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#second one is the fight unraveling completely and ending in fists
cherubchoirs · 2 years
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[ultrakill]
so thankful for the 6-2 taunts amen
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yns-world · 2 years
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uninvited guest - yan! elliot alderson x reader
title: uninvited guest
pairing: yan! elliot alderson x reader
tags: racially ambiguous, gender neutral reader, any size reader
summary: elliot breaks in but something else happens 😏
warnings: break in, stalker behavior, slight nsfw
a/n: @westernbaby here is your request for topping yan! elliot <3 ALSO I'M SO IN LOVE WITH THIS GIF I NEED TO USE IT ALL THE TIME NOW
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Elliot didn’t mean any of this-- truly, he never did. In a way, he was astonished himself to see his perfect plan unravel in front of his eyes. He never predicted for you to be awake; he never intended to scare you; he never prepared for you to react so violently.
I mean, really, what did you expect Elliot to do when he saw your open window? Elliot’s been on the edge of his seat for weeks ever since he met you and fell into an endless well of love for you. Your window was just an open invitation. 
But what puzzled Elliot was how did this go wrong? He was always so careful, so attentive to every detail, so how did he mess up so badly for this to be happening? Elliot’s been watching you for weeks, so he knew all of your habits by heart. You should be asleep right now, you have such a long day tomorrow. It’s not like you had any important show that you needed to catch up on or work you needed to finish, so why were you up?
That’s no longer important-- what is important is how well you can fight back. Your reaction speed completely took Elliot off-guard, he didn’t expect you to throw your iron flask directly at his head-- but then again, tonight was an unexpected night for you both.
The night seemed to get worse as you were close enough to throw punches, one of which landed straight in his jaw. This pissed him off. Why were you putting up a fight? You were the one that practically beckoned him into your home.
After the first punch, Elliot switched tactics. Clearly, playing defense wasn’t getting anywhere, so it was time to shift into offense.
You attempted to swing a second time but Elliot caught both of your wrists, his teeth clenching and a look of fury blazing in his eyes. In any other situation, that silent rage would’ve been terrifying. The worst part was that when you stared into his hateful eyes, you saw nothing but your own reflection. 
But your own curiosity was your downfall. In the single moment where you took a glance into his eyes, Elliot was able to catch you off-guard and pushed you onto the floor so he was straddling you. Luckily, your self-defense lessons finally kicked in and you remembered a maneuver that flipped the table on Elliot so now you were straddling his hips and pinning his arms down. 
The grunting and squirming from both of you came to a freeze when you felt a certain prick in your groin. A hush fell in the dark apartment, but even in the darkness you could feel the heat radiating off Elliot. He was thankful that you couldn’t see the blush creeping up his face. 
Such a sick, pathetic creature. To be turned on in a situation like this? But Elliot couldn’t help it. His subconscious fantasies were finally coming to life and he was too scared to wake up. He didn’t want this to end.
The small voice of reason in your head was drowned out by the instincts that pulsed through your blood. All it took was a single roll of your hips on his groin, and you earned a soft whimper in response. 
The moonlight from the open window spilled into the room, illuminating the scene-- Elliot’s fists unballed themselves so they rested on the hardwood floor, palms open. His mouth opened ever-so-slightly, and his cheeks a bright red as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes swirling with a pool of devotion and need. All previous traces of anger gone as he lay beneath you, squirming for more. 
“Please,” he breathed, his voice coming out in a whiny tone, “do that again.”  
With a single look at his needy state, you couldn’t help but do as he wanted. After another roll of your hips, you could feel a wet spot form underneath Elliot’s pants. 
“So soon?” You mockingly asked, looking at him with a pitiful look, “we’ve only just begun.”
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account more than likes :)
as always, check out my pinned post for request rules and i'll see y'all in the next post ;)
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fic-adict · 2 years
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Draco x Reader
It's Us Against The World
I've had this hp fiction idea in my head for ages now and couldn't find anything like it so I decided to write my own :D (yes I am that desperate)
Also read on Ao3:
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This starts off at the opening dinner scene of Deathly Hallows Pt1 where the muggle sympathizer is killed and Draco fights to hold it together.
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Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
It was the gentle chant she replayed in her head that kept her sane, the rhythmic clatter of the utensils reprising actions over and over dimmed the roaring chaos of her brain. It stiffened her mind to a numbing rhythm, allowing her to remain woefully ignorant to the thunderous bolt of green that zipped past her hands to strike the researcher who now lay limp on the dining table, whose stiff fingers now strayed threateningly close to her plate.
It was another gathering of death eaters and their relatives, another session of Voldemort's' inspirational advocations of cleansing the earth of all muggle-born concluding with yet another corpse gracing their table. This time it was a witch, their own kin, who sprawled lifeless below them. She had believed that muggles and witches could breed and publicly advocated her beliefs, even publishing research to prove that no "contamination of pure blood" had any correlation with decreased wizarding ability. It was what some more conservative speakers of the magistrate argued to be a blasphemous outroar, condemning the inflaming public support that had now inevitably ended more than her career.
And now all y/n could do was stare down at her dish and beg her mind to maintain her nonchalant display as horrors unfolded before her, it took all remaining shreds of sanity and self-control to slice yet another piece of tasteless beef and chew it to groundless mush, to disregard the singed, blooded curls that now danced around her plate.
Ignoring the savage choirs of gratitude to the Dark Lord from her parents and their fellow death eaters chipped at her ability to anchor the stale meal to her stomach, yet her current focus was now derived from urging her body not to hurl but instead forcing her eyes to remain downcast as they had been for the entirety of the event. She battled to restrain the almost uncontrollable will to cast a subtle upwards glance at the boy sitting opposite her knowing exactly what she would be faced with.
His face would have a deathly pale glow, lips pursed to a trembling pale line, eyes welled with unshed tears resulting in bright puffy red lids, arms quaking with efforts of wheezing breaths through the suffocating guilt, fists clenched atop the table, meal untouched, nails digging into the skin of his palms till they broke away crimson.
She'd have to remember to clean them later.
He didn't understand how she did it. He didn't understand how she could act so steadfast and unbothered by the nightmare unravelling itself before them. He couldn't understand her unwavering motions as she picked up yet another piece of meat and placed it to her lips while the corpse of yet another human, one that had been desperate and pleading not seconds ago, dropped with a sickening lifeless thud before them. He didn't understand the unbothered demeanor that surrounded her like a plate of armor, the one that deflected the sickening screams and pleas of all victims that would torture his mind for weeks but prevented her from a single second of flinching unease. He didn't understand how she could seem so detached from all the torment she witnessed but have all that armor fracture and rupture the moment she found seclusion.
Only he knew too well that in the darkest depths of isolation and with complete assurance that nobody else would witness the havoc did she shred apart every raw comprehensible emotion and allow herself an instant where she could break down every feasible sentiment and be oh-so vulnerable. Only in those feeble seconds could they hold each other dream beyond hope that one day this would all be over, that this entrapment is merely a temporary sentence. It was the silent hysterical weeping and quivering and trembling that they allowed themselves to display only to one another that kept them sane just a little while longer. Those were the thoughts racing through his head as fought against the sob racking its way up his throat.
Yet even with so much explanation, Draco still couldn't understand how she manage to hold on to her composure.
It was then that their eyes met. Only for an instantaneous second did she break the rhythm of her motions, fork hovering just below her lips for a single fraction longer. And yet it was all the communication they needed, only a momentary glance at her pale, glassy eyes and he understood the meaning. It was the only indication of a chipping armor, a waxy layer of tears clouding her vision and a silent appeal to urge him to start his meal and avoid any deriving suspicion.
And so that's what he did. With trembling motions, he unclenched his palms which came away crimson, and mirrored her every action to perfection.
Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
Fork. Plate. Mouth. Chew.
And silently he understood. 
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angelofrainfrogs · 10 months
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Spend the Night: Epilogue
~Coauthored by @zeitghest~
Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach
Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…
Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.
With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 
Rating: T
Read on Ao3
Simon says I found myself I cleaned the dust off of the shelf What's your choice? In the end I'll always be your friend
Well done, superstar! Shine a light, we're fighting the dark Well done, superstar! It's my grand design I'll never ever leave you behind
~Superstar by CG5~
Gregory had his fists balled in anticipation by his chest. Once Freddy moved his arms outward, Gregory belted out an excited shout before jumping into the arms of his hero.
“It worked! You look just like a person!” His face buried into Freddy's stomach, the softness of his sweater making Gregory even more tired than before. He felt as though he could pass out right then and there in a cloud of gentle comfort.
For Charlie, seeing a soul bound to a new body not of her own doing had been a little shocking. It would take some getting used to for sure, but really all that mattered was that Gregory didn't mind the change. To the boy, it was still his Freddy—this time with a noticeable heartbeat and a warm tone to his voice instead of a metallic echo.
“Look at us!” Charlie said with an enthusiastic laugh. “A bunch of totally normal people!”
Truly, it was a second chance at living for all of them.
Freddy held his son close and chuckled at his excitement, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed in his chest. Now that he had the facial features to do so, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of Gregory's messy hair, then looked to Charlie and Michael. He didn't think he'd be able to stop smiling for quite a while.
“Seems like you're happy in there, Fredbear,” Michael said, grinning back at him. It was endearing how Gregory clung, the boy's adoration for his father almost more obvious now that they looked just like anyone you'd pass on the street.
Well, except for the striking eyes.
Like father, like son, Michael thought, not feeling the need to point this feature out. Surely Freddy would see the faint electric glow as soon as he looked in a mirror.
“It will take some getting used to, but it is far from unpleasant,” Freddy confirmed, now rubbing soothing circles onto Gregory's back. The boy's grip had lessened, and when Freddy glanced down he swore the kid was actually starting to fall asleep.
Gently, he held him out by the shoulders so he could meet Gregory's utterly exhausted gaze. Automatically he tried to perform a health scan, but to Freddy's surprise no glowing light came forth from his eyes. Apparently that was just one of the many features specific to his Glamrock body.
“Gregory, you seem exhausted...,” he said softly. “Here, please get up for a moment so I can stand and then I will carry you, alright?”
“Huh?” Gregory was a little out of it, slow to respond when Freddy’s simulated heartbeat had him falling asleep right there. Getting the picture he rose up to his feet and held out a hand to his dad.
“Poor little man’s so tired he can’t even speak,” Charlie remarked, finding it simultaneously cute and heart-wrenching.
He must’ve been waiting until they got everything done to finally rest. Gregory’s mission for the weekend was complete, and now it was time to find a place for them to bunk out before starting the next leg of their journey into the future.
Freddy wasted no time hoisting the boy up, allowing Gregory's head to rest on his shoulder as he wrapped one arm securely around his back while the other supported him underneath. To Freddy's relief, the strength and effort used to lift him felt no different than when he'd done so in his old body. Perhaps the transition would be easier than he initially thought.
“Okay, time to get this kid a real bed,” Michael remarked, pulling Charlie to her feet as he got up as well. He patted his pocket to make sure Sammy's wallet was still there, then glanced side-long at Charlie. “Maybe you should see if Sam's still in Freddy's room? And if so, you can explain why a random man is about to come out of the storage area carrying Gregory... Also we should let him know that Glamrock Freddy's shell is back here now.”
It might’ve taken some time, but Gregory had fallen asleep against the animatronic’s formerly tough but smooth metal exterior before. However, now that Freddy resembled a soft human Gregory passed out immediately once tucked into his embrace.
Charlie reached upwards, fluffing Gregory’s hair without resistance for once. “Yeah—I’ll go and explain it. Maybe you guys should take the back way out of Rockstar row? I’m afraid of Sammy passing out again.”
She could see how stressed her brother had become over the years. He had the same round face as their father, though it had a gauntness Henry didn’t possess. Sam had also definitely grown into a more nervous demeanor over the years. Her carefree brother was now a suit, and a stressed-out one at that. Charlie wasn’t going to add on more than necessary unless she wanted to put Sammy in an early grave like the rest of his family.
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best…” Michael spared a mildly concerned glance towards the closed door leading to Freddy’s room. “We’ll swing by the gift shop and meet you at the front doors; we can get at least one new outfit before we’re out of here.” If they wanted anything other than Fazbear merch Michael knew they’d have to visit a store outside the Pizzaplex, but for now he was content to grab some more of the free stuff. He had a feeling the others didn’t mind, either.
“Please tell Samuel that I am sorry for leaving so suddenly, but my body is completely functional if he would like to use it for another Freddy model,” the original Freddy requested, trying not to think about the existential crisis this might cause down the line. He leaned his head ever-so-gently against Gregory’s, who was still sound asleep. “I would also be completely willing to tell the other animatronics about my, ah… state when they are online again, if that is the direction we chose to go; I feel as though the answers they receive from staff might leave them with more questions…”
“Charlie will let Sam know; come on, big guy.” With an understanding smile Michael patted Freddy’s arm, urging him to follow as he started to make his way through the twisting corridors of the back rooms.
Now that they had no threats to watch out for, their trip was smooth-sailing. Within minutes they emerged into the bright lights of the atrium and Freddy looked around curiously, trying to tell if anything was different now. Really, the only things so far that were altered from his original body were the lack of technological overlays on his vision—he could still pull some internal health indicators up if he tried, though these were completely different to the ones he was familiar with—and a slight shift in height, which he was already adjusting to.
Still carrying his sleeping son, Freddy followed Michael into the gift shop and perused the shelves for a new outfit Gregory might like. It seemed as though Sammy had given staff a day off after his staggering revelation; the Pizzaplex was startlingly empty, save for a few fleeting people that were rushing for the exits. Clearly, everyone needed a break.
Gregory was half awake, half asleep. Finally his exhaustion could be seen through the cheap façade he managed to keep up the entirety of the weekend. The boy had his eyes closed, spurring to consciousness every now and then as his father went through the clothing racks before dozing off again. He managed to open his eyes briefly as he watched Michael peruse the various outfit combinations. Managing the strength to speak up, Gregory pointed to another tank top. This one was a muted pink, and bore a smiling Freddy head on its chest.
“I want the Freddy one,” he murmured, hand dropping back down again to curl up closer to the former bear once again.
Outside the storefronts, Charlie was walking with her brother. The two were laughing together and she popped the CEO playfully in the arm, her knuckles brushing Sammy’s bicep as she laughed at his joke. Catching sight of the others emerging from the shop, Sam raised a hand. He wasn’t too eager to see them leave, but couldn’t just go back to work trying to clean up this mess without saying goodbye to his friends.
Soon enough, Mike had a large bag full of various clothing options slung over his left shoulder. They’d even picked out a new outfit for Freddy if he got tired of the sweater and blue jeans he currently wore. Michael didn’t change yet, though a crimson red beanie with a little classic Foxy decal had been pulled over his head to cover the dried, matted blood. He had a feeling their ragtag group might attract unwanted attention until they recovered from the shock of actually being outside, so Mike didn’t want his already-healed wound to summon more of it. As they stepped out into the lobby, they caught sight of Charlie and Sammy lingering nearby.
“Hey!” Michael called with a wave, walking over to them. “We’re all set if you are, Charlie. I was thinking of where we could go and I remembered there should be a hotel not too far from here—unless that’s gone now? I’m… wow, I’m actually not sure what year it is. Huh.”
While he and Charlie had quickly learned where they were, in all the chaos of the weekend they’d failed to learn when they currently existed. Michael looked to Sammy questioningly, although the man seemed fixated on the red-head carrying Evan’s look-alike.
“It is 2022,” Freddy responded, offering a smile which he soon turned on Samuel. Holding Gregory close, he gave a soft laugh. “I apologize if my appearance is jarring; I have not fully gotten used to it myself.”
Michael was now staring at the ground, trying to process the fact that he’d been literally dead to the world for six years. Freddy and Charlie weren’t the only ones who might have some whiplash when they left the Pizzaplex… although Michael knew he’d probably still be the most well-adjusted out of the group. 
“Lucky for us,” Sammy smirked to them, pulling out his phone to show them the google maps of the area. “This location's close to the hotel people stay at before heading towards Zion—it was finished around the same time we opened. You guys should stay there!”
It was close, and easy for Sam to stop by the hotel and check up on them if needed. Besides, it was a tourist hot spot so people likely wouldn't bat an eye at a family staying there for more than a week if necessary. Charlie reached over, unable to help herself as she controlled the digital map with her finger.
“Woah. Portable interactive maps,” she remarked, impressed by the smart device. Samuel laughed at his sister, gently pushing her hand away as he repositioned the map.
“Lottie, stop,” he chuckled, showing them the address and where to go. Afterwards he give them his business card, holding it out for the redhead to grab from his fingers. “Call me when you all get there... I know you'll make me a proud old programmer, Freddy.”
It felt odd to be so supportive of a robot. Then again, Sam never expected his creations to become self-aware. From the short chat he’d had with Charlie, Freddy’s AI was on an entirely new level. Caging something that could think so deeply felt wrong.
“Thank you, Samuel,” Freddy replied, slipping the card in his pants pocket before wrapping his arm around Gregory once again. His gaze was soft and appreciative as he looked at the man who'd given him a chance at life. “For everything.”
“Alright, come on, you sappy bear,” Michael piped up, gently pushing Freddy's back in an effort to get him moving towards the door. He then reached out to firmly grasp Sam's forearm, the touch proving yet again that he and Charlie were actually here right now.
“We'll be back tonight,” he reassured, his gaze flitting around the bright atrium. “Once we rest up and clear our heads, we're coming back to sort things out, okay? We’re not going to leave you again, Sam.”
He wanted to reassure Sammy that he wasn’t about to lose his old friends so soon after he'd gotten them back... Plus, if he made a promise to return, it made Michael all the more willing to actually follow through instead of running as far away from any Fazbear Franchise he could.
He'd never do that, though. He couldn't as a kid, nor as an adult. Hell, he couldn't even get away as a zombie, and surely wasn't about to break that trend as a ghost-robot.
Samuel turned, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder. Maybe he was double-checking he could still reach out and touch the guy.
“We'll have a lot to discuss then—until next time, buddy.” Sam pulled him in, not shy about hugging his friend. He thought after all these years he'd become a little jaded with his loneliness. Apparently not. With memories flooding back, he never realized how badly he missed all of them until there was nothing left...
“Keep her safe when I'm not there, Mike,” Sam whispered quietly. Should his sister hear that he was begging Mike to look after her, Charlie would likely scoff and roll her eyes. Sammy felt as though his heart would just give out if something happened to her again after all this. Pulling back to see Michael’s face, Sammy waited, hoping to get an honest promise out of the old prankster.
“Not a hair will be out of place when you see us again—I promise.” Mike pressed a hand to his chest, a playful smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth, but the sincere light in his eyes told Sammy that he meant every word. Michael then stepped up to Charlie and hooked an arm though hers, leading her towards the doors where Freddy was already waiting for them.
“See you later, Sam!” he called over his shoulder, flashing his old friend one last grin. Patting his jeans pocket once more, Mike confirmed Sammy's hefty wallet was still there as he pulled Charlie along. He then let out a tiny snicker, glancing side-long at her. “It didn't occur to me that you've never experienced the wonders of Google... Or smartphones.” 
So close to freedom, for so many years. While Charlie could’ve left at any time, she’d always felt trapped in the afterlife—never able to rest, always waiting for new victims to fall from William’s cruel blade of madness.
Now, her and her friends were finally free. Not only physically, but mentally as well. The guilt and rage she'd been exposed to began to melt away as she rested her head against Michael's shoulder.
“What makes the phones so smart anyway? And Google? That sounds gross.” She laughed, only imagining what that could be. Forty years without pop culture had put her in the dark about many things. Certainly Gregory would’ve gladly caught her up were he not resembling a melted pile of ice cream in Freddy's arms.
The automatic doors opened for them to reveal the parking lot, and further out the road and bright morning sun nearly blinded Charlie at first. But seeing the real world for the first time in a long while was a spectacular pleasure Charlie had missed so dearly.
Michael simply laughed at his dearest friend's comments, leading her out into the daylight. While he hadn't been trapped inside nearly as long as her and the others, as he stepped into the sun he realized he'd missed the outside world far more than he ever imagined he could. Once Mike and Charlie's dirty shoes were officially on the sidewalk, he turned back to see Freddy hesitating just inside the glass doors. Michael tapped Charlie's arm, pulling her attention to their formerly-animatronic friend as he geared up for the last few steps that would change his life forever.
Before he could walk through the doors, Freddy spared one final, lingering glance around the lobby of the only place he'd known for his whole existence. Even though he could still come back anytime he pleased, he'd no longer be able to call this place “home.” Although as his eyes fell upon Michael and Charlie now backlit by the rising sun, then to the sleeping boy in his arms, Freddy realized he was just fine with that.
Freddy took a deep, simulated breath, then stepped into the world he'd only been able to encounter through stories and pictures in his databanks. As the sun hit his skin, he was surprised to feel how toasty it was—not to mention how bright. He blinked rapidly, having to look at the dark asphalt for a moment while his eyes adjusted. Gregory remained in his arms this entire time, so calm and relaxed, and suddenly Freddy was totally overwhelmed.
He wasn't sure what prompted it. Maybe it was the sheer magnitude of all they'd accomplished, or the consciousness he was still getting used to. Maybe it was just a quirk of this new body that he'd have to ask Henry about later. But to Freddy's surprise a few warm, wet tears suddenly welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks before he could stop them.
Charlie wouldn't call attention to it—she wondered even if Freddy knew he was crying. Instead, she’d cheer him on.
“We did it,” she reminded with a smile. “We got out safe with Gregory!”
It was a bit alarming to see Freddy with those raw emotions, when before he couldn't cry even if he needed to. It humanized him further, and suddenly Charlie remembered she wasn't talking to a personified bear anymore. Freddy was a whole person with emotions comparable to their own.
From the sounds of the birds chirping, to the occasional car passing down the road; the ants on the sidewalk, to a lone cloud that framed the blue sky—the summer air was buzzing with the energy of life passing them by. Charlie couldn't help but feel giddy. Today was the first day of the rest of their lives, and she couldn't hide the happiness it brought her.
“It’ll be alright,” Charlie added softly, echoing the words Freddy used in their first meeting as she urged him forth.
“Yes; it will be,” Freddy agreed without hesitation, smiling even as he lifted an arm to wipe the tear streaks away on his sleeve. Gregory shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent, which caused Freddy to chuckle softly. 
“You okay, Fredbear?” Mike felt the need to ask, one eyebrow raised as the bear joined him and Charlie in the parking lot. Freddy simply nodded and grinned even wider.
“Yes—very much so. Come on; let us go to this hotel!” Freddy's tone was eager and full of pure, unadulterated joy, not unlike that of the kids he'd formerly entertained. He still had an inch or so of height on Michael, and he looked over the man's head as he tried to take in as much of the area as he could.
Together they walked, heading towards a future that was unclear and uncertain—but undeniably bright.
