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thesunshinebunny · 4 years ago

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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part II)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Coming home is melancholy and cold, and your squadmates ask you to do what you couldn't do for a year: speak up and find out what's going on inside Eren's mind.

Words count: 5.3k

They say that when a loved one leaves this world, the days follow turns gray, colorless; How ironic to think that the day we buried Sasha was gray, there wasn’t a trace of the blue sky or some solar ray that could give us the warmth we were lacking. It was cold, a cold that got into your bones and no matter how many hugs and words of mutual support we gave each other, we couldn’t get the warmth we needed.

My soul had been fragmented the moment Sasha left this world, but seeing my friends cry at her grave and leave bouquets of flowers, it fragmented even more. I wasn’t able to meet Nicolo's eyes, my guilt prevented me. Inside, I wanted this Marleyan to yell at me, to tell me that he hated my presence, that Sasha's death had been my fault, and that I should have given my life if it meant saving her. I wanted with all my being that he would give me a reason to really feel guilty.

On the way back to the island, the others assured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I did everything possible to keep her alive. But my ineptitude, my grief, my low self-esteem prevented me from seeing things clearly. I just needed… something to hold onto.

And I wasn't getting anything.

I felt how I was slowly sinking into the rabbit hole, without the possibility of clinging to a tree root. I was falling, falling, falling, unable to know when I would hit bottom. But that bottom came fast before I could have predicted, because minutes after Nicolo arrived, Sasha's father arrived too, bouquet of beautiful red flowers in hand.

I broke myself. The two people who longed for Sasha most in their lives were standing in front of me, mourning the loss of her young soul. The two people who would hate me the most in the world, standing over my friends's grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and in front of her grave, silently begging for forgiveness.

My tears fell incessantly on the freshly stirred earth as did my fingers, imploring this burden on my chest to dissipate, as if unconsciously I was wishing for Sasha herself to forgive me for letting her die. How could one cope with this heinous feeling? How could I go on, knowing that the world was falling around us, unable to know if the next day we were going to be alive or if Marley would initiate an attack from which we weren’t going to be able to defend ourselves?

My head was racing a thousand per second and the only thing I could let out were those sobs that had accompanied me so much on the way back, the same ones that cradled me to slept, and the tears that so much wanted to dissipate the pain in my soul.

It is said that when a person leaves this world, some people are unable to handle grief, just as they are unable to articulate a word. Apparently I was one of those people.

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Nights and days passed. Those of us who survived the attack on Marley stayed in commune trying to encourage ourselves to continue fighting. Hange had recommended us to rest, since the psychological damage could cause us several injuries in the future, and as for Eren ... we weren’t very aware of him. The last we heard from our commanders is that he was locked away from all human contact, stipulating that it would be better to keep him locked up for a while and let whatever shit that was going through his head dissipate.

But that was complete bullshit. I knew that, even locking him up, they weren't going to be able to change the thoughts that tormented Eren so much. I knew that, whatever was wandering through his mind, he wasn’t letting him alone and he would never let go. How did I know that? Because I spent a whole year trying to get him to let me enter in that shell he has been forming in recent years. I tried very hard to get him to tell me his plan before he went to Marley, but I got nothing, and I still get nothing.

My gaze was lost in the window. The nights grew colder and colder and I hugged my arms as I watched the sunset. The boys were arguing about something, something that Mikasa didn't seem to find funny at all, but my mind wasn’t connected to reality. I just stared out the window, remembering the old days when we'd sneak out to steal a piece of meat from the supply warehouse with Sasha and Connie.

I remembered the nights when the boys sneaked into the women's hut to keep each other warm in our days as recruits. I remembered how Armin let me practice my medicine methods on him when he got hurt, a practice that was lost when he inherited the power of the Colossal Titan.

I remembered how we would escape at dawn, grab a few horses and ride out to the ocean, taking nice cool baths on the warm moonlit summer nights. Now those moments only remained in that, in memories.

"(Y/N) are you listening?"

My gaze detached from the window, now it was fixed on a Connie who looked just as tired of the world as I did. This dwarf turned giant was just as devastated as I was by losing half of him, and yet he was still able to continue fighting alongside our friends.

"We think you might be the most suitable to go talk to Eren"

Armin's calm voice stripped me of any desire to go back to the old moments. I pulled myself away from the window tiredly and let my body unconsciously guide me to one of the couchs in the middle of the room, next to the blonde. Apparently while I was wandering in my thoughts, the tension in the room had reached a point where it could be cut with a simple wave of the hand.

As I sat down, I was able to take a better look at the room. From what I could analyze, the group had divided into two, those who still trusted Eren and those who did not, each with their reasons, and apparently, I was playing the role of mediator. The responsibility fell on me to move the pieces of the board: to talk to our supposed war partner and beg him to tell us about his plans and the demons in his head, or to dethrone him completely.

"What makes you think I can go talk to him?"

My words came out of my mouth colder and sharper than I would’ve liked, but it was the simple truth. If Eren was willing to push each other away to accomplish his task, what was I going to accomplish after a year without having answers to his thoughts?

"I haven't been able to speak to him openly in a year"

Armin and Mikasa gave me completely stunned looks. Not even their childhood friend had told them that his relationship was falling off a cliff.

"I didn't know, I thought you were fine"

"Well, we are not fine at all Armin"

I knew it wasn't fair for Armin to get all my frustration, he wasn't guilty at all. I looked him in the eye and I could find multiple feelings in those huge blue eyes: sadness, compassion, guilt, overwhelm. I knew he was one of the worst going through it, his childhood friend was no longer entirely reliable; he had carried out acts of sheer violence and had become the enemy he hated the most; Armin had become his worst enemy and his eyes clearly showed it.

And it was those same eyes that begged me to do something, to go and talk, to try to figure out the smallest thing we could use to get out of this mess Eren got us into. They implored me to save his soul brother from his mental prison.

I let out a long breath before getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

"I highly doubt that I will achieve anything, but I will try to talk to him"

I took one last look to the guys in front of me before leaving the room, each one wishing me luck and pleading for my well-being with their eyes, and sinking even further into the rabbit hole, or rather, going straight to ventured into the lion's den.

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The road to the dungeons was long and heavy, but not because of the number of blocks and alleys I had to take, but because of what was waiting for me at the end of the road. Upon coming into contact with the stone walls and their semi-armored doors, the blood on my body ran cold, just as it ran cold when we buried Sasha.

The air below the ground was cold, the smell of mold and dirt entered my nostrils, preventing me from taking a couple of steps without feeling like vomiting. The place really needed a better cleaning, otherwise it would be the epicenter of a huge plague.

At the end of the corridor, where the light was dimmer and let the darkness eat much of the cell, was Eren. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on his supposed bed, staring directly at the wall, or so it seemed; knowing him he was surely lost in his world. I kept my composure, avoiding giving any trace of my emotional and psychological state.

"Hi"

I got no response, as always.

I had the opportunity to inspect his cell, it was quite untidy and dripping with water, coming from the sink which was covered to the top. Unconsciously I prayed that this water was drinkable or at least that it was not too polluted, since I didn’t have to look completely at the brunette in front of me to know he had put his head in that same water.

"I like your hair, looks very smooth"

"What do you want?"

His voice came out calm but imposing and terrifying at the same time, I would be lying if I said I didn’t startle a bit, but I kept my composure as best as possible to avoid showing the fear in my eyes. Eren may not have noticed, but if he did, he was unfazed.

"The guys think that I can talk to you, but I told them they were completely wrong, I mean...we haven't been able to speak like we used to for a year, maybe more"

My words came out of my mouth like the venom of a snake. I couldn't tell if my intention was to make him feel guilty, or at least feel something, to reflect on my words, but guess what… his eyes didn't even leave the wall behind me.

I crossed my arms and rested my body on one of the bars, hoping to have some intimidating way for the damn bastard to decide to speak. Even though bullying wasn't my thing, I, yes, had a tired face and wasn't there to waste my time, but I had to achieve something, get something, whatever, so I could get out of this damn place.

"You know very well that I'm not going to leave until you say something"

His eyes met mine for a few seconds and then returned to their original position. I knew this was going to be difficult, but I couldn't help my irritation growing from my chest. With every minute that passed, the pain in that area was increasing and a lump in the throat was appearing with each tear that I wanted to avoid shedding.

I'd been through shitty days and had to come alone to the exact place I least wanted to be to talk to the person I least wanted to see.

"I'm used to being on my feet for long hours, I can be here all day, and that's exactly what I'm going to do"

I remained planted in front of the cell, positioning myself with crossed arms right in front of his eyes, preventing them from continuing to look at the miserable wall.

But my bad luck wasn't giving me any sign that I was going to win this fight very soon. Although I was covering his peripheral field, his eyes never deigned to look at me, they simply stayed glued to the front, now seeing my body in front, although in reality, he was seeing without seeing.

My patience was running out and this goddamn silent game had only just begun. I had to find something to work with, something that could flicker him or make him angry… anger would not be the best if I wanted to leave with all the bones intact and my already psychological trauma without further damage; but knowing Eren, anger was his fuel, which made him move and in an action-reaction effect, made everyone move together behind him.

That's it. Everyone. But we weren't all here.

Sasha was dead; Reiner, Berthold and Annie traitors and enemies of Paradis; Ymir disappeared and confirmed dead, being inherited by the new jaw titan; the only one missing from our group was our beloved Queen. The Queen that Eren so decided to care for and protect.

"You know, Historia is about to give birth"

It was mild, but I could feel his body tense. His eyes moved just the same slightly, but in those little acts I knew I had struck a chord. And I was willing to use it, even if it meant destroying my sanity and causing one of Eren's greatest worldly anger.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little baby on the squad?" I took a deep breath before launching the second impact of the night, preparing to receive whatever blow came next. "After all, it's your child, right?"

His body moved faster than I could ever achieve and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to pull away in time. His hand grabbed my shirt, drawing me towards the bars and hitting my cheeks on each one, now my face was directly in front of him, my field of vision being just his face and finally, his eyes were focused on mine.

"Don't even think about talking about Historia like that"

If looks could kill, surely I would already be dead on the ground. His grip on my chest was strong, he was even capable of ripping the fabric, but with a push back showed me that it wasn’t strong enough, that everything was a facade. I staggered, almost fell to the ground, but either way, I kept my balance and my expression. I was terrified inside, but I forced myself to keep a stoic look at all time, he was trying to play with me and although I was not entirely sure how much there were just words and how much were an act of anger and violence, I couldn’t dedicate myself to having a hint of doubt.

"Easy, Romeo, I know you're not the daddy...or are you?"

I adjusted my clothes, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I stared into his eyes, I would get a much worse look than the one he gave me a few seconds ago.

"Whatever, you gave me something to work with, Historia knows something and didn't tell us...gee, I wonder why"

I leaned my body against the cold stone. My gaze went everywhere, trying to keep avoiding his eyes and incidentally have a stronger support for my figure.

"The Queen doesn’t have to say anything to anyone"

Ohhh, you little shit.

If that's the game you want to play, then you're going to lose.

Even if his words were absolutely right, we shouldn’t forget that, before she was queen, Historia had been our friend during training and the entire year of accumulated trauma between betrayals and deaths. If we could continue to have conversations with her and were invited to participate in political meetings, then we had every right to be informed of the supposed plan that Eren implanted in our queen's mind.

For a moment I was scared by the physical and emotional state of Historia. Was Eren capable of keeping her threatened? Did he say or do anything to keep her quiet? The questions seemed to have no head or tail, but if Eren was able to grab me the way he did, I can't imagine what he could do to keep someone quiet.

"Yes, you are right, in the same way, trust only the queen before your friends... that’s brave"

I searched the corridor and the cell for something I could use to attract his attention again, if it was necessary for me to use violence against him, I would be willing to do it. My eyes met a chain anchored to the wall, quite a long chain, to tell the truth. And on the other side, reaching almost the middle of the corridor, I could make out a rather dirty cloth.

I glanced at Eren who had sat back down on his bed, head down in his hands, and walked down the hall with one goal in mind. I grabbed the cloth and walked back to the cell, standing in front of the bars. I reached out my hand to the sink and started to clean up what was left of the spilled water.

"It's all soaked, incredible that they keep a cell like this"

Without taking my eyes off the sink, I could hear Eren settling on his bed, perhaps sitting upright. I kept running the dirty cloth over the water, honestly I wasn’t achieving much apart from spreading the now dirty water even more, but I had to continue with the facade of an understandable couple.

"It's a complete mess...were Historia's legs like this when you railed her?"

As before, Eren had quickly stood up, ready to grab my hand that was inside the cell, but I was already better prepared. When I felt his fingers touch my wrist, I turned my hand to anchor it on his arm and draw him towards the bars, having that same arm outside the cell. With half body on the cold metal, my other hand grabbed the missing arm and with all my strength I pulled his limbs towards me, causing his body and head to crash against the bars.

"Do you want to do it the hard way? fine, we'll do it the hard way"

Eren tried to shake off my grip, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins prevented him from loosening even a millimeter. I pushed him and pulled him back to me, stretching his arms even further and hitting his head on the metal.

"What's wrong with you?"

Again, a back and forth motion.

"What is going on in your head?"

Back and forth.

"How much shit can you have in your mind that you are not able to tell your friends?"

Back and forth.

"TELL ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!"

With one last impact, I hit Eren's head and heard the fibers and tendons in his shoulders rip, just as his skin began to stretch and break, revealing the flesh and muscle beneath it. Rivers of blood flowed over his arms, dropping to the floor and turning his skin red.

His head was also bleeding to the side, soaking his torso and rebel hair. A pool of blood formed under our feet. I let go of his arms and then grabbed the chain that was on the wall and chained him. Considering the number of times he hab been chained since his fifteen years, I suppose one more time wouldn't do any harm to his already traumatized mind.

When I saw his hands were secure I dropped to the floor, not caring about the blood that now adorned the cold stone floor. I could feel my ass starting to get soggy and sticky from the substance. I would have to burn this pants when I got out of there.

Both my mind and my breath hitched, enveloping the environment. I tried to calm down and clear my mind to continue this hell of interrogation. I knew I shouldn't have agreed, and now look at what situation I was in.

"You know I can transform and use the power of the warhammer titan to get out of here"

Eren seemed withdrawn from his situation, as if bleeding to death didn't matter in the least. Steam came out of his shoulders, a sign that he was in the process of regeneration and prayed that this process would take a long time to materialize.

“I know…” I tried to calm my voice and breath before speaking again “but if you transform now, you would end up killing me, and killing me means betraying the legion, and betraying them means betraying the people of Paradis… you don 't want that, do you? "

My words may sound sly, but inside I was wanting to run out of there, get under the covers of my bed and sleep until the day of doomsday; I was even wishing to die in that sleep.

"I'm going to stay here until I know once and for all what's going on in your head, because I know that whatever shit is in there… it's killing you."

Now we were both looking into each other's eyes, fighting a battle in silence, seeing who would give up first. We held eye contact for a few long minutes, unable to tell how many. Maybe it was a couple, maybe half an hour or even an hour; whatever the time, I was already getting bored.

"If I had known it would take so long, I would have brought something to read"

"What has you so worried that you can't even tell Hange or the heichou?"

My question came reluctantly out of my mouth, as if my ability to fight was fading. I was already very tired and it seemed like days since I entered the dungeons.

"Noone would be able to understand"

"Oh please! Don't take me for a fool. Do you think that none of them are battling their own inner demons? Do you think that only you can have intrusive thoughts to fight against?"

His comment irritated me to the core. I never found Eren such a selfish person, and to think that a year or so ago he was declaring his unconditional affection to all of his comrades.

What happened in the last year? What changed?

"Each one of them has to face their own internal wars every day"

Before my anger got the best of me, I took a few small breaths, calming myself. I wasn't going to put me on the same level of hatred and misunderstanding as him, even if it meant throwing away all the years we were together.

"Historia surely has to fight against the stress and the multiple responsibilities that being a queen entails, apart from fighting against the offensive comments of the military police"

Maybe the island has been rid of Titans for a long time, but that didn’t take away the fact that shitty people, like those who lived on the Wall Sina, decided to try and continue controlling the poor people who were split the loin so those ungrateful would have a feast every night.

"Connie is struggling every day against losing his other half, his twin"

Connie, Jean, everyone ... EVERYONE! We were fighting and suffering the mourning of Sasha, of our teammates.

"Shit, surely Jean is still struggling with the memory of Marco after so many years"

Yes. No one had forgotten Marco, especially Jean. But we had to learn to keep going on that very day, we couldn't afford to get sentimental and spoil the next missions. From that day on we learned to watch over our dead mates in silence.

"I fight every day against my incompetence"

And now was the time that I could begin to veil my demons once and for all.

Already my body was begging to rest. I had laid my head on the wall and fixed my gaze on the ceiling. I heard the chains move at my side, a sign that Eren was moving, but I didn't have the strength to look him in the face.

"I fight every day against the image of Sasha dying in my hands"

I know that memory is going to haunt me until the day I die.

"I fight every day against the memories of our comrades dying in battle"

I saw countless deaths throughout the year 850, so many that I decided to use my knowledge in medicine to help even to stop a bleeding. I still remember the first suture I made to a mate already lost in battle ... I was so excited, so happy to be of such help.

"I fight every day against the idea of not being enough"

But that exaltation led to thousands of failures. People who had bled internally, who had lost an arm and couldn’t get to cauterize, hundreds who had lost half their stomach or head.

"I fight every day against our enemies on the other side of the sea"

I wasn't going to deny it, learning the pure and exclusive truth of the world, I couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for the Marleyans. I wanted them to pay for the countless deaths and suffering they had caused, I wanted to see them burn, but at the same time I wanted a reasonable explanation.

"I fight the memories of the titans devouring our friends"

Memories of the first day in battle, right at our graduation, when we thought that nothing could happen. How naive we were. And to think that that was just the beginning of a long list of events that would bring us to this moment.

"I fight every day along side with the memories of the team escaping from the base and messing it up to enjoy the summer nights"

Memories of when we would sneak into the palace and take Historia with us, enjoying the air in our faces and running in the valleys of the countryside. Memories of when we ran cows for some strange reason at the beginning of the day.

Memories of when we were racing with the 3D movement gear through the great forests outside the city. Memories of the occasional punch in the face against the bark of a tree for not knowing where we were going.

"I fight every day against the image of the big bright turquoise eyes that I fell in love with"

My gaze fell on those same eyes, but instead of finding the description that I wanted to see so much, I only found grayish green eyes, eyes that had lost all their brilliance.

I found eyes full of tiredness and anger for the world. The brilliance that so characterized Eren had been lost; now I would have to settle for a blank stare.

"I fight every day ... against the memory of our return to the rooms and Levi punishing us for weeks"

My voice was breaking as I remembered the nights when only Eren and I would sneak out to spend quality time alone. Those nights where we would lie down to see the stars or to lose ourselves in each other in some meadow.

I look at my hands, they were shaking. I couldn't help but remember the first night we spent together, back then I was shaking too, but Eren's hands on my cheeks dispelled any doubt or fear that I could ever have. I unconsciously smiled at the fond memory and I think Eren did too, as I heard a little laugh coming from him.

But no matter how much smiles and laughter the memories gave me, I had to go on and face the world that was now in front of me.

"I fight every day ... against the idea of running towards you, towards your arms"

Those arms that one day gave me warmth. Those arms that one day hugged and covered me the moment I found out that a mate had died. Those strong arms that I knew were going to protect me from any harm.

"I fight against the hope that this is all a nightmare, that you are going to cradle me in your arms and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that it was just a bad dream"

My gaze returned to his, now filled with tears. It hurt, the cruel truth hurt a lot.

"I fight against the desire to stay by your side"

Eren's face was dark, he had returned to how he was at the beginning, without any trace of that soft laugh I heard a few seconds ago.

"I fight with my inner voice that tells me that everything will be fine, that in a few years it will not hurt as much as it does now"

Maybe ... maybe I can start over and when all this nefarious war is over I can find peace, once and for all, and enjoy my friends.

"I fight to move on"

...

"I fight every day...against you"

That was it.

I stood up heavily, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. The blood on the floor was already dry and had left the entire back of my pants stained. I hadn't noticed that the air had been permeated with the iron smell of blood, making my vomiting reflex worse, even though I had avoided it in a good way all this time.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you"

His figure was already fully regenerated and I knew it was a matter of time before he transformed and left this filthy place. Eren might trust what he was doing was the right thing to do, but if he didn’t accept that in the eyes of the world, that in our eyes, his friends, the only family he had left, couldn’t understand his actions, then there wasn’t much to ask from him.

If he wanted to betray us, let him do it.

“Do what you have to do to fulfill your dream, I don't care anymore. But don't expect for me to sit around and wait for you"

"Are you planning to go to the other side of the sea?"

What a stupid and dubious question at the same time. Was I willing to leave my life in Paradis to start over even in the lands of the enemy?

No, not at all. Why I was no traitor.

"No Eren, I am not going to Marley, my family is here...but you are no longer part of it"

Those words hurt, but they needed to be said; that way I could already start to heal.

"Is that all you have to say?"

I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or a sincere question. But yes, it was all I had to say. I couldn't spend another minute in front of someone I didn't even know anymore.

"It's all I can bear"

I took one last look at the prisoner in the cell before turning and continuing down the long corridor of the dungeons.

"Are you leaving so soon? I thought I heard you would stay as long as it takes for me to speak"

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath of the foul smell of the environment. My hand lay on the doorknob and was half open when his words reached my ears. There was no need to shout from a distance, the echo of the stones made it easy for me to hear the smallest whisper of the perpetrator. I opened the door, but not before dedicating my last words.

"Goodbye Jaeger"

And behind me, I closed the door.

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #uuuufff #this was looong #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #angst #eren smut

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

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15x20: Carry On

Warning: Boris is a salty, sad fangirl right now so the first part of this recap might be more bitter, reductive venting than is necessary. Please skip ahead to enjoy Natasha’s far more nuanced and enjoyable second half of the recap.

The Road So Far: Cue Carry On Wayward Son

Then:

Salmondean Winchester, the boy with the demon blood and daddy’s blunt little instrument, finally defeats Chuck and gets a taste of true free will

Now:

*Fun domestic montage*

Sam Dean gets a dog! (Okay, fine, Miracle is super cute, and a complete stand-in for Cas --but that thought just sends me on another anger spiral.)

Dean squeezes the shit out of that dog, and I hurt for that touch-starved man.

Sam goes for a run, so like, I guess his life is the same. (thanks to Dean always protecting him and allowing him some normalcy in life) (I’m bitter, remember?)

Dean Sam makes breakfast! Dean brushes his teeth! Sam is SHIRTLESS one last time!

*Shirtless Sammy Alert*

Dean’s room is INEXPLICABLY messy! I do get what this whole montage is doing, and it’s nice, but I’m pretty sure when Becky said the fans like the domestic stuff, it was supposed to include CAS AND OTHER FAMILY. Basically, overlay the Where’s the Angel? gif all over this sequence for me.

And finally, we find the boys are still hunting. Because freedom is just a length of rope.

Dean finds a case, but first they have to stop and get pie! Yay! Dean loves pie, and women, and fast cars. Grumpy-faced Sam humors his big, dumb brother. Yay!

Dean Sam thinks about Cas and Jack. Dean brushes off the thought with a Wherps, gotta keep moving attitude, and I already WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE. Sam then pies Dean in the face, so we have that.

In suburban America, a mother starts to ready her children for bed. There’s a knock at their door and the father answers it. There’s nobody there, and as he turns around, he’s knifed in the back, his wife looking on in horror.

Skull masked killers enter the home. The mother and children run upstairs. The mother is quickly dispatched, and the kids soon follow.

Agents Singer and Kripke check out the crime scene.

They learn more about the parents: exsanguinated and throat ripped out father, tongue ripped out mother. The children are missing. The cop shows a drawing of the killers. Dean (in a wildly out of character move!) uses his photographic memory to remember a case his fucking father botched back in the day. Dean pulls out the journal (MY GOD THERE’S BEEN NO GROWTH)

For TFW Science (because Cas is the tree):

They determine they’re dealing with a roaming band of vampires.

At night, a couple of vampmimes arrive at a house. Dean beheads one right away. Sam shoots the other with dead man’s blood. Dean removes the mask to reveal a normal looking vampmime. Why the masks?? Dean wants answers, and Dean “I’m not a killer” Winchester threatens the vamp with a quick death or slow death (with a spoon). The vamp spills the kids’ whereabouts.

*Much Anticipated Barn Scene Alert*

(Psych! Don’t get your hopes up, what lies ahead is bullshit.)

The masked vamps are crawling all over the joint, but Dean and Sam Winchester can handle it! This is a milk run! They get the kids free and face the big bads.

Fight! Chop! Slice! The boys are overwhelmed. Sam gets knocked out one last time. Dean’s held down to the ground so OMG GUYS!!! JENNY IS BACK!??!?!!? I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY GOT HER BACK!! (This joke is so old by now and it’s only been 3 days, sigh.) I did not remember her at all (but then I’m a TFW purest and tend to not watch the early seasons ---and I NEVER HAVE TO AGAIN!) (Natasha: coughs and points at our recap list.) (Boris: shit.) Dean remembers though, and talks just long enough for Sam to wake and chop her head off. See ya, Jenny!

More fighting!

Sam takes out another vamp and Dean tussles with the last one ---and is pushed backwards right into the rebar hook in the wall. So that happened. (I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m a ROILING CESSPOOL OF ANGER AND CONFUSION AND BITTER RIGHT NOW.)

Sam kills the vamp. He’s ready to find the kids and leave. “Sam, I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

Dean pulls Sam close. HE’S BEEN IMPALED! Poor little snowman. Dean makes Sam promise not to try to resurrect him. He tells Sam that he’s proud of him and that he’s always looked up to him. That he was scared to be rejected by Sam in that very first episode when he went to get him from college. “I must’ve stood outside your door for hours. Because I didn’t know what you would say. Tell me to get lost or to get dead.” JESUS SHOW JUST LET DEAN LIVE AND BE LOVED. (Boris: In the alt version where Cas is there too, he’s instead telling Cas about watching him outside the Gas ‘n Sip. why do I do this to myself?)

Sam cries, afraid to go through the world alone. Dean tells Sam to always keep fighting, tells him he loves him, and DIES. He dies clutching his chest and the whole season we think we’ve been getting heart and chest imagery as a symbol of love but instead it was just? Foreshadowing? Of getting impaled through the chest cavity and dying?

Dean dies, and Sam is wrecked, and I call up 911 to inform them that I have been ROBBED of one Dean Winchester finally getting to live his life. (This is indeed, a beautifully acted scene. I just...wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing about it.)

Sam burns Dean on a lonely pyre, with nobody else around but the dog.

For Sam Gets a Dog but at What Cost Science:

Sam wakes alone, in mourning. There’s no dialogue - only a Sad!Sam montage of remembering the people he’d lost in the bunker. (Was this script only like 5 pages?) One of Dean’s cell phones rings. It’s a sheriff who’d been referred to Dean by Donna. (DONNA DOESN’T KNOW FML) There’s a case, so Sam takes off. He shuts down the bunker and it goes dark.

We cut to Dean in Heaven. It’s beautiful - a wilderness of mountains. Dean’s greeted by Bobby sitting at the quiet Roadhouse. Bobby tells Dean that he’s free - and Heaven’s free. Jack opened Heaven and tore down the walls before he took off for places unknown. I am GLAD ABOUT THIS. It’s about time for Heaven to be a true reward, but this show took Dean TOO SOON. “It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve.” Bobby drops one last reveal: “Cas helped.”

They drink together. “it’s almost perfect,” Dean says.

“He’ll be along,” is Bobby’s quiet response. (Our hearts rise thinking about Cas.) Time’s different in Heaven, Bobby explains. (Boris: Jeremy Bearimy, baby!) “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” Dean decides to go for a drive. He gets into Baby and drives away to the tune of “Carry on my wayward son.”

Cut to a montage showing Sam raising a child with “Dean” on the coveralls. (To quote a friend of mine: That goes against basic child safety, Sam!) While Dean drives, Sam raises a son.

In Sam’s house, the portraits only show pictures of the original Winchesters: Sam, Dean, Mary, John. Me to set dressers: EXTREME SIDE EYE - way to show Sam’s “full life.” Sam kept the Impala in storage, and possibly sits in it and weeps from time to time, as one does.

Much later, Sam dies in his home of “old age disease,” as someone on Tumblr put it. “It’s okay, you can go now,” baby Dean tells Sam, mirroring Sam’s words to his brother. AAAAAND Sam out. Remember, words can kill, kids!

Dean stops on a beautiful bridge and gets out to survey the world.

