#he is standing right there and you know he is going to die

[fandomlit]

sweeter than hazelnuts (spencer agnew x reader)

i got this idea from a post by @smoshideasideasideas !!

summary you eat something you’re allergic to on eat it or yeet it and have the strangest reaction to the threat of anaphylaxis that the cast has seen. you talk about it on smosh mouth a week later, talking about how sweet your boyfriend was through it all.

warning talks of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions, swearing

gif cred belongs to @dutchesspotatoes

shayne sighed as he stared at the chocolate cookies in front of him. “this sucks. they both look like cookies.” you giggled nervously.

“worst problem ever,” courtney smiled behind him.

“i’m taking the more cookie-looking cookie,” shayne announced, grabbing the one farther from him. you grabbed the other. “sorry, y/n. cheers?” you both clinked the cookies together with cringes as everyone counted you down.

after taking a bite, shayne almost instantly gagged. you chewed with a furrowed brow as everyone laughed out.

“y/n, what’s going on over there?” garrett chuckled with confusion.

“yeah, what are you going through?” spencer laughed at your tormented expression, causing a few more laughs to erupt.

you looked over at him, still confused. “this is obviously the normal one, but there’s just something i’ve never tasted in here.” courtney snorted. you chuckled at yourself as you swallowed. “i don’t know.”

“this is absolutely disgusting,” shayne said after spitting the cookie into the ‘yeet’ and throwing the rest of it in the bucket, too. “i’m not even gonna let anyone else try it, that’s so horrible!” you all chuckled.

“shayne, that would because those chocolate chip looking things in your cookie is actually chocolate covered ground beef,” garrett announced. “with plenty of garlic and onion powder in the cookie to season.” shayne shook his head as he wiped his tongue with a napkin.

“that’s disgusting,” amanda declared with wide eyes.

“y/n, you just had a normal cookie,” garrett shrugged. “it was a chocolate cookie with chocolate chips, and i threw in some hazelnut to give it a nutella-like flavor.” everyone nodded as you froze.

“that sounds delicious,” angela moaned, amanda nodded in agreement.

“yeah, hindsight is 20/20 here,” shayne sighed, making everyone laugh again.

“y/n, are you okay back there?” emily called out. everyone’s gaze turned to you as you nodded slowly, gaze trained in front of you.

“okay, no one freak out,” you said, wiping your mouth with a napkin. you placed a hand on spencer’s arm, looking at him as you spoke quietly, “my epipen is in my top desk drawer, please go grab it for me.” after a surprised beat, he nodded and instantly ran off.

“what? what’s happening?” amanda said, eyes wide with sudden panic.

“i’m allergic to hazelnuts,” you said plainly, standing from your stool and placing your hands on the table. “so, i’m gonna go meet spencer and i have to go to the hospital after the epipen is administered.” everyone stared at you with dropped jaws and panicked expressions and stances.

“i am so sorry!” garrett gasped. “i had no clue, or i would’ve given a warning!” his hands covered his mouth as he shook his head. “that’s no excuse, i should’ve warned anyway. i’m so sorry.”

“it's alright, you had no idea,” you waved. you looked around at your castmates and directors. “this has been fun—i don’t wanna die on the smosh stage.” shayne laughed out in shock.

“yes! leave! right now!”

you waved before sprinting offstage.

they all stared after you in shock.

“like, what do we-“ courtney took a breath, looking to the producers. “do we keep going? what- what just happened?"

….

a week after the incident, you were worlds better than you were that day. after getting doted on by your loving friends and assuring them that you were alright, things were mostly back to normal in the smoffice.

your allergy was a complete surprise to the entire office, and you knew that. you weren't super active on social medias or super open about your personal life--it took over a year for them to even figure out you were crushing spencer before you two started dating (who always likes to tell people he knew all along, when he really didn't). it wasn't that you were uncomfortable sharing, it was simply that you didn't talk about yourself often. it wasn't a privacy or a shy thing, it was just.. you.

and so at the beginning of the week, amanda and shayne practically begged you to come onto smosh mouth and talk about yourself some more with them, for both the audience and for their sakes. you found you couldn't say no to them.

“y/n, let’s just talk about you for a second,” shayne said. you smiled as amanda clapped and cheered for you. you weren't even ten minutes into the podcast yet. “one of our newer cast members, you’ve been here for two years now..?”

“almost,” you smiled. "time flies when you're having fun they say."

“but tell us some things about you, y/n,” amanda smiled. “the fans have loved you since your first appearance, but you’re super private.” you shrugged. “like don't-even-have-tiktok-private." you giggled at that. "tell us some secrets that the fans don’t know.”

“well, i like long walks on the beach,” you sighed and they laughed. you smiled. “but for real..” you talked briefly about some of your interests and hobbies as shayne and amanda smiled and commentated. “oh, and i’m allergic to hazelnuts.”

“YES,” shayne spoke seriously. “oh my god, did we find that out in the most horrifying way possible.”

“i mean it when i say we were shitting bricks when you left that shoot, y/n,” amanda spoke with wide eyes as you giggled with slight embarrassment.

“let me say, everyone was so incredibly sweet,” you grinned. “like, you all checking in on me and making sure i was okay after the fact was so kind and i appreciated it so much. everyone showed so much care, garrett even brought me new cookies the next day with no hazelnuts.”

“yeah, ian also enacted the no-hazelnuts act of 2025,” amanda nodded, making you both laugh. “the kitchen has a new sign for it!”

you affirmed, “this is true.”

“so for those who don’t know,” shayne began, “the eat or yeet video has definitely aired by the time this will air, but there is a part where y/n and i drew the short straws to eat some cookies.” you nodded. “she ended up getting the normal one and i ate this absolutely disgusting meat cookie-”

“vile,” amanda agreed, shaking her head.

“absolutely,” shayne continued, “but y/n said she was tasting something.. weird?” he looked to you.

“yeah,” you sighed, smiling sheepishly. “i.. still don’t know what hazelnut tastes like, garrett said there was hazelnut in that cookie when he revealed it—all i had was, like, a burning sensation in my mouth at that point.” they laughed out in surprise, shayne offering a ‘wow’.

“i want you all to know, y/n had the calmest reaction to anaphylaxis i’ve ever seen in my life,” amanda declared, eyes still wide. “i don’t know if it made it into the video, i haven’t seen the edit, but after garrett said there was hazelnut she just, very calmly, turned to spencer next to her and told him where to get her epipen.” you laughed, cheeks burning at the memory.

“first, she told all of us not to freak out!” shayne added. “she said, ‘no one freak out!’, and then told us she had to go to the hospital.” you and amanda laughed. “like, i have never been around someone having an allergic reaction, but i expected more panic! more running, more urgency!”

you laughed again, hand covering your face for a moment before speaking, “yeah, that’s not my first time almost going into anaphylaxis. i just knew that if i had panicked, you all were going to panic, and that would’ve made it worse for me.” they nodded. "like, i may not have been able to get to hospital as quickly as i did."

“right.”

“but i want you all to know, spencer was the one who drove me, and he was freaking out the entire way,” you chuckled. “like, i stuck myself with the epipen, we got into his car and he’s, like, shaking.”

“oh, well, yeah!” amanda nodded. “that’s scary! your calm would’ve also freaked me out!” you laughed.

“i remember, i asked him if he was okay,” you smiled. “and he was like, ‘i-i’m okay, are you okay? that was- no, you’re not okay, we need to go.’” they laughed through your impression of spencer’s panic. “i felt so bad roping him into it, he was just the one sitting next to me in the shoot.”

“well, i bet- and we’ll have to cut this,” amanda said, looking to the producers. “i bet he was thankful he was the one who took you. if it had been my husband, or it had been courtney," she waved a hand to shayne, who nodded, "we would've wanted to be there with our partner."

you nodded, “oh, for sure. he would’ve just been pacing on set if he wasn’t pacing in the hospital. but he was so incredibly sweet, he stayed with me and was by my side as soon as i was treated. but he was infinitely more freaked out than i was.”

“but you’ve been through it before,” shayne offered.

“yeah, i have,” you nodded. “i knew how it goes and that i’d be fine as long as i got to the hospital, but spencer had never seen anything like that. he was so worried even after we left the hospital, he even offered to buy me a new epipen for my desk.” amanda ‘aww’ed. “which is sweet! but then i had to break the news that you have to have a prescription for that.” they both laughed. “but the thought was very sweet!”

“yeah, i don’t know if they kept the whole moment in or what, but there’s definitely a change from when you and spencer were there to when we pulled trevor and arasha out of the hallway to finish the video,” shayne chuckled. you laughed.

“i told them i didn’t mind if they kept it in,” you shrugged. you raised a fist. “hazelnut allergy awareness!” they laughed.

“so hazelnuts are spicy, you say? that’s the verdict?” shayne chuckled. you laughed again.

“all i know,” you said, gently dropping a hand to the table, “is that spencer agnew is sweeter than hazelnuts.” everyone ‘aww’ed. “and hotter, too.” they laughed out their surprise.

“okay, well, we do have the cut that.”

…

when you went to your boyfriend’s that night, you were smiling with the memories of talking about your experience on eat it or yeet it. though it had been scary, and you had been melting down on the inside, the care and love shown for you by your friends during and after the fact was sweet enough for you to almost forget the threatening aspect of it.

spencer greeted you with a kiss when he answered the door. “how was smosh mouth?” he asked as you kicked off your shoes. instead of answering, you just leaned in and pressed a longer, deeper kiss to his lips. he placed his hands on your waist before you pulled away. “wow. that good?”

you laughed. “we talked about my reaction on eat it or yeet it last week.” you shrugged as he gave you a half-grimace. “just got to talk about how great you were through it.”

“really?” he scoffed playfully, raising an eyebrow. “me freaking out worse than you were the entire time was great?” you giggled, placing a hand on his cheek.

“your care for me was wonderful,” you assured with a smile. “you were freaking out, but it was because you wanted to help and you wanted me to be okay. that was incredibly sweet, dear.”

“well, yeah,” he shrugged, cheeks going red at your sweet gushing. “who else is gonna bring me kickstarts and lose every board game?” you whacked his chest and pulled away from him before he could tighten his grasp. “i was kidding! joking! i meant, who else is gonna love me unconditionally and be so beautiful every day and tolerate me!”

“no! the moment’s over!”

[strawbairicake]

kisses are the sweetest treat- various hsr characters x reader

synopsis: playing the pocky game with your boyfriend! that’s it, send tweet. part 3! 

warnings: uh, none? other than that, idk if my beginner/novice writing counts as a warning. 

word count: 1511 (it’s longer than part 2… which is longer than part 1… fuck.)

author’s note: no beta, we die like my unfunny jokes. please pardon any mistakes in spelling or grammar! think of this mini-series as being set in a modern au, since even though i play the game, i’m not comfy writing canon-verse! most of my fics/drabble follow this format too! moving on, this is part 3 since previous parts did pretty well! i’ll link part 1 here and part 2 here! disclaimer from both previous parts: i genuinely don’t know how to write kiss scenes at all! other than like a peck on the lips, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right… right? doing my best and learning how to write better, please be nice to me! anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

hsr taglist: @axolotsofluv, @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n, @cmiru, @unriding, @sheyfu, @threnodians. @strwbrydreamz, @chokifandom, @sillyseraphie, @riaruu, + @m1ckeyb3rry! let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 

Caelus:

if you would believe it, the idea of the game was his idea. cheeky bastard (/lovingly). he probably saw a couple in a video do the challenge and wanted you to do it with him. you agreed to do the challenge as long as he didn’t post a video of it. so being the excited raccoon he was, he set out to go to a local store and get a box of pocky. next thing you know, he’s FaceTiming you while he’s in the convenience store.

“yes, Caelus?”

“hiii babe! what flavor of pocky do you want?” 

you blinked, slightly confused, then whispered, “there’s more than just chocolate?” 

Caelus snickered and bought the chocolate kind before returning to your apartment. he lets himself in with the key you gave him and scurries over to you on the couch, where you were reading a book. 

“you ready?” he wiggled his eyebrows obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

“yeah, yeah. just… don’t post the video, please.” you replied.

“promise! it’ll be our little secret.” he winked. you fought the urge to roll your eyes again.

he sets his phone up on the coffee table and starts recording. he then opens the box of pocky and fishes a stick of the sweet treat out before sitting next to you on the sofa. you’re both giggling like little school girls, and you’re both a little nervous. excited-nervous, is probably a better way to put it. Caelus is finally able to stop giggling for a few seconds, so he takes the opportunity to put one portion of the stick in his mouth and motions for you to do the same. and he’s so patient. he waits for you to inch forward just a bit before he himself moves closer to you. and as you both reach the middle of the stick, it doesn’t seem like either one of you will break it. the stick breaks even right in the middle but before you can pull your head back, Caelus cups the back of your head gently and kisses you so you can’t escape his grasp (not that you want to anyway. though you’d never admit that.). you tap near his shoulder as a sign to stop and he takes your cue and stops kissing you before peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. he then stands up and stops the recording.

“thank you babe!” he makes a kissy face at you.

“of course. that wasn’t so bad… maybe you can post the video.”

of course, that was Caelus’s intent. not like he would have told you, though.

Dan Heng:

March 7th got you a box of pocky for Valentine's Day as a joke, that’s the first instance. it’s a running joke you two have that Dan Heng will never get in on mostly because he doesn’t understand/want to understand. the next instance is just on a random day where March slides a box of pocky over to you like it has drugs inside (it might as well have drugs in them. have you EATEN a whole box of pocky in one sitting? shit’s addictive.). your boyfriend gives you a quizzical look, clearly not amused at you and March’s not going on. but wait, there’s more. there’s a third instance not long after the second that made you think Dan Heng lost brain cells at watching. you, Caelus, and March playing hot potato with a box of pocky. god, he swears his friends are idiots. but you’re his favorite.

so when you return home with Dan Heng after hanging out with said friends, Dan Heng notices the box of pocky in your hands. 

“what did you do?”

“…whoever won hot potato got to keep the box!”

Dan Heng wishes he was not on this earth right now. he sighed and opened your apartment door for you and you both walked straight to the sofa and sat down. you present the box to him to open, and he carefully takes the box with a sigh and opens it and the pack inside the box before getting a stick out. he hands it to you. you look up at him and stare for a moment. and everything is quiet for just a moment. 

“we should play the pocky game!”

Dan Heng felt his eye twitch.

“one game, and then we’re going to bed,” he acquiesced. 

and so the game began. you put a portion of the stick in your mouth, he did the same with the other end of the treat. you inch closer and closer until your lips touch and you can feel one of Dan Heng’s hands reach up and cup your cheek and as you lean into his hand, he breaks off the kiss. you playfully whine at the lack of affection.

“we can play the game more some other time. come on, to bed with you.”

he’s such a party pooper, you swear.

Sunday: 

god, your friends are so weird. this is the thought Sunday has as he watches you, March 7th, Stelle, and Caelus terrorize some children at the local park. his next thought is we’re gonna get banned from the park. the fucking park of all things. he heard something about a child and pocky and immediately joined Dan Heng on the bench to zone out. tune out when the world becomes too much, is what Dan Heng said. how he keeps his friends in check truly baffles Sunday. 

after about 30 minutes of Sunday watching you and your friends terrorize children (who probably deserved it but shhh), he comes over and holds you by the back of your shirt.

“huh? oh, hi, Sunny!” you say cheerily.

“hello, my love. before we go back home, do you want to stop by the convenience store?”

and the sparkle in your eyes was hilarious and precious to Sunday. his funny and magical words (to you, anyway) made you stop terrorizing the children. you said goodbye to your friends and you happily skipped by Sunday’s side to the convenience store. you picked a box of pocky, Sunday paid for it and you both were back at your shared home soon enough. 

Sunday held the keys to your shared apartment and got you both in. you excitedly sat down on the couch and started fiddling with the box of pocky before successfully opening it and the pack inside. you take a stick out and motion Sunday to come over. 

“come here, i wanna kiss you!” you say excitedly. Sunday’s face flushes a bit but he always indulges you. he sits on the couch next to you and listens as you explain the rules of the game you’re playing. you place one portion of the stick in your mouth, Sunday does the same with the other piece. you notice his wings twitching slightly as you inch close together. and when you reach the middle, you peck his lips and part from him.

“could we do that again?”

and suddenly your lover grew slightly bolder than before. not that you were complaining.

Gepard:

Serval gifted Gepard a box of pocky since she was one of the few people who knew about his “secret” sweet tooth. it’s not a secret, he just never tells people he likes sweets more than anything. so when he comes home to you after a long day and notices a box of pocky on the coffee table, his face lights up just a bit. you notice the look on his face. 

“oh! you like pocky too?” you ask. Gepard hadn’t even noticed you were in the room. what a bad boyfriend he was. he wasn’t actually, he’s just giving himself a hard time. happens to the best of us.

“yeah, i do! i really like sweet treats but pocky is probably my favorite.” he replied.

“oh cool! we should play the pocky game, then! but only if you’re up for it, of course!” you suggested.

so that’s how you ended up on the couch with Geoard eating multiple sticks of pocky before actually playing the game with him. and once you both finally found the confidence to play the game? it was on. 

the first stick you both start to eat breaks almost immediately- you’re both too excited to play. the second stick breaks closer to the middle when Gepard chickens out from kissing you at the last second. the third stick broke off when you heard a noise and moved your head in the direction of the noise.

…fourth time’s the charm, right?

this time, the little game you’re playing started off well. you both carefully inch closer to each other and as you reach for the middle, you cup Gepard’s cheek with a hand and he places a hand over your hand. and then… a quick peck before you break off the kiss somewhat suddenly. you start apologizing, but your boyfriend starts stopping you, gentleman he is.

“that’s alright! we can always do this little game a different time. I enjoy eating it more, anyway.”

you swear your boyfriend is a saint sometimes.

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[greenpolicelight]

Roommate - Satoru Gojo

Summary : You're Gojo's childhood friend, and roommate. Which leads to chaos or perhaps utter bliss.

Warnings : Smut, choking, body worship, size kink, over-stimulation, thigh fucking, fluff and smut.

Word count : 10k

Your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to pay all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

You hear a banging on your door. A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned, but instead, it's your childhood friend stands before you, taller and a lot hotter since the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never any distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You started to wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have the energy – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

It’s been an absolutely shitty day. Your shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his stupid secretary lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when she never did. You boss would publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off and head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off, you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, heading to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to cook and look after himself?

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to get the pans when you see that he’s placed them above, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it lower. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this.” You snarl and hop over the counter to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you���re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner was awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he took his time eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off, he actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop moving around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually quite, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully walk to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

The door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh. “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, his arms keeping you close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you.

His hand cups your buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching onto his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. He pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there , the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all.

It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.”

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time.

Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru…” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I…”

“You regret it, right?” he finishes drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels away as you watch him stride. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if…the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is the definition of feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie as Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please…”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[haitanology]

hiders, seekers. dogs and dreamers ; nam-gyu x fem!reader

—the fourth game starts after a gruesome vote. in the midst of reds and blues, your own struggles seem to rival those of the man who haunts both you and himself.

warning — angst. nam-gyu might be ooc. idrc. typical squiddy things. trauma. a very weird love but nothing wrong with that. depression. get the mc out of there TT. angst, ANGST. hurt and the comfort is very off. angst. they are a weird fucking duo but they slay (go nam-gyu, go reader!). AAAAANGST. nam-gyu is CRAZY. angst.

wc ~ 4k

there’s a distinct sound. a beep that shrieks higher, wanting to be heard as joyful, when the room is drowned in blue. like the button congratulates you, as if you’ve done a great job.

its coldness is warm compared to the glares that pierce your back. your hand doesn’t leave its comfort, begging for the time to halt. but life waits for no one, and in a place like this staying a few steps behind means to miss it.

you wonder what went through their minds as they decided to rebel, to bite back at the hands that clap for them as they fight death. the sick grins of those who enjoy this. the sick grins that are forced on people’s faces to forget they’re in this place.

a single way out, inside a coffin wrapped in pink. stained with blood. you know you’d take it eventually, you have accepted it.

a dog that waits for their owner. wagging their tail, playing around. you figured it out before them; perhaps being that sharp is more of a punishment than a blessing.

cheering erupts, other dogs celebrate. they get to keep playing as they wait, but others are tired. the exhaustion all over their posture, and yet their glares are just products of your imagination.

numbered dogs. money. people. friends.

friends.

switching out your patch, you almost throw out the white cross swimming in red. its tact scorching your fingers, a chewed toy you no longer want. you are not bored with it, but you sure are done.

once you turn around you see them. do they not realize? do they still cling to humanity?

why? you know why. you could, too, think that way. if you don’t avoid him, avoid the only real glare in the room.

behind the path between greed and agony, right in the middle, geum-ja trembles. one hand pressed to her son’s arm, the other close to her chest. her eyes are bright, a fight of hope and sorrow within them. there’s pity when she observes you, a motherly wish to forgive despite your wrongdoings.

throughout your life there has been many. you miss your mom.

on the other hand, yong-sik judges. he berates your every step, the blue hue below you that reminds you of your choice. albeit it is all a façade, for dogs don’t vote. we are doomed! you want to yell at them, but the ache in your chest prevents you from it.

a little close to mother and son, hyun-ju’s gaze follows you. it’s blank, a certain understanding to it, along conflicting thoughts. wanting to take your hand and pull you back to them, so that your eyes stop mirroring young-mi’s as she fell to her death.

opposite to you, bathed in red, jun-hee agonizes as the pain grows louder and keener. you want to help, you really do, but if people like young-il and jung-bae —strong and competent dogs— could die, sooner or later all of you will follow.

dae-ho can’t stop shaking, abandoned by everyone except his guilt. boiling into frustration, blooming into anger. weighting so heavy on his shoulders, you wonder how he can still stand.

and gi-hun. a kicked dog. tired of it all. his eyes mirror yours, they can’t even look up from the floor. only by the beating of your hearts can someone really tell you two are alive. you believed he could save all of you, guess he believed that too. faith is one powerful drug; when the effect wears off, the real world is devastating.

sitting on a bed you wait. kicking your legs, stare lost on the red of your shoes —a polished white they used to be. you wait and wait until strong steps make their way to you, hurried but determined. you don’t want to know, but awareness is a curse.

“what the hell.” nam-gyu’s voice is deep, guttural. lately all it sounds like is fury, desperation. he has seen and given death, screamed and insulted. “what the fuck are you thinking, voting to stay?”

even when his laughter appears strangled, nervous. there’s a mellowness that unintentionally seeps into his every word when he talks to you. thanos used to make fun of it.

now that you think about it, his death brought a tone that was clouded —darker and way more upsetting, as if something has switched.

“you are going to fucking die.” he continues, and you keep watch of his tweaking hands by his thighs. a telltale sign that this is nam-gyu, and not the version the drugs transformed him into.

he’s brass, wearing a shield of violence around him. you could care less, and so you showed him sweet and soft, you showed him what a hug could do. that not every intention was evil, that not all dogs bite back.

some yearn for comfort. some yearn for love.

you sigh. long, exhausted. looking up at him and the frown that threatens you. it’s unsteady, and his gaze glistens. cross tucked under his jacket.

“i want to keep playing—“ you cut yourself off, speaking in almost silence. a placid grin settles on your lips, common at the sight of him. even now that your mouth seems heavier; heart no longer on your sleeve. “and what’s a dog without their owner?”

you don’t mean to ask that. your expression, a forced peace, sending a rigid fright to crawl through nam-gyu’s back. its long, pointy fingers raking past his skin; so much so he could distinguish the scythe of death upon your neck. and you allow it.

he loathes the goosebumps that invade him while you are around. the twisting and churning of his stomach at the sight of you. the relief of his heart.

sweating, he stumbles with his words —your words.

“you— keep—“ lost in the mess of what you tell him, he struggles to form a sentence. he stutters, and once he does, groans and takes the collar of your shirt in his hands. pulling you up, forcing you out of the bed and closer to his face. “you can barely even look at me!”

he shouts, nose brushing your own. warm breath caressing you, lips parted and near yours. need replaces fear.

do dogs act like this?

you don’t mind the roughness at all, for it is nam-gyu’s odd display of kindness. you wouldn’t call it that; the fear that lingers at the thought of a stronger word is palpable and present, and in borrowed time you don’t dare to say it.

truthfully, nam-gyu has forcefully pulled you off the ground during the first game. you fell, stepped on by countless of terrified dogs, running towards one more day. next to you, even when you made no sound nor plea, he took your swollen wrists and pushed you towards the finish line.

“i don’t know why i did that so don’t thank me. just know that you owe me.”

days later, during mingle, he had pushed you into a room when you stood around without searching for someone else. you let the kind man who helped you in the six-legged race go with hyun-ju and young-mi, despite their protests, and welcomed your fate.

fortunately for nam-gyu, your fate had been being pushed face first into the wall of one of the rooms. a loud thud echoing as you fell on your ass.

“you have to be fucking kidding me. play the damn game!” he would yell out, giggling through his wrath. until his eyes widened and warmth pools under your nose, the metallic tang of blood slipping past your lips.

with quivering hands, he lifted his shirt to your face. gentle brushes, his free hand resting on your cheek as his thumb drew shapes and danced close to your jaw.

the dried blood will remain on his shirt forever, you can see it now if your eyes slide down. a piece of you with him, in case you leave.

you should have been greedier. to paint his lips in the same red he caused as you savored him. as you savored love. to bite and crave and give in to hunger. to get rid of the thoughts that plagued you, clinging to nam-gyu for salvation.

dogs don’t crave such feelings. the dogs here want the treat after retrieving the stick, and to be kicked around once they fail to do so.

before you realize, his hold on you turns weak. he’s standing far, far enough that you can’t reach him. his unkempt hair stuck to his forehead, brows furrowed as he fumbles with the cross in his hands.

smirking, he shows the pill to you. bright and colorful.

“take one.” he doesn’t beg, but rejection would stab him. the euphoria it would drown you in will give you life, will give you hunger. “take one, you’ll win the games. you’ll live. we will.”

maybe he could take you to the bathroom, figure out what’s wrong with the stinging pain in his heart and the searing fire in his stomach. fuck it out, what else could desire be?

the feeling is too strong, too terrifying. so unlike dogs.

“c’mon, one pill.” he shoves it towards you. when your hands don’t move to take it, fear creeps around, your presence fades. there’s no way you can make it without one, not like this. “they are good for you. in this place, this is a fucking treasure.”

he whispers, stressing out the last sentence. it remains in his hand, more so when you enclose it around his with your own. if it is so precious then he needs it more than you do.

when nam-gyu gets over the touch of your hands around his own, cold skin hugging the warmth of his, he comes across your beaming smile. fake like all the others, but only worn around him. it even makes for crinkles around your squinted eyes.

“i’ll be fine.” you don’t promise him, and the reassurance doesn’t carry anything other than an icy wind.

before he can say something —anything— back to you, the robotic female voice over the intercom speaks for him.

“players, the fourth game will begin soon.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊

your fingers take the cold metal and twist it. the machine rumbles, and your fate rolls down to your hand.

after so much blue, it’s ironic that the ball in your grasp is a killing red. with blue came the death that was soon promised to you. with this red, death now rests on your own hands. you are not made to be an executioner. the games have prepared you to wait for your treat —a bullet to your head— not hand it out to others.

dogs don’t share. dogs don’t play god.

hyun-ju and dae-ho stare back at you. blue in their hands. none of you take a step, and you join jun-hee and geum-ja in your little red corner. nam-gyu soon to follow. tension is thick, dogs become hungry.

the red vest weights you down, a red devil pushing your shoulders, calling you names. it says killer, it says fighter. it calls you a winner. yet you are none of those things, nothing but dirt on your body.

childish, but honed and whetted is the knife in your hand. drawing blood at the smallest contact, this was made to kill, to entertain. everyone fumbles with it, too big for some and too small for others.

nam-gyu plays with it, stabs the air. smiles, chuckles, elated from the pills that save him. beside you, geum-ja shudders; jun-hee holds the knife as if it were poison —as if she would be the one dead from it.

“you’ll be alright.” you promise her, free hand —the innocent one— on hers. you turn to the woman on your other side. eyes bright, pretending for hope, bathed in light. “both of you.”

then, the defeated get one breath of fresh air. the room becomes a dance between reds and blues, people switching, dogs running around in circles looking for others. you’ll leave both women with hyun-ju, you’re sure. yong-sik will join the doomed club, abused dogs that can’t bite back.

“hey.” dae-ho calls you, blue swaying with red. he speaks with tremor, tense shoulders and fidgety hands. sweat pools in his forehead, hairs sticking close. “can you— can you switch with me?”

a key dangles from his hand. he turns, scanning the room and stopping at gi-hun. the knife in his hand mocks him, huffs his name through gritted teeth.

you laugh. a heartfelt one, brief and sweet. it makes him jump, focusing on you instead. biting your tongue, clenching your jaw, that’s how you hide your own fear. stronger than acceptance, always a looming presence.

“sure.” he exhales, muttering endless ‘thank you’s. not done with the deal, dae-ho’s terror flows back into him at your proposal. all with a grin on your face, silently pleading. “but on one condition, i have to be the one you kill.”

begs and promises are thrown into the room around you. some cry, some smile. some protest and others choose to fear. dae-ho, with his eyes to yours, can’t utter a response. wide and shaking, his gaze struggles to hold itself together, watering.

balancing his own life and yours, walking the rope. his throat burns, itching to refuse. his hands can’t kill, his heart won’t handle it. he can’t end your life, he wants to save it.

but the game would be so easy this way. you seem to want it, too.

taking a single glance at the knife in your hand. at your bloodied corpse, at himself hovering over the casket. dae-ho would rather fight the fear.

he shakes his head. brain insulting him, reminding him of his stupidity. throwing away to live one more day.

your giggling alerts him. your voice has always been a mellow breeze.

“you’re a good man.”

the compliment embraces him. warms him, makes him feel at home. he’ll always be thankful for it, when gi-hun’s fury kills him. frustration choking him. he wasn’t alone. he was loved. there was someone who didn’t see him as a monster.

time runs up. fates sealed. the blues leave first, and geum-ja, jun-hee and hyun-ju offer a look of concern. for you, for yong-sik, for the people you’ll be after the thirty minutes are over.

“take the damn pill.” crouching down in front of you, nam-gyu enters your vision once more with the pill in between two of his fingers. “we both know you won’t kill anyone.”

“a beaten dog can.” you immediately answer, more to yourself than him. he barely even hears it. even when your voice is always crystal clear, no matter how much noise pounds his head.

crawling up to your thigh, his hand rests there. he gives it one squeeze, he tries to let out a laugh. useless as you sit broken before him. red doesn’t seem like a pleasant color after that.

nam-gyu doesn’t know whether he loves a person or a corpse.

“you take it.” you tell him after a brief silence. placing your hand on top of his, your face heats up. for a little while, the shaking stops, the pain dissipates. your heart’s joyful again, before this place. “you need it, too.”

the smile you give him as you talk, as you give up, haunts his every sleep. you have such a way to tend to his heart and destroy it. now in his throat, the beating turns erratic. the desperation morphs into one ugly creature, one that possesses people here.

one that bites. hard.

wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, nam-gyu blinks. a fire burning in his pupils, consuming it all. passionate, angry, demanding. his brows narrow and his lips scowl.

an enraged monster within him, clinging and clawing at your heart. hideous; beautiful in your eyes. nam-gyu will always appear prettier through your gaze, you wish everyone could see it. could see him.

“don’t you fucking see? no one here cares about what happens to you!” from his tongue only fire comes. it stings, it burns. tone irate, higher than usual at the exasperation. “no one’s here to save you!”

you digest the bitterness. take it all. with sweetness, a dulcet tone that coats your query, you ask him.

“not even you?”

silence follows. silence stays. you accept it, and as you leave him behind, he breaks into sobs.

as you are all led to the room of the game, nam-gyu takes the pill. succumbs to manic laughter and the hunt for terrified people. maybe he’d forget you were there, so his heart can shut up about it.

min-su, another boy you have bonded with, considering you two are one of the same, has gone off somewhere mumbling about the late se-mi. you’d be surprised to find someone that hasn’t lost their mind in this place.

the game begins. you navigate the maze, lost in the starry night above you. outside it looks much prettier, sometimes wishing stars would come up.

you’d wish for love once. only once.

you decide that, it isn’t so bad to bask in the cold air of a fraud sky full of stars. where shrieks echo in the distance, where dogs run and play and their owners, somewhere else, laugh and cheer them on.

death lingers in every step. breathing in terror. in the path ahead of you someone mumbles to himself. blue, screams when he finds you in front, runs away just to be killed by another red. he thanks you, you don’t really care.

looking up at the sky. dark and dressed in shining stars, you ask for a big dinner in a comfortable home. for your friends to attend, for their dreams to be achieved.

you don’t dare to ask for love again.

numbers lower, clock runs to his end. only ten minutes remain when you turn another corner, walking aimlessly —talking to the sky. another person in blue stands at the other end of the corridor.

“i— i have a wife.” he says to you, rocking on his feet. hands behind his back, beads of sweat falling from his chin and onto the floor. painted a darker color, stained with dread. “i have a da—daughter.”

again and again he repeats it. he doesn’t talk about them, but shields himself from you with them. he walks closer.

closer.

“i have a wife. i have a—“ he halts, takes deep breaths. “a daughter? did i say that?”

he’s way bigger than you.

closer.

“i’m not gonna ki—“ you begin, hands up. although he starts to shout before you can finish the sentence, and his stroll turns to a full sprint. from behind him he pulls out a stolen knife, and in your mind nam-gyu’s face flashes.

your train of thought is cut off by a clean stab to your side. digging deeper as the man closes in on you. you open your mouth, no sound coming out but a mere ‘oh’.

he twists it, gritting his teeth and groaning. and like a pressured dog, beaten and kicked around, your hand shoots up in a flash and plunges at his neck. you barely register it; he doesn’t either, not until you two fall limp onto the floor. deep red clashing against the dark blue of the sky.

still, you keep breathing. slow, steady, with your back against the wall.

an announcement calls out your number, tells you you have passed. the collared dog gets their treat, but you swipe it away when it’s right in your face.

tormenting throbs invade your body, an ache you can’t get rid of slowly consuming you. the twinging pain spreads throughout you, slashing your every vein, artery, whatever it finds inside. when you cough and blood splatters the ground, you want to snort.

nonetheless, it all vanishes when past your hazy sight, you recognize the dried blood in nam-gyu’s shirt. pupils having devoured his eyes, chattering teeth and hands that wash themselves in your blood.

how lovely.

“nam-gyu.” you utter his name, in such a way it breathes life back to you. the sparkle in your eyes is back, and he can almost see himself reflected upon them.

you call his name with so much— care.

you call his name with so much love. a strange feeling to his heart, familiar only to you.

“i’m so glad you are here.” choking up in your own blood, you smile. all teeth painted red, you want to speak while you can. words flimsy and frail. “i— i wanted to—“

he listens, having his own mind —crazed and long gone— process whatever mess he’s seeing now. his head hurts, eyes stinging. you swirl in his vision, you look so happy to be gone.

his hands, morphed into fists, shake from the force.

“i wanted to keep playing—“ one deep breath after another, slowing down. you push past the agony. “to keep playing with you.”

you raise up a wobbly arm, hand reaching out for him. it lands on the side of his face, cradling him. caressing his skin, unbothered by the innocent blood that coats it. a first and last for nam-gyu as his head leans towards it in pure instinct.

pulling yourself off the wall, you approach him. slightly tilting your head, closing your eyes —even if you won’t open them— and getting to taste his lips as they dance with your own.

at first it’s shy, a first kiss that turns hungrier, desperate. nam-gyu follows your rhythm, answering you with the same devotion. tongue wrapped around yours, playing, tasting. alive.

he barely gives you time before going for another one. and another one after that. the greed only turning worse, the craving getting bigger. knowing there won’t be more afterwards.

once, you asked the starry night for love. and it gave it to you, you weren’t just close.

breaking the kiss, you explode in glee. with every shake of your shoulders your stomach screams in pain. you keep laughing, head turned from nam-gyu, whose head paints a picture of despair to him.

this is it. he says. this is all. he ponders, his senses turning hazy, the euphoria welcoming him back. hugging him with arms of outrage, showing him a path of death where you stand.

“you stupid girl, how could you?” he mutters, the cold leaving him with goosebumps. your smile full of red imprinted in his mind. “how dare you?”

in one last act of what he considers love, he lifts up the knife. a lone cry, an endless screech as he brings it down to your stomach. he stabs you once, twice, thrice, until the weight upon him lifts.

no doll eyes to your face, but sweet relief. he doesn’t know whether that’s his mind’s doing or reality.

a voice —the speaker— speaks past all the shouting around him.

“red players aren’t allowed to kill other red players.”

deaf to his ears, nam-gyu wails while he joins your body in an embrace. a hug he yearns for, in between tears and whimpers. he doesn’t notice when a shadow stands behind him, the sound of a loaded gun and the piercing bullet that goes in and out of his head.

coating childhood drawings with remains of brain matter. nam-gyu dies with his head resting on your shoulder, nose pressed to your neck and arms around your figure.

close by, hyun-ju opens a door that begins to sing congratulations.

you didn’t win. however, you have left this place with a smile on your face. a meaningful, peaceful —giddy— smile.

dogs don’t smile as they die.

dogs don’t grieve as you are eliminated. your name in their minds and not your number.

dogs don’t hug eachother so tightly, that even in death it’s hard to separate the two of you. the struggle takes more than one guard.

perhaps, there’s some sort of freedom to that. in a place like this.

i sincerely hope this is the worst thing you get to read today :3 in another life they all live and have a big dinner (yippee)

this is a pre-fic for a longer fic i’m planning. nam-gyu centered (but i’ll probably add other characters like dae-ho or hyun-ju). it’ll be called dogland, and it’s way different from this dw. with way more depth. dk when it’ll come out tho, i have ongoing projects i want to focus on.

hope you enjoyed this one <3 feedback is appreciated, reblogs would be great hehe. thank you if you read all this, i love nam-gyu that silly goof. one shots are fun to write sometimes.

