#could have been hers in a much more truthful and complex way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojisbbygworl · 8 months ago

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The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do.

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too.

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk?

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?”

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #dark content #very dark #be warned it’s dark #toji fushiguro #toji

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inbarfink · 10 months ago

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So one of the cool and interesting ways ‘Steven Universe’ used to try and balance being both a series of 11-minutes episodes that each have their own satisfying emotional resolution and being an overarching story with complicated character arcs that take multiple seasons to resolve is the… I’m going to call it the ‘Not Quite Right Lesson’ episodes. Episodes where a character kinda learns a Very Important Lesson… but a more careful and retrospective look at the situation shows that what they learned is not Quite the Right Thing for them. They internalized something in that adventure which just ended up causing more Emotional Troubles for themselves farther down the line.

‘The Test’ is the most classic example.

As a standalone thing, it’s just a sweet episode about Steven learning to accept that his caretakers are also flawed and confused and figuring this shit up as they’re going along just like he is, and then doing a nice thing for their sake.

But looking back at this episode, it is quite obviously the nadir of Steven appointing himself as the Family Therapist and repressing all of his problems so he could better help the Gems’ with theirs. Like, there have been some early warning signs for this Complex, but this episode is the one that really cemented that idea in his mind and probably the reason it took him like the Entire Rest of the Show Including a Post-Finale Season to really untangle it.

But… also, I’ve been thinking a lot about the episode right after that, ‘Future Vision’. I think it’s also a very important ‘Not Quite Right Lesson Episode’ for the character of Garnet, and to some extent, the Crystal Gems as a whole. In many ways, it is to the CGs' character arcs' what 'the Test' is to Steven's.

So in this episode, Garnet reveals to Steven the fact that she has Future Vision. She hoped that telling Steven a little bit more about herself and being honest with him will lead to a greater understanding and a greater bond between them… but it backfired. It just led Steven to become a total paranoid, terrified wreck stuck in a total existential crisis.

And it seems like the lesson Garnet learned is that… she should’ve never taken that risk at all. That it would’ve been better for everyone if she just kept Steven ignorant of the truth forever.

Extremely reinforced with the ending of the episode, where Garnet chooses to once again hide an uncomfortable truth (that he just came very close to dying again) from Steven, for the sake of his own ‘peace of mind’.

So, like, the Gems were already hiding uncomfortable truths from Steven since day one. “If you could only know what we really are” and all of that. But I think… With the actual truth of Homeworld encroaching on them more and more at this point of the story arc, this would’ve been a great time for the Gems to reconsider their attitude and actually Explain to Steven What the Hell is Going On.

But instead, I think Garnet saw the events of ‘Future Vision’ as a reinforcement of the idea that there’s just some things Steven is Better Off Not Knowing. Actually being frank with him about Homeworld and the Diamonds and the War right there and then, that would have just overwhelmed Steven with fears and worries and would’ve ended up doing nothing but hurting him. And Garnet can’t accept that possibility, not again.

And so, Garnet, alongside Amethyst and Pearl, keep all these truths from Steven as long as possible. Only revealing bits of information when they have to. For Amethyst it’s about her emotionally-evasive attitude (also, she legit doesn’t know all of that stuff herself). For Pearl it’s about how she learned to romanticize Rose’s own fucked-up obsession with secrets. For Garnet, with her usually very direct attitude and preference for the most straightforward solutions, I think it’s very much the events of ‘Future Vision’ that were still playing in her head every time she had the choice to actually Explain something to Steven and decided not to.

But that, indeed, was Not Quite the Right Lesson. While being bluntly and directly told by Garnet all about the Many Ways He Could Die caused Steven to go into an anxiety spiral and an existential crisis for an episode - the way the Gems have been consistently secretive and evasive with Steven ended up causing him so much more emotional grief to him in the long run. As all of these secrets ended up revealed to him in the most surprising, dramatic and traumatizing way possible.

And the secretive attitudes ended up driving a wedge between Steven and the Gems.

Even after they promised to be more honest with him. Because the sight of Steven crying on the roof that day is one that Garnet can easily move away from. Because Garnet’s Not Quite Right Lesson was almost as difficult for her to unlearn as Steven’s own.

But after the big confrontation at the start of the Zoo Arc, Garnet ended up being the most upfront about the Crystal Gems’ history. Almost overeager to share what she knows about the past.

I mean also, again, Amethyst just has less to tell and Pearl is hiding secrets for reasons beyond her control - but I think it’s also important to consider from the perspective of Garnet’s arc.

Because the fallout of the Pink Diamond Reveal is very much centered around Garnet (or, well, Ruby and Sapphire). That was the Truth that was hidden from her 'for her own good'. And at the end of the day, despite all the grief that unveiling that truth has caused

It has also brought them, all of them, a lot closer.

There's a reason why 'the Truth' is Garnet's Final Missing Piece in the movie. It is as central to her character arc in the series as Lesbian AngstTM grief over lost love is to Pearl.

And still, some remnants of the Trauma of 'Future Vision' remained...

After all, even the very last episode of 'Future' was centered around the Gems once again trying to hide things from Steven (at that case, their turmoil about him leaving) for his own sake

Even though it once again just caused Steven a whole lot of grief.

It's maybe notable that at the end of this episode, Garnet, once again, tells Steven what's waiting for him in his Future...

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love-byers · 3 months ago

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the first time i saw this, when i was NOT a byler shipper, i thought el was running TO mike. i thought we were getting a sweet moment where el runs to mike and he puts an arm around her or hugs her.

then i realized she was running away from him.

and i was like, why?? they're supposed to be the couple why does she not want his comfort??

and even after will calls her out on doing mike wrong by lying to him, even after she sees that mike is attempting to talk to her and comfort her, that he's not angry at her, she still tells angela to lie to mike. more lies. that's how much she cares about keeping up the persona. had angela lied to mike, el would've continued lying to him the entire week. something she knows in her heart is wrong and not fair to mike.

this is a theme in s4. putting who you want to be seen as before being honest with your bf/gf. going above and beyond to preserve your lie, to be seen as who you want to be.

chrissy does that with jason. who she portrays herself as is completely different than who she really is and what she's really going through. jason has absolutely no idea chrissy is struggling and refused to believe chrissy would buy drugs, because chrissy didn't want to tell him. who knows how jason would've reacted if chrissy was honest, we don't know because chrissy didn't trust him enough to tell him. that's not love at all, that's sad.

this is a point in s2 as well. murray calls nancy out for being afraid to be her true self, and she stays with steve because she doesn't have to be her true self around him. she is her true self when she's with jonathan, and that's why they worked together. that's love.

the exact same thing happens with chrissy. the first time we see her genuinely smile is when she's with eddie. she's sweet and charismatic, and had she lived she totally would've gone to eddie's show, something you never would've expected from her, something her boyfriend, the person she pretends to love, would NEVER do.

robin and steve reinforce this too

you fall in love with the person who makes you feel accepted, the person who makes you feel like you can be who you are. the person you trust with your true self.

mike and el don't trust each other enough, they don't understand each other well enough.

they would have to change their behavior towards each other by leaps and bounds, and we're already at the last season. there is no time for that. stranger things isn't a multi season show about the complexity of romantic relationships and the healthy way to resolve problems. there is no time for that in just about any movie or show, especially a sci-fi show. you know what's way easier and way more likable? pairing your character with someone they naturally click with, who bring out the best in each other and for some reason can't help but be their authentic selves when they're with each other.

did it with jancy, like i said earlier

did it with lumax. when lucas and max talked on the bus max found herself spewing about things she'd never even said out loud before, and she had to stop herself. something about lucas just made her feel comfortable, like she could be herself and tell the truth. she trusted him.

"You're nothing like your brother, okay? You're cool and different, you're super smart, and you're like, totally tubular."

jopper too! joyce constantly had to hide things from bob, she was insecure about their family not being normal.

"This is not a normal family."

"It could be."

though bob had good intentions, the message of the show is not trying to be normal when you aren't. whatever it is about you that makes you weird or different, whatever you've been through that changed you, stay true to it. dont bottle it up and try to be someone else. all of vecnas victims in s4 were doing this, and it didn't end well for them.

they even did it with dustin and suzie. dustin constantly tries to impress max with his teeth, then in season 3 he says suzie thinks kissing is better without teeth. he doesn't have to be insecure about that or try to impress her. she likes him for him.

mike isn't comfortable being his true self around el either. he's insecure about his interests, he feels like he has to act older and cooler to impress her.

you shouldn't be with the person you feel you have to impress. you should be with the person who relieves that pressure, who makes you feel like being the authentic you is enough.

jonathan and nancy, lucas and max, joyce and hopper, dustin and suzie,

cough WILL AND MIKE cough...

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #mike wheeler i know what you are #stranger things 4 #milkvan is bones #anti milkvan #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #lumax #lucas sinclair #max mayfield

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lessi-lover · 6 months ago

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feather light love II l.williamson x l.walti

summary: you begin to notice that leah is around a lot more ★ feather light love II l.williamson x l.walti

you had begun to notice that leah seemed to have moved herself into your house to live with you. her things started to appear more frequently around your home, it was her coat hung on the rack near the front door, or her favourite mug that had nestled its way next to the others on the shelf.

you'd spot her waiting with a smile, her hand stretched out for your own when she started to pick you up from daycare with mummy on most days, and you could tell that she had been coming over to sleep more than the rest of your mummy's friends.

at first you didn't quite understand why leah couldn't play with you like mummy could. you had been to a lot of your mummy's matches and leah could play really well there. so it was weird that at home, or at least for the last few months, leah wasn't able to play with you in the garden like she had been able to when you first met her when mummy moved to arsenal.

besides, leah had become a constant presence in your life. she helped you with so many things; she helped you bake a cake when it was mummy's birthday, she took you out the park to play at the playground, and when you struggled to speak in english she would help you practice your english when you reverted back to swiss, playing games with you whenever she got the chance.

sometimes you wondered if mummy and leah were more than friends, even if you wanted to believe that they were just really close. leah, just like your mummy, was able to see when you needed a hug and you deemed that she gave the best hugs in the world. you loved the way leah made your mummy smile and the way she made you feel safe and loved.

you were fine, though. you loved leah as much as leah seemed to love you, and you would have had no issue if she and your mummy did say they were together. but you didn't fully understand the complexity of relationships yet. sometimes, you wished they would just tell you outright. it felt like a secret everyone knew but you.

in truth, lia and leah were definitely something more than friends. the pair by now knew that they were creeping into the deep end in which soon enough they were going to have to tell you, even if things didn't work out between them.

they had been tipping over the edge for months now, and to be honest lia had thought that maybe you already knew about the couple and were just waiting for them to break it to you themselves.

but lia was adamant that she wanted to continue giving you a stable environment and that she wouldn't expose you to her relationship in fear that it wouldn't last, she didn't want you to become attached and experience withdrawal because of a breakup.

for the past few weeks you had seen leah's sore knee slowly heal, or what you saw as a progression when she stopped needing the crutches to walk around and was now able to lift you up high in her arms like she did before.

you, mummy and leah often had movie nights, where you would lay between the couple and watch a film until one of them carried you off to bed when you fell asleep halfway. you would cozy yourself into your mummy's lap, leaning on leah's body as your eyes began to droop in tiredness.

you would wake up every so often, giggles sounding as you watched whatever was happening on the screen. leah's laugh soft in your ears as she brushed away loose strands of your hair, her head nestled with lia's behind you.