Dean smiles and the camera pans out. “Hey, Sammy,” he says. The boys are wearing the same outfits as the first episode because SYMBOLISM. (Boris: Symbolism? Like there was no growth or change or...Boris will stay out of your mentions.) (Natasha: Exactly.) They hug, and I do get emotional, because I’m not the burnt and broken shell of a fan that I may appear to be.

We get a “thank you” from Jared and Jensen on the bridge, and then the camera pans away to show the crew. We send them a giant box of MASKS FOR FUCK’S SAKE. And then we set this episode aside as unfulfilling fan fiction and move on with our lives.

Am I sad to see this show end? Yes, I am! Were there things I liked about this episode? Sure! Were there things I so viscerally disliked that I’m still sleeping poorly? Absolutely. That’s love, right? We’re still raw, but we WILL BE BACK on Monday with a new recap of an old episode. See you all then!

Quote on My Wayward Son:

I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny

It’s like running into somebody from high school, you know? Somebody you don’t want to see

Stay with me, please

I’m not leaving you. I’m gonna be with you right here, every day

Cas helped

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn spoilers #spn 15x20 #carry on #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #unbelievable I can't tag Cas in the very last episode of this show #supernatural season 15

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gangrenados · 4 years ago

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Here to open an old wound 💔 How would have Erik reacted to knowing Peter is his son? I mean how would have Peter told him so anyway? My poor boy 😭

Fuck u X-Men for not making Dadneto a thing, like really fuck you 😒

°°°°

Peter would ramble until he ran out of words, anxiety starts to begin as Erik confused and annoyed gaze is looking directly at Peter's eyes.

He wants to avoid Erik's eyes so much, he just want to finish this bullshit and hide because it's too much to handle the truth and having a thousand questions that you know they might never been answered.

So Peter breath deeply, preparing himself for what's to come as Erki is making up excuses for getting out of this awkward conversation.

"I'm your son." Peter blurts out, not daring to look at his father directly.

And then the world stops completely for Erik. What the fuck is going on? Is the only thing he can think about

He's feeling dizzy, like any time soon he's gonna find himself on the floor throwing up his guts. How didn't he knew about this?, how didn't he knew the he had a family?

"You better be kidding?" Erik harsh words hurt Peter like a bullet. By now his whole body is shaking fast, a thing he uses to do when his emotions are to strong to control.

"I'm not!" Peter says, frustrated with himself for not calming down." My mom had something with a guy that controlled metal, okay? And that man is you."

Erik doesn't know what to say or do, he's too overwhelmed to think straight and the sight of his "son" braking in front of him doesn't make things any easier.

Erik wants to help him, if what Peter is saying is true then that's the least thin he can do as a father.

He did the same to Nina when she was angry; Erik remembers how he used to make her laugh to help her cope with whatever was frustrating her. He would do whatever is in his power to help someone from his own blood and kind.

"I'm your son, alright? I know I'm not crazy." Those last words were full of hurt and doubt, maybe insisting wasn't going to help. Peter sighed

He was ready to just walk away, but before he could do so Erik hugged him, letting his emotions take over him." I have a family." He whispered astonished.

Peter didn't knew how to react, yeah he was glad that Erik accepted him but he wasn't really expecting him being this emotional." Yeah, I guess you do..." he said, patting Erik's back.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff headcanon #peter maximoff imagine #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnesherr imagine #dadneto #xmen #xmen days of future past #xmen Apocalypse #xmen dark Phoenix

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gwentoryfics · 4 years ago

Text

Hot for Teacher, Part 10.

GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

WORDS | 11.3k

SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

WARNINGS | Swearing. Phone sex. Video sex. Masturbation (male and female). Pillow humping.

PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • More Coming Soon

NOTE | The smut MAY have gotten a little out of hand this time... NO REGERTS. Also sorry that it took me so long to finally finish & post this. Anxiety, depression, and long work weeks really suck.

TAGS | @astralsweetness, @bearboyunho, @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @honeyutoda, @kkxn0, @precious-seungwooya, @seraplantery, @smilechannie, @the-deviant-world, @yeosang-ponytail

“Jinho?”

You’re completely frozen in place as you stare at your brother, as bright eyed as he’s ever been, standing just across the lobby. He stands on his tiptoes to wave as people pass between you both, and then he’s walking towards you.

Jinho, your big brother, is here. He’s right here.

You finally break out of your shock, vision growing blurry with tears as you rush towards him, abandoning your grip on your suitcase as soon as he pulls you into a hug.

“_____, I missed you!” Jinho squeezes you tightly, and you notice his body is much more solid than it used to be.

“Jinho…” You weakly whimper his name as the tears begin to fall, still in utter disbelief that after so long you finally get the chance to see him again. You haven’t heard a word from him since the day he disappeared.

“Come on, _____, don’t cry.” He pats your back but doesn’t make any attempt to let you go.

Even with your arms securely wrapped around him, you still can't comprehend the fact that he's here and he's alive and he's here.

Jinho waits until you finally release him, giving you all the time you need to hold him close. He gives you the warmest smile, and as much as it soothes you, it also makes you suddenly, incredibly angry.

"Where did you go?" You ask, frustration thick in your voice. "Why did you leave? Why haven't I heard anything from you?"

Jinho's smile fades, but he seems understanding of your pain. "Let's talk about it in the car, okay?"

You nod, overwhelmed by all of the emotions flooding you. Jinho grabs the handle of your bag and leads you out into the parking lot. You tightly grasp the sleeve of his coat as you walk together, afraid that he could slip away from you at any moment.

Once you’re finally on the road and headed home, he speaks up. “You know how mom and dad wanted you to be a secretary? Or a housewife? They’ve been telling you basically since you could walk that they already decided what you should do with your life and that their plan was the best plan. Right?”

You hum quietly in agreement. They had always been vocal about what they wanted for you.

“They did that to me, too, I’m sure you remember.”

“Yeah, I lost count of the number of times I heard them telling family and neighbors about how you were going to take over the farm one day.”

“It’s suffocating. It felt like I had no control over my life, like I couldn’t actually do what I wanted to do.”

“What did you want to do?”

Jinho sighs, shifting in his seat as you coast down the street, headed for the country. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I still don’t. All I knew was that I wanted to make my own decision. So I joined the Army.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up a little straighter, surprised. “What?”

Jinho lets out a short laugh at your response. “Yeah, it just seemed like the right way to go. I didn’t have a plan for university or for a career, so I thought joining the Army would let me get away from home for a while, let me meet some new people.”

“Jinho, how does that make any sense? You left home because you had no freedom, so you joined the Army, where you also have no freedom?”

“I never said it was a good idea, or even the right one. But it’s the choice I made. I got to make that decision,” Jinho responds bitterly. A little softer, he says, “I didn’t have the balls you have to uproot your whole life in pursuit of a passion, to tell mom and dad that you won’t do as they say. So I just had to leave, had to disappear.”

You chew on your lip, processing everything he’s shared with you, but one question remains: “Why did you have to abandon me, too?”

“It felt like the only way. It felt like I needed full separation from my life here, and you were unfortunately part of that. I feel awful about it and I never should have removed myself from your life like that. You’re my little sister,” He looks over at you fondly, but it’s bittersweet. “And I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be there for you but I was selfish and left you to fend for yourself. I am so, so sorry for that.”

You hate to admit it, but you understand where he’s coming from. It makes sense. You just hate that it made you feel so shitty and like you didn’t mean anything to him. But you’ve always loved your big brother, and honestly you’re so happy to have him back that it’s feeling more and more difficult to continue being upset with him. Still, you put on a pout. “Maybe if you buy me some ice cream before we get home, I’ll think about forgiving you.”

“You’ve got it. One large chocolate cone for my favorite baby sister, comin’ right up.” He heartily agrees to it, and you smile.

“How long are you home for?”

“It’s indefinite. I’m done with the Army.”

“Really? What are you going to do now?”

Jinho laughs. “No idea. But that’s kind of freeing. Like I can just decide to do anything now.”

“That’s true,” you laugh with him. “And no matter what you end up choosing, I’m proud of you for figuring it out your own way.”

With a fond smile, he says, “Thanks, _____. And I’m proud of you for following your heart and doing what you love, despite whatever bullshit mom and dad try to shove down our throats.”

Oh, if only he knew just how much you’ve been following your heart… But you’re not ready to tell him all of that right now, if at all. The two of you used to be really close growing up, but him leaving obviously drove a pretty big wedge between you. It doesn’t feel right to tell him exactly what you’ve been up to at school.

Besides, it feels really nice to just let yourself get away from the drama, to just relax in the car with your brother on your way home, with the promise of ice cream in the very near future. You want to enjoy this just a little while longer before you’re forced back into contemplating your predicament.

All of the boys in your life can wait. The only one that matters right now is Jinho.

When you finally pull into the driveway, it feels like a weight lifts up off of your shoulders. It’s so good to be home; you love the excitement of the city, but there’s something so peaceful about the small farm town where you grew up.

Your parents are both thrilled to have you home, of course, and the four of you stay up a little too late just to enjoy being a full family again. Regardless of the circumstances of Jinho’s disappearance, it doesn’t seem like your parents are holding any grudges. You’re really thankful for that.

The next day, the Thanksgiving festivities kick off with a trip to your grandparents’ house where your dad’s large family crowds around the tables in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The food is incredible, the relatives are loud, and everything just feels right… Although you can’t help but be excited about moving on to the next house for dinner.

After a few hours of eating and visiting with your relatives, your family piles back into the car and heads to your mom’s brother’s place--more specifically, Minseo’s childhood home.

As expected, Minseo tackles you as soon as you walk in the door, smothering you with a hug and squealing about how much she missed you.

You squeeze her as tight as you can, twirling in circles with her in your arms. “I missed you too! We have so much to catch up on!”

“Oh my God, you have no idea.” Minseo puts her mouth right up against your ear and whispers, “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“What?” You practically squeak, partially from the surprise of her announcement and partially from the tickle of her breath. You release her from the hug and grip her arms. “Who? Since when? What happened?”

“I can’t get into it now because the whole family’s here and honestly my parents are not thrilled that I’ve even been hanging out with this guy. But what do you think about a good old fashioned sleepover at your place tonight?”

“Of course!” You nod excitedly.

“Yay! Okay cool.” She plants a kiss on your cheek and gives you one last hug. “I’m gonna go say hi to Jinho, since I haven’t seen him yet since he’s been back.”

You remember that she was supposed to pick you up from the train station. “When did you find out that he was home? I can’t even begin to tell you how shocked I was to see him at the train station instead of you.”

“Only a few days before you got here. He got my number from your mom and asked if he could pick you up instead. I told him yes, of course, but only if he bought me ice cream to make up for the fact that he was keeping you away from me for an additional day. I still need to cash in on that.”

With a giggle, you admit, “I made him buy me ice cream too, as an apology for disappearing in the first place.”

“What else is he good for if he isn’t supplying us with snacks?” Minseo laughs heartily. “Anyway, I love you, and I’m excited to chat more tonight.”

“Love you, too.” You give her a smile as she walks off to greet your brother.

More family members arrive, and eventually you all get settled for dinner. The food is delicious, as it always is, and you mingle with some of your aunts after the meal.

As you scan your eyes across the living room, you catch Jiyoo's gaze for what must be the fifth time already. Honestly, you're starting to wonder why she hasn't just come over to say hello yet. You excuse yourself from the conversation your aunts are having, which you weren't really a part of anyway, and slip through the room to finally greet your cousin.

"Hey, Jiyoo!" You walk right up and give her a hug. "How's the married life?"

She lightly hugs you back, but she seems a little stiff. "Oh, you know, it's going well. Hey, um, can I talk to you for a sec?"

You let go, immediately sensing that something must be wrong by the way she just dismisses . "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

"Maybe let's…" She nods her head towards the back door. "Maybe some fresh air?"

"Sure, okay." You agree, deciding to just follow her lead on this one.

The cold night air instantly hits you as soon as you step foot outside, but it's actually kind of refreshing. The house was getting a little stuffy because of all of your relatives, anyway.

Jiyoo takes a seat in one of the lawn chairs sitting out there and gestures for you to sit in the one next to her. You oblige. "Is everything okay?"

She finally confronts you, asking, “Did you really sleep with Hongseok?”

Panic strikes deep into the core of your bones. How could she know? “Sorry, what?”

“He told Hwitaek and I overheard and I just… I thought we should talk about it.”

“He? He told… Hwitaek?” You’re absolutely flabbergasted. Why would he do that? Was he just bothered by the way you ran out and needed to talk to a friend? That wouldn’t be entirely unfair of him, but you had both agreed to keep it a secret originally and you assumed that still rang true for your most recent tryst.

“Hey, it’s okay, just… just be honest. If he’s just talking shit about you, you can let me know and I’ll set the record straight.” Jiyoo searches your face for a sign of the truth, concern lining her delicate features.

You try to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This is certainly not something you wanted to tackle tonight, but you suppose you don’t have much choice if she already knows about it. “...And if he’s telling the truth?”

Jiyoo’s lips press into a thin line. “Then I guess I just need to accept that my baby cousin isn’t that much of a baby anymore.”

With a frown, you apologize. “I’m really sorry… I know it was a bad idea but I just…”

“You couldn’t help it. I get it.” Jiyoo lets out a deep sigh. “Honestly, that’s how I was when I met Hwitaek.”

You look to her expectantly. “I’ve never actually heard the story.”

Jiyoo hums and crosses her legs, settling back into her chair. “We were both bio chem majors, so I saw him around quite a lot. He has sort of a distinct face, one that’s really memorable. And he used to always wear these big headphones everywhere he went. I always wondered what he would listen to.” She smiles as she fondly reminisces. “I used to work at the computer lab in the science building part-time, and one day he passed by. And just as I turned around in my chair to tell my coworker about the cute Headphones Guy, he walked right up to the desk.”

You smile, enraptured by her storytelling. “Did he ask you out?”

“Don’t rush the story!” Jiyoo chides. “No, that’s actually not why he came back. He asked me if I knew what time the building closed, and I said I wasn’t sure. And then he gave me this weird look and laughed, saying, ‘What do you mean? You work here. How do you not know what time the building closes?’ I felt like an idiot, but I just told him that I knew when the lab closed, but that I didn’t know if the building closed at the same time. I didn’t think it was that crazy, but he did, apparently.”

“Wow, that’s very romantic,” you sarcastically comment with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it might not have been a great start, but the thing is, he stayed right there at my desk and talked to me for an hour and a half until my shift was over. And then he walked me to my dorm building. And then he came upstairs, and I’m sure you can guess where this is headed.” She smiles at you deviously.

With a laugh, you respond, “Really? You gave it up that quickly? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“_____, you’ve seen him. I took one look at him and I was enamored. Add his dorky personality on top of that and I was practically telling him I loved him that night.” Even in the darkness of the backyard, you’re positive that she’s blushing. “And now look at us. He’s the love of my life and I wouldn’t give him up for the world. So all of this to say, I absolutely understand how there are certain people that you just can’t resist.”

You just nod. “It’s definitely difficult.”

“So how have you been handling the semester?”

“I mean, I tried to keep things between us as normal as possible but obviously that didn’t really work out, as you’re apparently aware,” you laugh. But when you look over at her, she just looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

And that’s when it dawns on you that this whole time she’s just been talking about your original hookup with Hongseok. She doesn’t know about the one that happened literally two nights ago. “Oh! Oh… oh no.”

You can’t cover for yourself in time. Jiyoo’s eyes grow wide and her mouth hangs open as she realizes exactly where the misunderstanding came from. “Did you sleep with him again?”

“I thought that’s what you were talking about!”

“_____!” Even though Jiyoo is shocked, she keeps her volume low, well aware that the entire rest of your family is packed inside. “He’s your professor!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Frustration blossoms in your chest. “And what about everything you just said? I thought you understood!”

“This is different! It’s one thing to be swept off your feet by a handsome stranger, and it’s entirely another to screw your professor!”

“Are you seriously mad about this right now?”

Jiyoo just shakes her head in disbelief. “_____… What have you done?” She falls silent, and somehow that is the worst thing that you could have received from her. She takes a deep breath and then instructs you to stay put as she disappears inside. When she returns a few moments later, Hwitaek and Minseo are in tow.

She literally brought in recruits. You immediately throw up your walls, feeling the need to defend yourself. “What’s this all about?”

Jiyoo looks at you like the concerned mother hen that she’s always been whenever you’re involved. “I think we all need to talk about how you’re handling yourself.”

Minseo’s brow furrows with confusion as she looks to Jiyoo. “What happened?”

“She slept with Hongseok again.”

Both Hwitaek and Minseo are visibly shocked by the news, but more importantly, you’re shocked by the gall that Jiyoo has to spread your personal life around like that.

Minseo’s expression melts to something that looks kind of like sadness. Before she can say anything to you, though, you shoot daggers at Jiyoo. “Why don’t we all just quit being such a gossipy family and instead just mind our own business?”

“_____-” Jiyoo tries to reach out to you, but you turn and storm off, heading towards the barn just to get a second away from everyone so that you can breathe.

You slip inside the large barn, slowing your pace as you walk past the tractors and other equipment stored there. You head directly to the back of the barn and plop down onto the floor.

There’s something weirdly comforting about being in the barn. It reminds you of growing up, back when things were a little more simple. Your life working on the family farm hadn’t been particularly easy--it’s very challenging work--but at least back then you didn’t make such shitty decisions for how to live your life.

You barely get more than a minute of solitude before the barn door creaks open, and Hwitaek pops his head in. “_____?” He looks around for a second before he spots you. “Can I come in?”

“You’re not here to lecture me, are you?”

“Not going to lecture you. I promise.”

You chew your bottom lip. “Come in.”

Hwitaek closes the door behind him and makes the long walk over to where you’re seated. He joins you on the floor, and sits quietly for longer than you expected. Maybe he just doesn’t really know what to say. It’s not like the two of you have ever spent time together before. You chatted for, like, a second at the wedding, and that’s it.

Eventually he gets some words together. “I’m not going to apologize because it’s not my place to, but I’m sure you know that Jiyoo likes to make everything her business.”

“Not sure if you’ve seen any trends yet, but that’s kind of just how our family is.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckles. “Minseo has been spending a lot of time at our place recently and oh my God those two never run out of tea to spill.”

You have to laugh too because you know how true that is. “Yeah, they can be a lot. I’m sure it’s at least partially a small-town mindset. Everyone here is always in everyone else’s business and I’m just kind of over it. That’s half the reason why I wanted to get away and go to university.”

Hwitaek nods. “I can understand that. I’ve never lived in any major cities but it definitely seems like a change of pace compared to here.”

“It is. But I like it.”

Another silence falls between you, and you absentmindedly fiddle with your shoelaces as the cold starts to set in. It’s a bit awkward, but you just stew in it until he speaks up again.

Eventually he says, “Hongseok has talked to me about you. I know it’s not any of my business though so we don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”

“Jiyoo said he told you about… the wedding.”

“He did. And he told me how hard it has been to be around you. It sounds like he’s really been struggling with everything he’s feeling, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he caved. I even told him not to act on his impulses because clearly that introduces a lot of risk into the situation, and I didn’t think that was a good idea. He’s usually so disciplined…”

“It’s kind of my fault,” you confess. “I have zero self discipline and I just couldn’t keep myself under control.”

“Well regardless of who takes the blame, I do trust Hongseok with my life and I think he’s got a good head on his shoulders. It’s not my job to tell you two what you should or shouldn’t do, so I’m going to take a step back. He certainly doesn’t have any ulterior motives, so I don’t think it’s truly that concerning that you’re student and teacher.” He shoots you a side eye. “As long as you’re not planning to blackmail him or anything.”

You just shake your head. “I’m not like that. What happened between us has absolutely nothing to do with me wanting some sort of personal gain or anything. It’s just… he’s just attractive, that’s all.” You feel your face heat up. It feels weird to say that to Hongseok’s best friend.

“He really is. And he’s charming, too. I get why anyone would fall for him.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Who said I was falling for him?”

“Feel free to tell me you’re not, if that’s the case.” Hwitaek looks over at you, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

You frown. You know you’re definitely attracted to him, and you enjoyed spending time with him at the exhibit, but do you have any feelings? It’s hard to tell because of the way things ended. “I don’t know. I think we just need to talk when I get back. I kind of ran away last time I saw him so there’s a lot that’s unresolved.”

“Just be honest with him when you talk, and that’ll encourage him to open up, too. There’s no point in trying to have a discussion with him if he feels like he has to watch everything he says.”

“Yeah, I think some honesty would probably be good for us.”

“No matter what you two decide about where to go from here, it’s up to you two. Just know that there might be consequences, so be careful. And I’ll do my best to keep Jiyoo out of it.”

“Thanks, Hwitaek.” You give him a small smile. “I appreciate your support.”

“Of course. He’s my best friend and I want him to be happy. It’s risky, but I get it.” Hwitaek stands and holds out a hand to help you up. “Let’s head back now. It’s freezing out here and I’m dying to dig into that pumpkin pie.”

You and Minseo sit silently on the old couch in your basement, munching on gummy candies and popcorn as an old movie plays on the TV. It’s not one that either one of you is particularly enthusiastic about, but it’s just one of the many DVDs tucked into the entertainment center the TV stands on.

She’s been more quiet than usual since she came back to your house with you after the family dinner had ended, and you’re positive that it has to be because of the sudden announcement of your affair with Hongseok. You’ve been dying to bring it up with her, but you had to wait until Jinho finally went to bed so the two of you could be alone.

Now that he’s gone, it’s time for you to talk.

You’re not really sure where to start, so you just ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Minseo sighs. “We always tell each other everything. Why didn’t you tell me about Hongseok? Why did you tell Jiyoo first?”

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I was planning on telling you about it tonight. Jiyoo just accidentally figured it out first because I’m a dumbass and misunderstood what she was talking about.” You lie down across the couch, resting your head in Minseo’s lap. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get to hear about it from me first but I promise I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I was just saving it for a better time, kind of like how you didn’t want to talk about your boyfriend when we were at your parents’ house.”

Minseo rakes her fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes, pleased. “I get it. I’m sorry for being grumpy about it.”

“It’s okay. We all get grumpy. Do you want to hear about it now?”

“Duh,” she laughs. “I want every single detail. Spill.”

So you tell her everything. How he gave you the private tour of his exhibit, how you essentially invited yourself over to his apartment, how he made it pretty clear that he didn’t really want you to leave until he had his way with you. How you ran like the wind out of his apartment the next morning. And you even tell her about your trysts with Wooseok, and the fact that you’re supposed to be mulling over whether you want to date Kino when you get back to the city. And as you expect, she’s incredibly invested and interested in every single morsel of information you share with her.

“You’re really out there living your best life, huh?” She comments when you finally finish your stories. “What an exciting mess you’ve created.”

“It’s great, right?” By this point you’re seated upright again, and you lean heavily against the back of the couch, letting your head fall back against it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of it.”

Minseo shrugs. “Just do what you’ve always done: follow your heart.”

“It’s so much more complicated than that, though.” You respond with a frown. “I can’t just do whatever I want anymore.”

“Well but you can. To an extent, at least. It’s your life, after all. And it’s up to you to make sure that you’re living in a way that makes you happy. It sounds like you enjoy spending time with all of the guys you’ve been around, but now you’re too stressed by the circumstances to keep enjoying it. Obviously hooking up with multiple guys and ignoring romantic feelings isn’t the answer anymore.”

“And my heart will tell me what to do now?”

“It’s a starting point. Take me and Hyojong, for instance. My parents don’t like him, but I do. He’s what makes me happy. So screw what other people think. Don’t worry about our family. Don’t worry about your friends back at school. This is totally your choice, and you get to decide what you want to do. If you’re just living your life based off of what other people want or expect from you, then you’re bound to have regrets.”

You have to admit that she’s right. You only get one life, and you’re the only one that gets to run it. So you can’t let yourself worry about what other people will think if you decide you’re interested in anything romantic with Hongseok, or Kino, or Wooseok… or how the three of them might feel if you choose not to pursue anything romantic with anyone. You have to choose for you.

“I have to choose for me.” You nod. “This is my life and who cares what other people think?”

“Exactly! That’s the spirit.” Minseo smiles broadly. “You’ll figure it out. And whatever is right is what will happen.”

You return her smile, and refocus the conversation on Minseo. “So Hyojong? That’s your boy?”

Giddy, she nods excitedly. “Yeah. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, but _____, he is absolutely wonderful.” She pulls out her cell phone and shows you a photo of the two of them picking apples. You immediately recognize his heavy-lidded gaze and long hair.

“Really? The bartender from the wedding? Girl!” You nudge her playfully. “I knew you thought he was cute but I didn’t know that you were, like, into him into him.”

“I didn’t know either! But I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jiyoo and Hwitaek recently and Jiyoo kind of set us up, and he’s so weird and funny and cool. He’s perfect for me.”

A warm smile touches your lips. “I’m so happy for you, Minseo. That’s exactly the kind of love you deserve.”

“Thanks,” she nearly blushes. “Now we’ve just gotta get you on the same train.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I get it figured out.” As your conversation comes to a close, you look back to the TV. “Can we please watch something else? I’m so over this movie.”

“Oh my God, I thought you’d never ask,” Minseo laughs. “Yes, please.”

Late Friday night, you find yourself digging through your closet in search of the sheet music you know you have for “Rhapsody in Blue”. You meant to bring it with you this year but you forgot about it when you made the move back up to your dorm. You’re certain it must be in here, but you keep getting distracted by old photo albums and yearbooks and all of the other nostalgia packed into the shelves of your closet.

One of the items that catches your attention is the keepsake box that your mother put together for you. It started out as a place for you to store all of the cards you got for your birthday or holidays, but you added other random items to the box like the friendship keychain Minseo made for you when you were younger, or the small piece of wood you found that broke off of the dance floor during your school’s prom.

Inevitably, whenever you revisit the keepsake box, you find something in there that you had forgotten about. This time is no different.

When you open the small box, your eyes immediately land on the dried up flowers sitting at the very top: Hongseok’s boutonniere.

You completely forgot that you decided to keep it--your night with him was just a pleasant memory by the time you departed for school. When you had put the flowers in this box, you had no idea just how much of a story would grow.

You pick up the small bundle of withered blooms, running a finger over the dried petals until you realize something that you should have noticed before--now that the flowers have shrunk, you can very easily see the piece of paper that’s tucked in the middle of the bunch.

Gently, you pick out the paper, the dramatic beating of your heart picking up rapidly. Did he leave you a note when he gave you the boutonniere? What secret message could he have snuck to you?

As you unfold the small note, you realize he didn’t leave you a message--he left you his phone number.

Ten digits, his name, and a stupid winky face.

Part of you wants to crumple it up and throw it out the window. Rid yourself of it forever so you can stop thinking about him all the goddamn time.

But another (and unfortunately much stronger) part of you tells yourself that this is special. This means that you were never just a random hookup to him. Well, maybe it was random, but the phone number at least implies that he wanted to see you again.

Hongseok quite literally asked you to reach out. He gave you everything you needed to establish a connection with him.

What would have happened if you had called? Would he have wanted to take you out on a date? Would he have asked you to get all dolled up again, just like you did that night, just so he could ruin you?

And more importantly… what would he do if you call him now?

There’s so much that was left unsaid between you and him after you ran out. You have a million questions. And for some reason, you’re feeling stupidly brave right now. (You blame it on the dumb winky face.)

You jump onto your bed and grab your phone, your hands shaking as you pull up the dialpad. Are you really about to do this?

You punch in his number.

You press the damn green button.

You hold the phone up to your ear, pulse racing at the sound of the ringing.

And then he answers.

“Hello?” His voice alone sends something terribly wonderful shooting through your veins.

“Hi.” You answer simply, not really sure what to say.

Hongseok pauses for a moment, and then he says, “Sorry, who is this?”

Idiot. He doesn’t have your number. “Oh, right, um, it’s me. _____.”

He pauses for a longer moment, and you worry he might hang up on you altogether.

“Um, so I’m home right now for Thanksgiving, and I… I found the flowers. And your number.”

“I’m not sure this is appropriate.”

A bitter frown reaches your lips at his response. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well what do you want me to say, _____? What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!” You’re starting to feel exasperated, but you remind yourself that your rushed exit could be the cause of his attitude. More calmly, you say, “I’m sorry that I left like that. I just panicked and I had to get out of there. I’ve felt so confused about everything.”

“I suppose I can’t blame you for that.” Hongseok sighs gently. “We sure have made things confusing, haven’t we?”

You nod, and then realize he can’t see the gesture. “Yeah. We really have.”

“Can you give me a minute? Just stay on the line.”

You hum in acknowledgement and the call goes completely silent. Your pulse is through the roof, equal parts excited to be speaking with him over the phone and fatally nervous to be speaking with him over the phone.

After a little while, his voice is back. “Still there?”

“I am.”

“Thank you for not leaving this time.”

You let out a small laugh to accompany your eye roll. “Was that all a test?”