[cravinganotherworld]

Dangerous inspiration - Part 2 (REQUEST) Frontman x reader

WARNINGS: Mention of death and guns

Notes: Hi! This is part 2 to the request I received. There will of course be further parts to this! Despair part 3 will be out tomorrow!

See Dangerous Inspiration part 1: Here

Wordcount: 1.5k

After the game you and Young-il were practically inseparable, until you had to cast your votes of course. During the last game you came closer to death then you would’ve liked, and you didn’t want to admit it but you were terrified. So, this time you voted to leave, you couldn’t stand another second in this hell hole. The ‘X’s cheered as you’re handed an X badge before walking over to join Young-Il who had also voted to leave. As you walk over and stand beside him he smiles down at you before moving his attention to the next voter. As more player voted the ‘O’s kept gaining more and more players, and as it got down to the last few Young-il left your side. You tried to reach for him but he was gone too quick.

“Think about what you’re doing” he shouts to everyone. “You are condemning innocent people to die, no one knows what tomorrows game will be, it could be you that dies next, or you” he speaks, pointing out people in the crowd. “This is our chance to leave, our chance to get out with what we’ve earnt, our chance to survive this…please think about what you’re doing” he pleads.

“Player 415, please make your vote” Young-il looks around defeated and slowly walks back towards you with his head hung low. You gently place your hand on his arm.

“Hey…at least you tried” He hesitates before nodding and turning his back to you. Your heart dropped but you didn’t take it too personally.

“Down to a majority vote, the game tomorrow will go ahead, we thank you for your participation” The guards leave the room and everyone returns to their bunks.

“Hey, you oka-“  You try and speak to Young-il but instead he takes no notice and walks straight past you. “Oh…okay” you whisper to yourself, trying not to let the tears fill your eyes. You nod gently to yourself and walk to a spare bunk on the opposite side of the room to Young-il, thoughts racing through your mind about what turned him so cold towards you. Slowly you sit down and cross your legs, playing with the hem of your jacket when suddenly a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hey, it’s y/n right?” You look up and see Gi-hun. Politely you nod. “May i?” he gestures to the stop in front of you. Once again you nod, and he takes a seat. “You did great in the games today, Young-il said you were feeling like it was your fault we almost didn’t make it, I just want you to know that it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault” He takes your hand gently to reassure you.

“Thank you Gi-hun”

“You don’t need to thank me, why don’t you come and sit with us? We have space?” You smile gently at him and follow him, rising to your feet and walking over to where the rest of the group sits. As you walk over Young-il looks up at you from his conversation, his heart faltering slightly as he takes in your messy bun and oversized jacket. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you stood in front of him, cheeks flushed, holding the arms of your jacket in your hands.

“Young-il, she asked if she could sit next to you�� Gi-hun spoke in the absence of your words.

“Oh uh…yes of course” he shuffles to the side allowing space for you to sit. As you sit down your thigh briefly presses against his, and flurries of electricity ran through you. For the remainder of the night you sat with Gi-hun, Young-il and the rest of your group until it was time for lights out.

“Attention players, lights out will be in 30 minutes, I will now repeat the instructions” You rise to your feet, saying goodnight to everyone as you walk towards your bunk your mind infiltrated with the feeling of Young-Ils thigh on yours. As you walk your gaze is stuck to the floor, until you bump into someone walking in the opposite direction causing you to stumble down. You look up to see Player 100 staring down at you as if he were about to kill you.

“Watch where you’re going will you, it’s not hard to open your eyes in here you know it’s not even dark yet!” he yells at you, tears start to fill your eyes.

“I’m sorry sir, I was distracted” He bends down, now closer to your face.

“I don’t want your bullshit apologies, stupid girl…” he reaches down and grabs your jacket were the ‘x’ badge sits. “Oh, poor girl, you want to leave? That’s a shame, isn’t it? This place is gonna eat you up alive, I don’t imagine you’ll be seeing the sun again” Suddenly a shadow eclipses player 100.

“That’s enough” his voice sends shivers down your spine. Player 100 stands, pushing you slightly towards the ground and walks around you, scurrying off to his bunk. You look up to see Young-il reaching his hand out for you to take. Gently you take his hand, and he pulls you up, your hand landing on his chest as he does.

“What happened?” he questions, you blush.

“Oh nothing, I just wasn’t looking where I was going that’s all”, he looks at you, clearly unconvinced.

“you’re one of the most observant people I know, somethings on your mind, what is it?”

“It’s nothing Young-il” you whisper and look down at your feet. He gently places his finger beneath your chin and lifts your head up. As your eyes meet everything else fades into the background and suddenly it’s just you two in the room.

“you can talk to me you know” he whispers, you nod gently

“I know” you reply

“Attention players, lights out will be in 2 minutes, attention player lights out will be in 2 minutes”

“I should go, don’t want to run into anymore people” you joke, Young-il doesn’t laugh.

“Stay with us” you look up at him in shock

“No..i don’t want to impose.

“Oh, stop being so modest, come on we’ll find a bed for you” before you could reply to Young-il takes your hand, dragging you across to his side of the room.

“Hey guys, do we have a spare bed for y/n?” Gi-hun looks around.

“We can swap a few people around so the one beside yours is free?” he speaks, looking down at your interlocked hands. A blush creeps up onto your face as Young-il nods and leads you to two beds beside each other.

“Here, now no one can bother you” he lets go of your hand so you could take a seat on the bed, he follows sitting opposite you.

“Thank you Young-il” you speak gently. He nods in acknowledgement and the lights switch off. You turn onto your back and lay looking at the bunk above you, a nightly routine in this place.

Hours had passed and still you couldn’t find peace enough to sleep, and no amount of tossing and turning was helping that.

“Can’t sleep?” you hear from beside you. You look over in surprise and see Young-il looking at you softly.

“Me either, it’s almost impossible in here, you never know what’s going to happen” you laugh a little in response.

“What do you think tomorrows game will be?” you whisper

“I don’t know…Gi-hun thought he knew what the last game was but they changed it” you look at him confused.

“What did he think it was going to be?

“Dalgona, when he played his games, the second game they played was Dalgona” you nod in understanding.

“All I do know is that the games seem to be getting harder the more people die, they’ll take out as any as they can in the first few” A moment of silence falls between you.

“I’m scared Young-il” you whisper. He gets up slowly, careful not to make any noise and sits beside you on your bed.

“You don’t need to be scared sweetheart” you scoff

“Of course I do, I’m the clumsiest person I know, if it weren’t for Gi-hun in the first game I would’ve died tripping over my own foot”

“I’ll protect you” your eyes widen slightly

“What…why would you protect me? You have yourself to protect”

“Because…. because…” your heartbeat quickens as he struggles to find the words “Someone needs to look out for you right? Someone needs to catch you if you’re going to fall all over the place” he responds with a quiet laugh.

“Oh…right yeah of course” you laugh lightly, disappointment evident in your tone. “I should try and sleep, I have no idea what tomorrow will bring” Young-il smiles down at you, his hand stroking yours gently.

“Of course, get some rest…I’ll see you in the morning” He bring your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss on it causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. Letting your hand go, he returns to his bunk, letting you both try and find enough peace to rest.

[stargazedwinchester]

I love the concept of reader being the boys' younger sibling! could you do one where reader returns from a date gone really, really bad?

they were excited to finally know someone new and when they walked out of the house, they were sooo giggly and happy- and then, at the end of the day, they come back to the motel with teary eyes and clearly heartbroken. their date acted terribly, not respecting boundaries, making little unappreciated comments and just ruining it all.

I've always had a feeling that in this scenario, Dean would be getting ready to beat the shit out of that kid lol. thank you if you do it! I'd prefer gender neutral but it's totally okay if you don't want to :)

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `no one hurts you, sam & dean winchester,༘♡

summary: you return from a date that you hoped would go well. your older brothers are ready to protect you at all costs, because no one messes with their younger sibling. word count: 591 pairing: sam & dean winchester x younger sibling!reader thank you so much for requesting!! this was so much fun to write!

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

You’re practically bouncing as you tie your shoes, dressed in your nicest shirt and actually wearing something that doesn’t have holes in it. Dean notices immediately, and naturally, he pounces.

“Well, damn,” he whistles. “Didn’t know you owned anything other than ripped jeans and flannel.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be jealous just cause I clean up better than you.”

Dean smirks, nudging your arm. “Alright, alright. Go knock ‘em dead. Don’t have too much fun.”

-

By the time you slip back inside the room, the door creaks too loud and your shoes scuff the carpet. You attempt to make it to the bathroom without saying anything, but of course, nothing gets past them.

“Hey,” Sam lifts his head and his eyes follow you as you walk past. “You okay?”

Dean’s sitting on the motel bed, cleaning his gun. He looks up when Sam questions you, and his whole body stills.

You don’t answer. You just drop your jacket onto the back of a chair, leaning against the table.

Dean is already standing. “What happened?”

You try to wave him off, give them some half-laugh, but it comes out shaky and broken. “It was stupid,” you say, your voice thin. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Like hell it doesn’t.” Dean paces, ready to grab his jacket and storm out into the night. “Tell me where they are.”

“Dean,” Sam warns him. “What?” He snaps. “Look at ‘em.”

And Sam is looking. His brows are furrowed deep with concern, as he moves over to you, he gently leads you over to the edge of the cheap motel bed. “Just talk to us, okay? What happened?”

There’s tears that start to well up in your eyes. Frustration takes over. “They were just… a jerk. The whole time they kept saying gross little things. Making jokes that weren’t even funny. And when I told them to stop, they got mean. Like, I just wanted to go home… they laughed at me when I said I didn’t feel safe and—”

“Give me their name.” Dean demands, and Sam scoffs at him. “Dean…”

“No, Sam, screw that. That little creep thinks they can pull that kind of shit and walk away? No. Not happening.”

There’s a pause, one breath, then two. Dean exhales like it hurts. He crosses the room and crouches in front of you, resting a hand on your knee. “Kiddo, I just… I hate that someone made you feel so shitty. You didn’t deserve that. You were so excited earlier.”

Your bottom lip begins to wobble.

You sigh, letting out a weak laugh. “It just sucks. I got so excited for it to just blow up in my face.”

Dean nods, his jaw tight like he’s physically restraining himself from storming out right now. He softens. “Y’know what? Dates are overrated anyway. Let’s go watch Die Hard and eat til we’re about to pop, yeah?”

Sam places a hand on the middle of your back, reassuring you that it’s okay to have bad dates. To have bad experiences, because it just shows that you met the wrong person at the right time.

Sam passes you the remote, smiling at you warmly. “We’ve got your back. Always.”

You lean onto his shoulder, resting your head just for a little while. You glance at Dean who’s watching you with pure older-brother instinct. Maybe some part of it reflects John, too.

That father-figure never really left Dean. Sam, too.

But with your big brothers by your side, you feel like maybe things aren’t completely ruined after all.

[chloe-skywalker]

For Who You Are - Jax Teller (Part #1)

Part #1

Jax x Fem!Reader!Knowles

Tara x Sister!Reader

Warnings: SOA, angst

Word count: 2,468

Summary: Being Tara’s younger sister who stayed in Charming and you have feelings for Jax. Only Opie and Gemma know about it. Y/n never had a problem with the club or what they do. Unlike her sister.

Authors Note: There’s a part 2 to this and it’s already done!

Masterlist

Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

Part #2 (coming soon)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Hey Baby.” Gemma greeted as Y/n walked into the TM office.

“Hey Gem. How’s he doing?” Y/n greeted back before asking about the broken hearted boy.

“Not any better. Unfortunately.” Gemma sighed.

“I don’t get it. She hates everything about him. She hates everything he cares about and loves. So why does he love her?” Y/n shook her head furious that her sister had done this to Jax.

“I wish I knew. Your sisters a bitch sweetheart. No offense.” Gemma sneared when she mentioned Tara.

“None taken. She is a bitch.” Y/n scoffed hating her sister for hurting her friend.

“Baby, I know you like him. Hell, you might even love him. Why don’t you tell him?” Gemma smiled knowingly.

“He chose Tara and now he’s broken over her. It’s to soon for him and he wouldn’t want me anyway.” Y/n shook her head sadly looking down.

“You’d be good for him.” She tells the girl she view’s as a daughter.

Y/n nodded in agreement but frowned at Gemma’s words. “I agree. But he doesn’t want me.”

“Have you asked him that?” Gemma raised a brow.

“I don’t have to.” Y/n drugs sadly before leaving the office to go to the clubhouse and go wake Jax and distract him for a while.

Y/n made her way through the clubhouse and back to the dorms, getting greetings on her way through. Y/n opened Jax’s dorm room door and saw him in bed.

Y/n ran and jumped on his bed right next to him. “Rise and shine blondie.”

“Go away.” Jax groans grumply and hungover.

“Not a chance.” Y/n shake’s her head not letting him sulk. “So what do you wanna do today?”

“Drink. Smoke.” He grumbled into his pillow.

“Nope. You're not doing either today.” Y/n shook her head, yanking his pillow away.

“Why the fuck not?” Jax questioned, annoyed that she wanted to ruin his plans.

“Because you're going to kill your liver and lungs. And I’m not ready for you to die. So get up.” Y/n stated getting off the bed and pulling the cover’s off of him. 

“You're annoying. You know that?” Jax says as he moved to sit at the side of his bed.

“But you love me. So get your ass dressed.” Y/n gets up to leave him to it.

“Y/n.” Jax calls out, stopping her from leaving.

“Hmmm?” Y/n turn’s back to look at him with a hum.

“I do love you, so thanks.” Jax told her with sincerity in his eyes.

“You're welcome.” Y/n smiled at him but she thought in her head ‘if only he loved me like I love him’.

Y/n distracted Jax for week’s like that. Taking him out and doing things to distract him from his hurting heart. They had been friends Y/n, Jax and Opie since they were 8 years old and Y/n was 7. The 3 being as close as they could be.

Y/n had had a crush on Jax since she was 13 and everyone thought the two were gonna end up together in highschool. Till Tara decided to have a bitch phase and a bad boy phase. She decided to start pushing herself on Jax. Her own sister's crush. It broke Y/n’s heart but if that's who Jax wanted then she would say nothing and stand by her friend. Everyone was pissed at Tara and Jax, having known Y/n and Jax liked each other and how close they were to ending up together. Then not.

Even if it broke Y/n’s heart she was gonna stand by Jax, and she did it for Jax. Not Tara. As far as Y/n was concerned tara could go fuck herself. The two were never close, they had very different views on the world and people. For example Tara hate’s the club and to Y/n it’s family. If Y/n didn’t hate Tara before she sure did now. Tara used Jax to fulfill a bad boy phase and then left him. Like he was nothing.

Spending all this recent time with Jax was really nice and Y/n enjoyed it, but it also made her heart clench. Because she knew it would never be more than this. Friends.

He chose tara over her once. He’d never chose her, he had the opportunity to and passed her up for her sister. So Y/n had given up hope of getting together with him.

But all the time the two were spending together and the smile back on Jax’s face caught everyone’s attention.

Opie decided he needed to talk to Jax about it. Not wanting to see Y/n hurt again.

“Hey man. Can we talk?” Opie asked while they were working in the garage it had been a slow day for TM so Ope thought it was a good time as any to have a talk with his friend.

“Yeah.” Jax answered, wiping his hands off on a rag.

“How’s shit been?” Opie questioned as they took a seat at the picnic tables, lighting up a smoke.

“Better.” Jax spoke, letting out a puff of smoke.

“Y/n got anything to do with that?” Opie said knowingly but he wanted to hear what Jax would say.

“Yeah. She’s been helping keep me busy. My mind off shit.” Jax nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips thinking about the Y/h/c-ed girl.

“She’s always been to good to be our friend.” Opie nodded back in agreement.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jax let out an airy laugh.

“But she cares for us. All of us. She view’s the club as family. Love’s all of us.” Opie knew it was obvious as to what he was hinting at. Or at least that he was hinting to something in general. He wasn’t being very subtle.

“What’re you getting at Ope?” Jax squinted at him suspiciously.

“She understands the club, the life, us. All of us. Y/n seems to be helping you move on.” Opie stated to his brother dropping his cigarette and stomping it out.

“So? What’re you trying to say?” Opie was just stating fact’s so Jax was confused as far as to why he was bringing this all up now.

“Just that it might be more than it looks like.” Opie shrugged, Jax needed to come to that conclusion all on his own. They could hint but he needed to figure out what he wanted.

Opie went back to changing the oil on one of the cars that had come in. Leaving Jax to himself and his thoughts on what Opie had said.

Jax thought on it for a long while before he decided he needed to talk to someone about what his thoughts had concluded to, and who better than his mother who seems to know everything. Or at least she had better relationship advice than the men of the club.

“Hey, baby.” Gemma greeted her son as he stood by the door of the office.

“Hey, man. Can we talk?” Jax asked, looking at her, and the confusion on his face about whatever it was he wanted to talk about was urgent on his mind.

“Of course, hun. What's going on in that head of yours?” Gemma set the files she was looking over aside and gestured for him to come in and sit down.

“I, I don’t know. Opie mentioned some stuff and now I just can’t stop thinking about parts of it.” He mentioned as he sat down across from his mom in one of  the client chairs.

“What's on your mind?” Gemma asked, giving him her full attention, curious as to what this could be about.

“Y/n.” Jax stated his friend's name with a sigh.

“What about her?” She raised a brow inturged.

“Opie, mentioned some stuff and it got me thinking.” Jax furrowed his brow.

“Thinking about what, baby?” Gemma encouraged him to continue.

“She’s always there, even when I don’t want her there.” He huffed out.

“You mean when you think you don’t want her there.” Gemma smirked knowingly as she corrected him.

“She doesn’t try to change me or take me away from the club.” Jax thought out loud, wanting to get his thoughts out.

“Y/n’s family and she sees us as the same.” She nodded along watching him closely.

“She support’s all my decisions and tells me off when they're stupid and reckless.” He laughs, shaking his head with a small smile on his lips. Y/n was the only one who got through to him when he was being reckless and changed his mind.

