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jaggedamethyst · 13 days ago

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not in that way (part four)

bucky barnes x fwb!reader

content: you seek out bucky this time...only for him to realize there's more to you than he thought.

warnings: 18+ smut minors dni, unprotected sex, a mix of soft and rough sex, degradation if you squint so insanely hard, mean bucky again, mutual pining

notes: not proofread. i usually upload and revisit later! also havent read the previous parts in a while so I might come back and change anything that doesn't necessarily fit them

ps: ty for the support as always! and im so sorry for the break. i had a bunch of work to do, but I am now free!

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

Any building the Avengers were in was an automatic escape from reality. There were always workers, things going on, and a consistent buzzing sound that left the entire space vibrating. The hustle and bustle of being a superhero was one you weren’t fond of, but the feeling of invisibility was more than welcome. It was so much so that you’d even find yourself here when Steve wasn’t—familiarizing yourself with the ins and outs, claiming areas as your own, and finding the best quiet nooks for your alone time. You could do this at home, sure, but your place was inherently filled with a sadness you didn’t like. There was a loneliness you couldn’t escape—that there was really nobody.

You settled for the consistent background sound and ambience of the Avengers Tower. Here, at the very least, you could escape the confines of your own mind and the debilitating existentialism.

Your brain was admittedly split into pieces, like a diagram of each section, clear-cut with a dedicated function. When you weren’t letting yourself fall into thoughts of your being alone in this world, you saw Bucky. Often, it was just to question his actions. Other times, a dissection of why he occupied so much of your time.

You couldn’t help but float to him now, your mind wandering to what he was doing, how he felt. The thought only burned you more, that he couldn’t care less about how you felt. That he only cared about having his way, the image he portrayed to Steve. You knew he wasn’t like that, not really. Watching movies with you, agreeing to a party…they were so unlike him, and you noticed. You hated how much of him you were aware of—of a friend that was still somehow hardly that.

Without thinking more of it, you stood, legs taking you around the tower. You were aimless, not particularly having a course, but walking with a soft determination nonetheless. People didn’t notice you, they never did. You weren’t exactly outgoing; everything about you showed that, and people didn’t approach you unless it was mandatory. You kind of liked it, the way you could walk around here without being bothered.

You hoped Bucky wasn’t the same. You hoped he secretly appreciated being bothered, that he wouldn’t mind you interrupting his day. You tapped on his door lightly, one you would usually ignore on purpose.

You didn’t hear him approach the door, his steps almost always light enough not to be heard. He shocked you when he opened the door, a flat look on his face.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

You skipped the pleasantries, gliding past Bucky when he stepped back. You look around now, never really getting a full look of his space, but recognizing it as Bucky’s regardless.

The tower was massive, somehow allowing each room to be its own mini-apartment. Each had their own living spaces that doubled as bedrooms, bathrooms off to the side, and plenty of space for self-expression. Despite this, there was nothing that individualized his quarters. Everything was pristine. There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight, his bed seemingly untouched, like he hadn’t even sat there. The room didn’t have a scent that stood out to you, but rather one of cleanliness. The faint smell of cleaning products lingered, not fresh, but indicative that he kept his room clean without really trying.

“Did you need something?” Bucky interrupted your observation, speaking behind you as he stood close to the door.

You thought about not replying the way you wanted, you really had, but it was too easy. The thought of the tables turning, that you finally would be able to comfortably express your desire to him, had your legs buckling before you even began.

“No,” you smirked playfully, “Just you.”

He lowered his head at that, nodding to himself in understanding. He let out a dry chuckle, one that hurt more than you expected. “Can’t right now—I’m busy.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Things.”

Your face twisted at that, your entire body freezing in place. The distance became glaringly obvious to you now, how he hadn’t approached like he usually would. He was so confusing, a trait that normally only added to the allure. It wasn’t working for you now, though, not when you were bored and desperate and craving the attention only he could provide.

“So when you do it—show up and just initiate-“ your hands waved frantically. You were confused, erratic, and your ability to keep calm was escaping you. “So when you do it, it’s okay?”

He sighed at that, looking away, “I’m just busy today, that’s all.”

Bucky could hear the unspoken phrase that lingered between you both.

What about me?

It was filled with much more than a question of the hypocrisy in his actions. He was glad you decided against it; he knew he would give in immediately. For both of you, it was yet another step toward an unsuspectingly high ledge. To pose such a question, to ask him anything about you, would have Bucky following after you. No matter how high the ledge, how devastating the fall, he convinced himself that he would follow you over a cliff.

“I don’t understand you…at all.” You sighed, “How’d we even get here?”

Bucky shook his head, “I don’t know. It’s just...”

You watched him trail off, once again paralyzed by the tense situation. “Maybe we should stop whatever this is, for the sake of what remains of our friendship.” Bucky’s head snapped up at you, making your words falter slightly. “I just,” you looked down to the floor, “I can’t keep hurting Steve this way, hurting myself-“

“Am I hurting you?”

Across the room, you saw Bucky’s body rise and fall slightly, his breath a bit uneven and faintly escaping him. He looked at you, not speaking anymore, but wanting an answer from you. He’d never hurt you intentionally. He would never willingly play with your mind in the way you were suggesting. Yet he realized he was doing just that, not only to himself by ignoring the way he craved you, but to you by making you feel crazy for acting just as he had.

He wanted to be near you.

The pull he had toward you this time was different, a tension in his chest that told him to make this up to you. His own mind was getting in the way again, and you were a victim of him…a consistent casualty.

He watched your face, it was still searching for an answer to his question. The truth was that it wasn’t simple. Maybe you were hurting him. Perhaps you were hurting each other.

Bucky couldn’t care anymore.

“Come here.”

Your eyes snapped up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, much softer than it was usually. “What?”

He sat on the edge of his bed. “Sit with me, please?”

You were reluctant, and it was apparent in your walk. It was hard for Bucky not to feel jittery watching you, like he had once again started something that only ended one way.

The silence lingered between the two of you as you sat, keeping a respectable distance away from Bucky. He noticed that, but didn’t blame you. In fact, that’s exactly his worry…it's always been that.

“No one’s gonna show up.”

“What?”

Bucky had spoken randomly, an admission you hadn’t expected, so quick that you didn’t even realize what he was talking about.

“Nobody’s gonna celebrate me or what I’ve done,” he turned to look at you, “and I think I deserve that.”

You inhaled slowly, “The party?”

“The party.”

Bucky could only nod, letting his eyes leave you and stare ahead. You followed his eyeline and found a blank wall in front of him. Quickly, you realized most of the walls were like this…a sort of torture to the man you knew was anything less than the basic color.

You huffed at that, the way he thought so little of himself. Even more so at the way it physically showed in his private space. You didn’t think before a hand slid into his, thumb gliding over his skin. You hadn’t expected that, for him not to be wearing his gloves for once. It was weirdly intimate—the barrier that was usually present between you no longer there.

“Mistakes don’t make us any less worthy of life.”

It was abrupt, reminiscent of the gruff tone Bucky usually had. It was uncharacteristic of you. So much so that you could feel him looking at you now, concerned.

You continued, not looking at Bucky but still grasping his hand. “Accidents,” a breath caught in your throat. “Accidents happen, yeah. But what happened to you…wasn’t you. You have to understand that.” You finally turned to him, finding his eyes already on you. “It could be so much worse.”

A flicker in his eye let you know that he saw something there…that these weren’t just empty platitudes about how life sucks. You had personal experience.

You avoided eye contact because of it, a sadness on your face he hated seeing. Without thinking, he let himself grasp your face and pull you toward him. Your lips collided with his before you could even conceptualize what was happening.

Your hands went up to his wrists, finding any source of contact with him you could. The kiss was sweet, the weight of emotions becoming apparent. Bucky let himself be present with you in a way he hadn’t so far.

You couldn’t let yourself think before starting to strip yourself of any barrier between the pair of you. He followed suit, keeping his lips on you as best he could while simultaneo usly removing his clothes.

Eventually, he broke contact, allowing himself the sight of crawling back on his bed before he pressed you down.

He decided against any foreplay, wanting to be with you immediately. Bucky slid into you the same as he had before, inhaling at the tightness but not letting himself be hindered by it. You loved it, and he could tell—the specific feeling of him inside you with no extra slick to ease him in. It was painful in the best way. You nodded then, a silent affirmation to him to keep going, that you could take it. He obliged without thinking, a sickeningly slow pace sliding in and out of you now.

Your whines filled the room, an indication to Bucky that you were enjoying yourself. The sharpness was still there, though, a slight twitch in your muscles telling him so. Without thinking, he rubbed into your thighs. He attempted to quell that part of you that was slightly raw, despite your enjoyment. He was obsessed with the way you took him, how you’d simply let his name fall from your lips as he sank further and deeper. He watched you, eyes fluttering shut.

“Am I hurting you?”

It was different this time, Bucky’s voice dripping with the sound of that smirk he always had. The one you’d observed when he tried to seem closed off…the coy look on his face when he tried to be deceptive.

He was hurting you, yes, but in the best way imaginable.

The thought had you reeling, only brought back by the feeling of coldness slapping against your chin. Your eyes opened reluctantly. At first, you immediately honed in on the sight of Bucky inside you. Watching his length disappear in and out of you had your body on fire…a vision of pure bliss. But that slapping.

Bucky’s dog tags hung around his neck, skin glistening from his work on you. He didn’t stop as he watched your face twist, still kneading into your skin as he kept fucking into you.

You let a hand reach up, an attempt to move the chain that was bothering you. To your surprise, Bucky clasped your hand and pulled it toward his mouth. He kissed over your skin there, soft pecks lingering over your palm and wrist before intertwining his metal fingers with yours.

“I got it,” Bucky grunted between strokes.

With his free hand, he reached up to remove the clasp at the back of his neck. You watched him, an incredulous look on your face as he somehow kept driving into you. He let the chain fall, skillfully wrapping it around your neck below him. He adjusted it, pulling the tags down on your chest.

He kept going, ogling the sight of you wearing his tags, even more so at the swell of your nipples. He made sure to rub them, rolling them underneath his palm in a movement that had you weakened…even more so.

“Gosh- oh-“

Bucky had leaned down then, embracing you in a tight hug with one arm as the other still clasped onto your hand. He kept your intertwined hands beside your head, allowing the other to roam free…and it did. You found his back now, smoothing over the warmed skin and up to his neck.

You whispered in his ear, “Keep going…”

He simply nodded, committed to fucking away any memory you had of his wrongdoing. He wanted that for himself, too. Bucky wanted to start anew somehow, despite it being impossible. So he settled for this, pulling in and out of you, drawing pure audible filth from your throat.

He was quite happy with himself, smiling into your neck as he nibbled there. He made sure to keep you close…impossibly so, appreciating the feel of his tags between the two of you. He imagined the meal engraving into your skin, a mark that he’d had no right to yearn for but wanted nonetheless…for you to be his entirely.

His voice came out shakier than he thought it would, “I’m close.”

He felt you nod, a fervent shake against the pillows. He slipped a hand between you at that, rubbing you in a way only he could. It was quick, clearly pushing you toward the edge.

Your body jerked against him, walls spasming as he sped up his pace. Bucky kept with his torturous hand motions, too, observing every reaction he drew from you. He couldn’t help but leave kisses over your skin as he came…anchoring himself to you.

He loved moments like this, breaths ragged as you calmed down together. You watched as his back rose and fell, the arch of his muscles in your view.

You let him stay there as you embraced each other, fingertips gliding over the back of his hardened hand.

Suddenly, Bucky felt your breath press into his ear. “Even if it’s just me, you, and Steve,” you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. “Even if it’s just us…it’ll be worthwhile, I promise.”

A slow, deep breath and a simple reply resounded from the man.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Bucky nestled into you further, voice muffled. “Yeah…okay.”

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4rticbolt · 5 months ago

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Lay Off! |Master-List|

Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader, fluff, angst/comfort, anxiety, reader snaps, anger-issues, make-up, swearing, lowkey made me tear up.

Summary: You get overstimulated and finally break...

A/N: I have finally revised this fic. I am so glad, because I can’t believe I WROTE THIS 😭😭 There might be a few slip-ups, but it’s WAY better from before.

(Taking a break changes your grammar and set-up istg.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

It'd been mid-day.

The hours had been painstakingly fucking long, and you'd cooped yourself up in your room to avoid further attention.

You didn't know what set you off, but you just wanted it to stop.

Your skin crawled, and your head felt like it was going to explode. Your limbs helplessly flexed and turned, attempting to alieve your symptoms, but nothing would let up. You were wound. And you were wound tight. Your body wouldn’t let you loose, leaving you to suffer as anxiety prickled over your skin.

You tried to distract yourself with a small craft, you really did, but only more frustration welled. You couldn’t keep still, and you finally cursed. Hands slammed against the desk, sending your paper crafts across the wood, into your mess of scraps.

Tears welled, and you pushed yourself away with your rolling chair—avoiding the further abuse you’d inflict on your workspace. Heat raged, and your nails drug through your hair, trying to pull yourself out of your head, but it wasn’t enough. No matter the distance you put within yourself, it never felt right.

You were stressed, anxious, and torn that you pushed the ones you loved away. And you could never fucking explain why. You just felt so angry. So turmoiled, that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.

Your fists curled in your hair and a burning sensation followed, leaving you to feel something other than your pain.

But the unexplainable feeling grew, and it coursed through you like an endless loop of rage and helplessness. You didn’t know how to control it, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, you just couldn’t function.

Left, to right. Over and over, you paced your room. Trying to calm down, but a distant knock echoed.

"Hey, lunch is..." Usopp's voice trailed off as he saw your state, and he quickly backed off.

"Uh, I'll let Sanji know you—“

"Just go, please!" you snapped, banging your fists against your head. Your chest heaved, and Usopp’s breath caught.

"Yep! On it!" he squeaked, shutting your door.

Silence washed over the room, but peace didn't follow like it usually did. It was unbearable, and your body felt intolerable. Like you needed to do something, or you needed something. You couldn’t remember what or why, and nothing clearly came through…

The restlessness grew, and it was boiling.

You shakily went back to your desk, picking up the small paper you'd originally thrown with your trembling hands, trying to convince yourself it'd be okay. That you'd get through it.

You could just mend it. You could do it. It'd be okay. Just calm down.

You're fine.

It was just some small papery flowers, how hard could it be? Anyone could do it—you had this. You always did. You got frustrated and eventually came back to fix it. You just needed time.

So why couldn't you do it right now? You gave yourself plenty of time.

Though you still couldn't you function, and couldn't you think. Why the hell was it that you felt like you had no time? Like there was nothing but everything coming at you all at once? Why couldn't you—

"Oi, what's going on?" Zoro appeared by the door, and his voice was firm—steady. His presence was grounding, and it’d been something you’d always loved, but your body strangely hated it in the moment.

You were too lost in it to realize, but Usopp had probably been worried.

He must have told Zoro, because everyone knew he'd been your paper-weight. He kept you together, like a stack of paper, or in other words—aligned control. But, in the moment, you couldn’t understand that, and you’d eventually come to regret it later.

Zoro was tense at your silence, as he wasn’t often familiar with it. He was used to your laughter, and your clumsy remarks, even your stupid comments.

But he knew that wasn’t always you.

You kept yourself together well, until you couldn’t and you hid. He wasn’t an emotional guru or anything, but he’d been attentive enough to pick up on your behaviors.

Especially, when things took a turn for the worse.

He'd easily seen it this morning when you came in for break-fast and left, sparing no good-morning, no sweet smile, no teasing—you were just struggling.

You weren’t acting like you, and he hated it.

Zoro wouldn’t seem the empathetic type, but when it came to the ones he loved—his chest would uncomfortably ache. Especially when it came to you, who held herself so high yet was hurting so much deep down.

The sniper had startled him awake, quickly telling him—or, rather rambling to him, that you weren’t okay. It seemed rather urgent, and he looked offly looked worried, so Zoro obviously wouldn’t set it aside.

If you needed help, or guidance—you just did.

There was no easier way to put it, and it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just life.

And Zoro was never one to bullshit, but you could be sensitive at times. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just made things harder for you.

You could get worked up over the smallest of things, unintentionally snapping—or taking it the wrong way, blocking yourself off…

He’d seen the signs.