***
Previous Chapter ~~ NEXT INSTALLMENT: Going Back, Ch. 1
Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!
Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!
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ambroselaveau90 · 1 year
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⛥The Queen And Kings Of Narnia⛥
Caleb Mclaughlin as Matthias Adesanya
•The Witch Queen
•Tribrid(Hexenbeist-Demigod)
•Element:Spirit
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Micheal Cimino as Antonio Salazar
•The King Of Blood
•Vampire(Draugr,Rebekah's Sireline)
•Enhanced-Upgraded Original Vampire(Draugr,Unlinked From Sireline)
•Element:Water
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Mitchell Hoog as Gabriel Mortensen
•The King Of Wolves
•Werewolf(Lycan)
•Element:Earth
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Praneet Akilla as Khalid Thompson/The Antichrist
•Cambion(Human/Demon)
•Element:Fire
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The Pentads are the new dynasty of the Land Of Narnia following the Age Of Conquest,which started when King Tirian,decided to repeat his ancestor's crimes by colonizing Narnia as they did.For over 2000 years,Tirian's descendants ruled with a iron fist and the Narnians were ousted as their ancestors were during the Dark & Telmarine Ages.
Their Dynasty began with Matthias Adesanya aka the Witch Queen in NY 4,575 and went on until the ending of Narnia centuries later.In all,it spanned bloody but peaceful eras and was the third longest dynasty of Narnia.Their reign was widely accepted as the Dark Golden Age Of Narnia.
The Pentads were a group of five supernatural creatures from the Earth,all of whom were of varied ages(both physically & spiritually)when they entered the Wood Between the Worlds and went to the Narnian Portal for the first time in the Narnian Year 4,575 during the second Telmarine Age.Their violence proved influential to the enslaved Narnians and their arrival coincided with Jadis's rebirth & Aslan's return,so that both events rose the enslaved Narnian's crushed spirits.
Though merely young adults,the Pentads helped motivate the Narnian morale and thus led the Narnians into an uprising against the Telmarine Kingdom & Aslan himself in the Narnian Revolution.
After the glorious victory,the Pentads were all coronated as ruler,establishing the second oligarchy.Matthias Adesanya,was deemed the Queen Of Narnia by Jadis,before she decided to become their ambassador to the many other kingdoms.
After the thirty-year of the Dark Golden Age,the five had grown into kind but wicked rulers,as their own children took over.With heavy hearts,they decided to leave Narina,since they knew their own children would be good rulers as their time had passed and they raised them with kind but wicked hearts.
They found the Wood Between The Worlds and returned again to Earth,where they found themselves physically as they were when they entered the Wood.This event had left Narina to evolve into a Age of Enlightment.
The Pentad is the name of the group given to the supernaturals that decided to fight the forces of darkness that plague their world and the Multi-Plane.
Each of them are descended from lineages that would be considered"unique"even among the supernatural communities(E.X.Gabriel comes from the Marrows,who was known for being descendants of Fenrir).
The original four came together once Matthias realized that maybe if they worked together & used the resources at their disposal,they could defeat their common enemy:The Mikaelson Family.
After intense planning,the group was able to unravel the family,allowing them to kill the most important players and scattering the rest to live in peace.
After defeating the Mikaelsons and freeing New Orleans from their tyranny,they decided to stay together,knowing that many people would be after them.But the group was completed when Khalid came into their lives,when he wanted to escape his status of the Antichrist & the grasp of his father,Lucifer.
But after years of defending the Multi-Plane & bringing a new age,they settled down with their loved ones & after taking the time to make sure they were in a good place,they decided to have children.
With Matthias's magick,they were able to have biological children of their own,to continue their bloodlines.But they didn't stop there,they also adopted children,whether they were human or supernatural,to give them a home and family.
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hwan-g · 2 years
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USE ME.
pair. switch! hyunjin x fem! reader. | genre. basically pwp, angst. | warnings. minors dni, edging, unprotected sex, masturbation, fingering, light bdsm play, possessiveness, slight manipulation. | word count. 4.3k
synopsis. hyunjin would make you stay—he’d give anything.
tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent my enablers &lt;3
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You stared at him—the empty vessel of your man.
Chest panting, shirt unbuttoned, angry tears sliding down his hollow cheeks. He was trembling with rage, long hair framing his beautiful, angular face.
You saw all this, it tugged at your heart, and yet it was all the more reason for you to leave. Because you had to—leave. You had to escape this, whatever it was, before it consumed you entirely. Before it destroyed both of you.
Hyunjin did not think so; Hyunjin was a stubborn man, that fought for you foolishly, and would only end up hurting himself irrevocably in the process. You tried to make him see this—what you two had, your little agreement—it wasn’t forever.
It was temporary. It was until, it was soon. It’d been hiding in hotel rooms past midnight, stolen kisses backstage, signing NDA contracts, and deleting text messages as soon as they’d delivered.
It wasn’t much of anything—it was sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Until it wasn’t; until the meaning had changed—until Hyunjin’s feelings deepened, and decided to fight for you, against everything, against everyone. You never asked for this; as much as it was eating at you, as many tears as you’d shed… it was futile.
That’s what you told him, exactly two hours ago. He fought you teeth and nails for it; for you to reconsider, to stay.
And then he rendered himself silent. He stayed in that place of his, by the bedroom door, hung head, listening to your hurtful words, recovering from his own outburst.
You’d never seen him like that, so still, so compliant—submissive. You moved back from the shock of it.
He thought his abidance would fix this. If he just accepted what you had to tell him, without agreeing to it, it would be like nothing was ever said. Stubborn—hotheaded. A fool that couldn’t stop breaking your heart.
“Hyunjin.” You reached out for him, brows scrunched up, sadness laced on your tongue.
He brought his hands out in front of him. The rest of him didn’t move in inch, pitch black hair now completely obscuring his face from your eyes.
Tie me, is what they told you. Use me.
You swallowed. This is what he did, every time. Solved everything through sex. Unraveled himself in front of you, leaving you no choice, no room. He stole your breath always, and this was just another one of those times.
Except, it wasn’t. Because if there was one thing you’ve never seen him do—give away control. Succumbing. It’s always been you; he’s always made sure you knew that. You’d give and he’d take—never the other way around.
This action of his, the weight it carried; it knocked everything down inside you, rearranged your heart. You reached to pull the ribbon from your hair, letting it fall around you.
And then you walked, stood in front of him. His breathing had returned back to normal, but his skin was still glistening with sweat. His musky smell enveloped you like a punch in the stomach. You caressed his pretty wrists—pale, elegant, blue veins popping underneath. Your index traced them, your hands coming to rest over his closed fists.
Then you tied your black ribbon around them. At first you were gentle with the piece of fabric, not meaning to hurt him—until he grunted, pushing you over. He wanted it to hurt—he truly believed he deserved to be treated like this.
Because he hadn’t been enough. Because you’d needed more, and he hadn’t provided.
“Hyunjin…” His name left your lips again, this time softer, sadder.
His face was calm, serene almost. He blinked, gaze on the floor. Unresponsive, yet entirely alert.
You tightened—he blinked again. You had never second guessed anything this much in your life. These were untested waters, strange territory.
Your palm came to rest on his chest, pushing him backwards, inside the bedroom. He complied, boots back-stepping. The quiet suffocated you, made you paranoid.
You weren’t cut out for this—your leaving wasn’t meant to punish him. If anything, it was meant to do the opposite. You just wanted to rid him of this heaviness of having to carry you around, of constantly having to look over his shoulder.
You cared too much about him, and that was exactly the problem. If both of you felt the same—then it was real. Then it was unattainable.
His bedroom lights were dim, his curtains blacked out. Bed unmade, brushes haphazardly abandoned on his desk, oil paints squeezed out and forgotten.
This room had been used, it was familiar. Panic bubbled in your throat, threatening—
“I can’t do this,” you choked out, backing away from him.
His head shot up, those dark eyes piercing you once, and then, as if remembering, pointing at the floor again. His mouth moved, as if to open, to speak, but he bit down on his lips, taking a deep breath instead.
Your hand was on the handle already, pressing down, opening.
“I’ll give anything,” his voice sounded, deep and resonant, booming through you. “Please.”
When you look behind—he’s on his knees, surrendering to you. Completely. Thighs spread out, black on black, light hair feigning innocence, wrists tied in front of him—helpless, defenseless.
“What are you planning to do, sweetheart?” You barely heard him, his voice so incredibly soft. “You have me on my knees.”
His eyes still won’t dare meet yours—this is what breaks you.
“You really want this, don’t you?” You ask, a whisper; a rhetorical question that demands for no answer.
The answer has fallen on your feet, astute, pleading—a fallen angel asking you to save him.
How could you ever refuse?
So you return to him, half of you wanting to kneel next to him, untie his hands, shake him crying, yelling—
‘You’re enough, you’re fucking plenty. It’s not you, it’s this. It’s not you, it’s your lifestyle—’
But you don’t. Because the other half of you wants to experience this—him, willing, ready to give away his entire self—to you. You are the undeserving one. But Hyunjin doesn’t think so—Hyunjin handed over his mouth, yielded his limps. For you. To keep this.
“Look at me,” you whispered, praying for some connection, some sign he was still there, doing this with you.
Without his help, you don’t think it would be possible. He grants your wish, lifts his eyes. The sin—the garden of Eve, the snake, and forbidden fruit—it all pales in comparison to Hwang Hyunjin looking up into your eyes, entirely at your mercy.
Which God gave you this man? How do you ruin him?
Your fingers bury themselves in his soft hair, pushing back and tagging at the ends, before moving down across his cheek, cupping his jaw, thumb running over his full lips—they part, a sharp intake, and then the loss of contact when you take your touch away. He follows it, follows you, leaning forward, but you refuse him, your shyness being replaced with want.
You’ve never played like this with anyone before, much less Hyunjin. It was fun in an intoxicating way—but even then, you knew this would have a limit. Too much power could turn against you.
“Reach under my dress,” you ordered him, voice soft, but stern. “See how wet this makes me.”
He needn’t be told twice. His restrained wrists travelled up your thighs, getting lost underneath the cotton of your midi dress, the touch tickling, starting fires up your legs, a ghost of a breath, those angel eyes never leaving your face, searching for your every reaction, timid, but you could pick out the giddiness in his irises.
It was a glint—a spark he’d get every time he got his hands on you. Your heart swelled.
Finally, his fingers reached their destination, your wetness smearing on them. He growled, and the air shifted. You faltered, but didn’t give in. Not yet—it was too soon.
His thumb rubbed faint circles on your clit, over your panties. You let him, the friction feeling just right. You wanted to grind down on them, let him have his way with you, but you pulled away before he could do anymore damage.
He groaned, hands falling flaccid in front of him once again. It was clear, he was beginning to get frustrated. You reveled in it, and you pushed yet still.
Your hips swayed to music in your head, fingers lifting the fabric of your dress up, hiking it over your knees, thighs, teasing him with a glimpse of your lacy underwear. He was starving, watching you like a hawk, hanging over your every move.
Just from his hungry gaze, your cunt kept getting progressively wetter. He adjusted his position on the floor, thighs manspreading, and his hands rose—
The fingers coated in your juices entered his mouth. You could see the flicks of his tongue against the skin, sucking the wetness off. Your stomach erupted in butterflies.
He looked like the Devil, then. But the Devil was nothing more than a forsaken angel, making permanent residency in the flames. The similarity was uncanny.
“I never said you could do that,” you removed the fingers from his mouth, kneeling in front of him. “But you’re impatient, aren’t you? You’ve never had to wait for a thing in your life.”
He watched as his thumb disappeared in your mouth, eyes locking, unfaltering. You gave it a kitten lick, before you kissed the tip of it, and let it go. Before he could protest, your palm cupped him over his pants.
Hyunjin hissed at the contact, visibly hard. You took your time unzipping, gliding your other hand over his thigh. He looked delectable, shirt exposing his pretty collarbones, his long neck.
His eyes fell closed, as your hand wrapped around his cock. Rock hard, pre cum leaking—beautiful. You gave it a tiny squeeze, before leaning over it, spitting on the tip.
“Fuck,” he whispered low, sensual, head falling back.
“Be quiet for me, will you, pretty boy? If you do that for me, I might let you cum.”
Your palm smeared your spit all around, pumping his cock a couple times. He bucked his hips towards you, breathless. Steadying yourself, you took him in your mouth, bottoming out.
His tied fists came to rest on the back of your head, the ribbon falling on the nape of your neck. A trail of curse words escaped him, and you gave him that one.
Hearing Hyunjin swear was a religious affair.
You bopped your head along his length, gagging at the base, before twirling your tongue back up, smacking your lips at the tip, and repeating the process, your hand assisting you.
Hyunjin was losing his fucking mind, not being able to touch you, grab you by the hair, push you down on his cock, hear you choke on it. Instead, he could only grind against your mouth, pitiful, furious with himself.
Grazing his balls with your teeth, he hissed, close. Before he could cum, you gave him one last swipe with your palm, and shifted off from him, wiping your lips, getting on your feet, your own wetness running down your thighs.
“Or maybe not,” you smirked down at him.
His cock was throbbing, fully erect and bright red. Hyunjin gave you a pained look, a whimper leaving him, but it all quickly transformed into anger. He was angry with you for edging him, angry that his hands were still tied, angry it had come to this.
Like he hadn’t brought this on himself. Like he hadn’t asked you to torture him, succumbing to you.
He said nothing. You smiled innocently at him, and removed your drenched panties, watching him all the while. He was worked up, couldn’t sit still, jaw locked, brows furrowed in a scowl.
“What can I do for you?” You asked, wanting to put him out of his misery already.
He had been good for you, after all. But after having this much hold over him, you didn’t want to quit. You want to tease him endlessly, make him beg—
“Let me eat you,” he rasped, pulling against his restraint. Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead. “Come here.”
You did. One leg on top of the bed, your dress riding up your thighs, you neared his face—his tongue reached out and licked between your folds, one swift motion, before his lips fiercely sucked on your clit. You involuntarily rubbed against him, hips grinding, the friction heavenly, driving you crazy—
Like a thirsty man, he slurped on your juices, chin coated in your wetness, eyes shut, taking you in, focusing on the way your body responded, the way he made you feel, thinking of all the ways he’d fuck you the moment you pulled this ribbon from his wrists.
The truth was, he could’ve freed himself long ago, chosen to violate his promise to you, but he didn’t. Because he saw how much this meant to you, saw the utter joy on your face as he kneeled there, awaiting instructions, loved the way you teased and tested his limits—
His cock was begging for attention, but eating your cunt like this—he marveled at your beauty. Marveled at how brave you were, doing this for the both of you. His sensitive girl, taking the reigns, owning him completely.
He just wanted to make you see.
Having him under you like this, head buried in you, tongue writing odes in your pussy—it was so hard for you to not cum just with the thought of him being at your mercy like that. You build your rhythm together, working towards your release.
He got it out of you by moaning into your clit, the vibration of it sending you over the edge. You spasmed over him, your hands holding onto his head, and he took it all, patiently, reveling, letting you come undone.
“Untie me,” he grunted, pulling away, licking his lips. “Untie me.”
In your haze, your knees gave way, collapsing on him. He caught you, and smashed his lips on yours. Your eyes widened and fluttered shut, allowing him bring you back down to Earth. The kiss tasted like you, soft and sweet, and something else, something darker, something entirely his.
Suddenly it deepened, and you had to hold onto his shoulders for support. His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sucking on yours. Your hand found his cock again, palming it.
“Fucking untie me, (Y/N). So help me God.”
“Say please,” you urge him.
He pushed his forehead against yours, applying pressure, inhaling sharply through his nose. His eyes pierced yours—pure frustration swimming in them.
“Please,” he husked, begrudgingly.
So you did. It seemed almost a mocking—for him to keep this on for as long as he did, but you were certain—he was trying to show you, by letting go. How much he wants you. What it’d be like from then on, if you stayed.
The second you did, he lifted you up, arms under your ass, and threw you on the bed. Roughly—you knew, there’d be nothing soft about this now.
Onyx hair falling over his eyes, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, taking it off`. Lean muscle stared back at you, his silver necklace rocking against his sternum. He stared at you like prey—you had nowhere to run to, no way to escape.
You think you didn’t want to. Ever.
Arms reached out and pulled you from your calves, hooking underneath your thighs on the edge of the bed. He kneeled. Then he dived right back in your cunt, sucking on your clit. You couldn’t move, his grip on you was so incredibly firm. The pressure felt amazing, but overwhelming after your orgasm. He didn’t seem to care at all.
“You’re going to fucking come on my tongue. Again,” he mumbled against you, and his voice shot right through you.
One of his arms lifted your leg over his shoulder, fingers then getting lost in your slit, lapping your juices, before entering you. His digits fucked into you feverishly, nothing but your release on his mind.
“Fuck, you’re soaking, angel. Did I do this?”
“Hyunjin,” you breathed sharply, your fist coming into contact with the mattress.
He lifted you from the bed, now completely at his mercy, as he held you there, against his sinful mouth, fucking you with his tongue, fingers curling inside you.
You were so close, so incredibly close, and his tongue wouldn’t stop doing that thing, his digits relentlessly hitting that one spot that made you see stars, again and again, moving them just right—oh, but then he licked a straight line down your folds, and his thumb pressed on your clit, and you were fucking gone.
Your body wouldn’t stop shaking, legs wrapped around his shoulders. He waited the wave out, holding you in place, face nuzzled into your cunt like he belonged there, like there was no other way he’d rather be.
“You perfect little fucking thing—I can’t get enough of your sweet cunt. One more, give me one more.”
“Please, please, Hyun,” you tugged on his forearm, wanting him elsewhere.
Buried deep inside of you, fucking you into the mattress. You were so wet, so horny, and you couldn’t get the way his cock looked out of your mind.
Proud, blushing, veins popping, head glistening with spit. You fucking craved it.
“Please what, my sweet girl?” He climbed on top of you, wiping your tears away, pushing your hair back, staring down at you lovingly, soothing your frown lines.
You moaned, rubbing your thighs together. He growled, then, his hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing slightly, a ghost of a threat.
“Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Take me,” you whispered. “I need you inside.”
He smiled at you, a devilish angel, his lips leaving kisses down your neck, before he bunched your dress up to your stomach, continuing down the trail, stopping at the top of your pussy. His long arm never left the crevice of your throat.
Then he moved again, fisting his dick, pumping the length a few times, watching you; a mess, just for him. Open, spent—all for him, because of him.
Who had the upper hand, then, he wondered. Who gave first for you to lay on his bed, begging for his cock to fill you up?
Had it not been him? You fell so prettily into his trap. His naive girl. His lips curved again, a cheshire smile, his cock rubbing against your slick, teasing the slit.
You moaned, fingers holding onto his bicep.
“Look at me when I enter you,” he spoke, voice gruff. Your eyes opened, found his own.
He held your gaze as he propped himself on one arm, the other sliding his cock in you. You both groaned, you enveloping him in a hug, as he moved against you.
When Hyunjin fucked, he was like water. Morphing into whatever you needed him to be, but flowing so vastly, always liquid, always going back to what he knows, what he is. That is to say, he took you in slow strokes, easing, pacifying you, before he felt that familiar anger flare up again.
You think you can just fucking leave? Walk out on him?
His pounding picked up, turning animalistic. He pistoled into you, precise, quick motions, his hips knowing all the secrets to making you scream—he’s practiced this a million times, it feels, late nights of having you under him, over him, smothering his lungs, corrupting his mind. He wanted to do the same to you, make you feel how fucking terrifying it is to be consumed by a person this unfathomably. Maybe then the thought of leaving him behind would never occur to you, ever again.
Hyunjin felt very possessive over you. He thinks it must be because he’s so well attuned to your body, knows things no one else does—getting lost in you after a long day sounds like paradise to him, always. Because you take him so well, because he’s made sure to leave in impression. And no way out. You come to him, always. It’s always going to be this, no matter your temper tantrums, and insecurities.
He’ll whisper all of it away, strip you naked of everything, until it’s only the two of you standing, no matter what he has to do.
“What a fucking slut. Turn around,” he pulled out of you, landing a smack on your ass as you did as you were told.
Almost fucked out. Almost, but not quite. Hyunjin had plans for you, and they all involved you getting fucked stupid. He almost felt sorry for you, seeing you this disoriented. Almost. Not quite.
“Mine,” he growled. “Mine, mine, mine—”
Nails digging into your skin, he tore through you, one hand around your waist, taking taking taking taking—words made no sense anymore. You wanted him to split you open, take whatever he needed. You were sorry, you felt stupid for thinking he’d let you go easily. Power play was as easy as breathing to him, and he always had the upper hand. It mattered little if you were perishing in wild flames under his touch, mattered even less if your cunt was sore, begging for him to finish. Hyunjin was a selfish man, that absolutely had to put you in your place for even remotely considering to defy him.
His little act earlier had been just that. An act. He’d panicked, and gave you what you thought you wanted. But this—him taking you from behind, his cock marking your insides—this is what you truly deserved. To be fucked like a whore, because you had no will, had no right to take something from him.
“You love getting railed like this,” he panted in your ear, blowing on your sweaty neck. You shuddered. “Don’t you? You love having no choice.”
“Fucking cum,” you whined, feeling faint. He landed another slap on your ass. “Fuck, please, Hyunjin, please. I can’t anymore, I can’t—”
He pushed your head down, drilling into you harder, faster. You cried out, screamed, cried, begged—to no avail.
“Tell me—” he squeezed your waist, hips vicious. “Did you think about it?”
“Hyun…”
He aggressively pressed his palm against the side of your face. “Where are you gonna go? Who’s gonna fuck you like this?”
All you could think of was his cock. His cock brutally abusing your hole, his belligerent tone of voice, mocking you, like you expected, like you deserved. His eyes looking up at you, the way he’d dropped on his knees like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t mean anything, when in fact it had meant so fucking much—
You’re so incredibly mad at yourself. Because you’re weak. Because you love him too much, because all doors are closed and locked, keys taken by the current of him. Hyunjin—the fucking stream of him, unraveling everything in his wake.
“This is so wrong—”
“And yet it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? Come for me, won’t you? I know you’re dying to.”
You did. You collapsed, your surroundings turning black, your heart beating out of your chest. You could feel it in your throat. And yet it didn’t stop there.
Pulling away, he flipped you on your back again, crawling up to your face, and taking your mouth in an open mouth kiss. You had so much trouble breathing, he felt it. His hands rubbed circles in the middle of your chest, while his cock dove right into your pussy again.
“Lift your legs for me,” he ordered softly. A whimper escaped you, but you complied anyway.
His long fingers wrapped around your ankles, as his other hand pumped his cock against your entrance. He played with your cunt like that, smearing your cum around and on him, teasing your slit, slipping in and out, working himself.