“She looks out for your best interest.” Gemma concludes for him. She got up and approached her son leaning against the front of the office desk and crossed her arms. “Baby, I think you know all you need to know. You just never put the pieces together. And you’ve never thought about how you feel about her, how you feel around her, how you treat each other. I think you know what you truly want, baby. Go get it and don’t let it slip through your fingers.” Gemma patted his shoulder and left him to think over her words. Everyone seemed to be doing that to him today.

Jax sat there for a while just thinking everything over. While he sat there he realized a lot of things and what broke him from his thoughts was seeing the girl occupying his brain walk past the window to the office.  Jax got up and rushed out the door.

“Y/n!” Jax called out upon setting his eyes on her as she was heading to her car to leave for the day. Luckily catching her in time.

“Hey Jax, what’s up?” Y/n looked at him trying to decipher the emotions on his face since he rushed over to her so urgently.

“Where are you going?” Jax asked with worry and confusion in his eyes.

“I’m off work now, Jax. My shift is over. You okay?” Y/n tilted her head looking at him with concern she reached up to place the back of her hand to his forehead then cheek checking for a fever.

“Uh, yeah. I think so anyway. What are your plan’s for the rest of the day?” He nodded, taking her hand from his cheek, he appreciated her concern for his well being.

“Go home. Eat. Maybe take a nap and watch some t.v.” Y/n shrugs her shoulders, did it really matter she was going home Y/n thought.

“Can I join you?” Jax would rather talk with her somewhere that's not the club, where they could be alone.

“Uh yeah sure. You know you're always welcome Jax. You don’t have to ask.” She shook her head confused at how he was acting.

“I’ll meet you there.” he smirked, letting go of her hand.

“Okay see you soon.” Y/n raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior but went with it.

Y/n got into her car and left the TM lot heading home and hopefully later find out why Jax is acting weird.

“Ma-” Jax walked over to Gemma who cut him off already knowing what he was gonna ask.

“You can go. It’s been slow anyways.” Gemma had an idea of what he wanted to leave and be off work for. So she supported it completely.

“Thank’s.” Jax smiled looking over to his bike to leave and hopefully the next time he was there things would be different between him and a certain y/h/c-ed woman.

^     ^     ^

“Come in!” Y/n called out from her kitchen as she heard a knock on the door. She hadn’t locked the door knowing Jax wouldn’t be that far behind her.

“Y/n?” Jax called out as he entered looking around for her.

“Kitchen!” She yelled, getting out a coke and a beer from her fridge for them to drink.

“We need to talk?” Jax said, taking the beer she handed out to him.

“Okay? About what?” Y/n questioned, confused even more as she took a sip of her soda.

“Nothing bad.” He tried to reassure her.

“That's reassuring.” She gulped turning to place her soda can on the counter behind her. “What’s up?” Y/n turn’s to face him and Jax just cup’s her cheeks and kisses her on the lip’s.

“Woah, with Jax-. I-I what are you doing?” Y/n stuttered pulling away from him enough to stop the kiss, shocked as to why it happened.

“Kissing you? Showing you how I feel. I couldn’t find the words to start so. . . “ Jax furrowed his brow in confusion, the kiss was pretty clear to him.

“Jax, you don’t feel this way about me, and I’m not a rebound kind of girl.” Y/n sighed casting her gaze away from him sadness was all anyone would see in her eye’s.

“What do you mean I don't feel that way about you? And I know you're not.” Jax didn’t understand why she thought he was lying.

“I’ve always been around Jax and you have never chosen me before. Not for this kind of thing.” She shook her head with a grimace.

“That's not true-”

Y/n pulled out of his grasp with a scoff. “Jax! You chose my sister over me. Everyone saw us growing closer and thought we were gonna get together. Hell, so did I. But Tara showed interest and that was all ended. . . You had a chance to choose me and you didn’t . So tell me if you're serious like you say, what’s changed?”

“I took my head out of my ass.” Jax understood where she was coming from. They were growing close and then Tara came along and ruined everything, but Jax would also take the blame for that because he let tara come between them. “Y/n, I’m sorry it seems like I want you as a rebound and I’m sorry for setting you aside for someone I never truly even cared about. I’ve loved you since we were kids and I’m an idiot for waiting so long.”

“I agree. You're an idiot.” Y/n nodded in agreement, still not looking at him.

“Did I wait to long and lose my chance? Because I love you Darlin. All of you for you.” Jax pleaded, hoping he didn’t lose her.

“I love you for who you are, Jax. I always have.” Y/n looked up at him directly in the eyes and she sighed. “No you didn’t lose your chance but-”

“I won’t waste it. That’s a promise.” Jax smiled the biggest he feels he ever has. She was giving him a chance, a chance he does not plan on wasting.

Taglist: @padawancat97 @maryvibess

[erikawrites13]

“Lesson Learned”

Fernando Alonso x Mark Webber x Virgin!Sebastian Vettel Rating: 18+ NSFW, virginity loss, rough dominance, dark Smut. emotional tension. power dynamics

Sebastian wasn’t supposed to be here.

He’d gone looking for a quiet place to cool off after the post-race press, frustrated, hot, still seething from the way Mark had blocked him in Turn 3. The door was open a bit. He didn’t knock.

And what he walked into stopped him cold.

Mark Webber shirt half off, legs spread wide on the long leather couch. Fernando Alonso between them, head dipped low, one hand pressed hard against Mark’s thigh, mouth moving in a way that made Seb freeze and feel.

His breath hitched, and the sound was enough.

Fernando looked up.

Mark turned.

Silence.

Sebastian went pale, fingers still on the doorframe, too stunned to move.

“Well, well,” Fernando said, standing slowly, licking his lips. “Look who wandered in.”

“Seb,” Mark added, voice thick. “Didn’t know you were into watching.”

“I—I wasn’t— I didn’t mean—”

Fernando stepped toward him, not bothering to fix his shirt. “But you didn’t leave.”

Sebastian flushed scarlet.

“Close the door,” Mark said. “Unless you want someone else to see you standing there, hard as a rock.”

Seb looked down and cursed himself. He was hard. Mark was right.

He closed the door.

They didn’t mean to touch him at first.

Just circling, cornering him with words, making him stammer as they asked questions he couldn’t answer:

“Ever been touched like that, Seb?” “Know what a mouth feels like around you?” “You ever begged for it?”

And then Fernando’s hand grazed his hip. And Mark whispered, “You ever even been with someone?”

Seb didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

The silence was thick — broken only by Mark’s dark, amused chuckle. “Well shit.”

Fernando’s eyes gleamed. “You’re a virgin.”

Sebastian’s mouth opened. Closed. Then a soft, “Yeah.”

The air shifted.

Gone was the teasing.

Mark stepped behind him, hands gripping his waist. Fernando’s hand came up to cup his jaw, thumb tracing the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been walking around like you know everything,” Mark murmured. “But you don’t know anything, do you?”

“I—I can—”

“You’re going to learn,” Fernando said, tilting his chin up. “And you’re going to learn from us.”

They didn’t go easy.

Fernando kissed him first hard, deep, taking his breath and giving him nothing but pressure and tongue and heat. Mark’s hands were already beneath his shirt, dragging it off, his mouth leaving hot trails down the back of his neck.

They laid him on the couch like a lesson in surrender.

Fernando guided him through the first touches, slow at first “Feel that? That’s just the beginning.” Mark showed him the edge of control “Don’t come yet. You haven’t earned it.”

They touched him like they owned him.

Every moan he gave, they took.

When Fernando stretched him, fingers slick and patient, Mark kissed his throat and whispered, “Relax. We’ll break you in just right.”

Sebastian trembled, overwhelmed, pleasure coiled so tightly inside him he thought he’d die from it.

And when Mark pushed into him slow, thick, filling him completely Seb gasped like it was too much.

“Breathe,” Fernando said. “You wanted to walk in like a man. Now we’re going to make you feel like one.”

Seb couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Could only feel Mark moving inside him, Fernando stroking him, kissing him, whispering filth into his ear until he shattered between them.

Later, when he lay sprawled and boneless on the couch, panting, his legs still shaking, Fernando smirked down at him.

“You think twice before barging into private rooms again?”

Seb’s cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy. But his voice was stronger than they expected.

“No.”

Mark laughed. “That’s our boy.”

Taglist - @dessashippr @mrvlf1 @oscarpastri @mimisweetz @fangirlmusicbiashoe

[venigni]

have you ever thought about what gemini’s reaction would be to p giving his heart over to geppetto ?

or like anyone’s reaction in hotel krat ?

my stomach hurts just thinking about it

Gemini eagerly speaks to P when Sophia's life is on the line, but says nothing when it's P's own after declaring that the only thing he knows now is that they're stuck together on the elevator seconds before the scene…

…it's a bit strange.

Round8 wants to have their cake of a Jiminy-like stand-in character to speak for the silent protag, yet, eat it, too, by never having him speak when it's actually needed, and never having him say much of value to sway P either way as though he's a completely neutral party.

The thing is, he shouldn't be a completely neutral party. He should have thoughts, feelings, and opinions, and be vocal about them. He should be nagging, annoying--that's literally what a conscience is! Plus, consider this:

Gemini knew 3 people:

Lea - she's dead (most likely).

Sophia - she's dead (for the time being; either just spiritually, if left "alive" or physically, too).

P - he's about to give up his heart (and probably die).

And you're telling me he's going to just silently sit on P's hip and not say a single peep as he's about to lose the only person left that he has? NOW? Out of all times???

And during the fight, he doesn't get his own recollection?! What about everything special he JUST said to P throughout the Abbey area?! Gemini is the most fond of P but he doesn't even get to be remembered in that montage!!!

To finally answer your question…I think this has to be one situation where he can't just sit by and watch as the only one he has left sacrifices himself for a mad man.

Gemini clearly has an ego, he clearly has thoughts, feelings, and emotions. His entire purpose as the guide of Monad's Lamp and the "conscience" of P is to lead him impartially towards the path of goodness…but because he has an ego, Gemini is--by the teachings and theme of the entire game, (what it means to be) HUMAN.

I think Round8, in a way, does convey this with this dialogue: After Sophia, Gemini is handing over his responsibility as guide to P by telling him he trusts him, and that he has to be the one to choose his own fate. Not listening to him, even as a guide, or anyone else. This is a nice sentiment.

But in my version of events, he would beg P not to give over his heart. If not for what's right--for, selfishly, ONCE, his own reasons and desires. To try to save P and everything they'd built together over the course of the game (and time traveling if you did DLC......)

Even though he said he trusts P to make his own decisions from now on, I just don't think he'd be able to keep himself quiet. I don't think a real friend could stay quiet in a situation like this, no matter how much they love or trust someone dear; Even if it was supposed to be like a final "test" for P and his blossoming humanity.

I think they should've had Gemini's dialogue filling up the whole fucking screen while the player is forced to make a quick decision as to whether or not to give over their heart. It should've be raw, overwhelming, obnoxious, invasive, desperate, contradictory, and, most of all, human.

At the end of the day, it's still P's choice to make, but he would fucking feel the weight of that choice of having to choose: Does he trust Geppetto, the shady fucker who's only ever sent him into peril the entire game? Or does he trust Gemini, who's been with him every step of the way?

Then, the people who hate on Gemini can choose the "wrong" decision to spite him and get fucked and have to play a whole new playthrough to face Nameless Puppet haha.

TLDR, the way Round8 wrote it is not wrong, and it still has a lot of impact, and beauty, and meaning. But I think Gemini should've played a bigger role overall in P's choices and story, and should've been allowed to have more agency. Though I do think it would've muddied up the story a bit and made it less neat and tidy with a bow, I, personally, find that more "human" than anything else, so.

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire enhypen — human blood bank series

season 4, part two

adult content featured — read at own discretion

“are you going to txt’s fraternity halloween bash?” sunwoo asked as he laid upside down on your bed. “soobin wants us there.”

you sighed, “you know i don’t do halloween or parties, sunwoo.”

he pouted. “please? we could wear matching costumes!”

“we’re not a couple.”

“and? besties wear matching halloween outfits all the time.”

you rolled your eyes. “and what do you suppose we dress as, huh? sexy angel and devil? cop and robber? football player and cheerleader?” you chuckled.

sunwoo, with a straight face said, “i was going to say ketchup and mustard but your ideas are way better!”

you grabbed a nearby pillow and hit him with it. you heard the door to the door open and heard eric, and the voice of your roommate, yunah.

“aye! yunah! eric!” sunwoo yelled. both came to your doorway, eric quickly getting comfortable on your bed as well as you stood by the edge.

“tell miss priss to go to the fraternity party.”

“i can’t because my older brother has already threatened to have my head if i ever went to one.” yunah laughed.

“who’s your bro?” eric asked.

“lee heeseung.” yunah answered. “he graduated last semester, but he still comes around sometimes.”

“never heard of him.” eric went back to lounging on the bed.

“well priss pants doesn’t have an older brother. only a lonely best friend who wants to wear matching costumes.” sunwoo said.

you rolled your eyes, and sat next to him on the bed. yunah still leaning against your door frame, “why don’t you like halloween?”

your face felt hot. “long story.” you waved off.

“some jerk told her a vampire would suck her blood and she’d die at halloween at a party.” eric mindlessly said while scrolling through his phone. “he was 6.”

“oh that’s awful, you were just a kid?” yunah gasped.

eric sat up, sunwoo holding in a laugh. “the child was 6, miss priss here was 16.”

“and you haven’t celebrated halloween since?” yunah went wide eyed.

you shrugged. “never was that big of a fan.”

“don’t lie.” sunwoo tapped your chin. “you loved dressing up and eating that candy.”

“when i was 12.”

“right before you were 16.” sunwoo shot back.

“okay, enough about that!” you pouted. “i just don’t want to go, okay?”

“heeseung always raved about soobin’s parties to my face. always to rub it in my face.” yunah rolled her eyes.

sunwoo, with a smirk sat up, “then let’s all go! your brother isn’t here to keep an eye on you, yunah, and you,” sunwoo pointed towards you, “he was 6, you were 16, it was 5 years ago, get over it.”

yunah hesitated, “i don’t know, my brother can be a bit, overprotective.”

eric made a pft sound with his lips, “it’s not like he has a tracking device on you.”

“no, but he always knows, everything.” yunah whispered. “i’ll be in my room.”

“looking for costumes, i hope!” eric yelled after her with a smile when she walked out.

“we should go as the three blind mice.” you stated.

“as if!” eric said and used your own pillow as a weapon against you.

ᓚᘏᗢ

“sunghoon, she’s going to txt’s halloween bash.” jake said from the other side of the kitchen counter.

sunghoon gripped the glass in his hand after taking a sip of the clear liquor, licking his lips. “she’ll be fine. yeonjun will probably use this time to find his next targets. he’ll keep an eye out on her for us.”

“she’s going with her roommate. lee heeseung’s sister.” jakes voice dropped.

sunghoon went still. he rolled his shoulders to stand taller. “heeseung will not go for that. he will burn the fraternity to a ground before letting his little sister go to a frat party.”

“that also means a fatter chance of heeseung and riki showing up and causing chaos.” jay spoke walking into the kitchen. “sunghoon, have your sister go to the frat party.”

“minju?” sunghoon looked offended, shaking his head, waving his hands. “she’s the complete same as me!”

he was right. park minju and park sunghoon were almost the same person, twins. except sunghoon was a few years older.

“minju would not agree to a fraternity party. and i refuse to let her surround herself with wolves.”

“wolves will be there?” jake asked confused.

“worse—fraternity boys.” sunghoon growled.

“make her agree. i’m sure she’ll have fun knowing her rival, yunah, is there.” jay smiled and walked back out, signaling end of conversation.

jake bit his lip, “i also heard, kim sunoo was going to be there.” then he laughed, “not to be mistaken by our girl’s best friend, kim sunwoo.”

sunghoon whipped his head up, eyebrows furrowed. “where did you hear that?”

“i have my sources.” jake smiled.

sunghoon leaned in closer studying jake, “moka told you.”

“aye, it pays off to be nice and you get the tea!”

ᓚᘏᗢ

“sunwoo, eric, i look ridiculous.” you huffed.

the boys smiled, eric said, “you mean delicious.” he licked his lips.

“any inappropriate thoughts going through your heads, get rid of them, now.” you frowned. you turned to the mirror in your bedroom, checking out your appearance.

did you really have to dress up like a vampire of all creatures? and one with lack of clothing? you wore a simple black corset dress, with black knee high boots, and black sheer stockings.

it was either the corset dress or the corset top with mini skirt. in your head, the dress seemed like a safer option.

“let’s just go. we’re already running behind!” sunwoo grumpily whined.

“it’s only 10 pm! surprised you think we’re late.” you said shocked.

“we need to talk to yeonjun about some things.” sunwoo hummed under his breath. “you look beautiful bestie, now let’s go.” sunwoo kissed the top of your head, and eric dragged you out the room by your hand.

“wait, yunah!” you yelped.

“right behind you!” yunah came out dressed as a princess, in a long white dress with a pink crown. “simple, but cute! i’ve always wanted to be a princess!”

“and now you are one! let’s go people!” sunwoo clapped.

“what’s up your ass?” you mumbled.

around 10:35 pm you all made it to the fraternity party and it was in full swing. college students making out, drinking, dancing, screaming, singing, all of it.

you locked hands with yunah, sunwoo locking hands with you in the front, eric behind both of you girls.

sunwoo immediately went to the kitchen, and positioned you and yunah together at the counter as he and eric got out the cups to pour drinks and hand it to you both.

“eric and i need to find yeonjun, you two stay here, don’t move. don’t accept drinks from anyone. understand.” sunwoo stated, pointing his finger at you.

“yes, father.” you rolled your eyes.

“that’s daddy to you.” eric winked. he and sunwoo soon exited the kitchen and disappeared into the crowd.

“are we really going to stand here until they get back?” yunah asked.

“hell no!” you shouted. “they wanted me here to have fun, so fun is what im going to have.”

yunah smiled widely, “cheers.” she said holding up her cup and yours tipped hers.

you both quickly drowned the drinks, disgusted by the after taste. “they need to learn how to make a drink!” you gagged.

“funny seeing you here, yunah.” yunah went still at the quiet voice. but then she tsked with annoyance.

“what is park minju doing here?” she gasped turning around. her eyes not deceiving her.

you knew of park minju. she was sweet, and very introverted. you heard around she had an older brother who was about the same, but you didn’t know what he looked like. if the good looks ran in the family, he was definitely as gorgeous as she was.

minju shrugged. what she wanted to do was punch her brother sunghoon for making her come to this stupid party in the first place. but he made a promise to buy her anything she wanted for the next decade with no fuss. no matter how expensive.

her first want? a new car. and sunghoon just so happens to be taking her car shopping tomorrow.

minju looked at you intensely, in her mind wondering what the fuss was about. heeseung and riki weren’t nearby to her knowledge, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t aware of you being here.

you suddenly felt the need to introduce yourself, so you did. “i’m yunah’s roommate.” you added after telling minju your name.

minju smiled. “is she a pain in the ass at the dorms like she is in class?”