He always had.

And this was clearly one of those times, where something had gotten the better of you.

But little did he know, it wasn't just your anger. It wasn’t like the other times, something was painfully different. This was deeper.

Calmly, Zoro spoke your name.

You were quick to snap, but you turned away covering your face. You tried to calm yourself and catch your breath—but yet again, it wasn’t helping.

"Yes, I know, just give me second.” you replied, uncharacteristically hitting your desk. You hands slammed your poor creation, and tears began to well. You were cracking, and more frustration poured.

You snapped again, and a curse flew out your lips as you kicked your desk. It was harsh, and you were sent roughly back against the wall in your chair—creating a slam.

At your action, he knew you were overwhelmed. Hell, he’d felt it as soon as he came in, but as you curled in on yourself—digging your nails, it only confirmed it.

A muffled sob broke through the silence, and he was beside you in seconds.

In two steps, he’d crouched down infront of you.

His calloused hands, prevented you from hurting yourself, though his touch wasn’t rough. It was strong, and it was strong enough to keep you from pushing away or thrashing.

He needed you here, with him, and not lost somewhere else.

"Breathe." he ordered.

"I can’t, just stop, don’t—fucking touch me!” you choked, attempting to squirm, "Zoro stop it.”

Your lover doesn’t break, nor’ does he stop. He only holds you tighter, as if he knows you’ll only spiral further.

Your breath is labored, struggled—and he can already see you slip.

His gaze softens, and he steadily pulls you into his lap. Zoro doesn't comfort you with words, but he does with the way he knows how—his presence.

By being there, holding you—grounding you, tightening his grip as you stubbornly try to push away, he doesn't let go.

He silently urges you to relax; creating absent circles over your back, as his hand tightens at the base of your neck, pushing you easily to his shoulder.

His legs lock to come around your own, pulling, to keep you in.

"Stop fighting me, you'll only make it worse," his voice rumbles over the crown of your head, and you can’t help but feel comforted.

You want to agree, you want to stop, but your body doesn't. It involuntarily moves, and you cry as you push against his chest, growing light-headed.

But the dizziness forces your body to relax.

Your shoulders slack, and you ease. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath.

"You good, now?" he asks, keeping a gentle grip.

You sniffle, nodding as you can't bare yourself to look up at him. You don't even know what came over you, and you can barely remember what happened.

You feel like an idiot.

Embarrassed, guilty—ashamed, just wrong.

"Yeah, I’m sorry.” you whispered, leaning back.

Though Zoro doesn’t let up, he keeps you in his lap and his hands shift to cradle your face.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” his thumbs wipes your tears, and you can’t help but lean into them.

“I should’ve come down earlier, I didn’t know you were getting so worked up.”

"It's okay," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, but he tilts you back up.

"____, it's not. You know that, what’s going on?”

"I don't know," you manage out, and his look crushed you.

You know he wants to understand, he always does, the whole crew does, but you’re not even sure yourself. A weight topples over you, and you suddenly remember the way you snapped at Usopp.

Shit. You didn’t mean that—you didn’t mean any of this.

Why weren’t you doing anything right?

"I just, I don’t know.” your voice broke, and you turned away. “I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t go away.”

"Then, why didn't you come to me?"

"Because, it's too much, everything feels like too much.” you whimpered, covering a hand over your mouth. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to snap at you—or Usopp. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

"Hey—stop, look at me." he adjusted you forward, and this time he held your gaze.

His eyes carried a warmth, and it felt like a safety you never had the privilege of experiencing.

"Sorry,” you whispered.

"No. Don’t. Don’t, go apologizing. No one needs that.” Zoro’s hand ran through your hair, and he focused forward. You needed to hear this, and he’d say it over and over until you didn’t.

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling something, no one expects you to be perfect all the time—and I sure as hell don’t give a shit if you snap at shit you didn’t mean.” his lips twitched into a smile, as he remembered a time you cursed at Luffy for grabbing your food.

He liked your unexpected anger, even if it was this.

“The crew sees, I see you. And that’s all that matters.” he murmurs, and he sees you crack a smile.

Good. You needed that.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah, I do.” you sniffled, nodding your head, “loud and clear.”

He let out a breath, “good. Now C’mere.”

Zoro shifted, leaning against the wall to hug you close. He was being soft, and he was being kind.

In his own Zoro, way of course, but he was still there. He always would be.

He cupped the side of your head, letting you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.

Your lover wanted to take away anything that had harmed you, but that took time—and he realized that. But he didn’t mind hugging you a little longer to fix it.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and little did he know, this was all anyone could ask for.

Someone who still loved you at your lowest.

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preseriesdean · 1 year ago

Note

if you don’t mind me asking, could you share some of your favorite fanfics or authors? thanks ❤️

oh hi hello!! yes of course!! i actually haven't read any spn fic in a while but i have spent a lot of time organizing my bookmarks. i'm going to assume that you meant samdean fic but i'll add a few non-samdean ones at the end.

authors!

@zmediaoutlet (deadlybride on ao3)

candle_beck (ao3)

@goshen-applecrumbledore (ao3)

whereupon (livejournal)

Linden (ao3)

sevenfists (ao3)

there are so many more great authors but these came to mind :)

fics!

i am going to list my forever-favorites first - the ones i would recommend to anyone and everyone, screaming-from-the-rooftops kind of love - and then many many more under the cut.

beloved by urchinesque (2016, 1.9k, NR, warning: death) It might be the gentlest thing that's ever happened to them.

in my opinion everyone should read this once. it's quick. they die. it's-- happy, somehow. beautiful. i think about it all the time.

Last Day on Earth by candle_beck (2009, 10.8k, E) A list of things to do if you only have one day to live, presented in inconvenient non-list form.

last year my best friend and i were pondering which fic felt quintessential to samdean for us and somehow settled on this one. i still agree with the choice.

Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect (2010, 10k, M) Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam. Stanford era.

my favorite stanford era fic. i think it captures dean's loneliness and desperation beautifully.

A man with his insides out and his outsides off by britomart_is (2016, 5.3k, E, time travel, underage) They say there are only two stories in the world: man goes on a journey, and stranger comes to town.

another fic i want everyone to read. it's so short and feels like a novel. sam is messed up and dean is in love and everything is miserable.

Breathing Hard by whereupon (2009, 9k, E) The day Dean figures it out.

this is so simple and yet-- everything to me. i can't think about dinosaurs without thinking about this fic, which doesn't tell you much, but you'll see. sometimes this is really all you need.

The Last Outpost of All That Is by gekizetsu (2008, 59k, E) The world ends while they’re asleep.

this fic has stayed with me my whole life. i thought about it even during my years away from spn and fandom entirely. they're alone and you don't know why and they build their life together and you end up wondering, is this hell or heaven? whenever i come across a screenshot of the last couple of paragraphs i want to cry.

see things so much clearer by deadlybride (2020, 11.7k, E) Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

this is a fic that hits the spot for me personally so well. another favorite preseries fic. i love the idea of sam using livejournal, and of dean finding out this way.

Stay The Distance by lazy_daze (2011, 24k, E) Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

i love enmeshment, and i love that here it's literal. i love that they're just sort of fine with it.

more fics below!

in absolutely no particular order whatsover. please check the warnings and tags on these before reading!

Recall by De_Nugis (2012, 6.3k, E) Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.

Living in god's blind spot by applecrumbledore (2022, 25k, E) Of all the situations Dean didn’t need his dad to see him in, ‘getting off to being pushed around by a guy’ was in the top three. And ‘a guy’ was a massive glossing-over of reality. Any guy—any other guy—would be bad enough, but Sam was fucking cataclysmic.

Almost At Home by balefully (2008, 24.3k, E) Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (2016, 7.4k, M) Sam gets his soul back on a Monday.

When I Fall Asleep It Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is (2009, 1.9k, E) Post-Season Two. Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

Life As We Know It by sevenfists (2007, 13.7k, M, curtain fic) On the morning that Sam woke up, Dean ran five red lights on the way to the hospital, his half-empty coffee cup sloshing in the holder.

tied up like two ships by orphan_account (2014, 3.1k, E) Dean liked to hold hands.

Gospel Truth by Cerberuss (2020, 15.2k, E, case fic) ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream.

Buy You A Mockingbird by candle_beck (2011, 10.3k, M, underage, outsider pov) A genuine horror story.

because you want to die for love by hathfrozen (2021, 27.3k, E) Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.

the constant vow by deadlybride (2022, 119k, E, fem dean-ish) They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym (2009, 10.8k, E) Sam really didn't do very well without his brother. Coda for Mystery Spot.

State of Love and Trust/As I Busted Down the Pretext by cormallen (2010, 2.9k, M) When you know exactly what your brother's thinking, there are some chances you just don't take.

Quiet with the Rain by Linden (2014, 5.3k, T) Dean can spot an undercover cop at thirty paces, a hooker at twenty, and rims that will match his baby's at ten. But the fact that his little brother is in love with him—that, he can't see worth a damn.

have a cigar by deadlybride (2020, 5.6k, E) What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive (2022, 18.5k, E, underage) Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Bare by gracerene (2022, 2.2k, T) Of all the things Dean hasn't done before, Sam never expected something as innocuous as skinny dipping to be on the list.

Speechless by candle_beck (2008, 11.2k, T, case fic) Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Like It Was Yesterday by nomelon (2014, 4.9k, T, fem dean, amnesia) Sam can't remember a time when Dean wasn't there. Dean is always with him. Sam's whole life, there's never been anyone else.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (2022, 46k, E) To cure Dean from the Mark of Cain, Sam has to let Dean, in all his demonic glory, possess him for 28 days. It goes about as well as expected.

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) by orphan_account (2021, 5.9k, E, pwp) Dean really likes the way Sam smells.

lost in yesterday by margaryes (2023, 1k, NR, john pov) John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

Unraveling by Linden (2017, 855 words, E) No, he’d said, the first time Sammy had tried to kiss him, sixteen and half-drunk and stupidly beautiful, even though he’d wanted so badly to say yes.

pack up the moon by deathdreamt (2021, 5.9k, T, pre-slash) Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.

Yesterday, minnesota by applecrumbledore (2022, 30k, E, case fic) Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness by orphan_account (2021, 5.6k, E) Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. (soulless sam)

The Palm Oasis by fictionallemons (2022, 12.3k, E, underage) John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam.

Other Brothers by homo_pink (2020, 7k, M, underage, outsider pov) A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Leader of the Pack by astolat (2007, 14.9k, E) Teaching old dogs new tricks.

Underground Wires by eggnogged (2012, 15.8k, E, fem sam, underage) It’s hard enough being a teenage girl even without all the extra crap: they move around all the time, her family is as far removed from normal as it’s possible to get, and she’s in love with her older brother. Sam has no control on any of it, she’s just trying to stay afloat.

Multitude of Sins by Linden (2015, 4.4k, T, outsider pov) Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName (2018, 10.3k, E, underage, dub con-ish, john pov) John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (2016, 5.6k, E) You can't spend what you ain't got, and you can't lose what you ain't never had.

Flagstaff by Linden (2014, 7.3k, T, pre-slash, john pov) John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter (2007, 3.8k, M, outsider pov) If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic (2012, 13.5k, E, non-con) Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again.

Someone Else's Blood by sevenfists (2006, 6.7k, E) The first time, of course, was an accident. (pretend dating)

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze (2009, 26k, E, swesson) AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Worthless cartography by applecrumbledore (2022, 15.6k, E) Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

The Space Between Sense and Memory by orphan_account (2021, 4.8k, T) There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde (2019, 10.9k, E, case fic) When was the last time you trusted happy.

Crossed Wires by rivkat (2015, 10.9k, E) Dean thinks Sam is dead.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena (2010, 23.7k, E, underage) Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Wear Him Lika a Habit by sevenfists (2008, 2.2k, M) Their first kiss isn't an accident. It's anticipated well in advance, discussed for weeks, argued over, second-guessed.

Amor Prohibido by phoenixflight (2020, 3k, M, underage) They spent the spring of Sam's sophomore year living in a shitty apartment south of San Antonio. Every Friday night the clearest channel played three hour marathons of a Spanish soap called La Casa del Corazón. There was a mutually understood truce about watching it, because the alternatives were infomercials or creepy kids’ cartoons that futzed into static every fifteen seconds.

Open Road by Mollyamory (2010, 2k, T) Sam's old enough to know what's good for him.

It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu (2011, 38.4k, time travel) Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see.

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory (2008, 3.5k, G) Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Coda to Mystery Spot.

non-wincest fic.

dean/omc. We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon (2010, 43k, M, warning: death) They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.

dean/cas: terror & desire intertwined by rupertgayes (2022, 39k, M) Faced with Castiel suffering a fate worse than death, Dean makes the decision to let Cas use his body as a temporary vessel. All things considered, Dean thinks, it could have gone worse.

gen, sam&dean: what lasts by deadlybride (2021, 17.2k, M) Not long after they move into the bunker, Dean loses a leg. Most of a leg. After the hospital, Sam brings him home, and they figure out how to live with what remains.

gen, dean-centric: To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 (2015, 3.1k, T) Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.

dean/michael: our hour came round at last by orphan_account (2015, 1.8k, NR, pwp) "I want to be inside you," says Michael, low and velvet and hungry and that really shouldn't turn Dean on but it does.

dean/lucifer, dean/cas: exploratory by sp8ce (2022, 4.9k, E, non-con) One night, Castiel proposes he and Dean have sex. Except it's a little more complicated than that.

dean/cas: for a healthy heart by Askance (2013, 2.4k, T) A strange black box appears in Castiel's bedroom one afternoon.

gen, sam&dean: charmer & gentle by Askance (2015, 3.7k, G, outsider pov) The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

dean/cas, past sam/dean: whose wings, though tattered, shall carry me home by fleshflutter (2009, 2.2k, T) There is a breeze moving across the field. It stirs the long grass in lapping waves like the sea. Castiel runs his fingertips through it and remembers flying.

#asks #fanfic #wincest #whatever it is #anon i have you to thank for getting me back into spn fic <3 i've been rereading some of these over the past few days #i was going to post this for ww yesterday but i fell asleep :( so here you go now sdfksdfh

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monarcascension · 2 years ago

Text

louder than bombs | y.h

summary : You and Yunho’s relationship was a complicated one. But not as complicated as the relationship you both shared with Choi San, your “ex” and his ex-best friend. After ending things with him years ago, you and Yunho embarked on a situationship of your own, however things between you begin to spiral out of control putting your relationship in danger. Will your feelings for each other help you salvage what you have? Or will you lose him forever?

pairings: jeong yunho x fem!reader

tags: MINORS DNI, nsfw, smut warning, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, guided masturbation, domxsub, creampie, violence, blood warning, vulgar language, sensual language, sex talk, rough sex ♡

*DISCLAIMER : This story is mainly for entertainment purposes. This is not a representation of the artists themselves or their actual personalities and is only created to be a work of fiction. Their actions are only for storytelling and literary purposes.*

[ AVOID SPOILERS — READ PART 1 HERE ] ㋛㋛㋛

[ User Tags: @simeonswhore @hopetiger10 ]

word count: 13K

——

Regret was like a vicious toxin. Eroding you from the inside out until there was nothing left other than the thought of what could have been. Desperate clings to the paths you chose not to take prior. Ever since San, you lived with many of them. You wished you never met him. You had a desire to rewind time and make it so he was never a part of your life to begin with. You were tired of being tangled in all of this pain that his selfishness had caused you, but you loathe yourself for letting it get this far.

Now to add onto the declaration list of your compunctions, you stood in disbelief from what you just let slip out of your mouth to the man you had previously shared a piece of your heart with.

“I…I think I fell in love with Yunho.”

The sentence looped in your head; echoing like bats trying to echolocate their way through a dark cave. Those were words that you never thought you would ever utter to yourself, let alone anybody else. You swore free from the spell of “love” or whatever those feelings meant to you, and kept them under a stiff lock and key even from Yunho who you had grown into this semi-functional situationship with. The two of you, however, had a deal. You both were aware of what you were stepping into when you decided to share a bed that night—making it clear that feelings would never be involved in what you had. It kept things from being complicated between you— the one barrier that protected you both from one another, from the disappointment that could be brought on from any physical adventure— had been ruined because of you.