“Not exactly.” Hongseok chuckles in tune with you. “I just needed a second to get myself a drink before having this conversation.”

“Ah. You think it’s going to be that bad?”

“For my career, probably. Or my sanity, at the very least.”

It’s pleasantly surprising to you how quickly he drops his guard this time. “I drive you that crazy, huh?”

“Yeah.” He admits. “Yeah, you do.”

Now it’s your turn to be silent. You hadn’t expected him to so openly admit that.

“I have to ask…” He starts. “I thought maybe you just lost the boutonniere or that my phone number fell out, and that’s why you didn’t call. But you kept both of those things. So… why didn’t you?”

“Hongseok, you folded the paper up so small and you tucked it so far into the flowers that I had no idea it was even in there. I just saved the flowers because… I don’t know, they had a good memory attached. I didn’t even see the paper until now because the flowers finally wilted enough to expose it.”

“Was it really that small?”

“You folded it four times,” you laugh. “Once or twice would have sufficed. And you could have just handed it to me separately. I don’t know why you were so sneaky about it.”

“I thought it would be a cute gesture!” He defends himself. “I was just trying to be romantic.”

“You had the right idea. And hey, I called you eventually.”

“Yeah, just not under the circumstances I expected.”

There’s a thick pause, the silence heavy between you. You know exactly where this conversation should go, but you’re scared to be the one to bring it all up. The longer the silence goes on, though, the more you realize you just need to suck it up and ask the questions you want answers to.

“...How do you feel? About what we did?” You try to keep your voice steady to hide your nervousness. Then you tack on, “I think now would be a good time for us to start being honest with each other.”

He exhales deeply. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt more conflicted about something in my life. I’ve spent the last few months preaching to you about morals, and then I brought you into my home, fully aware of the Kryptonite that you are.”

You can’t let him take all of the blame for what happened. You say, “I’m the one that suggested it.”

“Yeah, why did you do that?”

“Because I thought I had something to prove. I swear I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I genuinely thought that I just needed to one-up your car ride suggestion to show you how okay things were between us.”

“But now here we are.” Another pause, but this one isn’t as long as he willingly confesses to you, “I hate that you left. I absolutely hated it.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have run out like that.” You apologize, but there’s more you want to say. “But… I’m not sorry about what we did."

There. You admit it. As much as you felt the need to apologize to Jiyoo about your behavior the other night, it was empty. You don’t regret it. And if you had the chance to sleep with Hongseok again, you'd do it. It might be wrong, but you honestly couldn't care less. Especially now that you're talking to him, hearing his sweet voice and remembering the way he touched you.

Quietly, he responds, "That makes things quite complicated, doesn't it?"

"How do you feel about it?" You press him, feeling like tonight is the night he’ll actually be frank with you about what he’s thinking.

"It was careless of me to let you into my home, and even more careless of me to give in to my desires. I genuinely thought I could handle being around you, but I can't. I can't be around you, _____. You're far too much of a temptation."

"You say you can't. But you want to be," you push. You're getting him to open up one way or another.

And it works.

"Yes, _____, I want to be around you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"It is." Frustration is sharp in his voice. "I've been a wreck thinking about you since you left. I've been absolutely torn up trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now and wondering how you’ll act in class, if you’ll even show up. And now you just call me out of the blue? Do you know how badly I wanted you to call me this summer?"

You answer with your own question, keeping your voice soft. "I called you as soon as I found your number, didn't I? I swear I would have called you in a heartbeat if I had seen it sooner."

He sighs deeply. "Can you imagine how much harder this semester would have been, though? It was hard enough for us to stay apart this long, and that's after sleeping together only once this summer. We could have potentially built up a lot more… history before the semester started if things had gone differently."

"So you're saying you would have slept with me again if I had called you the next day?" A coy smile comes to your lips and you grip the comforter on your bed.

"If you called me, and that's what you wanted, then of course."

"And the day after that?"

He laughs. "As often as you wanted."

Butterflies stir deep within you. "...and what about now?"

Hongseok is quiet for what feels like a century before he responds. "What is it that you want?"

You bite your lower lip, knowing exactly what you want to say but trying to get up the courage to speak it. Eventually you just force it out. "I want to see you when I'm back from break."

"When do you get back?"

"Sunday afternoon."

"Come over then. I'll be home."

Incredible excitement pulses through you. He's done fighting it. He has given in just as much as you have.

"You'll have to text me your address," you coolly respond.

"I'll do that."

Quiet falls over the line, and you know that there's still something else you need to talk about. "What does all of this mean when it comes to class? It's too late for me to drop and honestly, you haven't done a great job of giving me unbiased grades anyway. You're too good at math for that to have been an accident every time."

"You're right about that, and I apologize again. You, on the other hand, have done a wonderful job keeping me honest."

"Why did you boost my grades, anyway?"

"Because I knew you'd come storming into my office to get it fixed."

"So what, you just wanted to see me?"

"I did."

"You know that was a terrible plan, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"You've really got it bad," you joke. But there's a little bit of weight to it, just a touch of truth.

"And you don't?" He replies, and you feel the same weight in his voice.

You let yourself respond flirtatiously. "How can I not?"

Hongseok lets out a soft chuckle. "We've been screwed since the beginning, I think."

"Agreed," you murmur. "I knew the second I laid eyes on you that I was in trouble."

"It was that easy, huh?"

"It was mostly the tux," you lie. He gets a big ego far too easily.

"Mm. Then what was it the other night? Because I certainly wasn't wearing a tux."

You laugh and shamelessly divulge, "It was the glasses…"

"Really? Those old things?"

"They just looked so… you looked really handsome in them." The blatant compliment is rough on your tongue. It feels weird to so openly tell him that he's attractive.

"Mm," he hums. "I like hearing you say that."

Your already quick heartbeat picks up, but you don't know how to respond. So you just pick up your unfinished train of thought. "Wait, we're getting distracted. How are we going to finish this semester?"

"I swear on my life that I will give you a fair grade. I won't boost it in your favor just to prove my interest, and I also won't lower it if you decide you want nothing to do with me. I understand that I gravely mishandled the first part of this semester, and I just need you to trust that I'll do better this time."

You frown a little. "I want to trust you on that. It at least makes me feel a little better that you were always willing to fix my grade when I told you there was an issue."

"And if you have any further complaints about your grade, we can discuss it. That is always the truth."

"Okay. That makes me feel better." You breathe a little easier.

"And of course, it goes without saying that this should remain between just the two of us."

You sigh heavily. "Then I'm just gonna come clean right now and let you know that Jiyoo and Hwitaek already know."

"You told them?" Hongseok sounds rigid as ever, and you hope you didn’t just ruin his pleasant attitude by telling him that.

"It was an accident! Jiyoo came up to me spouting about how she knows about everything because you blabbed before, and I thought she meant everything everything, so I accidentally said more than I should have. In my defense, I'm obviously not the first one to talk to them about it so I'd appreciate it if you weren't too harsh about this."

He takes a deep breath, and you hear the clink of ice in his glass as he takes a drink. "They really are nosey--well, Jiyoo, mostly. Hwitaek just gets sucked in."

"She's always been that way," you confide.

Hongseok actually chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me."

"It's still kind of weird to me that you know them so well. And then you ended up being my professor? What are the odds?"

"Mmm… I’d say about one in twenty-seven million, nine-hundred-sixty-seven thousand, six-hundred-thirty-two or so."

You laugh in disbelief. "Don’t tell me that you legitimately just did that math in your head.”

“I mean, I can only take partial credit for that because no, I didn’t do the exact math for our situation. I don’t even know how to start calculating that. But I do know that the average probability of winning a six-number lottery is thirteen million, nine-hundred-eighty-three thousand, eight-hundred-sixteen, and I figure our situation is probably even more rare than that, so I just doubled it. That figure is probably still too low, though.”

“Oh my God,” you just shake your head, laughing. “You’re absurd. You just know the exact probability of winning the lottery? And you just did all of that multiplication in your head? Who does that?”

“I do, _____. I’m a mathematical genius.” Hongseok sounds so serious that you can’t help but laugh a little harder, and he laughs right along with you. "It really is unreal, though. I had no idea that I would cross paths with you at the university,” he continues. “Do you feel okay with all of this?"

"Yeah, I do.” You start to regain your composure. “I feel much better now that we're talking."

"Good. I want you to feel okay, especially if we both want to… move forward with any kind of relations."

You have to roll your eyes at his choice of words. "'Relations'? That's what you went with?"

"Ah, yes. 'Rendezvous' would have been better."

"Oh my God, you're an idiot," you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles quietly. "What should I say, then? What do you think is more appropriate?"

"Maybe hook-up?" You offer. "Or… bang sesh? Fuck fest?"

That elicits deeper laughter from him. "All good options, I suppose."

"Or if you wanted something a little softer… maybe… a date?"

"I like that suggestion." His voice is warm when he responds, and then more quietly he says, "I was afraid that I ruined everything because of the way you ran out. I thought I went too far and made you regret the whole thing."

Butterflies stir deep in your belly. "You didn't ruin a thing. But I was definitely surprised when you kissed me. And… you said you couldn't stop thinking about me. I had no idea."

"I've spent more time thinking about you than I'd care to admit, if I'm being honest."

You let yourself smile broadly when he says that. It's not like he can see you grinning like a fool, anyway. "What would you think about?" You prod.

"Most of the time, it's your eyes."

"Really?"

"They're so intense, and so honest. It’s unbelievably easy to feel connected to you because of that, even when you’re mad or upset." He softly muses. "And when I'm not thinking about your eyes, I'm thinking about the way you danced with me at the wedding reception. Or the incredible music you make when you sit down at the piano. Your passion is truly amazing."

You appreciate the compliment, but that's not really the type of conversation you're trying to have right now. "And what about when you're alone? What do you think about when you think of me then?"

"Are you looking for something a little more R-rated? Is that what you want?" He teases you.

You sink a little lower into your bed, humming quietly in agreement.

"Those are the times when I think about the curve of your body, your clothes on the floor, you pinned under me." He confidently responds.

"Mm… Are you alone now?"

"I am." He responds darkly. "So yes, those are the thoughts currently going through my head."

A delicious flame of pleasure licks at the space between your thighs, and you drag your fingers subconsciously across your throat. "I have very similar thoughts… like thinking about your face buried between my legs." You don't allow yourself to be embarrassed by the bold statement--you're too turned on to think critically, anyway.

“Just you wait until Sunday, _____.” The mellow timbre of his voice has taken on some edge. “I have to warn you, though. I can’t guarantee that I’ll let you leave once you get here.”

“I want you to wreck me, Hongseok. Just absolutely demolish me when I get there.” Your voice becomes increasingly breathy as your hand slides up under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way and toying with your nipples. Christ, what you wouldn’t do to replace your hand with his right now.

“If you’re going to keep talking like that, I think that can certainly be arranged.”

Pinching your nipple, you let out a soft gasp. All rational thought is very quickly going out the window as your need for release quickly takes over.

“_____, are you touching yourself?”

You know your noises aren’t quiet enough to prevent getting caught, but you’re also not at all guilty about being caught. You let your voice be sultry. “What if I am?”

“Then I just might have to join you,” Hongseok responds, fucking cool as a cucumber like always.

Your stomach twists into a delicious knot--you’d love nothing more than to masturbate with him over the phone. But before you get too carried away, there are a few things you want to take care of first. You abandon your chest, fumbling for the headphones that lie tangled up on your nightstand, knowing that you’re going to want both of your hands free for this. You also stuff a blanket along the bottom of your bedroom door to block the light coming from your room and help muffle any sound--your family should all be asleep by now, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

“You always get me thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking.” His voice comes through your headphones loud and clear, and your phone buzzes in your hand with the receipt of a text message. “Check your phone.”

You quickly realize the message is from him, and as soon as you open the message, you swallow hard. Hongseok sent you a picture of himself lounging in bed, in nothing but low-slung sweatpants. At the top of the frame you can just barely make out his teeth biting into his plush lower lip, and his muscular abdomen takes up the majority of the screen. But perhaps the most important and eye-catching piece of the whole photo is the unmistakable outline of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweats, emphasized by his hand holding the base and pulling his pants tight against his erection. You have no doubt that he must have taken photos like this a thousand times before because no one is that good at taking sexy shots without some practice.

“F-fuck,” you mumble, completely caught off-guard by the photo. Every thought you have is some combination of you wanting to kiss or lick or bite or suck every inch of him, and you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. “Oh my God, you’re such a tease.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No it’s fucking amazing but Christ, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Well if you’re open to suggestions, you could maybe send something back.”

You pause for just a second, contemplating, and then respond. “Okay, hold on.”

You know that getting a good photo could easily take you twenty minutes, so you reserve yourself to the fact that you’re just going to have to settle for whatever you can get in the next sixty seconds. You quickly shimmy out of your sweatpants so you’re just in your blue cotton underwear and a graphic tee. You pull up the hem of the shirt to expose a little of your tummy, and then try to snap a picture similar to his. It’s not quite enough, though, so at the last second you decide to slip your fingers into your panties, pulling the band down with your thumb to show off some extra skin.

There. That’s the shot.

“Okay, I’m sending it,” you tell him quietly, your hand oddly shaky as you press Send.

He hums softly in acknowledgement, and you hear him suck in a breath as soon as he opens the picture. “Fucking hell,” Hongseok groans. “You are so hot it is unbelievable.”

A devilish grin creeps onto your lips. You love that he’s just as floored by you as you are by him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

"For starters, I'll put that rotten mouth of yours to good use. And then--what was it? I'll wreck you. Ruin you. Demolish you. I'll pin you to the wall, the bed, the floor, and I'll stuff you with my cock until you can't think straight."

Jesus Christ this man knows just what to say. You haphazardly push your panties down, kicking them off onto the floor as your fingers graze over your slick pussy. "Too bad we have to wait a whole two days for that."

"I guess I'll just have to fill the time thinking of you and stroking my cock."

His words send a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you'd like to think of how wet I am right now, how easily--aahh--how easily my fingers slip right inside." You glide one finger into your pussy, delighted by the way your nerves completely light up at the sensation. Your other hand returns to your chest, making sure your whole body is tended to.

"Fuck," he chuckles playfully. "You've got me so hard, _____."

"Ugh I just wanna ride you forever." You hear him moan quietly over the line. "Are you touching yourself, too?"

"Of course I am. How can I not when you paint such a lewd picture of yourself in my head?"

"I'm fingering myself and wishing you were here, Hongseok. I wanna be strewn out, completely wasted because I'm so drunk on you."

"Tell me what you're doing, _____."

"I've got one finger pumping slowly in and out of my pussy. My palm--nggh--is pressing against my clit. And my other hand is up my shirt, pinching my nipple. It feels so good, Hongseok, oh my God…" You start to get carried away in the pleasure you create for yourself, and you struggle to keep focused.

"I want you here so badly," Hongseok groans, and you know it's because of his pleasure. "I swear I have never in my life wanted anything as much as I want you right now."

Your heart flutters uncontrollably. How does he always manage to make these moments feel romantic? You desperately want to respond, I'm all yours if you want me to be, Hongseok, but it feels too heavy. Too laden with emotion. You swallow all of that down and respond with a much safer, "Tell me what you're doing right now, Hongseok."

"I'm thrusting my cock into my fist and desperately wishing it was your pussy instead, wishing I could fill my hands with your ass and occupy my lips with yours."

You whimper at his words. Imagining him fucking his hand drives you absolutely wild, especially when accompanied with such sweet words. And you can hear his hard breathing, his deep dulcet tones as he tells you exactly what you want to hear.

Hongseok continues, "My cock is throbbing in my hand, fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad."

"I'm dying to feel your cock again," you moan quietly, careful to keep your volume low. As you slip in another finger, you feel the deep pressure that you know precedes some of your most amazing orgasms. Oh, this is gonna be good. "Fuck, Hongseok…"

He moans softly too, murmuring your name as he pleasures himself. "I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groans. "What do you think, _____?"

"I want it, Hongseok, I want you to…" You're cut off by the buzzing of your phone.

"Check your phone," Hongseok breathily commands.

You release your nipple and pick up your phone with one hand, the other coming to a standstill with two fingers still pressed inside you. Electric anticipation shoots through you at the thought of receiving another dirty photo from him.

But this time, it's not a photo.

Hongseok sent you a video.

With a shaky hand you press play, and you're immediately drowning in lust. The video shows his hand tightly gripping his cock as it moves up and down the shaft, slick with spit or lube or something. You hear him hum your name in the video's sound.

"I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groaned, and it sounds even more filthy and amazing because he recorded it. And then the video shifts up his torso and to his stunningly handsome face. Hongseok stares right into the camera, flicks his tongue across his lower lip, and asks, "What do you think, _____?"

You watch it again, open-mouthed in shock and practically imploding. Not only is the video the single most sexy thing you've ever seen, but he was brave enough to send you his face? If you wanted to, you could use this video alone to turn him in to the school. He literally just handed you blackmail.

You would never, ever in a million years use this video for that purpose, though. It's just amazing to you that he would trust you so much to send you such incriminating content.

"Hongseok," you finally speak. "You are so unbelievably perfect."

"Hardly," he lets out a soft, low chuckle. "I'm just horny out of my mind right now."

"Me too, and fuck it feels so good."

"I want to see you, _____."

Your breath catches in your throat. You've never taken a video of yourself like that before, and it sends a dangerous thrill through you that he's asking for one. And as you pick up your phone, you see the call screen, and you notice that small little camera--the tiniest suggestion that you could change this call to a video call at any moment.

And then you dare to press it.

The phone rings again as you wait for Hongseok to answer the video call, and you're wholly unprepared to see his face when he picks up.

He looks at his phone for a moment, just looking at you, and then the most beautiful smile breaks across his face. "Hey."

Every organ in your chest is an absolute wreck. "Hey," you echo.

"This isn't quite what I expected when I said I wanted to see you, but I'll take it."

"It's convenient though, isn't it?" Your walls involuntarily clench around your fingers, reminding you of your need for release. "Let me… show you."

You lower the phone to skim down your body--although your top half is still covered by your t-shirt so you're really not showing much--and when you get down to the hand tucked between your legs, you lift one leg and wrap your arm around it to get a good shot of your pussy. Your fingers press deep into your slit, and you moan for Hongseok.

"Shit, _____, you look so good. I wish I could taste you."

You pull out your fingers and separate them, showing him the strings of your wetness that spread between your digits. "That's what you want?" And then you bring your hand and your phone up towards your face, putting on your best sultry eyes as you twirl your tongue around the tips of your fingers.

Hongseok groans, "Oh Christ," and then he shows you his cock, forcing you to plunge your fingers back inside your pussy out of sheer desperation.

"Hongseok, I wanna cum so bad," you whimper. You can feel it building deep within you, and you just need something to push you over the edge. And honestly, watching him work his cock might just be enough.

You feel absolutely depraved watching him stroke himself, curling your fingers into your pussy as you masturbate together. It's delightfully sinful and you're obsessed with the way it makes you feel.

"Hong… Hongseok…" you moan his name, forcing your eyes to stay open so that you can keep your focus on his hard length. The coil in your abdomen tightens to its limit, and you're entirely aware that the dam is about to break. You struggle to keep your pussy in frame, as you push yourself over the edge. "Watch, watch! I'm coming…"

And just like that, your whole pussy convulses and you abruptly pull out your fingers, watching as you squirt all over your bed. It's nearly impossible to prevent your moaning, so you do your best to keep the volume down as you explode.

Hongseok sounds just as pleased as you thought he might be when you hear a string of expletives come over the line. But even his words are broken up with soft grunts and almost-moans. "I didn't know… you could do that."

"Sometimes," you laugh, quite out of breath from the water show. "Do you like it?"

"Of course I do," his hand picks up its pace. "I want to make you squirt next time."

"You can do that," you acknowledge. Even after your release, you notice that your clit isn't at all sensitive and you are still pretty turned on. So you keep your hand down there, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your bud.

It's not long before you feel the need to engage your hips. You start thrusting up against your fingers, but you want something more.

"I need your cock," you moan to him, partially convinced that his body is the only thing you’re missing.

"I can't even tell you how badly I want to give it to you," he responds in a dark, sultry tone. On camera, he starts to thrust up into his hand instead of just stroking it, and you think it looks absolutely amazing. You thrust your hips in time with his, but you need more.

Less-than-gracefully, you climb up onto your hands and knees, propping your phone up against your headboard. He gets a nice tall shot of you kneeling on the bed, legs spread and strings of juices hanging from your pussy, and you hear him groan something about how he loves this view.

You grab your pillow and fold it in half for extra height before tucking it between your legs and spreading your folds so that your clit rubs directly against the pillowcase. You ruthlessly hump your pillow, eyes completely trained on your phone so you don't miss a second of Hongseok's jerking.

"Christ, you're unbelievably sexy. That is so hot, _____," Hongseok groans. His hand twists the head of his cock before plunging back down the shaft, his arm muscles bulging as he quickly jerks off. You can see his cock rapidly twitching, pulsing extra hard as he approaches orgasm.

“Think about me riding you, Hongseok,” you quietly moan, trying to encourage him to climax. “Think about burying your cock in my pussy and grabbing my hips and filling me up with your cum.”

“Is that what you want?” His breathing is ragged. “You want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes, I want it,” you confess, and you know it’s the truth. You’ve fantasized about letting him fuck you raw so he can feel every inch of you as he cums. You’re dying to know what that feels like.

“Fucking Christ…” Hongseok’s hand moves a little faster, strokes a little deeper, until it’s clear that he can’t hold back anymore. “_____…”

With just a few more pumps, Hongseok finally releases, his throaty moans accompanying each rope of cum that shoots up onto his chest. Between the sounds and the visual he provides, you simply cannot handle yourself.

“Hongseok,” you murmur his name. You continue to grind against your pillow, blissfully soaking it with your juices. The delicious tension in your abdomen is too much--it's coiled too tightly and it's going to snap any second now.

Your eyes squeeze shut so you can better imagine Hongseok lying beneath you, his calloused hands grasping your waist as you rock and grind your hips.

"_____, you're perfect. Fucking perfect. Ride me, _____." He seems to play along with the fantasy in your head, inching you closer until you finally break.

Pure, blissful pleasure rushes through you like adrenaline as you orgasm, roughly dragging your clit over the cotton of your pillowcase. It takes everything in you to keep quiet, and your thighs tremble with each powerful wave.

And when you finally open your eyes, you see Hongseok watching you with so much adoration it makes you want to cry.

"That was amazing," you pant, breathing hard from the exertion of your orgasm.

"It was amazing to watch, too." Hongseok beams. "I am so attracted to you it kills me."

You collapse onto your bed, tossing your pillow aside and picking up your phone. Hongseok genuinely appears to be glowing, and you can't help but wonder if he sees you the same way. You just smile and say, "I can't wait to see you."

"Neither can I," he responds warmly. He takes a moment to wipe the cum off of his chest with a towel, and then he settles back into his bed, lying on his side and gazing sweetly at you through his phone. "I can't tell you how badly I want to kiss you right now."

"I wish you could. Man, you're such a good kisser."

“Sunday. I’ll kiss you all I want on Sunday.”

It’s weird how much you wish you could just reach through the phone and touch him, run your fingers over his cheek, brush his hair out of his eyes. Your heart pounds as your eyes skim over his face, taking in his beautiful image. He makes you feel so warm and happy. It’s undeniable that you’ve got feelings for him. And so you don’t even think twice before the words come out of your mouth: “I like you, Hongseok. I don’t care that you’re my professor. I’m done worrying about that because I just like you and I want you and that’s all there is to it.”

It’s true. One-hundred percent.

Hongseok’s smile is small and sweet, but bursting with tenderness. “I like you too, _____. I don’t care about you being my student, either. We’ll make this work for us.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering in your chest is endless, and you know this couldn’t feel more right. “We’ll make it work.”

You both stay on the line as you turn off lights and tuck into bed. Hongseok talks to you about nothing, and your mind is finally at ease as your eyelids start to become heavy with sleep. His voice is a lullaby and when you finally fall asleep, you dream of nothing but the warmth of his arms.

POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 11, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!

#ksmutclub #uninet #universe-net #hongseok smut #yang hongseok smut #pentagon smut #pentagon hongseok smut #hongseok #yang hongseok #ptg hongseok #pentagon hongseok #pentagon fanfic #pentagon fanfics #pentagon scenarios #pentagon scenario #hongseok scenario #hongseok scenarios #hongseok fanfic #hongseok fanfics

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blueaura · 4 years ago

Text

Lost and Found Ch. 5

A/N: Since I was late with the last chapter, I tried to get this one done as soon as possible. We finally get a little bit of Cas as well as some brotherly moments between Sam and Dean. Thanks to everyone who’s read it this far. As always, any tips and suggestions are welcome. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise.

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Dean found himself at the bar after he stormed out of the motel room. He was angry, which wasn’t a big surprise since anger was practically Dean Winchester’s default setting. What was a surprise was the fact that Dean was scared shitless. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of control.

Fear was a constant in Dean’s life, it wasn’t like this was a new feeling. Hell, fear kept him alert during hunts. It was healthy, even, in his profession. But this wasn’t the fear that came with hunting a monster or facing the devil. This was like the time Sam had ran away on his watch and he couldn’t find him. Or like when Dad had left him in that boys’ home with no guarantee that he was coming back. This was the kind of fear where he was completely helpless and didn’t know what to do to make things better.

He took a sip of his beer and realised he needed something way stronger if he was to compose himself before facing his brother and Y/N again.

Y/N.

He didn’t know how to deal with this new complication in his life. He remembered his time with Sandra, remembered how she had cut him off after their last time together even though they had been pretty consistent with keeping in touch before then. Could she really have hid something so big from him? His grip tightened over the bottle as anger coursed through his veins at the thought of her hiding this from him. He latched onto that anger. Anger was safe, this he knew how to handle.

“Can I get a whiskey next sweetheart? Make it a double,” he didn’t even look at the pretty bartender behind the counter, staring intently at the beer in his hand instead.

“Rough night?” she asked as she handed him a glass half filled with whiskey.

“Something like that,” he replied, taking the glass and immediately downing it in one go.

“You wanna talk about it?” she eyed him as she refilled his glass.

Dean looked at her. She was pretty, someone he would usually not think twice about taking home. In fact, on a normal night he would have already had her spread out in the backseat of baby by now. But this wasn’t a normal night, and so he ignored her ‘fuck me’ eyes and instead shook his head as he sipped on his second glass of whiskey. Better to pace himself unless he wanted to show up at the motel drunk and freak Y/N out more than she already was.

His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID – Cas. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he remembered he’d promised to call him after the case ended. Cas wasn’t taking the whole ‘being on the bench’ thing too well and was more worried than usual about Sam and Dean so they had tried to keep him updated to assuage his fear.

“Cas,” he tried to keep his voice even, “Hey man, sorry we didn’t call. We’re alright.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas always knew when Dean was bullshitting him. For someone who barely knew social cues, he was more in tune with Dean’s emotions than Dean himself was. It was freaky but he guessed it was a side effect of the whole ‘raising him from perdition’ deal.

Dean considered lying but he knew it was pointless. He sighed loudly as Cas waited for him to talk patiently. Looking around the packed bar, he decided to head out before having this conversation. Throwing a few bills on the counter to cover his drinks, he quickly thanked the bartender and walked to his car.

“It wasn’t vampires,” Dean tried to deflect. “It was a family of shifters. Y/N and I got caught and Sammy came in and saved the day.”

“Dean,” Cas said in that infuriating tone which always got on Dean’s nerves. Clearly deflection wasn’t working.

“Sammy is under the impression that I may have a daughter,” Dean blurted out quickly.

Cas was silent for a moment, taking in what Dean was saying.

“Well, is it such a surprise? You engage in a lot of sexual activity from what I’ve heard,” Dean didn’t know if Cas was joking or just being Cas.

“Dude, seriously, what the hell! Why does everyone think I’m stupid enough to forget a condom? I’m not irresponsible!”

“You do realise that no protection is a 100% effective Dean,” Cas sounded amused, “But, who is the girl you think you fathered?”

“Not me, Sammy,” Dean growled out.

Cas waited.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N,” Dean finally mumbled.

“The hunter you met on the case?” Cas was surprised. “That doesn’t seem odd to you? Meeting a hunter who is potentially your offspring on a case, while we’re supposed to be dealing with the darkness?”

Dean paused. “You think this is what – some kind of a trick?”

“It does seem like too much of a coincidence, Dean, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said after considering the situation. “And even if it is, Y/N is not involved. There is just no way. She was more shocked when Sam said it than I was. Unless she’s the best teenage actress on the entire fucking planet, there’s no way you fake a reaction as strong as that.”

Perhaps the intensity in his voice surprised Cas, because he didn’t say anything for a long time while Dean got his anger in check. He didn’t care who he was to her, he was already protective over the kid. The thought of her being used for some plot against them set his blood on fire. He wouldn’t lose anyone like he did Charlie ever again – never.