“ya! park, don’t start!” yunah yelled.

minju laughed. “just teasing. bye girls.” minju waved goodbye before walking off.

it felt awkward for a beat before you cleared the silence, “do you need another drink?”

“i need another drink.” yunah nodded.

and another drink you and yunah had indeed. and that one drink turned into 3. and soon, minju had snuck her way back in teasing yunah, and yunah went after her in the main area, arguing.

you were too out of it to realize what happened. walking to the backyard to get some fresh air, you took out your phone to check the time.

2:48 am.

well damn time flies when you’re drunk. what have you even done the past 4 hours? drink? danced? laughed?

you placed your palm to your forehead.

to: sunwoo — where are you and eric? me n yunah didn’t listen. sent at 2:52 am

read at 2:55 am

from sunwoo — of course you didn’t. i will come find you in a bit. stay where you are. sent at 2:57 am.

read at 2:57am

“you okay?” a familiar deep voice sent chills down your spine, goosebumps up your arm. looking up towards the empty space behind the house, the tall blonde man stood. the same one from the coffee shop.

“it’s you.” you sighed out, walking closer without even thinking. “you—you forgot your coffee!”

riki chuckled. “i hope you enjoyed it.”

you drunkenly nodded, and when you went to take one more step, you tripped over something, landing into the man’s arms.

“whoa there. no more alcohol for you, my dear.” he caught you before you could hit the grass. his hands felt cold to the touch.

your face flushed, and you tried to hide in shame. “i, uh,”

“nice outfit, what are you supposed to be?”

“a vampire, it’s ridiculous.” you huffed. he circled you.

“i don’t think so.” he cut you off.

to riki, your scent, your blood was getting stronger. it could be the alcohol, or it could just be him losing control with every touch of you, but he was craving you. needing you. desired you.

deeper down a more selfish reason for wanting you scratched the surface.

“you know,” you began, “i don’t think i know your name.” you slurred, trying your best to form a coherent sentence.

he booped your nose, and you swatted his hand away, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “alcohol will make you forget many things, chicken.”

“huh?” you asked confused.

“i’ve told you my name before.” he stood tall, towering overing you.

your attention was quickly drawn to a loud yelp and an, “OH SHIT!” at the back door, yunah stood with wide eyes being held up by her arm by another tall man with fiery red hair.

“is that your brother?” you squeaked out. yunah’s brother was hot as fu—

“oh, um, yeah.” she nodded.

heeseung glazed over your figure once. he growled at the amount of skin you were showing. “do what you need to do riki, they know you’ve found her. i have family business to take care of.”

missing that he spoke of the guy’s name, “hey!” you yelled, and walked angrily towards the yunah’s brother. “put her down! she’s an adult and can do whatever the hell she wants!”

heeseung laughed. “oh babydoll, you’re cute.” he smiled and turned away. “let’s go visit mom and pa, hm?”

“shit.” yunah mumbled.

you looked off in disbelief, “he’s an asshole brother!” you folded your arms across your chest.

heeseung dragged his sister off through the grass and back gate, off to the darkness in disbelief that she would disobey orders.

“why don’t you come home with me? that way you can make sure yunah comes back safely?” riki whispered in your ear.

you jumped. “i, uh,” you stuttered. scratching the back of your head, you tried to come up with an excuse, “well you see, um, i’m waiting for my friends, and he told me to stay put,”

“and where are they now?”

“just running a bit behind.” your tone went down once he stepped closer.

“you’re coming home with me.” riki stated like you were some kind of kitten.

“don’t think so.” a man with thick eyebrows came out. he wore an all dark outfit with gloves, carefully taking them off.

what the heck was up with all these handsome men showing up out of nowhere?

“jay sent you to do the dirty work?” your mysterious blonde laughed.

“riki, leave. it’s not the right time.”

“ah, riki!” you pointed at him with a smile. both men ignored you.

“you mean you want me to leave, so you can claim her for yourself!” riki said, through gritted teeth.

claim her? me? you? were they talking about you? suddenly your body felt extra chilly and exposed. your head started to pound.

where the fuck was sunwoo!

you turned around, slowly, and stumbled your way to the back gate where you saw yunah and her brother exit. your head suddenly feeling extremely heavy and glazed over. almost like you didn’t have control over yourself.

almost like you were living an out of body experience. all you saw was a man with a bright smile encouraging you to walk further away.

“doll, where are you going?” one of the men said.

you were at the back gate, suddenly, foggier than usual outside, and the dark hair with thick eyebrows stood in front of you.

“how’d you get there so fast?” you groaned out, holding your head.

“you’re drunk, your reaction time is slower than usual.” he whispered, as if he was scared to talk too loudly to hurt your ears.

“where are you going?” a deeper voice asked again, this time belonging to riki as he stood next to you.

you grabbed your head once more. ouch. you winced in pain. all you could see was a disaster. you couldn’t make much of it. 3 cars. bodies. blood. hooded figure. dark short hair. a bright smile.

you fell to your knees. “my head is killing me!” you groaned. you started to tear up.

“come here.” you looked up, seeing riki motioning for you to stand using his two fingers.

“wha—,”

he helped you up. “don’t think too deeply into this.”

“huh?”

he pulled you into a tight hug, a weird sensation surrounding you and suddenly, your headache was gone. the pain was gone.

soon, you sobered up.

before you passed out in his arms all you remembered was a name from his lips.

“kim sunoo.”

≽^•⩊•^≼

© work of sugarushwriting | do not repost as your own or translate

my inbox is lonely, send me something! 💌

tag list 🏷️ @riribelle @xoenhalover @sasnotsus @stormlit-pages @cherry012309 @lonelylandofan @rikiiisoob

[loves-n-kisses]

can you pls do a pt2 of the everything everything fic 🙏

maybe Katsuki and reader confronting her mom and reader moving out of her controlling house

Ofccc!! sorry this is suuper late lol, been writing a lotta stuff.

Through the Window: Part Two - Katsuki x Reader

TW: slight emotional abuse, slight mental abuse

second part to this story!

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The week after your first taste of freedom feels like a dream you keep waiting to wake from. Every night, you sit by your window, clutching the All Might keychain Katsuki gave you, its tiny weight anchoring you against the fear creeping back in. Your mother is due home tomorrow, and the thought of confronting her—of facing the lie that kept you caged for sixteen years—twists your stomach. But Katsuki’s words burn in your mind: You don’t belong there. You’re not going back to that cage. Not now, not ever.

Katsuki has been relentless since that night on the hill. His emails are short, bossy: You’re not chickening out, right? or Tell me when she’s back. I’m coming over. You smile at your screen, heart racing, typing back: Not chickening out. Promise. You don’t know how you’ll face your mom alone, but with Katsuki in your corner, you feel like you can take on anything—even the woman who’s controlled your entire world.

The morning your mother returns, you hear the front door click open, followed by the sharp clack of her heels on the hardwood. “Hey, I’m home!” she calls, her voice clipped, expecting you to come running. You stand in your room, fingers tightening around the keychain, and take a shaky breath. You emailed Katsuki an hour ago: She’s coming back today. Can you be here? His reply was instant: Already on my way, dumbass.

You step into the living room, where your mother is unpacking her suitcase, her back straight, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun. She glances up, eyes narrowing. “You look… different,” she says, her tone probing. “Have you been taking your medication?”

Your throat tightens. The “medication” she’s insisted on—pills you’ve taken daily for years, supposedly to protect you from your allergies. You haven’t touched them since that day in the city, and nothing’s happened. No rashes, no breathing problems, just the world opening up around you. “Mom,” you say, voice steadier than you feel, “we need to talk.”

Her hands still. “About what?”

Before you can answer, a sharp knock rattles the door. Katsuki doesn’t wait for an invitation—he never does. He barges in, U.A. uniform slightly wrinkled, crimson eyes blazing. “Oi, shut-in,” he says, ignoring your mother’s startled gasp. “You good?”

You nod, drawing strength from his presence. Your mother stands, face hardening. “Who is this guy? You know you’re not allowed visitors. It’s not safe—”

“Not safe?” you cut in, voice rising. “Mom, I went outside. All day. I ate street food, ran in the park, met people. I’m fine.” You hold up the keychain like evidence, your voice trembling with anger. “You told me I’d die out there. You lied.”

Your mother’s face pales, but her jaw sets. “You don’t understand. I was protecting you. Your condition—”

“There’s no condition!” you shout, stepping forward. Katsuki stays close, his hands sparking faintly, a silent warning. “I’ve been outside, and nothing happened. Why did you keep me locked up? Why did you make me think I was broken?”

Her eyes dart to Katsuki, then back to you. “You’re too young to understand,” she says, her voice cold but fraying. “The world is dangerous. I lost your father to it—I couldn’t lose you too.” Her voice cracks, just for a second, revealing something raw beneath the control. “Everything I did was to keep you safe.”

Your chest aches. You’ve known your father died when you were a baby—an accident, she always said, though the details were vague. But that pain doesn’t justify the lie. “You didn’t keep me safe,” you say, tears stinging your eyes. “You kept me from living. I’m not a thing you can lock away.”

Katsuki snorts, breaking the tension. “Yeah—she’s not your damn doll. She’s got a life, and you don’t get to steal it.” He glares at your mother, sparks popping in his palms. “You gonna keep lying, or you gonna let her go?”

Your mother flinches, eyes wide. For the first time, she looks small, cornered. “Please,” she whispers, “you’re all I have.”

Your heart twists, but you shake your head. “I’m not yours to keep.” You turn to Katsuki, voice firm. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here.”

Katsuki grins, fierce and proud. “About damn time.”

Your mother protests, her voice rising into a desperate plea, but you’re already moving. You pack a bag—books, clothes, the keychain—while Katsuki stands guard, growling whenever your mother tries to follow. “You’re making a mistake,” she says, tears streaming now. “You’ll regret this.”

You pause at the door, looking back. “I regret missing sixteen years,” you say softly. “But I’m done missing out.” You walk out, Katsuki at your side, the alley air cool against your face.

You don’t go far—just to Katsuki’s place, where his mom, Mitsuki, is waiting. You’ve met her once, through the window years ago, and she’s always been kind, slipping extra snacks to Katsuki for “that sweet girl next door.” When you explain, Mitsuki’s face hardens. “That woman’s out of her mind,” she says, pulling you into a hug that smells like lavender and hairspray. “You’re staying here until we figure this out. No arguments.”

That night, you sit on Katsuki’s bedroom floor, your bag beside you, the All Might keychain in your hand. Katsuki sprawls on his bed, tossing a stress ball at the ceiling. “You okay?” he asks, not looking at you.

You nod, though your throat’s tight. “It hurts,” you admit. “She’s my mom. But… I feel free. Like I can breathe for the first time.” You trace the keychain’s edges, a small smile breaking through. “You gave me this. It’s like… you gave me the world.”

Katsuki’s ears go red, and he chucks the stress ball at you, missing on purpose. “Don’t get sappy, dumbass,” he mutters. But he slides off the bed, sitting beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. “You’re not alone, y’know. I’m here. And those idiots—Kirishima, Mina, Pikachu—they’ll have your back too.”

You laugh, wiping your eyes. “I know.” You lean your head against his shoulder, just for a moment, and he doesn’t pull away. The window across the alley is dark now, your old room empty. But the world outside is bright, waiting for you to claim it.

The next day, Katsuki drags you to meet his friends again. Kirishima bear-hugs you, shouting about how “manly” it was that you stood up to your mom. “You’re, like, a hero now!” he says, grinning wide. Mina insists on a shopping trip to “get you some real clothes,” tugging you toward a mall while Katsuki grumbles but follows. “You need color, girl!” Mina says, holding up a bright orange jacket. “Like Bakugou’s explosions!” Denki tries to teach you a racing game, laughing when you crash spectacularly. “You’re worse than me!” he teases, but he high-fives you anyway. Jirou slips you a playlist on a USB drive, her voice soft. “You need music for your new life.” Sero tapes a goofy “Welcome to Freedom” sign on your bag, winking as you laugh. Your heart feels full, like it’s stretching to hold all this warmth.

Back at Katsuki’s, Mitsuki’s already making calls—social workers, lawyers, a friend who knows about “cases like this.” You don’t know where you’ll end up long-term, but for now, you have a roof, a loudmouth neighbor who’d fight the world for you, and friends who make you feel like you belong. You look out Katsuki’s window, the city sparkling beyond, and feel something new: not just freedom, but home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

note: RAAAHH i hope you liked it my love!!

-made with loves n' kisses!💋✨

[alligatorcarapace]

Sorry for another ask but on the topic of city at war arc. Would you say in your opinion that narratively that leonardo was portrayed in the right while Raphael was wrong? That no one was listening to him and understood where he was coming from?

jhhsakdasd I am now the city at war blog, this is my legacy <3 [affectionate joke]

I would say the narrative does seem to be pushing Leo as being in the right.

Which is a shame becuase I think it would be way more interesting if instead it was left ambiguous and up to the viewer. As I said in the biggest ramble ever, it's a trolly problem kinda issue. Depending on where you stand will depend on who's side of the argument you were on.

I do have to disagree with you on the no one listening to Raph though.

Like Leo most defiantly was blatant doing the old "I hear you speak but I am not listening", he was being a peak asshole teenager, which good for him(I know that sounds bad but it means I can point at this and go "what do you mean 03 doesn't act like teenagers" XD).

Now Splinter on the other hand backed up Raph at the beginning of the episode. Even when he was supporting Leo he talked more about following your heart, which is goes back to Splinter wanting to reinforce independent thought into all of them.

Donny is playing pure neutral, not saying a thing during the arguments, only agreeing once Mikey got him on board and even then he's not arguing with Raph. Brains and Brawn enjoyers stay winning <3

Mikey disagrees but we don't seem him really interact with Raph on this point besides the first "idk I get where Leo's coming from" which is not surprise considering his love for heroism and heroism ideals. This man would kill an evil version of his dad without a second thought. It's for the greater good.

Now Casey is where it get's interesting cause he does disagrees with Raph, but the way he does it is fascinating.

"You know, Raph, I was always taught that no matter what, you fix your mistakes. I’m staying."

It's an interesting bit, becuase it's not outright dismissal, it's also showing Casey having a similar guilt mindset with Leo, which considering how he reacted to his dad's death, hunting down dragons, this is not surprising. And yet when he speaks to Raph it's in a more even tone, an explanation, and seemingly by the voice devilry, an opening of dialogue. Too bad Casey missed his chance when Raph was actually calm and did not see his brothers nearly die several times with in the past few minutes. So yeah Raph ditches cause that's how he deal with wanting to explode ever since the Mikey Pipe Incident. If Casey where here before Leo was doing dumb shit I think this interaction could've been different. Alas Leo makes horrible choices under emotional pressure. Like bestie what are you even doing?

But yeah I do agree with you and I think the narrative was running against our red boy. I think if they had another person side with Raph, maybe April on the account of her not being rich enough to get involved with giant gang wars, not wanting to see these teens hurt again, knowing this fight was always going to happen cause everyone dies eventually, like these things make her a good candidate to side with Raph.

Alas this was one of the moral episodes so there was a moral.

[muttoncon]

I saw your posts about vampire!mel and vampire!frank and offer you:

Personification of death!mel and regular human!frank. Mel is very,'I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result (Zusak, Marcus; the Book Thief)' type of death. She has a job, and she does it diligently. Mel enjoys collecting souls from hospitals; it's a brief moment of entertainment to watch doctors fight the natural order of the world. Everything dies, even if you care for it. Especially if you care for it.

So many people die and almost die on the day of pittfest that she's in and out of the building all day. Frank notices her for the first time standing in the room with Mr. Spencer and his family, standing next to Robbie as the children insist on intubation. Then he sees her sitting with Nick Bradley before his parents arrive. He sees her with every patient they lose that day. Frank becomes so obsessed with figuring out who she is that Santos doesn't get the opportunity to catch on to his addiction. Frank is an intelligent guy; it only takes a couple of conversations for him to figure out that she's death itself. A minor car accident on the way to work makes him realise that she'll stick around longer if it's his soul up for grabs.

Fast forward to Frank becoming the most active suicide risk in the building so he can have the chance to spend to her. He drives recklessly over the speed limit with no seatbelt, almost causing multiple car accidents so that he can talk to her on the way to and from work. Frank starts taking his lunch breaks sitting so close to the edge of the roof that a strong wind could blow him off the edge so they can eat together. On bad nights, he takes just the right amount of pills to almost OD, so she will have to come and sit with him on the floor of his bathroom. Everyone is concerned; no one understands how he can go around trying to kill himself all the time yet be so happy. Mel is equally obsessed with him, but every moment she takes from her work means hundreds of souls build up, which means even more work for her.

Eventually, Frank kills himself to be with her. It's not like he needs his friends and family. He has Mel. Besides, it's not like he'll be leaving them forever. He'll see everyone when they die. Mel refuses to collect his soul so he can travel the earth with her as a ghost for eternity.

frank langdon: man so obsessed with mel he’d abandon his mortal life and connections all for her <3 he’s just her little dog following her around while she actually works n collects souls. just along for the ride!!! unemployed n happy as a clam. god i love how they’re both just such lonely people that they fill a void that they didn’t even know was there

[shortentheway]

I Can See the End

Levi Ackerman x OC (18+)

Post-Apocalypse AU

Master List | Read on AO3 here

Holy shit, welcome to the eighth chapter. Never thought I’d say that but here we are. This is a really long chapter (like over 11,000 words) so just a warning. A lot of smut and just general foulness but what else would yall expect from me at this point. Writing this was truly a trial so please enjoy ♡

Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), age gap, power imbalance, profanity, unprotected sex, degradation, dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, emotional abuse, codependency, obsession, drug use, implied prostitution, violence, mental illness.

Chapter Eight ~ Odium

I can feel the intense migraine pounding in my skull before I even open my eyes. The dim, grey sunlight beams its way through the large open window, illuminating the room with a melancholic ambiance. It seems fitting, like a moment of clarity.

In the aftermath of the events of the night prior, my manic, erratic disposition has quickly shifted to the contrary. Contempt and unease fill my chest like a disease.

I attempt to turn my body to escape the light shining through the window, only to find that I’m trapped, encased by a larger figure.

I can feel Levi stir behind me. He tightens his hold on my upper body, pulling me closer to him. I feel his face bury itself in the crook of my neck as he hums in content.

“How’d you sleep?” He mumbles tiredly.

I blink in surprise. He’s awake?

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. I don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with. “My head hurts.”

“I’m not surprised.” He releases me from his hold and props himself up on his arm.

I take the opportunity to roll onto my back, sparing my eyes from the light, which helps my migraine some. “I think I’m gonna die,” I mumble.

“Tch, well, you only have yourself to blame for that.” He quips and grabs my jaw with his other hand. He looks down at me seriously. A glare that a parent would give to an unruly child. “You’re coming with me to work today.”