Because you decided to fall in love yet again.

Your heart was thumping so roughly against the cage of your chest that it was beginning to pierce skin. Your forehead was moist with beaded sweat. You wiped it away, curious to know if it was from the immoral activities the two of you had just finished, or from the anxiety you felt at what his response could possibly be. The silence was too much for you to bear so you cleared your throat, hoping to subtract from the awkwardness.

All you could hear was his rough, ragged breath intermingling with your broken sighs. You were too scared to look at him, afraid of what might reflect back at you if you did. The sudden need to explain yourself arised, feeling it to be your responsibility to mitigate whatever hurt you had just caused. But what could you possibly say to fix everything? Words weren’t enough in this instance.

Your brain finally cleared from the high you were on, giving you full autonomy over your thoughts. “San I-” You stammered, but a hand and a low tone hushed you within moments.

“You… love him?.” His voice was calm, but his words were harsh. Deserved at the least. “So, why did you kiss me? Why did we just do anything that we just did?”

The last thing you ever though you would do if you saw him again was fuck him the first chance you got. You believed that it was the guilt of knowing that you could never love San the way he wanted you to. Engulfed in the inability to properly explain what it was that you felt with words, you said with action. Though, it may have been the wrong action considering the circumstances. The realization that the two of you never shared a real emotional connection and could only communicate through physical means was the main source of your confusing relationship with him. One thing you learned however was that sex didn’t always mean love or an invitation into something serious. Sometimes sex was just that. Sex. Sometimes it was a physical love letter. Sometimes it was a goodbye.

You wished you would have discovered that sooner rather than now.

You swallowed a clump of saliva in your throat and moved away from the door that you both were propped up against. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want, San.”

San scoffed at that comment. “You can’t? Or you’d rather give it to someone else?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, running your fingers over your forehead like you were trying to make sure your brain was still there and functioning. “This was a mistake.”

You paced the bathroom floor. The words sounded more heartless and cruel leaving your mouth than it sounded in your head.

You fetched your phone and purse that clattered to the floor and tucked them underneath your arm, striding over to the bathroom sink to fix whatever damage your look had undergone.

Your lipstick had smudged a bit because of the inopportune display of affection, and you quickly fixed it with a facial wipe that was tucked inside the depths of your bag. You readjusted yourself; affixed your dress straps back into place and refluffed your hair until you looked a little better than you had moments ago. It wasn’t the same but it would do for now. The final touch was just masking the scent of sex that was practically etched into your skin with the perfume that you always carried with you. Your hair would hide the light bruise on your neck that San left from canvassing your flesh with his mouth.

“Wow.” He sounded hurt. You could not blame him. “ A mistake, huh? So, you're saying you still felt something for me— was that a mistake too?”

“Look, this is too complicated for either of us. It always has been, and I think we have collectively had enough complicated relationships to last us a lifetime.” You inhaled with a sharp breath. “Let's just end it. Once and for all—on a good note this time.”

“No, this isn’t complicated for me.” San stood to his feet now, tugging on the dress shirt he had on to straighten it back out again. “This is complicated for you.”

“I don’t want to fight about this, San. Just drop it.”

He continued anyway. “Am I wrong? You’re confused. You don’t know what you want! Who you want.”

You didn’t bother to look at him directly, only stared at the silhouette of his figure in the corner of the mirror. There was a noise rising in your throat, breaking through your closed lips and out into the air. You started to laugh.

“What? You wanted me to choose you? After everything you put me through.” You chuckled again. “You’re out of your damn mind. I’d rather be with someone who actually knows how to love me.”

“Love you?” San snickered. “You don’t know Yunho as well as you think you do, if you believe he’s actually capable of loving you. Believe me when I say, he’s not the guy you think he is.”

You almost gave yourself whiplash from the force of the twirl as you turned to look at San, shooting an incredulous look at him. What was that supposed to mean? You’ve spent years being around Yunho and he was just as sweet and gentle as he had always been. He was caring and open and.. you wanted to believe that the stream of affections that he had shown you came from somewhere deep down. Came from him possibly loving you. At least you hoped.

“And you think you’re better? You think you know everything, San, but you don’t. We didn't want any of this, it just h-”

“Happened. Right?” He finished your words like they were his own.

The two of you stared at one another. You could feel the heat rising to your face, your skin– although burning with the anger that was manifesting– felt cold.

“You say you love him and he loves you, blah blah blah, but what do you think he’ll do when he finds out what happened between us?” San said with a sneer.

All you could do was stare at him for a moment. Your eyes darted around his figure wildly, trying to reveal whatever secret meaning was behind his words. Or was it a threat? You tried not to think of that possibility as you turned back to face the mirror, focused on the goal that you were trying to achieve. You heard some minor shuffling from behind you, but paid no mind to it. The bathroom door squeaked open with a shrill, and you awaited the moments that the door closed, telling you that San was gone, but it never came. There was the loud chatter from outside where the rest of the party was, and the classical music being played from the live band.

Then he spoke again. “I was really hoping things would be different between us this time, but I guess you chose the wrong guy to love, again. Right?”

You paused for a moment, sitting on the last words that San left you with before he walked out of the bathroom— leaving you completely and utterly alone. Again. That simple word stung you more than you were willing to admit; feeling almost uncomfortable in your own skin as the sentence dug deeper into your flesh causing you to writhe and shift in place. However, he was right.

What did you really know about love anyway except the part of it that hurt the most? How would you know if Yunho was really even the right one to love you in the first place? What if you couldn’t love him as you say you did? Stuck in the perpetual cycle of pain all over again because of an inadequacy that you lacked within yourself. You loved San once, didn’t you? Wasn’t everything you put yourself through with him for the sake of love? Or was it something else? So many questions clouded your brain, it was overwhelming. You could not answer them all at once, for the answers never offered themselves to you in the first place.

Everything you thought you knew, came crumbling down in a matter of seconds, leaving a wake of unregistered feelings and unsolved emotional turmoils.

You spent the better part of the last four years in anguish over San. That night you found him in the arms of another woman, haunted you. The words “I love you” hurt you more than they healed you, carving a wound so deep in your heart that you felt it would never mend itself. You despised those words, and could never bring yourself to say them. Questioning yourself on what love really is all over again.

플래시백

You loved Seoul Forest Park. In fact, other than Namsan, this was the park you visited more frequently. It was more peaceful. Your sacred place. However, this is the first time you came with someone else, and the atmosphere was just as calm and serene as you had left it months ago. The trees dance in a contemporary style swaying elegantly in the wind, telling a story of their place in this reserve. The leaves shuffled against one another, forming the instruments for the performance; since it was coming upon the Spring, they were just as bright and healthy as you could have hoped. The sky was a pale blue, brushed with sparse, but fluffy clouds overhead. The sun hid its blinding rays behind the tufts of white that passed over it, protecting both you and Yunho from the unforgiving heat.

The two of you were sitting at the pond, surrounded with beautiful stone tablets. Some of them even crossed the water like a small bridge. Yunho was skipping rocks that he found nearby, while you watched a family of ducks run across the stone with its brigade of ducklings. One of them fell into the water clumsily. You smiled more happily than you usually would have at the sight as the other babies attempted to stick their stout beaks into the water to help their sibling up. The mother took notice and tried to see what the commotion was about. You giggled a bit to yourself, but possibly louder than you thought. Yunho perked up and followed your gaze to find the source of your laughter.

“Have you ever had a duck before?” He asked you, quite randomly.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, but readjusted to engage in the sudden conversation. “No, not as a pet, but.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to recall your childhood. “Since I used to live by a bigger lake, we saw a lot of ducks come and go. My dad and I used to feed them together.”

“They’re funny little things, but they always seem to be on the move— never stay in one place too long.” There seemed to be something that Yunho wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. So, he continued. “I used to have one named Oli. I feel like he only used me for my bread, but he was a real pal. I think I missed a Summer seeing him since I was inside playing video games most of the time, and he was probably expecting me to come and feed him, but I forgot… never saw him again after that. I wonder where he is now.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, shaking your head in that same disappointed manner you always did and laughed against your will. “Maybe those are his kids.”

Yunho grinned and laughed, considering the possibility. “Maybe, but those ducks don’t have his feathers.”

You chuckled and sighed all in the same breath. “It feels so easy for animals to just pick up and move on after being disappointed. I’m jealous of Oli.”

Yunho smiled at you for a moment. His gaze shifted towards the grassy slope you both sat on, twiddling with the blades at his side. “Yeah, I probably really let him down, but I don’t think it’s that easy for them to move on. When you spend a lot of time in one place, you get accustomed to it. If I was Oli, I would like coming home to that nest or that pond everyday, but then have to pick up and move again every winter? That’d be so bothersome. So, if I was used to getting fed at one house and then have to find another? I’d be pretty pissed.”

You thought about his words, piecing together whatever analogy he was trying to prove in your head. You looked over again at the family of ducks only to find them now swimming in the pond together.

Yunho spoke up again after clearing his throat. “What I’m trying to say is: moving on isn’t easy for anyone or anything. It’s a process, and it takes time. Maybe Oli was disappointed in me for not being there, but overtime, I know he found something else. He never stopped moving just because he was hurt by someone.”

Your eyes stayed latched on the duck family that paddled around the lake in a circle. Always moving and still enjoying it. You let a deep breath escape you. “Moving on can be lonely sometimes, though. At least they have each other.”

Yunho nodded, looking out at the vast sea of green grass and trees on the other side of the lake. “It can be. Nobody said you always had to do it alone, though. Birds and ducks and things like that, they're not always alone when they move down South. They always have people that love them by their side, so why can't we?”

You glanced over at Yunho, looking at the small squint in his eyes as he gazed up at the sky; trying to shield himself from looking directly at the sun that was beginning to peak from behind the clouds. His once pink hair had now faded into a light blonde, blowing messily across his forehead. He caught your gaze and stared back at you. That goofy grin pulling at his lips as you turned away shyly; the both of you sharing a brief laugh.

“What?” He asked. “You were staring at me first. I can't look at you?”

“It’s not that.” You chuckled, pulling your lips into your teeth for a moment. “Just trying to figure out when you got so philosophical.”

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.” He started moving closer to you. His hands reached up towards your face and used the knuckle of his finger to brush a stray piece of your hair from your forehead.

You only watched him, being sure to not make any wayward movements. His eyes searched your face intently, trying to glean some kind of answer from you. “The one thing you should know though, is that I’m always going to be here with you.”

His fingers caressed down your cheek, stopping at your chin. That same, singular finger tilted your head upwards and pulled you into a soft kiss. Your relationship with him was still confusing, but you never questioned it. It was merely yours. No one else's. No one had to define what you were. You just… were.

Your lips curled up into a smile once Yunho backed away from you. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, rocking yourself over to the side until you landed flush against Yunho. Your head tucked just underneath his chin. He adjusted himself closer to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

The two of you didn’t say anything else while you sat there engulfed in one another. Ever since that night the two of you shared, Yunho had not left your side. Of course, he would still give you the space you needed, but when the two of you were together. It really was just the two of you. When he held you like this, you took in the comforting fragrance he had on— smelling similar to apple— and would fall into him with ease. Yunho always possessed this calming energy about him and that's always how you felt. You loved and cherished every moment you spent with him.

There was a warmness growing in your chest. That deep, bleeding, gash that San left on your heart slowly began to close.

계속하다

You had to find Yunho. Your mind slipped the fact that he had miraculously disappeared into the thicket of the party. Jamie also had to be confused as to where you went, considering you had been gone for almost twenty minutes with no correspondence. You checked your phone as you exited the bathroom, hoping for something. Jamie had texted you asking where you were and you quickly responded, telling her that you simply got lost in the magnitude of the hall. But nothing from Yunho.

I’ll undo the lie later. Sorry, Jamie. You said to yourself, clicking off the device and stumbling back into the party. It was just as lively as you had left it, but urgency filled the air instead of the fun you were promised. All you wanted to do was find Yunho and get out of here, and put this whole shit show behind you. So, you continued your search. This time, you called out for him.

You searched the perimeter first. You only found big wigs with their companions sitting at round dining tables with their share of dinner and drink. The ballroom floor was not as crowded now as many had found seats to sit in and were engaging in conversation elsewhere, giving you enough space to trek forward without bumping into anyone.

“Yunho!” You called out, fruitlessly. No answer. You searched amongst the semi-sparse group in the area. Seeing no familiar faces yet. The live band was drowning you out this close up. It would be impossible for anyone that happened to be out of earshot to hear you.

But then a voice called out to you. “Hey! Over here.”

You spun around quickly, a few groups away was Mingi. He raised his drink high in the sky so you could see him and his black and blonde streaked hair, and you sighed in relief. Happy to see a friendly face, even if it wasn’t the one you were hoping for. Beside him were Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho. Wooyoung and Veronica were missing and- Your heart caved, but rose again from the elated feeling as your eyes landed on the tall blonde.

“Yunho.” you murmured softly.

You quickly made your way over to them, saying your pardons to those who were in the way and squished yourself between the rather large group of men that you had come to call your friends. “Hey everyone. It’s good to see you, y’all look great.”

“So do you. You look like you’ve been running a marathon, though.” Seonghwa said, looking at the guys.

“Yeah, are you alright?” Yunho cooed softly, more concerned.

No. “Yeah! I was just um… Yunho. I’ve been looking for you, everywhere. We think we’re going to head out.”

“Already?” Yunho looked at his watch. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Well-“

“I hope y’all aren't skipping out so soon!” A voice chimed a little bit away from where you stood. “The party’s just getting started.”

A hand clapped around Yunho and Yeosang’s shoulder suddenly and his head jerked to the side to see San rounding around the man’s tall figure. Wooyoung in toe with a jovial grin on his face. Everyone in the group, including you, shifted uncomfortably where they were standing. They were fine when he was with them earlier, laughing and joking like everything was peachy, but that changed now that you were with them. They all knew.

You and Yunho exchanged brief glances before he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “San.”

He sounded agitated; trying to mask it behind that smooth and cool voice of his. You never really questioned him about his relationship with San. Nor did you ever ask him. You knew he always hung around the guys regardless of if he was there, but the only thing you knew about their situation was that Yunho had moved out with Yeosang a few months prior and San, Seonghwa, and Mingi all lived together now.

“Good to see you, buddy! It’s been a while. You look good. Nice suit.” San almost sounded believable, if it weren’t for the fact that you knew he was pissed at both of you.

Yunho looked at you again, and you stared back at him practically mortified. He squinted at you looking for answers.

Is he the reason you wanted to leave? Yunho seemed to ask through eyes alone.

San didn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence yet, but he knew you were there. He only looked at Yunho, who was trying his best to ignore him. Seonghwa stepped forward towards San, placing a hand on his shoulder like he had done Yunho, and spoke low into his ear, trying to tug him away at the same time. San brushed him off almost instantly.

“Nah, Nah, Nah. Wooyoung and I already had a drink. Three, actually.” He said, trying to recount the number in his head. “Oh! I saw Jamie over there too. She did not look happy to see me. Didn’t even say a word. I would have loved to catch up with her. We were friends once, just like Yunho and I. Right bud?”

He smacked him on the back, and Yunho only shifted slightly in his spot. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, annoyed. Upset. The others looked amongst each other, confused at what was going on, but they knew better than anybody.

“Alright, that's enough.” Yunho said, straightening himself, rising to his full height as he shrugged out of San’s grasp. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe we should get out of here too.” Yeosang chimed up, trying to keep that happy smile he usually possessed. “We have something to do tomorrow morning anyway.”

The group all spoke in agreement with the statement, trying to shift out of the group with San, but he resisted. Suddenly, another body joined the commotion. You looked beside you to see Jamie looking wary of the situation. She looked to you and then Yunho, seeing the visible distress on your faces.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Jamie’s voice was almost in a whisper. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later.” You reached out to Yunho and grabbed the crest of his arm. “Yunho. Let’s just go.”

“It would be really nice if we all had a chance to catch up, really.” San continued. He seemed happy, but his face was just flushed with red and his eyelids lower than before. It was clear that he had drunk much more than he said. But he was coherent enough to cause problems as always.

San finally looked over at you and shivers ran down your spine. He smiled, “You and I did enough catching up. Don’t you think?”