“I didn’t say the child was involved, Dean,” Cas said slowly, as if scared of incurring Dean’s wrath. “I only meant to bring up the possibility that if anyone on either side knew about her, the child might be in danger. Be careful. Please.”

Dean calmed down immediately at that. Cas was just looking out for him, like he always did.

“I don’t know how anyone could have known. Hell, I don’t even actually know yet. It’s just speculation, Cas. It’s not like we can waltz in and get a paternity test. I’m supposed to be legally dead.”

He had hated when the kid had pointed it out, but she made sense.

“If I could perhaps see the child, get a good look at her soul, I would be able to confirm it for you,” Cas said thoughtfully. He knew Dean’s soul like the back of his hand. He would recognise a piece of it anywhere.

“Alright, one – stop calling her ‘child’ Cas, she’s not a toddler. And B, you’re still recovering. You need to concentrate on healing. We can live a few more days without knowing.”

“This is something I can do Dean. Let me. It doesn’t require me exerting myself and it would help you. Bring her to the bunker, I’ll be here.”

Dean knew Cas wouldn’t budge. He detested ‘not being useful’.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Sam and Y/N about it and we’ll head your way if she decides to join us,” he conceded.

“What? No, Dean. You need to bring her here. She could be in danger,” Cas stressed out.

“I’ll figure something out. I can’t force her to come or she’ll never trust me again Cas. Kid’s already hesitant to accept help. If we rush her, we’ll lose her for good.”

Dean wasn’t happy about it, but he knew better than to push her. He remembered kids at his short stint in the boy’s home, how guarded they were. He knew she’d had it worse and it killed him to think about it, so he pushed it to the back if his mind.

“Alright Dean. See you soon then,” Cas said.

“Yeah buddy. You rest up, alright? If we’re going to do this, you need to regain your strength first.”

“Bye Dean.”

He hung up as he was pulling up outside the motel. After parking the car, he walked to their room for the night hoping to take a shower. He hadn’t been able to after the hunt and had received more than a couple of odd looks at his appearance while at the bar. Still made an impression on the bartender, he thought smugly, opening the door and then promptly freezing at the sight in front of him.

Y/N was sleeping with her head in Sam’s lap as he sat next to her, still stroking her hair. She had clearly been crying and even Sam’s eyes looked a little red.

Sam looked up when the door opened, his hand immediately going for his gun before he saw Dean and relaxed. He looked at Y/N and gently lifted her head, placing it on the pillow, before motioning to Dean to step back outside.

“What the hell happened,” Dean immediately snapped at his brother as soon as the door closed behind them. Sam took a laboured breath, not reacting to Dean’s anger.

“We talked. She’s scared Dean. I don’t know what exactly happened in her life but it was bad. Bad enough that she hyperventilated at the thought of having to go to school. And not in the normal teen angst kind of way. It was – She’s had it rough, man.”

Dean pulled at his hair. “How am I supposed to fix this, Sammy? I don’t know the first thing about being a dad! Let’s be honest, we didn’t have the greatest example of one.”

Sam was surprised. Dean usually didn’t admit Dad’s faults. He watched as Dean paced in the corridor.

“A daughter, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as he finally allowed himself to feel the overwhelming panic that he’d been pushing down the entire night.

“Dean? Hey! De, calm down,” Sam gripped his shoulders, making him stop.

“What the hell are you talking about man? You practically raised me! It’s gonna be a challenge and you’re probably gonna screw up along the way but you’re gonna do right by that kid. I know this because I know you. I know how good you are at this because I saw it first-hand. We’re gonna figure this out and we’re gonna do it together – like we always do.”

Sam didn’t remember the last time his brother had let himself be this vulnerable in front of him. Dean had always been the rock, the adult. He watched as Dean slowly got himself under control and patted his neck to assure him that he wasn’t alone. Dean nodded, getting rid of the remaining anxiety in his body. He could do this. He had to. He’d missed out on fifteen years already.

“We need to take her to the bunker with us. Tell me you managed to get through to her?” Dean almost pleaded with Sam.

“I don’t know man. I tried, and I think I made some headway but I don’t know if she’s gonna agree to come with us so soon.”

Sam didn’t get the urgency in Dean’s expression and figured there was probably more to the story. So, he asked him.

“Cas thinks she might be in danger. That it wasn’t just a coincidence that we found her on the same hunt as us. Sammy, if anyone got wind of this…” Dean trailed off as a look of absolute terror came over his face. Sam felt the fear in his bones too, but for once he had to be the rock. So, he steeled himself and gripped Dean’s shoulder tighter, grounding him.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll keep her safe,” he promised.

“Keep me safe from what?”

Dean looked behind Sam and saw Y/N standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at them for an answer.

Dean looked back at his brother and his face reflected the same thought that was currently running through Dean’s head. Shit. Chapter 6

TAGS:

@vicmc624 @buttercookiemachoman @carisi-sonny @zizzlekwum @geekqueen5 @mondefantastique

If anyone else would like to be tagged, please send me an ask (: Thanks for reading!

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader #castiel x reader #platonic relationships #Cee tries to write

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years ago

Text

Positive Part 2 || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: I’ve had a good portion of this draft sitting around for months but I absolutely hated it. Finally was able to rework it into something I like a little bit better so hopefully, you all enjoy it as well. Before you ask I have no idea where this could go from here so if you have any thoughts, send them my way.