“I want to touch you,” you breathed, watching him get off to your body.
“Where, baby?”
“My mouth. Cum in my mouth.”
He chuckled darkly. “My slutty girl.”
He released your legs, helping you up, staring at your disheveled self with a sense of satisfaction. Entirely his. To ruin, to play with, to love.
When you took him in your mouth, his arm reached over you to grab your ass. You moaned around him, bopping your head. His hand came to rest on your crown, pressing down, willing you to go deeper, to bottom up. You gagged, and he cursed, keeping you there, and pulling you back up by your hair. A string of spit followed your lips, and it was the hottest fucking thing Hyunjin had ever seen.
“So fucking hot. You’re such a good fucking slut for me, angel. Taking it all. My good girl—good fucking girl.”
He pushed you back down, all the way, and you choked on the girth of him, struggling to breathe. Then he started fucking your mouth. Hard. Until he violently spilled in your mouth, death grip on your head, keeping you in place, the aftermath of his orgasm out hitting him like a million bricks.
“Goddamn you if you ever try to leave me again.”
You took him out of your mouth just as he slumped on you, his weight a reminder of his words, both of you exhausted beyond belief. You could feel his deep breaths against your cheek, his musky smell invading all your senses.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated, kissing the nape of your neck.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” you mumbled against his stomach.
“I’m not apologizing for that, angel.”
His eyes, then—a promise, a finality.
1K notes · View notes
philliamwrites · 3 years
Text
Stay Where You Are And Then Leave {Masterlist}
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And as the Titans begin to march, no matter how scared you are, you will not look away. Because there is love in every ending.
❀❀❀
When Wall Maria fell you lost everything: your home, your family, your childhood friend and first love. Haunted by his memory, you promise yourself to enlist for military service so that one day you can kill the Armoured Titan.
But feelings change, children grow up and you've known early on that someday dreams end. Now finally in the army, all you want is to survive the next three years and join the Garrison Regiment to find some peace and quiet within the walls.
That is until Eren Jaeger steps into your life with his purpose that blasts through rooms like a wildfire, hot and bright and beautiful, but also the sort you want to watch from a distance.
He won't let you stay away though, and once you're completely entangled with him, he will never let you go.
Until he does.
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Pairing: Eren Jaeger x fem!Reader
Warnings: unreliable narrator, canon-typical violence, blood & injury, mild gore, slow burn, swearing, canon divergence, platonic jean & reader, angst, betrayal, enemies to friends (w/ benefits) to lovers, falling in love, falling out of love, fix-it while also making things worse, a.o.t.2 game elements,‼️18+, later: explicit sexual content!!‼️(i'm talking about all that good mean!dom eren stuff), warnings are listed at the beginning of every chapter
A/N: No words. Just Eren living rent free in my head. I'll try to upload every second Sunday.
Just DM me if you wanna be on the taglist!
○ ao3 link ○ SWYAATL playlist ○
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[01]: Unsre grüne Au
• wc: 5.8k • warnings: mature; blood, mild gore, angst, death of family & loved ones • summary: He takes your hand, so warm around yours, and places the ring in your open palm. It’s cool against your skin. “This is how you know I’ll always come back. Because when we grow up … we’ll get married.” You stare at him as though you’ve seen a god and that god shares Emil’s name.
[02]: Dear Emil
• wc: 7.3k • warnings: introduction to PTSD and trauma, mourning the death of family & loved ones • summary: But just like one loose thread could unravel everything, the past day has completely disintegrated the foundations of this future. Now that it crumbles between your bruised, shaking fingers, do you try to rebuilt it? Or do you forge something new from the broken pieces even though that means cutting your hands bloody on the remains?
[03]: army⇒G♂
• wc: 6.1k • warnings: canon-typical violence • summary: “And what about you?” the boy says, suddenly swirling to you and you jolt in your chair. He sees you; sees you with striking, sharp eyes the colour of an empty bottle struck by sunlight. The colour of a dark, deep lake after a storm. “Didn’t you say you want to kill the Armoured Titan? You’re from Shiganshina too! You know what I’m talking about, right?” Put into the spotlight—no, on the offering table for slaughter like that, you do what you do best: you run.
[04]: τέλος
• wc: 8.5k • warnings: slight bullying, swearing • summary: Eren is like a pair of hot tongs; no one is sure where to put him or how long he would take to cool off, but if they just dropped him he might light the world on fire. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” You’re giving up. Let someone else put on kid gloves and mark out a careful perimeter of how safe it is to approach him. Armin volunteers, turning the crank to set Eren down again and inspect his wound, but Eren pushes him away, and you wonder how often Armin has burnt himself trying to help him.
[05]: первый снег
• wc: 10.2k • warnings: bullying, swearing • summary: The impact of his hard, toned body against yours sends you both flying. He’s got you on your back, elbow pushing into your throat. You swing with one arm, but Eren anticipates it and easily catches your wrist. You stare daggers at him. “Now this,” he says quietly, shaking your fist gently, “this is what you do. You fight back. You can only win if you fight back.” “Get off me, Jaeger.” “And don’t tuck your thumb into your fist.”
06: 飛べ
• wc: 8.4k • warnings: none • summary: You stare at Eren, unable to respond. Furious, angry Eren is easy to handle—there is no logic or reason behind anger, only hot-whipping emotion that can be easily excused and needs no further thought. But this vulnerability is so much more complex and profound, you want to look away. There is a forlorn, lost look about him, but his eyes search your face as if he might find himself there. Like you could be the answer. It’s like Eren’s forgotten Reiser’s lecture last week: You don’t give answers people want to hear. “We aren’t fairy tale heroes and knights. We can’t change the world…” Eren, you want to say. “Jaeger.” You immediately see in the shadow that falls over his eyes that you’ve lost him. “You’re only one person. What difference can you make?”
07: Apple Seed
• wc: 12.2k • warnings: canon-typical violence, explicit depiction of a dead body (none of the main characters), vomiting (not reader) • summary: You wait for Eren to let you go. He doesn’t. He looks conflicted over something—desperate even, but whatever he wants to say appears to be stuck in his throat. His tongue darts out and swipes over his lower lip, leaving it pink and glossy. You blink, dazzled. What is it that you want from me? you want to ask, but the answer frightens you.
08: 金継ぎ
• wc: 6k • warnings: PTSD, grieving a loved one's death • summary: He’s right, and as you take a look around camp, at the people you’re spending the next two years with, you fall a little in love with every single one of them: Jean, Jeanie, who is so protective of his honesty and pride, but gets even more protective when it comes to you. Mina and Marco who have turned M into your favourite letter because they both know that a gentle fire by the chimney is better at keeping one warm than burning down the whole house. Reiner and Bertholdt, two sides of the same coin: where Reiner is fierce, Bertholdt is yielding and together they are invincible. Mikasa and Armin, one shield and spear, the other a brilliant mind that will one day change the world, and together they are Eren’s right and left hand, the first his blade in hand and the other the one concealed in his sleeve. And Eren, even Eren Jaeger, who always looks at you like he knows you are so much more than all your scars and fears.
09: The Melancholy Heron Stands
• wc: 7.6k • warnings: descriptions of a wound • summary: “Yeah, yeah, we’ve had this already. You’d rather do nothing and then complain about it later.” His words drop like a cleaver. Something sharp and painful rises up the back of your throat. You swallow it down, squaring your jaw to mask your hurt. You tell yourself not to cry, not at the hands of someone like Eren who ploughs through a field towards his destination without a care for the flowers he tramples on. Who listens in on private conversations meant for the night and darkness only, and butchers at your vulnerability with his violent idealism. You change your mind. Emil would have liked them all, except for Eren.
10: The Forest of Hands and Teeth (pt.1)
• wc: 8k • warnings: DARK CONTENT! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Minor character death, blood and gore, attempt at sexual assault (male —› female), implied child abuse, implied childhood sexual abuse • summary: It wasn’t common for you to doubt or question Emil. You trusted him with a ferocity that was nearly dangerous: if he’d said “Jump, I will catch you,” you’d jump and perform a pirouette mid-flight. Yet, this was different. This felt like a secret with sharp teeth and gnawing starvation for freedom. And it would wreak havoc. You didn’t know why, but you felt it. You felt it would destroy everything like the earth rumbling and splitting open, the very foundation of everything that you had known crumbling.
11: The Forest of Hands and Teeth (pt.2)
• wc: 8.2k • warnings: description of a decomposing body • summary: “If anything,” Eren says, and you can hear Armin’s quiet plea “Please stop talking, Eren,” because he knows Eren better than he himself, and if there is a chance to resolve the conflict without it blowing up, Armin will always throw himself in as canon fodder, “if anything, she got fucked up because you tried to run away. Because you tried to abandon us.” Jean goes still beside you like a statue. The glass shard nearly slips from your cold, clammy fingers and you bite your lip, tasting dried blood on your lips. “At some point,” Eren continues, “you’ll have to stop making excuses and stop running.”
12: Raised by Wolves and Voices
• wc: 8.1k • warnings: none • summary: “Wouldn’t that be something.” Jean sniffs, his breath coming out in white plums. “Erasing events from the past, making stuff never have happened. You’d have to be, like, God or something to do that.” “I don’t know. I get you’d want the unpleasant stuff gone, but it’s what makes you the person you are today, right? Even all the bad stuff, I don’t think I’d want that just taken away from me.” Especially without you knowing.
13: The Horror and the Wild
• wc: 9.6k • warnings: defence against an animal (no worries, the animal doesn’t get hurt too bad, definitely doesn’t die), injury, animal attack, self-suturing • summary: You scramble for your knife, digging through the snow until your fingers grasp the hilt. Pulling yourself up to your knees has never been this difficult, but thanks to the rigorous training Shadis has put you under after all those years, you stand on shaking knees, determined that you’ll see this through to the end. You’ll make your place in this world. You’ll fight for it, no matter who the opponent is. You’ll burn so bright you’ll blind them all—you’ll fight for yourself, and if that little, crying girl from five years ago screams for help, you’ll take her small hand and never let go, and you whisper to her “You are no longer a helpless child, you are the horror and the wild, and all the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold.”
14: The Happy Years (Upload: TBA)
• wc: ??? • warnings: none so far • summary: TBA
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○ Masterlist ○
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dimorphodon-x · 2 years
Text
Two Attempts at a Life
I woke up this morning and chose 'continuation' lol actually I spent a good portion of the morning hanging out with my grandma
There might be a third part, but I'd like to figure out what kind of ending I want to give these guys first. A good ending would be nice, but would it really be possible? Would a good ending be an 'everyone dies'? Do they even deserve that? Or is Hawk doomed to be a cryptic cockroach forever? Lots to think on lmaoo
SG sentient Lost light au by @cuppajj
First things first: get out of the closet.
Easier said than done when fighting against hyper aggressive sparkeater instincts. Before being killed, Starhawk had almost complete control of his urges, able to keep Slingarm’s ‘upgrades’ well hidden. Even Rodimus didn’t know about it, just under the impression that Hawk liked biting him on rare occasions. Of course that was before all the slag that went down with Lost Light. Starhawk hadn’t been able to indulge his hunger for centuries.
That may be why his instincts had grown so ravenous, in addition to trying to take advantage of control while his own consciousness was gone. It took him several minutes to wrestle them down so he could properly think.
The mangled jet shook his head, a few more tiny pieces of his face flying off. The fact that he still could think despite being sparkless was nothing short of a miracle. A mindless sparkeater would just start clawing at the door like a locked up dog, alerting the Lost Light of its existence.
He examined his small dark prison, his modified eye zooming in on small details of the door, walls and ceiling. How lucky that his face wasn’t thoroughly destroyed, his upgraded eye often came in handy outside of hunting.
Though even still, his eye had its limitations against the pitch blackness of the closet, so he unraveled his tendrils. They slowly and delicately explored the enclosed space like whiskers. 
‘There,’ Hawk turned his attention to the ceiling. A loose panel he could squeeze through. The loss of his shoulder armor had slimmed him down just enough. How lucky.
He carefully pushed the panel away and pulled his frame through the small opening. Freedom (kind of) but now he needed to figure out where exactly he was and what to do from there. Definitely check to see if he did manage to end Rodimus’ suffering.
..
Starhawk’s remaining talons dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. From the white bits of armor, the same bits he was missing from his own frame, he had indeed hit his intended target. But not well enough.
What was left of his face pulled back in a silent snarl. Curse this stupid ship! Once he was done with his captain, he’d have to find some way of destroying the Lost Light.
The sparkeater part of him suggested hunting down the titan’s spark or brain. Tempting, but he would have to think on it. He never was one to be adept at strategizing, but he needed to be careful now. He likely wouldn’t get another chance if he was caught, if the ship hadn’t detected him already.
After glancing about the room from within the vent, he determined that the area was clear. Slowly and carefully, his tendrils slithered through the vent and hovered over the floor, making their way towards the motionless frame in the chair. The sharp prongs at the ends flexed as they neared Rodimus, detecting his spark. Hawk couldn’t stop himself from drooling.
The click of the door beginning to open caught his attention. Immediately, he reeled the tendrils in and retreated before the door had fully opened.
He’d have to try again later.
..
After retreating from his first (or technically his second) attempt at taking Rodimus’ spark, Hawk had gotten a bit lost. It still wasn’t clear if the Lost Light knew he was crawling about in its walls like a giant rodent, though he was pretty sure he’d be properly dead if it knew.
Maybe being sparkless made his presence harder to detect? He probably wouldn’t ever know for certain. 
Starhawk peered from a vent into the empty hallway as one of his tendrils picked through a nearby body (he was pretty sure it was Magnus from the size and general shape) but there was surprisingly and disappointingly very little to scavenge. 
Most of his time had just been scavenging, wandering and resting. A lot of resting. Going into a dormant state helped calm his mind and give his body time to slowly recover from being ripped apart, as well as save energy. Long dead bodies were a poor source of nutrients for sparkeaters, apparently, and strangers that came to explore the empty ship were few and far between.
He never killed them anyway, as much as he wanted to, as a kill would reveal himself to the Lost Light.
Hearing footsteps, Starhawk once again retreated deeper into the walls of the ship before whoever it was (more than likely Lightlost, if not an unfortunate explorer) stepped into view, taking what little he could of Magnus with him.
..
He snacked on the scavenged remains in one of his designated resting spots. His senses remained highly alert as he listened to the ship’s inner workings. Primus, it was taunting him without even realizing it. All that fuel just sitting right there, waiting for his tendrils to siphon it right from the wall.
The urge to feed was growing stronger as time passed, and he was aware of this. The hungrier he got, the harder it would be to think rationally. He sighed and rubbed at the intact part of his face. He needed to get to Rodimus again. Even if he wasn’t able to kill the Lost Light afterwards, killing its last crew member would be good enough.
His tiny meal finished, Starhawk returned to prowling within the ship’s walls. It would take time and patience for him to reach the room Rodimus was always being kept in. Being so concentrated on a task helped time pass by faster at least.
Once the area was determined to be clear, the sparkeater quietly crawled from the vent. He kept himself low to the floor, crawling on all fours like some kind of weird lizard with the concentration of a cat stalking its prey. He only stood up when he was close to the chair.
Hawk’s four tendrils circled around the captain, prongs ready to drill into his frame at any moment. As he dipped his hands under the prime’s chin to tilt his head back, he felt panic flutter in his chest like some kind of phantom spark. It made him hesitate.
“R…od…?” He breathed out, barely even a whisper. He hadn’t used his voice since he was killed, and he wasn’t sure how long ago that was.
Rodimus’ eyes reacted, actually focusing on his face. Hawk felt his phantom spark drop. He was still there after all?
Drool dripped from the exposed side of his jaw. A prime’s spark was practically in his hands, it was starting to drive the sparkeater side of him crazy. So close, but the fact that Rodimus had any sort of reaction, no matter how minute, made him stop and think. Maybe his captain could be saved! He could be brought back! Maybe Hawk could sneak away and (despite hating this mech with everything he had) find Slingarm to fix him up.
But the Lost Light would get in the way, and maybe even break him down further if he left. His wings nearly rattled with frustration and he wiped the saliva away from his teeth.
There was no easy answer for this and Starhawk, frankly, just wasn’t clever enough to save Rodimus. He grimaced at the wave of emotions that struck him. This wasn’t fair. They had plans! Goals! A future! And this stupid ship took everything!
Crouching down and still caressing the captain’s head, Starhawk pressed his forehead against the other’s. If nothing else, Rodimus was still his, and his alone.
The sharp prongs at the end of his tendrils started to spin as they aimed for the back of the prime’s head.
!!!
Footsteps! 
Panic overcame him, and his instincts told him to retreat. Without thinking, he let go of Rodimus and backed away, eyes widening at the horror of his own stupidity.
“I’ll… return,” he whispered as he retreated back into the vent he crawled from, “I’ll save you.”
‘One way or another, I’ll get you out of here. I promise you that.’
47 notes · View notes
jimilter · 3 years
Text
riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)
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one | two
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pairing:  kim seokjin x reader
rating:  m (18+)
genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au
summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.
warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)
word count: 12.3 k
note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜
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💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
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— masterlist
— feedback is always appreciated!
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riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.
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Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.
The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 
This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.
"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"
And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 
"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.
He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"
If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.
“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”
You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.
And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.
All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.
And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.
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It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 
Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.
And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.
Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 
He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.
But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 
The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.
So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.
So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.
Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.
Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.
"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.
Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.
God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.
Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.
You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…
…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.
Who the fuck?
In his bed?
"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.
You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 
He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 
Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 
In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 
Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.
Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.
Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”
And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.
“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”
That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.
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“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”
You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?
You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”
Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”
To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.
But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.
You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.
You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 
Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?
Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.
You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 
“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”
Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”
You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.
Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”
Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”
Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”
“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”
You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”
You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”
“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”
You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”
“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.
You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”
“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”
You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”
“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”
“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”
“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”
You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”
Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”
You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”
Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”
You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.
Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 
You felt dispensable. 
You hate this feeling.
To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 
You can — but you really don’t want to.
Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 
The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.
Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”
“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.
“They mess up my skincare.”
“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”
You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.
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“You're a dead man.”
Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”
Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”
Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”
Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”
"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 
“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”
Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.
Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”
Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"
Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 
"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 
Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."
“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 
Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”
Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.
You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 
Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 
Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."
Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."
Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.
“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"
"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”
Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”
“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."
Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 
“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.
“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”
“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”
“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”
Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”
Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”
That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.
“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”
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Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 
You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 
Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.
Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.
You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.
“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”
You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.
Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”
Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 
It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.
It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.
But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?
Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.
“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”
Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”
“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”
Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 
He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.
He sighs.
Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”
You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.
“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.
You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.
He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”
You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 
Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”
“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”
Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”
“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”
Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”
“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.
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You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 
You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.
Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.
Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?
With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.
Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.
“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”
“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”
“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"
You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."
You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 
"Jax?"
"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”
“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”
“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"
"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”
You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 
You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.
“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”
It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”
“Um, do I wanna know?”
“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”
“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”
“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”
“Goddammit.”
“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.
“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”
You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."
"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."
You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.
You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 
When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.
You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.
But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.
"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.
“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.
“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”
You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”
"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."
You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."
Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."
You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”
“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”
“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.
“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”
You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”
“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”
You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 
“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.
You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”
“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”
You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”
“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.
Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.
“Jin—”
He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”
Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.
Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 
He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.
But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.
You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.
You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?
You belatedly recall Jackson's words.
Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?
You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.
Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.
You give a weary sigh. 
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Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 
He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 
You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.
So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.
Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 
Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.
Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 
And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.
Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.
He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.
Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x
Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.
Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 
Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.
Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 
Honey✨❤👸 calling...
He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.
Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.
“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.
He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”
He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 
“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.
But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.
“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”
Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”
He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 
He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.
He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.
You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.
He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.
“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”
“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”
He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.
You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.
“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.
Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”
He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”
He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”
You nod at his admission. 
Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.
Jiminie calling...
He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?
Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 
“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 
Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.
“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.
He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”
“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”
Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”
He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 
“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”
“What? Why?”
“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—
Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.
He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 
“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."
Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.
“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”
“Hyung? Say something?”
Seokjin blinks. “You…”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”
“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”
“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.
“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”
“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”
Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”
You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”
Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.
He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 
Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”
“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”
Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.
Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.
“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”
Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”
Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”
Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”
Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”
“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”
Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.
“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.
“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 
Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”
“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”
Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”
Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”
“No, hyung, because you said you would.”
Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”
Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.
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These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 
You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.
You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 
His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.
You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”
Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”
You chuckle. “Yes.”
“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.
You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?
This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.
Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.
Would he? Would he, really?
“You okay, noona?”
You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”
He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”
You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.
You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 
A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 
You exhale. “Sure.”
“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.
You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”
Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.
“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.
You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 
He’s right, isn’t he? 
All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.
You smile as the memories start to filter in.
You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.
You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.
In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 
Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.
Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.
Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 
Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.
You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.
You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.
“Noona?”
You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?
A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.
When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 
“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”
This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”
“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 
You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 
He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."
You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."
You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 
“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."
You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.
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tagging: @shrimpmsg​
note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕
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SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!
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© jimilter | 2021
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
a bitch [one] // leigh shaw
summary: you're used to leigh's constant mood swings and unpredictability, but didn't expect she'd ever do something to hurt you like she did.
warning/s: cheating
author's note: an angsty leigh shaw imagine was requested, so here we are! there's one more part to this so enjoy 😊
part two | masterlist | wattpad
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Leigh Shaw could be a very unpredictable woman.
Ever since the unfortunate death of her husband, Matt, she'd become very erratic. It was hard to remember what she was like before he died, but then she'd flash me a smile and say something adorable and I remembered. Other times though, she could be as explosive as they came. If you ever got swept up in her mood swings, you'd be screwed.
Despite this, I remained by her side. That's what best friends did. Even when she yelled at me or gave me the cold shoulder or treated me like dirt, I stayed because I knew that was what she needed.
One time, a few months after Matt's death, I was stopping by to see how she was. A prime example of the cold effect she could have on people.
I raised my hand to knock, but the door suddenly swung open, revealing a peeved Jules and a pissed Leigh further behind her in the hallway.
"Hey," I greeted her sister with a smile, but she moved past me moodily. I glanced at Leigh before catching Jules' arm, stopping her. "What happened?"
Jules smiled bitterly. "You know, you should reconsider where you put your care, Y/N. Some people just aren't worth it."
At that last part, she glared over my shoulder, no doubt at Leigh. I turned to look at Leigh, who merely stuck a middle finger up at her sister before storming towards to the kitchen.
"What a bitch," Jules mumbled, making me wince because it was such a horrible word.
Jules shook me off before marching to her car to leave. I sighed and turned around to let myself in to their house. Closing the door behind me, I followed after Leigh and found her making toast in the kitchen angrily.
"Hey," I began softly, not wanting to give her another reason to get pissed off. Sitting on a stool at the island, I asked, "What happened?"
She forced a smile as she grabbed her toast from the toaster and dropped it on a plate. "My sister can't respect my space is all."