"are you tired little stärnli?" your mummy would ask, her nails scratching your skin lightly as you pressed further into her chest. "no mummy." you mumbled in a sleepy voice, your breathing almost even as you tried to stay awake.

your exhaustion was obvious as you fought the fight to stay awake but surrendered at the feeling of your mummy's hand carding through your hair. "bedtime lovie?" leah chuckled, watching as you basically crashed out of pure exhaustion on her girlfriends lap.

"think so." lia grinned, smiling in admiration of the love she so clearly saw swelling in leah's eyes for you. lia gently lifted you up of the couch, her arms cradling you softly as her girlfriend moved to turn off the film as they made their way to your bedroom to tuck you soundly into bed.

now in your bedroom, lia gently lifted the covers and lowered you into bed, tucking the warm, fluffy blanket up to your chin as you breathed softly. "out like a light." lia giggled, bending down to place a light kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering as she whispered to you quietly.

"oh, her stärnli." lia cursed, knowing she had forgotten your teddy in the living room and she rushed to retrieve it as she knew you couldn't sleep without it by your side.

as she left the room for a moment, you stirred soundly in your sleep, the faint air brushing over your face as your mummy left in a hurry to find your stärnli. blinking sleepily, you found yourself tucked comfortably into bed, when only moments before you remember watching the movie in the living room.

the light of the stick on stars on your ceiling gently glowed down on your face, lia had bought them when you started to show an interest in stars, asking her questions one night when you were out late on the balcon just looking at the sky.

"leah?" you called out, your sleepy voice barely above a whisper, tinged with how tired you were. your eyes scanned the room, seeking out the familiar figure of your mummy's girlfriend.

to your surprise, leah was still there, sitting at the edge of your bed, her body illuminated by the soft light coming from your night light plugged into the wall. she turned to you with a warm smile, her hand reaching out to rest on your blanket.

"hey little star," leah said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "are you having trouble going to sleep?"you nodded, a small yawn escaping your lips as you shifted in bed, your gaze fixated on the blondes face.

you waited in silence for a moment, your eyes blinking tiredly as leah let you speak to her first. she didn't want to overstep because she knew if you needed something you would ask for help from her.

"leah, do you love my mummy?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity. the question had been lingering in your mind for some time now and with how safe leah made you feel, you felt okay to tell her.

leah bent down to kiss the spot where your mummy had kissed a few minutes ago as her hand grazing down the side of your face. "yes, little star," leah replied, her voice soft as she matched her smile down to yours. "i love your mummy very, very much."

you nodded in a somewhat approval, a sense of contentment washing over you as leah's words sank in. she really did love your mummy and you knew that now. with a satisfied sigh, you settled back into your sleep, your eyes just drooping closed as you almost fell back asleep once again.

leah looked down at you, her gaze softening as she watched you drift off to sleep, a fond smile playing on her lips. she brushed a gentle hand over your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear.

and as your mummy returned to your room, you opened your eyes once more, lifting your stärnli teddy out of your mummy's hand and tucking it underneath your chin. you clasped your hand with your own and lifted it up next to your teddy. sinking into the sheets you allowed sleep to overcome you, your breath evening out.

"goodnight mummy and lee." "goodnight little stärnli." "goodnight little star."

#woso x reader #lia walti x reader #lia walti #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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callmewisteria · 7 months ago

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Norm is absolutely one of my favourite characters in the Fallout universe. The fact he loves his family and wants what's best for them being what drives him to look for the truth of what has happened to them and why is fantastic. The ultimate difference between him and Chet, too, is a great show of his character. It began with him choosing to help his sister find their father and ends with him coming to the same realisation as she has – their father was not the man he said he was and much of their life has been a lie. Watching him decide to take the hunt for the truth into his own hands, even when it could be the end of him, is incredibly compelling.

What makes Norm so enjoyable to watch, too, is just how human he is. All of the characters in the show are that way, which is part of what makes it great (yes, even the ghouls as they were at one time human). The distress he feels at seeing what happened to Vault 32 being swept under the rug, and the anger he feels towards Betty and the others for doing it seemingly out of a desire for control and power more than anything else is tangible. The fact it drives him to take the risk of sneaking into Vault 31 shows his bold and couregous side, and also that it's driven by not only his own curiosities but his desire for the truth. It’s a great parallel trait he shares with Lucy and, as she comes to find out, their mother. The anger he feels towards his father and also the desperation he feels to survive are a great contrast of his truth seeking and his baser humanity.

All things considered, Norm's competing feelings of a desire for truth, a desire for safety, curiosity, and a love for his family are what make him a great character. The fact he shares those traits with Lucy but expresses them in different ways creates a strong parallel narrative for their characters, and also does a great job showing the two sides of courage. The fact neither he or Lucy are impervious or shy away from moments of weakness and subsiming emotion latch onto the naivety from their upbringing and also their humanity. With them both now having to reckon with the truth about their father, a reunion between them will I'm sure be great and also remind them that not all of their family members are bad. Reckoning with the truth about their mother and Lucy's love for her being what compelled her to end her suffering before breaking down at the gravity of it is another layer of complexity to their family dynamics that both of them will need time to sit with. The contrasting feelings of how they knew their father versus what they've come to learn about him serve well to separate them from others like Chet; where he, their cousin, chooses to remain wilfully ignorant, they chose to put aside their fears and look for a truth they knew was out there.

Chet is a coward because he chooses to ignore the truth he has seen with his own eyes.

Lucy is brave because she is willing to go to any and all lengths to find her father and is then willing to end the suffering her mother is under because of him; she is openly emotional and driven by that and the love she feels for her family and is horrified and shattered by her father being a different man than the one she had always known.

Norm is brave because he is willing to do anything for his sister and father and, when faced with the choice to stay in blissful ignorance, because he chooses to seek out the truth even when it could hurt him; he, too, doesn't shy away from the pain the truth about his father causes him and, like Lucy, has to learn to live with the competing memories of their father and the reality of who and what he is.

Hank is a coward because, while he goes to the extremes to attempt to preserve himself and his family, he refuses to accept the fact his actions have consequences for the way his children (and, previously, their mother) had seen him and instead tries to force things to go back to the way they were before his children could learn of his ability to be selfish.

And Rose was brave because she loved her children so much that she would and did do everything for them, even when she had to put her love for their father aside and risk herself so that she and her children could have a chance to live in truth rather than lies. Her children share that with her, even though they didn't know it, just as much as they share her love, empathy, and desire for the truth even when living in wilful ignorance could have been easier.

Tl;dr – the entire MacLean family being driven by love for each other but expressing it in different ways that ultimately drive them apart is not only great at showcasing the different sides of courage and cowardice but showing the way Lucy and Norm are so similar and are driven by their love for their family just as much as their desire for the truth and that neither Lucy or Norm shy away from their emotional and impulsive reactions to it presents them as not only fully human but two sides of the same coin; they are both couregous even though they take two different paths to the truth.

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lilislegacy · 8 months ago

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Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately

All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”

Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”

Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!

I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.

Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?

Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.

I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.

Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.

We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.

Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy

#the only thing we can predict is that he’ll be unpredictable #none of us know what he wouldn’t do #analysis #pjo analysis #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #sally jackson #piper mclean #leo valdez

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lila-lou · 1 month ago

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✨Taking her in - Pt. 6✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language, angst

Word Count: 7003

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

Your heart clenched at the sudden rejection, the abrupt shift in Dean’s demeanor cutting through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both. The intensity of the kiss, the way your body had responded to his, it had all felt so right in the moment—so overwhelming and consuming. But now, with Dean pulling back, it was as if the rug had been yanked out from under you, leaving you feeling exposed and uncertain.

Even though you felt like jelly, your head light and your heart racing, you tried to mask the hurt. You swallowed hard, forcing down the emotions that threatened to spill over. “And?”, you asked quietly, doing your best to sound nonchalant, as if you weren’t waiting on tenterhooks for his feedback, as if you weren’t terrified of what he might say next.

Dean took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Your nonchalant tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat, shifting slightly on the bed to put a bit more distance between you, needing space to clear his head and regain control of the situation.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, knowing that what he said next could either ease your worries or make things even more complicated. “You’re… you’re good, (Y/N)”, he finally said, his voice softer, trying to sound reassuring. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they didn’t fully convey the complexity of what he was feeling. Yes, he had felt your inexperience, but that was far from what mattered to him in that moment. What mattered was the connection you had shared, the emotions that had been laid bare in that kiss.

But he couldn’t say that—not without risking everything.

As he spoke, Dean couldn’t help but shift slightly, trying to discreetly adjust his jeans. The kiss had left him more affected than he wanted to admit, and he could feel the uncomfortable tightness that had developed. He did his best to hide it from you, knowing that the last thing you needed was to see just how much that kiss had impacted him physically.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to dispel the tension in the air. “Look, it’s… it’s normal to feel a little unsure”, he said, his tone awkward but earnest. “But trust me, you’re doing just fine. You don’t have anything to worry about”.

Dean gave you a small, tight smile, hoping to put you at ease, but the truth was, he was struggling just as much as you were. The emotions stirred by that kiss were still swirling inside him, making it hard to think straight, to keep up the facade of being the calm, collected older brother figure you’d always seen him as.

But even as he tried to reassure you, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had crossed a line—one that couldn’t be uncrossed. And as much as he wanted to make things right, to go back to the way things were before, he knew deep down that something had changed between you, and there was no going back.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts, the reality of the situation hitting him hard. He couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far. You were sitting there, skin flushed, breath still a little uneven, and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes—the same uncertainty he felt gnawing at his gut.