I look up at him with confusion and dismay, but before I can get a word in, he cuts me off. “You’re going to answer properly for the shit you pulled yesterday. I’m sure the premier would love to have a word with you.”

“But, I already apologized—“

“You apologized to me, sure. But you need a serious reality check. This is much bigger than just the two of us. Your actions don’t just affect the people in your immediate surroundings. So, you’re going to look my superiors in the eye and tell them you’re sorry, understand?”

I grit my teeth in defeat. I know he’s right, and I know I’ve disappointed him. “Yes,” I reply somberly.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he praises me, letting my jaw go.

I look away from him frustratedly, digging my fingernails into my palms as my heart sinks into my gut. I disappointed him, and I hate myself for it, and I hate myself for acting the way I’ve been. I could’ve derailed this entire operation just to prove some arbitrary point.

Mikasa was right. I’m just a selfish whore.

“I really am sorry,” I whisper quietly.

“I know you are. You told me last night,” he mumbles lowly, shifting his body again. “I’m going to run us a bath. It’ll make you feel better.”

I hum in response and roll back over on my side, turning my body away from him and pulling the blanket over my head to shield my eyes from the light. I’ve never had a headache this bad before, and I know it has to be from the moonshine.

I feel his side of the bed lighten as he stands up and makes his way toward the bathroom. A sense of dread washes over me as I lie there. I have a disturbing feeling that I fucked up a lot more than I realize.

One single mistake and it’s spiraled into borderline chaos, and I can’t seem to stop making them.

God, what would my family say?

I know they would be so disappointed in me. I can only imagine the looks on their faces. I know for a fact that my mother and sister would slap me across the face for everything I’ve done. Honestly, I would too. If I could go back in time and scream at myself not to eat those strawberries, I would do it in a heartbeat. I probably would’ve been better off doing drugs with the men in the bathroom.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan, clutching my head and gripping the roots of my hair.

I can hear his heavy footsteps against the old wood floor as he reenters the bedroom. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry out as tears well up in the corner of my eye.

He sighs, walks over to my side of the bed, crouches down to my level, and pulls the blanket away from my face.

“Listen to me, what’s done is done. All you can do now is listen to me and do as I ask so we can fix this. Calm down and use your brain.”

I nod shakily, still hyperventilating. I hear him sigh again as he moves the blanket off my body completely and scoops me up bridal style. “Sitting in the bath will make you feel better.”

“Taking a bath isn’t a cure for everything, y’know?” I grumble into his chest.

“Yeah, but it seems to do the trick when it comes to you.”

When we enter the small bathroom, the water is still filling the bath, and two towels, a bar of soap, and a comb rest on the ledge of the clawfoot tub. “Can you stand?” He asks me.

I nod in confirmation, and he carefully sets me down on the cold tile floor.

I stand there awkwardly, shivering and holding my naked body as he situates the towels on the hook by the door. He warms up the bar of soap by dipping it in the water a few times before setting it back on the edge of the tub. Once he’s finished, he pulls his underwear off.

“You’re gonna get in with me?” I ask quietly. He didn’t last time.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” He asks in return.

I shake my head. “No, no problem.”

He reaches for the knob to turn the water off. It squeaks a loud, horrible sound as he turns it. “Get in. Slowly, though, it’s hot.”

I bite my dry lips anxiously and walk over to the edge of the large clawfoot tub. The water is steaming hot like he said, but I sink one foot in regardless. I hiss slightly at the burn but then plunge my entire body in anyway.

“Hey, be careful! I told you, it’s hot.”

“It’s fine,” I grit through my teeth.

He huffs and takes my lower jaw in his hand once again, forcing me to look up at him. “What’s going on with you, hm? Last night you looked about ready to kill someone, and now you look like you’re about to off yourself.”

I stare up at him pitifully. “I’m sorry,” is all I’m able to say.

He closes his eyelids in annoyance, releasing my jaw. He carefully lowers one foot in the scalding water, then the other, acclimating himself to the temperature before fully submerging himself in. “You keep saying that,” he comments while gripping the sides of the tub.

I bury my head in my hands. “I don’t know what else to say! I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me!”

“You need to stop yelling like a toddler and explain to me what’s wrong.”

I take in a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. “I want to be a good person, but I’m not,” I say simply.

He replies back bluntly. “Nobody is a good person, not anymore.”

“I was,” I counter. “I thought I was anyway. My family would be so disappointed in me.”

I can hear his tone soften as he speaks.

“Why would your family be disappointed in you?”

I can’t help but think that the answer is obvious, but I humor him anyway. I know he’s only trying to get me to open up. “Because of everything I’ve done. The stealing, the lying, the drugs, the fighting— all of it. They’d fucking hate me.”

“We’ve all done bad things,” he says simply. I know he’s only trying to make me feel better, but I can’t.

“Yeah, but—“

“I promise you, everything you’ve done pales in comparison to a lot of the shit I’ve seen.”

I begin to grow frustrated. It doesn’t matter if others have done worse. It doesn’t make me any better.

“It doesn’t matter. They didn’t raise me this way.”

He sighs and picks up the comb from the edge of the tub. I feel him begin to run it through the ends of my hair before he continues talking. “You’re obviously not the same person that your family knew. You’re a grown adult, and you can make decisions for yourself. Sometimes those decisions are difficult.”

“They wouldn’t like me being with you.” I throw at him. “My mom would probably hit me.”

He keeps his composure. “Well, they aren’t here, are they?”

I shake my head in agreement. He’s right. They’re gone. But I still can’t help but imagine what they’d say if they weren’t. They’d scorn me, call me disgusting, an embarrassment. And they’d be right to do so.

“I was a child when the end came. I wasn’t even ten,” I whisper, recalling the last memories I have of them.

Levi continues running the comb through my hair, letting me reminisce. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“I can barely remember what it was like before. What it was like living on the outside. I remember my family, my house, and my school. That’s about it.”

“What actually happened to your family?”

I shrug. “They’re all dead now, at least I’m pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure?”

I hope so. I pray that my family is dead. I pray to God that they’ve been spared from the misery that is living on this earth. They don’t deserve to suffer.

“Yeah,” I say shakily. “I lived in the city. My dad and I were visiting my grandmother in the country when everything happened. All I remember was my grandmother telling my dad to get me somewhere safe. He brought me here, but he was denied entry.”

“I see.”

“How old were you? Do you remember what it was like?” I ask to change the subject.

“I was twenty-six.”

“You were in the military then too, I assume?”

“I was. I joined because I wanted to go to college, but I didn’t have the money for it. I met Erwin and decided to stay.”

Interesting. I always thought they seemed pretty close.

“Erwin’s really important to you?” I ask curiously, hoping he’ll tell me more.

“As annoying as he is, I owe him my life.”

“Do you love him?”

“I respect him.”

“Did you have any family? Like, from before? Besides Mikasa.”

“I did—“

“Ow!” I exclaim as he brushes through a knot too roughly, pulling some hair from my scalp.

“Shit! I’m sorry. You okay?” He asks frantically.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Yeah, it’s fine, just keep going.”

He hums and continues with my hair and his story. “I grew up with my mom and my uncle. I also had two friends when I was younger. We enlisted together. They were like siblings to me.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died when I was a kid. We were pretty poor, and she contracted meningitis. By the time we went to the emergency room, it was too late.”

“And your uncle?”

“He took me in after she died. I stopped speaking to him after I enlisted. He was a piece of shit who got what he deserved.”

“What about your friends?”

“They’re dead too.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry,” is all I say.

When he doesn’t respond, I decide not to dig into that any further. I can tell by the way his voice cracks that it’s a difficult subject for him.

I stare blankly at the steaming water and watch the tiny ripples on the surface that materialize with the slightest of our movements. Each brush of my hair, each deep breath taken, sends waves of energy atop the water’s surface.

It’s hypnotic, like a portal to another world.

In my catatonic trance, my mind begins to wander further and further into absurd scenarios and possibilities.

What would our relationship be like if the end never came? What would he be like? How would we have met? Would we even be together at all? Perhaps he’d be with someone else?

Has he ever been with anyone else?

The question that arises causes my mouth to dry and my heart to beat rapidly. I sit up completely straight, pulling myself back from the void.

My sudden movement causes him to pause his combing of my hair. I hear him set the comb down, the hard plastic clacking against the edge of the ceramic tub. He takes a deep breath in and a long breath out. “What is it?” He asks softly.

I remain facing away from him, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Have you, uh, ever had a girlfriend… like a real girlfriend?”

He openly chuckles at my question. “Of course I have. I’m forty years old.”

He’s right to laugh at me. It’s a ridiculous question. It’s normal for people to have multiple romantic partners in their life. Why would he be any different?

“What was she like?”

He huffs out another laugh. “You want to know what my girlfriend was like? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Anxiety begins to settle as I realize that I might be asking too much. His gentle tone when he begins his reply calms my nerves some.

“Her name was Petra,” he begins. “We started dating when I was twenty-eight. She was in her mid-twenties, if I remember correctly.”

“Did she look like me?” I ask without thinking.

He laughs again. “Definitely not. She was short with pale skin and red hair.”

I never thought I’d be one for envy.

“Was she pretty?” Another mindless question.

“Yeah, she was.”

Of course, she was. Why wouldn’t she be?

“What happened to her?”

I can hear him swallow and clear his throat before he answers. “She died on an expedition. Fell off her horse and snapped her neck.”

Shit.

“That sounds horrible,” I whisper.

“It was. I saw it happen. A meaningless death. A freak accident.”

He’s completely still now; both of us are. Not a single flutter breaks the water’s surface.

Did he love her like he loves me?

“Were you sad?” I ask instead.

“Of course I was. I wanted to marry her.”

I can’t cry.

I need to hold myself together.

“I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I realized that after she died. God gave me another chance with you. Do you understand? Why I’m so protective of you? I won’t lose you. I can’t. You need to understand why I need you to listen to me.”

It makes sense, but it’s almost too much to take in.

“Listen, I understand the way you feel. But I can’t live like this forever.”

“You won’t have to, just until this is all over. I told you I‘ll get you a nicer job. You’ll be able to do whatever you want. You’ll be safe. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

So far, he’s kept his promises, so I’ll let it go. Just for now.

I turn my body around to look at him, the hot water splashing around again as I move. He looks back at me softly. The permanent scowl he usually wears is gone, replaced by a loving gaze. I move closer to him and raise my hand to his face, gently caressing underneath his missing eye. “How did this happen?” I ask in a whisper.

He doesn’t seem offended by my question. “Shrapnel from an explosive. I was standing too close,” is all he says.

I say nothing back to him. I simply continue stroking his skin, feeling the jagged edges of his scars beneath my fingers.

I become completely lost in him, lost in his touch, his eyes, and in the moment. He seems so vulnerable. It almost makes me dizzy.

“Levi… have you ever felt this feeling… like, you’re not a person? Like you’re something more, something special?”

His eyebrows scrunch, but he maintains a gentle tone. “What are you talking about, baby?”

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his. It’s difficult formulating my thoughts into words. How does one describe a feeling so indescribable? “Sometimes I get this feeling. It’s more like an experience than a feeling, but I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like… a breath of fresh air or a big sigh. It’s like I’m not in my body, but I’m somewhere else, maybe heaven? I think? But it’s the best feeling in the world. It feels like God. Like you’re so close to God you can practically taste it.”

He simply shakes his head. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“It never lasts, though. Every time I pray that it lasts forever, but it never does. It’s horrible when it ends.”

I pull back to look at his face again, but he looks back at me with an unreadable expression, like he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes are glassy, though. God, I hope he doesn’t cry. I didn’t mean to make him cry. I just want to feel good, and I want him to feel good too.

“The first time it happened was when I ate those strawberries. The second time was when I got high. The third time was when you fucked me the first time. The fourth time was when you fucked me again.” I pull myself closer and sit myself in his lap. “Will you please fuck me again? Please, I wanna feel it. I need to feel something.”

He lets out a shaky breath, reaches up, and smoothes his hand down the back of my head. He looks contemplative, but not for very long. “Anything you want, baby.”

I lean in slowly, lightly pressing my lips to his forehead. I trail kisses downwards until I reach his prosthetic. He presses his eyelids shut, and I lay my lips over the missing eye. I continue downward along his long scar. He’s so soft, his skin, his hair. It almost seems unfitting, contrary to his nature. But his creamy, translucent skin feels like silk against my tongue. I slide the tip of my tongue along the lines of his disfigurement, gently, leisurely. He doesn’t stop me; in fact, he drags my body flush against his own. I hum at the feeling of his hardening dick brushing the inside of my thighs.

“You’re so smooth,” I whisper into his skin, continuing to trace my tongue along the harsh edges of his scars, all the way down to his lips.

He opens his mouth eagerly once my lips finally touch his. I shove my tongue in his mouth, and he swallows everything I give him. We whorishly moan into each other’s mouths like the depraved souls we are.

I reach my hand down between my legs, find my clit, and rub at it vigorously. He lets out a deep growl from the pit of his chest. “That’s right, baby. Play with yourself,” he mumbles, grabbing my ass in one hand and holding my body close with the other.

I pull back from the kiss, gasping, breathing frantically to fill my lungs, but never letting up on my cunt. “When I cum… will you choke me again?” I ask desperately.

His lips twitch, and a dark, lustful expression crosses over his face. “Fuck,” he grunts with a nod. “Yeah, baby. I can.” He quickly swats my hand away from my cunt and replaces it with his, continuing to rub fast, rough circles over my sore clit. His unoccupied arm still holds me in place. No matter which way my body squirms, the pleasure never eases.

I whine a high-pitched whine as I feel him take my nipple between his hot lips, tonguing at it gently like I was previously doing to his face. It sends a shiver down my spine, straight to my core, like an electric shock. My pussy pulses against his hand as I feel myself being pulled closer to the edge. “Ah, Levi, I’m close!” I shout in warning.

He pulls away immediately. I feel myself being pushed backwards before I feel his hand on my neck. He instantly squeezes tightly, not wasting a single moment. My airflow is cut off, but he continues his erratic movements on my clit. It feels so good it’s dizzying. I grip his muscular forearm as it flexes and tightens, the veins on his arm bulging with tension. He practically lifts me up by my neck, water splashing out of the tub as he does so. “Oh, fuck,” I sputter out incoherently. The words barely escape my mouth as I have no breath left to speak.

“Dirty little slut. Gonna cum, hm?” He asks with false affection.

I nod in his grip as my eyes roll back. “Uh huh,” I moan out haggardly.

“Of course you are. Go ahead then, cum on my hand.”

My orgasm rocks me as I spasm and tremble in his grip. He lets up on my neck, only slightly though, just enough for me to let some air in. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all out,” he groans earnestly.

My body continues to convulse as I ride out my high, my abdomen clenching and unclenching uncontrollably as he continues to stimulate me until I come down completely. He eventually lets go of my throat to hold me by my torso instead and gently lowers me back in the water as I embrace the final waves of my climax.

I look into his eye as I catch my breath. He looks back at me with adoration in turn, petting the top of my head as if I’m some kind of lap cat. I let him do it, though. I let him gaze at me as though I’m his most precious possession.

A diamond, he looks at me as if I’m a diamond in a sea of glass. Like I’m a painting and he’s a blind man who was just granted the gift of sight. “Why do you look at me like that?” I ask him breathlessly.

His expression becomes curious for a split moment. “Like what?” He coos.

“Like I’m an angel.”

His lips twitch into a brief smirk. “Because you are.”

Perhaps I was, maybe when he first saw me. But not anymore.

He pushes me back suddenly and stands up out of the water and exits the bathtub, ripping me from my daydream. “Alright, get up.”

I look up at him confused. “Huh? What—”

“Get up,” he maintains. “We’ve got places to be.”

I shake my head in refusal. “What? But you said you would fuck me. You promised.”

“And I will, but later. We can’t be late for this meeting,” he explains, grabbing a towel off the hook and walking over to the sink.

“But you’re hard. You didn’t cum,” I point out. His dick is still standing proud and hard as he dries himself off. It looks kind of painful.

He dismissively waves off my concern. “It doesn’t matter.”

I decide to finally leave the tub, trailing water on the tile floor as I walk. I approach him from behind and smooth my hands over his muscular back. He has a lot of scars there too. I wonder where he got them all? Does he even remember?

I rest my chin on his shoulder and snake my hands to his front, roaming my hands around in a similar fashion before trailing them down to his hard dick. I gently grip the base of his shaft in one hand and his balls in the other. “Please…” I drone in a soft, seductive manner.

His breath hitches slightly as he lowers the towel from his face. I hear him swallow before he shoves my hands away. He then turns around to face me. He looks me in the eye with a straight face and throws the towel somewhere on the floor. “You have five minutes,” he says, bringing his hand to my face and running his thumb gently over my cheekbone.

I’m slightly confused by what he means, but only for a moment. He slides his hand down to my shoulder and nudges me back, looking down at his erection. When it clicks, I nod in understanding.

I drop to my knees, feeling the ridges of the hard tiles on my joints. Saliva begins welling in my mouth.

He holds his cock in front of my face impatiently. “Suck it, then. Since you want it so bad.”

I don’t respond to his degrading demand. Not with words, anyway. I simply open my mouth, wrap my lips around his shaft, and take him as far into my throat as I’m able. He moans softly and brings his hands to carefully grip my head, not wanting to ruin his hard work detangling my hair. He pushes further down my throat, forcing a loud gag out of me. “You’ve been such a disobedient, ungrateful little slut.” I moan around him as he continues his rambling. “Is this your way of apologizing?” I nod and moan again as he continues fucking my throat. “Shit, you’re being such a good little whore now, aren’t you? My good girl.”

He pulls back from my face, and I look up at him through watery eyes. “I love you, sir,” I moan out, deep and heavy. His eyelids flutter shut, and he begins to stroke himself, precum leaking from his swollen tip.

“I love you too, Angel,” he breathes, easing his dick back into my mouth. I lick the underside of him with my tongue this time and attempt to take him deeper.

He becomes more and more frantic by the second. I bob my head up and down, and he thrusts his hips to meet me halfway, his balls slapping against my chin with each stroke. “Shit, gonna cum in that pretty little mouth,” he hisses.

I brace myself and relax my throat as much as possible in preparation to swallow, but to my surprise, he pulls back slightly, letting his dick rest on my tongue. While holding my head firmly in place, he shudders and lets out a deep shout.

His release floods my mouth. The bitter taste of cum invades my senses, and I whine loudly, screwing my eyes shut. It’s not a pleasant taste, but it’s not a bad one either. My instinct is to immediately swallow it or spit it out, but he pulls back and clamps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns me. “Keep it in your mouth.”

I obey him without question, looking up at him wide-eyed and anticipating his next command.

He slowly pulls his hand away and says, “Show me.”