Your stomach turned. Yunho glanced over at you and then back at San. “I think it’s best if you listen to the guys. You need to go.”

“Tell him. We had a lot of fun catching up a little bit ago didn’t we?” San took a step towards you and Yunho quickly intervened. His frame towering over the both of you, and all you could see was the way he glared at San.

The vein on the side of his neck wriggled beneath his skin. San did not shy from him though. Whatever liquor was running through his system had made him brazen and unafraid. The smile that lined San’s face had dwindled like the flame of a candle at the end of its wax. He took one courageous step up to Yunho who kept his eyes on him the entire time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried to pull him back. Jongho told him it wasn’t a good idea and encouraged him to leave, but he shrugged off all resistance. Yunho was unwavering in his defense. You anxiously looked between the two of them and your body moved before your mouth did.

“Yunho. Come on, let’s just go home.” You tried to reach out for him again, but Jamie pulled you back, catching you by the arm.

You looked back to see her sternly shaking her head. The people beside you were beginning to gawk in your direction, whispering to each other about the sudden fuss.

San stepped up to him again until they were mere inches apart. “Yunho. Yunho. Yunho.” He mocked. “Everybody just thinks you’re the greatest guy. Jeong Yunho: can’t ever do any wrong. Can he? But they don’t know, do they?”

Everyone looked around nervously. Your palms were beginning to feel moist with sweat. Your heart pounding against your chest; out of its usual steady rhythm. Jamie even perked up at the comment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho snipped.

San’s hand came in contact with Yunho’s shoulder and he pushed him back with just a few of his fingers. Yunho barely budged, his shoulder falling out of its original place before stiffening back. San took another step. “Tell them.”

Hongjoong stepped in, gripping San’s shoulder. “San, man. Don’t cause a scene.”

San ignored him, shaking free of his hold. “Tell them, Yunho.” San had more bass in his voice now. He pushed him again. The look in his eye was almost evil. He pushed Yunho back again, this time Yunho took a step behind him as he did.

San tried to press him again, but Yunho wrapped his large hands around his wrist, stopping him in midair. You could see the pain lurch onto San’s face for a moment as his nose twitched. Yunho bared his teeth and got closer to him, squeezing his fist around his arm. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking hand.”

“Tough guy. Then you’re brave enough to admit that you’ve been fucking the girl I loved behind my back. All of our backs.”

Yunho looked over to you for a moment. There was a brief panic in his eyes, but he hid it well enough. You wanted to help him, but San was relentless. Still, Yunho said nothing, standing firm against San’s sudden aggression.

“So what if I am?” You shuddered. Everyone’s eyes turned to you suddenly. Including Jamie. You could feel her green eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“What?!” Jamie said, “You two- is he serious? Is he telling the truth?”

You turned to her, tears beginning to line your eyes. You couldn’t bring the sound out, so you mouthed “I'm sorry.”

Yunho threw down San’s hand. Seeing him reeling for a moment. “Happy now?”

He started walking away from him, seemingly unfazed, but by the look on his face you could tell that he felt bad for putting the both of you on the spot. Neither of you wanted it to come out this way mere moments from being in your arms again.

San smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, bud. We’re not the only ones who fucked someone else behind someone’s back.” He turned to look at you this time. “Isn’t that right?”

Yunho looked back at him, following San’s mischievous gaze directly to you. Fear overtook you. Your face fluttered with shame as you watched the realization hit him on what happened. He knows. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Let me tell ya’. She tastes just as good as I remembered-“

A few heavy gasps filled the room. Shocked and frightened shrieks left you and Jamie’s mouths as Yunho’s fist cracked across San’s jaw. Completely knocking him off balance. He was so fast that you hadn’t even noticed Yunho lunge at him in the first place. Before you or the guys could scramble to stop either of them from retaliating further, San was already recovering from the punch. He spat out blood that had gathered in his mouth from the sudden appearance of a cut on his lip. He turned on his toes, dealing back the same blow to Yunho’s face despite his size. The hit was much more vicious, sending crimson spattering across his cheek. But he did not stop. He swung blind again. Yunho was fast but San was faster. He stepped back just in time. The crowd backed away as well, scared of the fight ensuing.

“Guys, enough!” You screamed out but they hadn’t heard you, or they did but just didn’t care.

The two of them were scrapping like they were in the streets. One punch more lethal than the last. The once beautifully polished floor was now ruined with the droplets and spatters of their blood. And they didn’t stop, despite the efforts of their friends trying to pull them off of one another. Yeosang and Jongho grabbed desperately at the back of Yunho’s suit. Seonghwa and Mingi tried to grab San. Wooyoung was in the middle and tried to pull them both apart with the help of Hongjoong, but they didn’t budge. It was chaos. They were yelling and the people were screaming, but drawing closer to see the fight while others fled. Somehow Yunho had toppled over San. He straddled him, dealing blow after blow. San tried to fight back but to no avail. You couldn’t watch this anymore.

You fought out of Jamie’s hold on you and rushed into the middle. You moved Hongjoong aside just in time before Yunho cocked his hand back.

Both of your hands latched around his forearm and you pulled. “Yunho stop!”

Yunho quickly craned his neck back to see who had grabbed him. He was completely blinded by rage that he hadn’t even noticed it was you for a second. His cheek had been cut and was bleeding. His bottom lip was also split and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. His hair was a slight mess, leaving a few strands dangling in his face, stuck to his forehead from sweat.

You reached out to touch his face, brushing across his cheek lightly coming in contact with the blood that was dripping. “Please.”

His vision slightly began to clear as the scowl he had on his face diminished and his breathing slowed. Someone came pushing their way through the crowd at that moment. You were sure someone called the police, but it was a lone woman in a long, gold ball gown style dress. Dark hair fell down her slender shoulders and there was a look of annoyance on her face.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Veronica boomed.

She looked down at San who was sputtering and laughing all the same, Yunho who was pulling himself off of him, standing beside you weakly. And then over at you. Veronica’s eyes sparked between yours for a moment and you could see understanding in them. Not empathy, but a realization that this was somehow your fault, which wasn’t too far off in hindsight. All you didn’t calculate was that they would start fistfighting in the middle of the ballroom. Veronica moved over to San, dropping even elegantly, beside him to see how badly he was hurt.

Yunho wiped the blood from his lip with his own thumb before turning to Veronica. “Nice party.” He said before slinking away into the crowd that parted ways for him.

You looked down at San who also watched him leave, trying to sit up slowly on the floor with Veronica and Wooyoung’s help. Bright red bruises were all over his face.

“You were so tired of being miserable alone that you had to bring everybody else down with you. Well, congratulations, San. Now we’re even.”

Jamie rested a hand on the side of your arm, pulling you back the way Yunho had gone. “Come on, he isn’t worth it.”

“Yeah… he isn’t.” You and Jamie followed after Yunho, sure not to lose him again this time.

You had never seen Yunho so angry before. You’ve never seen him snap like that much less hurt anyone in the process. Especially someone he once called a friend. He simply just exploded. Your mind was beginning to run with everything you had heard about Yunho up until this point; trying to comb over every moment you spent together to see if you missed something—anything— that could make his impulsive aggression make sense.

There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.

Believe me when I say: he’s not the guy you think he is.

Did you really miss something? You shook the thought from your mind and continued to chase after him, following his figure as he made his way outside. Jamie called after him, but he didn't stop. His current state was earning him some terrified sideways glances from passersby who were curiously heading inside to see what all the racket was. Yunho had not stopped his trek until he reached the valet who rushed off as soon as he came.

Yunho was pacing back and forth in the still night. The heels of his shoes clicked across the stony pathway as his hands rubbed across his face. You could see now the red marks that were on his knuckles. Some were minorly scraped, but most of them had dark wounds on them. If they would have undergone any more damage, they would have started bleeding even worse. You were happy that you stepped in when you did.

“Are you okay?” You said in a soft whisper as if you were afraid of awakening a beast of some kind.

“I’m fine..” His voice was almost as soft as yours, but without emotion.

“M-Maybe we should go to a hospital or something. Those cuts can get infected.” Jamie suggested.

You nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah. Maybe that’s best. Are you sure you're-”

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. You and Jamie instinctively took a step back. He had never raised his voice at either of you and you could tell that he instantly regretted it, but the anger was still there so he didn't think to apologize for any of it.

“This is my fault.” You spoke up, putting your face in your hands as you plopped down on the steps of the hall. “This wasn't supposed to happen. I’m so stupid.”

Jamie went to comfort you, rubbing her hands across your backside.

“I wasn’t supposed to find out, you mean?” Yunho interjected, his words accusatory.

Lifting your head from your palms you looked at him. He had stopped pacing around now, only stood gawking at you. He looked extremely disappointed, hurt, angry. At you. At San. Probably the world. You deflated on the steps.

“No.. that’s not what I-”

“Do you still love him?” He asked suddenly.

“No!” You said defensively. “No. Of course not.”

“So, you just had sex with him for old times’ sake? Jesus..” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. You sank further.

“Yunho, calm down.” Jamie said. “Let's just hear her out.”

“I’m not hearing anything worth listening to.” Yunho scoffed in disbelief at their current circumstance. “I can't believe this..”

“We just ran into each other while I was looking for you! Everything happened so fast, I wasn't thinking. We were talking, and things got heated, and-” You slowed yourself, trying to gather the right words. “and it happened. I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn't think he would blow up like that after I-”

“After you what?”

Yunho and Jamie had given you their full attention. They were looking at you expectantly, waiting on the next part of your story. Something that would be the final puzzle piece to the mystery of how this whole thing started in the first place. Your eyes found Yunho’s; wet with your tears. You tried to blink them away, but they stung as they fell down your cheeks. You licked them off with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of them.

“After we were done talking… I told him about us.” You said, your voice cracking under the weight. “I told him that I didn’t love him. I couldn't.” Your eyes dropped from Yunho’s, looking into your lap while you toyed with the fabric of your dress. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Both Yunho and Jamie looked at you, eyes wide. Yunho appeared like he was going to speak, but was stopped by the valet who pulled up in his vehicle. The man walked around the car and hesitantly handed the keys to Yunho and stepped away back to his post. Yunho fuddled with the keys in his grasp and tossed them over to Jamie who fumbled them for a moment, but righted herself.

“Why are you giving these to me?” She tilted her head to the side like a bewildered puppy.

“I need to clear my head. You two can head to the house. I’ll pick the car up later.” His tone was more commanding than anything. He started to walk away and you stood to your feet.

“Yunho, come on! We can just talk about this at home.” You pleaded, sounding more desperate than you wanted to, knowing that his leaving was your fault.

“We’ll talk later. Maybe.”

He walked without another word around the line of cars that wrapped around the building. The darkness engulfed his figure until he was completely out of sight. You felt a pain form in your chest; having to catch yourself to breathe through the discomfort. The feeling you felt was similar to someone snatching a stool out from underneath your feet when it was all you had to keep you balanced. A sound louder than tearing metal as you heard your heart shatter into pieces—the same heart that he had helped you mend, had also been destroyed by him. If it weren’t for Jamie who held onto you dutifully, you would have collapsed right there in the dirt. Physically and emotionally exhausted from the night.

Jamie softly touched your arm and motioned for the car. “He’ll be okay, let’s go home.”

The car ride was silent for the most part other than the late night radio that played at a considerably low volume. Your head rested on your arm whilst you stared out the passengers’ side window, letting the wind from outside brush against the dry tear stains on your cheeks. The buildings you drove by whipped past, their shapes melting into one another. Their lights were only blinding for a moment, but it was better than staring down at your phone and hoping that you would get a message from Yunho.

Occasionally, Jamie would peer over to look at you. Maybe afraid that you would take your previous jokes of jumping out of the car in the middle of the freeway more seriously this time. Though, it wasn't something you hadn’t considered. There was so much that you wanted to say to Jamie, but you didn’t know where to start. You knew she was curious, but she didn’t press you for information even against her better judgment.

“Hey.” She started. “About… what happened back there? I hope you don’t blame yourself for all of that. You can’t control people’s actions ya’ know.”

“It was my fault anyway. I provoked San. I… slept with him. What happened between them is because of me.” You admitted, your gut wrenching at the words.

“You didn’t know he would try and pick a fight with him though. Plus, he was drunk. I don’t even think he’ll remember any of it. Well, with the way Yunho left him, maybe he will in the morning.” Jamie sighed, stopping briefly at a red light. “Look, I don’t know how you feel right now in great detail and maybe I’ll never get it, but don’t let this bury you. I’m sad that you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this— believe me I’m shocked, but not as shocked as you think. I just wouldn’t have figured that everything with you and Yunho had gotten as far as it had. I knew he liked you from before San, but-“

You perked up. Turning around to face Jamie in your seat. “He what?”

“He didn’t tell you? Whoops..” Jamie gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, you kind of already did! He liked me before San?” You prodded for more information.

“Look, hey! I don’t know all the details, but I was friends with Yunho before you, so naturally we told each other everything. Then, when you came along, he didn’t say much, but he told me he liked you. A LOT. Then when you met everyone else, including San, well… the rest was history.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You blurted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having sex with him?!” Jamie bit back.

You slinked back into your seat. “Fair point. I’m sorry about all of this Jamie. I really wanted to tell you everything from the beginning. It was just so much to unpack, I didn’t know what to say.”

Jamie let out a soft breath through her nose, gearing up the car again as the light changed to green and continued driving down the street.

“I’m not mad at you. More left out, I guess. Trust me, I don’t need to know that two of my best friends were bumping uglies and how or where, but a little heads up would have sufficed.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry…” You reached your hand out towards Jamie’s hand and grabbed ahold of it. “You’re my best friend. You always have my back, and I’m grateful for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. So, what are you going to do about Yunho?”

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me now.”

“He could never hate you. Maybe he just needs time for now. Don’t give up on him, that boy can’t live without you.”

You nodded and turned to look out the window. “Yeah..I hope so.”

계속하다

Two months later…

Work was just as tedious as always. The boss was getting on your nerves about some paperwork you had already filed a month ago, but he never bothered to check and probably lost it. It was getting late now, you and a few of your other co-workers had been the last stragglers and all you wanted to do was finish up the work you needed so that you could get home. You and Jamie had planned to meet up for dinner at a local tteokbokki spot that you had yet to try, but she was still stuck in Jinju for business. So, you decided to pick up some extra hours at work as well.

You clicked away on your keyboard; unmotivated and robotic in your approach to the case file you were working on. You took steady sips of your energy drink, which was probably a bad idea in the grand scope of things but that was how you got things done nowadays. You barely slept ever since that night, and you couldn’t work well otherwise so you depended on energy shots and caffeine to keep you alert.

Your phone chimed suddenly and you almost knocked over your tumbler cup trying to retrieve it. You scrambled for stability, dropping your head as a relieved, but anxious sigh exited your mouth. Righting the cup, you hurriedly checked your phone only to see a message from some clothing company you shopped at before text you about a new sale. Disappointed, you went to your other message threads, scrolling to his name, which wasn’t far down. Tapping on it, you saw all of the messages you had sent him over the last two months since that night, but there was never an answer. Some of the messages in the beginning were paragraphs, some short and some long. You apologized to him over and over wanting to explain everything. Some were you lashing out in frustration over the fact that he wouldn’t answer you or give you the time of day. The lengths of your text to him dwindled over time. You messaged him about festivals in the area, movies that were coming out soon, or video games you think he would be interested in. You sent texts wishing him well. Texts asking how he was. Still nothing.

Jamie tried to keep you hopeful, telling you that he was just busy traveling or work got in the way, but you knew the truth: he was done with you. Your last message to him was a week ago.

I’m really sorry for everything, Yunho. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I want to fix it. I miss you, but if you don’t feel the same then…I don’t blame you. I’m sorry again, but I don’t think I can go without you anymore. I guess this is goodbye.

Just reading it again felt like someone was using your heart as target practice and you quickly swiped out of the message. You didn’t expect him to forgive you for what happened, at least not right away. But you had not expected complete radio silence either. The way you two had left things wasn’t ideal, and you desperately wanted to fix them with him, but he just wouldn’t let you. Like you said before, you couldn’t blame him for the way things were now. You just wished they were different.