Running a hand through his hair and then over his beard, he tried to figure out how to handle this without making things worse. The kiss had been a mistake, he knew that now more than ever, but the last thing he wanted was to make you feel bad about it. He had always prided himself on being the one who looked out for you, the one who made sure you were safe and protected. And now, he felt like he had let you down in the worst way.

Raising a finger, he pointed at you, his voice firm but not unkind. “No word to anyone, alright?”, he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “This… this stays between us”.

You nodded, your cheeks still flushed, and your eyes wide with a mix of lingering desire and confusion. You had never seen Dean like this before—so vulnerable, so conflicted.

Dean muttered something under his breath, a combination of frustration and desperation, as he pushed himself up from the bed. The tension in the room was unbearable, and he knew he needed to get out of there, to put some distance between himself and the situation before he did something he couldn’t take back.

“I need a drink”, he muttered, his voice rough, more to himself than to you. He turned away, making his way toward the door, but not before discreetly adjusting his jeans to relieve the discomfort caused by his still-present arousal. His back was to you as he did so, sparing you the sight, but it was another painful reminder of how close he had come to completely losing control.

You watched him go, your emotions a tangled mess of confusion, desire, and shame. You could still feel the warmth of his lips against yours, the way his hands had held you so carefully, so reverently.

As Dean disappeared from sight, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the quiet room. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on you, but there was something else too—something that made your heart race and your skin tingle with the remnants of what you had just experienced.

Your fingers slowly reached up to touch your lips, the very same lips that had just been kissed for the first time. It was surreal, almost too much to process all at once. Your first kiss—and it had been with Dean. It had been everything you had imagined and more, filled with a warmth and intensity that you hadn’t expected. The way his lips had moved against yours, the way he had held you, it had felt so right in the moment, so undeniably good.

Your skin still tingled with the memory of his touch, a soft, lingering sensation that refused to fade. Every nerve in your body felt alive, buzzing with an energy that made it hard to sit still. You could feel the heat in your cheeks, the rush of emotions that made your thoughts whirl in chaotic circles. There was confusion, yes, and a hint of shame at how much you had enjoyed it, but there was also something else—a thrill that ran through you at the thought that it had been Dean, of all people, who had given you that moment.

You couldn’t deny the feelings that were swirling inside you, feelings that you had tried to suppress for so long but had come rushing to the surface the moment his lips had touched yours. There was a part of you that knew this could complicate everything, that things might never be the same between you and Dean, but another part of you couldn’t help but hold on to the way it had felt, the way he had made you feel.

Sitting there, alone in the room, you couldn’t stop the small, secret smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

This kiss, this moment—it was something you would hold on to, no matter what happened next.

After a while, you finally managed to steady your breathing and gather your thoughts. You knew you couldn’t stay in that room forever, lost in your own head.

With a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you got up and made your way to the library, where you knew Dean had gone to nurse his drink. As you approached, you saw him standing by one of the tall bookshelves, a full glass of whiskey in his hand. His posture was tense, and the lines of his face were drawn tight, as if he was still wrestling with the emotions of what had just transpired.

When he saw you walking toward him, he brushed his hand through his hair, his eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something deeper that he couldn’t quite hide. You could tell he was still grappling with what had happened, just as you were, and you wanted to say something to ease the tension, to play it all down.

But before you could get a word out, Dean held up one hand, stopping you in your tracks. He took another sip of his whiskey, as if he needed the liquid courage to face you, and then set the glass down on the table with a heavy thud. The silence between you was thick, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

“Don’t”, he said, his voice low and rough, as if the words were costing him more than he cared to admit. “Don’t say anything. Not right now”.

The plea in his tone was unmistakable.

Dean clenched his jaw, his eyes avoiding yours as he leaned heavily against the table. The weight of what had happened between you was clearly bearing down on him, and he was doing everything he could to keep his emotions in check. The whiskey wasn’t enough to dull the edge of it, and he knew that if he let this conversation continue, it might spiral out of control in a way neither of you were ready to handle.

“I told you”, he mumbled, his voice thick with tension, “this stays in my room. We’re not gonna talk about it. Not now, not ever”.

His words were harsh, but there was a vulnerability beneath them that you could sense—a desperate need to keep things from unraveling any further. He was trying to protect both of you, to keep the fragile balance you’d had from completely shattering, even if it meant pushing you away.

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You wanted to tell him that you understood, that you were okay with pretending it never happened if that’s what he needed, but the words were difficult to form. Finally, you managed to find your voice, though it came out softer and more tentative than you’d intended.

“I just wanted to say… I’m cool with it”, you murmured, your eyes dropping to the floor. “It doesn’t change anything, I promise”.

Dean looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust that you could both move past this without it leaving a permanent mark on your relationship. But deep down, he knew that things had already changed, whether either of you wanted to admit it or not.

He nodded stiffly, acknowledging your words without fully believing them. “Good”, he said, his tone flat. “Then let’s leave it at that”.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Neither of you seemed to know what to say or how to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened up between you. The weight of what had happened, and more importantly, what had almost happened, hung over you both like a dark cloud.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally found the courage to break the silence. Your voice was hesitant, unsure if you were stepping into another minefield. “Are you… still going to drive me to my date tomorrow?”.

Dean’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something in them—something like regret or maybe even disappointment. But he quickly masked it, taking another sip of his whiskey as he considered your question.

“Yeah”, he replied after a moment, his tone more neutral now, but still with that edge of tension. “Yeah, I’ll drive you”.

The confirmation should have been reassuring, but instead, it left you feeling more unsettled. The way he said it, the way he avoided looking directly at you, made it clear that things were different, whether either of you wanted to admit it or not.

You nodded, offering him a small, tentative smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Dean”.

He just nodded, his attention already drifting back to his glass. The conversation was over, and it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to continue it. You hesitated for a moment longer, wanting to say something—anything—that might help, but nothing came to mind.

Instead, you turned and walked out of the library, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on your shoulders.

A week had passed since that night, and while things between you and Dean had settled somewhat, the undercurrent of tension remained. It wasn’t as sharp or unbearable as it had been immediately after the kiss, but it was still there, lingering like a ghost that neither of you could quite exorcise.

Your last date with Jake had gone well enough, but the opportunity to kiss him hadn’t come up, which left you feeling strangely relieved. Maybe it was the timing, or maybe it was the unresolved tension with Dean, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to make that move with Jake. Now, the prospect of another date loomed, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Dean, to the kiss that had left you both reeling.

Today, you and Dean were on a long drive to Helena, Montana, where you were meeting up with Sam, Jody, and her girls. After the intensity of the last, Jody had suggested a little getaway—just like family. It was meant to be a break, a chance to relax and unwind, but for Dean, the drive was proving to be anything but relaxing.

You sat next to him in the passenger seat, your legs bare in your little denim shorts. The weather was warm, and you’d dressed comfortably for the long drive, but Dean was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the road. Every time he glanced over at you, his eyes were drawn to the way your shorts rode up just slightly on your thighs, the smooth skin exposed to the sun streaming through the windows. It was torture, pure and simple.

The radio was playing softly, Metallica’s familiar riffs filling the car, and you were humming along to the music, completely oblivious to the turmoil Dean was trying so hard to keep under control. The breeze from the open window played with your hair, and every now and then, you’d glance out the window, your lips moving along with the lyrics.

Dean gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to keep his eyes on the road. The fifteen-hour drive had been a test of his self-control from the start, and as the hours wore on, it was only getting harder. He had hoped that the tension between you would fade with time, that he’d be able to push it all down and get back to normal. But being this close to you, trapped in the confined space of the Impala for hours on end, was doing the exact opposite.

He cleared his throat, glancing over at you as casually as he could manage. “You doing okay over there?”, he asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

You looked over at him, smiling slightly as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Just enjoying the music”. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the memory of the kiss flashed between you like a spark, before you both quickly looked away.

As the conversation dipped back into silence, you suddenly felt the familiar rumble of hunger in your stomach. You glanced over at Dean, who was still staring straight ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you were determined to break it, even if just a little.

“You hungry?”, you asked, already leaning over the seat to reach into the back for the bag of snacks you had packed earlier. The movement caused your body to shift, and before you realized it, your butt was nearly at eye level with Dean.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze involuntarily drifted to the curve of your body, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off your skin. The shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination, and the way they hugged your hips and thighs was driving him to the edge. He clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes back on the road, but the image was seared into his mind.

You finally found the bag and straightened up, oblivious to the internal struggle Dean was fighting beside you. You opened the bag and started rummaging through it, listing off the snacks you’d brought. “I’ve got chips, some granola bars, and oh, these little pretzel bites you like”, you said, offering the bag to Dean.

He glanced over briefly, his face carefully neutral, though the effort it took was nearly Herculean. “Yeah, thanks”, he muttered, taking a pretzel bite and popping it into his mouth, more to distract himself than out of actual hunger.

As you settled back into your seat, the tension between you didn’t completely dissipate, but the simple act of sharing a snack helped ease it slightly.

“We’re gonna have to stop somewhere for the night”, Dean muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice gruff. “There’s a decent motel in Wyoming, about a couple of hours away. We can crash there, get some rest, and drive the rest of the way tomorrow”.

You nodded, grateful for the break in the silence and the subtle shift back to something normal, something that didn’t involve the unspoken tension between you. “Sounds good”, you replied, offering him a small smile. “I could use a break from sitting in this seat”.

Dean grunted in agreement, glancing over at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Yeah, me too”, he said. “We’ll find a place, grab some dinner, and call it a night”.

The plan was solid, practical, and gave him something to focus on other than the way his mind kept drifting back to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having. The miles ticked by, and Dean did his best to keep the conversation light, sticking to safe topics like music, old hunts, and the upcoming plans with Sam, Jody, and the girls.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, you both fell into a more comfortable silence, the earlier tension easing slightly. But even as you talked and joked, there was still that undercurrent, that lingering awareness of each other that neither of you could completely shake.

When the lights of a small town came into view, Dean let out a small sigh of relief. “There’s the exit”, he said, signaling as he guided the Impala off the highway. “Shouldn’t be too much longer”.

You watched the town’s lights grow closer, a sense of anticipation building. Despite the awkwardness earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a strange excitement about spending the night in a motel with Dean. It was silly, you knew that, but the thought of it made your heart race just a little faster.