Warnings: cursing, more angst

Word Count: 1,692

~~~~~~~

Pregnant. You were really pregnant.

The weight of that word crushed down on you and a fresh set of sobs overtook your body. This couldn’t be real...except it was. While you were normally a very level headed person, it was like your brain had shut down entirely and all you could do was sob into Kristen’s shoulder as she pulled you into her arms. You were so lost that you completely missed what had happened next.

Jimmy Hayes walked through the door. He spotted his wife holding a sobbing woman. He stepped closer out of concern and his eyes fell to the pregnancy tests. When he looked back at his wife she was mouthing two words to him ‘call Kevin’. It was only then that he realized who the crying woman was and the mess that he had just walked into and he nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he headed to the backyard. All it had taken was the utterance of your name and the statement that Kevin needed to come home for an agreement to be made. It didn’t matter that Kevin was halfway across the country. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to play a game that night. None of that mattered because you needed him to come home.

As you attempted to pull yourself together, thanking Kristen but stating that you needed to be alone for a little while, you had no idea that Kevin had called his coach about a family emergency before booking a flight to Boston. As you stumbled into your apartment knowing that nothing would ever be the same again, you had no idea that Kevin was on his way to you, worried about what possibly could have happened to cause his brother to call him in a panic. As you climbed into the shower because your efforts of falling asleep to wake and find that this was all a dream had failed, you had no idea that Kevin was pacing back and forth in the living room of his brother’s house becoming frustrated by the lack of information he was being given. And as you threw on an old rangers sweatshirt that had once belonged to Kevin, you had no idea that the man himself was standing outside your door.

And then he knocked.

The sound startled you and you sighed wondering who the hell would be at your door this late. Throwing it open you had every intention of telling whoever it was to go the hell away because you weren’t in the mood. Instead, your eyes were met with the familiar frame of someone that you had considered one of your closest friends, someone who was supposed to be anywhere but here, someone who had turned your life upside down. Immediately, your eyes started to water because it seemed like all you could do lately was cry, but you quickly pushed the tears away, a neutral expression settling onto your face. As you battled your emotions, Kevin pushed his way inside your apartment, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Seeing him just waltz in sparked a wave of anger inside you and you practically growled at him.

“What the hell are you doing here Kevin?”

“Jim called me,” Kevin stated. “Told me I needed to come home because you needed me but wouldn’t tell me why. So care to enlighten me?” His tone held just a bit too much snark for your brain to handle and you cursed Kevin’s family for pulling him into this.

“Well, I don’t need you so you can go back to your team.” You snapped. “I didn’t ask him to call you.” You added, now cursing yourself for turning to Kevin’s family in the first place.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Kevin threw back, his frustration now seeping through. You could feel his heavy gaze but were oblivious to the fact that his brain was quickly making note of the fact that you were wearing his sweatshirt, you appeared paler than usual, and you’d clearly been crying recently. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, you’ve obviously been crying, and my brother and sister-in-law could only give me pity eyes while refusing to tell me what the hell was going on other than that you’d been there earlier. So please fucking tell me what the hell is going on Y/N!”

The sound of his raised voice caused a fresh set of tears to form in your eyes but you quickly shook your head, once again pushing them back.

“Get out Kevin.” You stated, voice low but serious. “Just go.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” Kevin demanded, his body crowding forward to trap you against the back of the couch. Shoving at his chest you cursed him.

“Kevin. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” You repeated, too afraid of getting hurt and too hormonal to open up to him.

Kevin pulled away and for a moment you thought he was actually going to leave before he paused in the middle of your living room.

“Fuck, fine. If you aren’t going to talk to me then you can just fucking listen.” His fingers raked through his hair as he paced. “You know...since you’re the one that decided the conversation was over before...it’s my turn. Fuck...I never should have let you leave. I just...I couldn’t believe it.” Kevin’s tone slowly started shifting from angry to vulnerable to resigned.

“I thought you knew. The trip, the date, that night, my proposition....how could you not know that I love you.” He mumbled. “Everyone else knows that I love you. That I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I know I’m shitty at expressing it but I could have sworn that by Sunday night you knew and felt the same way. I’ve been kicking myself for not stopping you...for not making you see. You said it was a mistake because I don’t love you the way you love me. But Y/N I’m pretty sure I do. But if you want me to go I’ll go. I just...I can’t leave without making sure you knew. I love you. So this not working...that’s on you, not me. Because I was willing to do whatever it takes.”

You couldn’t recall ever hearing Kevin say so much in one sitting, and you’d certainly never seen him so vulnerable. With your brain overwhelmed by the emotional dump he’d just done on you, you didn’t even realize he was gone until you heard the click of the door.

Without even realizing it, you were racing out after him two words quickly falling from your lips and echoing down the hall.

“I’m pregnant.”

For a moment you worried that he hadn’t heard you. But then you watched him stop in the middle of the hallway. His fingers ran through his hair. Your eyes fell closed not wanting to see him walk out of your life completely even though you wouldn’t have blamed him in the slightest. They stayed closed until the weight of a warm hand fell to your hip and a feather-light touch brushed against your cheek. Peeking up, your eyes met his which were filled with nothing but warmth even as tears fell from them.

“Oh thank god.” Kevin eventually murmured and the fact that those were the first words to come out of his mouth took you by complete surprise.

“What?” You questioned, as you reached up to tangle your fingers in the fabric of Kevin’s shirt afraid that he would just disappear if you didn’t hold on tight.

“I said, oh thank god,” Kevin repeated, a prideful smirk growing on his face. “I’m not gonna be upset that you’re having my baby sweetheart. Jim had me fearing that something was actually wrong. This...this isn’t a problem...this is a blessing.” Kevin’s reaction had you feeling like you had whiplash because it was completely opposite to how you were feeling. Your body frozen in place, Kevin took two steps forward, ushering you back through your apartment door before turning and pinning you against it. His thumb brushed over your cheek again and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna be a dad.” He murmured, the hand that had been on your face dropping down to caress your stomach lightly. Though you swore you couldn’t possibly have any more tears to cry, suddenly your cheeks were wet again. Why you were crying you couldn’t even express but it seemed to be the only way your brain could cope with all of this.

“Shh…” Kevin whispered, attempting to soothe you. The rollercoaster of emotion from the past fifteen minutes seemed to finally get the best of you when you felt your stomach twist for the nth time in the past week or so. Throwing a hand over your mouth, you pushed Kevin aside and bolted for the toilet, kneeling over it while bile made its way out of your body.

Almost immediately, a warm hand fell to your back, rubbing gently until you had finished puking before guiding you into a strong chest as you continued to cry.

“Sweetheart...we’ll figure all of this out.” He insisted. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” When you still couldn’t stop crying, Kevin lifted you into his arms and carefully carried you back to your bedroom, laying you down and pulling you onto his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whimpered, clinging to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, tilting your chin up to press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. You were certain it had to be gross because you hadn’t brushed your teeth since vomiting, but Kevin didn’t seem to mind, instead just whispering softly to you about how excited he was, how much he loves you and how sorry he was for not just saying it earlier.

It was with his voice in your ear, his body below you, and his hand on your stomach that you finally cried yourself to sleep, praying that tomorrow you’d feel better.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #philadelphia flyers imagine #philadelphia flyers #pflyers #027

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loser-writings · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request SFW alphabet for Shoto please? Thank you! I only found your blog recently but I really enjoy your writing!

Awe thank you so much for the kind words! I hope this is good enough!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Shoto is surprisingly affectionate once you break down his walls. He won’t be affectionate at first, the most he would do is hold your hand, but after a while he becomes like a koala.

His favorite forms of affection are hand holding, hugs, and kisses on the cheek/forehead. All are very comforting and sweet in his opinion, and will never fail to make his cheeks turn a little pink.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He may not seem like best friend material, but god he is one of the best people to be friends with.

He may not be the BEST at comforting you when you are upset, but he can keep himself calm enough to help you. He is the kind of best friend that believes in platonic affection, so hugs and cuddling are guaranteed. Especially when you are upset.

Also can be a bit of a crackhead. Like you WILL have cursed images of him on your phone. Shit like blurry pictures of him chasing you or him just standing in the dark.

Don’t be surprised if you get a text late at night asking if you want to go on a walk or go out to eat. He struggles with his emotions and the last thing he wants to be is alone when he is upset. Don’t really press him about what’s going on because it’ll stress him more, but give him time and support. He will open up slowly.

Will spoil you and bring you on trips with him. Hell, Natsuo and Fuyumi have pretty much adopted you and he might even take you to meet his mom.

Once you get him out of his shell, you’ll realize that he absolutely loves to dance with you. Now he may not be good at it, but he knows all of the popular tiktok dances. Also He has one of Denki’s playlists saved on his phone, so it isn’t unusual to find him listening or dancing to shit like “Shooting stars” by Bag Raiders.

Also never dare him to do something. He is the kind of guy that will go “Fucking Bet?” before doing exactly what you told him to do. It has resulted in some great stories, and horrible talks with Aizawa.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He fucking loves to cuddle. Cuddling is his life honestly. I think everybody agrees that he is touch starved, so he will honestly take everything he gets. He will cuddle with his friends when they are having a bad day (It isn’t unusual to find him with Midoriya on the couch while studying or watching a movie) and he will cuddle with a S/o everywhere.

He really will cuddle in any position. Sling his arm around you, spoon you, hug you from behind, it’s all good to him. If he had to pick, he loves when his S/O or his friends lay against his chest. He will play with their hair and rub their backs until they fall asleep. It makes him feel loved and cared for.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He would love to settle down and have a family one day despite his fear of being like his father. He has come to terms with the fact that he is NOT Enji and will be a good father one day.

He can clean fairly well and he can cook a little bit. Now he isn’t a chef by any means, but he can cook thanks to Fuyumi teaching him the basics. If you can’t cook, don’t worry. He’s got you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It depends on the reason why he is breaking up with his partner.

If it’s because life is getting in the way and him being a hero is getting in the way of your dreams, he will be very understanding. Yeah he would be hurt and be upset, but he wants what's best for you. If he is making you unhappy, then he will try to just be a good friend instead. He may even have hopes to get back with you in the future.

If it is because he simply lost feelings, he will be so gentle about it. He will sit you down and hold your hands as he explains that he thinks that you both should just be friends. If you don’t want to be friends with him, he truly understands that too and will try to stay out of your life, but if you agree to just be friends then he will do his best to be a good friend for you.

If it is because he found out you were cheating on him or lying to him about something big (like being part of the LoV) then he wouldn’t be nice about it. His emotions would overwhelm him and it could easily become a mess. He will feel betrayed and it shows in his voice. He also hardly screams, but he would yell and scream at you to try to get you to understand that he trusted you, and you hurt him like this. You are his everything, well...were his everything. And you did this to him? He would most likely leave in a fit of pure anger and never come back.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is a bit worried about marriage but after talking it through with his mother, he thinks that he would be okay with getting married one day.

It would take a few years before he proposed to you, but he will make the proposal amazing and spill his heart to you. He will express how thankful he is that you stayed by his side through everything and would love to have you there for the rest of his life.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is so gentle? Maybe it’s because of his past and his fears of becoming like his father, but he is very careful about what he says. He pays attention to your reactions and will quickly note if you flinch or look uncomfortable, and will ask you about it when you’re in private. He also will NEVER use something you have told him against you. You trust him, and he will never betray that trust.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As stated before, he loves hugs since he thinks they are so comforting. He may be a little hesitant at first, but would slowly melt into the hug. If he is more used to affection, then seriously just wrap your arms around him. He won’t complain at all.

He gives very firm hugs. He doesn’t do that side hug bullshit, and really gives his all in a hug. Sometimes they will be short and firm, but other times his hugs just sort of melt. They will be firm at first but he will slowly relax and just hold you in his arms. He might even lean his head on top of yours, or on your shoulder.

Also he has no preference for wrapping his arms around your neck or your waist. He is more likely to hide in his arms if he hugs around your neck though. He can still be a bit bashful with hugs.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?).

He blurts it out randomly. Like it’s been maybe 1-3 months in your relationship and you invite him over to enjoy dinner with you. You let him in your apartment before retreating to the kitchen to finish up the meal. It isn’t until he is holding the plate in his hand when he just melts, blurting out that he loves you out of the blue. It might catch you off guard and make you choke on your food, but after you ask him to repeat himself, he would just grin and kiss you on the cheek. “I love you” He would say softly before he started to eat, eyes suddenly glued to the random show or movie you had playing before he came in.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He tries not to get jealous and he is okay for the most part, but sometimes you can be oblivious to somebody's actions. Like when Denki flirts with you. He does his best to stay calm because he KNOWS that you can handle yourself, but sometimes he can’t help but feel the jealousy bubbling in his chest.

He will glare for a while and if that doesn’t work, he will get up and hug your from behind. Even though he is quite shameless when it comes to PDA, he wouldn’t just start making out with you since he thinks it would be disrespectful. He doesn’t mind stealing your attention away through a hug though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Originally his kisses were a bit sloppy due to inexperience, but he is a quick learner. He loves to give soft kisses. The kind of kiss that takes your breath away. His hands will either cup your cheeks to keep you close or will pull you closer by your waist. They are clearly full of emotion and he thinks they are a great way of showing you how much he loves you.

Even though he likes to kiss you on the lips, forehead kisses and cheek kisses are his absolute favorite. Kiss his cheek or kiss his head when he is starting to panic so he focuses on that instead. He will blush and get a little bashful, even hiding his face behind his hand if he starts to blush too much.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He will be a bit stiff and awkward at first, but kids seem to naturally like him. He has a lot of patience and will humor them. It’s honestly pretty sweet seeing these little kids drag him around. Also they are in complete awe when he makes ice sculptures.

Since babies seem to be little heaters, he will hold them against his right side so they are comfortable. He honestly finds himself really enjoying holding a baby in his arms, and will find himself daydreaming about holding a child of his own one day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depends on if you are a morning person or not. I’d say the latest that he would sleep is maybe 8 or 9 in the morning, but some days he gets up as early as 4 or 5.

If you wake up before him, please make him breakfast. He will absolutely melt since you thought of him and if he catches you in the middle of making it, he will wrap his arms around your waist and hold you. He will mumble a quick “Mornin” and whine softly when you try to pull away since he loves to hold you so much.

If he wakes up before you, he might sit for a moment and just admire how calm you look. The stress of the world can’t seem to get you when you sleep, and he loves seeing you look so calm. After a while, he will get up to shower before making you breakfast. If you walk in while he is cooking, you might find him dancing along to some music playing from his phone. He won’t hesitate to pull you in his arms to dance with you, but sometimes it does result in burned food.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are usually fairly calm and comforting. Depending on how Shotos’ day went, he may be a bit clingier than usual. (Which says a lot) He isn’t the type to vent since he bottles it up, but you can coax it out of him slowly. Just don’t be aggressive about it.

If he had a better day, then he might just ask to watch a show or movie with you, eat dinner, and cuddle for the rest of the night. He really just loves your affection and will melt when you are with him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He would be pretty closed off since he just isn’t comfortable telling you about everything yet. He would start opening up after he said that he loved you, but thats because he really has to trust somebody in order to love them.

He really starts opening up about 6 months in and by 1 year, you could ask him almost anything and he will tell you honestly. (1 year is around how long it would take him to introduce him to his mother)

You would really get a lot of the information through context clues in Shotos words, but there will be one day where he sits you down and tells you everything. About Touya, his scar, his mother, his father, everything.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is pretty patient and doesn’t get angry easily. His problem is that he will bottle up his emotions until he just explodes or shuts off completely. If he does blow up at you, he will be very quick to apologize since he feels guilty about lashing out. He will hold you close, wipe away any tears, and then start talking about how he is feeling.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He is very observant when it comes to you, and he is always listening to what you say. He remembers all of the major dates in your relationship as well as the dates in your personal life. Usually he will pull out his phone and put a reminder in his calendar if you say you are going to do something, just to be safe.

He also remembers important things like touchy subjects, triggers, and ways to comfort you. You have an old stuffed animal or blanket that brings you comfort? He will be quick to grab it when you panic. Having a down day? Let him take you out to your favorite fast food place. He already knows your order. Forgot to take your medicine? Don’t panic, he will remind you to take it tomorrow.

Also has a section in his phone dedicated to things you like. He never shows it to you, and his friends tease him about it, but it has little notes. All of your orders from restaurants, how you like your coffee/tea, Favorite color and animal, even musicians you like in case one decides to tour.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He has many choices to pick from honestly since you seem to take his breath away so often, but he wouldn’t be able to choose between 2 moments.

The day you stood against his father and yelled at him, calling him out on his abusive behavior, would always be one of Shotos’ favorites. Seeing you standing your ground against the man was something admirable since you were very aware of Enjis’ status and power, yet you laid it all on the line to protect Shoto. The fight ended with you leaving with Shoto, both of you a little shaken. It would be silent until Shoto told you that standing up to him was stupid and that you could’ve gotten hurt, but your response still makes him smile. “He should understand that you aren’t an object. You are a fucking person and you get to choose what you do, and I know you can do anything you put your mind to.”

The other choice would be the day he introduced you to his mother. He really hoped that she would quickly see why he loved you so much, and he found himself relaxing the whole time you and his mother talked. His hand never left yours and the little glances he gave you made it clear to her that you had broken through to her son. When Shoto excused himself for a moment to go to the restroom, she was quick to thank you for helping him come out of his shell. When he came back, you both seemed to be close to tears but refused to explain why, just smiling at each other before starting a conversation about something else.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Of course he is protective. He is TERRIFIED that something will happen to you because of his career as a Pro Hero. It’s only natural for villains to target you since it would be an easier way to get to him.He won’t lie, he is also a bit afraid of his father since he knows how bad he can be. Sure, Enji may be trying to have some sort of redemption arch, but that man can snap and Shoto has been on the receiving end way too many times. He is afraid that he will come for you.

He will try to convince you to train with him a bit. At least to teach you some self defense. He will teach you basic things and makes sure that you can protect yourself. Once you learn, he will be much more calm about leaving you.

Also he will call you when he is away just to check in. He can be a bit like a concerned parent making sure their kid hasn’t done something stupid, but it eases his mind so you most likely play along.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

God does this man try. When you both start dating, he may try a bit too hard to impress you and be romantic. Wearing suits to a date at your house, getting big gifts for you, and planning expensive dates. It can be h=overwhelming! As time goes on, he will relax and figure out things that you like to do.

That being said, he still tries extremely hard. He loves surprising you with a small gift here and there, but he also learns that he doesn’t have to woo you with expensive things. If he hears you casually mention that you want to go do something, well then he will plan to surprise you with a date doing whatever you want.

He also is willing to go out of his comfort zone in order to make you happy. Doing things like dancing at clubs or going to a cosplay convention may involve being around a lot of people, but he would do it for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He doesn’t vocalize how he is feeling and bottles his emotions which can result in some very explosive arguments. You can usually realize when things are getting to him since he tends to distance himself a bit. He doesn’t mean to, but sometimes life can be too much for him and he isolates to cope with it.

He may not be the best with understanding emotions either. Are you seriously upset because somebody got eliminated on a TV show? I mean okay but you should’ve seen it coming. Somebody died in an anime or manga so you are pissed? You do know it’s fictional right? I mean okay then he won’t judge you too much over it. Somebody complimented the shoes you were wearing and now you seem happier than usual? Well shit he might start throwing random compliments at you to make you smile then.

TLDR: He uses logic more than emotion, so he struggles to understand emotions.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn’t concerned about them really, but he can get insecure. Like if he isn’t going to pop off if somebody messes up his hair, it's just hair, and he isn’t going to be pissed if his clothes are ruined. He only gets insecure about his scar since it scares kids sometimes and makes him feel gross.

He usually gets insecure after seeing a picture of him or seeing himself in the mirror. The worst one was a youtube video he watched called “Removing the scars from Pro-Heroes” since they made the scar on his face completely disappear. He wishes that he could just have it disappear like that.

Best way to fix this is by distracting him since talking about it doesn’t really do anything to help. Attack his face with kisses or convince him to dance with you. Just do something that can get his attention away from himself and he will feel better.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. There is no other way of saying it but of course he would. You got him to come out of his shell so if you had died or left him, he would be so lost.

If you had a bad break up, he would go back to how he used to be. He would be cold, distant, and he would refuse to open up to anybody about what happened. He honestly would use his right side more often since its so cold, and the cold is comforting to him.

If you had died, he would be lost. He would know that you would want him to keep going, but he would most likely take a break from hero work. Instead he would focus on giving you a proper burial and then would focus on coping. He wouldn’t be cold to his friends and he wouldn’t shut them out, but he would express that he wants to be alone for a while.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, but refuses to get drunk. He may drink about half of a cup of wine, but the second his head starts to ache or his fingers start to tingle, he is done. The one time he got drunk, he cried for hours and rambled about a ton of bullshit. He is a crying drunk and can’t keep his thoughts to himself. To fix that, he just doesn’t drink.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Don’t yell at him. It could make him cry, but it’s more likely that he will get furious and blow up even more. He hates being yelled at since that was pretty much the only way his father talked to him.

Don’t EVER play the one up game with him. It will piss him off so fast. He especially hates the “My life is worse than yours so pity me” Game that some people will play in order to manipulate others. He will call them out on their shit.

Don’t ever rush him or push him past his limits. He may go out of his comfort zone, but he has his limits and REFUSES to go past them. He had spent way too long pushing past his limits to please his father. He will start a fight over this too since his comfort actually has value to him now. He knows his worth and refuses to devalue himself.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleeping habit of theirs?)

He is actually quite the night owl and easily mixes up his days and nights. He always liked night more than day since the night is when things are quiet. He would explain to you that when he was younger, he would try to stay up at night since that was the calmest he would be. His father would be asleep, so he had the time to himself. He had nobody to impress, nobody to judge him, and nobody to disappoint. He could always be himself when the moon came out, so he grew up thriving when the sun went down.

He never really dreams either? He just says that the last thing he sees before falling asleep is black and then his eyes open up. There is no mini movie that plays in his brain when he sleeps. If he does dream, it will be a nightmare. A memory of his past with Enji or a scenario he has thought of a thousand times. He will wake up, drastically different temperatures of sweat dripping down his body. If you wake up with him, calmly bring him in your arms. He may not fall asleep right away but you holding him is enough to ground him and bring him back to reality. If you stay asleep, he will cling to you, holding you like a child would hold a teddy bear, before slowly falling asleep.

#shoto torodoki #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha alphabet #todoroki #Todoroki alphabet #Shoto todoroki alphabet #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha imagine #bnha alphabet #sfw alphabet #todoroki imagine #todoroki headcanons #shoto todoroki imagine #shoto todoroki headcanons

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autisticsupervillain · 4 years ago

Text

The Makara Sisters

Ladies and gentlemen, it's finally here. My villainstuck Calliope post. @icedreaper I certainly hope you enjoy my friend.

Now this. This provides me with a fascinating challenge. How do you corrupt someone who is inherently good? Calliope is the heroic half of Caliborn. That seems as close to incorruptible as you can be in the Homestuck multiverse. Well, Calliope is about to learn that good is a very subjective term. The road to hell is paved with good intentions after all.

Our tale begins on Earth C. Calliope had moved in next to Roxy, as she was one of the people she knew best. Calliope is still a bit of a fangirl and casually rooming up with the people she idolized is kinda overwhelming for her. As such, she spends most of her time with Roxy and her friends. It’s not until years later that she gets to have another long conversation with any of the Beta Kids.

It happens during a party. The 5 year anniversary of the day the kids beat the game. Roxy had voided up all the necessities, with a little help from Jane for reference. That night, Calliope sees Dave sitting at a table completely smashed. Calliope asks if he’s doing alright and immediately sees through Dave’s bullshit when he insists he is. Calliope is best friends with Roxy. She knows what grief drinking looks like at this point and that’s exactly what Dave is doing. If he were sober, Dave would be able to keep his mask on and brush of Calliope's concern. But, he’s completely hammered, so he starts running his mouth. Dave admits that, while he was setting up the speakers and trying to get the music to sound right, Dirk surprised him.

The way Dirk was dressed, with his hat and his shades, and with how much he’d grown over the years, for a minute, Dirk looked a lot like Bro. Dave freezes up and flashes back for a minute before Dirk snap him out of it. Dirk comforts Dave about it as Dave vents his heart out at him for a bit. Basically retreading the conversation from when Dave gives him that big hug. Bro’s abuse still happened and that still creeps in sometimes. So, it’s good that the Striders can have these conversations. After a few cracks at how “fucked in the head" they are, the Striders begin pondering their counterparts. More specifically, Alpha Dave. Dave speculates that Alpha Dave was who he would’ve grown up to be if he didn’t have John, Rose, and Jade to lean on. Of course, sense Dirk doesn’t really know him well enough to define Alpha Dave as a person, that doesn’t really clear anything up. That just leaves the uncomfortable question of what a Dave without friends would’ve looked like. Especially with the way Bro turned out.

Soon the party started, and Dirk advised Dave to have fun and take his mind off it. Dave tries, but finds he can’t. It’s eating at him more than it should and he decides to go for a drink. One drink turns to several and then Calliope showed up.

At the end of his drunken ramble, Calliope expresses her sympathy. While she doesn’t know Dave very well, she knows someone in a similar situation to Alpha Dave. She mentions her God-Tier counterpart and reassures Dave that, while Calliope did become a much colder person, she did not become a bad one. Dave is a good person at heart and Calliope assures him that he always will be, regardless of what happens. That’s when Dirk and Rose show up. Dirk thanks Calliope for comforting Dave and explains that he figured something like this would happen and went to fetch Rose to help. Calliope watches them drag Dave home so they could talk to him in private before returning to the party.

The next day, Dave invites Calliope over and thanks her for giving him someone to lean on. The two start visiting regularly and they quickly become friends. They talk about their alternate selves often and Dave eventually mentions that he would’ve liked to meet his Alpha counterpart, if only to put his fears to rest. When Calliope asks if he’s ever discussed this with Dirk, Dave says that it’d be awkward. Bro was a terrible person and all it’d do is make Dirk feel worse about himself. So, Calliope just suggests asking John to let him visit Alpha Dave and Dave goes quiet. He takes a deep breath, figuring that he’s already dumped a lot on Calliope as it is, so there’s no backing out now. He admits that he’s scared to see what his Alpha counterpart is like. Dave has quite a few flaws himself and given how Dirk turned out…

Calliope mentions Davesprite, who had a nasty life himself but still turned out to be a good person, but Dave still remains hesitant. He clams up and Calliope admits that this is probably a conversation he should have with Rose or Dirk. Calliope apologizes for making her company awkward but Dave still thanks her as she leaves. He needed a fresh set of eyes to look at his issues before he began talking them out with his closer friends.

After a few days of stewing on the issue, Dave finally calls up Rose to have a chat with her. Rose brings up a lot of the same points Calliope and ultimately gets to the root of where this new issue comes from. Now that Dave has had time to process how harmful most of what he’s been raised on actually is, he’s worried about how it’s effected him as a person. Basically, he’s worried he might end up as a terrible person because Bro was a terrible person and that constant fear of failure that Bro’s abuse instilled in him is keeping him from just dissipating these feelings logically. Sure, Dave knows he’s not a bad person. He knows, logically, that he’s just a kid trying his best to be a good person. But, Bro instilled a bunch of self loathing in him by constantly beating the shit out of him when he was a kid. That doesn’t just go away. Rose is smart and she knows Dave well enough to comfort him, but she’s not the psychoanalytical genius she used to think she was. The only advice she can give him is from the heart. So, she admits that Dave venting to her was a good first step. But the only one who will know whether or not meeting Alpha Dave will help or not is him. All she can do is listen to and support him. It’s up to Dave to decide if he thinks that will be enough.

A few more days of contemplation later, Dave approaches John and asks him to help meet Alpha Dave.

The two Dave’s talk for awhile, after Alpha Dave calms down from seeing two young men in pajamas spontaneously appear right in front of him. Alpha Dave sympathizes with the younger Strider once he’s all caught up and admits that he didn’t have the best life growing up either. So that’s why he’s being earnest when he says that Dave’s handling it the best he can. Your upbringing doesn’t define you, you define you. And Dave has defined himself a good person who loves his friends and is working hard to work through his trauma. After a big hug, Alpha Dave asks if he could meet Dirk and Davesprite.

On the day of Dirk’ birthday party, Dirk is greeted at home by three Daves instead of two. Cue Strider group hug.

After a long party, Alpha Dave expresses how happy he is to have finally met Dirk. He expresses how happy he is to see two versions of himself grew up to get happy endings and shows how proud he is in Dirk. Even if he’s destined to die, he can die happy knowing that his little bro grows up happy.

Calliope gets caught up by John about the goings on after Alpha Dave returns to his own timeline. She’s happy to know that she helped the Striders, indirectly or otherwise, and Dirk thanks her for giving him the happiest party of his life.

After everything winds down and people start turning in for the night, Calliope thoughts return to God-Tier Calliope, thanks to Alpha Dave reminding her of her. She contemplates if getting to see Earth C and make friends like she did would make her happier.

She waits a few months before asking John for help again, letting him cool off from all the time traveling, partying, and emotional catharsis. She asks him to take her to wear the Green Sun used to be so she can grab God-Tier Calliope’s body and bring her back to be revived by Jane.

God-Tier Calliope is very put off by her new surroundings. A massive, life filled world, filled with other sentient, sapient life forms. She has a hard time opening up and she always comes off as distant next to her counterpart. Not unpleasant, just cold.

She tries to open. Tries to make friends. Calliope insists that this is what made her happy. But it just doesn’t click. Calliope ponders the problem over before coming to a realization. All the ways she was able to contact her human friends. All the technology. All the toys. That had to be given to her by someone. Both Calliopes have vague memories of someone caring for them when they were younger… but they just couldn’t remember who.

So, Calliope asks John for another big favor in order to find out who raised her. When the two find out it was Gamzee, Calliope is ecstatic to have a father figure like what Jane and John had, only for John to cough awkwardly and elaborate who Gamzee actually is. John doesn’t know all the details himself, but he does know that Gamzee apparently killed some of Karkat’s friends and attempted some more horrible stuff. Calliope is distraught but John can’t give any more details. Neither Karkat or Vriska like to talk about it. Dejected, Calliope and John return where Calliope briefs her God-Tier counterpart on the situation.

So, God-Tier Calliope just teleports over to Karkat and bluntly asks about Gamzee. The naked, showering Karkat proceeds to screech his lungs out.

After patiently waiting out Karkat’s tantrum, Calliope clarifies that Gamzee may have been her father. Karkat pauses before shoeing her out of the room so he can finish his shower.

Then John teleports in to warn him about Calliope and Karkat screeches again.

After Karkat finally wraps up and gets dressed, he and John sit down with the Calliopes to explain. John questions whether or not he should be a part of this, but Karkat insists. Honesty is the backbone of a healthy relationship and the Gamzee thing has been eating at him for awhile now. Karkat explains that Gamzee was one of his best friends, even if he didn’t always treat him like it. Which is something that Karkat regrets seeing how he snapped and started murdering people. Karkat would’ve tried to calm him down, stop him, but that plan got shunted aside thanks to the retcon. Karkat goes into self loathing mode, he doesn’t even know why Gamzee started killing people and he blames himself for that. Calliope reassures him and John helps pull him out of his funk while God-Tier Calliope just bluntly asks when and how Gamzee raised her. Karkat admits that he has no idea and that he doesn’t know where to find him now. All he can confirm is that he’s still alive. God-Tier Calliope leaves the conversation at that point, allowing her mortal counterpart to catch up with her later.

Calliope asks about her chilly demeanor and God-Tier Calliope still admits that she doesn’t still fully get this friendship thing. She can see that there’s something there between her counterpart and her friends, but she doesn’t fully get it. She just can’t feel it. After all, she’s a healthy Cherub and Cherubs don’t have friends. Regardless, Calliope tries to help give her a push in the right direction with some nicknames. From now on, everyone will refer to God-Tier Calliope as Callie, calling back to Roxy's nickname. After all, Calliope loved it when she was befriending Roxy, so surely it’ll grow on Callie.

Calliope and Callie start scouring the globe for Gamzee’s refrigerator. However, Jake ends up being the one to find it. Callie coldly thanks Jake for his assistance and awkwardly hugs him. She almost crushes his ribs, but it’s the thought that counts. Hugs are a thing that friends do after all. Callie informs Jake that, while the exact details are personal, Gamzee could potentially still be dangerous and they might need him for backup.

When Gamzee stumble out of the fridge and adjusts his eyesight, the first thing he sees is Calliope. His first instinct is to envelope her in a hug. Nearly a minute passes before he notices Callie hovering over them and Jake training a gun on him.

Gamzee tries to hug Callie as well, but she pushes him back and starts interrogating him. Even when being held several feet in the air, Gamzee is still gushing over his daughter and Callie events puts him down at Calliope’s insistence. Gamzee’s blabbering comes to a dead halt once Callie bluntly asks why he killed Nepeta and Equius. Jake notices the mood shift and awkwardly excuses himself from the conversation, making sure he’s still in yelling distance.