You finished up the last of your work and printed everything out, stuffing it in a manila folder and depositing it in the mailbox on your boss's door for him to check in the morning. You gathered your things and tidied up your workspace. You could do your timesheet later when you were home, you just wanted to get out of here. Saying your goodbyes to your coworkers, you stepped out of the office and took the elevator down to the base floor.

The security guard was mainly the only one in the area, watching over the front desk. The two of you said your goodbyes as well as you stepped out into the night air of Seoul. There was a small trickle of rain, but you weren’t bothered by it too much. You jogged to the end of the street corner and raised your hand for an oncoming taxi to take you home. Once he stopped for you, you climbed inside and let him drive off, telling him your desired destination.

You followed your new set routine with Jamie and let her know that you were leaving work and heading home. Since you two were primarily separated these days for work, it was a good update strategy. She answered within minutes.

제이미

Be safe. Wont be home until tomorrow! Know you didn’t eat anything so I ordered you food. Should be outside by the time you get there. enjoyyyyy ♡

You smiled down at your phone and thanked her. You don’t know what you would do without Jamie. She was probably your only constant in this ever changing world and you loved her for it.

The ride lasted another fifteen minutes and you were outside of your apartment building. You slid the driver cash and thanked him before getting out of the car. The rain was starting to pick up, so you placed your bag over your head and ran to the entryway. You punched in your apartment code and the door buzzed, granting you entry into the nicely decorated and warm foyer. There was a large front desk where two people sat watching monitors. A single overhead chandelier illuminated the space around you in a bright orange, and there was a white carpet that stopped just halfway info the center of the room. The ones at the front desk greeted you kindly as you passed, slightly damp from the oncoming storm, walking further into the building where the first four sets of elevators were for your wing. You pressed the button to go up to the tenth floor and waited as the elevator came down from its last stop. When the machine chimed, the doors opened and a few people stepped off leaving you to enter the elevator alone, which you didn’t mind.

You just had another large space to yourself. The elevator rose higher and higher and you watched each floor change one after another. Finally, the tenth floor came and you skipped off of it. You walked down the hall, spotting your door, which was just in the center. The stairwell was not far from it, and you were reminded that you should start using the stairs more often. There was also a man leaning over the railing, jet black hair blinding you from his face. He had on a dark coat and rings, and looked like he was in deep thought, letting his thumb toy with his body lip. You didn’t really pay him any mind, but you didn’t recognize him either. Probably just another tenant. You came to stop at your door where a bag of food was laid at the foot of the wood. You bent over to pick it up and punched in the alarm lock pin. The door’s mechanism whirred and disjointed. You pushed down the handle to enter and stopped at the sound of your name. Startled, you whipped around. The man had turned around to face you, an anxious glance in his eyes. Your irises adjusted on his face for a moment and your heart dropped into the pits of your stomach.

“Yunho?” You almost had not recognized him without his blonde hair. It threw you for a moment, but more so that he was at your front door. “I didn’t know it was you, you look different.”

“In the flesh..” He straightened himself and cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Irritation grew in you. “Now you want to talk to me?” You spoke roughly. You didn’t mean to give him an attitude, but a part of you wasn’t sorry for it. He had ghosted you for two months and now he wanted to talk about that night?

“Please.” He said. It sounded more like he was commanding you, than requesting you even in that soft voice of his.

You stared at him and sighed, defeated. You couldn’t be upset at him, no matter how angry you were deep down. You turned and opened the door, setting your things down on the table in the hall and motioned him to step in. He did so without hesitation, walking slowly into the apartment like he hadn’t been here a thousand times over. The both of you kicked off your shoes and you closed the door behind him, letting the air thicken with the sudden tension. It was so thick that it was almost impenetrable. You felt uncomfortable walking around your own home.

You offered him something to drink, but he declined. He instead took off his thick coat, revealing a black short sleeve shirt with some design on it that you could not fully make out. A gold chain was hidden behind the collar that went up to his neck and now glimmered in the light overhead. You walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it, Yunho sat on the back of the couch, rather uncomfortably due to his long legs, but stayed there anyway.

“I’m sorry for popping up unannounced. I should have told you, but..” He folded his arms. “I had just come off a flight, and it would have been rude if I didn’t answer everything else you sent.”

So, he did see them.

“You ignored everything else anyway. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference.”

Yunho nodded. “I deserved that.”

“So you’ve been traveling this whole time?” You asked, slightly unconvinced.

Yunho shrugged. “Not the whole time, but for most of it. I was in the US for work.”

“I see.”

“Look, it may not mean much now, but I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say to you after everything that happened. I really tried to, but I couldn’t express what I was feeling well enough. I’ve never been good at that stuff. I read everything. Even the last one. It took a lot for me to come see you to say this, but I’m not here to hear you apologize anymore. I’m here to apologize.”

You listened to him, swallowing the thick clump of saliva that was stuck in your throat. “Why now?”

“Because it was wrong of me to leave how I did, twice.” Yunho said. “I tried to forget about you. I was so upset and confused by everything then, and what you said to me only confused me more. I didn’t know what to think. As time went on, I realized that I wasn’t even upset that you and San… you know. I mean I was, for a while, but the more I thought about it, it wasn’t just that. It was because I thought I lost you to him, again.”

“Lost me to him?” You stopped yourself to think. The conversation you had with Jamie in the car coming back to you in waves. “Because you wanted me before he did.”

Yunho’s eyes flickered up to you. “How did you know that? It was Jamie, wasn’t it?”

You nodded. Yunho laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. I wanted to ask you out. He knew it, but he swooped in. The rest well, you know. I have always hated that son of a bitch since then, but for the sake of the friendship, I buried it and the feelings I had for you.”

“So, did you plan to sleep with me that night as some kind of revenge or something?”

“No. Same reason you slept with him: it just happened like that.” Yunho said confidently. It was a dig for sure and you felt it, but he wasn’t wrong.

“I deserved that.” You stared down at the ground, admitting your wrong in the situation.

“I hate to say that I read your last message a little too late. I should have just taken some time and gathered my thoughts and talked to you, but I was being childish, selfish. I didn’t consider how you felt at that time. And I’m really sorry.” Yunho moved off of the couch and started making a beat towards you, slowly. “But I don’t agree with what you said.”

Your eyes returned to his. “What?”

“You said you think this is goodbye. It’s not.” Yunho was only a few steps away from you now. You tried to mesh yourself with the kitchen island. “It can’t be because we’re not saying goodbye.”

Yunho was looming over you now. His size alone was intimidating. The way he gazed down at you through the strands of his dark hair was enough to send a tingle down your back. You had to completely look upwards in order to see him.

“Maybe we should.” You didn’t even believe that, but with everything that had happened between you. Maybe San was right. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought. Maybe you didn’t love him. Maybe he didn’t love you. “We don’t need anything complicated anymore .”

“I don’t want anything complicated. I want you.” Yunho placed both of his hands on either side of your body, locking you in the center of the counter. Past images flashed in your head. His scent. That same familiar scent wafting against you. Those eyes that stared daggers into your soul. The way his lips felt against yours. The way his hands caressed over your body like they were searching for something important. “I want to hold you when I want to. Kiss you. Touch you. I don’t want to sneak around with you anymore. I don’t care about anything that happened before. I just want you.”

You shut your eyes for a long moment as he pulled you into him with his words alone. He was so close to you that you were almost afraid to breathe, scared that if it took you too long to think that it could be the very end of this moment entirely. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted Yunho— you wanted to be with him.

“What if I’m not right for you?” You muttered.

“You’re perfect.” Yunho rested his forehead against yours and spoke softly as if he were pleading with you. “I need you, baby. Forgive me.”

You felt yourself unravelin his hands. Your convictions held no weight against the feelings that were churning inside of you again just from being in close proximity with him. The days and weeks without being with Yunho had blended together in a messy, and misconstrued mixture that you had lost track of time. Four years ago, San had stopped the clock on your existence, but Yunho had made time move again. You felt alive with him. Your heart pumped with enthusiasm and longed for your next meeting. Your hand reached towards his face that was now free from the cuts and bruises that you remembered. You ran your thumb over the spot just below his eye, feeling the tenderness of his skin. Traveling down to his lip, remembering where the thin cut was.

“I forgive you..” You whispered back to him.

Yunho did not want to waste more time and neither did you as he took the opportunity to erase the small gap between you. Especially with his wing span, he had no problem scooping you into his arms and crashing into your lips. Your feet had left the ground in a moment’s notice, and you were clinging to him for dear life with your legs flung haphazardly around his small waist. But with his hands gripping onto your ass, you felt stable enough to continue. His lips were exactly how you remembered them. Sweet and soft, fluffier than before, but that fiery passion was the same. Though the kiss was deep and filled with longing, it was only obvious the hunger that underlined every blissful embrace. Yunho carried you off somewhere away from the counter, but you were unaware of where he was headed considering you were handling other matters.

For a moment, your back collided gently with a wall. Yunho pinned you against it, while your fingers entangled themselves in his hair. His tongue pressed against your lips, asking for entrance before you parted them, letting his snake-like appendage traverse the depths of your mouth. You delightfully sucked on his tongue, The sloppy, wet kiss deepening with each go. You mewled approvingly and then suddenly you were on the move again. Yunho kept you steady against him as he pushed through one of the two bedroom doors in the apartment, hoping that yours was the right one.

“God, I want you so bad.” You cooed breathlessly, breaking the kiss for just a moment.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll have me real soon.” His words were smooth, and you felt a twinge between your thighs.

Yunho walked a few more steps into the bedroom. Yunho tossed you on the bed and you laughed slightly as your body bounced from the impact. He was on top of you again in seconds, caging you inside his arms yet again; his fingers digging into the fabric of your linens. His lips collided with yours again, every peck more calculated than the last. One of Yunho’s hands cupped your face, before sliding from your cheek down to your jaw and clasping around it, holding you still while his tongue dived deeper into your mouth. He had a naturally gentle nature, but he could also be controlling when it came to the bedroom and you loved it. He gave you enough power and control for him to instantly take back when it suited him. With his lower half laying flush in between your thighs, he ground himself into you slightly. You moaned quietly against his lips, feeling the stretch of his jeans pressing against your folds. The friction sent waves of sensations through you and you could feel moisture trickling beneath the layers of your clothing.

Your hands scavenged across his body; feeling his biceps, his broad shoulders, the wideness of his back contrasting with his regularly slim build. You fisted his shirt, pulling the fabric free from it being tucked inside of his jeans, feeling the light pop in your palms once it was free. Yunho broke the kiss for a moment, still straddling you beneath him and sat up into the air, removing the bothersome piece of clothing from his body and tossing it away. The true length of him was free. His abs like ripples against the original build of his skin and you couldn’t help, but touch them. Licking against your own lips like you had come across a new meal to divulge in. The only thing that remained were his pants and that singular chain that laid lifeless against his collarbone. Yunho stared down at you the whole time, keeping your attention focused on him.

“This has to come off too,” he commanded, nodding towards your work shirt. You looked down and watched as Yunho fit a single finger into your shirt and popped every last button like it was nothing. Your chest now exposed to the cool breeze, revealing your black bralette. A sigh escaped Yunho’s lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The tip of his fingers grazed against your neck, running down just where the dip of your collarbone met the lining of your breasts. Your skin bristled at his touch. His hand opened and clasped around your throat; thumb digging into your skin just a bit with the applied pressure on your jugular. He pulled you up to him, even though you were a quarter of his height sitting down, and he kissed you again. You shook yourself out of your long sleeved shirt and tossed it aside as Yunho had, not sure where it landed in the room, but you didn’t care. The hand around your throat unlatched suddenly, almost hesitant, and it was already sliding into your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling. You whined out to him, but he didn’t care. It felt good to you, like a juxtaposition to the sweetness of the kiss, and you wanted it to stay there, just a little while longer. You wanted to stay here with him forever.

The next thing you knew, you were undoing the clasp in his pants. Fiddling with the belt strap until you felt some give. It had been so long since you felt him—you wanted to have him devour you from the inside out, digging so deeply inside of you that he may strike gold. To call his name like he was too far away to hear, for him to claim you like you were his. You wanted him. You needed him.

You kissed him harder, erasing the softness from before, but dousing your kiss in hunger and desperation. Through frustrated grunts, and Yunho’s help, you managed to undo the latch on his pants, tugging them off of him. Yunho kicked them off haphazardly, keeping his focus 100% on you.

He grinned between kisses. “You’re so desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

There was a throbbing between your legs as he said this. A beat that was calling out to him, and you were aching more and more. You nodded, looking up at him pitifully.

He pushed you back against the bed, the look in his eye darker than before. Your breath hitched in your throat as he crawled back on top of you. You searched his face wildly, wondering what he was going to do next.

“Did you miss me?” He asked you softly. His hand copied the same motion as before, caressing your face first, then your neck, your chest, rubbing circles around your breast before he came to your stomach. You winced slightly, not from pain, but a slick ticklish feeling— your stomach caving under his touch.

“I missed you everyday.” You responded.

Yunho seemed to like that answer because a large smile tugged at his lips. He looked down to follow his hand making sure it was going in the right direction then back at you. His slender fingers fit right between the space in your pants and your groins, running over the mound that was concealed to him. You shifted in his grasp and sighed softly. The pad of his finger came in contact with your clit and you jolted slightly, sliding down to feel the wetness ruining your panties. He rubbed there for a while, watching you squirm and writhe beneath him.

“I can tell. You’re already soaking and I barely even touched you yet. You were always such a pretty little whore for me.” Yunho pulled his hand out and brought them up to his lips, tasting your secretions and groaning in approval of the flavor. “You taste so good, baby.”

The sight must have reached something deep in the pit of your stomach because you were even more turned on than before. You wanted him to take you right there. Not feeling embarrassed to show how much you wanted him to fuck you. For Yunho, however, that fact was obscenely obvious.

“Please Yunho,” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Yunho chuckled at your pleas, readjusting himself at the foot of the bed now. “I guess I spoiled you too much before.” He reached down and dug his fingers on the inside of your work pants and tugged you towards him, you yelped as you slid against the framing of the bed, your pants loosening from around your waist and exposing your panties. “You’re such a brat when you’re horny.”

He swiveled your pants off of you completely, raising your hips so that it could help him more. He stared down at you, looking at the wet spot in your panties and the fragility of your body. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he smiled, dastardly. Like he was thinking of something. You on the other hand were growing slightly impatient. Your inner walls were pulsating like crazy. Your mind was whirring with all the possible ways that he could fuck you and how horribly you wanted him go do so. The feelings you felt were agony, and you knew he felt them too with the hard-on forming beneath his boxers. You watched now as he rubbed himself dutifully, caressing his size beneath the fabric; you felt a moan coming just from watching him. You went to touch yourself as well, but Yunho smacked your hand away.

“Not so fast princess. You only touch yourself when I say so.” He almost seemed like he was going to bite you the way he spoke so roughly. It did not deter you, but you could see he was irritated. It made you want to press him further.

“So, why don’t you touch me?” You asked in a coy voice.

“Punishment. I may not be mad at you, but it’s the least you deserve for now.” He said, finding the smile in his words again.

“You’re cruel.”

Yunho shrugged. “It’s the way the world works. Since you want to touch what belongs to me so badly, go ahead, but when I say stop. I mean it.”

Your eyes sparkled. Watching Yunho as he freed himself from his boxers, never taking his eyes off of you, who followed the bounce in his girth. It had been so long since you saw his mass, you wondered if he had grown. He looked bigger than before. Your cunt pulsed again. You spread your legs and slithered your hand down to your panties and pulled the moistened fabric aside, letting it crumple between your inner thigh. You ran your hand down the center folds, watching Yunho intently. He was completely in a trance watching you fondle yourself. You played with your clit, circling your fingers around it and moaning softly. Yunho ran his hand along his shaft, pumping himself, eyes locked on your body. You imagined his hand there touching you again, your juices pouring out from you and onto the bed sheets; overflowing like a running sink.

“Shit..” he mumbled under his breath. “Keep touching yourself like that. You look so sexy..”

Per his command you continued, sliding your fingers inside of yourself now and listening to the squelch of your insides. Another hand played with your breasts, grabbing and circling around each of them, giving Yunho a full show, which he seemed to utterly enjoy more than he thought. The two of you stayed like that for a while. The sensation was too good, you thought you would make yourself cum right there in front of him. You shut your eyes for a second and moaned out to the sky, calling for whatever powers there may be, but a hand stopped you from going forward, stealing your pleasure from you.