As you pulled into the parking lot of the motel, Dean parked the Impala and cut the engine. The sudden silence after the long hours of driving was almost deafening, and you both sat there for a moment, neither of you moving to get out of the car.

Dean finally cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I’ll get us checked in”, he said, his voice gruff as he grabbed his wallet from the dashboard. “You want anything from the diner across the street?”.

You nodded, grateful for the offer. “Yeah, whatever you’re getting is fine with me”.

Dean gave you a curt nod before stepping out of the impala.

As you stepped out of the Impala and stretched a few minutes later, the cool evening air felt refreshing after the long drive. Dean handed you the room key and the Impala’s keys, giving you a small nod before heading off to the diner across the street. His expression was guarded, still carrying that underlying tension, but he didn’t say anything more before he walked away.

You watched him go for a moment, then turned toward the motel room, bags in hand. The motel itself was nothing special. But tonight, it felt different, charged with a strange mixture of anticipation and unease.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside the room and immediately noticed the large bed in the center. Just one bed, not two. You froze for a moment, taking in the sight.

The bedspread was a dull, faded floral pattern, and the room had the usual motel decor—dated furniture, a small TV mounted on the wall, and a single lamp casting a dim, warm glow over the space. The air smelled faintly of cleaning products and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You set down the bags at the foot of the bed, your mind racing. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and the thought of sharing a bed with Dean after everything that had happened was both thrilling and terrifying. You knew you had to play it cool, to pretend like this was no big deal, but your heart was pounding in your chest at the thought of how the night might unfold.

A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open, and Dean stepped inside, a takeout bag from the diner in hand. His eyes immediately went to the bed, and you could see the moment he realized what you had already noticed.

He stopped in his tracks, the tension in the room thickening as he took in the single bed. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence almost deafening.

Dean let out a slow breath, trying to process the situation. He could feel the tension in the air thickening, the reality of the single bed sinking in. After a moment, he set the takeout bag down on the small table, his movements more deliberate than usual as he tried to think of how to handle this without making things even more awkward than they already were.

“Apparently, this was the only room they had left", Dean said, his voice tinged with frustration. “Figures, right?”.

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral even though your heart was racing. “Yeah, just our luck”. You offered him a small, forced smile, hoping to ease the tension between you. “But it’s just one night, like you said. We’ll manage”.

Dean nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He glanced at the bed again, then back at you, clearly weighing his options. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the same mix of emotions you were feeling—awkwardness, uncertainty, and something deeper that neither of you were ready to acknowledge.

“Alright”, he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just get through this, get some rest, and hit the road first thing in the morning”.

You both sat down at the table, trying to focus on the food and steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room. You talked about the drive, the music, anything that wasn’t related to the bed or the lingering tension between you. But even as you spoke, your thoughts kept drifting back to the situation at hand.

Once the meal was finished, the atmosphere between you felt a little more relaxed, but the reality of the single bed still loomed over you. Dean cleared the trash from the table, his movements slightly more rigid than usual, as if he was trying to keep himself busy to avoid thinking too much about what came next.

“Do you want the first shower?”, Dean asked, his voice casual, though you could hear the underlying strain.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, thanks”. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom, grateful for the excuse to put a little distance between you and Dean, if only for a few minutes.

As the warm water cascaded over you, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You knew you’d have to face Dean again soon, and the prospect of sharing that bed with him was becoming more and more daunting. But you also knew that you couldn’t let this situation get the better of you. Dean was right—it was just one night, and you could handle it.

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, you felt a little more composed. Dean gave you a brief nod as he passed by you to take his turn in the shower, and you took the opportunity to change into something comfortable for bed.

Eventually Dean emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. His footsteps were almost hesitant as he walked back into the room, his gaze falling on you already tucked in and cuddled up under the covers, your phone in hand. The sight of you there, looking so comfortable and yet so out of place in this motel room, made something twist in his chest.

He lingered by the door for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered his options. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, especially after everything that had happened between you. The idea of sharing a bed still felt like a step too far, even if it was just for one night. But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Uh…”, Dean cleared his throat, his voice rough as he tried to find the right words. “You sure you’re okay with this? I can still sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable”.

You looked up from your phone, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing there, clearly torn between his instincts to protect you and the unspoken feelings that had been simmering between you both for weeks. His offer was sincere, and you could see the concern in his eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t want him to sleep on the floor. It wasn’t just about the discomfort—it was about the strange comfort you found in his presence, even amidst the awkwardness.

“No, it’s fine”, you replied softly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Really, Dean, it’s just one night”.

Dean hesitated for a moment longer, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was that same trust you’d always had in him, and it was enough to push him forward. With a nod, he made his way to the other side of the bed, carefully pulling back the covers before sliding in beside you.

The bed felt impossibly small now that you were both in it, the space between you charged with a tension that was almost palpable. Dean lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to force himself to relax. He could feel the warmth of your body beside him, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing, and it was both comforting and maddening at the same time.

After a few moments of silence, Dean shifted slightly, turning his head to look at you. “If this gets too weird, just say the word, and I’ll move”, he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, offering him a small smile. “I will”, you promised, though deep down, you knew you wouldn’t. The thought of him moving away, of putting more distance between you, felt like the last thing you wanted.

The silence stretched on between you, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable silence from earlier. It was quieter, more reflective, as if you were both trying to come to terms with the fact that, despite everything, you were here, together, sharing this space.

Dean lay still, trying to will himself into sleep, but the discomfort in his back was making it difficult. He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but no matter how he moved, the stiffness persisted.

“My back hurts”, Dean grumbled after a while, his voice low and rough. The words broke the silence, but there was a trace of humor in his tone, an attempt to ease the lingering tension between you both.

You chuckled softly, the sound light in the quiet room. The tension eased just a little, and you placed your phone on the nightstand, turning to face him. Dean looked tired, the faint lines on his face more pronounced in the soft light of the bedside lamp. It was a reminder that he wasn’t in his twenties anymore, that the years had taken their toll in more ways than one.

“You sound like an old man”, you teased gently, though your smile was warm and affectionate.

Dean let out a huff of amusement, turning his head to look at you. “Yeah, well, I guess I am getting there”, he replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the playful banter giving way to something more serious, more real. The lines on his face, the way his eyes seemed to carry a weight that had nothing to do with the physical, made you realize just how much Dean had been through, how much he still carried with him.

As you shifted to get a better look at Dean, the blanket slipped down your body, revealing more of your top. The material was thin, and without a bra underneath, the outline of your nipples became faintly visible through the fabric. You were too caught up in the moment, in the concern you felt for Dean, to notice right away.

Dean, however, noticed immediately. His gaze flickered down for just a second before he forced himself to look away, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his thoughts in check. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you in casual clothing before, but this was different. Here you were, lying beside him in bed, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the quiet darkness of the room, and now this added layer of temptation was something he hadn’t been prepared for.

He could feel his heart rate picking up, a surge of heat flooding through him that he tried desperately to push down. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid—getting too close, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn’t go. But you were making it so damn difficult, not on purpose, he knew, but just by being yourself, by being here with him.

You caught the slight shift in his expression, the way his eyes had momentarily darkened before he looked away. It made you suddenly aware of the blanket’s position, of the way your top clung to your body. Your cheeks flushed, heat rushing to your face as you quickly pulled the blanket back up, covering yourself again.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, embarrassed, trying to laugh it off. “I didn’t mean to—”.

Dean cut you off, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s okay”, he said, though his voice was a little rougher than usual. “Nothing to apologize for”.

Your cheeks were bright red as you quickly turned away from Dean, pulling the blanket up higher in an attempt to hide not just your body, but the shame and confusion that were suddenly overwhelming you.

Dean, meanwhile, was locked in an internal battle, doing everything he could to push down the surge of arousal that had hit him the moment he caught sight of you. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, but the physical reaction was out of his control, and he hated himself for it. He shifted slightly, trying to adjust discreetly, but every movement seemed to make the situation worse.

The room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, which had quickened slightly as you tried to calm your racing heart.

Dean could see how tense you were, and it tore at him. He knew he needed to defuse the situation somehow, to make you feel less vulnerable, and maybe even coax a smile from you. So, he gently laid a hand on your bare shoulder, his touch light and comforting, as if he could somehow reassure you through that small connection.

“Hey”, he repeated softly, trying to bring a little warmth into his tone. “It’s not a big deal, really. I mean, it’s not like I saw much, right?”.

He gave a small, awkward chuckle, hoping the joke would lighten the mood. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. The look on your face when you finally turned to him—your cheeks still flushed and eyes wide with embarrassment—made it clear that you had taken his comment the wrong way.

You thought he was referring to the size of your breasts, and the humiliation that washed over you was almost unbearable. Your face grew even redder, and you quickly turned away again, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to hide not just your body but the sting of his unintended remark.

Dean’s heart dropped when he realized what had happened. “Oh… no,Y/N… I didn’t mean it like that!”, he said quickly, his voice laced with genuine panic. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t talking about… I swear. I just meant… you’re not… naked or anything”.

He ran a hand through his hair, utterly flustered and kicking himself for making the situation even worse. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel self-conscious, and now he had done exactly that.

“Look, I’m an idiot”, he added, his voice softer now, filled with regret. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I was just trying to… I don’t know, make things less awkward”.

You heard the sincerity in his voice, and though you were still embarrassed, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him too. He had only been trying to help, and you could see how much he regretted his choice of words.

For a while, the room was filled with an uneasy silence. You stared down at the blanket, still feeling the heat of embarrassment lingering in your cheeks, while Dean remained beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The awkwardness of the situation hung in the air, but Dean’s touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable.

Finally, you found the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay”, you mumbled, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You weren’t entirely sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself, but you could feel the sincerity in your words.

The warmth of his hand on your shoulder was almost too much. Your skin seemed to burn where he touched you.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved to hear you say that it was okay. “I’m really sorry”, he repeated softly, his voice full of genuine remorse. He squeezed your shoulder lightly before letting his hand drop away, as if he was giving you space to recover, though he already missed the contact.

Dean shifted slightly beside you, the tension in the air easing but not entirely dissipating. He was still feeling the weight of the moment, the awkwardness and the guilt of making you feel uncomfortable. His fingers twitched as he pulled his hand away, resisting the urge to keep touching you, to reassure you more. But he knew that pushing any further tonight wouldn’t help either of you.

“Just get some sleep”, he whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. He turned away from you, his back now facing yours as he tried to create a little more distance between you. The bed felt both too big and too small at the same time—too big because of the emotional distance he felt growing, too small because he could still feel the warmth of your body so close to his.