Gamzee sits down, stares up at the sky and confesses to everything. He killed for two reasons. One was in service to his dark master Lord English, whom he believed would destroy reality and replace it with the Dark Carnival. An eternal paradise, free from all the abandonment and suffering he’d been cursed with. The other reason was Calliope herself. When he met her, when he first saw her hatch, he fell in love with her. She was the first person in his life to love him unconditionally.

He goes on into detail about how Lil' Cal, the Gamzee part of Lil' Cal talked about Calliope in his brief moments of clarity. Gamzee didn’t believe it until he met her himself.

Calliope isn’t sure what to make of her surrogate father. He’s a bad person by his own admission and the fact that he was, to an extent, motivated by her just makes it even more complicated. Callie rests a hand on her counterpart’s shoulder and asks Gamzee why she didn’t get this treatment. Gamzee hazards a guess that his counterpart wanted her to survive in that timeline. Cherubs grow best on isolation after all. It was even something he considered doing in the main timeline, given he loved Calliope more than her “brother". Callie suggests that they take Gamzee back to the house. Live with him for a few days. Give Calliope the chance to know him and sort out her conflicted feelings, while also making sure that he’s being monitored by one of the most powerful God-Tiers on Earth should he prove to be untrustworthy.

Jake doesn’t ask what their conversation was about, as he feels like it was a private affair. He’s confident that his dear friend and her alternate counterpart can handle whatever it is they’ve gotten themselves into. However, he is asked a question by Callie: What’s a sister? Gamzee kept referring to the two of them as such. Jake and Calliope explain the concept of siblings to Callie and the two decide too adopt the term. Callie and Calliope. Twin Cherub Sisters.

Over the course of the next few months, Callie and Calliope get to know Gamzee better. Gamzee is fully remorseful for his actions. He reveals more of why he took the path he did to his daughters overtime. He talks about the Sopor. He talks about his faith. He talks about his dad. Eventually, he even brings himself to talk about Tavros.

The sisters notice the way his demeanor shifts. The mood always lightens whenever he talks about Tavros. He looks like he’s somewhere else, somewhere warmer and nicer. In those brief moments, Gamzee looks like Gamzee again.

He refuses to tell them who killed Tavros. He insists he doesn’t know.

Meanwhile, Jake has been incredibly shifty on the details of his exhibition with the Calliopes. His friends know he’s hiding something from them, Jake can’t lie for shit. But, when pressed, he tells them that it’s something the Calliopes wanted him to keep secret. So the subject is left alone.

That is, until Vriska Serket catches wind of it.

It starts innocuously enough. John heard about Jake’s little trip, so he asks about it at the next anniversary party. Jake says the matter is private, so John drops the issue. Vriska overhears and starts hounding him for details. Jake went on an adventure with the two Calliopes and didn’t invite her? This is the most interesting thing to happen in ages! What happened? Who’s involved? What’s going on!?! Jake finds he can’t slip away and ends up accidentally dropping Gamzee’s name. Vriska’s enthusiastic interrogation suddenly turns death serious as she starts squeezing the facts out of him.

Gamzee is enjoying his quiet time at home, waiting for his kids to come back, when Vriska bursts through the wall. A brutal, bloody fight breaks out that lasts most of the night. Right when it looks like someone’s about to win, the Cherub Sisters get home. Callie steps in an demands to know what the hell Vriska is doing. Now that the two are restrained, Gamzee and Vriska argue instead. Calling each other murderers, abusers, manipulators, and every other nasty word the two can think of. Gamzee finally lets slip that Vriska is the one who killed Tavros.

Callie promptly hefts Vriska up by her neck. Even Calliope is giving her weird looks as Callie demands an explanation. Vriska stammers to think of a justification, but she comes up short. Killing Tavros was one of the few things she regretted, after all. Instead, she calls in back up. Vriska fully expects Callie to kill her, so she mind controls Terezi. Everything comes to a halt back at the party as Terezi suddenly shouts about Vriska being attacked down at the Cherub household.

John teleports everyone over there, causing mass chaos when they see what’s happening. Karkat demands an explanation from Gamzee, Callie demands an explanation from Vriska, Terezi demands an explanation Callie, and everyone is yelling at everyone. John, Jane, and everyone else who is trying to get people to calm down are drowned out in the sea of noise, until everything suddenly freezes. Aradia asks everyone to calm down, putting some emphasis on Callie specifically seeing how she’s probably strong enough to just break out of Aradia’s time stop.

What proceeds is effectively a trial, with Aradia reigning as Judge. The question of who exactly is on trial almost sparks another argument, but that gets shut down quick. Both Vriska Serket and Gamzee Makara on trial today and both immediately start flinging dirt at the other. The argument goes in circles as the two throw accusations and excuses at each other, forcing Aradia to break up a few fights. Vriska claims that she had an abusive lusus as an excuse, Gamzee points out that at least she had lusus. Gamzee calls Vriska out on her abusive behavior, John mentions the Pre-Retcon timeline. Vriska calls Gamzee a murderer and Gamzee has to be restrained from beating the shit out of her for what she did to Tavros.

Eventually, the whole thing comes down to a vote. It’s decided that they can’t really hold Gamzee accountable if they’re not going to hold Vriska accountable, as they share a lot of the same excuses and crimes. Regardless of what they’ve done, they still have loved ones among them, especially in the form of Terezi and the Calliopes respectively. Basically, the policy is “live and let live". Earth C is a place of new beginnings for a lot of people. Maybe it’s best to let them start over.

Later that week, Vriska vents at Terezi about being compared to Gamzee. I mean, Gamzee was the big threat that she saved everyone from. Vriska is the good guy here! Terezi points out that Vriska nearly got them all killed and Vriska meekly concedes the point. Vriska decides she should put her money where her mouth is and try to apologize to Gamzee. After all, they’re supposedly really similar and they both just want to me better people, right? So it should be no problem for her to just walk in and apologize.

Gamzee still gives her a chilly reception when she shows up and Vriska isn’t one to take insults lying down. Things quickly escalate into an argument from there before Callie breaks it up and asks Vriska to leave. This pattern repeats for awhile. One would approach the other, an argument would ensue, and Karkat or Callie or Terezi or whoever would intervene and split them up. It happened yearly, then monthly, then daily. Karkat is especially frustrated because he thinks they would make great kissmesises, but neither of them want to go there. Gamzee refuses to give her the time of day for what she did to Tavros and Vriska is so bothered by their similarities that she keeps approaching him about it. This leads to arguments, fights, split ups, and the cycle repeats.

Eventually, Calliope gets an idea. Gamzee’s main hang up with Vriska is what she did to Tavros, right? So, they can just resurrect Tavros, have him forgive Vriska, and problem solved! It worked great with Dave’s issues, so it should work this time. John is getting a bit tired of constantly refereeing their fights himself, so he agrees to help them. They just snatch Tavros’s body from the latest point in the timeline and resurrect him. Problem solved.

Things go off the rails very quickly. Gamzee and Tavros are ecstatic to see each other again and Tav nearly bowls him over with a hug. But, when he asks for a catch up on what everyone has been up too, Gamzee hesitates. Ultimately, Gamzee is serious about wanting to be a better person, for the sake of his daughters', so he decides to be honest. He tells Tavros everything that he did. Everything that happened and why. He even explains what he planned to do to Terezi.

Tavros doesn’t forgive him.

Tavros sees the similarities and they’re enough for him to not be comfortable around Gamzee anymore. He leaves and tells Gamzee not to contact him.

Gamzee tries anyways, to no avail. He begins to shut himself off from the rest of the world. He doesn’t even speak to Karkat anymore. All the good progress he made begins going down the drain. His best bro, his first bro, doesn’t think he’s worth it anymore. What’s he supposed to make of that?

The Cherub Sisters comfort him, try to get him out of his shell. It works, to an extent, but Gamzee quickly becomes possessive. It gets worse day by day, from Gamzee stalking them to him trying to keep them from leaving the house. The Cherub Sisters go to Rose for advice, given she’s the psychologist, but she admits that she’s a little out of her depth when it comes to Gamzee. She advises spending some time away from him and letting Karkat take care of him. He’s his moirail, after all, this is his job.

But, when the sisters go on a trip, Karkat struggles to bring Gamzee out of his shell. He’s far to despondent and doesn’t seem to react to anything Karkat tries. Whenever Gamzee’s about to open up, he looks at Karkat and sees another person he failed, betrayed, and immediately clams up.

When the Sisters get back, he’s an even more possessive, self destructive mess than he was last time, to the point of watching them sleep every night. Calliope decides that they need to time travel again to fix this. John is hesitant, given last time apparently didn’t work out, but he agrees to help. This time, the sisters decide to grab his lusus. But, when introduced, Gamzee’s lusus turns around and swims away, which only sends him further down into his spiral. It’s gotten to the point where Gamzee flat out forgets to eat or sleep for days on end. When the sisters go to him again for help, John tries to refuse, stating they’re just making things worse, but Callie demands that he help out.

This time, the sisters bring Gamzee a recouperacoon to help treat his newfound insomnia. This ends with him diving head first back into addiction. Even Vriska seems concerned when she comes over for another argument, only to find him blankly staring at the ceiling. The more Gamzee’s mental state decays, the more desperate the sisters get to help him. At first, John blatantly refuses to help them any further, because all they’re doing is making things worse, but then he relents when Callie actually threatens him into helping.

When John had dropped them off on a dead planet in the middle of a seemingly Doomed Timeline, he seemed confused. Callie explained to Calliope, once they were out of earshot, that she heard a legend once of a powerful Cherub who got her hands on the Treasure. The Cherub rampaged her way across the multiverse for centuries, leaving countless bodies in her wake, before being killed by a legendary Void Player. They’re there to obtain the Treasure from her body.

None of them notice the torn up Muse of Space outfit hanging on a tombstone. A memorial to an old friend.

When he brings the sisters back, John takes them to Dirk and Dave in order to stage an intervention. They’re creating a negative feedback loop. Gamzee’s falling further into his funk, which is making the sisters more desperate to help him. This causes their actions to become more hasty, which leads to them making short sighted mistakes, leading to an ongoing cycle. The sisters agree to stop meddling and claim they need time alone to sort things out.

But, it’s to late for that now. If some had stopped them sooner, talked to them a day earlier, the sisters could’ve been talked down. But now? It was to late. They were committed now. Their father needed them.

Their plan is simple. Callie reasons that the reason the Gamzee is still suffering, still losing, is that he was thematically predestined to. That’s the theme of his character. Tragedy and comedy. The duality of a lethal joke character. So, if they change what his theme is, what the narrative of his character is, they can change his fate. It makes some sort of sense… even if it is a desperate long shot when you think about it

So, how does one change the themes surrounding one’s character? They just need to change his aspect. Rage is defined by chaos, destruction, discontent, and the aforementioned duality. They just need to change his aspect to something else. And, in order to do that, they need a ritual.

All of reality is made up of games within games. Copies of SBURB that generate copies of SBURB on and on. Those games are made up of code and code can be decompiled. They just need to find the debug tool, reprogram Gamzee’s aspect, and thus eliminate all the thematic suffering that plagues his character.

In order to find the Debug Tool, the Sisters need to jump through some hoops. Using the Retcon Powers, Calliope and Callie approach a random Lord of Light, asking him to use his absolute knowledge to confirm their theory. He obliges, mostly to avoid fighting a powerful Muse of Space. Apparently, in order to find the Debug Tool, you’d have to gather up the fragments of its code that are hidden around Paradox Space. Luckily, the Lord knows where they are, thanks to knowledge being Light's mo. He gives them a list of what to search for and where to find it. The Sisters depart on their journey.

Calliope and Callie come across a Doomed version of Beforus and explain their quest to the local version of Feferi. The Empress admits that she does have something like that and is, in fact, happy someone has come to take it off her hands. The last time she tried messing with that strand of code, she ended up glitching a nearby galaxy out of existence, so she resorted to locking it up and throwing away the key.

Unfortunately, things begin to go wrong once Callie tries interacting with the fragment of code. The Sisters are effectively script kiddies in this “the multiverse is all code" analogy. Meaning, they don’t fully understand what they’re doing and they’re to desperate to fully care. Once the Sisters leave with the code fragment, Beforus's timeline begins glitching. It starts out like a particularly buggy Bethesda game and quickly descends into a lovecraftian nightmare. The Sisters only realize the damage they’ve caused when they see the timeline they just left “crash" and corrupt itself, leaving only buggy horrorterrors and amalgamated monstrosities in its wake. Calliope is horrified to see that they just destroyed an entire timeline, but Callie tries to remain calm. While she’s clearly shaken, she reasons that they can just undo the damage once the Debug Tool is put back together. It’s not like they can save the timeline now, it’s the only responsible thing to do. Calliope reluctantly agrees.

This pattern continues. The Cherubs travel from timeline to timeline, collecting bits of code and leaving buggy messes in their wake. With every piece collected, more damage is done to the very foundation of Paradox Space. Not only do timelines break apart, but survivors who escape said timelines act as viruses that allow the broken code to infest other timelines. People become living, unwitting Trojan Horses, spreading their glitches to other sessions. The spread only gets worse once the infection reaches the dreambubbles. Those who don’t die suffer as unrecognizable abominations.

This just makes the Sisters more desperate to fulfill their goal. Gamzee becomes an afterthought as they start racing to save reality.

Word soon spreads of the precursors of this event. Descriptions of the Capricious Makara Sisters, who would steal the keystones to your reality and doom your timeline to destruction.

The Alpha Trolls and the Ancestors in the dreambubbles team up to try and quarantine the event , with Aranea communicating with Vriska to inform Earth C of the ongoing apocalypse. The Earth C team help out where they can, but they begin to hear things about these so called Makara Sisters. Descriptions and details through the grape vine that sound hauntingly familiar. It’s Roxy who pits the pieces together as her gut sinks in horror.

The Makara Sisters teleport in to find a piece of the code, only to find their friends waiting for them. Roxy, Dave, Karkat, Dirk, and everyone else tries to reason with them. To talk them out of this crusade. The Cherubs don’t know what they’re doing. That’s the whole reason things got this bad. If the complete the Debug Tool, much less use it to mess with something as important as Aspects, they could potentially destroy all of Paradox Space. Quarantine efforts are making good headway, they don’t need to risk all this.

It’s to late though. Calliope is convinced that the Debug Tool is the only thing that can prevent Armageddon. During their argument, Callie breaks down in tears.

Gamzee was the first person she loved. Not appreciated, not cared for, loved. Over time, she’d grown attached to Gamzee. She learned about this things humans called family and she fully embraced it. Gamzee was her father and Callie was going to save him.

Calliope comforts her sister after her breakdown, allowing the two to teleport away.

The Makara Sisters continue collecting pieces of the code, destroying more timelines and making quarantine that much more difficult, until only one remains. The last piece of code, buried deep within Earth C's core. And all that stood between them were all of their friends.

No matter what happens, Roxy will always remember Calliope as her friend.

#villainstuck #long post #the makara sisters #calliope #god-tier calliope #roxy lalonde #dave strider #jake english #john egbert #karkat vantas #gamzee makara #vriska serket

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carnistirs · 4 years ago

Text

retrouvailles

↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 4: Future

This one could go for past as well, but I’m dropping this today because the setting’s technically in the future. Here’s 7k+ words of Aang and Toph being soulmates.

Read it on ao3 or under the cut

retrouvailles {French} the happiness you feel upon reuniting with someone after you've been apart for a long time

‘

“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, soft in the clamor of the snack aisle—

It’s violent, the way Toph’s ripped away from her little daydream, and her body’s still flinching as her eyes and ears slowly readjust to the people around her. There are no flying bisons and wingled lemurs here because they don’t exist, because she’s in a goddamn grocery store.

She tiredly lifts her gaze up – all the way up – to an angelic figure leaning over her, what with the lovely features and the bright light brimming around his shaved head. He’s all broad shoulders and lithe muscles and effulgent tattoos, and even though he looks like an incredibly kind person, something about him sets her teeth on edge. Like she should know him by now even if she’s never met this man in her life.

“Was I blocking you,” she replies, unable to help the flatness of her voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Toph moves to walk around him, oddly reluctant.

“No, wait—” the guy blurts out, panicked, his nimble fingers reaching out to curl lightly around her shoulder blade—

And they say it’s like nothing else matters, that touching your soulmate for the first time is like sating a hunger you never knew you had.

She’s always thought that was a fat load of bullshit – what, you meet the stranger that’s supposed to be your other half and it’s happily ever after just like that? – but here she is, a hypocrite to her own thoughts.

Toph hones in on the warmth that’s molded around the curve of her shoulder, feeling a far too pleasant burn smear its way down her spine. She leans away from the stranger by a few inches, just to test it their limits, but fuck, it hurts. She’s met him for a total of three minutes and the sensation of not touching him already leaves her with an ache she can’t even begin to understand.

He makes a hurt noise in his throat when she leans away, jarred by the abruptness of their separation. His hands follow after her, touching the points of her elbows this time, and Toph feels the tremor in his hands, hears the quickness in his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, tightening his fingers around her skin. “I know we don’t know each other, but—”

“This is so stupid,” Toph groans, but she’s slipping a palm over his wrist thoughtlessly, touching the thrum of his pulse. “Why a fucking Walmart of all places?”

Her soulmate’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Why not a Walmart?”

Because it’s the lamest place ever, she wants to say, but then she catches his smile and she stutters to a stop. She gazes at his pretty grey eyes and knows them, has seen them in multiple lifetimes.

(It’s you reverbrates in the space of her chest that used to be hollow, that used to be a void tundra.)

There’s a soulmark on her forearm now – long, golden vines with leaves that twist into the complimentary ones wrapped around his own skin, and the longer they touch, the more intertwined their vines become. It’s both thrilling and unsettling since, so far, Toph’s lived through twenty years of her life with a bare forearm.

“So,” Toph ends up mumbling, because she knows where this is going to lead and because someone has to eventually, “your place or mine?”

‘

“Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”

“I don’t see why not.”

‘

Her soulmate’s name is Aang, a vegan pacifist whose happiness seems endless, and the while he’s chirping to her about his life like an excited hummingbird, she finds it harder to fathom why the fates specifically chose him for her.

“I’m talking way too much about myself,” he chuckles in embarrassment, pink dusting over his cheeks.

Shrugs. “I asked.”

Aang’s curled up with her on his couch – his apartment had been closer - idly playing with one of her hands. Their tea sits on the coffee table, cold and forgotten, but she’s too stupidly inebriated with the feeling of his hands on her own to care. Toph doesn’t mind the constant touching, surprisingly. It feels so much better than anything else, and there’s this still moment where they watch his vines crawl from his fingers over to hers.

“What about you?” He’s close enough for his cheek to brush her shoulder. “Tell me about yourself? Pretty please?”

“I’m an art student,” she grins back, unwittingly, at his enthusiasm. “I go to BSSU.”

He positively beams at this. “I go there too! Why is it that I’ve never seen you around campus before?

“Different curriculum maybe?

Toph feels the heat of his gaze wandering everywhere, stiffening slightly only when it drops to the puckered skin on her right leg. “Is there a story behind this?” she hears him ask quietly, his fingers hovering over the scar, but not quite touching it.

“You’re going to think I’m fucking crazy.”

“Try me.” Aang’s isn’t sporting that bright smile anymore, but his face has softened completely. “If you want, that is. You don’t have to tell me.”

It’s strange and new and terrifying, but he’s a gentle breeze in their bond, surrounding her without suffocating her, smoothing over the points of her body that are maybe a little too rough, a little too jagged.

“Well, there’s this forest near the house I grew up in,” Toph starts, drumming her fingers along his soulmark. “I walked through it so many times that I practically memorized it. I really thought I could navigate myself through the forest blind, so I put on a blindfold—”

(The darkness doesn’t welcome her, not the way she wants it to.

Her bare feet press into the earth and she doesn’t feel the vibrations of the earth moving around her, doesn’t hear the songs of squirrels skittering up the old trees, of worms writhing in the dirt. She feels disconnected from everything, small and insignificant.

She carefully glides along the flat surface of the boulders, but misses her next step, falls down and keeps falling—)

“Anyway, now I have a permanent reminder of how much of a dumbass I was,” she says, half bemused, half self-depreciating.

But Aang opens his arms, his face silently pleading, and she hesitates a little. Her soulmate is a stranger wrapped in odd, familiar skin and when they’re pressed together, it’s like they’re speaking an old, sacred language only their bones know.

They should be in bed right now like most soulmate couples their age – or at least kissing, maybe - but she supposes she’ll fail at that too amongst other things.

So, Toph leans in, biting back a satisified hum when his arms coil around her shoulders. He smells like clean laundry and a hint of cinnamon, and when he sighs in content, she feels her muscles relax.

“I like to stand on the edges of high places,” Aang noses against her hair, probably unaware that’s he’s doing it too. “My friends can’t stand it when I do it, but I can’t help it. I never have the urge to actually jump,” he adds in a small laugh, “but I like to imagine that there would be a way for me to somehow catch myself if I do. Then I remember that it’s not possible and I feel this...incredible loss.”

An unexplainable loss you never had in the first place. Yeah, she gets it.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” His eyes languidly trail after the uplifted bend of her mouth. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

There’s an anxious spike of hope blooming in the pit of Toph’s stomach and it’s not coming from her. She doesn't exactly know how she knows this either, but it's all Aang she's feeling.

It’s coming from him.

Which is ridiculous because Toph shouldn’t be able to feel him like that. Soulmates don’t work like that. There’s soulmarks and the constant need to be close, but not this invasion of other people’s emotions—

“Yeah, sure,” she says.

Everything is okay. Everything is fine.

Get a fucking grip.

‘

“Some bonds only need an hour of touching and they’re okay for the whole week,” she says at the threshold of his front door, lingering. “Maybe we’re like that? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

“O-Okay,” Aang stutters, brows furrowed, looking like he really wants to follow after her like an imprinted duckling.

Toph lets go of his hand then and the sharp sting she feels should have been taken as a warning. She takes a step back though, forcing herself to play dumb to his white fingers clenched around the door frame and the sudden pallor of his face.

Her fingers tingle in a particularly awful way as she waves goodbye to him and the discomfort is rudimentary, really. It’s nothing she can’t handle, considering she’s had worse done to her skin.

She makes it as far as the turn of the hallway, right when Aang’s out of her view.

Pain grips at her right arm and the numbness flares outward, careening her into the wall. She can’t fucking breathe because it feels like her lungs are being scraped out by a rusty spoon, like her ribs are being branded by hot iron—

Aang barrels into her at a frightening speed and they go teetering to the floor, but he curls his body around hers protectively, possessively, breaking her fall. He’s mouthing something frantic against the hollow of her throat, but she can’t hear it because she’s too overwhelmed by the sensation of his pain pressing down on top of hers.

Whatever she’d felt earlier is vaulting back tenfold and it’s so strange to feel her own emotions looped back to her through a feedback that’s experienced through him. She feels him desperately wanting to take away the unseen hurt throbbing in her while trying to compress his own down and, gods, this isn’t normal.

“Um,” Toph whispers, her voice trembling with her body as she clings to him. “Okay, that was a dumb idea. I’m sorry—”

“Maybe you should stay with me for a couple of days—”

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We have school. How are we going to do—”

“There’s an exemption form we could fill out online. It’s for soulmates who have recently bonded. It’ll get us out of classes, just – please, please don’t leave.”

“I don’t have extra clothes on me or a toothb—”

“You can borrow my clothes. You’ll drown in them because you’re so tiny,” Aang laughs, hoarse, sliding shaking fingers into her unbound hair. “And I have an extra toothbrush you can use. We’ll figure it out, Toph, please.”

What the fuck, what the fuck—

“Alright.” She closes her eyes, surrendering herself to raw instinct by sticking her nose to the skin underneath his jaw. “I’ll stay.”

‘

“Choose well. A sky bison is a companion for life.”

He’s holding an apple in his hands and his legs are jittery – like it’s impossible for him to stay still. The baby bisons are circling their mother in the air and his breath catches because he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

There’s a small bison just a few feet away, looking like it’s waiting for him. It appears to be the runt of the litter, but that’s okay because he’s the smallest in his class too. If it accepts him, then perhaps they can grow together.

Biting his lip, he carefully approaches the small bison and offers the apple to it.

It – no, the bison is a he – sniffs the fruit along with his extended hand before opening his mouth expectantly.

He tosses the apple in and allows himself to pet the bison on the nose while the latter chews. He doesn’t expect the bison to nuzzle into his touch with a pleased rumble, but the creature does anyway, leaning too far in until he loses his balance and falls on his rear end. The bison licks at the whole of his face, pulling happy giggles from his mouth and he knows, then and there, that he’s found the one.

“I guess this means we’ll always be together,” he smiles wide, hands rubbing on either side of the creature’s muzzle—

‘

Toph blinks awake to find herself plastered to Aang’s back with both of her arms snaked around his chest. One of his hands is clasped in hers, their fingers twined, and she has a leg thrown over his hip as if she’s slept with him like this their whole lives.

His bedroom is small and simple, but there’s a slight airiness to it that reminds her of the temple in her dreams – or not dreams, apparently. She sees this temple in the sky in quick flashes while she’s awake too, and if they don’t show her in the company of monks, then it’s always with that six-legged bison.

“I can hear you thinking,” Aang mumbles sleepily.

She presses her face to his shoulder. “Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, you waking up actually yanked me out of sleep too.” Gently tightens his fingers around hers, reassures her that he’s not upset. “It’s not a big deal. What’s bothering you?”

I think I’m seeing your memories from a past life never quite leaves Toph’s mouth.

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

And maybe that’s the wrong thing to say because Aang just turns in her hold and exhales into her neck, slipping his arms around her waist. His fingers tease the hem of a shirt that’s too big on her and he asks in a hushed tone if it’s okay. Toph nods, her skin shivering in loose delight once his palm slides underneath the shirt to splay itself flat against the small of her back.

The moonlight peeking through the curtains shows her one side of his face – the argent in his eyes, the fan of his inky lashes, the indent of his cheekbone. Objectively, he’s stunning, so she could have done a whole lot worse.

“You know I can tell you’re lying, right?” The corner of Aang’s mouth lifts, amused. “I can feelthat something’s wrong.”

“Can we just—” Opens her mouth and shuts it, frustrated inside. He rubs his thumb in calming circles against Toph’s skin and she still doesn’t know if she likes how one touch can clear her muddled thoughts just like that. “Can we just pretend that we don’t have some weird telepathic-empathic thing between us? Just for tonight at least? Fuck, it’s a lot to unpack on the first day.”

His hurt is muffled, but it’s there and she feels it her chest, taking root. “You think it’s weird?” he whispers, sounding like an open wound.

“Doesn’t this freak you out?”

“Yes, of course it does.”

But underneath the blanket of her own emotions, she senses fear for this bond. Fear at the thought of Toph rejecting him so quickly. She tightens her leg over his hip instinctively, telling him no, she’s not rejecting him. She doesn’t think that’s even possible at this point.

He presses a smile into her clavicle, relieved. “Do you remember dinner? When you were groaning after taking the first few bites of the pasta?”

Toph blushes. “Don’t make fun of me! I didn’t know artichoke sauce was even thing!” Or so delicious. “I was caught off guard, okay?”

“You were happy eating what I made for you and I felt that happiness,” Aang says, so soft. “It felt beautiful. You felt beautiful, Toph.”

(And I’d give you the whole world to keep you happy forever, he sings into her veins even if he doesn’t realize it yet, even if he’s just as scared and lost as she is.)

What an optimstic fool he is. “I might drive you nuts,” Toph throws back instead.

“Oh, I know you will.”

She pinches Aang’s side, cackling at his high-pitched shriek even when the sharpness of her index finger and thumb on his skin echoes against her own.

‘

“Where the hell have you been!”

“Chill, Sparky,” is Toph’s lazy response as she waltzes into her apartment, leading Aang in by their tangled fingers. “I texted you.”

“‘Be back in a week, dude’ doesn’t give me much to go by. A fucking week? You could have been dead for all I knew!”

“Stop projecting your sibling issues onto me. I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, when you found Sokka and Suki, the three of you didn’t leave your room for more than a week, you dirty hyprocrite!”

“At least you knew where I was the whole—” Zuko abruptly closes his mouth, his gaze darting to the towering man at Toph’s heels. “Aang? Wait, how do you two know each other?”

Toph lifts both their arms, showing him the fresh knitted vines gleaming on their skin. “He’s my soulmate. How do you two know each other?”

“I know Sokka and Sukki,” Aang chimes in cheerfully. “Wow, what a small world, huh?”

“How’d you two—”

“Anyway,” she interrupts brashly, not in the mood to retell their romantic, fateful meeting at Walmart, “Aang’s gonna be staying here for a week and then I’ll go back to his place for another week, and so on and blah blah. At least until the bond settles. You get it. Let us know when dinner’s ready,” she adds, practically yanking at Aang until they’re both confined in her bedroom.

Aang taps the end of her nose. “That was mean.”

“Please,” Toph makes a point of rolling her eyes. “Zuko barely said a word to me after touching the other two. They burst into the apartment like a fucking hurricane, almost doing it right there in our living room. So fucking rude.”

‘

She’s in the shower when she suddenly feels absolute terror choking at her, nearly making her slip on the tiles.

Toph barely wraps herself up in a towel before she’s barging out of the bathroom, extremely thankful that her room’s close by. Aang’s on the floor, back leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, quivering fingers curled around one of her older sketchbooks. Aang blindly reaches for her when she approaches, pulling her down onto his lap and burying half of his face into her shoulder blade.

“Is my art that terrifying?” Toph tries to joke, but he doesn’t even smile.

The drawing had been done in charcoal, dark and blurry around the edges, and she almost doesn’t remember drawing it. There’s an enormous centipede thing crawling out of a cave, its legs reaching out to take, to steal. The only colors on the sketch are the red lips and the grey eye markings of the Noh mask it’s wearing on its face, but she’s not sure if that makes it better or worse.

Aang’s voice is a quiet, little thing when he asks, “Where did you see this creature?”

(“My old friend, the Avatar,” the monster utters in a serpentine hiss. “It’s been a long time.”

“You know me?”

“How could I forget you? One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me,” it accuses, the white mask flickering into the face of an older man with a mustache and a long beard, “maybe eight or nine hundred years ago.”

“I didn’t know that.” It’s difficult, keeping his emotions out of both his face and voice. “Why did he – or I – try to kill you?”

The thing changes again – a beautiful woman this time, with long brown hair and familiar, sad eyes.

“Oh, it was something about stealing the face of someone you loved.”)

“A nightmare, I think,” Toph answers carefully. “Actually, you know what—”

She rips the page out of the sketchbook and crumples it tightly in her first. It feels like an ugly omen against her palm, riddled with malice and sadism, and she chucks it into her trash can.

“You didn’t have to do that. That was your work,” Aang murmurs, his guilt gnawing at her.

“It was a creepy-ass drawing. I don’t know what I was thinking when I drew that.” Pause. “I have better stuff on my desktop if you want to look.”

He kisses her shoulder, smiling sweetly. “I hope the creatures on there are less frightening.”

“Don’t be such a wuss. Wanna see what a badgermole looks like?”

‘

After their soulbond settles, they’ve learned that they can get through the day by themselves relatively alright as long as there was skin-to-skin contact for at least an hour beforehand. It no longer hurts to be away from Aang, but it is uncomfortable as fuck, like an itch burning inside that’s screaming at her to scratch it until it’s bloody and raw.

Which is fine.

So ridiculously fine.

The lecture is a drone in the back of Toph’s mind as she doodles along the corner of her notebook page to take her mind off the itch. The mintiness of the gum she’s snacking on ebbs away suddenly, turning into something vastly different.

She chews again, tasting raspberries, fruit juice, bananas, and...almond milk?

Aang is waiting for her outside the door when her class ends and as soon as he sees her, his entire face lights up like the sun. His content rolls over Toph in a soothing whisper and she subconsciously mimics his smile, her body humming with want.

In spite of the protesting noise she makes, Aang scoops her up in his arms until her feet are dangling above the ground. He nuzzles his cheek to hers, his breath warm against the ridge of her ear, and he twirls them once because he can’t help himself. She hisses at him to put her down, but it doesn’t really bother her as it normally would with literally anyone else.

“Did you have a smoothie?” Toph asks.

“Yeah.” He keeps his hands pasted to her hips, his eyes bright with excitement. “I tasted the gum you were chewing earlier.”

“I want to say that I’m surprised, but am I really at this point?”

A deep chuckle as he cups her face in his palms. “Don’t be so glum. Think of all the possibilities! What if you’re really hungry, but you don’t have time to get food because you’re taking a test or something? I could eat something and you’d be able to taste it.”

“Oh, yeah, super cool. What if you’re hungry and I decide to get a hamburger?”

He blinks, his grin faltering. “I’m vegan, Toph. You know that—”

“You’re not actually eating it – you’re only getting a taste. Like you said, all the possibilities. You ever want to try a steak? Or a milkshake with actual milk?”

Toph bites back a smile, doing a poor job of concealing how much she really enjoys it when he gets all flustered.

‘

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“You drunk already?” Sokka passes a bemused glance at her. “I don’t remember you being that much of a lightweight.”

It’s warm in the bar – she can tell by the slight flush on Sokka’s cheeks that has nothing to do with being intoxicated – but Toph still burrows her nose deeper into the wool scarf coiled around her neck, still tightens her coat around her. Aang may be on the other side of the city, but he’s somewhere outdoors, somewhere cold, and the alcohol isn’t making her any warmer.

Aang doesn’t do well in colder weather, but he’s having fun with his friends even if he’s getting the both of them sick. She can feel him missing her, missing the press of her fingers on his skin even though they’d seen each other hours ago.

“You have two soulmates,” Toph grumbles. “The idea of past lives shouldn’t be that fucking implausible.”

His shoulder gently bumps against hers. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset—”

“Okay, okay, let’s start over,” Sokka smiles at her, completely genuine and not at all mocking. “Why do you suddenly believe in reincarnation?”

“I have these dreams,” she says, her brows knitting together as she curls her hands tighter around her glass. “Well, I used to think they were dreams, but then I’d see something while I’m awake. They’re always about Aang in this completely different life and it’s like I’m a passenger in his body, just going through the motions.”

“And you think these things are actually his memories from a past life.”

Toph exhales quietly, the lines of her body losing their tautness. She feels mildly less insane now that someone’s acknowledged it for her.

“They feel too real to just be my imagination. It’s always him in the same timeline.”

Sokka hums, thoughtful. “Maybe they are his memories, Toph. Who knows? Soulbonds can’t be explained, but people accept them anyway. For what it’s worth, I believe you.”

“If this is you making fun of me, I swear to—”

“No, I really mean it! Like, if I didn’t end up with Suki and Zuko – or either of them – in a previous life and reincarnation’s just a thing that’s giving me a second chance to actually be with them, then that’s pretty cool. Fate’s doing me a solid.”

“Second chances,” Toph muses, more to herself than anything.

“Yeah, why not?” He downs the rest of his glass. “On a side note, what else are you feeling from Aang since the bond started? Something tells me you guys are...not normal.”

Toph starts to respond, but then she hunches over the counter, shoulders shaking. It slams into her out of nowhere and she has to clamp both her hands over her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable laughter. She’s yanked further and further into Aang’s joy, feeling it so keenly that the corners of her eyes begin to prickle with tears.

“What is happening,” Sokka blurts, alarmed and concerned. “Are you having a stroke—”

“One of Aang’s friends did something stupid and funny,” she hiccups out in short breaths, still guffawing. “It might – it might have been Bumi.”

Sokka gawks at her, frozen in place. He then orders another round of drinks for the both of them.

‘

Monk Gyatso lies against the wall, just bones and dust, and the omniscient rage of a thousand lives sinks down on him—

‘

The weight of his grief completely buries Toph, so much that she collapses in a public restroom. Her fingers scrabble at the tiles beneath her, desperate to clutch onto something, anything, as the memory consumes her. Something vibrates in her pocket for a long, long time, but she’s too busy screaming soundlessly into her palm to notice.

Panic slips into Toph, making her blood run cold, and the longer she ignores her phone, the more frenetic her soulmate feels—

