg rye balanced in one hand as he stared out the window, eyes fixed on the darkened shed outside. His grip on the glass tightened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes narrowed, fury simmering beneath the calm veneer he struggled to maintain. It was a cold, bitter fire that burned hot in his chest, ignited by his own failure. 
He had let his prey escape. 
The papers were a humiliating testament to that. The Bayou Butcher, mocked openly, ridiculed. The survivor had painted a vivid tale of bravery, twisting the truth until Alastor was depicted as a bumbling fool—a pathetic predator who’d somehow let a prize slip through his fingers. Every word mocked him, taunted him, kindling the rage that boiled just beneath his polished surface. 
With a low, guttural growl, he seized a fistful of your hair, dragging your mouth off his cock with a loud, wet pop. Your eyes, hazy with lust and adoration, lifted to meet his. Your bruised, swollen lips parted as you gasped for breath, desperate for his approval even now. Your lips had been wrapped around him for the better part of fifteen minutes, greedily sucking him down, each needy pull of your lips drawing the otherwise dormant arousal to life.  His cock twitched at the sight of your expression: you wanted more, no matter how he took you. 
“S-sir?” you breathed, voice soft and trembling as your bare, supple body quaked under his fierce gaze. He could feel every small tremor against him as your hardened nipples brushed his legs, the friction sending jolts through you with each hitch of your breath, each restless grind of your thighs, trying to soothe the ache that pulsed between them. 
A smirk tugged at his mouth, dark and almost cruel, as he released his hold on your hair. “Come,” he commanded, low and dangerous, enjoying the thrill that coursed through you at the sound of his voice. You obeyed instantly, crawling toward him on all fours, desperate and shameless, just as he’d taught you—like the bitch in heat he’d once sneered you were, back when he had taken you in the dark intimacy of his radio station, his cock deep in your throat to muffle your needy moans. 
You were such a simple creature, so delightfully obedient. Alastor couldn’t fathom how any woman would indulge his depravity the way you did, how you could revel in the filthy things he made you do. 
But there you were—a rare, eager little pet, his perfect plaything, someone so willing to lay bare her body and soul for him that he’d found himself unwilling to discard you. You were a treasure he had now taken into his home, cherishing you like a prized possession. 
His cock throbbed at the sight of you, and his eyes tracked the sway of your breasts as you crawled toward him, each movement sending them into a pendulous swing that only fuelled his arousal. 
Your expression was one of pure, open adoration, your gaze filled with the kind of devoted bliss that soothed the sting of failure in a way nothing else could. His anger ebbed as he watched you, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar possessive warmth that simmered and coiled low in his gut. 
As you reached him, he knelt down, exposing himself fully, his arousal drooping slightly from lack of stimulation. But you, sweet and eager as always, hastened to rectify that, fingers wrapping firmly around him as you stroked him, forming a tight ring with your delicate hand. You leaned in, the tip of your tongue flicking over the head of his cock, and a shiver ran through him. With just a few teasing licks, you brought his desire roaring back to life, your skilled, needy mouth working magic on him with effortless grace. 
Alastor’s hand drifted to your head, fingers curling gently in your hair as he began to stroke it, his touch uncharacteristically soft, almost tender—a rarity that had your cheeks flushing as you stared up at him. Your lips curled into a blissful smile, basking in the affection he so seldom gave, your fingers still wrapped around him as you savoured his touch. 
You were nothing to him.  
He reminded himself of that with each pulsing beat of his arousal, each hungry sweep of your tongue over him. 
You were a diversion, a pastime, a convenient release for those primal urges that not even he could deny. And yet, as he gazed down at you, a small thrill surged within him, intoxicating and delicious. 
“Suck,” he murmured, his voice a soft, commanding whisper, devoid of emotion yet laced with something he had yet been able to name. 
You responded instantly, need and devotion glimmering in your eyes as you wrapped your lips around him, forming a tight seal at his tip before taking him deeper, letting him fill your mouth. Your tongue traced over him with soft, teasing strokes, and you began to bob your head, each movement drawing a low groan from his throat as he watched you. 
You were hopelessly clumsy—always fumbling, tripping, and blushing every time he so much as looked your way. But he loved the effect he had on you, how that heavy blush painted your cheeks every time he took control, how you quivered with each command. And no matter how rough he was with you, how often he pushed you to your limits, you only came back for more, craving everything he would give. That thought alone made a sharp grin spread across his face. 