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, your own emotions still swirling inside you. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wished you could explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to settle into the bed. But sleep felt a long way off.

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing and Dean’s, both of you lying there, back to back, lost in your own thoughts. Despite the lingering tension, there was a strange sense of comfort in the silence. Even with everything that had happened, even with the complications and the confusion, you were still here together, still connected in a way that neither of you could quite put into words.

Eventually, as the silence stretched on, the tension in your body began to ease. The initial embarrassment and awkwardness had slowly given way to a calmer, more introspective mood. You could still feel the warmth of Dean’s presence beside you, and despite the emotional distance that had crept between you, there was something undeniably comforting about just being near him.

You turned onto your side, facing Dean’s back. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each breath, and the sight of him, so close and yet so seemingly far away, stirred something deep within you. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for—maybe just some sense of reassurance, a connection that went beyond the words and the tension that had built up between you.

The room was dark, save for the faint light filtering in from the parking lot outside, casting a soft glow across Dean’s silhouette. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you found yourself just watching him, your thoughts swirling in the quiet of the night.

As the minutes ticked by in the quiet darkness, you found yourself gradually slipping toward sleep, your thoughts becoming softer, more distant, as the weight of the day finally began to catch up with you. The warmth of Dean's body next to yours, even with the small space still between you, was oddly comforting. You could feel the tension easing out of you, replaced by a kind of peacefulness that you hadn't expected to find after everything that had happened.

Just as you were teetering on the edge of sleep, you felt movement beside you. Dean shifted, and before you could fully process it, he turned over, his body now facing yours. The bed was small, and with this new position, the space between you disappeared almost entirely. Your faces were just inches apart, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

For a moment, you were both still, your eyes locked in the dim light, the reality of your closeness settling over you like a blanket. It should have felt awkward, the sudden intimacy of the moment, but somehow, it didn't. Instead, it felt… natural. Like this was exactly where you were supposed to be, even if neither of you had planned for it.

Dean's eyes searched yours, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you rarely saw. Whatever tension had been lingering between you throughout the day seemed to have melted away, leaving only this quiet moment, shared between the two of you. The unspoken understanding that had passed between you earlier still lingered, a silent agreement that words weren't needed, that maybe this—whatever "this" was—was enough.

You could see the faint lines of exhaustion on his face, the way his eyes drooped slightly, as if sleep was pulling at him just as it was at you. But even in his tiredness, there was something reassuring in his gaze.

Neither of you moved, neither spoke. It was as if you both understood that this moment was fragile, something that could be shattered by even the smallest sound or gesture. So instead, you simply lay there, your breathing syncing up as the room around you grew quieter, the world outside fading away.

Dean’s hand twitched slightly, as if he was considering reaching out to you, but he stopped himself, letting it rest against the bed instead. The urge to close that last bit of distance between you, to feel the warmth of his hand in yours, was strong, but you held back, not wanting to break the delicate balance you had found.

Minutes passed, and slowly, the heaviness of sleep began to settle over both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, the last thing you saw before sleep claimed you completely being Dean’s face, his expression relaxed and peaceful, so close to yours. The tension of the past days, the awkwardness, the unresolved feelings—all of it seemed to dissolve in the quiet comfort of the moment.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 7

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall

#jensen ackles #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #taking her in

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periwinkla · 8 months ago

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I think what I love the most about AA is that characters have a duality to them that I don't see often in media. They have actual flaws and do actual bad things, and it's not glossed over. Phoenix is a fundamentally good person, he helps people at the drop of a hat, risks his life for them. Has a penchant for taking strays under his wing. He believes in people... but also not really. He carries a literal lie detector with him at all times, and only employs people who can also peer into other people's hearts. So is he really that trusting? Sure he trusts his clients are innocent, but he doesn't trust they will tell him the truth at all (there's always something to lie about). He believes himself naive, and that's why he works extra hard not to be. Some people think he changed with his disbarment but I feel like when he actually changed was after Dahlia. He became less and less trusting as time went on. And Phoenix actually does forge evidence and risks his subordinate's career, and he says pretty nasty things sometimes (that one time to Edgeworth had got to hurt, badly, especially if you consider that the note could have been genuine at first, which we don't know for sure), has a pretty tactless and somewhat hurtful sense of humor, brings his daughter to cheat at poker, and doesn't tell said daughter she actually has some family left alive. He's secretive, elusive and cryptic, and masks it under a false pretence of goofiness. Miles is, by contrast, very easy to read. He may appear emotionally stunted but is one of the more emphathetic characters. He realizes when he's wrong and immediately needs to correct those wrongs. He grows uneasy and uncertain and eventually recognizes when he's mistaken. By the end of it he begins to help people naturally, without even thinking about it as much as he would have in the past. He helps so many people, he has basically got Phoenix's savior complex 2.0 but the healthy kind where he doesn't jump off a bridge. But... he was also actually cruel, and did send innocent people to their graves (was he really so naive to believe whichever defendant came his way was guilty?). He feigned his death disregarding other people's feelings, and while you could say he had no obligation towards Phoenix (apart from basic decency and respect towards someone who had turned his life around to save him), he still abandoned Franziska, who was still just a kid and had just found out about what her father did. She probably thought, at some point, that the apple didn't fall that far from the tree. That's it's somehow her fault as well. He may be rude and antagonistic, frank to a fault. Isn't afraid of telling stuff to your face. But he also cares about the people he loves so much, to the point he doesn't hesitate to risk his career and break the law multiple times. He may appear a pessimist but he's pretty idealistic at heart, it's quite funny that his favourite show is about an hero of justice, isn't it? Godot is... well, we don't know much about it from before his coma, but he definitely shared Mia's sentiments for helping people in their hour of need. But when he wakes from a 6-year coma he's so broken that he just pins the blame on the most absurd person to blame it on, settles on a complicated plan, and also prosecutes on that particular murder he should just confess upon. Iris was sweet, innocent, self-sacrificing. She knew absolutely nothing about the world apart from what Bikini or her sister told her. She was naive and falsely thought she could fix everything, that her sister was salvageable, that she could save Phoenix. But she still ended up lying to the person she loved and abetting a murder. That's why I love these characters so much. They're interesting and their stories make sense. People don't remain unchanged from what happens to them. People are multi-faceted and complex. You can't sum them up in a bunch of characteristics and aspect them to act on every single one of them, always, consistently. Sometimes people break. They make mistakes they regret, ...and some they don't.

#ace attorney

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d-targaryenshoe · 8 months ago

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Eternal Hope - Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 2053

Summary: When one's best friend tells you a rather complex secret about your husband, doubts start to take over your mind, am I right?

You and Anthony Bridgerton were the perfection of an ideal couple, your marriage a testament to the power of love and commitment.

You were a vision of innocence and purity, your heart as untainted as the snow that covered the ground on your wedding day.

He was the embodiment of devotion, his every action a reflection of his deep affection for you. To the outside world, you were the picture-perfect duo, your lives a fairytale come true.

But your best friend, Philipa Featherington, knew better. Her family had seen Anthony Bridgerton in his younger days before he had met you and settled down.

Back then, he had been known as quite the rake, a man who was more interested in the pleasures of the flesh than in finding true love.

Despite his charming exterior, there was something dark and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

It was this knowledge that made Philipa feel a mixture of awe, envy, and a tiny thread of worry for you, her friend.

One afternoon, as the two of you sat in the parlor, sipping tea and enjoying the warmth of the sun, Philipa decided to share the past with you.

"You know, y/n," she began, her voice low and conspiratorial, "I sometimes wonder how you ever managed to tame that wild beast of a man."

Philipa nodded towards the golden ring on your finger. "Before you came along, Anthony was quite the scoundrel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Philipa, I cannot believe that you would say such a thing about my husband!" you exclaimed. "Anthony is the most loving, attentive man I could ever hope for!"

Philipa smiled sympathetically, knowing that you meant every word you said. But she also knew that there was more to the story than you realized.

"Yes, yes," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Of course, he is different now. But you must remember that everyone here has known him for years, and some saw firsthand the things he used to do. He could be quite ruthless, y/n. He never cared about anyone's feelings but his own."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you sure you're not overstating?" you asked hesitantly. "Anthony has always been so kind to me."

Philipa looked you in the eye. "I wish I were," she said simply.

"But the truth is, Anthony Bridgerton was once a very different man. And while I'm glad that he's changed, and that you're so happy together, I can't help but wonder if you know who he is."

Your heart sank at your friend's words. You wanted to believe that Philipa was wrong, that Anthony could never have been anything but the devoted husband you knew now.

But a tiny seed of doubt began to take root in your mind. Perhaps there was more to Anthony's past than you had realized.

"I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love Anthony with all my heart, and he loves me just as much. He's been nothing but faithful and kind since the day we met."

Philipa reached over and took your hand in hers. "I'm not saying that he isn't faithful to you now," she said gently.

"But you must understand that the man you married is not the same man who was running through the streets of London, chasing after any skirt that crossed his path."

You bit your lip, trying to process everything your friend was saying.

You wanted to believe that Anthony was as innocent and pure as you were, but the memories of Philipa's stories kept creeping into your thoughts.

Could it be possible that there was more to Anthony than you knew?

As you sat alone in the carriage, making your way home from your visit to Philipa, your heart felt heavy with doubt.

The wind howled outside, and the horses' hooves clattered against the cobblestone streets, but you could barely hear any of it over the voice in your head.

What if Philipa was right? What if Anthony had been dissatisfied with you in some way?

You tried to convince yourself that it was ridiculous, that Anthony was the most loving husband a woman could ask for.

But the thought lingered, refusing to be shaken off.

Your mind drifted back to the beginning of your courtship, when Anthony had been so attentive, always showering you with compliments and affection.

He had made you feel beautiful and desirable in a way that no one else ever had. But then, as time went on, you began to wonder if perhaps he was growing bored with you.

He had started spending more time at his club, and when he was home, he seemed distracted.

You tried to talk to him about it, but he always brushed your concerns aside, insisting that everything was fine.

You closed your eyes, the tears beginning to well up in their corners. It hurt you to think that Anthony might not find you beautiful anymore, that he might be seeking pleasure elsewhere.

The thought made you feel so insecure, so unworthy of his love. As the carriage pulled up in front of your home, you forced a smile onto your face, trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be all right.

But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right between you.

You climbed out of the carriage and hurried up the steps to your front door, your heart racing with anticipation and fear.

Anthony was supposed to have returned home hours ago, but he hadn't come back yet.