“You’re such a good girl.” Yunho said in an exasperated voice, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He grabbed one of your legs and pushed it back towards your shoulders as he laid himself into you. You only had a brief moment to adjust as you felt Yunho rub his thick member between your bottom lips, and he watched your face as he did so. He knew you were still sensitive from how you touched yourself just a few moments before and was using that to his advantage. He knows your body too well. He knew what made you tick and that’s what made him dangerous when he was in control. He smacked his girth against your wetness a few times before slipping into you without resistance.

“Oh my god,” Your brow furrowed. Eyes rolling towards the ceiling as the pressure inside of you built up all over again.

The moan you pushed out was loud. Too loud. You thought about the fragility of the walls around your apartment, knowing they weren’t thick enough to contain your passion. You absentmindedly apologized to them, but Yunho didn’t seem to care nor had he ever. He continued pushing himself deeply inside of you, grunting and trying to hold back his own moans. You gripped onto Yunho’s arm that was locked by your head, your nails scraping across his skin.

“Fuck, you feel even better around me than I remember.” He spoke, his voice more scratchy and gravely now.

Then he started to move. His strokes were fluid, but monstrous. Like he was doing push ups inside of you, but letting his pelvis do most of the work. His arms held him upright, bulging as he came down inside of you, plus with him holding the weight of one of your legs on his shoulder as well, he was not sparing a single motion to ensure you felt everything.

“Yun-ah..” you tried to call his name but it fell short with the moans falling through your lips.

“Look at me.” He growled, grabbing your jaw like he had earlier and forcing your gaze to him while he fucked you. “My pretty girl.”

Your eyes were locked on his, but would occasionally be distracted by the gold chain that was bouncing in your face as well. It was hypnotizing, but liberating in the sense that this was your reward for all of your efforts being good for him.

“You feel so good… fuck.” You pleaded, wrapping your other leg around his waist to deepen his strokes.

“Yeah? You miss me fucking you like this?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Use your words baby.” He said with a sly grin, moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and squeezed. “Speak.”

The grip he had on you made you lightheaded. You couldn’t think properly with the way he was fucking you, more less form an intelligible sentence. Suddenly, a small but searing pain rose in your cheek as you glanced back at Yunho who had slightly popped your cheek, forcing you to pay attention to him again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself baby. Talk to me.” He said.

“I missed feeling you inside of me. I feel good with you in me.” You managed to speak through half breaths.

Yunho continued to work his magic, digging himself deeper and deeper inside of you to get you worked up. Your pussy gripped and released him, trying to keep up with his pace; gushing with the juices that he fucked out of you. Your body responded to him so well as if he was the one controlling it. He swiveled his hips and kept his strokes in a wave like motion, whilst he pounded into you, sending bursts of his aggression through your needy cunt and out through your mouth in the form of guttural moans. You held him close, clawing at his back muscles with your nails. Yunho grunted from the pain, but took it anyway. Fucking you harder than before.

Your stomach pulled. You were almost at your limit. The room was filled with the raunchy sounds of your sex, sounding like music to your ears, but probably like a fight to others. Yunho was relentless, pumping into you everything he had without mercy.

“You take me so well, like a good fucking girl.” He huffed, slamming into you forcefully. The jolts could have sent you slamming into the mattress, but they felt good.

Yunho hissed as his pace was beginning to falter. He gritted his teeth and dropped his head on the side of yours, rutting himself into you. You held him still, fingering his hair to calm him as the two of you belched your moans. His skin felt damp to the touch, but so did yours. The heat clung to your bodies from the overexertion. He was starting to sound more desperate. You were hanging on a thread of insanity. Feeling like you were going to burst at any second.

“Yunho, I’m close..” You murmured.

“Hold it, baby..” He struggled to say. “I want us to cum together.”

You nodded, trying to force the feeling down for just a little more. You didn’t want it to end, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either, which wasn’t much at all. Yunho rolled his hips against you, sliding in out of your bundle with ease. His pace quickened for a moment and you jumped as he cursed out in your ear.

“Fuck!” He bellowed through nashed teeth. He pumped himself a few more times. “I’m about to cum. Cum with me.”

You did not hesitate to listen this time. With unleveled and shaky breaths, your eyes roll closed and you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his dick. The two of you rocking back and forth until you finally burst. You climax on him, and Yunho fills you to the brim with his cum. His groans were muffled as he hid himself in your neck, gnawing at the flesh there like it was something to hold onto. You could feel him flowing into you, covering your insides with his seed. You tried to catch your breath, letting your juices intermingle with the others. You breathed heavily together. Yunho’s back rose and fell in a broken rhythm for a moment before righting itself. He placed a kiss on your neck and sat up, still hovering over you. Your head fell back from the exhaustion.

Yunho brushed your hair from your face and looked down at you with a tired smile. There was a new found glimmer in his eye, and it sparkled much more than the chain around his neck in the light. He said nothing, only stared at you like there was nothing else in the room.

“What?” You asked softly.

He shook his head, softly caressing your hair and face before he spoke. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second. The two of you exchanged glances and a large, and loving smile was shared between you both. For the first time since you heard those words being said, your heart felt free. No longer locked in the cage you had put it in so long ago as you finally and confidently could mutter those same words back to someone else.

“I love you too, Yunho.”

“I think we should name our kid Oli.” He said suddenly.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, hitting him in his shoulder.

“Ow what?! I’m just saying.”

“You’re so unserious.”

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quinloki · 2 months ago

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Could you do one with Shanks, Beckman and Robin please. With breath play, bondage and bottom Shanks? Please and thankyou :)

Hmm... Bottom Shanks... Like, Shanks as a bottom, or Shanks bottoming in those kink situations? He can be a dom and a bottom so I'm not 100% what you're requesting-- BUT - I'm going to roll with an idea and hopefully it works.

Benn Beckman:

Bondage - FUCK Yes - I think Benn prefers Shibari between the two, but he enjoys bondage too. The vibes overlap, but I tend to see bondage as more often Functional/physical and Shibari as more often ornamental/mental.

More than the end result in either case, Beckman enjoys the time spent tying you up. The bonding, the intimacy, the way that no matter how he's tying you up it's still such a close and careful exchange. His hands definitely grip you more than you need to, he takes more time that he needs to, he breathes you in just a little deeper, pulling you close as he pulls the ropes snug.

Having control over you is an important part, but the proximity, the quiet, the anticipation - all of that is also very good.

Breath Play - Yes - It's not high on his list, but he's good at it. His observation haki might not be on par with Shanks', but he still has the knowledge and skills to go about it safely.

I don't see him pushing any extremes, but he does utilize making you short of breath to his advantage. He's certainly able to cut your air for a minute, but he's not pushing much beyond that. Enough to give you a thrill, enough to make you a little dizzy. Enough to spice whatever else it is he's doing with you.

Bottom Shanks - FUCK Yes - Beckman definitely enjoys topping Shanks, and maybe even better than that, is when he gets Shanks pinned and held in place for YOU to top him. Topping and domming can definitely be two different things, but I feel like Beckman has the weight behind his actions enough to bully Shanks into submission.

Not necessarily making Shanks a submissive, mind you, but bending that bratty captain into submission, sure. Whether Beckman's railing him (or railing Shanks into you >.> ) or you're pegging/topping Shanks while Beckman keeps him in place, doesn't really matter. One, or both, you'll make sure the captain's satisfied by the end of it.

(Might want to make sure he's drunk or exhausted enough he's not coming around to get his "revenge" too >.> )

Nico Robin:

Bondage - Yes - Her DF certain gives her an edge when it comes to bondage. I don't think she's against it at all, it's just not something that gets her visibly excited. She's good at it though, literally capable of tying several knots at once.

Like Beckman, I think she prefers Shibari to bondage. The functional nature of bondage is something she can already accommodate, so bringing rope or bars or whatever else into the equation isn't required. She has nothing against bondage though, so you're not going to have to butter her up for it or anything like that.

Breath Play - Sure - She's a little apprehensive, but she's astute, and her observation haki is certainly useful. (you know, the wiki says she doesn't have any haki, but considering she went up against Black Maria she's gotta have observation at *least*, so I'm rolling with it).

Fast learner that she is, I think she'd find plenty of ways to incorporate breath play into other aspects of a session so that both of you would enjoy the results. But it'll have to be your kink more than hers, otherwise I don't see her bringing it up herself.

Bottom Shanks - Oh god you don't even know - This is a little less to do with Shanks directly, and more with the fact that I think she enjoys topping/domming, and pegging Shanks would be something she could teasingly hold over his head.

Shanks:

Bondage - Yes - Shanks is pretty much a Sure or Yes on just about everything, with a few things ranking higher. But he's, to me, very much a try everything once and figure out what parts of it you like, and then that way you can do whatever your partner wants.

Cause his real kink is making sure that everyone is having a good time. Sure, his pleasure is important too, he's not going to leave himself hanging or anything, but he's done a lot, and there's not much he needs to be afraid of or worried about given his skills.

Bondage is something he's good at, and since he lost his arm it's been helpful in allowing him some positions he needed that other arm to pull off. But he's not as into it Beckman. There's other ways he gets his intimacy/bonding fix.

Breath Play - FUCK Yes - With his future sight he’s one of the few people that can do this kind of kink pretty much 100% safely.

The way you clench down on him when you’re short of air. The pretty color changes in your skin from the lack of air. Less pretty if he’s not the one in control, but the trust you put in him makes him rock hard.

It’s the bestial sound you make when you cum like that that really gets to him. The desperate sound you don’t make otherwise, the way it makes you dizzy and your eyes unfocus. The control is a nice part of it, but it’s really just the way that you lose control and he gets to see your pleasure in a way that no one else has likely seen.

Bottom Shanks - FUCK Yes - Hell yeah Shanks enjoys being the bottom. Whether he's holding your leash while you're pegging him, or whether he's wearing a collar and muzzle while you ride him doesn't really matter.

He doesn't have to be the dom, and he doesn't have to be the top.

But he is still, almost always, going to be in charge. The number of times he truly submits to someone could probably be counted on one hand, in my opinion, but back to an earlier point - Shanks likes to know everyone is having fun. If you want to take the dom/top power dynamic role during a session, he'll play at submitting to you, and he'll let you top him, sure. It's still fun, it's still everyone enjoying themselves \o/

If he can give it, he can take it, and oh he looks so sweet when he begs you so politely, he's so hard to deny when he's giving you that sweet good-boy vibes. C'mon, tell him he's a good boy, and he'll make sure you both feel great.

How May I Kink Your Head Canon?

#kinky one piece head canon #ask me anything #quin answers #kinky one piece head canon 2.0 #nico robin #benn beckman #akagami no shanks #shanks one piece #shanks42

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zarvasace · 3 months ago

Note

I read your Linked Nexus AU fic about the Depths drive being on the fritz and Warriors thus being displaced, and if I'm understanding the mechanics correctly, the Depths drive essentially teleports the Epona (and everything in it), right? I thought it was supposed to generate a portal or something, but I'm having a hard time finding information about it on your blog.

AAAAHHHH okay okay I'm cool. Cool. Yeah I can talk about this a little! I don't think I've done so anywhere. (Hi gryphon!! Always nice to see you around!!)

I think the only hint as to the intended function of the Depths drive is in Input:

“Three. Two. One.” Something clicks under Sky’s hands, and the ship shudders beneath Twilight’s feet. A rumble of a frequency barely out of his hearing range ripples through the metal and plastic. The world warps. ... And then it stops, everything calm as they float in the Depths dimension, just enough time for Twilight to suck in a traumatized breath that tastes of soil and ozone before something else clicks— The sound starts up again, and seems to stretch even further. Twilight's hands are too large. He can’t breathe. A bright neon light bombilates into his head, a harsh crashing that fades a second later. His head still vibrates a little when everything settles, this time in the real world again.

Also shout-out to the word "bombilate" there helping to describe a weird brain thing that happens to me sometimes that I inflicted on poor Twilight here.

So what the Depths drive actually does is transport the ship and people into an alternate dimension where spacetime is not quite the same, then out of it again. The Depths dimension is meant to be truly alien and currently very unknowable—the people who made the drive know very little about it. They don't know if anything lives over there, or where the conditions do or do not spell danger for a ship, so... The solution was to let the drive linger there as little as possible. But because of the folded space and eldritch nature of the Depths dimension, you can travel massive amounts of space in an instant. Possibly even time. It's less of a portal and more of a "sucking the ship through a straw and spitting them out then doing it again"

(this is, unintentionally, similar to the way the Drift works in the Starfinder setting. Oops. But it isn't 1:1!)

I believe it's Four who mentions, in a fic I can't recall at the moment (a long walk maybe?), that the Depths drive seems to work on intention, and he kind of hates that. I don't currently have an underlying scheme for the way all this works, but I do know that the magic/energy of the Depths is guided by intention. That's why you can send manned ships in and get a good result, but drones can't usually go where their controllers expect. The Epona is usually guided by Sky, the pilot, who has such a clear idea and strong intention that they usually get where they need to go.

The Depths drive also works on some specific energy inside of it—as the drive is used, tiny particles of that energy go inert bit by bit. The more inert particles there are, the less predictable the drive's results are; that is, the less accurately it's able to read the intention of the most driven person in the vicinity. They can't jump accidentally, due to the way you have to charge the drive up, but they can go somewhere they didn't mean to (possibly with some meta fail-safes in place with regards to how close to a planet or other mass they can get.)

(I also have a tiny note in my head about how Hylians' and Deities' intentions are perhaps more likely to be listened to. Does this mean Four is last on its list? I think so! He might find it difficult to control a drive if someone else is ok the ship. Or maybe the drive energy likes him due to the amount of effort he puts into maintaining it. Haven't decided!)

Warriors getting yeeted out of the ship during a jump to another dimension entirely, and able to be located afterwards, is a bit of a handwavey thing for the purposes of silly crossover time. But I imagined that perhaps the drive read a secret but growing desire from Wars and acted erratically.

Sooooo there you go! Yay lore! Does that answer your question?