I pursed my lips awkwardly, watching as she grabbed butter from the fridge. Noticing my silence, she glanced up at me through her eyelashes.
"What?" she deadpanned, pausing from her actions.
"I don't think Jules is trying to upset you," I began, knowing I'd probably regret it. "I'm sure she understands you want space, but she loves you. And when you see someone you love hurting, you feel like you have to do something."
A sour smile broke out on her face as she scoffed. "Wow. Could you have your head stuck any further up Jules' arse?"
"Leigh, that's not what I'm–"
"What the hell are you even doing here?" she snapped. "I didn't invite you, Y/N."
Tensing my jaw, I refrained from getting annoyed. "Believe it or not, I actually wanted to check on you."
She curled her lips into a frown. "Well, I'm fine."
As if to prove that she was, she continued to butter her toast, but when she set her knife down, it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. Frustrated, she slammed a fist on the countertop.
"It's okay, I'll–"
"Just get out," she cut me off when I was making a move to help her. I paused, wondering if she meant it, then her deadly green glare settled on my face. "Leave."
Sighing with defeat, I nodded and wordlessly left.
Sometimes Leigh wouldn't apologise. She'd act like nothing had happened and we'd move on. Other times, she actually would, surprisingly recognising that she'd done something wrong.
There was this one time when I'd invited her over for the evening to eat dinner and watch some films. The dinner went perfectly fine – we talked, we laughed, we spent time together – but then when we settled in the living room to watch a film, things started to unravel.
I can't remember exactly what she'd said. One second we were choosing a film on Netflix, then she was trying to make plans with me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I already had plans with my girlfriend, Alex, and Leigh didn't seem to like this. She'd made a comment under her breath and though I don't remember it specifically, I knew it wasn't polite.
Before I knew it, we were screaming at each other, arguing over the dumbest things. It started off being about my girlfriend and then the most unrelated stuff was being brought up on both of our ends. Sometimes she could be so aggravating, managing to rile me up and bring the worst out in me. The argument lasted a few minutes before she left, leaving me seething and full of hurt.
It was the following day at work when she came to see me next. I owned a café a few doors down from her mother's dance studio and was working a shift when her sister came through the front door.
I smiled at her when she approached the counter dressed in gym gear, her usual getup when at work with her family.
"Hey, how're you doing, Jules?" I asked.
"I'm good," she greeted with a smile, before it faded. "Just a warning, Y/N, Leigh is incoming in one minute. She wants to apologise."
Eyes rolling with mild annoyance, I let out a sigh. As dreadful as our spat was last night, I knew I had to also apologise to her. I'd said some hurtful things that made me feel all icky inside. Going to sleep after a fight was never a nice feeling.
"I don't know how you've put up with her for this long," Jules commented, picking up a cupcake from the display. "She can be so horrible to you."
I frowned, not feeling comfortable talking badly of Leigh behind her back. "That's not fair, Jules. You know what she's going through."
Jules gave me a knowing look. "I do, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat you like she does."
Shrugging, I busied myself with cleaning up the crumbs from Jules' cupcake and giving her a plate.
"I take it you're going to forgive her then," she stated, though she definitely knew the answer judging from her expression.
"We both said some things we shouldn't have," I tried to explain so it didn't seem like I was giving in so easily, which deep down, I definitely knew I was, but Leigh was worth it.
Jules chuckled. "Yep, you're forgiving her. Looks like it's Leigh's lucky day."
I didn't say anything as she picked up the plate, ready to take a seat at one of the tables. Just as she was about to leave, she paused thoughtfully.
"You know, if you didn't have a girlfriend already, I'd say you were whipped," she said casually.
Ignoring her words, I watched her take her a seat on one of the spare tables. She made jokes like that a lot, but the truth was that I would probably do anything for Leigh. We'd been best friends since university – that was way too long to simply throw away our friendship because she was going through a tough time. And yes, the girlfriend talk threw me off at times... by the time I'd realised I liked Leigh as more than a friend, she was engaged. And I got over it, but Jules continued with the jokes and I continued to dismiss it.
As Jules warned, Leigh entered the café and caught my eyes with a nervous smile. I returned it, just as nervous as she looked, before watching her approach the counter. She was dressed in gym gear, like her sister, but a fine layer of sweat coated her skin which made me think she may have just finished teaching a class.
"Hey," she said with a rare gentleness to her voice. Her hands rested on the counter, fumbling slightly, before she put them by her sides instead. "How are you?"
Uncomfortably, I played with a loose thread on my apron. "I've been better, not gonna lie."
She exhaled regretfully. "I want to apologise, Y/N. Last night... it wasn't fair what I did. Just snapping at you like that."
I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and avoided her eyes.
"I just get so angry sometimes," she admitted, noticing I wouldn't speak. She sounded exhausted and I looked up to see her running a hand through her hair. "I can't explain it. My anger at you wasn't about Alex or the plans, it was just me."
"It's because you're still hurting," I told her what I'd observed, shoulders relaxing. "And you're not very good at expressing that."
She shook her head, eyes drifting to the till distractedly. "I should be because I keep hurting the people I love."
My heart ached at the devastation in her voice and I put my hand out, motioning for her to take it. Thankfully, she did and I squeezed hers gently.
"Look, let's just forget it happened," I said with a small smile. "I... I didn't exactly say the nicest of things either."
She grimaced, letting go of my hand. "No, I get why you said it. It wasn't fair of me to just start on you like that. You were just defending your girlfriend... God, I can be such a bitch sometimes."
I winced at the word, it grating my ears. "That's not true, Leigh."
"It is." She nodded slowly, rolling her eyes. "Everybody thinks it. Including you."
"I don't think that," I said with creased brows, meeting her saddened eyes. "You're not a bitch. I've never once thought that."
"Really?" She raised a brow, smiling with defeat. "Not even that time when I stole your doughnuts after that fight we had two weeks ago?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"Not even when I snapped at you for no reason the other day when you tried to help me write my article?"
"Not even then."
Her expression softened with guilt. "Not even when I called you a selfish jerk last night for not wanting to spend time with me even though you have a life of your own?"
I rounded the counter and stopped before her, looking between her guilt-ridden eyes. "Especially not then, Leigh."
She breathed out quietly and I pulled her in for a hug, glad when I felt her relax beneath me. Her arms clasped around my waist and I was glad we were good again.
It was a year later when Leigh and I eventually got together as a couple. It was a long time after I broke up with my girlfriend and it was completely unexpected.
I'd invited Leigh to be my 'date' to my mum's birthday party, since the two had gotten on so well in the past. She was happy to oblige, but as soon as we arrived, her mood changed.
I was helping collect the pizzas from the delivery guy when he started to flirt with me. At the time, I didn't even realise, but I knew that Leigh had acted different since it happened. When I finally confronted her about her sudden mood swing, she proceeded to make out with me completely unexpectedly and then admitted she was in love with me.
I'm not gonna lie, it was a good time. Since breaking up with my girlfriend, I'd been single and falling for my best friend all over again. Leigh making the first move was all I'd needed to finally share how I felt, too.
That was six months ago, and since then, we'd been going strong. Of course, there were still times when she had her mood swings and took it out on me (and literally everyone else) without realising, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I was used to it, used to her. So much that I should have trusted her even when presented with conflicting evidence.
We were at her workplace, Basically News, where she wrote columns part-time. It was a work party she'd been invited to and she'd asked me to be her date, which of course I said yes to. At the moment, we may or may not have been a little tipsy as we stood in the corner, drinking from flutes of champagne.
"Thank you again for coming here tonight as my date," Leigh said with a grin, arms laced around my neck as she held me close.
Pressing a kiss to my lips briefly, she pulled away and left my head spinning, and not just because of the alcohol.
"Any excuse to not be on the closing shift at work is good enough for me," I said playfully, resting my hands behind her waist.
She gasped. "Oh? So it wasn't me who persuaded you to come tonight?"
I pulled a face, feigning forgetfulness. "Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe you'll have to remind me why I agreed to come."
She bit her lip to contain her grin, eyes flickering to my lips. Leaning in, her lips met mine and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she combed her hand through my hair and tilted my head towards her so she could get better access. She was a really good kisser and she knew the effect she had on me as I felt her smirk into it, catching her breath, before chasing down my lips and nibbling on them temptingly.
Remembering where we were, I gently pushed her back and tried to contain my smile. "Make it PG, Leigh. You're at work."
She licked her lips and began to laugh, green eyes darting between mine. "You're just so cute."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't want everyone here knowing how irresistible you are or they might try to steal you away."
Her laughter filled the air, making my stomach flip at the sound.
"Though I think they may already know that because of how sexy you look tonight," I added, eyes fluttering down her body to appreciate just how well she pulled off her fitted black dress.
She raised her brows with surprise, making me mirror her expression comically.
Leaning close to my ear, she said above a whisper, "D'you wanna know something not-so-sexy?"
Her breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine, making me tense up slightly. Judging from the expression on her face, she was very much aware of what she was doing to me.
"What?" I asked with amusement.
"I really need to pee," she said, and I began to laugh because she did, too, and I knew she wasn't kidding. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she added, "I'll be right back."
Letting go of me, she waved goodbye before going to the toilets. I busied myself with getting to know her colleagues whilst I waited, until five minutes had passed and I realised she still hadn't returned. Deciding to check on her, I headed in the direction of the toilets, only to freeze when I saw something I definitely wasn't expecting.
Leigh was kissing another girl outside of them.
It was her colleague, Abby, that was the first thing I noticed. But I didn't stay to make out anything more as I immediately turned around and walked away, trying to make my brain catch up to what I'd just seen.
Leigh was kissing somebody else. Somebody that wasn't me. Somebody who I had always suspected had a thing for her, but I never considered that maybe Leigh had a thing for her, too.
Definitely not tipsy anymore, I found the nearest table and took a seat, trying not to assume the worst. But how else could I perceive what I'd just seen? It could have been a mistake, though I was so shocked and hurt and angry that I couldn't imagine how. Maybe she'd explain herself to me. Or maybe she'd tell me what actually happened. Maybe.
Leigh returned not long after, finding me at the table. Smiling like nothing had happened, she pulled me up and led me to dance. Not once, for the remainder of the evening, did she suggest that anything was out of the ordinary, nor did she explain herself. And I couldn't help but wonder how I had the worst luck with women.
This one hurt way more than the last time because it wasn't just anyone – it was Leigh.
A year and a half ago:
"Danny mentioned the breakdown you had last week because they didn't have doughnuts, so I, er, brought you these just in case."
Leigh cracked a small smile in the passenger's seat before accepting the box I held out to her. I'd just parked up outside the place where she went to her grief counselling group, having offered to drop her off. It had only been a few months since Matt died, but sometimes, the old Leigh shone back through and it made me feel hopeful that she'd make it through this.
"Thank you," she said genuinely, fingers wavering on top of the box, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. "And thanks for the ride. You didn't have to."
I shrugged, thumb tapping the steering wheel mindlessly. "I don't mind. I just wanna make sure you get here okay."
She sighed, shaking her head, though a ghost of a smile was on her lips.
"Text me when you're done and I'll be happy to pick you up, too," I added casually.
"Thanks," she repeated, though didn't make a move to leave my car just yet. I didn't rush her.
Sadly, the silence was broken when my phone began to ring and my girlfriend's name flashed on the screen in my car where my phone was connected to. Glancing at Leigh, I just about made out the eye-roll she did.
"Sorry," I apologised, before declining the call instantly.
"Why d'you do that? Could've been urgent," she said with a clipped tone.
Oh, no, I thought. Whenever she used that tone, it meant she was picking a fight.
"I'm here with you," I said like it was obvious, hoping that one thing didn't ruin the moment.
She tensed her jaw, looking down as her hair fell around her face. "Whatever."
Before I could think of a way to make her feel better, the screen lit up again and my ringtone echoed through the car. I winced at the glare Leigh sent to the screen. If looks could kill, my car would be toast.
Declining the call, I looked to her worriedly. "What's wrong, Leigh?"
Her glare fell to me. "Why the hell do you keep declining it? She's calling you for a reason."
I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm here with you? Alex can wait. I'm taking you to grief group."
"Well, I'm here at grief group," she mocked, turning to face me with an unexplainable frustration.
I didn't understand why she was so touchy all of a sudden. The car ride here, she'd been fine. Just a moment ago, she'd been fine. But now... now she was acting unreasonable.
My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly, followed by a tone that signalled I had a text. Leigh smiled bitterly, rolling her eyes.
"Let me guess," she muttered. "It's her."
Still very much unable to keep up with her mood swings, I didn't answer. Her gaze snapped to mine as she stared at me with disbelief.
"Why the fuck aren't you checking it?!"
I grimaced, my own exasperation slipping out when I blurted, "I'm a little confused to what you want from me right now, Leigh!" Breathing out slowly, I said, "I'm sorry if this is bothering you. I'll turn off my phone next time."
As if I'd deeply offended her, she raised a brow incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Why would this bother me?"
Okay, I was extremely confused now.
"I don't know," I admitted, bewildered.
"Is that what you think of me? Some clingy bitch who won't let you live your life?"
I widened my eyes. "What?! Leigh! I never said–"
"Sorry if taking me is such a task," she said abruptly, moving to put the box of doughnuts on the dashboard.
"I never said that," I told her sternly.
"You didn't have to. I know already. I'm just a burden on everyone."
She got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Meanwhile, my confusion was still trying to make out what the hell just happened.
"Don't bother picking me up," she said through the open window of the passenger's door. A scowl was on her face as she added, "You should go spend time with Alex. She's probably missing you."
Breathing out, I leaned back into my seat and watched her walk away and to the entrance of the building. When she acted like this – so push and pull with her emotions – I was so conflicted. What could possibly be going on in her mind that she managed to flip everything that just happened? A complete 180?
Knowing she'd just need some time to cool off, I shook my head and focused on leaving. But then I remembered my phone went off and pulled it out to see what was so important. Aside from two missed calls from Alex, I saw I had a voicemail, too, not a text.
Grumbling fo myself, still disgruntled by Leigh's attitude, I raised the phone to my ear to have a listen, whilst hoping it wasn't actually anything life-threatening.
At first, all I could hear was some very faint laughing and vague noises, kind of like material rubbing together and breathing. I assumed Alex had left me a voicemail without even realising since I'd done that countless of times to other people, having dropped my phone in my bag without realising it was still on. But then the noises became more distinct and I made out words.
"Jake, stop messing about," a voice said, whom I instantly recognised as my girlfriend.
I furrowed my brows. Jake? Jake as in the guy she worked with Jake?
"If you stop teasing me then maybe I will," a gravelly yet devious voice responded.
My throat went dry when I heard more laughter before it went quiet. It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening, especially when the moans that followed echoed in my ear, begging me not to forget.
Unable to listen anymore, I hung up and threw my phone onto the passenger's seat. Tears welled in my eyes as I glanced over at it hesitantly, almost wishing it hadn't even existed. And as much as I didn't want to accept the glaring fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
She was cheating on me.
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devildomimagines · 3 years
Note
Could u do another "I'm not (blank) enough" requests but instead of MC saying something negative it'd be the brothers saying they aren't enough at something?
This was an interesting request, thanks Anon! I'm sorry it took me a while to get through it but I really had to dig deep to figure out what these arrogant, all powerful demons could feel insecure about.
Here is my other piece Anon is referencing: "I'm Not _______ Enough."
I changed it up a bit from the original but I hope you like it! Also I got carried away and this got pretty long so the other brothers are under the cut lol.
"Am I _______ Enough?"
Belphegor
“Am I reliable enough?”
You had woken up from your nap to his words, and asked “What?” While wiping the sleep from your eyes.
“Can you depend on me?” He reworded the question but didn’t make eye contact.
“Belphie?” You guided his face to look at yours.
“Actually never mind,” he backed out of the conversation and the bed.
“Wait,” You sat up and pushed out of the bed too, already missing the warmth.
Once in front of him, you stated, “You’re reliable!”
His blush was slight but you caught it before he amended, “I know that I’m not always hanging off you like Mammon or Asmo-“
“That’s ok!” You interrupted, “Sorry,” you quickly apologized when he gave you a look.
“But I know that with your sin, it gets physically uncomfortable to be awake for long periods like how Beel gets after not getting enough food. I know if I ever needed you,” you took his hand, “you’d be there.”
He took a moment to let the scene sink in before squeezing your hand, giggling, and roughing up your hair, “That’s right, bed head,” He teased.
“Yours isn’t any better!” You moved to do the same to him but he dodged.
The two of you continued to play fight but didn’t let go of the other's hand. Belphie seemed lightened by your confirmation and you enjoyed the rare bout of playful activity with the youngest.
Beelzebub
“Am I warm enough?”
“Heck yeah! You’re like a space heater!”
He laughed, “Thanks, MC.” But his smile faded too quickly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand?” You went from sitting across from him to sitting next to him at the table, “Do you not want to be a space heater?”
That got him smiling again, “No, that’s not it, I guess I meant warm like friendly?”
“Well then it’s a resounding yes, you’re super friendly Beel!” You gave his back a rub and a pat for punctuation.
“Oh… ok,” he went back to his snack which you assumed he would but his response wasn’t sitting right with you.
“Do you not believe me?” You looked up at him with your best puppy dog pout.
Congrats, your cuteness made the Avatar of Gluttony choke! He coughed and pounded on his chest with a closed fist.
You offered your apology and he waved it off as he took some gulps of his drink.
“No I do believe you MC.” He started covering your hand on the table with his and before your hand was completely enveloped he stopped.
“What is it then?” You prodded.
“Just a teammate commented on how I made chills run down his spine with just my stare.”
“Ah, I think Asmo would know that as a resting b*tch face,” you scratched your chin sagely
He frowned, “I can’t do anything about that, that's just how my face is.”
“Exactly! So don’t stress it, he’s still your teammate and friend, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Beel mulled it over and you could practically see the weight of it rise off his shoulders as he sat up straighter and accepted it.
“There he is,” you thought as he exuded an easy confidence but your thoughts were disrupted when he pulled you into an embrace. He whispered near your ear, “Thanks.”
“Who could think this wasn’t warm?” You thought as you snuggled into his hold.
Asmodeus
“Am I attentive enough?”
“What brought that up?” You questioned looking up from your spot on his bed. It wasn’t like Asmo to show his insecurities.
“Just some gossip going around,” He tried to minimize the claims and continued fussing with his hair.
“Oh, well, you know how gossip gets, you just have to ignore it and it’ll go away,” you repeated the same advice he had given you when you first arrived in the Devildom and there were vicious rumors and tabloid articles written about the exchange program participants.
“But am I?!”
The hurt look on his face paired with the desperation in his question made it plainly obvious this meant more to him than he wanted to let on.
“Of course-”
Asmo cut you off, “MC, you have to be deadly honest right now.”
“You’re attentive Asmo,” You confirmed without a shadow of a doubt.
He chewed his lip and cheek debating the statement.
You got up from the bed and came to stand in front of Asmo. You cupped the cheek he was chewing on and he stopped.
With a small nudge you made him swivel to look back in the mirror, “What were the rumors saying?” Your own curiosity running wild, what could bring Asmo to this?
Surprisingly Asmo looked away from the reflection of you two to answer in a small voice, “That if I didn’t pay attention to you, they’d sweep in and take you for themselves.”
That stunned you for a second, you didn’t think it would involve you. “Well first of all, I don’t even know them, how are they going to even get close to me at this point?” 
Asmo considered this, you were always with him or one of his brothers.
“Second, you’re always paying attention to me, you probably know my facial expressions better than I do,” you laughed and he couldn’t help a small snort of his own.
“Third, even on days when you’re stressed, or excited about a new make-up launch and your energy is elsewhere, you always,” you squeezed his arm for emphasis, “ALWAYS check in on me.”
Asmo bit his lip once more but this time holding back a smile. He clearly couldn’t hold it back when he locked you in a hug and squealed your name.
Satan
“Am I patient enough?”
You knew this was something that he consciously worked on so you quickly confirmed, “Yes,” then turned the page of your book.
He was a little shocked at your quick resolution and not totally satisfied. He closed his book and asked, “There was never a time when you think I couldn’t have been more patient?”
“Well sure, but I think that about myself too.”
That was also surprising to Satan, “How? You’re even more patient than me.”
 “I’m only human,” You shrugged, as you closed your own book, recognizing this was going to be more of a discussion.
“And I’m only demon?” Satan returned sarcastically. He did not appreciate the turn of phrase.
“Sorry, I meant, I’m not perfect, no one is. You can’t hold yourself to an impossible standard because you’ll only be destined to be disappointed when you don’t live up to it.” You paused for the idea to settle with him.
He contemplated the sentiment.
“The way I see it,” you continued, “As long as you’re trying to do better then that’s what matters.”
Satan weighed that thought as well.
“And there is an even bigger secret with patience that not a lot of people know,” you baited.
Satan asked “And what’s that?” Hook, line, and sinker.
“I don’t know if you’re ready,” you taunted and reopened your book. If there was one thing you knew you could entice Satan with, it was some kind of hidden knowledge.
He moved across the room and closed your book in your hand for you.
You looked up at him looming over you with a sweet smile.
He smiled back at you, knowing you were playing with him. “And what’s that?” He repeated but you knew it was more of a command this time.
“Fine, I’ll share the secret with you so listen well.”
He started to nod before you caught his face in your hands. His eyebrows shot up to wordlessly question your action but didn’t break the silence, his proof he was listening.
“People don’t always realize that the most important part of patience is…” you paused and savored the interest in Satan’s eyes, “that you have to afford yourself the same patience you give to others.”
His brows furrowed trying to unravel the words in his mind. 
While he did so, you pulled his head down slightly so you could give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Then pat his cheek and released him. 
He took a step back, almost in a daze, you certainly gave him something to think about.
Leviathan
“Am I supportive enough?”
You looked up from the manga you were reading and Levi was staring down at the manga in his hand. His hands were holding the sides tightly as he waited for your response.
“How so?” You prompted.
“L-like this,” Levi pushed the manga towards you. You scanned the panels, the scene being depicted looked like it was one where the love interest was cheering on the main character while they were participating in a sports festival.
“Well you’re not like this,” you had to be honest and you could see he was already starting to sulk, “but you’re supportive in your own way.”
He tsked and took the manga back.
“Levi, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” you apologized.
“It’s fine,” Levi turned the page, “I know I’m a gross otaku shut in.”
“No, stop.” You closed the manga, you dug this hole so it was time to climb out.
He listened and looked over at you, annoyed.
“You’re supportive Levi. There are different ways to be supportive!”
He rolled his eyes, not believing you.
Alright this guy wants to play hardball, you could play with the best of them. “You always make sure that I’ve eaten and slept, even if you haven’t. For as long as we’ve had a pact, you’ve always come to my defense even though I know you hate confrontation. When I find a new show, game or book that I’m interested in, you always take the time to learn about it yourself so I can talk to someone about it.”