You knocked on the door, your knuckles white from gripping the handle.

When the butler answered, you forced a bright smile, trying to hide the turmoil within her.

"Hello, Thomas," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "Is Lord Bridgerton inside?"

Thomas, ever the attentive servant, noticed something amiss in your expression. "I believe Lord Bridgerton is still at the club, Lady Bridgerton," he said gently. "Shall I send up a tray for him?"

You hesitated for a moment, your brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yes," you managed to say, "that would be lovely. Thank you, Thomas." You turned and made your way upstairs to your bed chamber, your steps heavy with unease.

You couldn't help but wonder what Anthony was doing at the club for so long, and why he hadn't come home yet.

The thought of him with another woman, enjoying himself in ways he never seemed to enjoy with you, made your stomach churn.

You busied yourself with straightening the bedclothes and rearranging the pillows, trying to distract yourself from the growing ache in your heart.

But as the minutes ticked by and Anthony still hadn't returned, your anxiety only grew worse.

You couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that perhaps Philipa had been right all along.

Maybe Anthony's past truly was catching up with you, and your marriage wasn't as strong as you had once believed it to be.

Finally, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you hurried over to the window, peeking out through the curtains.

There he was, striding up the walkway, his shoulders squared and his head held high. He looked every bit the gentleman you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

But as he ascended the stairs and disappeared from your view.

Your stomach was knotted with fear. You waited until you heard the butler announce his arrival before you made your way down the hallway, trying to compose yourself.

When you finally stepped into the entryway, Anthony turned toward you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "There you are, dearest," he said, his voice warm and affectionate. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten off to."

Your heart sank even further. You forced a smile and walked toward him, trying to ignore the voice in your head that kept saying that this wasn't real, that he wasn't truly happy to see you.

As you moved toward each other, you let yourself be enveloped in his embrace, breathing in his familiar cologne, feeling the strength of his arms around you.

For a moment, you let yourself believe that everything was going to be all right.

"I was just waiting in the parlor, my lady," Thomas interjected, clearing his throat. "Shall I bring up the tray for Lord Bridgerton now?"

"Yes, please," Anthony said, stepping away from you. "That would be lovely, Thomas. Thank you."

He turned back to you, reaching out to take your hand. "Come, my dear. Let's go eat in the privacy of our chamber. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Your heart skipped a beat. What could he possibly need to discuss? You forced another smile and allowed him to lead you up the stairs and into your bed chamber, following him like a nervous child as he took a seat at the table.

He poured you each a glass of wine before sitting back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you.

"Y/n," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "I need to talk to you about something."

Your stomach twisted into knots. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "What is it?"

Anthony took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you, y/n. More than anything in this world. You are my wife, my partner, my best friend. But I've been feeling...disconnected from you lately. Like something is missing between us."

He paused, searching your eyes for some sign of understanding. "I want us to be closer. More intimate. I want to feel the way I used to feel when I looked at you, the way I felt when we first met."

Your heart ached as you listened to his words.

A part of you wanted to believe him, to believe that you could find your way back to the love you once shared.

But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just an act if he was only trying to save face.

You took a sip of your wine, trying to steady your nerves. "I...I want that too," you said, your voice trembling. "I want us to be closer, to feel connected again. But...I don't know how."

Anthony studied your face, his expression softening.

"I think we need to be honest with each other," he said. "To share our fears and our desires. To...explore each other." He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.

"I want to make love to you, y/n. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I desire you."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your heart racing. A part of you wanted to believe that he meant it, that he wanted you the way he used to.

But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just a ploy to ease his conscience, to make himself feel better about whatever it was he had been doing.

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for some sign of truth.

"I'm...I'm not sure," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I want to try, Anthony. I want us to try. But I need you to promise me that...that you'll always be honest with me. That you'll never keep anything from me."

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I promise you, my love," he said solemnly.

"I will always be honest with you. And I swear I will never keep anything from you. Not again." His grip on your hand tightened, and you could feel the warmth of his palm through your gloves. "I want this to work between us, y/n. More than anything."

You closed your eyes, trying to decide what to believe. Part of you wanted to believe him, to trust that he could change, that you could find your way back to the love you once shared.

But another part of you was still so insecure, still so hurt by the betrayal. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come.

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rafedarling · 2 months ago

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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: after years together, you and drew have taken a step back to reassess your relationship while co-parenting your two-year-old daughter. It was drew’s suggestion to take time apart—a difficult decision he made in the hopes of gaining clarity. at first, you were fine with it, even convinced it was the right move. but as days turned into months, whispers of drew’s involvement with another woman start to surface, turning your emotional separation into something far more painful. torn between love, fear, and pride, you give him an ultimatum; either he returns home, or this separation becomes permanent. as both of you face hard truths, the love that you share may be the one thing that holds everything together.

warning(s): mentions of co-parenting struggles and relationship separation, emotional conflict and internal turmoil, angst with a hopeful resolution, soft cursing, miscommunication.

au’s: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

You’re sitting on the couch, absently scrolling through your phone, but your mind is elsewhere. Your thoughts keep circling back to the one person you’ve been avoiding thinking too much about—Drew.

It’s was Drew idea that he wanted to separate for “awhile”. You didn’t fight it at first, even if the request had left you reeling. He needed space, time away from the constant strain of co-parenting and the pressures of work, and you told yourself you could handle it. After all, you needed the space, too. The nights of quiet arguments about whose turn it was to change a diaper, the unspoken resentment that built up over Drew’s erratic work schedule, and the loss of who you were as a couple had driven a wedge between you that neither of you seemed to know how to fix. The idea of stepping back, of giving yourselves room to breathe, felt like a reasonable step. Logical, even.

But no amount of logic could prepare you for the growing ache that came with his absence.

At first, the space had been a relief, allowing you to able to reset and focus on yourself. But then the days grew longer, lonelier. Drew still came by to pick up your daughter for the weekend, still texted you updates and occasionally asked about how you were doing. But those exchanges felt hollow, void of the warmth that had once been a constant between you. He was physically present for your daughter, but emotionally, he felt miles away.

And now… the rumors. You hadn’t wanted to believe them when you first heard them. Drew had been spotted with another woman—a few times, your friend casually mentioned. You laughed it off at first, chalking it up to idle gossip, something blown out of proportion by the public eye. After all, Drew was a rising star. People always had something to say. You trusted him—or, at least, you used to.

But the second time it was brought up, you couldn’t shake it. The image of Drew with someone else—a faceless, nameless person—wormed its way into your brain, clawing at your trust, your hope. He had asked for space, and you gave it to him, but you never imagined this space would mean he could be with someone else.

The sound of your daughter’s giggles pulls you out of your thoughts. She’s looking up at you, her bright eyes—Drew’s eyes—sparkling with joy as she holds up one of her blocks.

“Look, Mama! Big tower!” she exclaims, her tiny hands clapping together in excitement.

You force a smile, the knot in your stomach tightening. You don’t want her to see your sadness, don’t want her to feel the weight of the tension between you and Drew. She’s too young to understand, too innocent to be burdened with the complexities of adult problems.

“Wow, that’s amazing, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of her curly head. But even as you speak, your thoughts are elsewhere—back to Drew, back to the uncertainty that has been eating at you.

You can’t take it anymore. You grab your phone off the couch and head into the kitchen, needing some distance from your daughter so she doesn’t pick up on your growing frustration.

With shaking hands, you scroll through your contacts, finding Drew’s name. You hesitate for a moment, thumb hovering over the call button. Part of you doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to open up a wound that might not heal. But you can’t go on like this—not knowing, not feeling like you’re caught in some sort of limbo while your life hangs in the balance.

The phone rings, and each second feels like an eternity. When Drew finally picks up, his voice is familiar, warm even, but that doesn’t soothe the ache in your chest.

“Hey,” he greets, his tone light. “Everything okay?”

You swallow hard. “We need to talk.”

The casual ease in his voice disappears, replaced by a quiet tension. “What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You’ve replayed this conversation in your head a thousand times, and yet the words feel heavy on your tongue, almost impossible to speak.

“I heard something today,” you start slowly, your voice trembling. “About you. About that girl.”

There’s a long pause, and you can hear him sigh on the other end. When he finally speaks, his voice is tight, wary. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”

“I heard that you’ve been spending time with someone,” you continue, trying to keep your voice steady but failing miserably. “Is it true?”

The silence that follows is suffocating, and your heart races, each second stretching painfully.

“Look, it’s not what you think,” Drew finally says, but his answer feels like a half-truth. It’s not enough.

“Then tell me what it is,” you press, your frustration mounting. “Because I’ve been sitting here, waiting, trying to make sense of this. You asked for space, Drew, and I gave it to you. But if you’re moving on… if there’s someone else…”

You can’t finish the sentence, the words too painful to say out loud. The thought of him with another woman, of your daughter being caught between you, is too much to bear.

“I’m not moving on,” Drew says firmly, but there’s something in his voice—a hesitance, a guilt—that makes you doubt him. “Yes, I’ve been spending time with someone, but it’s not what you think. She’s a friend, and that’s all. I swear.”

“A friend?” You can’t hide the bitterness in your voice. “Drew, people are talking. I’m hearing rumors, and it’s killing me. Do you know how hard it’s been to sit here, alone, while you’re out there with someone else?”

“I didn’t know,” he says softly. “I didn’t think—”

“Exactly,” you cut him off, your voice rising with anger now. “You didn’t think. You asked for space, but I didn’t think that meant you’d be out there with other women while I’m here raising our daughter.”

His sigh is heavy, remorseful. “I’m sorry. I should have been more honest with you. I didn’t want to make things harder for you, and I didn’t think you’d hear about it. But I see now that I messed up. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

You shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Well, you did. And I can’t keep doing this. I can’t sit here wondering if you’re going to come back, or if you’ve already moved on. I need to know where we stand, Drew.”

His silence on the other end is deafening, and for a moment, you think maybe this is it—maybe this is how it all ends.

“I don’t want a divorce,” Drew finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want this to be over, I want to come home, back to you and our daughter”

Your breath hitches, and you wipe at your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “Then come home.”

There’s another pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he considers your words. “I will. I’ll come home. I want to fix all the messed that I’ve made… for you”

A weight lifts off your chest, though the road ahead still feels uncertain. But for the first time in months, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s fragile, but it’s there.

“I’m not going anywhere this time, not now, not ever” he promises, his voice stronger now. “We’ll figure this out together.”

“Me and our baby girl will wait for you to come back home, Drew.”