“Toph?” is his voice on the other line, wildly frantic, when she finally answers the call. “Did someone hurt you? What’s wrong, where are—”

“I—” Her breath comes out in harsh pants. “It’s o-okay. You don’t need to come.”

Rustling, like Aang’s already preparing to step out. “No, no, that’s not what it feels like,” he argues softly, and now there’s pain in his voice because she won’t let him come to her, won’t let him take care of her—

Her chest squeezes tighter, aching. “I slipped. I’m, uh, good now.”

“Toph, please.” His voice breaks and she screws her eyes shut, tasting saltwater in her mouth. “Please let me come to you. Tell me where you are.”

So she whispers back that she’s at the tea shop near their school, the one owned by Zuko’s uncle.

Aang rushes into the women’s restroom ten minutes later – a feat in itself, considering the usual commute is twice that amount – and she’s never wanted him to see her like this, hunched under one of the sinks and sobbing over a memory that isn’t even hers.

He sucks in a sharp breath like Toph’s pain cleaves him. His eyes are red-rimmed and she can’t even look at him because she’s so sorry. She’s sorry that he’s lost his people, sorry that he’s lost his home, sorry that he’s lost his entire culture.

The way he stalks over to her is noiseless, ghostlike even, and then he’s plucking up all the bird bones of Toph’s body, folding himself around her and concealing her from the rest of the world. It makes her cry harder, if anything, to the point where she’s dry-heaving against his chest, but it helps when she pushes her hands under his shirt to touch the tight skin around his hips.

She tells him everything. That he was raised by Air Nomads in another life. That he was something called the Avatar. That they lived in a world where people could manipulate the elements as they pleased.

That they lived during a long, long war.

“You controlled the element of air first,” Toph rasps out later, when it finally doesn’t feel like her lungs are going to give out on every inhale. “You and Appa got caught in this storm, and then you did something that left you frozen at the bottom of an ocean. Katara and Sokka found you, but when you came back to the Southern Air Temple, everyone was dead and it had only felt like you left days ago, but a fucking century passed—”

To his credit, Aang doesn’t once ask who Appa is or what the Southern Air Temple is supposed to be. His heart beats faster and his skin jolts at the familiarity of her words, but he holds her still.

“Breathe, T,” he says, rocking her, sweeping her dark hair away from her neck so that he can kiss the small space behind her ear.

She does. Inhales for four seconds, exhales for six—

It’s a breathing technique that Monk Gyatso had taught Aang. Had taught her.

Their soulmarks cling to each other distressingly, her aurelian leaves and vines overlapping his.

“Do you ever dream of me?” Toph asks, calmer.

“I have many daydreams about you.” And that’s mischief slanted against her nape, rounded out by his mouth. He’s soft and playful now, making her sink further into his embrace. “When your memories come to me, I don’t actually see anything.”

Tries not to be too disappointed. “Oh.”

“No,” Aang smudges a smile against the corner of her mouth, gently thumbing a tear-stained cheek. “You were blind in your last life, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to. You felt these vibrations in the earth and it allowed you to see and hear things no one else could. You were the greatest earthbender that ever lived.”

“She sounds way cooler than me.”

He tips her face up. “You’re just as cool as she is,” Aang breathes, and there’s a brush of lips against hers, slow and sweet. “Just as beautiful.”

(I found you again, her soul thrums out, the loudest it’s ever been inside her.)

Toph twists in his arms, chasing after his mouth. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time, tasting his honeyed delight and feeling it mingle with her own. His hands shove themselves up her sweater to frame the space of her back as he parts his mouth, allowing her to—

“Gee, it looks like you guys are fine in here,” comes a monotonous drawl that has them breaking apart, sputtering. “And here I was, worried for no apparent reason.”

“Mai!” Aang practically yells, his ears turning beet red. “When did you – why are—”

The other girl waves a dismissive hand. “Toph and I were going over work. What was supposed to be a five-minute restroom break turned into a forty-minute one,” she adds pointedly, raising a brow.

“Sorry,” Toph says sheepishly. “I had a thing. Like a panic attack or whatever. It’s gone now, so no biggie.”

Aang, severely disagreeing with her on that last statement, wraps her up tighter in his arms.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Mai says then, and it may just be Toph’s imagination, but she thinks she sees the former’s face soften a bit. “Get some rest.”

After Mai leaves, Aang plays with her loose hair. “We should probably leave too.”

“Yeah.”

But Toph’s leaning in, pausing only a few inches away from his lips and grinning when he automatically closes the distance. She feels that buzzing of happiness again and whether it’s his or hers, it doesn’t matter.

‘

Aang’s shoulders are still quivering as he drops shaky, open-mouthed kisses along the crease of her hip. He’s been pulled apart to pieces, beautifully and painstakingly, and the remnants of bliss still drumming within him makes it slow to put those pieces back together.

She only knows because she feels the exact same way. She feels everything.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” His voice is wrecked and his lips are so kiss-swollen, but he’s still this hopelessly exotic thing sprawled between her legs. There’s an indelible glaze to his to expression that makes him look so thoroughly fucked, and when he rests his chin on her stomach and looks up at her with soft, needy eyes, something inside her chest just melts.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Toph husks out with a laugh.

“Yeah, why didn’t we,” he murmurs back, still loopy, nosing the skin around her navel.

Toph strokes her fingers along the arrow inked on his head, pulling a quiet mewl from him. The arrow tattoos on his body are the same design, the same placement – just the wrong shade of blue. These lines are darker than the ones she sees in his memories.

Maybe the effervesent, illuminating blue that once marked Aang as an airbendering master doesn’t exist in this world.

“Can you skip your classes tomorrow?” he asks.

“Why?”

His answer is a trail of wet kisses up the flat stretch of her belly. “Because I want to keep doing this.”

“Really.” Toph plays off as nonchalant, even when her heart skips a beat. “You want to render us incapable of walking by the time we’re done?”

“Toph, I don’t think I’m able to walk now,” Aang chuckles, before looking up at her from beneath his lashes, coy. “But I still want you in my bed whether we’re having sex or not. I just want you.”

His want reverbrates in the apex of Toph’s thighs and she wishes she can be as open as he is. She wants him in her bed forever, but the words become stifled in her throat, never leaving her mouth. He smiles at her though, tender and adoring, like he knows what she’s trying to say.

She rolls them over, straddling his hips. Gratification seeps into her at the way his pupils dilate, at the way he takes her in breathlessly.

‘

He’s upset – so very, very upset – and she doesn’t know why.

Toph feels it two blocks away from his apartment and it spurs her to walk faster, to the point where she’s running.

After letting herself in, she finds Aang leaning over the kitchen counter, the stiff lines of his back obvious through his thin shirt. She leans her back against the counter and presses her elbow to the nimble fingers constricted around dark granite.

“What’s up, grumpy?”

Her soulmate breathes out noisily, his shoulders bunching forward like he’s trying to make himself much smaller than he is. He doesn’t turn to face her, doesn’t immediately trap her in his arms like he usually would after a long day apart. He leans against her though, heavy, part of him trying to disappear into the pale abyss of her skin.

“We weren’t married to each other,” Aang whispers, horrified. “I was married to someone else. A non-bender, I think. I don’t recognize her voice.”

And there’s really no point in getting angry with Aang or this mystery woman because the past is the past, but jealousy festers anyway, scratching at her bones. She tries to taper down it to keep him from feeling it, but he flinches, looking even more miserable than before.

She tries for apathy then: “So? It was in the past – a past we’re only barely starting to get details from.”

“But I was still seeing you. I had kids with this woman, but I was still sneaking around with you—”

“Okay, so I was a side chick. Whatever, that’s fine—”

“It’s not fine,” a muscle in his jaw jumps, “none of this was fine. I’m seeing this from your persepective, remember? You weren’t okay with this.”

“Why does it fucking matter?” Toph spits, a small part of her regretting it when Aang’s mouth pinches into a thin line. “Maybe we never got together. Maybe sex on the the side was our only option. Whatever the fuck we did in that lifetime, it’s got nothing to do with what we have in this one!”

(“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, gazing down at the newborn. “Did you decide on a name?”

“Suyin’s kind of pretty. Has a nice ring to it.”

Tightly swallows. “Toph, is she – is she mine?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman in bed mumbles. “It’s not your problem.”

“But—”

“I’m not repeating myself, Twinkletoes. And she doesn’t belong to anyone but me.”)

Then Aang grazes her side with feather-light hands, silently asking for permission. She’s still bristling in her skin, but he makes the frustration and shame go away with just a brush of his palms on her body.

She wants to stay mad at him, wants to stew in silence all by herself, but she physically can’t, not when he’s already made a home for himself in the space of her ribs.

Toph pulls him in with an incoherent grumble, binding her arms around his torso to anchor him back to earth because he feels like he’s going to float away. He shivers against her, mouthing soft apologies against the column of neck as he clings onto her. Even on her tiptoes, her head barely reaches his chin, but she leans on them anyway because she doesn’t want him breaking his neck trying to bury himself in hers.

“Maybe I leave my wife when our kids are older,” he says, his teeth scraping over her shoulder. “I leave her for you.”

“You really think that happened?”

“Yes,” comes Aang’s response, but even that sounds a little unsure. Like he desperately wants it to be true. The uncertainity makes him press into her until there’s no visible space left between them. “Why wouldn’t I do that for you? We’re soulmates. I don’t believe in any lifetime where you’re not always by my side.”

Toph rolls her eyes. “You’re such an embarassing idiot sometimes.”

Aang smiles, his tongue flicking against her jawline. Heat simmers at the pit of Toph’s stomach, rising languidly, and his hands are at the back of her thighs. “I need you,” he sighs, catching her mouth with his.

“I know, you dumb airhead.”

She quickly finds herself hoisted onto the counter before she’s tipping her head back, letting him unbutton her flannel and kiss his way down—

‘

“Don’t worry,” Katara says. “We’ll find you a teacher. There are plenty of amazing earthbenders out there.”

There’s a deep wrongness in him as he stares back at Gaoling. Like he’s making a mistake by just giving up and leaving—

“Not like her.”

After he climbs onto Appa with reluctance, he doesn’t immediately lift the reins. Sometimes, there are rewards to being patient, to sitting still and letting the winds carry their answers to you. When he listens to the currents around him, he catches a flurry of hurried footsteps headed in their direction.

Delicate hope grows in his chest.

“Toph!” Happiness etches itself onto his face, wide and open, when the small girl runs out of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad changed his mind. He said I was free to travel the world.”

It’s a bold-faced lie.

But when Toph smiles, something inside his own stomach flutters wildly—

‘

“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, waking her, his mouth lightly tracing the curve of her ear.

“Fuck off,” Toph mumbles, still face down on the table, in spite of her fingers reaching out to rest along the nape of his neck. The taste of coffee – the strong kind – lingers on her tongue. “M’ tired. Why’d you drink coffee? And a goddamn red eye at that.”

Aang tugs at her hair teasingly. “Because I almost fell asleep while driving over here to get you.”

“Ugh, you’re going to keep me up all night.”

“I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time,” Aang smirks, nuzzling his nose along her cheekbone. “Or, well, one specific thing actually—”

Toph snorts. “Dork.”

He snatches her up, fingers digging into her side as he drags her onto his lap. Peals of laughter escape her while he tickles her relentlessly, so much that the harder she laughs, the more she feels him eventually shaking with laughter too, amplifying the sensation. One of the campus librarians shushes them sharply and she feels Aang hiding his face into her throat to escape the blame.

“What’s that?” he inquiries out of nowhere then, reaching for something on the table—

“No snooping!” Toph hisses without any real heat, swatting his hand out of the way to shove the tiny book into her backpack.

It’s a flipbook that she’s still working on, showing Aang peacefully bending all four elements. She had originally wanted to illustrate him kicking Ozai’s ass, but she doubts he would like the violence of it, so she’d gone with this instead.

Aang perks up in excitement. “Is it for me? My birthday’s in a couple of weeks, you know.”

Rolls her eyes. “Just wait and find out, Twinkletoes.”

She stands up in an attempt to gather her things, but as soon as she does, the feeling of a thousand pins pricking at her legs washes over.

“Your legs are numb,” Aang glances over with both bemusement and sympathy, on the verge of discomfort himself. “Here, I’ll carry you.”

“Nah, let’s just wait—”

But Aang pulls her arms over his shoulders, picking Toph up until she’s literally hanging onto his back, before he grabs her backpack. She hates being picked up in any manner, but it’s a losing battle with a cheerfully persistant soulmate like him. She yanks on the lobes of his ears, but he just grins, hitching her body higher.

“Yip-yip,” Toph says.

“Do I look like a flying bison to you?”

“You’re right, that was a terrible comparison,” she replies. “Appa is obviously a hundred times better than you.”

Aang makes an affronted noise, but Toph rests her head on his shoulder blade and kisses the elegant line of his neck, placating him. The brisk air hits her face once he walks out of the library and Toph tucks her face harder into his skin.

“I had a dream that you were looking for someone to teach you earthbending,” she whispers, wistful and smug. “You wouldn’t settle for anyone but me. Said I was the best out of all of them.”

“There’s no one else like you,” Aang replies easily, thumbing nonsensical patterns under her thighs.

He’d said that in his past life as well.

“Hey, Aang?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think we ended up together.” Because the snippets of his memories where he’s an adult are a lot sadder, filled with such hurt and longing. “I think we might have crashed and burned.”

Aang breath falters in her ear and he grips her harder, refusing to lose her to their past failures, to whatever broke them.

“We’ll do better this time, T.”

‘

(And they do.)

‘ [end notes:

BSSU = Ba Sing Se University

To clarify, what's normal for soulmates in this universe - (1) soulmarks appear as soon as soulmates touch each other (2) the need to be touching - the limits of this can vary with every soulmate bond, it all just depends.

As you can see with Aang and Toph, they obviously have a lot more going on with the XD

I hope this wasn't too confusing with the way Toph was receiving Aang's memories. Anything in italics was her seeing a memory. If anything was in parenthesis, that meant that Toph experienced the memory before the present time. Let me know if the italicized text isn’t showing like it does on the ao3 link. Tumblr’s being shitty for some reason.

If this was all confusing anyway, go ahead and yell at me]

#taang #aang #toph #aang/toph #modern au #soulmate au #soulmates #reincarnation #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #taangweek #taang week 2020 #fanfics #teabag fics

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

The Arrangement

Chapter 11

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, fighting, accusations of Infidelity, domestic violence (a slap), reading getting caught up in her own headspeace, insecure reader, Danneel being a raging bitch, manipulation, distrust, feelings of abandonment, language, I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2710

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Three months.You and Jensen had been married for three months.

It felt like only yesterday that you closed the door on your parents house for the last time. Now here you are, stirring tonight's supper, waiting on your husband to get home from his meeting with his agents.

They had flown in to Austin last night to meet with him today about his 'future.' Jensen said that means that they wanted him to try out for some other acting roles, which he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to do.

You told him that you would support him in whatever decision he made, though you knew that acting meant relocating if you wanted to be with him while he was filming, because the likelihood that he'd get a role that filmed in Austin where basically non existent.

You'd never lived outside of the state of Texas.

Actually, you'd never been outside of the state of Texas period, which was quite contradictory to your husband, who has literally been almost everywhere.

Sometimes he made you feel like such a child.

You knew that was never Jensen's intention. He never looked down on you or degraded you, at least not to your face. He even stood up to Jared three months ago. The two of them hadn't really spoken since, and you felt horrible about that. Even though Jensen had repeatedly told you that it wasn't your fault, and that Jared was being a child that needed to grow up.

You were lost in your own thoughts when the door opened and closed loudly, alerting you to Jensen's return.

"Y/N? You home?" You heard his voice ring through the house as he made his way toward the kitchen.

"Yeah in here!!" you yell over your shoulder, trying to compose your own thoughts before you had to come face to face with him.

His arms encircled around you, pulling your back tight to his chest. You instinctively leaned your head back against his shoulder.

There was something about his presence that just seemed to calm you. The way he smelt, the way his solid body felt up against your own, the way he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight; like if he let go of you, you'd disappear, and he just couldn't have that.

"How did your meeting go?"

"Not bad, not great, but not bad. They want me to try out for more roles, which I already knew. They didn't seem too happy when I said I wanted to work on my own album. One just by myself, and then maybe... I don't know." He sighed deeply against your neck, making you shiver.

"I got time to figure it out. I really am not sure I want to go back fully into acting, maybe just an appearance here and there, I really want to do my music. They said I had plenty of time to think about it."

Kissing you on the forehead, he takes his phone and wallet out of his jeans, then sits them on the counter next to you.

"I'm going to go grab a shower real quick, then after we eat we can lay on the couch and binge watch Friends, preferably naked." he said, winking at you and making you blush, before turning back to your task at hand.

Turning on the dishwasher after loading it, you heard the ding of Jensen's phone on the counter next to you.

It was a text.

You weren't trying to snoop , but you saw it anyway. When you heard the phone go off you imminently looked up at the phone.

It was his publicist Brian.

Jensen, call me. Someone took a pic of Danneel kissing you today. They turned it into TLC. Got to do damage control man.

You stood there staring at the phone on the counter, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't believe what you had just read. He had said she cheated on him, that they were done.

Your vision starts to blur and burn as tears brimmed their way to the surface of your eyes.

'No it's just a joke, or a mistake, he was meeting with his publicist and his agents today. He was nowhere near Danneel. It's a lie...'

Just as you had almost convinced yourself that it was bullshit another text came across the screen. This time it was the picture.

There they were, standing in front of a building, her mouth locked to his. You closed his phone and stumbled your way to the kitchen table that was just a few feet away.

You felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. Every fiber of your being felt like it was crumbling.

You hadn't realized until that moment how much you had really fallen for the man. Right now though, all you could really register was the inexplicable hurt, and feeling of being betrayed.

You wanted to leave, but had nowhere to go. You couldn't get out of a marriage like the one you and Jensen found yourself in easily. You were literally stuck unless Jensen released you. Even then you were back to where would you go?

Your thoughts weren't coherent anymore, just pain, and confusion. She was stunning compared to you, worldly, she could probably do a lot more for him than you could.

With that thought, the shame really hit you. You obviously weren't satisfactory to him, otherwise he wouldn't be going to his ex wife to get what he needed.

Tears were flowing down your face in earnest now, hurt, embarrassment, and your own insecurities eating away at you down to your very core.

How were you going to face him when he got out of the shower? What were you going to tell him? You didn't know how to handle this.

Hearing the bathroom door close you knew you needed to get yourself under control, but you couldn't, the hurt was just too much.

You tried desperately to dry your face so that he wouldn't notice you had been crying. You didn't know how he would react. You weren't intentionally standing there looking at his phone. You were just there when it went off, and crossed the screen. It wasn't like you were looking on purpose, and if you had your way, you'd never have seen it, and continued to live in ignorance. It would have hurt a lot less.

You heard him come into the living room, looking around for you.

"Baby? Where are you?"

You could hear him getting closer to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath you didn't know what to do. You wanted to yell, you wanted to slap him, which surprised you, you wanted to scream, you wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. The overwhelming emotions are too much for you to compute all at once.

You heard him come up to the table and pull a chair back. You must have looked as horrible as you felt on the inside because he immediately reached for your hand, which you jerked away from harshly. He sat there for a moment looking you over, not sure what to say or do, completely unaware of what caused this outburst from you.

"Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me sweetheart?"

He pushed the chair back, and moved to get on his knees in front of you, reaching for you. Your body reacts before you could even process what you were doing, shoving your chair back away from him harshly. You couldn't look him directly in the eye, but you didn't miss the flinch in body language when you pulled away from him so harshly. You’d never done that before.

"Come on baby, please talk to me. We were fine when I went to take a shower, what happened? Tell me so I can fix it, I don't like us like this."

Standing before he could finish his pleas, you cross the room to the counter and take his phone in your hand,walking halfway to him and throwing it at him before exiting the room to lock yourself in the bedroom that you shared with Jensen.

You didn't know where this kind of aggression came from, it wasn't in your nature. You slid down the door after locking, sitting with your back to the door as you fell apart, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

You thought for a moment that your heart was going to stop beating. You had never felt so completely broken.

You could hear him calling for you. The sound of him running closer to the door and jiggling the handle. You couldn't make yourself move. You couldn't face him, or the fact that you were not good enough for him, or the fact that he was probably very angry at you for throwing his phone at him, or looking at his text message, or a multitude of reasons your mind was conjuring up.

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

Jensen's POV:

Jensen's heart was pounding in his ears. He wanted to literally murder Danneel, and if it wouldn't be the fact that orange wasn't actually the new black he probably would have tried, and made it look like an accident.

She had been texting him for a week now. Saying how much she missed him, and how much of a mistake she had made, how she wanted another chance, how she wanted him back and for them to be a family again.

He had nothing left for her, he literally felt nothing. He knew she was full of shit, that she just didn't want to be brought to court over the children, because she knew if she lost, she would lose a pretty good bit of his income with it.

So he just ignored her, not answering her text messages and just deleting them. Seeing as she couldn't get through to him on the phone, she jumped up and followed him to his meeting with his agents this morning, and when he walked out of the office she had ambushed him, grabbing him and kissing him hard before he had time to react.

She must have had a photographer hiding in the street. He was pretty sure he'd figured out that she was jealous and trying to ruin his marriage toY/N. If it would have been a regular photographer, then the photo of him yelling at her and pushing her away would have followed, but nope. Just the one of her kissing him.

Anger boiled under his skin. Her narcissism knew no limits, and once he fixed this shit with his wife, the woman he actually cared about, he was filing for a restraining order tomorrow.

Jiggling the door knob again he spoke through the door. Everything in him wanting to hold her, to tell her it wasn't him, that he'd never do anything like that to her. He'd never hurt her. He wanted to shield her from shit like this, and had failed measurably. Now she thinks that he's cheating on her.

"Come on Y/N, open the door baby. This isn't what it looks like. Come on, let me in."

Nothing.

"Baby,you know I can pick a lock right? I want you to let me in though, I don't want to force my way in... Come on sweetheart, you got to believe me. She followed me to my meeting and kissed me. I didn't even know she was there until she basically jumped on me. Please sweetheart, I would have never, NEVER have done that to you."

Nothing. Jensen could feel the anxiety tightening in his chest like a vise.

He couldn't lose her, not over this. Leaving the door only long enough to get something to pick the lock on the bedroom door. He was starting to feel short of breath. Like he was about to have a full on anxiety attack.

He'd been afraid to admit he had real feelings this early in their marriage for Y/N, more than just basic lust. Funny how you don't really know what you have until you stare at the possibility of losing it.

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

Your POV:

You could hear Jensen messing with the lock on the door. You had thought he had just given up and walked away from the door. You had moved from your spot on the floor, and literally crawled your way to the bed. You didn't have the strength to get up to your feet to walk. It was like something in you had died.

You knew you really cared about Jensen, you knew you were quickly ‘falling’ for him, and wanted to make a good wife for him, but you didn't realize you had feelings this deeply for him.

You wanted more than anything to believe what he was saying, you wanted to believe it was all Danneel. You wanted to believe that she had jumped him outside the office building, and that he had nothing to do with it. She kissed him.

There was a part of you though that was screaming men lie when they get caught. He broke your trust. You're not good enough for him. You will never be good enough for him. You're a sheltered, overgrown child, that he hasn't even tried to take out in public with him since that fiasco at Jared's house.

You're nothing but something he's ashamed of.

A burden.

With every horrible thought that ripped through your head, it felt like your chest would cave in. Believing your own thoughts, the worst one yet ripped through your subconscious before you could stop it.

'You have no family left, and now you're about to not have a husband. You're too sorry to even hold on to an arranged marriage. Your father would be so disappointed. You are a disgrace, and a shame to your family's memories.'

The door burst open before you had time to even react to your own thoughts. Jensen's heavy footsteps moved quickly around the bed. He kneeled down in front of you.

"Baby please, I didn't kiss her. They didn't show the whole story. That's the media, they do shit like that to make drama for themselves. She jumped me outside the building when I left my agents meeting."

You couldn't look at him. Just continued to give a dead, heartbroken look at the wall.

"Y/N, please look at me. I'm not lying to you.. She's been texting me for days saying she wants me back. I've been ignoring her. That's why she did that."

Nothing. You couldn't make yourself respond to him. You felt like you had the grand canyon in your chest where your heart used to be. Your body refuses to function. Your mind told you to reach out to him. Even though something deep down in you told you that he was telling you the truth, an even louder voice in you told you that he's lying, and you will just get hurt if you believe him. That he's going to leave you. One way or another.

"Sweetheart please.. I love you, I'd never do anything like this, I don't want her.."

Was he really going to sit there and tell you he loved you? After what he'd done?

Something snapped in you then. Anger you hadn't expected flooded through you from the top of your head to your feet. Before you could even register what you were doing you reached out and slapped him hard in the face, knocking him from a kneeling possession to a sitting one.

A look of shock, bewilderment, and another look you couldn't recognize crossed his face as he sat there staring at you with his mouth hanging slightly open, staring at you.

"Don't you dare.. You don't have the right to come in here, and tell me you love me after what you've done..."

You sat there staring at each other for a moment, neither of you saying a word.

Jensen after a moment composed himself. Got to his feet, and walked out the bedroom door. Slamming it behind him.

You laid back down on the bed and cried yourself to sleep.

Why was God doing this to you? Why did he keep taking everything from you?

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cherryplasmids · 5 years ago

Text

☆ a healthy new start ☆

pairing: johnny ‘coco’ cruz x reader fandom: mayans m.c — season 2-ish prompt: it’s time you and Coco take an important step in your relationship. notes: WOW! first fic of the decade. let me know if you like. i’m a bit rusty so the ending is a bit shit. and yes, i now write for the mayans. also, i know coco doesn’t live in an apartment, but bear with me.

—check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In the distance, the motorcycle rumble echoes throughout the neighborhood. You take this as a signal to grab your glass of water and go outside. As the motorcycle nears, getting louder, you take a seat on the porch steps. The beautiful arctic blue Harley stops right in front of your house with the silver rims shimmering in the moonlight. Ever since the Mayans started working with Galindo, more money started pouring into the M.C. Coco and the others took it upon themselves to splurge on their bikes. It's easily the best investment any of the members ever made.

Coco shuts the bike off while taking his helmet off and then hops off. He looks up and you smile at him. It's always nice to see him. He walks up to your front gate and waits, fidgeting a bit. Your smile drops and you sigh.

"You waiting for an invitation?" You call out loud enough for him to hear. You know he is, though. He always is. Even though you've been dating Coco for 8 months, Coco never stepped on your property without permission. It used to be endearing. Now, it's downright frustrating. As if he’s not comfortable enough to call this home. "Come on, baby."

He uses that as permission and pushes your broken gate open. He's promised to fix that gate for over two weeks but Galindo and the M.C keep him busy. Although he constantly apologizes, you don't rush him.

You never rush him.

"You know," you say as he sits next to you and lights up a cigarette. "you don't always need an invitation." He inhales his cigarette and shrugs. You sigh again and drink some water.

There's silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It is, however, a bit tense. Coco can be difficult to read sometimes. You don't know whether he wants to talk or not and you know he definitely will not offer any information without you asking. But you've had a long day and trying to find any emotional response from him is not on your agenda for the night. So, you sit there, letting the cool Santo Padre air ease your headache.

After some time passes, Coco puts out his cigarette. "You not talking to me?" He doesn't look at you when he asks. It's something he does, you notice. As if he's afraid that you'll tell him something hurtful and you'll be able to see how much it hurts him. ‘The eyes are the window to the soul’, he once told you. Angel made fun of him, but you could tell Coco genuinely believes that.

"Had a long day. I just want to relax."

He hums and pulls out his phone, the screen lights up with a photo of you and Letty in the background throwing water balloons at each other. It makes you smile fondly. You bet Coco never opens his phone around his brothers. He mumbles the time, noting that it's nearing midnight. Around this time, he always leaves.

He makes a move to get up. "I gotta go. Letty's home." You grab onto his arm.

"Hey, baby?" He looks at you. "Do you mind staying a bit? I have to talk to you about something."

His eyes shine with fear and it makes you hate the wording you used. But when you smile at him to ease the fear, he relents and gets comfortable beside you. Again, he looks away.

"You know how Letty is constantly over at my house for everything?" You wait for him to nod before continuing. "Well, I talked to her the other day and she went on a 15-minute rant about how much she hates your apartment. The halls stink of sewage, the walls are too thin, the toilet barely works, her room is too small, and there's plenty of more complaints trust and believe me." You laugh a bit, remembering how red in the face Letty got after she heard the next-door neighbor have sex for ‘8 hours straight’. You know Letty exaggerated most of her complaints to gain sympathy, but some of them did hold. There's a mixture of mildew and mold all over the apartment building and the plumbing system is atrocious. The fact that his apartment didn't even have a full bath system is also horrible. There's no way Letty and Coco could live together in such an ass area. Their relationship would just get worst before getting better.

Coco laughs with you, knowing just how dramatic Letty can get. "She ain't wrong."

"No, she isn't." And now, you were getting nervous. After spending over a month writing up the pros and cons of such a gigantic, important decision, you were ready to make a grand step in your life and relationship with both Coco and Letty. In the end, the only cons would be falling in love with Coco even more and wanting to be Letty's constant, supportive, and loving figure within her life.

Those aren't even real cons. They just make you extremely nervous because you're ready for these steps. But are they?

Despite the overwhelming nervousness bubbling at your core, you continue. You shuffle closer to him, with your knees touching his own and lean on him. Santo Padre's cool air can't even compete with Coco's warmth.

"I thought about those issues months before Letty even brought them up. I know living in those conditions isn't healthy and I know that better than most people. You might not think this impacts your relationship with Letty but it does. She doesn't come home because she's miserable there. And I know you are too. That's why you always visit me before going to that nasty apartment."

"So you don't want me here anymore?" His tone has an edge to it and you sigh.

"No, baby. That's the opposite of what I want." His head tilts down to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not trying to implement myself in your relationship with Letty. I'm not trying to be something I'm not. I just," You pause for a moment and take a deep breath. "I just think you and Letty deserve a better life. And maybe...just maybe that better life is with me."

You dig into your right jean pocket until you feel the warm metal in your hand. You give a shy smile when you discretely pass it into his hands. Looking down, he opens his hand to see a house key resting in his palm. His eyes widen for a moment before he looks away completely.

One of the hardest possibilities you could go through would be Coco rejecting the idea. After all, he only just got Letty. His mom couldn't be the woman Letty needed and to have some other woman enter his life, trying to push her way into her life is something you knew Coco would hate. Their lives are already fucked up. No need for someone to make it worse. Although you tried to prepare yourself for possible heartbreak beforehand, nothing could prepare you for the actual moment itself.

The pure anxiety is eating at you, gnawing at your heart and crawling up to your throat. Coco twirls the key in his hand while you're dying from anticipation.

"Coco," You start, unable to handle the intense moment. "I'm sorry, it's stupid. I know you wouldn't— "

"Do you mean it?" He looks up at you, unshed tears in his eyes. Your breath catches, unused to Coco showing such pure, raw emotion. All you could do is nod. "Say it."

"Johnny," You breath out "Will you and Leticia move in with me? In this house?"

Quickly, he leans into you, mouth hot against your own. Just like that, all the anxiousness disappears. He works on your lips a few seconds more before parting and resting his forehead against your own.

He whispers your name, his voice wavering as he continues. "Are you sure? You want all this toxic bullshit?"

"Everything you touch is gold, baby. You just need a little push to see that. So does Letty." He whispers your name again before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

After that, Coco constantly kisses you or hugs you with tears and happiness in his eyes. Eventually, he does leave to be with Letty and tell her the good news. You don't know exactly what the future holds, but you do know that you want Coco and Letty to be there every step of the way.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,404 published: march 11, 2020 edited: n/a

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suddenlysackler · 4 years ago

Text

Afterglow (Nice to Meet You Series)

Charlie Barber x Reader

Nice to Meet You: a series of one shots based off of this post. Previous installments can be found here:

Adam Sackler

TW: Lil bit of angst and cynicism at the beginning, mentions of divorce, breakups, anxiety, depression, mention of alcohol consumption

A/N: This is my first piece that I’ve posted in awhile, I’m so sorry for the content drought! This series is kind of sporadic atm (kind of a result of life) but I miss you all so very much. Here’s to a normal content schedule some day 💓 Thank you for reading!

...

Timing always tends to be a funny thing, you supposed.

You weren’t sure if you were an “everything happens for a reason” sort of person person, a person who believed in fate. Who believed in soulmates. You used to be that way six years ago, before the reality of life and relationships and loss and grief and disappointment and all of the wonderful bad things had gotten to you. Had snatched up who you were, chewed that essence up, and spit it right back out.

So here you were, one year removed from when everything essentially blew up in your face, leaving you to rebuild.

And here Charlie was, coming off one of the worst years of his life, knowing almost exactly how you felt.

The cynic in you is saying that it’s just too cliché, the two of you being so broken and finding each other like this.

The small voice in the back of your mind that’s still clinging to the dreamer you once were? It’s telling you that the two of you were meant to find each other and, yeah, you roll your eyes every time the thought crosses your mind. However, with each passing day, you become more and more convinced that it was true.

How embarrassing.

It’s one of those rare September days that happen before the seasons change, when it feels more like mid October than the last few days of summer. Your cheeks are burning from the wind that whips your hair everywhere, a pleasant cold that you’d longed for over the summer months. The hot coffee in your hand threatens to spill from it’s cup and you take tentative sips when you absolutely have to stop at crosswalks and wait for cars to go by before darting out again.

Naturally, you were running late to the Saturday morning meeting of people on the New York theater scene planning for what the industry calls red bucket season. In the aftermath of all of the loss and grief and spiraling thoughts last fall you had finally said yes to the constant begging of your coworkers in the marketing department at Schubert and started to become more heavily involved with Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids. The overwhelming joy that came with the annual Flea Market in the Schubert Ally last September had given you hope to last all the way through to red bucket season, which carried you into the spring and helped you to feel like you were doing something productive with your time other than sleep, eat, work, and cry.

You’d met people from different companies in the theater world, met so many lovely actors and musicians and dressers and heads of house and developed a net to busy yourself, to affirm your sense of self worth, to get a drink with on a Sunday afternoon when the ghost light was finally turned on after the matinee crowd had finally cleared the stage door and the last member of the orchestra had said goodnight.