A dark, possessive desire simmered in his gut, and he felt the twisted thrill of knowing just how easily you surrendered to him. You were the perfect woman...pet for him—the way you willingly, eagerly, gave up control, placing your complete trust in him. The way you looked up at him with reverence, even now, as he twisted his fingers in your hair and tugged sharply. A delicious shudder ran through you as he thrust forward, pressing deeper until he heard that lovely, choked whimper, felt your throat tighten around him. Yet, even then, you didn’t pull away; you stayed, devoted and unyielding. 
Like a loyal dog. Like a bitch in heat. 
... Like his cherished, obedient... pet.
The sound of his harsh breaths mixed with your muffled moans and wet, sloppy noises filled the room, each messy gulp of yours sending a wave of satisfaction through him. Drool began to slip past your lips, clinging to your chin in a thick, sticky mess. As he looked down, he felt a realization settle in his chest—a rush of certainty that you would stay by his side until death itself claimed you. You would be there, smiling up at him with that same innocent adoration, even if he stood drenched in the blood and gore of his latest kill. 
You, his perfect, shameless... lover, would fulfill his every dark desire unquestionably, wouldn’t you? 
In one swift motion, he pulled you off his cock, and your breath hitched as you looked up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy with need. The sight of you—so willing, so utterly ravished—sent a pulse of heat straight to his core, and his cock throbbed, painfully hard at the sight. Since when had you looked so divine? When had he started craving you like this? 
Why did he want to consume you whole? 
He took your hair in his hand again, a makeshift leash, and guided you to his bedroom. You stumbled as you tried to match his strides, hands and knees scrambling to keep up, yet you didn’t utter a single complaint. Instead, your wide, needy eyes were begging, pleading for him to take you, to give you every piece of himself.
When he crossed the threshold, he paused, feeling a strange sense of anxiety. This would be the first time he’d take anyone, you, in a bed. 
For the first time, he wanted to ravage you on something softer, something that allowed him to enjoy every moment, every gasp, every twitch of your body. Every other time had been in rough, illicit places: his office, the hidden corners of alleyways, beneath the cover of twisted trees in the bayou, or pressed against the cold, unforgiving floor. 
He stopped at the edge of the bed, watching as your trembling fingers reached up to trace the outer seam of his pants, awaiting his next command, your eyes so full of devotion it made his chest ache in the strangest of ways.
A thrill of ownership surged through him; you were his in every way, weren’t you? His pretty, obedient plaything. His perfect, precious pet. 
And you, he realized with a dark satisfaction, were entirely his. 
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You were a strange girl.  
You knew you were.  
Excitement pulsed in your veins as Alastor, the one man who owned your every thought, invited you to his home. The whole way there, nerves danced beneath your skin, feeling the weight of his silence as he drove you deep into his bayou. This was a first—he’d never brought you into his home before. 
Heat flooded your core at the thought of what he might do to you. Alastor was the only man who didn’t treat you as fragile. The only one willing to satisfy every dark, unhinged desire you harboured, needs that would make anyone else turn away in disgust. But he never looked at you with revulsion during these acts, save for that lingering smirk when you fumbled over your duties. 
You were happy—beyond happy.
Being with Alastor made you feel more alive than you’d ever been. 
Now, completely bare before him, you knelt, wanting to whine, to beg him to take you in whatever twisted ways he pleased. 
But...as your eyes traced his expression, you realized that there was something different about him today. His usual rough, unyielding exterior softened, showing a rare glimpse of something tender, something reserved only for you. 
“Get on the bed,” he ordered, his voice low, demanding, with a hint of cruelty that made your stomach tighten. 
You scrambled, snapping from your trance. But after kneeling for so long, your legs wobbled beneath you, and you stumbled back to the floor, wide-eyed as you looked up. A cold, dangerous smirk curved his lips. 
“So you can’t even follow a simple order, can you?” he mocked, voice dripping with condescension. “And what did I say I’d do when you can’t follow orders, dear?” he hissed, fingers pulling his belt from its loops with an agonizing slowness, the sharp slide of leather against fabric filling the silence. 
Your breath caught, the thrill of fear mingling with a rush of wet heat between your thighs. You remembered all too well—the time he bent you over a tree for not bringing his dry cleaning on time, each slap echoing through the bayou, burning itself into your memory. 
“That you’d punish me, sir,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice trembling. 
“Correct. Ten strikes.” He grasped your upper arm, pulling you to your feet, only to toss you onto the bed. You landed face down, the plush fabric against your skin as you arched your ass up for him. 
A chill swept down your spine as he traced the belt’s cool edge over your heated skin, dragging it slowly along your soaked, sensitive folds. The slick sound of your arousal coating the leather mingled with your ragged breaths, filling the room. 