As you hang up, you realize that while the wounds may not heal overnight, this is a step in the right direction. Drew is coming home, and for now, that’s enough.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you #rafe cameron gif #drew starkey gif #obx #rafe obx #obx rafe #obx gif

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the-rebel-archivist · 14 days ago

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Finally finished Veilguard a few days ago and took some time to process and put my thoughts in order. In brief: 8/10 game as a whole, a really fantastic gaming experience, but 5 or even 4/10 as a dragon age game since it does no meaningful exploration of any nuance or moral complexity and seems to have forgotten what made Thedas distinct. My thoughts, critical and positive, coming from a place of love for the series with little to no spoilers:

Thedas has always been special to me because it was a nuanced world. Different groups had different opinions based on their pasts. City elves and the dalish had divergent histories. Injustice against magic was common, but you could understand the justification for it even when you didn’t agree. Now, the worldbuilding is flattened. A mageocracy is fine, it’s only bad apples. Slavery is never addressed. City and dalish elves are basically the same but one lives in the forest. There’s no conflict about what’s best from each individuals’ perception, all groups are monoliths.

“Elves won’t follow the gods just because they’re elves,” yes they would, in past lore. Perhaps not all but some would - these are their Creators. The game refuses to deal with religious belief in any meaningful way, to the point that I don't know if its impact is fully understood. Dalish religion is as much about cultural preservation as religion and it would be CRUSHING to lose that connection to the past when it had been all you could cling to for thousands of years.

And no, seeking out relics of Arlathan would not make up for the foundation of your society shattering and what that would mean to the dalish. Bellara being guilty that her gods are evil is not the takeaway I expected when I thought the dalish would explore that everything they believed was a lie. I'd also like to briefly comment on how an elf can comment that they weren’t raised dalish but adopted their tattoos. Their closed practice tattoos. Closed even to city elves unless they fully joined a clan. Removing cultural boundaries didn’t make the material less 'problematic', it just created a new blind spot.

“They’d never sanitize the Crows” I said before release. Assassins who walked the line between murderer and hero depending on perspective. But in this game they give you absolute truth: they’re freedom fighters. Responsible government who, the mob is benevolent and that is never subverted. They see themselves as the 'good guys' and so they are.

“They wouldn’t put powerful mages in charge of the shadow dragons” I said. “Surely they will explore the nuance of Neve having the privilege of magic in a mageocracy even when she comes from a lower class beyond ‘everyone is welcome in the shadow dragons’.” “Surely if Maevaris is connected her intersectionality as a magister and altus and trans woman will come up - not what Tevinter expects, helping with change, but still privileged and upper class. Surely low class non mages and slaves would be leading the Shadow Dragons, not the powerful being benevolent.”

But no. All factions in the game are black and white, good and evil, no moral complexity. The bad people want power and collect bad people who want power and only bad people do bad things. The antagonists I liked most were the ones with a motivation beyond simply power and they were few.

And that’s setting aside the fact that all of the mystery and fantasy was removed from the setting by the end. The things that mattered before, the religious conflicts, the approaches to history? All false or meaningless now that we know absolute truth. Everything that set Dragon Age apart from generic fantasy was flattened. All of the lore for the world that I had spent hours, days, years in and creating fanfic for became simple groups of good and bad, subjectivity replaced by objective truth. It’s not a world I want to unravel and explore anymore.

That hurts more than the slap in the face that was every cameo and past reference. If they wanted a soft reboot, why include them at all? Every time I saw or heard about a past character or event I felt hurt and angry and it actively harmed my experience of the game. When the choices are pared down to only do something "meaningful" with them and then that meaningful thing is a codex that had been so disdained in dev comments? I do feel pretty let down. Especially when that codex isn’t even personalized.

They never use Rook or the inquisitor’s first name in text once. Vocal I get, but no codex? The Inquisitor, a person depersonalized into a symbol, signing off “Yrs. The Inquisitor” when we input their name in CC was a twist of the knife I didn’t expect. It’s like every time I lower my expectations to grant grace they need to be lowered yet again.

Similarly, the romances in the “most romantic game yet” are paper thin throughout the game depending on your choice, with few chances to truly connect on an emotional level and have deep conversations in some routes. It’s not all about kissing but having the chance to say how you feel, or try to.

But that’s part of a larger problem, that this is a “found family” but Rook is the outsider in it. Rook isn’t asked how they’re handling things or about who they are or what they want except by Solas. The team needs them to fix problems but has little interest in giving back. The companions are lovely, but I can’t help wishing they were friends with me and not just each other. Or wanted to romance me and not just each other, as they begin to flirt before I can and have more banter comments than the player romance. At least if no one got me I know Davrin got me.

These last comments are the reason it’s 8/10 as a game rather than 10/10 for me - the lore I care about but others won’t. The lack of connection is a genuine issue, along with how unbalanced it is depending on romance. I just feel sad at the lost potential to reflect and gain support from companions.

On a positive note, this is the most fun Dragon Age game I’ve ever played. The gameplay is top notch and combat is so fluid and fun. I felt excited to fight rather than dreading the next battle. Really getting into the roleplay of a slippery rogue

The environments are so gorgeous. Lighting, animation, level design, sound design, all spectacular. I’m bad with maps and yet I never got lost and always managed to find my way around. Secret passages to treasure were just the right length to be satisfying. The puzzles were exactly the right amount of investment for the reward. I never felt frustrated by them but also not disappointed by the simple ones, there was a good balance. I had a lot of fun uncovering them. So many areas looked like a perfect representation of thedosian places I had never been to and wanted to visit.

Every time I was in the necropolis it felt like coming home. Maybe it’s because the lore was the most similar to past lore, maybe it’s just because it was cool, but I loved being there. I loved the wisps most of all. And I loved Emmrich’s journey and sympathetic exploration of death. The Hossberg Wetlands were also a standout area. Absolutely horrible (complimentary). Evka and Antoine my beloveds and the environment storytelling was fantastic. Like a hideous combination of the Fallow Mire and Chateau d’Onterre and I was so there for it. Davrin’s story broke my last flight loving heart.

The set pieces and narrative flow in the major battles and main story missions is really wonderful. I also did enjoy the faction reactivity, even if there were few chances to explore the intersectionality of being a particular lineage with a particular faction. I’ll make our House proud Viago!

It’s such a fun game that when I play I can almost forget all of the things that I dislike until a codex or cameo punches me in the face. It has such great gameplay that I can finally discuss DA with my partner who refused to play the other games in the series. But what a monkey’s paw. I know from their previous work that they can foster nuance. From the art book that their instincts were there from the beginning. But somewhere after multiple reboots they made a world with contradiction and complexity removed, more reactive to fan discourse than to telling a complex narrative.

It kills me because if the nuance and subjectivity and moral complexity had been there, I would have considered this the best Dragon Age game ever made. It will always be the most fun. But it is legitimately more fun for people who don’t know lore than people who do, and that is soul-crushing. It's the most beautiful Thedas has ever been, and the least like Thedas it has ever felt.

I’ve played it once. I already started a replay. I enjoy the game a lot when I am playing it, overall. But I miss Thedas, and I miss that the “world worth saving” that I cared for is a slate wiped clean and this new world is a more simplistic place.

#datv critical #bioware critical

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giannan04 · 3 months ago

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Hiii, can you please write a Yandere San X reader fanfic? Maybe where he’s her therapist and he gets her to break up with her bf because he’s been obsessed with her? 🙏🏽make it dark pleaseee? Tyy in advance

Thanks for the request!💕🫶🏻I hope you like it, I tried to fit everything in the best I could 🥹🫶🏻I hope it’s dark enough for you 👀

Pairing: Therapist Yandere! Choi San x afab! Reader, Mention of Jung Wooyoung X afab! Reader

Genre: Yandere; thriller

Warnings: Manipulation, mentions of a toxic relationship, slight smut, character death, very slight gore.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞

Dr. San Choi's reputation preceded him. He was the therapist everyone seemed to swear by. Patients praised his ability to get results where others failed, and he was known for treating some of the most complex mental health cases in the city. When your relationship with Wooyoung started having problems, your best friend Mingi suggested therapy. You were hesitant at first, but when he specifically recommended Dr. Choi, someone who had worked wonders for him, you decided to give it a try.

“Trust me, San’s the real deal,” Mingi said, leaning in with that serious look he gets when he really means something. “He helped me when I was going through one of the darkest periods in my life. If anyone’s gonna help you figure out what’s going on, it’s him.”

That’s how you found yourself meeting with San in his warmly lit office multiple times a week. From the start, Dr.Choi had a way of making you feel truly heard, like every word you said mattered. He never rushed through sessions and even went as far as canceling other appointments just so you could have more time when you needed it. He never told you that you were wrong, no matter how messy or complicated your relationship issues sounded. Instead, he listened with that same calm, reassuring expression that made you feel understood and validated. Over time, he even gave you his home address, offering to meet there if you ever needed to talk outside of office hours. You didn’t think much of it—you just figured he was incredibly dedicated to his work and to helping you through this tough time.

Over the weeks, San subtly guided you into believing that your relationship was toxic, that Wooyoung was holding you back. He never said it outright; instead, he asked questions that made you second-guess everything. "Do you feel like you're truly happy?" he'd ask, his voice gentle but insistent. "Sometimes, we stay in situations because we're afraid of being alone, not because they're right for us." Little by little, you found yourself reexamining your relationship with Wooyoung.

San’s advice seemed to play on repeat whenever you fought with Wooyoung. The tension between you two had been getting worse for months, with minor disagreements escalating into major arguments. Every time you argued with Wooyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling that San’s words were right there with you. Even though part of you still hoped things could improve, the truth was hard to ignore: deep down, you knew San was right, there was no saving your relationship. It felt like there was no way to fix what had become broken, despite your hopes that things could somehow get better.

One night, after another argument left you in tears, you found yourself at San's apartment instead of your own. You needed someone to talk to, and San was the first person you could think of. You had caught Wooyoung with another girl, and you didn’t want to be alone. You needed to let everything out. Your heart was broken, and you know the only person you could talk to was San. You hadn't planned on it, but he'd always offered you to come to his place,and before you knew it, there you were, standing outside his front door.

When San opened the door, pleasantly surprised to see you. His brows furrowed as he glanced at his watch. “Y/N? What happened? It’s almost midnight,” he asked, concern replacing the confusion in his eyes as he noticed that you were sobbing. Tears covered your face, and you were so hurt and anxious that you were shaking. San’s heart broke seeing you like that. Without hesitation, his expression softened, and he gently took your trembling hand. “Come in,” he said, his voice soothing as he pulled you into the safety of his home.