By the end, Levi’s face was red, his ears were red, you could swear his hands were even shaking a little bit.
“So sure, you’re not yelling your support from the roof of the House of Lamentation like that character,” you took one of his hands and his eyes darted between your face and your interlaced hands, “but I appreciate your quiet kind of support.”
Leviathan.exe has stopped working. It took a solid 5 minutes to regain his voice.
“M-M-MC!” he whined, “That’s so embarrassing!” He slumped down to hide his face but didn’t dare remove his hand from yours.
“Was it super effective?” You laughed at your joke.
He groaned from his drooped state but he squeezed your hand and you knew that it was.
Mammon
“Am I humble enough?”
At first, you have to bite your tongue to keep from outright laughing. 
Surely the demon who regards himself as “The Great Mammon” would see the irony in asking this.
But he was quiet and reflective, a stark contrast to his usual self.
You sat down next to him on the sofa in the living room, with a pat on his back you opted to offer what you thought he wanted to hear, “Sure you are buddy.”
“Are ya messing with me?” of all times for Mammon to be observant.
You were as bad a liar as he was so when you looked away and scratched your cheek instead of answering Mammon knew you were lying.
He sighed and his shoulders dropped as he caught his head in his hands.
“Well you don’t have to be humble!” You defended, feeling bad for your white lie earlier.
He peeked up at you and you took the opportunity to stand up in front of him, “You’re like the third strongest demon in all of Devildom! You should be proud of that!”
He rolled his eyes but you could see a shadow of a smile play on his lips.
“Not only are you strong but you’re very caring, not only to your brothers but to me too,” you suggested and on queue Mammon flushed.
“I’m not,” he tried to deny.
“Oh that’s not true. Remember when Belphie ruined that painting and you took the fall for it?”
His eyes opened wide in shock, “How did you-”
“Or that time when I was sick and you took such good care of me?” You added in a sing-song tone.
“Shuddup!” Mammon was now standing and placed a hand over your mouth as he looked around for his brothers. He looked back at you, “I got a reputation to uphold, y’know.”
After a muffled laugh, you pulled his hand away, “What I’m saying is you don’t have to be modest.”
“Yeah I guess when you put it that way,” He rubbed the back of his head considering.
“So what’s on the agenda for the day for The Great Mammon?”
He squinted his eyes at your teasing tone but smirked and grabbed your hand to drag you along. You went willingly with a snicker.
Lucifer
“Am I compassionate enough?”
He didn’t look up from the paperwork he was reviewing when he posed the question to you.
At first you tilted your head and wondered if he was even addressing you.
When he did finally look up, you knew he was waiting for your answer.
“Yeah, I think so?” You didn’t mean to phrase it as a question but were more concerned with how this even came up.
“You think so?” Lucifer repeated incredulously.
“Yes,” you reinforced, “where’s this coming from?” You were taking a risk in questioning Lucifer, there was probably a 50/50 chance he would actually answer. 
It was rare that he would even voice a question about his character.
He frowned and went back to his paperwork. You figured that was the end of the conversation, this being the 50% of the time that he would not answer. You went back to perusing his record collection to find something to play.
“Simeon mentioned how ruthless I’ve become.”
You looked back over at Lucifer. He looked more tired than he did just a moment ago. Simeon’s comment must have been wearing on him.
You picked a record you knew he liked and put it on before walking over to his desk.
He sighed, put down his pen and rubbed his eyes.
You leaned against the desk with your arms crossed and he faced you, the weariness even more apparent up close.
“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.
He grimaced, already thinking the worst but nodded.
“I think your ruthlessness comes from a compassionate place.”
From his one raised eyebrow, you could tell that wasn’t what he was expecting and he was waiting for your explanation.
“For example,” you began, “you care about your brothers, so when you punish them, it’s for their own good or to save them from a worse fate. You might not admit this one, but you’ve become sympathetic to Diavolo’s moods and disposition and so acting in accordance with how it will reflect on him and enforcing those standards has become second nature, hasn’t it?” He looked away.
You knew he wouldn’t answer that so you looked away yourself and continued, “You may have at first picked me as a candidate for the exchange program because of my connection to Lilith and housed me at the request of Diavolo,” you laughed at what you were about to say for the first time out loud, “but since getting to know me, I like to think that you’ve had a change of heart and genuinely care about my well-being despite those factors.”
There was a moment of silence and you felt your face heat up, nervous that maybe you overestimated your importance.
Before you could look back at him, he had stood up and enclosed you in a hug. You smiled, uncrossed your arms and hugged him back. 
He was humming along with the song so you made one more bold choice and started swaying in time with the rhythm. He chuckled, shifted to hold one of your hands, and properly led you in a dance around the room. 
You hoped his light footsteps were a reflection of how light his heart was feeling.
All signs of the weariness from moments ago were completely gone.
429 notes · View notes
arielxlazarus · 3 years
Text
I almost forgot about that fanfic appreciation week, but I wanted to at least do something for it! So here's a rec list for some of my favorite fics in the one piece fandom!
This list is not at all exhaustive btw (there's still loads of other fics in the fandom that I love), so please don't feel bad if you weren't included! Also if anyone wants more recommendations from me, you can check out my bookmarks on my ao3!
Who Knows (what could happen) by Chromi
Rating: T
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: For as long as he could remember, he had wanted to set out to sea as an adventurer. His father, unfortunately, dictated that he was to follow the family tradition and become a doctor instead.
Following a lifetime of hurt and sorrow at the hands of his family, he eventually breaks free and takes to the sea alone - determined to keep it that way. Fate has other ideas in store for him; fate crosses his path with Portgas D. Ace's, a brand new pirate.
And what does he hate more than pirates?
Nothing.
Or: from Sixis to the Moby Dick - the lives of the Spade pirates.
First Time by Chromi
Rating: E
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: "Because it is Ace, and it will only ever be Ace, that he wants to see like this, and he wants to be responsible for unravelling him down to his core and loving him to his very center."
In which Ace and Deuce go all the way for the first time.
@chromiwrites
Seabound by AnkhPosts
Rating: T
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Ace is a selkie, making one of his periodic stops on land to catch a breather and get some ridiculously tasty human food, maybe see some sights if there are any. His pelt is safely hidden, he'll stay a day or two at most and be on his way.
Deuce is a mer, alone on the sea and traveling as he pleases for the first time in his life, and while he might not be terribly interested in actually interacting with humans it's hard not to see them as fascinating.
Ace meets Deuce. Deuce meets Ace. Neither knows the other isn't human.
@ankhposts
Death is only the beginning by Chizyk
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: “Ankhreshet?” he whipped his head round at the sound of a raspy voice so fast he almost got whiplash. He could feel his body going completely cold as he saw the mummy’s empty eye sockets staring right at him.
@chizyk
I'm Still Here (part of a series) by theprodigypenguin
Rating: M
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace (also Izou/Sabo later in the series)
Summary: "When I do die, don't bother burying me in that empty grave. Put my body in a boat and set me out to sea. Let me sleep eternal on the ocean that my father loved so much; because before everything else in this world, I am a child of the sea, and when I die, I want to return to it. Put me in a boat and set it aflame so I can go down in the same fire I lived."
Forget-Me-Not Fall by theprodigypenguin
Rating: M
Pairing: Izou/Sabo
Summary: “Most of the nobles I’ve met tonight look meticulously put together. They look like they were built to portray a certain image paralleled a hundred times over. People who were copied and pasted. Flawless clothes, flawless faces, flawless makeup, flawless hair.”
“Not me though,” Sabo stated, and Izou hummed.
“It’s comforting.”
“Huh?”
Izou met Sabo’s eye. “Everyone else in this place hides their worst attributes with a mask they modified to fit their faces. They don’t seem to comprehend that those perfect masks only make their worst characteristics more pronounced and defined.” His expression was terribly gentle as his eyes wandered across Sabo’s face. “It’s comforting to be approached by someone not trying to be something else.”
Sabo tilted his head. “How do you know I’m not manipulating you like some common Goa aristocrat?”
Izou smiled. “There are a few reasons.”
@theprodigypenguin
A Light To Guide You Home by TheSkyIsMyHome
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: In a world that despises mutants, Ace lives purely to protect his little brother.
Until the flames inside him find their perfect match and opposite, and he doesn't know what to feel anymore.
The Phoenix's Mate by TheSkyIsMyHome
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Marco is a handsome man. Ace really can't be blamed for being attracted to him. Nobody minds, either.
But Marco isn't always a man. Ace still loves him regardless, and his sexual urges are catching up to that fact.
Marco indulges him, but he might just find himself enjoying it more than he thought he would.
@evvazi
ASL in Red (series) by Kereea
Rating: G-T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law (both asexual), Koala/Sabo, Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Benn Beckman, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante/Aokiji | Kuzan, Roronoa Zoro/Sanji, and several other minor ones
Summary: In an alternate universe, forces conspired to put Ace, Sabo, and Luffy in the care of the Red Hair pirates as children.
The Grand Line would never know what hit it.
Mates (part of a series) by Deubatty
Rating: E
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Deuce just wanted to go searching for plants! A nice walk in the woods. Except, he ends up becoming the mate to a very persistent naga
His First Mate The Mermaid (part of a series) by Deubatty
Rating: T
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Instead of finding another person on Sixis, Ace finds a mermaid
@masked-writer
Being Human by MaiKusakabe
Rating: E (no smut)
Pairing: None (heavy focus on the platonic relationships between Marco, Whitebeard, and the rest of the crew as they form)
Summary: The line that differentiates human from object appears to be clear, but sometimes it blurs to the point where it is impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
The Unknown Devil by MaiKusakabe
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Ace hadn’t expected his last week of imprisonment before his execution to be any different from all the years preceding it. Then again, he hadn’t expected to have Marco the Phoenix as a cellmate for that week, or that Marco’s presence would shake his bleak world so much.
Ripple Effect by MaiKusakabe
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: After the incident with Shanks, Garp didn't take Luffy to Dadan's, unaware of how much that would change the life of his other grandson.
@maisstories
To Build a Home by endlessblankpages
Rating: G
Pairing: None (heavy focus on the platonic relationships between the ASL bros and the Whitebeard Pirates)
Summary: The ASL pirates are used to being accused of crimes they didn't commit. But when they're accused of destroying a small village in the New World, it sends them hurtling toward a deadly confrontation with the strongest man in the world, Whitebeard. The results are not what they were expecting.
Persistence & The Impossible (part of a series) by dragonsfall
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: In order to keep himself from losing his job, Ace takes on an impossible story. Get an interview with the ever-elusive Phoenix. Guess he might as well kiss his job goodbye.
Self Discovery (part of a series) by dragonsfall
Rating: E
Pairing: Izou/Sabo (sort of, it's technically masturbation)
Summary: Sabo has been waiting for a day like this for a while but it doesn’t go quite how he planned it.
@clockworkpanic
A Breach of Intention by Depths
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: It was unspoken, but some pirate crews and mermaids had an unspoken solidarity. Pirates throw their enemies overboard, and the merfolk will take care of them.
mer!ace au
@leviathiane
Running on All Sixes by lunarshores
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, minor Izou/Thatch
Summary: The Whitebeard gang might be one of the most influential in the city, but to Marco they're just his family. Though he sometimes wishes they'd just leave him alone, especially when Izo's playing matchmaker, and Ace is his usual oblivious self. When a brother betrays them, they'll have to fight to show why no one ever messes with their family.
nothing is impossible with you by lunarshores
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Five times Ace and Marco accidentally mixed their flames on accident and one time that was entirely on purpose.
@lunarshores
I Want You to Look at Me by shockandlock
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: One night, Marco is missing from dinner, so Ace decides to bring dinner to him. He's surprised to see Marco wearing glasses and now he can't stop thinking about the way he looks. Now with additional chapter(s) including more miscellaneous MarcoAce PWP!
To My Dear Fire (part of a series) by shockandlock
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Living in the city is a new thing for Ace. After being raised near a cozy coastal mountain town through his childhood, it's definitely a change of pace, but it doesn't help when he loses his new job after an unfortunate encounter with actor Marco Newgate. He just wants to live-- and meet his long time pen pal, Phoenix.
Marco knows that being an actor is hard, so he takes the little things when he can: writing his pen pal (and honestly one of his best friends) Fire Fist, flirting with the cute new waiter at his favorite café-- not that he has a chance after a disaster on social media. But maybe fate really does give him a second chance when Ace shows up at Four Emperor Studios...
@shockandlock
Uncharted Territory by silverwolf_fox
Rating: E
Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: This was by far one of Ace's most ridiculous ideas.
When Deuce keeps getting flustered everytime he tries to dominate Ace, they created an opportunity where he didn't have to be afraid of messing up.
Now he's free to do and try whatever he wants...
...so long as Ace doesn't wake up.
Watching the Sunrise (part of a series) by silverwolf_fox
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Many years have passed since Rouge gave up her life for her son’s...except she didn’t die, but she thinks Ace did. Living her life on Baterilla, she’s mourned each and every day until the morning she receives his bounty poster. She sets off immediately to find him, but finds their meeting isn’t as easy as she’d imagined.
@the-devil-fruit-tree
never shall i forget, how you climbed out of a dream by siojo
Rating: T
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: “Kaido,” Ace smirks, flames burning around his feet as he shifts in preparation for Kaido’s next attack, already trying to decide what he’s going to do in response. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve seemed to have been enjoying yourself here.”
“I thought you would be smarter than this, Portgas. You’ve never tried to fight another Yonko before, your bounty won’t matter much when you lose.”
Ace barks a laugh, his teeth bared in a facsimile of a grin, “You must have missed out on the brawl I had with Big Mom after she sent two of her daughters and a son for me to consider marrying. This is a bit more personal than that.”
@wordsdrippinginink
Reborn in Fire by aerle
Rating: M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Fireman Marco has earned the nickname 'the Phoenix' by saving numerous people from a certain death. After an accident however, he has to relearn to walk and gets a new job as arson inspector at a different fire station. There he gets confronted with a boy from his past, now all grown up and gorgeous.
Three's a Crowd, Four's a Double Date by aerle
Rating: M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace (main), Izou/Thatch (secondary)
Summary: "We're not dating," Marco said definitively. "That we're sharing a bed tonight is a total coincidence."
@aerle
Universal Dive by EmpressKira
Rating: M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Ace had been making his way through the city to go to one of his favorite cafes. Well, that was until this hole ripped in the sky and some pirate fell out with the flaming bird guy following. Getting targeted, he is dragged into a different world with pirates and everything defying the reality he is used to. Will he make it home? Will he go back when the time comes?
@empresskira
Blue moon (series) by de_Winter
Rating: T-M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Urban fantasy AU, werewolf Marco and witch Ace
Red Velvet by de_Winter
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: Ace already knew their routine by heart, just from observing them for a couple of mornings when he had early delivery, and from Izou’s daily long winded—and probably sexually frustrated—rants. Big Blond would come out of the bakery wearing a shirt too tight for him and too thin for the weather as soon as he was done setting up the tables inside the storefront, holding a take out cup and a small box in his big hands. They looked really, pleasantly big from where Ace was standing, and he honestly wished he wasn't standing that far away.
@dee-de-winter
We'll Look Back and Laugh at Ourselves by JuHuaTai
Rating: M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, minor Gol D. Roger/Portgas D. Rouge
Summary: Between his new boyfriend and his workaholic boss, Marco felt like he was surrounded by family issues of the father and son dispute variety. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
Or maybe he should've listened to the office gossip more. Maybe then he'd figure it out sooner.
Gratitude of the Phoenix (part of a series) by JuHuaTai
Rating: M
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: [Based on 'The Crane Wife' Folklore]
One day, he saved a bird from freezing to death in a trap. Then, a stranger saved him from suffering the same fate, and a request to stay for one night turned into having someone to fill the void left in the small cottage and in his heart ever since his brothers left.
These two incident doesn’t seem to be related to one another, but they both changed Ace’s life in ways he could never have imagined.
Watashitachi wa Roger kaizoku desu (we still stand proud) by stereden
Rating: T
Pairing: None (heavy focus on Buggy, Shanks, and Crocus)
Summary: The Roger Pirates disappeared after their Captain's death, and were happy enough to let the Marines forget about them.
Until the Marines decide to execute their Captain's son, that is.
@stereden
This Bites! by Xomniac
Rating: M
Pairing: None (heavy focus on a main character oc and the strawhat pirates)
Summary: Sea Kings, sea-sickness, sunburns, a 95% genocidal Navy and more than a million and one other assorted ways to die. It's official: Being inserted into an anime sucks ass... Buuut I guess it could be worse. I mean, look on the bright side: At least I'm sailing with the future king of the pirates.
A Fortune that Never Grows Old by imperialmint
Rating: E
Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace
Summary: It's one thing to get butterflies in your stomach when you seen an attractive person but it's another thing entirely for Marco to want to stomp out a courtship ritual and lay foundations for a nest when he meets the navy's new (hot) secret weapon.
@imperialmint
Most of the authors on this list have many other excellent one piece fics I'd definitely suggest checking out! Enjoy your reading and try to show them all some love if you can!
201 notes · View notes
fanmoose12 · 3 years
Text
catch me if you can
Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman
Genres: Mystery / Romance
Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.
Chapter 12/?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Сhapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
“Oi, lady, have you gone mute? Or did you call just to give me a silent treatment?”
Kenny, that voice belonged to Kenny. Kenny was just on the other line, Levi had finally found him, in the most unexpected way, in the most unexpected place.
Levi wanted to say so much, wanted to yell and scream, wanted to curse at his uncle before his throat was dry. But his tongue felt heavy, stuck to the roof of his mouth, and in that moment, the only thing he could manage was a breathy whisper,
“Kenny?”
The only reply he got was silence, which grew in intensity with every passing second. Levi could sense Hange’s bewilder and shock, her hard gaze was burning the back of his head. But Levi ignored her for the time being. He’d deal with her later, after he’d get out of Kenny just where the fuck he was hiding.
However… Kenny still didn’t give an answer. The bastard was going to end the call and throw away that phone, he was going to slip away and disappear again. Levi couldn’t let him. He was sick of chasing Kenny, of being three steps behind him.
It was time they talk, whether Kenny wanted to or not. Levi tightened his hold on the phone, lamenting that he couldn’t fist his hands in the lapels of Kenny’s stupid long coat to give him a firm, rough shake. Then, perhaps, Kenny would finally get his head out of his ass.
“I know you’re still here,” Levi gritted, his exasperation slipping through, “So stop fucking around, and start talking.”
Finally, that earned Levi a reaction. Kenny sighed, the sound alarmingly weary. “I told you to quit, didn’t I?”
“I couldn’t, and you know that.”
Kenny let out another sigh, this time accompanying it by a colorful curse. “Are you still running around city with that detective in tow?”
Levi chanced a glance of Hange. She was staring back at him, impatience written all over her face.
“Yes. What of it?”
“Can you shake her off?”
Could Levi do that? Possibly. But did he want to do it? Not particularly. He and Hange had an agreement, after all – Levi gets his uncle, Hange gets her missing girl. Fair and square. He wasn’t going to lie to her again, even for his uncle’s sake.
“I can’t. And cut the bullshit, Kenny. Tell me where the fuck are you.”
There was another beat of silence, this one was aggravating Levi a lot more. He meant to snap at Kenny again, but just as he was opening his mouth, a vile curse on the tip of his tongue, Kenny said,
“Remember the house we used to live in? When you mother was still alive? You will find me there.”
Levi took a deep breath, a million of questions ready to spill out. The call was disconnected before he could utter a single word.
Of course, what else he was expecting from his uncle? Cooperation? Clear communication? That was never their way.
What he found surprising, however, was that Kenny was hiding in their old house. Levi would have never suspected it as his hiding place. He didn’t know that house still existed at all, he thought Kenny had gotten rid of it a long time ago – sold it away or destroyed.
But he hadn’t. And now Levi didn’t know what to think of it. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about going back to his childhood home, a house he shared with his mother, a place where he had spent the happiest of his years, before the biggest tragedy of his life struck.
Would be overwhelmed with sweet nostalgia? Or be struck by immerse grief?
Or, maybe, he would be too occupied with yelling at his uncle to notice any kind of different, more solemn feeling. The third option was certainly the most preferred one.
Turning to face Hange, Levi was meaning to explain everything to her. But as their eyes met, the quiet of the night city was interrupted by a shrill sound of her ringtone.
Hange winced, silently apologizing, and took out her phone, putting it to her ear. Levi frowned, wondering who could call her this late in the evening. He had his suspicion, of course…
It was confirmed when Hange answered the call with ‘Erwin! Is everything alright?’.
Puffing an annoyed breath, Levi paced a few steps away, giving Hange at least the illusion of privacy. But as his legs carried him away from her, his ears strained, catching every bit of conversation that he could.
However, understanding what Hange and her boss were talking about proved to be quite a task, when her replies consisted mostly of ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Huh? What do you mean’ and ‘It can’t be!’. Hange ended the call in less than a minute, finishing it with a decisive ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible’.
She approached Levi immediately after.
“We need to go to the precinct.”
What? Like hell they did, they finally found Kenny, what could be more important than this?
“Reiss showed up there.” Hange explained, answering his unasked question and furious expression. “He wants to give a statement about Historia’s disappearance.”
Well… that changed the outset a bit, Reiss’ statement was if not useful, then certainly intriguing, but they found Kenny. In Levi’s eyes, that was still the more important clue. Not to mention… that was his initial and only goal.
“I know where Kenny is,” he told Hange, expecting it to change her plans completely.
He should have known that steering Hange away from something she had already set her mind on wouldn’t be so easy.
“We’ll go there right after I take that statement from Reiss.”
She looked so calm and rational, a stark contrast to the storm inside of Levi. Did she really not understand how significant their finding was? Levi was ready to growl from frustration.
He took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. “Hange—”
“Levi.” she moved closer as well, almost invading his personal space. “We will do this my way, or you will do nothing at all.”
Oh, so she was threatening him now? As if that would ever work on him.
“Alright,” he conceded, crossing hands on his chest. “Let’s split up then. You go to Reiss and your darling boss, I go to Kenny.”
Levi thought he’d struck gold with his suggestion. Both of them would get what they wanted without sacrificing precious time. It was perfect, wasn’t it?
Hange evidently didn’t think so. She laughed in his face, stating, “Don’t take me for a fool. Do you really think I’d let you go to see your uncle all by yourself?”
So that was it. The good old argument making a return.
“Really, Hange? After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t trust me?”
Perhaps, some of his hurt had reflected on his face, because Hange suddenly deflated, something close to shame flashing in her eyes. “It’s not about you,” she mumbled, looking to the side.
“Not about me?” this spurred his anger even more. “Then, who is it about?”
Hange clenched her jaw. “It’s about your uncle, Levi. I trust you, but I cannot and will not trust him. Would you have felt differently, if you were in my place?”