I open my mouth and stick my tongue out slightly, showing him his cum coating the inside of my mouth.

He looks down at me darkly, with satisfaction and content. He pinches the flesh of my cheek before he nods his head. “You can swallow now, baby.”

I instantly close my mouth and swallow it all. The bitter, salty taste of cum still lingers in my mouth as I lean my cheek against his hard, naked thigh. He pets the top of my head soothingly as I catch my breath. “Fuck,” I gasp, chest still heaving.

“Get up and dry yourself off. We need to get ready,” he instructs, pushing me away and turning back to face the small mirror above the sink.

I stand up off the floor shakily and grab the second towel off the hook. “I don’t really have any clothes besides what I was wearing last night,” I remind him.

“You’ll wear one of my uniforms. It’ll be big on you, but it’ll have to do.”

“I can wear a military uniform even though I’m not in the military?”

“You can today.” Is all he says before walking past me and leaving the bathroom.

I quickly dry myself off and put my damp hair back into twin braids. As I finish the second one, he comes back into the bathroom dressed in a white button-up and black dress pants. “I left a uniform folded on the bed for you,” he tells me as he adjusts the sleeves on his shirt.

“Okay,” I mumble as I walk past him. I leave the bathroom to find that the bed has been made, and a uniform is laid perfectly folded on the bed for me, like he promised. I unwrap the towel from my body, fold it into a square, and set it on the bed, mentally preparing myself to put on these unfamiliar clothes.

It seems self-explanatory enough. It’s just a shirt, pants, and a coat, after all.

I start with putting on the underwear, which are obviously Levi’s. They’re slightly big on me, and I’m not used to wearing boxer briefs, which only adds to the discomfort. I put on the shirt next. It’s the same one he’s wearing, a white button-up with a collar. Then come the bottoms. There’s a belt, which I assume is supposed to be looped through the jacket like Levi had his last night. However, the pants are too large, so I decide to loop it through the pants instead. I pull on the socks and finally slip on the jacket. It feels large and frumpy. In fact, everything about the uniform feels wrong. I haven’t even looked at myself in a mirror, and I don’t want to. I don’t need to see myself to know that I look ridiculous. Just another addition to the embarrassment of my situation.

Levi walks back into the bedroom with his hair styled and combed. It’s still slightly damp, but it’s not noticeable unless you look at it closely. I also notice a bit of stubble that remains along his chin and jawline. He probably didn’t have time to shave.

“You look ridiculous,” he comments, looking me up and down.

“You’re an ass,” I mutter under my breath.

He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyelids at me. “Watch it.”

I roll my eyes and follow him out of the bedroom and into his office area. I notice my clothes are still lying on the couch from last night along with his slightly puke-soiled uniform jacket. “Damnit,” he curses, looking at the mess. He reaches for his jacket and picks it up, examining it for any obvious vomit stains.

“You can’t even tell that there’s anything on it. Just wear it.”

He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that. It’s the principle. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive for an hour.”

He looks back at me with an agitated expression and sighs. “There’s no time for me to clean it,” he grumbles as he frustratedly puts the jacket and belt on. There’s only a small stain towards the bottom hemline. It’s barely noticeable, especially if we’re going to be sitting down.

“I seriously think you have an issue with cleaning.”

“It’s better than being filthy. Put your damn shoes on,” he says gruffly, sitting down on the couch and pulling his own boots over his feet.

I sit down next to him and do the same, not wanting to rattle him further.

“How does your nose feel? It looks a bit swollen,” he asks, distracting himself from the jacket.

“It hurts, but not as bad as it did last night.”

“Good, it’s probably not broken then.”

He promptly stands up after he’s finished tying the laces on his boots. I stand up after him and follow him to the door. He opens it, steps to the side, and allows me to exit first. Once we’re both in the hallway, he locks the door behind him, and we begin our walk.

“What even happens at these meetings anyway?” I wonder out loud.

“Usually nothing much. Today, though, probably a lot. High-ranking officials from the Survey Corps and the Garrison will be there, so you need to behave yourself. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

The remainder of our walk to the meeting hall is short and silent, and anxiety wells up in my chest the closer we get. If he was serious about having me apologize in front of his colleagues, I’ll need to come up with something acceptable.

What the hell do I even say? Too much groveling and I’ll look pathetic. Too much stoicism and I’ll seem unremorseful. Christ, I fucking hate this.

“We’re here,” he says abruptly as we stop in front of a large wooden door.

Fuck.

“Hey,” he calls out to me. “You need to hold yourself together,” he tells me, examining the look on my face. He can tell I’m nervous. I know I’m not doing a good job hiding it.

My lips twitch in a slight smirk at his words. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He’s right, though. I need to hold myself together.

“Yes, sir,” I say finally.

He gives a curt nod and knocks firmly on the door three times.

A voice answers almost immediately. “State your name and business,” the deep, male voice responds.

“Captain Levi Ackerman, Survey Corps. I’m here with my informant.”

“Enter,” the man says after clearing his throat.

Levi opens the door to reveal a large room. It looks like an office similar to his own, only bigger, and there’s an enormous, wooden long table in the center that takes up most of the room. I assume it’s only used for meetings like this.

There are quite a few people here already. They’re all wearing the same uniforms as us, though some have different insignias. I recognize a few people right away. Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, and Mikasa. Everyone else is a stranger.

Another thing that I notice is that despite everyone in this room being military, there isn’t a single MP in sight. I can recall Levi saying that the Military Police weren’t involved in the investigation. He still hasn’t told me why.

“It’s nice to see you, Levi,” I hear Erwin’s voice sound from across the room as we approach him. “It seems like I rarely see you these days.”

Levi looks up at him confused. “You see me every day, Eyebrows. What are you talking about?”

“Only in passing. We used to work with each other every day, but we’ve both been so busy with everything going on and all.”

“Well, hopefully this will all be over soon.”

Erwin nods and abruptly turns his attention to me. “How are you? I’m aware it’s only been a week, but a lot can happen in a short amount of time.”

So, he knows. I’m not surprised. I’m sure Mikasa’s already told everyone about everything. I’m not sure why he’s sparing my dignity. But he did the same thing the first time we met as well. Perhaps he simply prefers to keep a cordial face. “I’m alright. Thank you for asking, sir.”

“I see. That’s good to hear. The two of you should have a seat. We’ll be starting soon.”

Levi doesn’t say anything back to Erwin. He simply rolls his eyes and pulls out a chair for me. “Sit,” he commands.

I sit down in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and he follows suit, pulling out the chair next to me and planting himself firmly.

One by one everyone else sits down in their own chairs around the table. The Survey Corps on one side, the Garrison on the other. I examine the man who sits at the head of the table closely. He’s quite old and fat, with a grey beard and glasses. The most interesting thing about his appearance is the insignia on his uniform. It’s a shield, like the others. However, there’s nothing else decorating it. I assume this man is the premier.

“I’m sure everyone is aware why we’re here today,” the premier begins.

“Yes, sir,” everyone replies in unison.

He shuffles through a few papers and files laid out in front of him before continuing. “Very well, then. We’ll begin with Commander Pixis. The room is yours.”

A tall, elderly, bald man sitting near the head of the table clears his throat. He runs a wrinkly hand over his large mustache before he begins speaking. “Over the past few weeks, we’ve increased the number of guards stationed in the lower sectors. This was primarily done as an intimidation tactic. However, it was also done to increase security.”

I have noticed more guards around the Green lately, and I assumed it had something to do with the investigation. Apparently I was right. They’re not doing a very good job, though.

The premier nods. “Has anything come of this?”

“No, not particularly. It’s difficult to bring people in for questioning without risking accidentally revealing our entire operation.”

A member of the Garrison sitting further down the table rudely interjects the conversation. “I don’t understand why we don’t just come out with it already. Why keep it under wraps? We should be threatening everyone involved with punishment outright.”

Commander Pixis shakes his head. “That would only instigate them further. It would make us look weak, ignorant, unprepared, and unorganized.”

Mike is the next person to open his mouth. “It would probably entice more people to join their cause, especially if they think we’re losing control over the population.”

The Garrison guard from before grows increasingly more frustrated. “We are losing control over the population!” He yells back.

“Enough!”

The premier’s loud exclamation is enough to silence the entire room. We all whip our heads to him in surprise.

Once he’s certain that he has our undivided attention, he continues his speech. “Zeke Yeager, his brother, and the rest of his accomplices have been actively plotting to stage a coup d’état in order to overthrow military rule. We don’t have time to be arguing here like animals.”

The silence at the premier’s outburst remains heavy; nobody dares to argue back. We all simply sit there with hanging heads.

So Zeke is the one behind it after all. It does make the most sense, but it raises more questions than it answers.

“Do we have an estimate of how many individuals have allied themselves with their cause?” Erwin asks the premier carefully.

“No, it’s quite difficult to say. They’ve done quite a terrific job of keeping their affairs under wraps.”

“And you believe that the Military Police are involved somehow? It’s the reason they’re not here, isn’t it?” Erwin questions again.

The premier nods his head. “Yes, I believe that to be true.”

Erwin leans forward in curiosity. “What evidence do you have to suggest that?”

“The Military Police have grown slack, prone to greed and self-interest. I’m sure you’re all aware of this. Zeke has been longtime friends with a few prominent officers. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s offered them some sort of deal. It would also give him access to weapons.”

“We need to up security in the armory if that’s the case.” Hange mutters out loud.

“To what lengths do you believe they’ll go?” Erwin asks again.

“We can’t be certain, but we must assume the extreme.”

Erwin raises an eyebrow. “Which is?”

A short pause crosses the premier before he utters an answer. “An attack, en masse.”

I begin looking around the table at the others reactions. They’re all wide-eyed, save for a few, as if they weren’t expecting things to escalate this way.

I’m in no state of shock. Obviously the population of laborers would grow restless with their conditions eventually. I’m surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner. Did these people seriously think that we would just lie down and take it forever? Perhaps ignorance truly is bliss.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just arrest him.” A Garrison woman with glasses chimes in next.

“Like I said, we don’t know how many people are backing him. If we cut off the head, who’s to say that more wouldn’t take his place?”

“We need to focus on de-escalation while staying vigilant. We need to be prepared for the worst at all times,” Pixis suggests.

The premier nods in agreement. “He’s right. We need to play the long game, and we need to be certain just how many people we’re dealing with.”

“What if we don’t have time to play the long game? They could be marching through the halls as we speak,” the same woman from before cautions us stubbornly.

Erwin drops his head in his hands. “It sounds like we all need to get a better head on our shoulders.”

Everyone nods defeatedly, and a short, uncomfortable silence fills the room before Mike opens his mouth. “We need to address the occurrence last night.”

“Ah, yes. That,” the premier exhales impatiently. He shuffles through more files before opening a few of them and continuing on with a sigh. “Last night’s events in the Quarter could have potentially risked the integrity of this operation. I’m sure most of you are aware. Lieutenant Ackerman has given us a full report.”

Everyone around the table nods slowly, but not a word is spoken, just awkward glances and anxious fidgeting.

Then, to my surprise, I hear Levi’s deep voice sound out next to me. “My informant would like to speak on the matter first.” I whip my head to him in shock. He looks back at me, serious and cold, but I’m left speechless with my jaw slightly ajar.

“Well, go on then, girl,” the premier orders expectantly.

I shake my head in a panic, not knowing what to say. Levi snaps his fingers in front of my face to pull back my attention. “How about you start with an apology?” He suggests.

Another humiliation ritual.

Everyone in this room knows of the events that transpired last night, yet they all sit there watching me intently, patiently waiting for me to confess my wrongdoings.

“I— um, well—“

“Get on with it, girl. We don’t have all day.”

“I’d like to apologize, formally, for my actions. Um, I was acting out of self-interest, and I’m aware now that what I did was wrong, so I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please—“

“We don’t need any of your pleading. A simple apology would’ve sufficed.”

“I understand, sir.”

“According to your file, you were assigned only to report on the laborers in the Green. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you were prohibited from entering the Quarter by Captain Ackerman directly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure you’re now aware of why that is.”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier sighs and turns his attention to Levi. “Captain Ackerman, I encourage you to exercise more control over your informant from this point forward to prevent a similar situation from happening.”

“I understand, sir,” he agrees.

“Make no mistake, one more step out of line and I’ll be forced to take action. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier sifts through more files and raises his head once again, this time towards Mikasa. “Lieutenant Ackerman, concerns have been raised that your personal feelings towards Eren Jeager could possibly pose a conflict between your own self-interest and that of your duty.”

She also nods dutifully. “I understand, sir.”

“Do you or do you not believe that to be true?”

“I don’t believe that to be true,” she responds confidently.

The premier doesn’t seem so easily convinced. “If I discover that your loyalties have been swayed, I’ll have no choice but to put you on trial for treason. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier then sighs and rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. “What a mess,” he groans frustratedly.

Nanaba raises another important question. “What I don’t understand is why the laborers are rallying behind Zeke of all people. Do they seriously believe that he’ll be a better leader?”

The premier hums in agreement but continues to explain. “No matter what the population believes, the only thing standing in the way of complete civil unrest is us. We work tirelessly, day and night, to ensure that this compound runs efficiently for the benefit of humanity. We cannot allow this power-hungry beast to jeopardize that, lest we all would like to risk extinction.”

“It’s clear what needs to be done, then,” Erwin declares.

The premier nods. “Anyone found guilty of conspiring with Zeke Yeager has committed an act of treason, punishable by death.”

“Wait,” Mikasa interjects.

The premier looks less than enthused. “What is it?”

“If someone were to confess, would you give them a second chance?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“Would you give me a chance to convince them?” Mikasa asks with a hopeful tone.

“Is this about Eren? What did we just have a conversation about?”

She hangs her head in dismay. “It’s not him.”

“What makes you think he’d turn his brother in? You really believe he’d betray his family for you?”

“I just said it’s not about him! Please give me a chance,” she begs.

“She has a point.” I daringly interject. Everyone at the table looks at me in surprise. “If we could convince people to confess, we would know a lot more. It would be easier to de-escalate.”

The premier looks visibly distressed but contemplative nonetheless. We all stare intently in anticipation of his verdict.

“I suppose there is a point to be made,” he trails off, running his hand along his beard. “Anyone who sincerely confesses will be pardoned from execution,” he finally announces.

Mikasa’s eyes widen in surprise.

“But be aware that their actions will still carry consequences. Is that clear?”

Everyone nods in understanding.

“Does anyone else have any further inquiries?”

Everyone around the table shakes their heads.

“Very well, then. You’re all dismissed.”

I hear audible sighs of relief from everyone as they immediately stand up and gather their things. I promptly follow suit, eager to get back to Levi’s quarters and out of this mess. I quickly make my way to the door alongside everyone else, expecting Levi to be following after me, until I hear someone call out his name.

“Levi, a moment?”

I turn around to find that the voice belongs to Erwin. He’s standing near the table alongside Hange and Mike.

Nervously, I look at Levi, silently pleading for him to turn them down.

Unfortunately, he waves me off. “Just wait out in the hallway, alright?”

“Okay,” I concede, trying to hide my annoyance and most likely doing a poor job of it.

Everyone else has left the room and presumably left to go back to their quarters, including the premier, leaving only the four of them.

Interesting.

I leave the room and stand out in the hallway like Levi asked, but eventually, like always, my curiosity gets the best of me. Once I’m sure everyone has vacated the area, I press my ear against the door, slowly and carefully, so as not to alert them of my presence. It’s difficult to make out what they’re saying at first, but I quickly realize that they’re talking about me.

“Well, you should’ve expected this,” Mike, or at least I think it’s Mike, spits frustratedly.

Levi speaks next, deadpan as usual. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

I hear a deep sigh and Erwin’s voice next. “Honestly, Levi, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t lose her. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“So you make her your informant?” Mike asks in disbelief.

“It was convenient.”

Mike scoffs. “Listen to yourself. How can you not see how fucked up this is?”

“Have you considered that perhaps this situation is affecting her more than you realize?” Erwin asks carefully.

“Of course I have,” Levi replies.

“Really? It doesn’t seem that way to me,” Mike quips back condescendingly.

“Mike—“

“No, I’m done pretending that any of this is okay. Taking advantage of a young girl to fulfill some sick desire is disgusting, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Levi grunts angrily.

“A fucking psychopath!”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“I don’t think you realize what’s going on here, Levi—“

“Shut the fuck up—“

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on with her,” I hear Hange chime in, interrupting the both of them. “What’s done is done. All that matters now is that Levi keeps her under control.”

“How can the two of you just be okay with this?” Mike sputters out.

“I’m not necessarily, but it doesn’t matter. We can’t go back and change things. The only thing we can do is make sure she cooperates so we have the opportunity to fix it,” Hange calmly explains.

Mike sighs and groans. “This is so fucked up. Is she even mentally stable?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that—“

“You need to calm down, both of you,” Erwin interrupts. “Hange’s right, what’s done is done. The only option is to ensure her cooperation—“

“Eavesdropping, are we?” I hear a feminine voice from behind me.

Startled, I spin around to find Mikasa Ackerman standing there with a mischievous look on her face.

Shit.

“Oh— I wasn’t—“

She rolls her eyes and holds her hand up before I can continue. “Calm the hell down. I don’t really care.”

I look back at her suspiciously. “Oh, uh, then what—“

“I hope you realize that our friend’s lives are riding on us,” she says seriously, cutting straight to her point.

I nod slowly. “I’m aware.”

“I’m serious, do you understand? We need to convince them. All they have to do is confess and tell the premier what they know.”

I maintain my stance of uncertainty. “Sounds a lot easier said than done.”

“Yeah, but it’s either that or they die.” She looks down at the floor solemnly, shaking her head in grievance. “Zeke is going to go through with his plan no matter what, and when all goes to hell and we come out on top, everyone involved with Zeke will be thrown in the box or hung on the wall.”

I’m aware of what’s at stake. The last thing I want is for anyone to die. But something is telling me that the possibility of execution doesn’t scare them, not if they’re willing to go this far, at least not Ymir anyway.

I shrug and shake my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You only have to focus on Ymir. She’ll listen to you a lot more than she’ll listen to me. Krista will take Ymir’s side, and I’m sure Armin will see reason if it comes from me.”

My eyes narrow at her. “How can you be so sure?”

“I have to be,” she says simply.

“What about Eren?” I ask her.

“What about him?”

“Do you still love him?”

She huffs and closes her eyes for a moment before composing herself once more. “I’ll always love him. But just because you love someone doesn’t mean you need to be with them. Sometimes it’s better to cut the cord for your own sake.”

“I guess…”

“You’d do well to remember that. My uncle, he’s—“

She cuts herself off when the door cracks open, squeaking loudly throughout the hall. She pulls me away by my coat sleeve, just in time for Levi to walk through. “What’s going on?” He asks suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” I rush out. “I was just apologizing to her for last night.”