Taking a deep breath and glancing at your watch only to see that you were fifteen minutes late, you swallow and push your way through the doors, cheeks heating up even more if at all possible. There isn’t anyone you know staring back at you when all twenty something people turn to see who had arrived late and interrupted the meeting’s organizer. You cringe internally as you call out a simple apology and slip into the first vacant seat that catches your eye.

Enter Charlie Barber.

His head whipped back when everyone else’s had. He had looked you up and down, tried to see if you were anyone he knew like everyone else in the room. He couldn’t see you, didn’t really see you until you plopped down next to him, wind blown and flustered and absolutely breathtaking.

Post divorce finalization, Charlie had decided that he wasn’t going to go looking for someone else. He didn’t need someone to come in and pick up all the pieces or any of that bullshit. He wasn’t looking for a savior to fix it all —grief was something to handle on your own in his eyes.

As you lean over and whisper another apology to him specifically, as if you had inconvenienced him personally by sweeping into the room late and choosing to sit next to him and draw attention to him too, Charlie feels like he’s been hit by a truck. The simple apology rings like a crescendo through his head and chest and he feels it in his bones. He rushes out his acknowledgement, tells you it’s okay, but he feels like his mouth has turned into molasses.

About halfway through the presentation, he leans over and nudges you, pointing out a typo in the slide presentation. It’s a bold move, all things considered — you did know the woman running the meeting, she was your boss and someone you considered to be a close acquaintance. You’d mentioned as much when Charlie had turned to you during some dumb partner exercise she had made you all do to get to know each other.

The stifled laughter that bubbles past your lips rivals any top forty hit that played in the background when Charlie got his coffee that morning, much earlier than you, in the coffee shop three blocks from the auditorium you were now sitting in. Suddenly, he finds himself obsessing over how it would sound uninhibited by the social circumstances. He wants to make you laugh over and over again.

It’s chance that the two of you are assigned to help run the first red bucket training session of the season before the first performance of a long running musical that you had never seen nor cared to have seen three days later. It’s close to dinner time and you’ve had a long day at the office. Charlie’s had a long day too, a long few days thinking about when he’d see you again. How well the two of you had gotten on, how your hands had brushed over each other at the stupid little food spread during your break on Saturday.

He thinks about what he should wear, what you’d be wearing, if you’d want to run across the street afterwards and split a pie at the local pizza joint that all of the tourists frequented before shows, wanting to get an “authentic” slice but not wanting to stray to far from the familiarity of the theater district and Times Square in all of it’s grubby, overrated glory.

Charlie doesn’t assume he’d even crossed your mind since you parted ways Saturday. He figures you’re busy, that you aren’t looking for anything because you’re just fine on your own or maybe you’re with somebody else. He doesn’t chance snooping on your social media to break the lovely reverie dancing in his head as he falls asleep Saturday, Sunday, and Monday evening. The one where he gets to start over, gets to start a relationship that’s based in equal footing and rationality rather than fear and chaotic emotions and limelight.

Little does he know that you’ve been thinking about him too, your mind reeling with the same possibilities for yourself. It scared you more than anything that you’d even begun to entertain those types of thoughts.

You knew he’d just come off of an ugly divorce. Hell, you knew who he was when you had plopped down next to him and caught a glimpse of his furrowed brow and broad shouldered stature. You hadn’t expected someone as busy as him, as important as him to be here with the rest of you, all minor players in the theater world for the most part. You certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy your time with him and dance almost the whole way home because you were so excited that you’d been given the opportunity to see him again.

Was it worth asking him to hang out after the meeting? Would he laugh in your face? Turn you down politely and tell you he’d see you at your next assigned training session? Would he ignore it and walk out to meet someone else and kiss them under the lights of the marquees?

You spent the whole meeting wondering how you would ask him, if you would even ask him. You worked on autopilot, completely preoccupied with stealing glances across the room at Charlie, joking with Charlie during breaks, brushing Charlie’s hand when you passed him paper...Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

“Nice work tonight.” A baritone voice pulls you from your thoughts and you glance up to see the man himself, eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiles down at you while the cast filters back stage.

You start to clean things up, trying to busy yourself so you don’t put your foot in your mouth. “You too, Charlie.” You hum, mentally kicking yourself because wow were you lame. You could have said anything else and you just echoed his words instead? Your chances were slipping right through your fingers.

He picks at lint on his sweater that isn’t even there, kicks some invisible object as he watches you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before last weekend? Charlotte told me you’ve been with Schubert for awhile now and both of my shows have been in Schubert buildings. So’s my third.”

“You were talking to Charlotte about me?” You ask, head snapping up with a shit eating grin. He was talking about you with other people?

Charlie’s cheeks go bright red and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. He stumbles over his words, tries to come up with any other explanation to hide the truth of why he had asked Charlotte about you. Before he could say anything else, you swallow your nerves, then stand up straighter.

“Because maybe I’ve been talking to her about you.” You shrug — you hadn’t really. Hell, you don’t even know why the words came out of your mouth.

His eyes sparkle a bit as he tilts his head. “Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The man standing across from you grabs an armful of infographics and slips them into the box that was meant to go to the head of house, to have on hand for people interested in donating. “Charlotte mentioned you liked pizza.” He says and, of course, it couldn’t have been true, you didn’t know Charlotte that well, but you appreciated the effort.

You smile and take a step forward, looking him up and down shyly. “Maybe I do.”

Charlie snorts, rolls his eyes, then nudges you playfully for good measure as he prays that he’s reading the room correctly. “Well maybe you’d want to get some with me?”

You half hear the question. He’s so handsome and you wonder if he knows it. If he knows he’s had you weak at the knees since the minute you’d made eye contact with him Saturday. “Maybe I’d like that.” You say, eyes round and full of wonder.

He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s a date then.”

“You want to call it a date?” Butterflies are now running rampant in your stomach.

“Maybe.”

You’re both grinning from ear to ear now, faces hot and hands sweaty and shaking. “If you’re calling it a date, then yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

So Charlie takes you across the street and you each eat half a pizza, laughing over cheap wine and talking about how snooty actors could be. How demanding the stage door was. Your respective backgrounds in theater, his early success, your acceptance of the fact that you wouldn’t make it big and it was better to just settle into marketing and still be in the industry. Job security and such.

He takes your hand outside of the restaurant as you lead him toward the local bakery that sells cookies fresh from the oven.

You intertwine your fingers with his while you stand in line for hot chocolate as dusk turns to night in Central Park.

He kisses you after wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth on the Brooklyn bound A train a half hour later. And again on your stoop when you finally arrive home.

He kisses you another time after he gives you his number and then once more when he realizes he’s only a ten minute walk from your apartment.

After heading upstairs, showering, doing some dirty dishes, and then plopping onto your bed, you smile when you see three texts from Charlie on your phone’s lock screen. Was it cliché to say that he had swooped in and fixed everything? Yeah and he didn’t fix anything really. He’d kissed you a few times and held your hand, sure, and he seemed like he wanted more. You wanted more too, but that didn’t mean that you were healed.

All you did know was that the hopeless romantic in you was louder than they had been for the better part of two years and you couldn’t stop smiling and wondering if it was coincidence that you had plopped down next to Charlie Barber during the meeting. Was it coincidence that the barista had taken longer with your latte that morning or was it fate telling you to take a deep breath and hold on tight because in a matter of minutes, you’d be meeting someone special.

#Charlie Barber #Adam Driver #Marriage Story #reader self insert #Charlie x reader #Charlie Barber x reader #Charlie #Charlie Barber fic #Charlie fic #Marriage Story fic #charlie barber x you #charlie x you #charlie barber reader insert

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zombolouge · 4 years ago

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⭐⭐⭐!! I'm behind on catching up with Indefensible (bc I am also in the US and have been Big Overwhelmed too, so sending positive mental health vibes your way as well), so I will leave it to you to pick a part of a fic that you are most dying to discuss!

AH bb take your time catching up, there’s no rush!! It will still be there whenever you’re ready <3 I will send some positive mental health vibes right back at you, lord knows all of us in the US really need them lol

Okay, so my pick for this...hmmm, why don’t we talk about TRAUMA. I’ve had a lot of people comment about how I handle everyone’s trauma in the series, so I figure that’s a solid point of interest :)

I knew I was going to be writing this fic before I had actually played all the games, which gave me a bit of an advantage from a writing perspective because I actually took a HUGE amount of notes while I played. The most important of these notes were pages that I called “Lists of Trauma”. And I had one for every character. I would set them up every time I saw something in the games that would have been potentially traumatic, including backstory stuff that came to light. Then I’d write down what the trauma was, when it occurred, and how I felt it would affect them (both immediately and long term).

Pretty much everybody gets that Miles Edgeworth is traumatized. The game does a decent job of showing some of that, by giving him PTSD and mentioning his fear of elevators, using his recurring nightmares as a plot point, etc. But Miles is by FAR not the only one in the series traumatized. Pretty much every case is enough to send someone to therapy for a hell of a long time, but it’s not always highlighted as much as Miles, and I think it’s easy to brush everyone else’s trauma under the rug because their coping methods were a little more understated. I do think the evidence is there in the games, but it’s not obvious (Capcom puts a lot more subtlety in there than I initially would have expected. Either that or I’m adding subtext on my own and giving them too much credit. EITHER WAY, it did give me a lot to study and pick apart.)

One of the biggest themes in my writing is addressing and processing trauma (lol can you tell I have trauma I have worked on processing? hahaha). I tend to lean towards doing it in healthy and productive ways, as well, so I was HYPERFOCUSED on all the events happening to each individual character. By the end of the canon storylines, I had a pretty solid idea of what people still needed to work through and how things were holding them back, which is honestly how I arrived at some of the plotlines I did. They’re all engineered to be ways to push the characters where they need to be in order to heal. Or at least to grow (full healing is gonna take decades and y’all I can’t be writing this for the rest of my life haha)

In some cases, like with Phoenix and Miles and their relationship, I knew that it was going to involve a massive breaking point to get them anywhere. It’s been decades in game-time and they haven’t taken very many steps forward, which tells me that repression is so ingrained you basically have to make them completely snap and land in a place of “nothing left to lose” before they’d take any more steps. Hence the remote location and the cold temperatures and them working together and the closet scene and the hot tub scene and the spit-take scene and the obvious trap and...etc. Really had to slam their damn heads together repeatedly for this one.

But their trauma, while being some of the most obvious, wasn’t the only kind I wanted to address. Like, seeing everything play out with Apollo and Dhurke, I just kept thinking how fuckin badly that would mess someone up, and that isn’t even considering what he’d gone through BEFORE that (former boss was a murderer, and the ways he found out weren’t the softest. Best friend murdered, and the circumstances around it ended up with him getting physically injured TWICE. There’s a lot going on with that poor boy.) And Maya, who is forever cheery in the games, always struck me as someone who hid any negative emotions at all costs, and holy shit she has to have a few. She’s been accused of murder, manipulated by family, her sister was murdered, she had to raise her cousin from a young age, she’s been kidnapped MULTIPLE TIMES, had her body taken over by someone that DEFINITELY wanted to kill her and her best friend. On top of that, the first games make it pretty clear she has some inferiority issues, and alllll those traumatic situations would have only fed into it. I think she got really good at covering that up rather than really good at feeling confident.

Pretty much all the characters got trauma’d at one point or another, and the timeline over the span of canon basically meant that nobody ever had much time to recover before some other bullshit was happening. It’s why many of the characters in Indefensible, sometimes more than once, have opined about it being neverending or how they were losing hope that they’d ever have a whole year that was just normal.

I’ve included so many scenes where they are just breaking down and talking about feelings, because holy fuck they all need to. lol It’s also why I ended up jumping on the FranMaya bandwagon so hard because the way that the pair of them are traumatized and how they handle it is very complementary to each other. I think they’re both able to pull the dark out and soothe it within one another, keep each other from overthinking things, and provide a sudden rock to lean on when things get difficult again. If they didn’t have each other, I think the second half of Indefensible wouldn’t work as well, because Franziska absolutely would have snapped irreparably. But, uh, that won’t make as much sense until later. ;)

Anyways, this was long and rambly and I could probably make a separate post about each individual character’s trauma and how the fic is designed to shine a spotlight on it and get them to start processing it. I THINK ABOUT THIS STUFF A LOT, OKAY?

Link to the fic if anybody needs it: Indefensible

#zombolouge writes #ace attorney #indefensible #fanfiction #talkin bout trauma #I spent SO MUCH TIME picking apart their behavior in relation to their trauma #hopefully it's paying off as people read hehe #Anonymous

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1zashreena1 · 4 years ago

Text

No Shame 8

Pairing: M/F, OC/Priest!Diego (OR NOT) Jimenez [Starz Power] AU IMAGINE

Rating: LITERAL FILTH

Warnings: feelings-dick-feelings sandwich, Too Cute, MOAR BABIES, the babies are in danger, sand gets everywhere, power imbalance, astronomical blasphemy, Diego’s pornographic mouth, old timey woman related bullshit, consent issues, set some time before 1900 in what will be present day Mexico.

Summary: Remember the Zorro TV shows? And the movie? And also Beauty and the Beast? It’s like that but with Diego dick.

A/N: I guess I’m just gonna keep writing until it stops?? I am an atheist so please keep that in mind as I unintentionally mangle Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. This was prompted by an ask, you know who you are >.>

Tag a friend! @girlpornparadise @nicke0115 @fleurfatale89 @mandoplease @heresathreebee @chensingmachinee @kid-from-new-zealand @xxidontwikeitxx @demoncatstone @allalngthewtchtower @dirtynerdy98 @lettherebrelight

Everything is dark again. You blink repeatedly before realizing it is not you, the sun has already set. Moonlight is shimmering on the patio tiles in the little courtyard, Did he leave the doors open?

Diego is not in the bed, but the bedroom door is open. You slide off the side of the bed and wince, your poor little parts are sore. Between the paddle, his beard, and the pounding, you are limping ever so slightly. As you round into the bathroom you encounter Diego standing at the sink, drying his hands.

Oddly enough, he is wearing all black.

"Hello." You whisper softly, unsure if you are interrupting. The smile he turns on you is both reassuring and decimating. No one needs to look so good, with those damn dimples.

"There you are. I have clothing for you," Diego indicates a small stack on the countertop, "Meet me in the kitchen after you dress. We are going on an adventure." His voice is excited, he is fairly quivering with anticipation. He steps forward to cup your chin in those beautiful hands, kisses your forehead, and then squeezes past you to disappear down the hall.

What just happened?

What is about to happen?

You wash your face and braid your hair before dressing, the clothing is a simple ensemble of a shirt and flowing… pants? They resemble a split skirt except the material is very similar to the shirt; loose and airy, and the "split" goes high up like pants. It is ridiculously comfortable and you are actually a bit angry that something like this existed and you did not know of it. Your short boots are waiting for you in the middle of the bedroom floor. Message received, Diego, you chuckle as you don them.

Diego is in the kitchen eating without you.

"Hey! I want food." You pout immaturely. Diego only smiles and hands over his half full plate. You realize that he was planning on sharing it with you to begin with and feel a bit self-conscious. Oh, it does not stop you from eating, of course, but you do catch brown eyes watching you amusedly.

Diego leads you to the stables where Dante is already saddled and waiting. To his side is the Friesian mare who birthed Cirrus, also saddled and waiting for you. Delilah is pleased to see you, she huffs in your face and nickers gently. Dante, ever so much like his master, demands some of your attention before you are permitted to mount. You kiss his velvety muzzle, then let Diego boost you up.

Delilah is actually a bit larger than Dante, you are of an even height with Diego once both seated. Although he does tend to treat you as an equal, it is nice to not have to look up at him for once.

"Where are we going?" The question has to be called after him because Diego is leading you away. It does not require much effort on your part, horses naturally want to keep together. You trust Delilah's sure footing in the darkness.

Diego turns back and smiles, you can see his teeth glittering in the full moonlight, to tell you, "The ocean, little girl."

Huh?

"In the middle of the night?" Confusion colors your voice. You wonder what the purpose of this little expedition is. Delilah follows Dante when the path narrows through the forest, but she sidles up alongside every time the road is wide enough.

"This is a very particular night during a particular time. I think you will enjoy it very much." Diego is so very proud, he reminds you of a child that simply KNOWS you are going to LOVE their gift.

You pass through some archways of thick foliage, then a hall like structure carved through a cliffside, to pop out onto a beach. It is stunning.

The sand is wide and dark, both outer ends of the beach are buttressed by cliffside, but dense rainforest forms the backdrop for most of this cove. The waves crash in the distance, there is much wet sand visible where the tide has gone out. The moonlight twinkles like gemstones on the water and the air is filled with the sounds of wildlife.

You do not realize you are crying until the burning tears roll down your cheeks. Never before have you seen anything like this. Its is profoundly large and awe inspiring, you feel very tiny and overwhelmed. Diego circles back to check on you.

"Are you unhappy?" He is watching you intently, trying to judge your mood.

"It is beautiful, Diego." You turn to him in a daze. Your grateful whisper is bursting with emotion, "Thank you."

He smiles broadly and looks so...soft. one large hand comes up in offering, you take it without thinking. Dante sidesteps closer until all four of you are pressed together. Diego indicates an unremarkable patch of sand in the distance with a soft, "Watch."

Nothing happens for a long few minutes until suddenly the sand is moving. You lean forward and squint, trying to comprehend what you are seeing. Slowly but surely, tiny things are emerging from the ground and heading out to sea. They look like some kind of sea creatures?

"What is that?" You breathe.

"Baby sea turtles. They hatch and run directly for the safety of the water. I come down here on the nights of the full moon during this season." Diego explains without a hint of condescension. When you look to him you notice that he is watching the sky.

"Why?" It is clear that he has a purpose in doing this.

"The full moon shows the babies easily, it draws the sea birds. I can chase them away so the little ones have a better chance."

This man is never what he seems.

You watch him in wonder, then look down to your small hand in his large one. It takes a moment for your epiphany to sink in, but when it does…

This is what I want.

I want Diego.

Tugging on his hand, you bring his attention back to you. Diego's eyes are black in the darkness, his face open and interested in whatever you are about to do. You take in the broad shoulders, his strong neck and wide chest, every perfectly blessed inch of him. It is easy to see his strength, but even easier for you to see is his gentle softness. The easy way he handles horses, the warm care for these itty bitty wild creatures that give nothing back to him. His eagerness to please you, to provide for you, is like nothing you have ever known.

You are kissing before you can think to lean into him. Soft lips, scratchy beard, and hot tongue become the focus of your world. Everything is a blur, you are moving, being lifted and carried, it does not matter because the kissing never stops. Your feet are on the ground, then your butt, Diego is on top, you pull and tug on his clothing, and then it is nothing but his skin on yours. Every inch you can reach, can kiss, receives special treatment. He has a breast in his mouth and a hand between your legs, it is not enough. It will never be enough.

Reaching down between your bodies to stroke his length vibrates a groan into the nipple to which he is attached. It feels heavenly but you know it could be sublime if he would just take you already. He is hard and leaking, you swipe up yourself and spread the wetness over his erection to entice him. When that fails you admit total defeat and simply beg, "Please, please Diego. Need you."

"Yes, little girl." Diego mutters as he positions himself over you, rubbing the head through your folds as he hisses in pleasure. Your writhing is either very tempting or highly unhelpful because he laces his fingers with yours and holds you down to the sand.

"Look at me." He growls, teeth clenched and brow furrowed. You drown in his gaze, deeper than the ocean beyond. Diego swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, "Be mine, little girl. Say yes to me right now, let me have you, let me keep you."

His need washes over you, stronger than any tide, and you want nothing more than to be swept away. Carried off to never return to the life you once knew. It is terrible and exhilarating and you want it, oh, do you want it.

"Yes. Yes!" Nodding, you cry as he fills you entirely. It feels as though your whole body has been hollowed only for Diego to complete you. He buries his face in your neck and worries the sensitive skin with his teeth. You wrap your legs around his hips and urge him faster. Everything outside of the two of you is blurry nonsense, so far beneath your concern.

"Little girl, you are mine. Will fill you, please you, keep you. Mine, mine, come for Father." That rough voice is breathy with emotion, his demanding pleas cannot be ignored when he makes you feel so very good. Your fingers curl into his broad shoulders, you can feel every sinful inch of him throbbing inside you, Diego kisses up your neck as you tighten around him. So close, please, please, yes.

"That is it. Give yourself to me. Be mine, my good little girl, Zera." He pants into your ear. Your spine bows as you crest, rippling down around him in ecstatic spasms. The resistance of his thick heat buried deep only heightens your pleasure. You assume you are making noise, but you do not care. Diego whines softly as he follows you, grinding deep.

The collapse of his big body on top of you is more comforting than stifling. Both of you lie there, chests heaving, until something touches your foot. The pitch of your shriek startles everyone on the beach. Diego rolls to his back and carries you with him, cradled into his lap for safety. The horses are over by the treeline sneaking illicit snacks. You whip around to find the source of your terror and-

It is a tiny little turtle.

There is a nest opening just past where your feet were and dozens of the babies are tunneling out, making their way to the water.

"Oh." You utter lamely.

Diego flops to his back and laughs until he cries, there are snorts, too, just for good measure. You want to be irritated that he is laughing at you but it is not possible. Rather, you plop your torso across his and join him. The little ones pay no mind to the insane humans.

Diego brushes the sand off of your back and you wince, the scratches from earlier in the week are still tender. A cascade of sand flows across his chest when you turn your head and your hair shakes. You eye the water intently.

"What are the currents like? Or the sand beyond the waterline?" The questions take Diego by surprise.

"Do you truly mean to swim in the ocean? Right now?" He gawks at you. Really, is that scoff necessary?

"... yes? I can swim. And rather well at that. I have been in the ocean before, too." You lift your chin in defiance.

"There is a steep drop off out further, but if you stick to waist height or so it should be fine. The sand is the same, currents are fine until the drop." Diego answers dazedly as you stand in front of him, nude in the moonlight. Despite having spent inside you mere minutes ago, he looks ravenous again.

"Are you coming?" Your taunt is delivered over your shoulder as you stroll away, his dark eyes are trained on your rump. He really does like it.

The water is a bit more chilly than you expected, it hardens your nipples with a shiver. A heart attack is provided to you free of charge when you turn back. You cannot stop the whimper, That man should come with a warning.

Diego stalking to you, emblazoned in ethereal moonlight, completely and blessedly nude, needs to be the last thing you see before you die. Maybe Mother was right and there is a God.

You manage to focus long enough to rinse off most of the sand, your hair is now ten pounds heavier with seawater. Diego, of course, completes the entire activity with devastating grace and no small show of gleaming muscles. Your entire train of thought has narrowed down to 'hrrrrrrrr' when something brushes your leg in the waist deep water. When you look down you see the triangular tip of a fin and your brain locks up.

"We have to get out. Now!" You hiss as the long shadow under the water circles further away.

"What? What is wrong?" Diego’s confusion turns into determination to protect you the instant he sees your face. All you can do is point to the shadow with a trembling hand. Diego grabs your waist and pushes, "Go. Quickly but controlled. Try not to splash."

You do as he says, trusting him at your back. The water has lowered to your knees when you hear a splash and turn just in time to watch Diego punch a shark.

You reach out and snatch his other wrist to yank him out of the water with you. In a mostly controlled fall you both collapse to the sand above the waterline. Diego is watching the water, you are watching him.

"Are you hurt?" The breathless anxiety of your question is loud in the night. Diego shakes his head but continues glaring at the ocean. You cannot see anything out there, so you ask, "What is it?"

Diego’s jaw grinds before he answers you, "It is eating the babies." And he cannot do anything about it. The anguished frustration in his voice breaks your heart. You slide next to him and wrap your arms around his larger one. Tentatively, your fingers stroke over his palm, Diego laces his fingers through yours with no hesitation.

"You cannot protect all the babies. And the shark still needs to eat. I am sorry." Unsure if that is helpful or not, you still have to try. He sighs deeply and nods, resigned to the morbid knowledge.

"I know. And I know it is the way of things. But they are babies!" He sputters indignantly.

Hysterical giggles are bubbling up in your chest, you struggle to keep it down. You are going to lose this battle and you know it. Diego looks down at you when an aborted snort escapes, his questioning brow breaks you.

"YOU PUNCHED A SHARK!" You shriek madly and dissolve. It is too much, you cannot process this, you are going to vomit from laughter. Folding in half, you howl into your own stomach and cry. Diego is chuckling beside you, not that you can hear it over yourself, but his shoulders are shaking with it. He has to drag you to the horses where you both dress, him quickly and efficiently, you in mangled spurts of action and chortles.

The stablehands are waiting for your return, they take the horses and Diego ushers you inside. Your body melts into the bed and you are fast asleep before you can laugh yourself silly again.

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

Something large and heavy is on your chest. It is very bright and you do not like it. Squinting downward, you see a rowdy mass of brown hair, Oh yes, a Diego.

The large man is on top of you, his head pillowed on your bosom. Diego snuffles softly and burrows in deeper, tickling you with his scruff. One huge hand is next to your head, it is the left. You cannot help but remember last night.

Was that a proposal? Did I accidentally agree to get married again? It makes no sense, he is already receiving all the benefits of a union without the hassles.

The sheet is bunched up above his rear, with a few gentle tugs from your toes it is slowly revealed. You do rather enjoy looking at him. The sudden urge to put your mouth on him is suffocating. I wonder if I could move without waking him.

The answer is no, as the second you move more than a few inches Diego pops upright in startlement. You freeze and watch him carefully. After confirming that there is no threat he looks down to your chest, then up to your face. Amazing.

"Do you need up?" The rasping voice is even more hoarse first thing in the morning and it makes you tingle.

"No. I just wanted to touch you. And, er, maybe, other… things?" Your squirming only makes your chest jiggle and Diego is delighted with all of your responses. Those huge hands cup your breasts and you moan. Loudly.

"Oh yes, you must wake me every time you get these urges. I will help you absolve yourself of these sinful thoughts." Diego purrs, eyes closing with pleasure as he grinds his growing length against your crotch.

"Wait, I mean yes please, but, I, I had a thought. Something to try? Maybe?" You stutter through the request, rolling your hips with his movements.

"Yes, little girl. Tell me your idea. You have the best ideas." Diego is flattening your breasts, leaning down to lap over your nipples in lazy rounds. Your hands cover his and you moan as your legs come up.

"Well I want you to, to, um, to lick me. But! I also want to, to do, the same, to you." The squeaky confession is so humiliating that you cover your face briefly. Diego's warm chuckle is not as reassuring as it should be.

"And how do you propose to do both simultaneously, hmm? What devious method have you devised to achieve this level of filthy debauchery?" His rumble is much closer, when you peek out between your fingers he is in your face, licking his lips lasciviously. Your center clenches tight.

"What if you lay o-on your back and I-" you cannot believe this is coming out of your mouth, "I lay on top of you, but, but like yesterday? Facing away, you see."

Diego has stopped moving.

You peer over your fingers to look at him. The bearded jaw hangs open and those brown eyes are very round. I have gone too far. This is too much. I am truly a whore, depraved, prurient, disgusting, irredeemable--

"You. Are. Brilliant."

Diego is rushing to get off of you, throwing himself down on the bed, and dragging your body to him. This is… not the response you were expecting. Really, Zera? The man is the most perverted person you have ever encountered.

He tosses you onto his chest as you yelp and pulls your hips up to his face. You can feel his hot breath on your core and you quiver with anticipation. There is only one problem: you cannot reach his erection.

"I need to be closer, I cannot rea-eeeech!" You squawk as he licks you from top to bottom. Oh yes, there it is. Your hips follow him wantonly. Diego scoots upward, you get carried along, until he is propped against the headboard. This moves his head closer to you and thus you can move further down on him and, well, now your face is full of cock.

Resting your full weight on him earns you a sigh, but the strangled groan brought on by wrapping both hands around his length is even better. It is easier this way, he cannot see your awkward facial expressions, you feel freer to be more exuberant with your activities. The first lick you manage makes his hips jerk. The needy whine he emits fills you with power.

Diego palms your rear enthusiastically, much to your pleasure. It seems you really, really, like to be touched there. You moan around the head of his cock and Diego hisses, "Sí, little girl. Take it into your mouth, you like my cock?"

Pulling off with an absolutely disgusting slurp, you answer him slyly, "Almost as much as you like my buttocks."

Honestly, you should have expected the slap.

"Again!" You demand imperiously before diving back down onto his length.

"Oh, you bad girl. Do you need to be spanked while you suck my cock?" Diego coos conceitedly. Your nod and muffled 'mm-hmm' earns you several more slaps. Each one is harder than the last until he is pushing you down on his erection with every impact. Everything about this makes you writhe desperately. His leaking manhood tastes divine, the big hands on your cheeks perfectly overwhelming, and the feel of him panting into your most highly forbidden place; it is all so very good.

"Look at you," Diego breathes, "Dripping wet and slobbering on my cock. Beautiful." His hands hold you open, He must be able to see inside me, it is humiliating and enticing and very confusing. He goes on obliviously, "Such a pretty little thing, open and wet for Father. Let me see you squeeze--"

You are obeying without thought, clenching down hard and hoping he can see the rippling of your muscles. His pained moan confirms it is visible. Your answering moan makes his cock jump in your mouth.

"Yes, oh sí, good girl." Diego growls, his hips twitch and you dig your nails into his skin, the growl turns into a whine. Maybe I am not the only one who likes rougher handling…

Experimentally, you rake nails over his thighs. Diego parts his legs and pants into your center. You let your hands slide between and claw into the muscle, Diego jerks and moans. Feeling exceptionally bold today, you decide to lightly hit him on his inner thigh.

The slap echoes loudly, but his moan is louder yet.

Before you can raise your hand to repeat the action he is yanking you up a bit and attacking your core. He is licking and sucking as if starved, the avalanche of sensation renders you boneless. The hot, wet pressure is almost too much. Diego takes advantage of your limpness to thrust into your mouth.

It should be insulting for him to use you thusly. It arouses you beyond your understanding. You try a few different angles and positions before settling on one that allows him smooth motion but keeps him from going deep enough to choke you. His girth requires your jaw to be held widely open and every time he withdraws you get a taste of saltiness.

Diego is growling incessantly, the vibrations feel amazing but you are too overwhelmed to reach completion while this is happening. The sensory overload is maddening. He is leaking profusely, it will not be much longer for him. You pull off to usher him along, you are feeling very bold today indeed.

"I want to swallow it. Give me what I want, Father."

The big body under yours shakes as Diego grips your hips hard enough to bruise and takes your mouth as he has taken your womanhood. You hang on and struggle to breathe, his beard is rubbing your nub harshly. The erratic thrusts are chaotic, haphazard and hurried, Diego is frantic. You moan lowly and it pushes him over the edge.

One huge hand lands on your head, holding you down as his straining length pours down your throat. Your eyes water as you pant through your nose, trying to swallow without gagging. Diego's hips twitch violently as he sobs into your folds.

Finally, he collapses to the bed, his heaving chest bouncing you. The flow has tapered off, you pull back and wipe your mouth with a few soft coughs. Diego releases you deliberately, you can feel his hands shaking as they leave your body.

"That was not too much? Still acceptable?" You ask anxiously, ever afraid that you will go too far. The growing silence makes your eyes burn with unshed tears, I will always be too much.

"You? Little girl. Zera. Turn around." Diego rasps. You are embarrassed, but somehow powerless to disobey this man. Sliding off to the side and turning around, you keep your head down and your eyes turned away. He sits up somewhat and gestures for you to come to him. Trembling, you do as requested. His hands grip your ribcage and he lifts you over him, you assist unthinkingly by moving your legs out of the way. Now straddling his wide chest, you have nowhere to look but at him. Diego cups your face and sighs up at you with big brown eyes.

"You may be the most aberrantly and perfectly perverse woman I have ever met. There is no such thing as too far if that is where you are going. Now come up here and receive your reward for being a very good girl who swallows my cock." Diego waggles his eyebrows at you ridiculously and you cannot help but laugh.

"Fine, but what do you mean 'come up here' ?" You are already on top of him, what more could be required? Diego releases your face to grip your rump again. He uses the hold to drag you up, up until your knees go over his shoulders, his face disappears beneath your crotch, and there is no way to mistake his intention. OH.

The first lick bows your back, the second brings your clawing fingers to the headboard, and the third makes you keen brokenly. Your hips want to follow his tongue, Is that allowed? It must be. You roll over him and Diego moans happily. His hands cup your butt cheeks to urge you on with enthusiasm. Taking him at his word, or moan, you slowly ease into motion. It takes no time at all and his constant happy noises until you are riding his face as you would his manhood.

The feel of his tongue covering nearly all of you is glorious. You try different pressures, resting ever more of your weight on him until it is perfect. The fear of smothering him eases as Diego is making a never ending stream of pleased sounds. The vibrations make your eyes roll back, his tongue is soft and hot, the beard rubs you deliciously, and those damn hands are gripping you so tightly.

"I-- oh, this is. You, yes, yesss." Your mouth does not require your consent. "Please, please, yes, this feels so good." Diego moans as you whine. Your hips jerk ever faster, his tongue presses insistently on the focal point of your pleasure. It is deliriously good. He clutches and massages your rear, he has not forgotten that you like for it to receive attention. Those long fingers slip between to rub everything he can reach. It is your undoing.

"Oh, yes, yes! Ahhhh!" If you had any sanity left you would be mortified to hear yourself. Your whole body quivers, your stomach tightens, and you clench down on emptiness as you come apart. The rounds of contractions are strong, waves of pleasure deep.

Your forehead crashes to the wall as you go limp, but Diego is not finished. He continues with his tongue, but his fingers come forward under you to slip inside. The noise you make into the wall is barely human. That wicked tongue never pauses as he uses his fingers in lieu of his cock. Long, slow, deep strokes into you as he laps over your very happy bud in infinite licks. You shake through another peak, sobbing into your arms, letting him do whatever he wishes.

You flinch away as it eases, everything is sore, and he releases you with no struggle. He knows I am not going anywhere, you chuckle to yourself. You sink down next to him in a heap, still panting. Diego looks extraordinarily pleased. He opens his mouth and you swoop down before he can start talking.

His facial hair is wet, it is tangy and salty, similar but different to the taste of his seed. You like this, too. The kisses are languid, you are both still tired.

"Mmm. Sleep, little girl. We have an errand to complete later." Diego rumbles into your mouth, licking over your lips one last time as he settles your smaller body into his. You are too tired to fight.

"What doing?" You yawn into his ribs.

"Mm, town. Go into town." Diego murmurs as he pets you down. Despite your misgivings, Diego can soothe you into calm unconsciousness with ease. You trust this man and he clearly means to take care of you.

Just once, maybe I will let someone else handle things.

#damnit diego #don diego #maurice compte #starz power diego jimenez #diego imagine au 1 #zash writes #doesnt matter what universe he is still a sugar daddy #he likes babies ok????#sharks gonna shark

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