Hange’s concern and doubts were certainly… reasonable. He knew Kenny would never hurt him, not intentionally, but would he feel the same if he didn’t know him his whole life? If they weren’t family?
Of course, he wouldn’t. And Hange had even more reasons to distrust him, fighting her on that was futile. He could try some more to convince her, could try and make a run for it, but he’ll just end up wasting even more time that was now so precious.
“Alright,” his shoulders slumped, as he surrendered. Arguing with Hange had a way of making him extremely exhausted. “Let’s go to your shitty precinct.”
“Really?” Hange raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You agreed that easily? I thought I would need to handcuff you…”
Well, wouldn’t that be an interesting twist of events. Maybe, he would have enjoyed it. Once the embarrassment wore off, of course.
“Thanks for sparing me then.”
“Mm,” Hange patted his shoulder with a smile. “Don’t do anything stupid, and you’re totally safe.”
Ah, what a relief.
“Shall we go, then?” she started walking, her arm already lifted to hail a taxi. She didn’t even wait to hear his answer.
Levi cursed and hurried to catch up with her.
___
The whole time they spent in the car that was headed to the fucking police precinct, Levi felt like he was sitting on needles. There was another reason why he wasn’t crazy about going to that place, and, although, it was nearly not as important as his primary one, now it was making his anxiety rise to drastic heights.
Here he was, semi-willingly heading to the police precinct again. To the place that swarmed with cops, where some of Hange’s colleagues were probably aware that he was a criminal, where he would once again meet with Erwin fucking Smith.
Their last interaction ended somewhat amicably, but what could guarantee this one would be just as successful? With man as cunning as he was, who could be sure what was going inside that big brain of his?
Besides… there was another problem, hanging heavily on his mind. And in the silence of the taxi car, Levi decided to try and deal with it.
“Hey,” he started cautiously, attracting Hange’s attention. She shifted in her seat to look more comfortably at him. Despite that, Levi kept his gaze trained forward. “We’re going to meet Kenny soon, and, hopefully, untangle all this mess, so… have you decided what will happen with him afterwards?”
What will happen with me afterwards, was the question Levi wisely chose not to voice out.
“What will happen to your uncle?” Hange pursed her lips, a point finger tapping at her chin. “I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on the solution to this riddle.”
“And his…” theirs, “previous crimes? Are you going to just forget about them?”
“I can’t really do anything else about it. Technically, we have no suspects or any kind of damning evidence. Technically, that case has been closed almost two months ago.”
“So…” he put his hands into fists, keeping them from picking at the fabric of his pants. He still didn’t lift his face, reluctant to look into her eyes. He still didn’t ask the question that tormented him the most, afraid to hear the answer.
“After all of this is over… you’re free to go,” apparently, Hange knew what he was thinking about, even without him asking the question out loud. “Like I said, there is nothing I can do to pin those thefts on you or your uncle, and since, unlike your uncle, you haven’t kidnapped a young girl…”
“Oh. So you won’t try to put me behind bars anymore?”
He was almost disappointed to hear about it.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Hange protested. “I would love to do that, but I have no means to do it.”
“The horrible bureaucracy saved me?”
That earned him a delighted chuckle. Levi’s chest swelled with pride because of this little achievement. “Unfortunately, you’re not the only criminal that got away because of it.”
“All the more reasons to thank it then.”
“Or curse it vilely.”
Levi shrugged, his lips curling in a smirk. “Depends on the point of view, I guess.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and when Levi chanced a glance at Hange, he found that she wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her face was turned to the window, her fingers drumming on the seat between them in a slow, irregular manner. She seemed pensive. Levi wondered about the reason for it.
“Hey, since we started talking about it…” the rhythm created by her fingers grew stronger, more erratic. “Have you decided what are you going to do after we finish the case?”
Had he thought about? He hadn’t had the time. But even if he had, what was there to think about? He didn’t have a lot of options.
“I remember you mentioning some kids from Singapore,” Hange continued. “Are you going to go back to them?”
Going back to the brats? That didn’t sound all that bad. Just this morning they’ve sent him a photo of the three of them, telling that they’ve settled comfortably in Jean’s summer house. They said that they’ve missed him. Levi was feeling the same. But was that enough to build a life there, so far away from his home?
He could stay with Kenny, but what if Kenny went to prison? Would there be a reason for Levi to stay then?
“You know… I think we made a pretty good team. So if you ever tire of being a vile criminal…” Hange trailed off, letting Levi fill the blanks himself.
If he understood what Hange was offering correctly, then… Oh. Levi felt his chest warm up, moving downwards, spreading that pleasant fluttering to his stomach.
Hange still was staring at the window, refusing to meet his eyes. Her reflection, however, was perfectly visible to Levi, and the slight rosy color on her cheeks made his own heat up.
“What, are you proposing I become your crime solving buddy?”
Hange shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I could use some of your skills.”
“I’ll think about it then,” he said, mirroring her detached voice.
Hange faced to him with a beam shining on her lips. It was enough to make Levi smile back.
___
Despite the late hour, the precinct was bustling with activity. Remembering his last visit and the half-dead building he found that time, Levi wondered if he just caught the police station on a particularly slow night, or if that was how it always operated, and the amount of officers running around that they saw now was unusual.
"So Reiss is actually here," Hange muttered. "Or something really bad has happened. Can't imagine what else could cause this commotion."
Oh, his assertion was correct then. The precinct was so active just because of Reiss’ arrival.
Hange walked through the precinct with confidence in her stride. She greeted every officer they passed with a quick nod, they answered her in kind, and, thankfully, most of them were too busy to pay attention to Levi. He would love if it stayed that way for the rest of their visit.
They took the stairs, crossed a couple of hallways, turned a few corners, and there they were - walking up to Hange's office. There were a lot more familiar faces there - Levi could see Nana— something, talking with two officers, and Mike, leaning against the coffee machine at the other side of the room.
Hange immediately changed their trajectory, heading to him.
"Mike!" she shouted, causing him to turn in their direction.
As they approached, Levi raised his hand in greeting. When they were close enough, Mike raised his hand too, but instead of a friendly salute, Levi received a dizzying, lip shuttering punch.
Woah, apparently he was not only a towering height, but a mountain of muscles as well, the force of that punch reverberated through his skin and almost sent Levi flying through the air to land right on his ass. Mike certainly wasn't going easy on him.
Comprehending what was going on around him became a vexing task after that hell of a punch, but Hange's loud, laced with anger voice still cut through the fog.
"Mike! What the fuck? Have you gone mad?"
Mike's answer was much quieter, Levi only barely managing to catch 'You're the one to talk..."
Whether Hange heard her tall friend or not, she gave no reaction to that line. Instead, her strong arms wrapped themselves around Levi's shoulders, making the ache in his jaw turn into a barely noticeable dull. She made him face her, her fingers gripping his chin. Despite the outrage swirling in her gaze, her touch was gentle, more like a caress.
"God, Han, he's alright, it was just a punch, I'm sure he had worse. And, he more than deserved it."
Hange looked up at Mike, long enough to give him a death glare and hiss, "Shut the fuck up now."
When her eyes were back on Levi, her voice softened considerably. "Hey, Levi, are you alright?"
He gave her a nod, tenderly clenching and unclenching his jaw. Seemed like... Mike was right. He did have it worse.
Besides... having Hange so close, seeing that worried look in her beautiful brown eyes was... extremely pleasant. Enough to make him want to remain in this position for a while longer, just to enjoy that blessed feeling for another moment.
"I told you everything was fine with him," Mike grumbled suddenly, startling Levi. With Hange in front of him, the rest of the world was left in blurs, even the man who assaulted him had faded to the background. "Now, leave the thief alone and hurry to Erwin. The big man is already in his office."
That got Hange's attention. "By the big man you mean..."
"Yep, it's Reiss. I’m sure I don't have to tell why making him wait is extremely unwise."
"Got it, got it," Hange pushed the hair back from her face, taking a step back, much to Levi's disappointment.
"Don't you worry, I'll take care of your buddy," Mike reached out to Levi, and the arms that Hange still had around him tightened. Levi felt an illogically massive amount of pleasure.
"Mike, don't you even think—"
"I won't hit him anymore. I swear," he added, when Hange just kept giving him a look full of skepticism. She left it on for another second, and then nodded, letting Levi go.
She marched off to the office without another word or even glance. Without her, Levi was suddenly too cold. And the jaw ache returned with vigor.
"Here," Mike thrusted a handkerchief in Levi's hands, pointing to his still bloodied chin. Levi accepted it with a grateful nod, wiping the blood with a disgruntled grimace.
"Now let's go, I won’t waste my smoke break babysitting you." Mike pushed him forward, back to where Levi and Hange had come from.
As he finally got a good look around the room, Levi noticed that they had an audience, quite big and intrigued one. They kept staring at him as Mike led him to the elevator. Thankfully, no one uttered a single word, or, god forbid, a question.
Levi would have breathed out in relief once the elevator doors closed, if his companion wasn't so... unnerving. Mike didn't say a word, didn't as much as glance in his direction while they rode the elevator. He was silent when they left the elevator. He was silent as they moved towards the exit. He was silent as they walked outside. He was silent when he lit up his cigarette, was silent when he offered another one to Levi. Mike was silent before he took his first drag and after he let the smoke out. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and only then he fixed his eyes on Levi.
Levi held his breath, the tips of fingers trembling in anticipation for what was to come. Hopefully, not another punch.
"I was with Han, you know? When she found that note of yours. When she realized who you actually were."
Oh... Then Mike's ire was more than justifiable. And Levi digressed – a punch would be probably a less painful option than having this conversation.
"Did she..."
"No. I've never seen Hange cry, but—" Mike put cigarette back to his lips, inhaling it slowly, as though calming himself down. Levi waited for his answer with a bated breath. "I've also never seen her look so lost. At first, she wasn't even angry or hurt, just confused. I couldn't bear to see that look on her face. So when today I saw you waltz in our precinct like that, with Hange by your side..." he trailed, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry." Levi said.
He really was. He didn't mean to, didn't wish to hurt Hange. That was never his intention. And yet, he still did hurt her. That mistake would weigh on his soul forever.
"I know you are," Mike replied, surprisingly easy. "I used to think you're a scumbag and that my nose has failed me…"
Shit, he was really serious about this whole nose thing?
"But it turns out you're not that bad. You did lie and broke Hange's heart," and for that, Levi already received a punch in the face. "However, Erwin told me what happened yesterday. You really called him and asked to take Hange home?" Mike chuckled. "Man, that took some balls."
...To put it lightly. The memories of his last clash with Erwin still elicited a shiver from him.
"I was actually worried he'd throw me in jail," Levi confessed. "I'm surprised he didn't."
"Oh, believe me, he was very tempted to." Mike revealed.
"Then why didn't he?"
Mike shrugged, shaking off the ash from his cigarette. "Because it wasn't his call, it was Hange's. Whatever that she sees in you, it is enough for our Han to trust you. And Erwin respects her enough to not get involved in that."
Oh. That was actually reassuring. Perhaps, now Levi could stop feeling like a naughty schoolboy in Erwin's presence.
"But if you make the mistake of hurting Hange again," and just like that, the reassurance was gone. "We will make sure that you regret it. Next time, I won't be pulling back my punches."
So that hit was Mike going easy on him? Fucking hell. Levi hoped he wouldn't anger that man again. His skull may not survive it.
As Mike grew silent once again, Levi finally remembered the cigarette he was still holding in between his fingers. It almost burned out, he hurried to take a drag before it went out completely.
He regretted his decision almost immediately. Mike had a fucking terrible taste in tobacco.
Discreetly, he put the cigarette out and threw it into a trashcan.
"What do you think they're even doing there?" Levi raised a finger in the general direction of where Hange, Erwin and Reiss were. "Reiss showing up, it's a big thing, isn't it?"
"The biggest one we had in a while. Have you seen that shit inside? The precinct isn't that lively even during daytime. The bigger commotion would have happened only if we got you Ackermans in handcuffs."
Luckily, that would never happen.
"And? Do you think something... useful might come out of his visit?"
"Don't know," Mike stared down at his cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. "To be honest, I thought that Hange's new case was just another dead end. But now guy as big as Reiss gets involved? I guess it's more complicated than I expected it to be."
Complicated? That was one way to put it. Levi was still baffled by the notion that Kenny was working with Frieda Reiss. Clearly, this case was much, much more complicated than they've anticipated. Clearly, he needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
As though hearing his thoughts, Mike put his cigarette out. "C'mon, let's get you back before Hange bites my head off."
"Doubt that four-eyes will care so much about me."
Mike raised an eyebrow, his face screaming bullshit. But he said nothing, only smiled enigmatically and patted his shoulder.
"Whatever makes it easier to sleep at night, man."
___
Inside of Erwin's office was brighter than Hange had ever remembered seeing. Usually he used only two sources of light - his battered desk lamp and computer screen. But today, the ceiling lights were on. Hange didn't know that he even had them.
What's more, for the first time in a while, the leather couch standing beside his desk was occupied - by Reiss and a woman Hange had never seen before. Although, Hange had never seen her, that didn't mean she didn't know her. The hair color, the face structure - it was almost identical. Eyes, however, were different. Historia had definitely inherited them from her father.
Compared to Reiss’ bright ones, Alma’s eyes seemed practically lifeless. Her expression was completely neutral, like she wasn’t entirely there, her thoughts a long distance away from Erwin’s office.
So that woman was the mysterious mother? Hange longed to hear what she had to say.
"Sorry for the wait," she flashed everyone in the room a smile and swiftly strolled inside, taking a seat across from Erwin.
"You're dressed very smartly this night, detective Zoe. I do hope I didn't interrupt your date."
The smile didn't slip of her lips, as Hange shifted, facing Reiss. "I appreciate the concern, but it is uncalled for. Nothing more important than my job."
"Your date must be very understanding. Is that the same fella I saw you with last time? I thought you'd broken it off."
Ah, so Reiss was keeping tabs on her? Lovely.
Luckily, Hange was keeping tabs on him as well. She shifted her gaze to Reiss’ companion.
"And can I ask you who is that, Mr Reiss? Is this your—"
"That's my secretary," Reiss' smile became just a fraction more strained. Hange internally cheered. "Alma."
The same name that was listed in Historia's birth certificate. That bit of doubt Hange still had, now vanished without a trace.
"She's got valuable information regarding your recent case. And since you and I are already acquitted, I decided to accompany her."
"How nice and generous of you," Hange told Reiss, before returning to his secretary. "It's nice to meet you, Alma," she put her hand out for a handshake. Alma accepted it, albeit weakly. And only after receiving a nod from Reiss. Interesting. And creepy. "Why have you come to see me?"
The question was directed on Alma. But Reiss was the one who answered it.
"Alma has something to share regarding the disappearance of her daughter."
"Oh?" Hange shared a look with Erwin. His bush eyebrows were up to his hairline. So he had no idea about it, huh? Well, wasn't it good to finally be one step ahead of him?
But for the moment, Hange had to feign shock as well.
She cast her eyes down, hands dropping to her lap. "I was under the impression that Krista was an orphan." Then, with a slight frown, she added, "Why didn't you report her missing then? We caught news of her disappearance almost a week later."
"I..."
Alma paled, her hands began to tremble. Hange's grin began to spread, she almost got them—
But then Reiss— damn him— interfered. He covered Alma's hands with his, holding them gently, like a caring father.
"Alma and Krista had just recently reconnected," he explained in a quiet, saddened voice.
"Yes," Alma confirmed. Seemed like Reiss' support has given her the needed strength - she sounded surer now. But her gaze kept its strange detachment. "Krista and I rarely talk. I had abandoned her at the orphanage when she was just a newborn, so there are obviously... some tensions between us."
Despite the emotional flavor of her story, Alma was anything but. She was talking about her missing daughter and the rocking relationship that bounded them, yet nothing of it was mirrored in her. Her voice didn't waver, no muscle twitched on her face. Alma looked bored, like she was talking about something more trivial than even weather. Damn it, even Ackerman would have done a better job at pretending.
Although, perhaps, Hange was judging his acting skills a little too harshly. Earlier that evening, his kiss was more than just convincing. Hange felt tingle in her lips at the mere thought.
The sound of Erwin clearing his throat brought her back to present, rather abruptly.
"That is a very tragic story, Miss... Alma, but what is the reason for your visit?"
"Oh right," she freed her hands from underneath Reiss' and grasped her purse, opening it. "I found this on my lawn."
After a moment of rummaging through the purse, Alma laid before Hange a phone that was wrapped in a cellophane bag. Huh, for a simple secretary she knew more than enough about preserving evidence. Not to mention that if Hange found the phone of her missing daughter lying on the lawn, preserving evidence would be the last thing on her mind. But, oh well, what wasn't suspicious about that woman?
Reaching out to Erwin, Hange silently asked him to pass the sterile gloves. Any other day she wouldn’t think twice about simply grabbing the piece of evidence, but if that's how they wanted to play, she would have to indulge them.
Once the latex was pulled onto her long fingers, Hange took the phone - eagerly, impatiently. It all might be just a ruse, and she'd be damned, but she was intrigued by it.
The phone wasn't in the best shape - a large crack ran through the screen, the sides of it were covered in bumps, and at the bottom of it— oh, just a speck, but it was undeniably blood.
Hange shivered at the thought about its origin.
Once unlocked, the phone destroyed the little doubts she had. It really belonged to Historia, the picture on the lock screen confirmed it. The photo showed Historia, who was smiling at the camera with all of her loveliness, and Ymir, who was facing away, her lips at Historia's cheek. Ah, so that's why she was so dead set on saving her? Interesting. And so romantic. Hange didn't expect such a thing from Ymir.
"You found it on your lawn, right?" Erwin asked, signaling Hange to pass him the phone. Once she did, he looked at it, with both skepticism and curiosity.
"Yes," Alma said. "I called Mr. Reiss as soon as I did."
"Alma hopes that the phone would shed some light on where Krista disappeared."
"Hm." Hange couldn't shake off the feeling that she was walking straight into a trap. Why did Reiss decided to finally act, and why today of all days? Was he aware that they got to one of his daughters, and now were close to finding another one? Did he even care? And what was the importance of the phone? It was some sort of distraction or diversion, Hange was sure of it. But for now, it would have to remain a mystery. As suspicious as Reiss' actions were, there was a more pressing matter now. They had to get to Kenny Ackerman, and get out of him everything he was willing to share. Hopefully, with Levi by her side, he'd be much more amenable.
"Thank you for your cooperation," getting out of off her stupor, Hange smiled and shook first Reiss', then Alma's hand. "If we find anything regarding Historia's whereabouts, we'll alert you immediately."
"Krista." Reiss spoke in a voice so low that Hange had to take a double take to confirm that yes, that scary tone was coming from the honest, kindhearted, absolutely innocent politician.
"What?"
"Krista, Alma's daughter is named Krista. And you were just talking about some Historia."
Some Historia, huh?
"My mistake," Hange chuckled, rubbing her neck. "It was a long day, sorry."
"Forgive that slight mishap. Detective Zoe works day and night to find your daughter." Erwin chimed in, calming everyone down with his soft, unassuming smile. Hange could barely keep her delightful giggle.
Your daughter, Erwin said, while looking Reiss in the eyes. So he already caught on? Hange wasn't surprised.
"Thank you for the visit and have a good night, Mr. Reiss, Miss Alma. My assistant will walk you to the door."
Reiss nodded, his eyes still darker than a night's sky. He helped Alma get to her feet and led her to the door, where Nifa, Erwin's assistant, was already waiting with a tired gaze and polite smile.
They left, without looking back even once. Alma didn't say goodbye to Hange, didn't grab her arm and beg to bring her daughter back home. God, that woman could have at least tried to do a more believable act.
Once the door was closed, and they were left alone, the amicable expression was gone from Erwin's face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed in a line, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I hope I don't have to tell you that you're walking on a thin ice, Hange. And that this endeavor of your—"
"I know."
"And working with that Ackerman—"
"I know." Hange repeated, firmer this time. She knew the dangers, knew about possible consequences. Last night, Erwin made sure to explain it to her in vivid details. "But this girl is in trouble, Erwin. I can't let it go before she's safe."
"Your heart was always your biggest weakness," the stoic mask on his face hardened, and then cracked, revealing a fond smile. "But it's also your biggest strength. Don't lose it."
Standing up, Hange hid Historia’s phone inside the pocket of her jacket, then flashed Erwin a cheeky grin. "Is that an order, Captain?"
"It absolutely is, detective. You may go now. Someone is very impatient."
Hange followed Erwin's gaze, turning to the door. Even through the closed door, Levi's silhouette was transparent. He was pacing back and forth, and Hange could bet that he was scowling. She confirmed that guess as soon as she left Erwin's office.
"What the fuck had taken you so long? C'mon, four-eyes, we have to hurry."
Right, Kenny Ackerman was waiting for them. Kenny Ackerman who most definitely had the answers, who probably knew where Historia was. Hange couldn't allow another second go to waste.
She quickly skipped to where Levi was standing, prompting him to start moving.
"Let's go then! The solution awaits!"
___
"Wait!" Hange stopped them as soon as they were out of the precinct. "We need to call Ymir."
Levi groaned. Why, oh why, would she want to call that impossible brat?
"We wouldn't have found your uncle if it wasn't for her help. The only thing she asked in return is to find Historia. We owe her that much."
Perhaps, that was true, but Hange hadn't considered one very important factor - Levi really, really didn't want to face Ymir again. The last embarrassment was still too fresh in his mind.
"We haven't found Historia yet," he tried to argue.
"But we're as close as ever," Hange chirpily replied, overthrowing his whole reasoning with just one hopeful sentence.
Well, his battle was doomed before it had even begun. Levi lamented this loss with a sigh. "You're too kind, four-eyes."
"And you're too cranky," she retaliated, following that devastating blow with a mighty clasp to his back. "Call taxi for us while I talk with Ymir, okay? You know where to go, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded, sobering a little. Amidst his banter with Hange, he had completely forgotten that right, he was going to visit his childhood home, the same house where he had found the breathless body of his mother at the ripe age of nine. The feelings this trip was awakening in him were still unclear.
"And where exactly are we going?" whether his face, voice or general stiffness betrayed him or Hange was just that attuned to his emotions, but worry took residence in her gaze. She froze with phone raised to her ear, waiting for his answer.
"It's at the edge of the city."
"Near the docks? Some kind of abandoned warehouse?"
"Um." Something pointy stuck in his throat, making it hard to speak. However, Hange's gaze didn't waver, as she continued to expect a continuation from him. Swallowing his discomfort, Levi muttered, "We're going to my childhood home."