And then, without warning, the belt sliced through the air, landing with a sharp, punishing crack on your bare skin. 
“Ahh!” you gasped, your body lurching forward as you pressed your face into the mattress. “O-one,” you whimpered, each heartbeat amplifying the sting as your clit throbbed, the pain melding with pleasure. 
A fire sparked beneath your skin, flaring with each strike as Alastor whipped the belt against you again and again. You counted each one, voice wavering between cries and sobs, drool trickling down to meet the tears blurring your vision. Your thighs quivered, struggling to keep your ass raised, eager for him. On the seventh strike, when the belt caught your slick, needy folds, you felt a wave of shame as liquid spilled from you, glistening on your skin. 
A low, desperate moan escaped your lips as your walls clenched, craving something to fill the aching emptiness. 
Alastor’s sharp, mocking laugh sliced through the haze, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Coming without permission now, are we?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer, raining down the final strikes in swift, merciless succession. 
Your cries softened, a mixture of raw pain and bliss as you trembled, knowing that the bruises would mark you for days. Each ache would bring you back to this moment, reigniting the desire pooling within you. 
Then, without warning, he pressed three thick fingers into you, plunging deep. Alastor leaned over your arched back, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. “How dare you be this wet when I’m punishing you,” he growled, his fingers relentless as they drove into you, the sound of your slick, desperate flesh echoing in your mind. 
Your body writhed, pressing back, eager for more, your hips grinding against his hand as he filled you. “Please, please, sir, I need you,” you finally gasped, voice choked with want, your vision blurred with pain and overwhelming pleasure. 
The tension snapped in the air as Alastor's voice, pitched with a teasing, dark delight, pierced the haze surrounding you. 
“Do you now?” he mocked, his fingers glistening with your desire as he slid them from your mouth. Gripping your hips, he yanked you back into position, aligning his thick, throbbing head with your dripping entrance. Before you could even brace yourself, he sank in, burying himself to the hilt in one fierce thrust that ripped a sharp, needy cry from your lips. Before you could release it fully, his slick fingers thrust back into your mouth, muffling your gasps as your body clamped tightly around him. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, the heady blend of his dominance and your surrender driving you mad as he stretched you with each brutal plunge. You could do nothing but cling to him, letting him bounce you up and down with each pounding thrust that had you soaring, the friction of him catching at every perfect spot inside you. The delicious ache of being stretched so completely consumed you, your clit throbbing as his cock teased your depths, nudging your cervix and filling you with intoxicating waves of pleasurable pain that left you reeling. 
Your muffled moans mixed with his guttural groans, the raw sounds of your bodies filling the room as he drove into you. When he finally pulled his fingers from your mouth, he circled them over your swollen, desperate clit, wringing a broken, gasping wail from you as another wave of pleasure shattered through you. His fingers never stopped their relentless teasing even as you came, your body helpless against the mind-melting ecstasy that left you a sobbing, trembling mess. 
By the time he tossed you onto the bed, you were barely aware, your body limp and pliant. Your leg draped over his shoulder, he resumed, driving himself into your swollen folds. 
Your shameless moans filled the air, the slick sound of him claiming you echoing as he pounded deeper, harder, unrelenting. Gripping your breast, he squeezed, his thumb rolling over your sensitive nipple, sending sparks through your already sensitized body. Your back arched, surrendering every part of you to him, your tears mixing with the damp sheets as you lay bare, offering yourself to his every whim, every desire. 
Then his hand was at your throat, his fingers wrapping around, pressing just enough to cut off your breath to reach the edge of oblivion. His cock throbbed deep inside you as he watched you, eyes glinting with manic delight. With each bruising thrust, he tightened his grip just enough for your vision to darken, and with that growing pressure, a new wave of pleasure bloomed inside you, sharper, more intense than before. Just as your world began to blur, he released you, and you gasped, the rush of air into your lungs sending you spiralling as a fierce, desperate climax ripped through you, shaking you to your core. 
Your soaked body trembled uncontrollably, each pulse of his cock within you driving you deeper into a haze of pleasure. His hold never wavered as he brought you to the edge again and again, until there was nothing left but the raw, aching, consuming pleasure that marked you as his. 
The heat between you was overwhelming, each breath catching as you rocked on his cock, feeling every thick inch filling you deeply. You could barely process the bliss, but you didn’t stop, even as your thighs quivered, and your mind spun, surrendering completely. 
Alastor threw his head back, his usual control slipping as he gripped your hips, his own movements coming to a halt while he let you take control for the first time, guiding his cock deeper with your rhythmic movements. 