#linked nexus #lu

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familylines · 16 days ago

Text

* — isa briones . cis woman . she/her . * | look, there goes stella reyes ! they're the twenty six year old i was telling you about … you know the gemini ? it's their fifth case with the crew — not counting the one where she flawlessly navigated the winchester mystery house without previously having stepped foot inside… originally from pittsburgh, pennsylvania, let's hope their old-school planner full of sticky notes is enough to protect them from being trapped for an extended period in darkness. most people know them as level-headed and organized, but don't be surprised if their perfectionistic side slips out when the lights flicker. this time around, they're signed on as the operations coordinator, which makes sense considering they spend most of their time reading up on their next destination like their life depends on it. if you ever need them, try picturing an ever-present cup of coffee to power through a long day, feeling a sense of accomplishment when crossing off an item on a to-do list, knowing what the group will need before they can think of it themselves, oh no this IS my circus and those ARE my monkeys, and putting out fires before bridges can burn or whispering stell into the walkie. but beware — if they don't answer, something else might. [ playlist. pinterest. ]

basics.

full name: stella althea reyes

nickname(s): stell

birthday / age: may 25 / twenty-six

zodiac: gemini

gender & pronouns: cis woman, she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual, demiromantic

relationship status: single

hometown: pittsburgh, pennsylvania

languages: english, filipino (basic)

family: ricardo reyes (father, 68), elizabeth reyes née reynolds (mother, 64), echo reynolds (cousin - missing, would be 36)

history.

stella reyes had a perfectly average childhood.

for the most part.

the only (miracle!) child of a couple of pittsburgh small business owners, her upbringing was idyllic - suburban, white picket fence, middle class. the reyes family took vacations with their extended family, stella excelled in school, and all the while... her cousin, echo reynolds, was charting their own unique path.

unsurprisingly, the reynolds clan disapproved of echo's fascination with all things scary, spooky, occult, and folkloric. stella, though... one too many scary stories from her only cousin during camping trips as a kid and she was hooked. maybe not on the subject matter, but on the way echo described things. the way that she could picture everything so clearly, just from what they were saying. the two were never the closest, especially given how echo was the black sheep of the family and they had a ten year age gap, but at every family function that they were all forced to attend to keep up appearances there was no doubt of where stella would end up.

stella's mother in particular disliked echo, citing her complaints each time family outings came to an end. paranormal influencer. what even was that? to elizabeth reynolds it was a frivolous path with no security - a group of kids playing make believe, talking to the internet like anyone would want to listen. it was not work. and it should be ignored.

stella did not ignore it.

all throughout high school she watched echo's series religiously, doing so as a way to stay close to her cousin who was often too busy to text back. the cases they covered with their crew were entertaining, and at times unbelievable. yet, stella still tuned in week after week.

until there weren't any new episodes. and stella was one of the first in her family to realize that something was incredibly wrong.

how do you process a loss that isn't yet a loss? how do you manage your expectations, keep your hope a barely flickering flame without letting it die out as the years pass?

for stella, the answer was to not process it at all. she kept herself busy, throwing herself into extracurriculars at school, acing every test, and working to get away from the places that were feeling more and more haunted with each passing day.

her perfectionism worked a little too well, and upon graduating from high school she had no shortage of options for her future. she chose the one furthest from home - conveniently the place best aligned with her dreams. her ultimate goal is to work in film - not as a director, but as a producer. she wants to help others bring their visions to life.

so she went to ucla on partial scholarship. she double majored in business (to please her parents) and film (to please herself). she got internships. she graduated. she stuck around. and eventually she got a job as an assistant at a major film studio. sure, the pay was awful and she was treated even worse, but it was a foot in the door, and her unshakeable desire to please people would never have had her think of leaving.

but then she got the text. the echo files. a group desperately in need of an operations coordinator to keep them out of trouble and on track.

to leave your shitty but stable job to go off and do something your parents might just disown you for is insane, right? definitely. it was an instant no. yet she kept coming back to the message, thinking about it while grabbing the twelve coffees of various complexity that she was asked to grab each day. not two weeks later she'd found a subletter, given her notice, and arranged a series of facetimes with her parents to explain her very well thought out reasoning for her decision.

that was five cases ago. it's been a rollercoaster ride ever since.

and more / headcanons.

from a young age stella felt a compulsive need to measure up to expectations. it was never good enough to simply pass a class - she needed to ace it. this was only exacerbated by the semi-loss of her cousin. with no one else in the family to focus their energy on molding, stella needed to be perfect at all times. the fear of disappointing her parents drove her to excel, and turned her into a pathological people pleaser.

a surprising amount of older sibling energy from an only child. the mom friend, without a doubt. she's very much focused on everyone else's issues, and keeps her spiraling to herself.

over prepares. has a binder of Very Important Information - shooting schedules, emergency procedures and contact info, etc, and always makes sure to make friends with the local librarian for easy access to printing. has never met a sticky note she doesn't like. queen of highlighters and color coding and having a very detailed organization system. do NOT mess with her organization system, or there will be consequences (you will receive your fourth favorite soda with your meal instead of your favorite).

always has a beverage - most of the time an iced coffee (in her research into the next town they're going to, she always notes the cafes), sometimes a tea. owala carrier. if it's not in her hands it's in her mary poppins-type bag - a tote that seems to hold everything you could ever need.

when she joined the team, she knew the name was a tribute to her cousin. she had no clue that they’d start in on the path that had led to echo’s disappearance, though. now, she’s eagerly anticipating the moment where they reach the end of the line. maybe it’ll provide her with some answers.

in addition to double majoring in business and film at ucla, she got a minor in marketing - something she’s been putting to use! as operations coordinator she doesn't just take care of permits and location scouting - she creates plans for filming and posting, manages the posting schedule for socials and updates the website, ensures that the content they share is monetization-friendly, and creates updates for patreon.

these days, stella pretends that she doesn’t know much about the supernatural. obviously that’s not the case. everyone in the echo files knows that her cousin was (is?) echo reynolds and that they weren’t the closest before dead air took off, but echo still babysat her when she was a kid.

maybe she just doesn't have the constitution for it (she's soooo practical), but when she enters a notoriously haunted room, it's just a room - a space she needs to figure out how to light and the proper permits for. if the supernatural is real, she doesn't have the talent for detecting it. and thus, deep down, she's left in dangerously skeptical territory. she tries to act as a neutral party within the group, though.

stella’s family truly hates that she’s following in echo’s footsteps. never in her life has she felt like more of a disappointment, but it feels like this is something she has to do. in the eyes of her parents she gave up a promising career in los angeles to gallivant around the country with a group of delusional kids, and they're not wrong, per se. however, after many a discussion (and a powerpoint presentation in which she illustrated how this time and the platform she was building tied in directly with her life plan), they've reluctantly come around.

in that presentation, stella made it clear that working with the echo files is not all fun and games. for stella specifically, it’s probably 75% not fun, actually. she tied in a lot of the concepts she learned as a business major, making sure they knew that this is a legitimate business venture. after all, a lot of work goes into herding cats, and hers love to cause trouble. any future job that asks about her crisis management skills are in for a treat of an answer.

#ptv.intro #*

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courtingchaos · 1 year ago

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Commands

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Shared Inflicted Pain

Prompt: ‘Gator - I'm thinking of your versions of Gator for this. This ones a bit idk stupid? but I wonder how he'd react to being shoved him down onto snow and getting ridden like hell. Like, I want him to feel good but I also want him to be uncomfortable as hell do you know what I mean? risky, public sex, girl on top but also risking frostbite for the pussy. I need him to suffer for that nut’

A/N: To start with, this is not stupid. This helped me spawn some more plot for later chapters actually so thank you for that. This takes place earlier in the series, just a little one off, but again I’m building the stage as I’m standing on it. Bear with me 😅 ALSO, please please please give me some grace for my terrible German. I’m using dog commands here, running off of a list of them so if I’m wrong or off just let me know.

Warnings: Sex, fighting

18+ NSFW No Minors

He follows whenever you give him that look.

Across the bays or from the front porch it doesn’t matter who’s around, he’s got a gut reaction to it. When you look at him your interest is piqued, no low lidded eyes unfocused to blur the people around you. Theres parts of you that are still something of an enigma to him even after months of this game and he’s not sure when he got so focused on you. It’s not like he’d been dedicated to the cause for Roy, more that he’d been just trying to reach the next raft in his life but in the flat plains of the Midwest he’d found you. Someone interesting and new that made him feel like a stripped wire.

Another trip to the garage with Roy, a silent drive until the truck makes its way up the drive and he squints out of the windshield to the scuffle up ahead. “Looks like your girl is causing an uproar.”

In the mouth of one of the bays a group is pulling at you and a younger man to keep you two apart. Hands pull hard at your coveralls and his hoodie but you win out before him and Gator watches you snatch the front of his sweatshirt. “She isn’t my girl.”

Roy holds up his hand in surrender. “Just a turn of phrase, no harm.” It’s the quiet chuckle that irks Gator the most but he’s tuning out his Uncle while he climbs out of the cab, both eyes stuck on you and what he’s recognized as one of your brothers.

“I told him to fuckin’ leave it!” Your fists curl up tighter and pull your brother in closer. “That’s my shit, not yours, Mark!”

“It’s in the garage!”

“That don’t mean shit!”

He wouldn’t say it felt like slow motion, more that everything else went fuzzy for a second while he watched you rear back. A moment thinking you might headbutt Mark is quickly replaced by honest delight when one fist pulls back with you just to find its home quickly in your brother’s eye. A heavy smack that makes everyone go quiet, blind hands still grasping at him but now to try and keep him on two feet. You’re having none of it though and follow him down to the cement floor with a hand still wound up in his clothes. Held still under you for better aim, Mark barely has enough reaction to get one arm over his face before you rain down punches into whatever part of him you can reach.

“Well I hate to break up this family function.” Roy interrupts but it barely phases your barrage. He watches for a few moments longer before he yells “Hey!”

Everyone snaps to attention except Ty who delves down to pull you off your brother. The scuffle quiets while you try to stalk off into the garage but not before Roy snaps his fingers once at you and points. “You. I need to speak to you and your father.”

Gator tries to decipher something from Roy’s tone but he can’t find the cause for this request. You stare his Uncle down until Ty smacks your arm and nods over to the office, his face screwed up tight. He seems to be the only one here that tries to keep you out of trouble, and the only one you seem to listen to, so you only stall for a second before you make for your father with Roy hot on your heels.

An hour of aimless talk with your eldest younger brother Chris has Gator numb from the monotony. He doesn’t want to talk cars or guns or business with your brothers, he only came along on the off chance he could steal you away for an indeterminate amount of time. A quiet corner, a wordless march to the house and wistfully he thinks about you taking him up to your room finally. He’s seen the mudroom and the long stairs that lead up. He’s even seen the kitchen at this point, a memorable circle around the worn island where you’d stayed just out of reach until you didn’t. Fingers catching your clothing to pull you across the worktop and onto the floor it’s the first time he’d heard you laugh with glee.

“Well where are you goin’?” He asks gruffly while you claw your way across the wood floor. Your laughter echos in the large kitchen and comes from a deep place in your chest while he keeps a hold on your leg. His grip is firm behind your knee and he uses it for leverage to move up your body, his grip switching to your face to squeeze your smile. “Make me chase you and now you’re tryin’ to crawl away.”

You swat at his cheek and manage to get a good hit in, enough to make him pause with a surprised scoff.

“That’s not nice.” The dark tint to his voice doesn’t match the grin on his lips. He watches your eyes widen before you swing your hand again and he pins it over your head before you can make contact. He doesn’t miss the glitter of excitement in your eyes or the quiet moan you try to hold in. “Do I need to show you how to play nice?”

“You don’t want me nice.”

His stomach twists with the knowledge that you’re right and you know it. A feral grin with too many teeth bared make him uneasy in a completely different way.

“Gator!” The snapping fingers next to his head startle him out of his reverie. Chris gives him a confused kind of sneer before he continues talking about his truck and Gator continues his lean back into the wall of the garage. He keeps eyes on the office door with the intent to follow you when you show but 20 minutes turns to 40 and he’s left wondering alone.

The door crashes open as soon as he unlocks his phone though, your boot propping the bottom of the door open for Roy and your Father to walk out.

“In the house?” Roy asks skeptically of your Father, who nods before pointing them both in the direction of the farmhouse.

“It’s where I keep all the important things.”

Gator can hear your eye roll from across the workshop and as soon as their voices fade out into the cold weather he feels you looking at him.

Interest piqued.

Wordlessly he stands to wander outside, waiting to hear the crunch of your footsteps behind him. Keys jingle to announce your appearance before you swipe him with your elbow and nod your head over towards a collection of smaller brick buildings. “Take a walk?”

Something feels off about you today. The normal self determined focus he’s come to expect is gone. You sigh deeply when you start walking but you don’t lead him to the buildings off to the side of the garage, instead walking beside him. Hands shoved into your jacket pockets and face turned down the ground watching your steps.

“You good?” He asks quietly. That part that is wistful and buried deep inside him knows you aren’t, knows your moods now like he’d studied them for a test.

“Nothing you can fix.” You mumble and shoot him a side glance.

“Well I wasn’t asking to fix anything.” Deflecting to save his own hide in the instance this becomes something it shouldn’t.

Your scoff echos in the doorless doorway of the brick building you’ve both walked to. He takes a quick scan of the inside and catches metal bars along the wall in even squares.

“Y’all have dogs?” He raises an eyebrow at you when you walk past him to go in. “I’ve never heard any out here.”

“My mother used to breed Belgian’s.” Your finger thumps dully across the empty kennel doors as you walk down the line of them slowly. He knows your mother is gone but you’ve never brought her up to him. In the before times, that misty timespan where neither of your existed in each others orbits.

He hasn’t told you about his previous life in the desert either. It’s not even a need to know thing, it’s just not something important anymore, but in that other life he’d worked with a few of those dogs. “What kind?”

You turn sharp on your heel when you reach the end of the line, a small smile soft around the edges. “Groenendael’s and Malinois.”

He knows the second one’s mostly. Bundles of dangerous energy when untrained, vicious and precise when held under a strong hand. “Trying to keep people out?”

“Something like that.” That smile turns conspiratorial before it slides right off your face. While you give him your widest range of emotions, typically saved for dark corners, he’s never seen this maudlin shadow cast across your eyes before. “My father used to have guard dogs but after my mother passed he got rid of them.”

“‘Rid of them?’”

You nod and head off around the corner, Gator following close but measured. “Did he kill them?�� That would be what your Father would do, at least what Gator would expect of him. Your huff of laughter surprises him though.

“No, too much money. He sold them.” You wave your hand to dismiss the memory. “I miss them, they were good dogs.”

Wistful. He thinks to himself.

It’s quiet in this room, what he assumes was once an office of sorts. A lone rusted filing cabinet and a torn at chair sit in the corner of the otherwise bare room. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes jump around and remember the pocked drywall and the water stained ceiling. He lets you wander out the other doorway that leads to a fenced in patch of land currently covered in untouched snow before he breaks the comfortable silence with an uncomfortable question.

“What’d Roy want?”

A loud sigh that fogs out in front of you. “Oh the usual.”

“Then why’d he need you?” He doesn’t like that Roy has taken a shine to you. More a glare with his distaste so evident but his attention is split to you now too and it makes Gator’s hackles rise.

“You know he isn’t very ‘adept’ with technology.” Your air quotes make him chuckle. “He wanted me to explain something in front of my Father so I wouldn’t lie.” You drop your voice to mimic Roy’s deep gravel before shrugging. “He doesn’t think the world of me yet, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.”

“My pretty little head?” He takes a few steps towards you to crunch fresh snow under his boots. Your eyes dart across his face and down his body before you start smirking.

“Well, maybe not little.” You close the gap with outstretched hands pulling on his parka. Instincts kick in and he goes for your heavy zipper when you snap at him.

“Fuß!”

A sharp hiss from you that makes his head tick to make sure he heard you right. The look on his face must read for confusion because you giggle lightly and pull him closer.

“That means heel.” Your breath mists between the two of you when you whisper it against his cheek.

“Yeah I know what that means.” Commands he learned in the army from security buddies with their own dogs. He wants to laugh at the comparison here but it’s only in his own head.

“You speak German?”

“Ein bisschen.”

There’s that interest again, that light behind your eyes when he does something you find fascinating. He hates being under inspection but your detailed gaze feels different. He likes when you pay attention to him.

“Do you know…fassen?” Fingers creep up his cheek like the slow spread of his grin and he turns his head quick, snaps his teeth at your wandering fingers to make you jump.

“Aus, Gator!” You grab his face and hold his jaw shut. “Behave.” He’s forced back a step when you kick your foot between his and let your other hand wander to his belt. The nylon slides easily through the buckle, your practiced hand pushing it aside for his button fly.

“Aus.” Said again only this time quieter. He watches you from down his nose and breaths heavy at you in playful defiance. Makes no move to go down even with your hand almost in his pants. You tug downward on his jaw, “Knien.”

He doesn’t know that one but he can sus out the context pretty well. When you leave his waistband alone to ruck up his pullover the cold sting of winter air cuts through his undershirt and helps shut out the rest of the world. He doesn’t move to kneel until you lean in though, lips ghosting over his with a hushed plea.

“Humor me, Gator?”

His knees hit cold ground, wet seeping through the fabric to anchor him. Your grasp softens to tilt his chin up and that piece of himself he’s kept shoved down like a defeated Titian gets purchase for the first time in years. You’re a foil to his rage and chaos with every stroke of your fingertips over stubbled skin. A smile just for him when he follows your direction and the fault inside grows wider until he barely trusts himself to keep his secrets unspoken.

“Bleib.” You take a step back and hold out your hand to placate him. He watches you pull your own zipper down and tug at your own clothes, a nervous energy circling in his chest. That’s his job on a good day and you stand there in the cold with a wisp of a smile. The metal clink of your belt makes his blood rush south while his mouth waters with the need to bite down. When you bend to untie your boots he thinks about rushing you. Pinning you into the snow and making your peals of laughter echo in this stripped out building but he waits, fingers twisting at the pockets on his pants.

Watching you step out of your shoes is worrying but you don’t flinch when you step into snow, eyes boring holes into him. He’s afraid, he’ll admit it to himself out here, that if he catches your gaze he’ll start telling you all manner of stupid things so he keeps his focus on your hands pushing your jeans over your hips and down your thighs until you let them pool on top of your boots.