"Oh." The hand holding the phone lowered. Hange took a step in his direction. For one terrifying second Levi thought she was going to hug him. But, apparently, she decided to spare him from further embarrassment and concluded that gripping his shoulders tightly was enough. She stared straight at him, and in the darkness her eyes shone with sincerity. "If you want - or need - to talk about this, I'm ready to listen. If you—"
Fucking hell, compared to Hange, every other human seemed like an utter piece of shit.
"It's fine, four-eyes. It's just the house where I found my dead mom."
Saying that was obviously a mistake. Hange gasped, her eyes widening. Her hands on his shoulders tightening. "Levi, that's—"
"Yeah, one hell of a traumatic experience, especially for a brat who barely turned nine."
Another wrong line. Now Hange looked close to tears. Levi didn't know what urge was stronger - to wrap himself around Hange and ask her to never let go, or tear his hair out.
"Listen, I've dealt with it a long time ago," he didn't, hadn't even tried, but today and right now was very obviously the wrong time to go soul-searching and uncover what consequences his mother's death had on his psyche. "Don't worry about it."
"I can't help it, but if you insist..."
With that lost expression on her face, Hange looked so damn adorable, Levi was pissed off at himself for being so unwilling to look away. Thankfully, she saved him from this heavy duty by being the first one to turn around, the phone back to her ear. Levi turned away as well, escaping temptation. His finger was just hovering over the order button, when it dawned at him.
"Wait!" he pulled Hange back to him. "Did you just call me Levi?"
It wasn't the first time this evening as well, but all the previous occasions had him too occupied with something else to notice that slight change.
"Where did the damned Ackerman go?"
"Um." If he hadn't spent the previous two days learning just how bold and forward Hange was, he'd say that right now, she looked ashamed. The red in her cheeks certainly spoke in favor of that theory. "I'll be dealing with two Ackermans from now on, right? So to avoid any confusion..."
That was a very logical, reasonable explanation. So why Levi wanted it to be something more— personal?
"The taxi will be here in five," he said, distancing himself from these pointless, foolish thoughts.
"Ymir said she'll be waiting there for us," Hange nodded readily. "Shall we go?"
And so they went.
___
By the time Levi and Hange walked out of the taxi, Ymir was already waiting for them. She was standing near the sidewalk, leaning against a shiny black motorcycle.
Levi rolled his eyes at the sight of it. Of course, Ymir rode a motorcycle. As though she wasn't already a personification of every possible lesbian cliché.
"Oh what a baby!" squealing, Hange ran up to the motorcycle, looking it over with eyes burning from excitement. "I'm sure Historia would love to take a ride on this beast!"
"What can I say?" Ymir huffed, puffing her chest. The smirk on her face was absolutely horrendous. Even Kenny couldn't quite recreate a look of that much self-confidence. "Chicks dig bikes."
"That they certainly do."
Aha, so Hange liked motorcycles. Levi made a mental note about that.
He then left behind Hange's shrilling coos and Ymir's bratty replies, taking a step closer to the house he had grown up in.
It was dark now and seemingly empty, but years ago it was always filled with light. It was filled with life - his mom's cheerful laughter, his uncle's merry jokes, Levi's own insistent, curious questions about everything he encountered. It was filled with love— but now, it was just a house - old and cold.
Although, other than that, it looked exactly like Levi had remembered. A light green house in the suburbs, with a garden, little white fence and even playground, all of it was a gift from Uri Reiss, the only real friend his uncle had.
Oh, how his mother loved that house. How she enjoyed tending to the garden, how she laughed when she watched Levi play on a swing. They were happy in this house, the happiest Levi had ever been.
Standing before it now, after so many years, felt strange. Noticing all the little signs that someone had been looking after the house ­- the lawn was moved, the trash sorted and neatly packed, even the lane was swept - was even stranger. And he used to think that Kenny had sold the house long time ago. Evidently, the old bastard was more sentimental that he let on.
"Hey," a gentle voice was in his ear, strong hands on his shoulders. "Do you need a moment or—"
He was grateful for Hange's concern. But that concern - as sweet as it was - was misplaced. They didn't have time for it.
"I'm fine," he assured, lamenting that he was too prideful to take Hange by the hand. Not that he needed it, but— it certainly would make him feel better. "Let's get moving."
They did, all three of them in perfect unison, and be it her detective's sense or simple intuition, or, perhaps, Hange really could read him as easily as a book, but she took her hand in his, squeezing his palm reassuringly. It certainly worked, her touch was like a magic that chased away the tense feeling in his muscles. Now, Levi could almost breathe freely.
When they reached the door, Hange lifted her free hand, probably with intent to knock. What a dork, Levi thought fondly. Pushing her aside, he kicked the door open with one mighty hit of his leg.
"Levi!" Hange yelled in shock. "You can't just—"
"My house, remember?"
Without another word, Levi passed the threshold, Hange and Ymir trailing after him.
Even engulfed in darkness, the inside of the house looked just like he remembered - soft, crème carpet under their feet, fern that had grown so much bigger standing near the door, a photo of—
Oh. Levi averted his eyes with lightning speed. The last thing he wanted to do was to start crying. Especially with Ymir present.
The house seemed emptier with each step they took. Doubt started to arise within Levi, and along with it - his anger. If that son of a bitch lied to him—
But then he heard it. Just at the edge of his hearing, but that sound was as familiar as it was unmistakable. The sound of Kenny playing with his lighter.
He hurried in the direction of that sound, it led him to the living room. The room was dark, the only source of light was the old TV-screen that did a very poor job of illuminating the rest of the room. Levi could barely see the outlines of the couch, but the figure lying on it— oh, Levi knew it so well.
The sight of Kenny with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other was all too familiar. And just as infuriating. Still holding onto Hange, Levi marched to his uncle with the full intent of kicking his insolent ass.
Kenny shot to his feet moments before they reached him.
"Levi!" he spread his arms in a greeting gesture. Levi's scowl darkened. "You brought friends!"
"Kenny—"
"And before you or your detective—" Kenny swept his eyes all over Hange, his grin growing, "friend punch me, let me show you something."
"Something?" it came from Hange, who sounded simultaneously intrigued, cautious and fucking furious.
"Someone," Kenny corrected with an enigmatic wink. Before Levi or Hange could force him to explain, he shouted, his voice carrying over the entire house, "Girl! Come here, you have guests!"
There was a beat of silence, then, they heard a sound of hurried footsteps that came from the upper floor. Levi held his breath. Hange did too, and, holding her hand, he could feel her pulse beating strongly.
At last, the door to the living room opened.
"What the hell do you want from me again?"
Levi's jaw dropped. Dressed in lilac top and shorts, with her hair up in a messy ponytail she looked a bit different from the perfect girl from the photos, but truth was impossible to deny.
Before them— in the flesh, stood Historia Reiss.
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fweasleyswhore · 4 years
Note
If you are taking requests for the kinkmas list, can I pretty please get, dry humping & humiliation kink for george 🥺 thank you! If not it’s completely fine, no worries!
Kinkmas Day 1:
Humiliation and Dry Humping
George Weasley - Get Off
a/n: I have already told you but this is so hot and it was really fun to write, thank you for this request <3 I know its a few days late but ofc right after I got excited for kinkmas I got my period and its hard to write when I cant stop crying and hurt hella bad lmao - all good now tho
pairing: george weasley x gender neutral reader (mentions reader wearing a skirt, no pronouns)
word count: 1.4k 
warnings: smut, humiliation/degradation, dry humping, p short my b
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Fuck. It had been all day. An entire day of purposeful brushes, small touches, dirty words, and then, nothing. Strutting through the halls of the castle I couldn’t deny the burn that spread through my entire body. All-day, all damn day, George had been teasing me. And now I could not find him. 
The only thing stopping me from heading to my dorm and fixing the problem myself were his words. 
“Hold out for me sweetheart, tonight I want to show you the stars.” The words echoed through my head again making a shiver run down my spine. The words he whispered to me during herbology followed by a light smack on my ass fueled the fire I now felt all over. I had scoured the entire castle after dinner, starting in his dorm and then everywhere else. I even checked the library but to no avail. I decided I would try the last few places before I completely gave up. It was by no doubt after curfew by now, and I didn’t mind disobeying George if I literally couldn’t find him. 
Trudging up the stairs to the astronomy tower I played with the hem of my skirt. If I focus hard enough I could almost feel George’s hands raking up my thighs, a feeling that I craved so badly right now. 
Making it to the top of the tower I gingerly pushed open the door, a soft plush mattress sat on the floor, covered with an immense amount of blankets and the soft glow from a few floating candles surrounding the area. I felt my breath hitch as my eyes trailed to the lanky ginger boy laying on the bed. 
“What is this?” I asked softly. His head popped up at the sound. His eyes were dark but his face adorned a giddy smile that made me weak knowing I was the cause. 
“Well, I did say I wanted to show you the stars now didn’t I?” He said in a cocky voice, his head cocked on the side. 
I felt my cheeks heat up as guilt panged my stomach. “Oh Merlin, I’m an idiot aren’t I?”
“Maybe, but you’re my idiot.” He said plainly. I couldn’t help but smile at the boy, laying down slightly, propped up on his elbows, legs spread. His school sweater was nowhere in sight, and his tie laid untied around his shoulders. He looked delicious, and I needed him. 
“I wasn’t aware I belonged to you,” I said lightly, sauntering over to him I watched the way his smile fell and had to hide my own smile as I plopped down next to him on the bed. 
“After everything I did to you today you still want to be a brat?” He asked pulling himself up and looking at me like a predator would his prey. 
“I have no idea as to what you are talking about.” I lied cooly. I was thankful for the dark lighting hiding what I assume to be a dark blush coating my features. 
He sighed and pulled his tie off of his shoulders. His hands rung the fabric, tightening around it for a moment so his veins popped out ever so slightly. The sight made my desire deepen and I rubbed my thighs together, feeling my wetness begin to pool as the day’s events caught up to me. 
“What you are doing says differently sweetheart,” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, opting to continue to play with his tie. “What you are doing is telling me that you’re a misbehaving whore who needs to be put in their place.” He finally looked at me. The tie in his hands now was pulled into an intricate knot that had two loops similar to handcuffs. 
“I watched you today, I watched you rub your thighs together in potions like you wanted me to bend you over right there.” His words had my mouth dry and my pussy drenched. I had no words or cheeky comeback as he watched me with dark hungry eyes. Every word sending me closer to the edge. “I watched how after every interaction we had you grew more desperate, you may say you don’t belong to me but your body sure does, and by the end of the night your mind will too.” 
I opened my mouth to shout something back but before I could his lips met mine in a wet sloppy kiss. His hands soon found my waist and hoisted me up onto his lap, straddling him. From the new angle, our kisses grew more heated and synced. His hands trailed down my waist to my hips, he pushed me down rutting his hips into mine. I felt his clothed bulge grind straight into my core and I didn’t hold back the moan that erupted from my chest. He took that moment to stick his tongue in my mouth, I didn’t bother fighting him with my own, I continued to grind into him sucking on his tongue. He squeezed my hips and pushed up again in sync with my own rhythm I had set that felt amazing. I pulled back letting out a high-pitched whine. 
“Look at you saying you’re not mine but falling apart before I have even properly touched you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were soaking, no one else can do this to you, you’re my whore.” I simply nodded at his words. Too caught up in the pleasure he was giving me to formulate a proper response. “Do you think I could get you off on my thigh? Do you think you could get off by humping my thigh like a worked up whore?” I buried my head in his neck, continuing to rut my hips into him as he spoke I felt my orgasm quickly approaching, and the thought of having to stop to situate myself on his thigh seemed counterproductive. 
“N-No.” I barely whispered. “Don’t need to.” His hand trailed up my side and behind my head, until he grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling harsh enough to pull my head back but not enough to hurt me. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes. The devilish smile plastered on his face told me he was enjoying me falling apart on his lap. 
“Gonna cum from this?” He asked pushing his hips into mine with force. I whined, nodding as much as I could with his hand in my hair. 
“Yes, god yes,” I said hastily. The knot in my stomach was fraying at the ends, beginning to fall apart or snap any second. “Please Georgie, need to cum, need to cum now,” I begged. 
I watched as his smile fell into a more serious expression, the hand on my hip grew a tighter grip as he spoke. “Say it, slut. So eager for me, about to cum without me touching you, admit it. You’re mine.” His voice was a few octaves deeper than normal and slightly hoarse. His words pushed only further at the knot in my stomach which was moments away from unraveling. 
“I’m yours, all yours Georgie. Please let me cum, please let your whore cum for you.” I begged, rutting my hips harder. I screwed my eyes shut, willing my every fiber to wait for his permission. 
“Cum for me.” I fell apart in his lap. Panting out broken ‘thank you’s, and blinking away tears. He released my hair and my head fell forward onto his chest, I slowed down my hips and soon enough my breath followed suit. 
“Yknow, I was joking when I said that I didn’t belong to you,” I said breathlessly. I felt his chest rumble against my forehead as he laughed, one hand running up and down my back soothingly. 
“I know, I just wanted you to know you couldn’t get away with that.” He whispered in my ear. I picked my head up gingerly, looking into his lust-filled eyes. 
“Can you do something for me?” I asked quietly, trailing a hand up his chest. He hummed in response causing me to let the smile I was trying to hide slip onto my lips. “Prove to me your mine.”
“Oh, you are in for it now.” I couldn’t hold back the giggle that left my lips as he pushed me down onto my back, towering over me. 
Tonight would be a long night.
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stay-midnight · 4 years
Text
Foolish - The supposed valentine special
Lee Felix x Male Reader
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Word Count: 2.7K Words
a/n: aaaaaaaa, the delay for this is too long 😖 i changed the concept of it from a valentines date to an anniversary date instead, hopefully it’s okay hhshs. I cannot it was supposed to be soft but somehow i made the smut escalate in the end. Tbh, I was expecting balcony sex—
Triggers: Explicit Smut, Fluffy as fuck I guess—, It’s soft.
Kinks/Warnings: Soft Dom Felix, Sub Male Reader, Anal Sex, Safe Sex, Licking, Teasing, Nipple Play, Nipple Biting, A lot of foreplay, Multiple Positions, Mentions of Fisting, Make-Out Sessions, A lot of Praise, Consensual.
Felix’s hands were getting sweaty and how fast he was tapping his thigh, he was getting nervous by the minute as the clock’s hands were moving closer to 8 PM — the time of your arrival. He licked his dry lips every half a minute as his head kept turning towards the door as if it was about to swing open. He brushed his blond hair back, taking a shallow breath.
You see, Felix prepared for one week for this, too make it as special as possible for your anniversary day.
1 year.
He loved, cherished, kissed you a bunch of times, and did a lot more with you in that one year of you and him being together.
Felix would do a lot more in even more years to come. In the future, he’ll propose to you, maybe even adopt children if you ever want. He just want to spend time with you, staring at you lovingly like a fool in love.
In the present now, though. He wants to enjoy this anniversary with you. He got his friends to decorate your shared apartment — the walls are decorated with colored paper and the pictures you collected throughout the years.
Frame by frame, all of them are important to you and him — Holding special memories that can’t be replaced or forgotten.
Felix felt his breath hitch as the door handle started turning. A profound mixture of excitement and nervousness built up in the pit of his stomach.
. . .
You were humming happily as you walked up the stairs of your apartment, the medium-sizedbag dangling from your fingers. You were frantic to spend time with Felix.
Today was your one year anniversary and thus you want to relieve all stress piled up from work and just spend quality time with your man.
Face-to-face with your apartment door, you turned the knob and found it wasn’t locked which made you raise your eyebrow in confusion. You turned the knob and swung it open.
Then petals of red roses fell in the front of your vision as a clear romantic music started playing. “Lixie?” you murmur, still a bit dizzy from the suprise.
After taking a moment to regain your thoughts, you noticed the picture littered across the walls of your apartment it was you and Felix.
Then finally, in all his beauty, Felix standed in the middle with the most warmest and cutest smile that seems to always set your world alight.
You suddenly felt some wetness at your cheeks and your vision suddenly becoming blurred due to the stream of tears just freely flowing down.
Felix saw the way you were crying and walked over to hug you, “Happy Anniversary, babe.” you snuggled your wet face into neck wetting his part of the shirt there.
“F— Fe, hng.... L-Lix. Th— Thankss.. for this..” you hiccuped as he pulled you away from his neck, then kiss the beads of tears falling from your eyes away.
“Shh, don’t cry, Y/N” He comforted, gently combing your hair. You smiled and clung to him like a koala as you felt every feeling of stress leaving your body.
You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him and he kissed back immediately, savouring the taste of your lips with passion.
Both of you perfectly molded with each other he finally slipped his tongue in your mouth, exploring your warm cavern.
Then he pulled away which made you whine, “Let’s continue that later~ but for now, let’s celebrate and eat.” he winked at his first statement then pointed at the table which had alot of food.
“Can we finish that much?” you said looking at the overloaded table.
He grinned, “We’ll give it to Changbin and the others as thankd for helping me decorate.”
You pouted and looked at the bag you had, “I only got you some strawberry cake for our anniversary...” you said, frowning.
“I’ll make it up to you...” you mumble wiping your tears away with your wrist, taking a sit down at the table then Felix sat next to you.
“You don’t have too... It still means alot to me that you’re here now.” he smiled sheepishly while you look away shyly.
“Still my gift is inferior than your suprise...”
“Any gift you give is in a high regard. Eat Y/N~ before I eat you~” he joked but there was a slight bit of truth in that. You hit his chest but he could tell how flustered you were.
“Cute....” he praised which in turn cause you to glare at him playfully as he gave you that a grin.
. . .
He reached out for your hand after eating to dance at the sound of the melodic, sweet music playing in the backround.
You look at him with love as both of you swayed along to the tune, Felix even spun you around like how people do during ballroom dances causing you to laugh as he catched you before spinning you back around to his caring embrace.
“I love you so much, Y/N...” he whispered against your ear.
You shivered at the sensation of his hot breath when he spoke, “I love you too, so so much....” you said back, turning your head to meet his caring gaze and his smile. He leaned towards you, connecting your lips as the music creased. You felt literal sparks flying across your body because of that.
You yawn as you pulled away from him, even though this was fun — You did just came back from work so you were tired and Felix now just noticed that.
He smiled before grabbing your hands and dragging you to your shared bedroom.
. . .
He pulled you on the king-sized bed which made you smile goofily as you laid there. You were still on your work clothes but nothing can be more comforting than being near with your loved one.
You liked skinship as much as he do, that’s probably why you fit together so much.
You rarely fought as well, most of it being teasing or playful fighting. Now that you remember, the only time he got mad when you didn't tell him that you were coming home late. He was angry, you were extremely tired. Instead of reasoning with him at that time, you fought fire with fire.
You always see him around the apartment since his work is a comic designer so he’s working at home, he barely leaves unless for jogging or grocery purposes.
You were snapped out of your thoughts as Felix played with your hair. Combing and stroking it. You leaned in to his soft touch, sighing at the calming sensation.
You leaned your head back so you could look up at him and he was showing a cute smile which made you smile back at him as well.
You initiated a kiss suddenly, suprising him. He kissed back before pulling away then leaned back down again as if he couldn’t get enough of your lips.
. . .
It started with small pecks at each other, now turning into a deep make out session with him. As you felt your neck was about to break off any second now due to the uncomfortable position you were kissing him in — You flipped him over and straddled him before leaning back in, biting his bottom lip teasingly as his hands worked their way onto your buttocks, kneading it teasingly.
He groaned at the lip bite before he grabbed your waist and switched positions, with Felix on top of you — staring down at you with a mixture of lust and adoration.
“You’re so pretty and handsome...” he praised, raising your shirt slightly before leaning down and planting kisses down your tummy, slowling pushing it up while also trailing his lips upward to your chest — leaving a line of saliva.
You giggled silently at his praise before gasping at his warm lips making contact with your skin, a tingling and wet sensation was apparent on your torso as Felix was tasting you up.
He removed your shirt completely and slipped his hand down to wrap around your waist. He lifted you slightly before attaching his lips on your nipples, licking and sucking on it.
You sighed as you let your own body be taken over by pleasure, Felix hummed before moving to the other nipple, this time though — he clamped his teeth down on it causing you let out a moan at the numbing pain.
When he pulled away he was content to see your chest, wet from his saliva, and your nipples — hardened and puffy.
He looked down at you, lovingly with a hint of need and lust, you stare back at him with half-lidded eyes because of the pleasure he gives.
“You look so unreal...” You whisper with a smile, the sight of Felix’s face, basking in the moonlight shining from the window at your side, you brought up your hands and caressed his cheek, “What have I done to deserve you...” you added in a soft tone.
He smiles at your compliments, “You don’t have to do anything, because even I don’t deserve someone as loving and caring as you...” he whispered, grabbing your hand on his cheek and kissing the top of it.
You pull him down by the neck, kissing him in the lips, moving with such passion as he sneaked his tongue between your lips — tasting every corner and crevice inside your warm and wet cavern.
His other hand is trailing down to your pants unbuckling your belt skillfully with one hand, pulling it down ever so slowly.
You were being patient with his teasing but at some point your patience were wearing thin, cracks started to form on your small facade as you thrusted your hips up, hitting the bulge in his pants.
He grinned in satisfaction as finally he slowly unraveled you. He removed his shirt, making you stare at his sculptured body, drool forming at the sides of your mouth
Finally, he pulled your boxers down, making you hiss at the feeling of cold air hitting your erect dick. He hummed, giving it a few small strokes to get you more riled up.
“Lix, Lix... Please.. I want— No, I need you inside me already.....” you said with desire, letting out a shaky breath as he pulled his hand away.
“Well of course, what my love wants, he gets~” he said, reaching over the nightstand drawer to grab the blueberry-scented lube and condoms.
He undressed himself, removing his shorts and boxers — throwing it somewhere in the dim room.
You glimpsed at his hard cock with a pretty pink tip, you still wondered how he manage to fit that inside you, you looked away in embarrassment at your own circling thoughts.
He chuckled lowly at that, “You can look, Y/N... I already ruined you so many times with it so what’s the point of looking away, hm?” he teasingly spoke with a husky voice.
You look at him and poked your tongue out at him playfully, causing him to snicker before squirting some lube into his fingers and lifting your legs a bit for easier access to hole.
Felix then finally slowly inserted lubricated finger, watching in awe as your hole clenched around his finger, You let out a shaky sigh, Felix’s fingers weren’t exactly big, but it still feels good. One time, he even fitted his whole fist inside you due to how tiny his hand is.
He added another two fingers, knowing that you can take his short fingers plus, he also has a need to be inside you, to be connected to you.
He pulled his fingers out, then smiled at you breathing heavily at how much he played with your fluttering hole.
Felix placed on a ultra-thin condom after biting the packet open, aligning the tip of his cock against your rim — applying a small pressure but not inserting it just yet.
You let out an impatient whine as your hole tried to suck his dick in, pathetically clenching around the tip. “Please, please Lix~ No more teasing...” you babbled, trying to sink your hips down but failing as he grabbed it with a bruising grip.