“Hmm, were you, now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I have something for you,” Hange inserts herself into the conversation before Levi can get another word in. “Your glasses are ready.” She pulls a small leather pouch out of the breast pocket of her uniform and hands it to me. “Well, go on, don’t just stare. Try them on.”

I fumble a bit with the pouch string before I eventually manage to open it. Inside is a pair of thinly framed round glasses. They’re not completely circular, but almost. I pull them out of the pouch and examine them briefly before putting them on.

Hange watches me with anticipation. “I knew that shape would look good on you! What do you think?”

“Holy shit,” is all I can say. The moment I situate the lenses on my face, everything around me becomes crystal clear. The vibrancy of every color increases tenfold. I look around at the walls of the hallway and the old wood floors. I can make out every crack in the paint, every line in the wood, and every other imperfection. It’s like looking through the lens of a camera.

I then raise my head to look at everyone’s faces. My eyes widen as I examine each one. Each line, wrinkle, and blemish is made more evident by the lenses.

I glance over at Levi last and take him in. I can see the blue veins that peer through his skin. The depth and detail of his scars is almost frightening. The white prosthesis in his eye is uncanny, emotionless, and unmoving. His remaining eye, however, is the lightest, most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen.

“How is it?” He asks

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “It’s weird.”

“You’ll get used to it. Don’t worry,” Hange reassures me. “Hey… Levi, you can call her four-eyes now instead of giving me shit all the time,” she jokes lightheartedly.

I look over at Levi to find him amused. A smug smirk crosses his lips as if he’s seriously contemplating Hange’s suggestion. When she’s finished giggling, I give him a mean glare. “If you ever call me that, I’ll gouge out your other eye and call you no eyes. I mean it.”

Everyone gathered around us lets out a chuckle, brushing off my threat as another joke. I, however, don’t find it funny. Perhaps I wouldn’t go to the extreme of cutting out his other eye, but I’d slap him at the very least.

“Noted,” he relents before putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’re going to head back,” he tells the rest of them, guiding me back in the direction of his quarters.

“Oh, are you sure?” Erwin questions.

“Yeah, we haven’t eaten yet.”

Hange gives a little wave goodbye. “Alright, then. See you.”

Levi waves in return. “See you.”

Without looking back, we set off on our way back to Levi’s quarters the exact same way that we came.

The walk this time is much more interesting with the addition of my glasses. I can’t keep my eyes forward. It seems that with every step we take, I notice something that I didn’t notice before. “What do you keep looking at?” He asks me, puzzled.

“Everything looks so strange now. It’s weird.”

“Must be nice.”

As we continue to walk, I begin to wonder what it’s like to be half blind. It definitely sucks, but he seems to have acclimated pretty well. He moves around as if he has perfect vision. Sometimes I almost forget.

“What was it like when you lost your eye?”

He doesn’t look at me. He just continues walking like I didn’t just ask an invasive question. “It was pretty awful. It hurt like a bitch,” he says casually. “I had to relearn how to do basically everything.”

“That sounds like shit.”

“It was.”

He fumbles around in his pocket for his keys once we reach the door, unlocking it and immediately ripping his uniform jacket off his body the second we get in the room. “I’ll have your clothes washed with this before you leave today.”

“Okay,” I respond plainly, taking off my own jacket and discarding it on the couch with the pile of dirty clothes.

He notices immediately and looks at me sharply. “How about you hang that on the hook by the door like an adult?”

“How about you keep the promise that you made this morning?” I counter sassily.

His eyebrows raise in understanding. “Oh, I get it. That’s why you’re acting like this.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Like what?”

“Like a spoiled brat.”

“No, I’m fucking not!”

He huffs out a laugh and saunters his way over to me. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you. If you still want that?”

I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He gives me a short kiss on the lips and runs his hands down my shoulders. “Take off your clothes, then.”

I hurriedly do as he says, frantically taking my clothes and shoes off until I’m left bare, discarding the clothes similarly to how I did with the jacket. He doesn’t berate me about it this time. Instead, he too strips off his clothes and throws them in the same manner, leaving them all in a careless pile to be dealt with later.

He races back to me, pressing his body against my own, feeling me up and groping me like he’s touching a woman for the first time. I can feel his erection growing rapidly in his underwear.

He urges me towards the bedroom, pushing me backwards until we reach the foot of the bed. “Sit down,” he instructs softly.

I obey, sitting down on the edge, and just like always, he looks down at me like a man possessed, hungry and ready to devour. His usually grey iris burns like black coal as he takes in my equally lustful expression.

He reaches his hands toward my face and slips my glasses off, neatly folding them and setting them gently on the side table.

This difference is jarring. The fine details of his face that I was able to make out with the glasses are now shrouded. Blurred along with the rest of his face.

I blink a few times to let my eyes adjust, but his next move surprises me. His muscles ripple and flex as he slowly kneels on the floor before me. I look at him with furrowed brows as my eyes dart over his breathtaking form. I glance over the solid muscles of his chest, to the curve of his ass, to the way his mouth falls slightly agape, and to his hands, pale and strong. He reaches forward to capture my calves, running his hands up and down my skin.

“What are you doing?” I ask him in a whisper.

No response.

Every muscle in my body tenses at his movements. His cold hands against my skin only cause me to seize up even more.

His touch is feather-light as he smooths over my skin; up and down my calves and thighs he gropes and touches, and when he pushes my thighs open, I let him.

“I’m apologizing,” he finally answers. “For everything. I keep upsetting you. Can’t have that.”

My breath hitches as I mull over his words. I wonder if he actually means that. Does it even matter one way or another? Maybe he really does feel bad, or maybe he just thinks that this will make me listen to him more.

He raises himself up on his knees, and I watch him as he presses open-mouth kisses on my inner thighs. His eyelids flutter shut, and his wandering hands continue to roam their way along the flesh of my hips.

Then, to my abject surprise, I feel the press of his hard dick against my leg as he begins rolling his hips desperately, humping me wildly as if he were a dog.

This startles me. It’s enough to make me attempt to pull my leg away, but his firm grip never falters and his quiet moans grow louder.

“Levi,” I call out to him.

He doesn’t respond, just a low, airy grunt from the pit of his chest.

I contemplate letting him continue to reach his end, but his behavior is bizarre, completely unlike him. It’s unnerving.

I attempt to pull away a second time, but like previously, my leg doesn’t budge. I can feel him growing harder and wetter by the second, his erection straining rigidly in his underwear, leaking precum that soaks through the fabric of his underwear. Out of desperation, I begin kicking at him with my free leg, only gently, just enough to get his attention. A few strikes to the side of his torso are enough to get him to pause. He looks up at me with an eye full of desire, his cheeks pink, lips wet, and his cock hard and ready.

I look down at him bewildered. Is this what I looked like this morning? Is this what he sees when I’m beneath him? A face so pitiful and desperate, seeking out pleasure desperately and without shame?

But how could I feel embarrassed when he looks at me like this?

He, abruptly and without warning, pushes my legs further apart and descends his perfect mouth on my naked cunt.

My body jolts as though I’ve been struck by lightning. He circles his warm, cushiony tongue around my clit cravingly as he continues to rut his hips into the mattress. He eats me like a beast or a man half-starved, repugnant and loud, profanely burying his face into my core. He grips at my thighs roughly as if something is going to take me away.

I’m unable to move at first, completely succumbing to the rush of pleasure. “Holy shit,” I moan breathlessly, instinctively bucking my hips up against my lover’s angelic face.

I dig my fingers into his silky hair and pull him in closer, equally as desperate and needing more of his sinful attention. “Fuck, yes! Fuck,” I choke out tearfully, mindlessly grinding my cunt into his willing mouth. I curl one leg to my chest and carelessly throw the other over his shoulder, digging my heel into his solid back in an attempt to trap him in place.

My thoughts become increasingly more irate and absurd the longer he continues.

If he wants to apologize this way, I’ll let him. He can be repentant, and I’ll gladly accept his atonement. He can hurt me and beg for forgiveness endlessly if it feels this good.

He pulls away from my pulsing clit with a wet pop, his lips and chin sheen with my arousal in the dim sunlight.

I whine in frustration at his pause. However, he’s quick to silence me. “Do you still want me to fuck you?” He asks in a daze, breathing heavily against my throbbing pussy.

I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please. Please fuck me! I fucking need it,” I cry out hysterically, direly needing to feel that precious pull.

Without needing to hear another word, he rises, pulls down his boxer briefs, and hurriedly moves his body over mine, viciously attacking my mouth with his. Our tongues entwine, soft muscles each sliding against the other, dancing around each other with fervor. I mindlessly open my legs in preparation to take his salacious offering. But just when I screw my eyes shut and take a deep breath in, he flips himself on his back and manhandles me atop him.

I clutch his shoulders and look down at him, baffled. “Take it for yourself,” is all he says, firm and commanding as if he’s still the one in control.

But he is still the one in control. He just wants to pretend that he isn’t. If the illusion is what he craves, then he can have it.

I grip his thick cock by the base, stroke him a few times, and hesitantly lower myself onto him, shutting my eyes and hissing at the sharp stretch. A feeling I’ll never get used to.

He groans deeply once I bottom out, gripping my hips strongly and digging his fingers into the flesh. He looks at me thirstily as I give an experimental rock of my hips. It feels strange and intense, so I pause and let out a quiet huff.

“Keep going,” he encourages. “Just like that.”

I hesitantly continue to move my hips back and forth, slowly to begin with, stabilizing myself on his torso with my hands. He slides his hands up from my hips to my waist, then my chest, fondling me eagerly as he watches me move.

It feels good, but not good enough. I contemplate stopping altogether, but he quickly notices my apprehension. “Faster, baby,” he orders me impatiently.

I bite my cheek in frustration and shake my head. “But—“

I’m cut off with a rough, upward thrust of his hips that sends an arousing shiver down my spine. I yelp in surprise, and he grips my hips firmly once again. “Make yourself cum on my cock, or you don’t cum at all. Your choice.”

This doesn’t feel like much of an apology anymore, but I keep my mouth shut.

Frustrated, I begin moving again, but faster this time, like he asked, attempting to draw enough pleasure to give me the high that I need. The pleasure builds slowly, but it doesn’t feel the same. “I fucking can’t!” I yell at him furiously, gasping to catch my breath.

“Yes, you can. You’re overthinking it. Let go, and take what you want.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath in, and ride him, fiercely and impatiently, letting myself go and giving in to the acrimony. The anger, frustration, and desire that continue to linger in my tissues, an incurable parasite. Just when I think I’ve rid myself of it all for good, the itch comes back, sometimes tenfold, driving me further and further over the edge.

I open my eyes and look down at him, his jaw agape, with tears in his eye, moaning unabashedly beneath me as I use him.

“That’s it, Angel. I wanna feel you. Riding my cock so good,” he mumbles, chest rising and falling with every breath.

It feels magnificent, taking his thick cock down to the root, witnessing a man so powerful reduced down to something so pitiful. Even if only for a moment, I’m faced with the real him. I can see that he’s terrified, terrified of losing me and losing himself.

In the low light coming from the open window, his pale, milky skin appears almost translucent. He shines with a layer of sweat I can feel dampening my hands as I dig my nails into his hard chest.

“I love you,” I moan coarsely, lustful and out of breath. “I love you so much. Why do I love you? You make me so fucking angry all the fucking time.”

He only huffs out a laugh, cradling my hips and helping along with my movements, indulgently thrusting up into my cunt with every gyration.

I feel a great shudder through my muscles then. The faint chiming of bells throughout my body grows louder and louder. A sound so beautiful it could drive me mad. I grin lazily as I surrender to the pull, relentlessly chasing my orgasm atop him.

My vileness doesn’t subside; it only worsens the closer I get. I can’t control the emotions that manifest, welling up in my body and spewing past my lips in the form of foul phrases.

“Is this all you’re good for?” I spit out venomously. “Just a pretty face and a fat cock for me to use? You’re fucking pathetic,” I ramble at him, tears flooding my eyes. “Is this why you listen to Erwin so well? I see the way he looks at you. I bet he fucks your pretty ass so good—“

He scowls angrily before lifting himself up into a sitting position, keeping me in his lap and pressing his upper body against mine. “You ever speak of another man in this bed again, and I’ll make your last punishment look like child’s play,” he spits, laying an excruciating slap on my ass, causing me to scream, silencing my disgusting insults. “You’re so fucking adorable when you try to be mean,” he growls in my ear. “If you think I’m pathetic, you’d better look closer in the fucking mirror—“

I cut off his insult with a harsh slap to the face.

However, he only moans louder at my assault, a rough, broken sound. His thrusting also becomes rougher and more desperate in turn. “C’mon, Angel. I know you can do better than that,” he borderline slurs. “Give it to me good, like I know you want to. Split that pretty little pussy open on my cock and fuck me. C’mon, baby.”

The bell’s chiming is deafening now, and the pull is almost painful as I feel my release climbing. I impulsively let out a loud, wrathful yell and sink my teeth into the thick meat of his shoulder.

He lets out a shout and then a whimper, his cock twitching inside me with sick satisfaction.

I moan inhumanly and dig my teeth in deeper, as hard as I can, puncturing the layers of his skin as his syrupy blood pours into my mouth. It’s so pure, so sweet, like honey, sweeter than the strawberries, sweeter than anything. It rushes to my head like a drug. My eyes roll back, and I finally let go.

“Yessss, fuck,” he hisses out carnally, shuddering beneath me, shooting his cum deep within me as I twitch and convulse in his arms.

I unhinge my jaw from his flesh and lean back, letting the remaining amounts of blood on my tongue drip down my throat before looking him in the eye.

He looks back at me hypnotized and satisfied, holding my face in his hands as I ride out my bliss. “You’re so pretty like this, when I’m all over your mouth.”

I smile another lazy grin, flashing him my blood-stained teeth as he lays me down gently on the bed. I watch him as he lies down beside me, coming down from his own high. “Shit… I’m sorry,” I tell him as I come back to myself and see the state of his shoulder.

A bite mark in the mold of my teeth decorates the slope of his shoulder, blood still pooling up in the deepest parts of the wound, dripping onto the bedsheets below. He’s going to regret this when he has to wash out the stain.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “Never thought I’d see you so riled up.”

I hum in agreement. “Me neither.”

He turns on his side to face me, grabbing one of my braids between his fingers and running his thumb up and down the ridges. “Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?”

“No, I’m hungry,” I say, laying my head on his chest and throwing my body over his. “Can we please get something to eat?”

He nods, wrapping his arms around me. And with soft eyes and a gentle tone, he says, “Yeah, Angel. Anything you want.”

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

I totally agree with this, and see how some member are like "it is what it is" and lowkey using him being American (and the queer community being a political thing in mainly America because bullshit and the orange) as an excuse

And I know, with their younger audience, they don't want to make any waves on the ocean especially cause the Iskall situation is so raw and recent for people

And without being said it makes it exponentially funnier the way that people subtly are saying that it's fucked up he did that, even if they don't realise

Like Jimmy. OMG Jimmy recently, he's goated, to die for because THE DAY AFTER someone asked Jimmy in his chat to say trans rights, with 0 hesitation and has actively pursued learning more about the LGBTQIA+ community to the point were it's almost out of spite

Smajor mentioned that he's hesitant to let certain people back into MCC especially pride MCC right after the situation but said it so subtly and so sly that people thought he was talking about people who already won pride Mcc but he was actually talking about skizz

Aimsey DECADED A WHOLE STREAMS worth of content to talking about how this kind of language and behaviour is putting the mcyt community and lgbtqia+ community it more of a negative standing and really goes into detail, without directly naming Skizz but they do say "in recent events" and it was like 1-2 days after Skizz's thing so they were definitely talking about Skizz. But honestly they tore Skizz to shreds in the most impactful and realistic way possible

Zombiecleo who was initially on the fence about the situation has already stated that they were disappointed and it's not grounds to break her friendship or kick someone out who's just started for time content creation and make it more challenging for them but they are evidently disappointed

Gem also expressed her disappointment, not as much as the other, but it was their.

Scar didn't really understand but got the spirit

And Impluse was also disappointed in Skizz

But it really coming to ahead now because and I cannot stress this enough how much it hurts me to say this, but Iskall was 10% right in his statement/stance that the Hermits will protect "one of their own" until their not one of them.

And even more so regretfully, and disappointingly Grian and Impluse both are doing this. They're completely ignoring the situation and really Grian is the only one out of the 2 who has a real excuse, which is he doesn't use social media other than YouTube really so and since ( demographically) alot of his audience are much much younger, more so leaning into children and young teen than the others, it won't make sense to randomly post a fuxk you to Skizz because children are watching.

And that's why he has a second channel decaded to "scary" content with warnings and disclaimer and mainly includes jokes and funny bits. He's never once been serious.

But impluse on the other hand has a more mature audience, more an older teen audience, and he's active on every social media, and he streams. He literally does not have an excuse to not at least address it.

And I'm not going to sit here and blame the Hermits for Skizz's mistakes because it is Skizz's fault but he's a grownass man, and used to be a teacher then switched jobs and now is a full time content creator. He as children. So him, out of everyone, should know how dangerous it is go have this mentality and promote it and yet he still does.

And once called out on it, he hides. Deletes the clip, cuts it out the VOD, puts a brief comment on a video on his worst preforming (not being rude it's just true) social media outlet then act like it doesn't happen

And tbh I've stopped watching Grian's second channel videos because of it, I've stopped watching hermitcraft video and may only watch like 3 POVs and/or smaller clips in the future. I'll watch the life series but the main POVs I watch aren't even in hermitcraft

And it's not like we're the only ones cutting them off because people like aspenfires and Aimsey have all expressed their massive disappointment with them

So for me, I'll be sticking to Misadventures and The Realm (only watching the blue faction and lowkey just Aimsey, Tubbo and Smajor tbh)

To be honest, as someone who has considered mcyt to be their main fandom/interest for the better part of 5 years, The whole Skizzleman situation has really pushed me towards dropping the fandom as a whole.

It just really sucks to see a community that claims to pride itself on its inclusivity brush over clear bigotry from one of its members, It’s not that I think Skizz IS transphobic, he’s clearly not, but his reaction towards the subject of trans rights was blatantly transphobic, and him trying to cover it up with “avoiding politics” is blatantly not an acceptable excuse.

It sucks to see a man consider my rights as a human being to be “too controversial” and it sucks even more so to see people try and defend him for it, it feels kind of impossible to feel welcomed by a community that would turn on me and my right to exist the minute their “comfort creator” told them to.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever engage in mcyt content again, I definitely won’t continue to keep up with hermitcraft anymore, I might watch the new life series when it comes around but I’ll likely just stick to watching one or two povs instead of trying to watch all of them at once like I usually do, I definitely won’t be watching another skizzleman video, unless he properly apologizes ON STREAM, and takes a hard stance on trans rights instead of the “non political” one he holds right now.

[ddeck]

cause of death: thought about commander cody a bit too hard