"That's it, dear," he murmured, almost to himself, his voice husky and rich with praise. His release flooded into you, thick and hot, and he let out a small, breathy moan as you continued to move, clenching around him to draw out every last wave of his pleasure. “Take every single drop,” he muttered, the words leaving his lips with a fervent, almost reverent edge. 
Finally, he softened and slipped free, his seed mixing with your own arousal as it dripped between your thighs. He let himself fall back, his gaze heavy-lidded but still drawn to you, watching as you slumped, exhausted and trembling. Your legs splayed apart, arms limp, and your face a mess, wet with both tears and the remnants of your desire. Breathing raggedly, you tried to ground yourself, but your mind still floated in that heady haze, every muscle vibrating with the aftershocks of pleasure. 
You stared up at him, craving more, more of...you weren't sure what you craved. But you wanted to feel him, whatever he was willing to give you. Even as your body barely held itself together, you forced yourself to move.
The thought of, please don't leave, echoing in the dark recesses of your mind. 
A warm, low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and before you could react, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. Something in you seized up, a flood of warmth welling up behind your eyes as he pressed you against him. 
Normally, he’d leave by now, always returning to whatever occupied him after these indulgent moments. Your fingers trembled, hovering uncertainly over his back, unsure if this was something you were truly allowed to reciprocate. 
Alastor had taken you farther than anyone else, yet he also left you feeling more alive and more vulnerable. 
As the thrill of the moment faded, you often felt a pang of sadness after, not knowing how to tell him that all the intensity seemed to leave a hollow ache in your chest. You bit your lip, not wanting to risk anything that might make him see you as clingy or overly attached. 
“Go on, dear.” His voice held that playful lilt, but underneath it, there was an unfamiliar warmth. “You know how to embrace, don’t you?” 
Hesitantly, you let your arms wrap around his shoulders, feeling the roughness of his suit and the warmth of his skin beneath. Tears spilled over your cheeks as you pressed yourself to him, breathing in his scent, feeling a strange fullness you hadn’t experienced before—a feeling beyond just your body. He didn’t let go, instead rubbing a gentle hand along your back, wordlessly accepting your embrace. 
“Sorry,” you stammered, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I’m not sad; I swear I’m not…” 
You wanted to tell him that the happiness you felt when he held you like this was overwhelming.Maybe you were a strange girl with strange feelings, but right now, held tightly in his arms, you felt more complete than you ever had before. 
For the first time, Alastor’s hand stroked your hair, each touch gentle and unhurried, melting away the last of your reservations. And as the tears continued to fall, he held you there, secure in his grasp, until you finally drifted into sleep, feeling a place of belonging and acceptance in his embrace. 
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stxrvel · 5 months ago
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series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!
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There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.
Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.
Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.
There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.
“Yuna.”
Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.
But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:
“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”
Four pairs of eyes bore into you.
“What?”
You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.
“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”
Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.
The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.
“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”
You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.
“And what did she say to you, honey?”
Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.
“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”
Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.
“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”
Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.
“Why did you do that?”
“What did I do?”
“Sol told me it was your idea.”
“That's not true!”
“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”
Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:
“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”
The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.
“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”
“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.
Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.
“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.
“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”
Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.
If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.
Your friend finally softened her gaze.
“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”
“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”
Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.
“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”
There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.
There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.
“Are you still upset, noona?”
Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.
It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.
“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”
“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”
Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.
“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”
“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”
“And I can't handle both?!”
“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”
Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.
“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”
You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.
“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”
When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.
“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”
Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.
“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.
“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.
Seojun sighed dramatically.
“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”
Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.
“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”
Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.
“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”
Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:
“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”
Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.
“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”
“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”
Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.
“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”
Your mom nodded, not very convinced.
“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”
“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.
“… no…”
“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”
“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”
“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”
“That's an exaggeration, mom…”
“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”
“…I muffled a few words.”
A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.
“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.
“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.
“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”
“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”
You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:
“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”
-
“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”
Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.
But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.
That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.
“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”
Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.
“Tae!”
“Why are you doubting it?”
“I never said I was doubting it.”
Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.
“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”
“y/n!”
Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.
“Don't ever do that again.”
“Then don't ever doubt you again.”
“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”
“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.
“Honest...?”
“Shut up, Jimin.”
The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.
“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.
“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”
“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”
“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”
“Uh-huh…”
“Stop it, Jimin!”
-
He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.
So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.
A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.
“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”
“Who contacted you?”
“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”
Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.
“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.
“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”
Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.
Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.
Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .
But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?
“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”
He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.
Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?
“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”
Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.
It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.
Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.
The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.
“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”
Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.
“I've never asked you for anything…”
“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”
And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.
“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”
Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.
“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.
“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”
He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.
He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.
-
i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!
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