He slowly then inserted it inside you with a chuckle, watching as your face relax and your mouth forming an “O” shape. Once he saw your face relax, he thrust up into the hilt, hitting your prostate dead-on — His hips flushed against your ass.
“Ah!” you gasp out, your own neglected cock felt like bursting any moment now on how full you were. You relax yourself for Felix to move more easier.
He then started pulling out, groaning lowly before thrusting back in, “So good, so good...” you breathed out, loving the way his cock drag against your wall everytime he thrusts in.
He started a medium pace, lewd and wet sounds surrounds the room, you close your eyes and wrap your hands around the top's neck.
“You feel so good, Y/N...” he said, breathing heavily as he pursued a faster pace, the sound of skin against skin was audibly clear now — the way his hips smack against your ass was driving you crazy.
He pulls out for a bit and you let out a sound of disappointment before he asked you to flip over and you followed his command, going on all fours.
Felix shoves his cock right back in, you moaning loudly. He hits your prostate multiple times before using his other hand to slide his hand to your chest, pinching the hard bud of your nipple hard, he laughs shakily as you screamed at that.
You felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as his hand roamed your inner thighs, flicking your tip teasingly before finally wrapping his hand around your hard cock, jerking it off messily and out of pace.
You didn’t know anymore, you rocked your hips back and forth — you didn’t know if you wanted to meet his hard and precise thrusts or or to buck against his hand wrapped around your base, you let out wordless whines and unidentified babbles that Felix wanted to coo at.
Felix saw that your knees were quivering, so he decided to change positions again, this time you were speared on his cock as if it was your throne, your back flushed against his sweaty chest.
This was one of your favourite positions as Felix held you close to him, increasing the feeling of sweet intimacy between the both of you as he impaled you up and down his cock.
You moaned as he hit your abused and swollen prostate for the umpteenth time, before you turned your head to meet his, sharing a hungry but a much needed kiss.
Drool dripped down your chin as your aching cock uselessly bobbed up and down in time with his thrusts, you felt lightheaded as you didn’t even realize you came, spilling on your sheets as it dripped down from the tip — your mouth releasing a drawn-out weak moan.
Felix’s thrusts turned sloppily as he saw your red tip spurt out white ropes and the sporadic clenching, he was close too.. After a few more minutes of thrusting into you and overstimulating you, he came inside the condom in a deep groan.
Felix only held you tighter against him, both of your chests heaving up and down at the tiredness. Slowly, he started pulling out of you before laying down on the bed slowly as you seemed too out of it.
He threw the used condom at the small trashbin after tying it at the side of your bed. He went to the bathroom to get some towels momentarily to clean you up.
He also got a small sheet of fabric to cover the cum-stained bed cover.
Once he saw your eyes turned more normal than the dilation it had earlier, he smiled “Good?” he asked in a heart-warming gaze.
You nodded, “Very good...” you smiled as he wiped your lubed rim and around it carefully.
“I really love you...” you said with a giggle at the end.
“I love me too~” he teased.
“Felix~!” you whined, crossing your arms around your chest.
He chuckled before going closer to you and connecting your lips, “I love you..” he mumbles sweetly against your ear.
You hummed in great appreciation, reeling him down to cuddle in his bare chest — to which he complied, combing your hair.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N.” Felix breathed out, smiling as you fell in a tired sleep.
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m19writes4mlb · 3 years
Text
Defenceless - Chapter 2
Summary: Marinette gets trapped inside her own head. A stray cat notices and does something about it.
Chapter: 2/?
Word Count: 4303
Rating: T
Vulnerability was not something she allowed herself often. As Ladybug, Marinette felt as though she owed it to Paris to be strong. She knew she couldn’t indulge in sadness or anger like her fellow Parisians could. The second she accepted the Ladybug Miraculous, she made a commitment to put Paris and its citizens above everything. She was the city’s heroine first and foremost. Ladybug needed to be calm and collected at all times. She needed to keep everything under control, for millions of people were counting on her. She had to be a pillar of hope and strength for her city, for she knew that were she not around, Shadow Moth would’ve won already.
Behind the mask and underneath her superpowers, still lies a teenage girl however. She was still growing up and learning, a teen who had yet to experience so much. People her age should be making mistakes and learning from them, hanging out with friends and gossiping about ongoing drama at school, experimenting with relationships, and discovering themselves. Then again, she had responsibilities bigger than those of most adults she knew, and she couldn’t allow herself a single misstep.
Marinette had tried. She had tried so hard to lead a normal life. Nevertheless, all of those attempts backfired.
She had to balance being Ladybug with her responsibilities as guardian, school, her design commissions, her online shop, babysitting, helping her parents out in the bakery, and her duties as class representative whilst still having a semblance of a social life. One of those was bound to be unintentionally neglected, it turned out that in this case, the blow was taken by her social life. Whenever Marinette attempted to hang out with someone, be it her friends or her boyfriend Luka - ex-boyfriend she melancholy reminded herself -, an Akuma decided to attack and she had to cut whatever they were doing short. This put a strain on her relationships with those around her, and it led to all of them gradually deteriorating. She saw it happening right before her, yet there was nothing she could do about it.
Marinette could tell those around her were getting more and more frantic with the need of an explanation. She kept standing people up, disappearing in the middle of whatever they were doing, and running so late to planned events that they were basically over by the time she got there.
Luka, sweet, too-good-for-her Luka, was trying his best to be understanding. He was doing everything in his power to be the best partner for the girl he deemed as pure as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. Marinette, however, felt as far from that as one ever possibly could with the weight of the secrets she guarded. She knew Luka was close to reaching his breaking point. He was getting more and more restless and asking more and more questions whenever Marinette disappeared or became a no-show to their dates. He once told her that she could tell him as much or as little as she wanted and he was giving it his all by sticking to his words, never turning to anger or demanding for something she didn't give willingly. Still, Marinette was witness to how much her none-answers were hurting him.
Marinette could see the storm of hurt and doubt that was beginning to brew on his ocean eyes. She had the best seat in the house for the unravelling of Luka Couffaine and she hated that she was the one who directed it. Marinette knew she had to end it all before she could do any more damage to him. Before there was nothing left of the one amazing boy who managed to make himself at home in her heart regardless of the fact that it had already been occupied.
They had only been together for around six months, but Marinette had grown to care deeply about Luka, she even dares say she might love him. He was her refuge when things got too overwhelming. Luka was always ready with willing, open arms to help hold her together when she was close to falling apart. He had seen her utterly and completely broken, and got her through her despair as a civilian. He owned a piece of her heart, just not the whole of it, which is another reason as to why Marinette felt so dirty for putting him through everything she had done so.
Marinette knew one can only put up with so much, and she was aware Luka was close to snapping. She stood him up or disappeared for long periods of time mid-date more and more often. Her lackluster excuses were not cutting it anymore, and even if he never pressed for more, she knew it was taking a toll on him not to do so. The only way to fix everything as far as she could see was by telling the truth, and that was the one thing she couldn't ever do, no matter how tempting the prospect was.
Earlier today, her disappearing act had finally grown old, and the ever-brewing storm behind Luka's eyes had ultimately turned into a full-blown hurricane. He begged her for answers. He told her that he needed that sincerity he first saw on her back. Luka asked for it with such desperation and despair that he became the perfect prey for Paris's local supervillain.
Fighting Vérité and Pharo turned out to be one of the most exhausting and painful Akuma fights of her career. Vérité’s power wasn't the most destructive or difficult to fight. Yes, forcing people to dispel their biggest secrets was a dangerous threat for those who needed to hide their identities, but what made Vérité such a formidable opponent was the fact that he was Luka Couffaine, co-owner of Marinette's, aka Ladybug's, heart. She knew she had caused her lover enough anguish for a black butterfly to hunt him down. She knew that any damage that resulted from this was on her, and that it was she, and she alone, who had driven this beautiful soul to such a state.
She knew her boyfriend deserved better. Thus, when Vérité became Luka again, she finally did what she had been too afraid - maybe even too selfish - to do before in spite of all the signs she had seen. Marinette had ended things with Luka.
He took it in stride, hugging her close and promising to be there for her when she was ready. Despite everything, he still wanted to be there for her, regardless of everything she put him through, Luka still cared, and she really did not feel worthy of such unconditional love from him.
After walking away from the bridge where the fate of her first relationship was decided, she got home. She showered, put on her comfiest pjs, and climbed to her balcony. She observed the streets of Paris, the city she had sworn to protect just a bit over a year and a half ago. Would she have made such a commitment if she had known the sacrifices she'd have to make to keep it?
When push comes to shove, not only has her relationship with Luka taken a blow. She can't even remember the last time she had a proper hangout with her girls. So many around her wanted to help, to understand what had dimmed the fire inside the always-warm and positive Marinette. Nevertheless, Marinette could not let them in. Not a soul was allowed to know that she carried the weight of the safety of Paris and the Miracle Box on her shoulders. She was to carry this burden on her own, for anyone who was to know not only would become a target, but also a liability.
Her vision became blurry as the weight of all her responsibilities and today's events finally crashed down on her. Her knees buckled as a sob wracked her body. She curled into herself, bringing her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her hands. It wasn’t fair.
She gave this city her everything. If one never stops giving, they’re bound to exhaust themselves at some point. She knew she was almost there, but she didn’t want to give up. Her city, her people, her minou all needed her. She had to stand tall and strong, for everyone’s sake.
Even so, just for now, Marinette allowed herself a break down. She permitted herself just for a small while to open the chest, buried deep, within herself and spill its contents. She let her pain run free. She was tired, so tired. She felt like she had bitten more than she could chew. Never before had Marinette felt this overwhelmed. Not even when Lila had managed to get her expelled had she felt so hopeless, so alone.
“CATACLYSM!”, Chat Noir’s scream brought her out of her spiral of misery.
Marinette lifted her face to see Chat’s closed fist right beside her head.
Her eyes bulged and her hands went for her mouth as she processed what had just occurred. She almost got herself akumatized. That’s how much of a failure she was. If her Chaton hadn’t been here, what would’ve happened? She was probably the worst guardian ever!
She wanted to stop crying. She didn’t want Chat to see her like that. Still, her eyes weren’t cooperating. If anything, more and more tears kept coming, and she didn’t know what to do.
“Marinette? Please tell me what’s wrong, Princesse?”, Chat said as he crouched in front of her. He put a hand on her shoulder whilst he used the other to wipe her tears. Marinette’s lip trembled as Chat gazed earnestly at her.
“I-I just can’t do this anymore, Chat. It’s all just too much and I-I just don’t know what to do.”, Marinette cried out. She hadn’t really meant to say anything. If her head were clearer, she probably would’ve tried to pass off her breakdown as something trivial, an easily fixed thing that she was overreacting to. Yet her guard was down. The chest that held her secrets was opened, and she simply did not have the energy to bury everything again.
Chat pulled her in. He asked no more questions nor pressed her to elaborate. He just held her close and rubbed soothing circles onto her back as he rested his chin atop her head. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, Marinette holding onto him like a lifeline. He offered her shelter from the world, and she was determined to make the most of it. Slowly, her sobs subsided into whimpers and later on disappeared altogether.
Chat’s ring beeped, but he didn’t try to pull away; actually, he held on tighter. Marinette looked up. Chat had his eyes screwed shut whilst he cradled her. For the first time that night, she took in his appearance. His hair was messier than usual. In fact, it looked like he had been pulling on it. His face seemed slightly redder and puffier as well. His cheeks were glistening a little due to what gave the impression of being hastily wiped tears. It appeared she wasn’t the only one having a rough day.
“Chat?”, she asked in a soft voice.
He screwed his eyes shut tighter and let some air out, but aside from that he didn’t offer much of a response. Marinette lifted a hand to his cheek. She used her thumb to gently wipe away the dry tear tracks there.
“Minou, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”, she murmured.
“I honestly don’t think I have the time to even begin to explain myself, Princesse.”, Chat responded with a humourless laugh. As if on cue, his ring beeped again. 3 minutes left, Marinette mentally tallied.
Marinette didn't really want to let go. Chat's arms felt like a haven, and she did not want to leave their safety any time soon. She took a deep breath. It was probably reckless, but she couldn’t really find it in herself to let him go. After everything that had happened today, she felt as though she was owed a bit of indulgence.
“Do… Do you want to come inside? I know that your timer is running out, but…”, she said as she looked down, feeling slightly embarrassed by her own forwardness. She took a moment to collect herself before looking up again and continuing, “But I don’t really want to be alone right now, and… I think you don’t want to either. We could talk… or not. I know you have to recharge, and I have a fair amount of snacks inside. I promise I won’t peek, I-I just don’t want to be so lonely.”
Chat hesitated a bit. She knew what she asked him to do was risky, but she truly felt like it was what they both needed at the moment. She waited with bated breath before Chat nodded.
“Who am I to deny a princess such a sincere request?”, he joked with a sad smile.
His ring gave another warning, and Marinette stood up and guided him by the hand towards the trap door leading to her room. She noticed Chat was careful to avoid landing on her bed with his boots, as she moved them to her loft. Marinette went to one of her drawers and pulled out a bag of cheesy popcorn. She knew Plagg favoured cheese, but she only kept non-perishables for the kwamis. She hoped the god of destruction and chaos wouldn’t mind that much.
“I know this might not be your kwami’s preferred food, but I hope this still works. Stand behind the screen right there. I’ll get some blankets and snacks. We could watch something, or just talk, whatever you want.”
Marinette was a bit nervous. This really wasn’t wise. She kept the Miracle Box, full of restless kwamis, here. She knew she could trust Tikki to stay hidden, but what about the rest? This was chancy, but she needed it. She was almost akumatized a few minutes ago. She needed to get herself together, and she knew that if she was left alone with her thoughts and that just wasn’t going to happen.
“Claws in”, whispered Chat as a flash of green light filled the room.
It felt strange to know that her partner was standing just a few meters away, disguiseless. If she wanted to, she could easily find out who it was that hid behind the black mask. She would never betray his trust like that, but the fact that he was right there hidden by a mere changing screen was thrilling.
Marinette knew he was distressed too, and she wanted to help. She knew better than to pry too much. It was imperative they stayed in anonymity. Nevertheless, she vowed to do everything she could to help.
Marinette went about and grabbed her laptop, a big, fluffy blanket, a box of tissues, and a bag of popcorn. She settled on her chaise and made herself comfortable. She figured that regardless of whether Chat wanted to talk or not, having some show or movie playing even if just for background noise wouldn’t hurt. Just as she started browsing, a flash of green overtook the room once more, signalling Chat Noir was back.
He approached her chaise timidly. Marinette was aware that with the two of them it would be a snug fit, but she wanted the contact. She needed the reaffirmation that she was not on her own, that the one person who could relate the most to her was there. She wanted him close, but she was not about to make him feel uncomfortable for her own gain. She was feeling self-indulgent, but never to that extent.
“I know the chaise is small, but I promise it’s pretty cosy. We could sit on the floor if you’d prefer though.”
Marinette began to stand. After all, she didn’t want to put Chat on the spot. Were she Ladybug right now, she knew her minou would jump at the chance to be close to her, but she was Marinette at the moment. Even if her civilian self and Chat had spent some time together before, le Dessinateur and Glaciator coming to mind, they were not nearly as close as Ladybug and he were.
“You don’t have to move, Princesse. I’m more than okay with sharing the chaise.”, he replied hastily.
Chat got under the blanket and sat beside Marinette, leaning back to rest more comfortably on the pillows. Marinette passed the popcorn and tissues to Chat whilst she continued her quest for what to watch.
“Do you like Disney? They’re kind of my comfort movies, and I kinda need as much of it as I can get right now.”, Marinette told Chat.
Disney movies were familiar. They reminded Marinette of simpler, happier times. She needed something light-hearted with a happy ending guaranteed. Lord knows she couldn’t take any more drama.
“I don’t mind Disney at all, but my favourite princess is right by my side.”, Chat said, bumping his shoulder with hers and offering her a lopsided smile. He paused before adding on a more serious note, “But really, Marinette, what’s wrong?”
His gaze on her was soft. Concern was written clearly on his face. He was safe. He was safe, she chided. Marinette trusted her Chaton. He was understanding, and genuinely wanted to help. She knew she could let him in, but she also knew it was risky. Her biggest problem stemmed from being Ladybug and she couldn’t let anyone know about that, regardless of how much she trusted them. She was aware she couldn’t share everything, but maybe opening up a little wouldn’t hurt. She needs this, just for today, she’ll allow herself to be honest.
“It’s kind of a mix of a lot of stuff.”, she started softly, averting her gaze. She chose her next words carefully, for she was about to play with fire. “I am used to having a lot on my plate. Balancing a million things at once is just second nature to me at this point. I used to be okay with all of it. After all, most of it is to help others. I love being able to be there for those I care for. I am fine with giving, and giving, and giving if it’s for them. The problem is that I can’t find balance anymore. I can’t remove anything from my plate; that just won’t do. But if I keep going on like this, it’s all going to consume me.”
Tears started blurring her vision, but she blinked them away. She wasn’t going to start crying again. Lord knows she can’t risk Shadow Moth trying to get her again. “It’s already taking a huge toll on my social life. I haven’t seen my friends in so long…. I-I even had to break up with my boyfriend because of it all.”
She could’ve stopped there, but once she started she realised that the further she went the lighter she felt. It was like a dam had broken and her words were the water once held back, flowing at rapid, unstoppable speed.
“I used to think that I thrived by helping others out. I enjoy it, and love what I do, but I might have overestimated my abilities. I thought I could handle it all since I have been doing just that for so long. I hadn’t really noticed until lately how much of a toll shouldering on so many things is taking on me. I keep chipping away pieces of myself for the sake of it all. My responsibilities won’t stop calling. It all came crashing down today with Vérité. All Luka wanted was for me to be honest about why I kept disappearing and standing him up, and the truth was that I couldn’t tell him. I wanted to, but I genuinely cannot go into detail about some of my responsibilities. I realised that Luka deserved better than a flaky girlfriend.”
Her voice had started out frantically following a crescendo until it peaked and trickled into barely a whisper with her final realisation as a single tear slipped, “Maybe I never deserved him and I was just too selfish to admit it to myself.”
Suddenly, green eyes met blue ones for Chat had turned Marinette to look at him and in a tone that left no room for discussions said, “You are one of the most selfless and caring people I know, Marinette. You are smart, quick-witted, and kind. It is normal to need to break away from it all sometimes, especially when you have so much going on. Needing a breather does not suddenly erase all the goodness in your heart and the positivity you put out into the world. It simply proves you are human.”
“But there is just so much to do, kitty. I cannot just get up and take a break. People are counting on me, people I care about. I don’t want to let anyone down.”, she said, breaking eye contact and looking down.
Chat softly lifted her face by the chin so she was looking at him again before saying, “Taking a break doesn’t mean letting people down. You could delegate things. I am sure you have friends who would be more than willing to help. I’m sure if you start getting a bit of help from others, not only would you feel better, but you’ll also do better.”
Marinette knew Chat was right. She could ask one of her girls to help her out with babysitting. She could delegate certain meetings with Principal Damocles to Alya. She could even ask her parents to cut her some slack at the bakery. However, Marinette did not want to bother them. She didn’t want to annoy anyone by throwing her responsibilities at them. They all have their own lives, and Marinette did not want to make them any harder for them.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Chat. I don’t want to bother my friends with all of this.”, she said feeling small.
“Marinette, sometimes you have to accept that you can’t do it all on your own. Take Ladybug and me, for example. Sometimes an akuma is a bit too strong, and we just can’t take it on by ourselves. So, Ladybug goes out and asks someone she trusts to come help us out. I mean, you know that better than most, or am I wrong, Multimouse?”, Chat questioned, giving her a mischievous smirk.
Marinette smiled mirthfully at the reference to her stint with Mullo. It certainly was amongst her more complicated plans, but it thankfully worked out perfectly in the end. Plus, Chat had a point. When things got too rough, Ladybug asked for help. If her persona as one half of Paris’s duo protectors could do it, her civilian-self should be able to too.
“Plus, good friends are always there for each other, and I am sure yours are not the exception. They’ll understand if you need a helping hand. After all, you are always there for them. None of them will hesitate in returning the favour. I am sure you can count on them.”, Chat continued with conviction.
Marinette had to admit Chat Noir was making a lot of good points. Her kitty was surely onto something. She definitely should start mapping out a plan to delegate some things in a way that will not include her dropping the ball on something or unceremoniously unloading too much on someone.
She still was the Guardian. She still was Ladybug. She was still just a kid who got the responsibility of keeping a city of millions safe from a terrorist unceremoniously thrown at her despite everything that was already on her plate beforehand. But right now, with her Chaton at her side, she got reminded that she did not have to do it all alone. She has friends and loving, understanding parents. She has a strong support system, all she needs is to learn how to use it, which is honestly easier said than done. However, she can finally see a light at the end of this tunnel, all she needs to do is find a way to follow it.
A feeling akin to relief floods her. Not everything is fixed, but the right direction for her next step has just been given to her. Marinette is incredibly grateful towards her kitty right now, and she lets this feeling take over. She does not hesitate when putting her arms around him and pulling him close, hiding her face on the crook of his neck. Chat hesitates for a second, probably surprised by her suddenness. Regardless, he still puts his arms around her waist and holds her close.
The smell of leather, a fresh woodsy cologne, and a slight hint of camembert that she guesses is Plagg’s fault fills her nostrils, soothing her further. She knows she can always count on Chat Noir. Tears of happiness suddenly prickle her eyes. Just a couple of minutes ago she was feeling alone and hopeless, but her wonderful, wonderful partner showed her how mistaken she was. She cannot begin to put into words how grateful she is, certain that her voice would fail her anyway right now. That does not stop her from muttering a very watery, “Thank you, Kitty.”
They stay like that for a while, Marinette just struggling a bit to compose herself. However, once her breathing evens out again, she pulls away and looks at Chat Noir. She knows something is bothering him, and she wants to help him through whatever he’s going through. Thus, she decides to inquire, “Now, don’t think I didn’t notice I wasn’t the only one who had it rough today. Tell me, Chaton. What’s wrong?”
← Chapter 1
Author's Note
I honestly struggled with getting this one down. I want to porperly portray what I believe the repercussions of being Ladybug and Chat Noir is having on Marinette and Adrien. It is clearly taking a toll on them, and the show doesn't really delve all that much on that (for obvious reasons).
We got a fair glimpse during Gang of Secrets on Mari's case, but when it comes to Adrien we get nothing more than hints here and there. I understand why the show can't do much about showing us this because of its status as a children's show. Thus, I've decided that I'd take matters into my own hands and write that myself. That's why I decided to give Defenceless a T rating instead of a G one.
I hope you guys enjoy Defenceless as much I enjoy writing it! :)
Ko-fi AO3
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