You sat on his couch, trying to hold back more tears as you told him everything—how you found Wooyoung with another girl, how you felt like your relationship was falling apart. San listened intently, never taking his eyes off you, nodding with genuine empathy. When you finished, San leaned in closer, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than this, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and comforting. “You deserve someone who would never even think of hurting you like that. Someone who truly values you.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words and the way his hand lingered on your face, the soft caress sending a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His touch was tender yet firm, making you feel safe; cared for. You haven’t felt that way in a while. You caught your breath as he leaned in just a bit closer, his other hand gently resting on your thigh, as if waiting for your permission. “I can show you what it feels like to be treated right,” he murmured, his gaze darkening with desire. Despite the hesitation you felt at the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny the lust and attraction you felt in that moment. You leaned into his touch, your body responding before your thoughts could catch up.

His lips were dangerously close now, and there was no more space between you. All the tension, all the confusion, all the heartbreak you were feeling—everything faded away as his hands slid further up your skirt, placing his hands on your ass, pulling you into him with a gentle firmness that felt intoxicating. “Let me take care of you, Y/N,” San whispered, his words making your body tingle and heart flutter. And before you could even think to resist, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you. In your head, you knew this was wrong, but your body felt so right. And you needed, no, deserved to be loved and cared for. It was about damn time.

“I want you, San… I need you. Please, take care of me,” you told him softly, never looking away from his brown almond-shaped eyes. That was all San needed to hear-the very words he had been waiting for since the moment you stepped into his office. San smirked, as he began undressing you with a deliberate slowness, savoring every second. He took in each sight of your beautiful body, pleased that it belonged to him.Before you knew it, he was fucking you right there in his living room, each touch, each kiss, each thrust leaving you wanting more. For the first time in months, Wooyoung and your relationship problems vanished from your mind, replaced by the warm sensation of San's hands on your body, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. The way his dick filled you up, the way he kissed your body was he made love to you.

The only things you were thinking about was how you never wanted San to stop making love to you. And San knew, finally… you belonged to him. San's hands rested possessively on your waist as he thrusted deeper and deeper inside you, your ass slapping against his thighs. You moaned uncontrollably, never wanting him to stop. You wanted to show him he had complete control over you. San’s eyes never left the sight of you, he loved seeing what a slut you could be for him, and how only he could make you feel this way. Smirking, he bent down close to your ear, whispered sweetly to you. "See? You feel it, don't you? How good we are together. You don't need him, Y/N. I'm the one who understands you, who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. Only I can make you feel this way. You belong to me, and I’m never letting you go."

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains, but the warmth in the living room felt oddly suffocating. You noticed a heavy blanket was draped over your naked body. You must have fallen asleep after what happened last night, so San must’ve brought a blanket out for you. You glanced over and San was still lying beside you, sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist. Yawning, you reached for your phone which was on the floor next to you. You unlocked your phone, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw a text from Wooyoung: I know I fucked up. But I love you. And I want us to work on things. I don’t want to lose you. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

Your heart fluttered with a sense of hope, but before you could respond to the text, you felt San's eyes boring into you. You looked up at him, not realizing how closely he was watching your every move. You didn’t even hear him wake up. His expression remained calm, but the slight clenching of his jaw told you everything. He was furious. He must’ve seen you open the message on your phone when he woke up.

"Oh. Wooyoung texted me. He wants to fix things," you said, a little too eagerly, not noticing the anger settling into San's expression.

San's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"That's... nice," he murmured, though his voice didn’t reflect that. He actually sounded pissed, but you could tell he wasn’t trying to show it. San stood up, wrapping the blanket around him as he walked towards his bedroom. “I have to get dressed. You can stay here as long as you need, Y/N. I actually have to head out for another appointment, but make yourself at home, alright?"

You nodded. “Okay, thank you,” you said sweetly, ignoring the tension.

San drove in silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He replayed your excitement over Wooyoung's text in his mind, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. How could you be so blind? After everything he had done to get you away from Wooyoung, after showing you what real love felt like, you still had the nerve to be excited about that cheating scumbag reaching out! Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe how San felt. He was so angry his eyes twitched and his hands shook as he drove. He had to do something, he was about to have you all to himself until that mother fucker sent you that text.

His thoughts darkened further as he arrived at the home you shared with Wooyoung. His plan formed in his mind, making him feel only a little better. He knocked on the door, his face wearing the mask of a friendly, concerned therapist. Really, he was the furious therapist who wanted to fuck somebody up.

Wooyoung opened the door, blinking in surprise. "San? Aren't you YIN's therapist?"

San let out a cheerful laugh. "Yeah, I am! My office is getting renovated, so I thought I'd stop by and see how things are going. I know Y/ N's been having a tough time, and I wanted to touch base."

Wooyoung relaxed slightly, shrugging. "She's not here right now, but come in. We can talk about how she's been doing. Ive been wanting to talk to you, anyway. Maybe you can give me some insight."

San stepped inside, carefully observing every detail of the house, the place where you once tried to build a future with someone who never deserved you. They moved throughout the home and as Wooyoung started talking, San could feel his blood boiling but he knew he had to remain calm. Wooyoung would get what he deserved shortly.

Wooyoung led San into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Want some?” he asked, holding the bottle up. “No, thank you. I’m just here under professional circumstances” San smiled, watching as Wooyoung shrugged and opened the bottle. “Suit yourself,” he said, taking a sip. San and Wooyoung sat at the table, ready to discuss sessions. Which was what San wanted Wooyoung to think, anyway.

"Ever since she started therapy, it's like she's blowing everything out of proportion.

She's been acting like our problems are way bigger than they actually are, like she's ooking for an excuse to leave. I don't know, man... it feels like she's being pushed into seeing the worst in me." Wooyoung stared long and hard at San.

San's eyes darkened, his smile slipping for just a moment as he watched Wooyoung ramble on. How dare he accuse him of manipulating you? Wooyoung was the one who had been lying to you, hurting you, cheating on you, and who knows what else. Hell, this dick was the whole reason you needed therapy in the first place! And yet here he was, acting like the victim.

"You really think so?" San's voice was low, dangerous. He took a step closer to Wooyoung, who didn't seem to notice the shift in San's tone.

"Yeah, it's like she's-" Wooyoung was cut off by the sudden pressure of San's hand around his neck. Panic flashed in Wooyoung's eyes as he struggled against San’s grip.

“San, what…what the hell are you doing?" Wooyoung croaked, trying to break himself free. He managed to break out of the hold, shoving San back with surprising strength, but San's fury was beyond reason now. The therapist quickly regained control, his movements turning brutal as he rained down punches, each one fueled by the sickening memories of everything Wooyoung had done to hurt you.

"This is for Y/N," San hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes wild as he struck Wooyoung with relentless force. San began to stop on Wooyoung, not caring that his blood was getting thrown into the air.

"For every tear she shed because of you."

Wooyoung's resistance weakened as blood dripped from his split lips and broken nose. San's breaths were ragged as he lifted Wooyoung's head by his hair, glaring into his fading eyes. “Pl-please, man…don’t do this. I love Y/n. I never hurt her that much. Believe me”, Wooyoung tears mixed with the blood covering his face satisfied San beyond reason. “Sorry, but with you gone, Y/n will be happier. If you really loved her, you wouldn’t mind dying.” With a final surge of strength, San twisted his hand, the sickening crack of Wooyoung's neck snapping echoing in the room as he tore his head clean off.

The lifeless expression on Wooyoung's face was frozen in terror as San calmly wiped his hands on a towel he found in the kitchen. The sight of Wooyoung's head dangling by his fingers didn't faze him-in fact, he was feeling a sense of satisfaction

San returned to his apartment, already mentally preparing to tell you to ignore Wooyoung’s text, that he didn’t deserve you. But when he entered his home, he found you pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

"San, I've been thinking... maybe I should give Wooyoung another chance," you blurted out. You didn't notice how San's entire demeanor shifted, his smile growing unnervingly cold.

"Why would you even consider that, Y/N?" San's voice was sharper than you expected, laced with barely-contained fury. You thought your therapist would’ve been happy for you, that you were ready to work things out. “After everything he's put you through, why would you care? Especially after what we did last night."

His words cut through you like ice. You hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction from him. Your face turned bright red and you avoided his gaze. "I... I don't know. I guess I was just confused. I just wanted to feel loved but I’m in love with Wooyoung, and it’s hard to let go of someone you cared about for so long."

San's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "You shouldn't have even cared when he texted you. Do you think that was fair to me? Letting me be the one to comfort you, only to get excited over him? And then you let me fuck you-" His words dripped with venom as his eyes blazed with barely-restrained anger. “You’re a worthless whore. Disgusting… I don’t know how I’m even looking at you right now. I shouldn’t have felt bad for you all of those times you came to my office, crying about him. You deserve to be treated like shit!”, his words dripped with venom, his face turning red as he screamed in your face. Your ears throbbed and you broke down in tears. San was scaring you, and the things he was saying to you hurt.

You took a step back, sobs shaking your body. San... I didn't mean for things to get so complicated… please stop yelling at me, you’re scaring me!,” you put your hands in front of your face, just in case he was going to starting hitting you.

San's expression hardened, and without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the living room. "I think it's time I show you something, Y/n.

You nodded, unsure of what he had to show you. For some reason, there was a feeling in your stomach, a gut feeling. Something was off. The unease grew as he led you to a trash bag that was sitting in front of the front door. “What’s that?,” you asked, confused. Why on earth was he showing you a trash bag? Did he want you to take the garbage out?

San laughed, but it wasn’t humorous. With a single swift motion, San tore the trash bag open, revealing the gruesome sight inside.

Wooyoung's severed head stared back at you, lifeless eyes wide open in horror. His olive skin had turn a sickly gray color, and a stench burned your nose. Your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled back, terror freezing you in place. You screamed, your hands covering your eyes as you dropped to the floor. “Why… why would you do this?”, you covered your face, as you choked on snot and tears. Your body shook and between the crying, the smell of rotting flesh, and the sight of the love of your life’s body-less head was all too much. You stared up at San. Someone you trusted with your problems, someone you felt safe with, was a monster. San looked at you, a twisted grin on his face.

"Now, Y/N, tell me... are you still confused about who really cares about you?"

I’m still taking requests everyone, I’ll write anything🫶🏻❤️

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