Just a single step puts you close enough for him to grab, his hand hooking around your thigh the same as your fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck. A firm grip to pull him back and make him finally look at you, your eyes dark and focused.

“Guter Junge.”

His back hits the ground and he grunts when your weight lands on top of him. Hands fall through the new snow beside his head and you hover over him, small clouds of breath evaporating from your open mouth. The heat rolls off you and leaches into him while the cold burns his back where his layers have pushed up. You only get one good roll of your hips before he’s wedging his hand between you to pull your underwear to the side and get ahold of himself to push you down. Almost like a sigh of relief when you sink your hips down flush against him, he’s lost in you now. That calm that settles after your meetings is waiting in the wings and making things quiet for him to focus.

His mouth finds your neck when he pulls you in close, teeth finding the fading mark at the juncture of your shoulder to darken it again. A choked off moan in his ear sets a fire in his belly and he wraps your hair around his fist to hold your head still so he can angle you better.

“Gator-“

He cuts you off with harsh thrust when he gets his feet planted, teeth still dug into your skin when he sets his pace. A long groan from deep in your chest vibrates against his mouth and your hands scrabble for purchase. Cold along his face and in his hair to hold on while he fucks you in the snow. Ice and water get under his collar but you’re warm along the front of him. Breath hot against his ear while you whimper his name, thighs around his hips keeping him insulated from the air.

You mutter curses under your breath while he thinks about you calling him good. Good boy in fact and his cock throbs deep in your heat. If he opened his mouth and let go of you he could ask you to say it again. Say it in German or English or whatever fucking language you wanted. He could whine under you and ask for praise while he rocketed too quickly towards coming.

He feels the drag of your tongue under his ear and his eyes roll, your simplest gestures his favorite things. With his nose buried in your hair he catches a new scent buried under the heat and metal, something soft and floral that drives his curiosity. When he seems to hit just right he can feel you tense above him and he lets go of his own leash to chase his own end.

“You gonna come?” Hushed in his ear it startles him until your hand slides around his neck and gain enough leverage to pull away from his mouth. “Come on Gator.”

The pressure on his throat makes him lightheaded and his pace stutters. The fist in your hair relaxes and he toes the line of oblivion.

“Be good and come for me?” Whispered against his cheek while he tries to nod but your lips graze the corner of his mouth, breath pushed past his lips and he sees black when his eyes slam shut. A groan claws out of his throat that you still hold tight and he grips your thighs to keep you in place while his toes curl painfully in his boots. The cold barely registers in his ringing head, not when you dot the side of his mouth with light kisses that he’s not even sure are real.

You humble him. In the wake of whatever you two have wrought against each other there’s a silence that settles in him. It quiets the rage that simmers just under his skin and the yelling in his head. Unintelligible anger that stems from a spring inside him is stopped whenever you’ve laid hands on him and he feels a creeping uneasiness at the way he craves it. He’d only come along today in the hopes he’d find you. He’d done it in the hopes that you’d let him mark up your neck again and that you’d wrap your fist in his hair and pull until it stung.

“It’s really cold.” He says it into the side of your head still pressed to his shoulder. “You need to put some clothes on.” He doesn’t want to cut the afterglow but he can feel you starting to shiver and he can tell patches of his skin are going numb.

“Afraid your balls are gonna freeze?” Comes mumbled from you before you sit up again and he laughs, still buried inside you.

“Somethin’ like that.” He winces for a number of reasons when you separate, least of which because of the cold. You dust off melting snow and bits of brown grass from your knees before you jump back into your jeans and jam your wet feet into your boots. “Do you need help?”

“Help?”

“Getting back to the house.” It’s the only way he can ask to stay. He won’t ask if you’ll let him help you because he knows you’ll scoff and shove him before disappearing inside. Instead he’ll ask if you want him to walk with you. He stands and gets his pants rebuttoned and tries to tame his hair back down.

“I think I know the way.”

“Fine.” He walks away to hide his bruised ego in the zipping of his own jacket and the readjusting of his belt. It isn’t until he’s back out front that he realizes you haven’t followed him and he can feel the break in this coveted calm of his. Half way to marching back to the truck to wait for Roy in anger when you pop up and tug at his elbow.

“Do you want like a coffee or something?” You ask quietly, your teeth chattering on the last word and he pushes your hands out of the way to finish snapping your coat closed.

“Do you have anything decent?” He can feel you staring again but he’s steadfast in his feigned ignorance while you study him. The pause in the conversation hangs for a moment too long before you sneak your fingers into the crook of his elbow and tug again when you start walking.

“I keep the good stuff in the house.”

#Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Smut #My Fic #My Work

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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

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unchained - chapter five

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: Send Me On My Way by Guy Meets Girl word count: 3163

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: This is mostly fluff, but we do get a glimpse of some of Arrie's bandmates! And learn a little more about him, too. I apologize in advance for the level of cheese. Things get a little dicey next chapter, though. (Also if you recognize the first part of this, it's because I shared it as a preview on Arrie's birthday back in March. :3) Warnings: none

A few days later you were in your bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling. Your mind was whirring, your thoughts steadily tumbling over each other. You wanted to rest, to shut your eyes, and sleep. And yet, for some reason, you couldn't.

You sighed. You rolled over in bed and picked up your D.D.D. hoping something there could distract you.

You were going to scroll through Devilgram, but you accidentally opened your contacts instead. You saw Arsenios's name there, new among your list.

Your finger hovered over the send message option. It was late. He was probably asleep, like you should be. And it wasn't like you guys were close enough that you could just text him in the middle of the night.

And yet…

Your mind was a little cloudy from exhaustion, so you went ahead and sent a message anyway. You'd deal with any consequences later.

MC: Hey, are you still awake? Or do you have a normal sleep schedule?

What a dorky thing to say. You didn't care because you were tired and your brain was not fully functioning. You just needed to talk to someone.

Sure, you could have sent a message to any one of the brothers. Actually, you could have just left your room and talked to them in person. Levi was certainly still awake and a good gaming session might even be something that could help. Lucifer might still be awake, too, but you were far more likely to encounter a lecture from him. But for some reason, you didn't want to do any of that.

Your phone vibrated and you nearly dropped it in surprise.

Arsenios: What's sleep? Is that a human thing?

You rolled your eyes. Now you felt a little less like a dork because you were clearly talking to someone who was even more of one than you were.

MC: Ha ha, very funny. So you are awake.

Arsenios: I am now. Did you forget to do your curses and hexes homework for tomorrow? Because if that's why you're texting me, I regret to inform you that I didn't do it either.

MC: No, unlike you I actually care about school. I know better than to think you've done any homework ever.

Arsenios: That's a relief. I wouldn't want to be known for doing homework. So what's up? Everything okay?

You paused for a moment. Was he worried about you? You shook your head. You were being silly.

MC: Nothing, really. I just can't sleep, that's all.

Arsenios: I can do something about that. Hang on.

You read this last message in confusion. You stared at the screen for a moment, not sure how to respond, when it scared you to death by ringing in your hand. Arsenios's name flashed across the screen.

He was calling you?

You swiped to answer because what else could you do?

"Um, hello?" you said.

"Hey," Arsenios said. "Sorry to just call you out of nowhere like that, but I can't help you sleep if you can't hear me."

"What are you talking about?" you asked.

There was the soft strum of guitar strings on the other line.

"Have you already forgotten?" His tone was amused. "I can sing you to sleep."

You stared at the phone for a minute. "What?"

He laughed, a soft rolling sound. "My power, remember? If you're having trouble sleeping, it would be easy for me to put a little magic into my song to help you fall asleep. Is that okay?"

Your cheeks heated up and you were glad he couldn't see you. At least he asked this time. You thought about it. It would be nice if you could just sleep right now. "Okay. But if I fall asleep…"

"Don't worry," Arsenios said. "I'll hang up. I won't hear you snoring or talking in your sleep."

You snorted. “You’d like to listen to my sleep talk, wouldn’t you?”

Arsenios sighed dramatically. “Guilty. But I’ll be good and disconnect the call. Just get comfortable and tell me when you're ready.”

You readjusted yourself so that you were in your favorite sleeping position, keeping your D.D.D. beside you on the pillow.

"Okay," you said. "I'm ready."

"Sweet dreams, MC," Arsenios said.

He started to play the guitar before you could respond. Then he was singing something soft and sweet. You hadn't heard it before, so you figured it was a Devildom song of some kind. It was mellow and quiet. The baritone of his voice easily rising and falling with the notes. It was hard to believe this was the same voice that had been practically growling on stage with the band. Right now it was smooth and gentle, the acoustic hum of the guitar strings mingling perfectly.

Soon enough, your eyes began to drift closed. You felt yourself falling into a restful slumber. It was like you were wrapped up in the song's melody, held close and kept warm. Your dreams were mild and pleasant.

When you woke the next day, your D.D.D. was beside you, but the screen was dark. You felt as though you had the best sleep of your life. You had an energy you didn't normally feel in the mornings, a sparkling through your skin.

You picked up your D.D.D. and saw a message was waiting for you.

Arsenios: If you ever can't sleep again, just call me.

Although the time on this text was from last night, you decided to send him a message back anyway.

MC: Thank you. I've never felt so rested before.

To your surprise, there was a response almost immediately.

Arsenios: You owe me. :)

MC: What? I didn't know there was a fee!

Arsenios: Are you free tomorrow night?

MC: Maybe. Why?

Arsenios: I'll consider us even if you come to the Crimson Street plaza tomorrow. The band was hired by the Cafe Association to play an acoustic set.

MC: All right. I'll be there. But couldn't you have told me about this in curses and hexes today?

Arsenios: Nah, I gotta stay home and practice for the set tomorrow. :)

MC: You're such a slacker. How have you not been expelled for all the school you miss?

Arsenios: It helps to be friends with student council members.

You couldn't argue with that. You thought about the brothers and wondered if they would cover for you if you decided you just didn't feel like going to school. Maybe if Lucifer wasn't such a stickler, you knew the rest would support you.

MC: Well, I'll miss seeing you in class.

There was a long pause and you thought Arsenios was probably not going to respond. So you got up and started to get ready for the day. But then your D.D.D. buzzed.

Arsenios: I'll see you in class, MC.

You laughed. It was just like when the brothers said they wouldn't go somewhere, but changed their tune as soon as they found out you were going. It was endearing.

MC: Oh you changed your mind? Why?

Arsenios: I want to see you.

Your heart skipped a beat. The response had come quickly and without hesitation. You had been trying to tease him, to put him on the spot, make him come up with some excuse about why he changed his mind so suddenly. Instead, he told you the truth like it was no big deal.

What did you even say in response to that?

MC: I wasn't expecting you to admit it…

Arsenios: Sorry. I'm only subtle when it comes to my magic.

You considered your next question carefully. You were going to be seeing him in person soon enough, but you were hoping for more of that honesty.

MC: Why are you interested in me at all?

Arsenios: Why did you start listening to me play the piano in an empty room?

You understood his point. He might not have cared about you at all except that you consistently crept into the dance hall at RAD to listen to him play. It was clearly something he did just for himself and you had shared it with him multiple times, even if neither of you acknowledged the other there in the darkness.

MC: Fair enough. I'll see you in class.

Arsenios: See you soon, MC.

You tried to focus on getting ready again, but your mind was going over everything that had happened. You wondered if you would be embarrassed by the fact that this demon had sung you to sleep last night. Somehow, you didn't think you would be when you saw him again. It had been his idea after all.

Anyway, you would be doing your best to forget all about this conversation.

It was a beautiful night in the Devildom. The stars were twinkling brightly, the moon a waning crescent in the sky.

Arsenios was watching the people passing by on Crimson Street while his bandmates set up behind him. He knew he should be helping, but he was a bit distracted. He couldn't stop watching for you, wondering if you would be alone or if you would feel the need to bring someone with you.

He had seen you in hexes and curses earlier that day, of course. But unsurprisingly, you had been occupied with the demon brothers that also shared that class with you.

Arsenios had noticed the way you looked up at him and smiled softly when he entered the classroom. He noticed the way you looked fresh and well rested. He noticed the way you seemed to be glancing over at him throughout the lecture. He noticed your disapproving frown when you realized he hadn't even bothered to bring his textbook.

He wasn't complaining. It was nice just to be near you. But he thought if you came alone tonight that he might have the opportunity to talk to you in person.

"C'mon, Arrie," someone said nearby him. "I need your help. Chymion is getting all the wires tangled again."

"Okay, Liv," Arsenios said, responding to his bandmate Liviana even though his eyes remained on the street.

Arsenios didn't move. He couldn't bring himself to look away.

He sensed Liviana had come over to stand beside him, her long blond hair catching the periphery of his vision.

"That human you're obsessed with will be here when they get here," Liviana said. "In the meantime, we're really having trouble with the wires and you know what'll happen if you don't take them away from Chymion."

"I got it!" Chymion's voice called from somewhere behind them.

Arsenios didn't need to look to know that Chymion was likely wrapped up in the wires himself at that point.

"I know," Arsenios said. "I just-"

He cut off because suddenly, there you were. Arsenios reached out subconsciously to grip Liviana's arm.

"Finally," she said. "They're here now, so can you please focus?"

Arsenios watched as you looked around, spotted him, and smiled. He let go of Liviana's arm to smile back and give you a friendly wave.

You waved briefly before sitting down at one of the many tables the Cafe Association had set up in the plaza. A server came to your side immediately and gave you one of their special event menus.

Arsenios forced himself to turn away and was confronted with a frowning Liviana, her arms crossed, her black eyes sparking with annoyance.

Arsenios ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll get Chymion untangled."

"I'm doing great!" Chymion called. A quick glance revealed that he was not, in fact, doing great.

"Chymion, your claws!" Arsenios said, dashing over to prevent Chymion's claws from slicing through any delicate equipment.

Arsenios was effectively distracted helping his bandmates get all the equipment set up for some time. He had no chance to glance back at you while he was occupied with them.

He was finally able to sit down on his guitar stool by a mic, his acoustic in his hands, and look out at the tables. A few people were looking over at the band, but most people weren't paying attention.

Arsenios found your eyes looking right into his.

It was a good set - the band played a lot of soft sweet acoustic songs. Arsenios sang quietly, backed up in places by Lael and Liviana. Their music filtered gently through the plaza, earning scattered applause after each song.

You stayed at your table, sipping at the drink you had ordered and nibbling on some kind of pastry.

After an hour of playing, the band took a break. They'd start again soon, but in the meantime, Arsenios made his way directly toward your table.

He put a hand on the chair across from you. "Is this seat taken?"

You gestured at it vaguely. "Be my guest."

Arsenios smiled and sat down. "You look well rested," he said.

You shrugged. "Magic will do that. I saw that you didn't even bring your textbook to class."

"I didn't need it," Arsenios said. "I wasn't there for the lecture."

He was pleased at the way you flushed slightly. He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. He was fighting the desire to reach across the table and take your hand.

Why was he so fascinated by you? Was it really because of the way you always slipped into the empty dance hall to listen to him play? Or was there something else that drew him to you? Your humanity? The sparkle in your eyes? The reputation you had for enchanting demons?

When Arsenios was being honest with himself about it, he had to ask himself if it was because he felt guilty about all the human lives he had hastened to their deaths. Here you were, alive and thriving, a human he never needed to make a pact with. A human he could simply know without any other intentions.

A human that had arrived in his world, rather than summoning him to theirs.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Arsenios focused back on you. Your eyes were on the table, your fingers fidgeting with each other on the edge of it.

"Sure," he said.

You kept your eyes down as you said, "Why don't you like Solomon? Is it because he wants to make a pact with you?"

Arsenios laughed and that caused you to look up in surprise. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that most demons don't like Solomon for that exact reason. Don't get me wrong. I respect him. He's an immortal sorcerer with seventy-two pacts. You can't take a guy like that lightly. But it's also a little off putting for a demon, you know?"

"Huh. I guess I didn't think about it that way," you said.

Arsenios shrugged. "Well, he's your teacher, isn't he? You're used to it. And I'm sure the demons you spend your time with are, too. But for the rest of us…"

"I thought maybe it was specific to you," you admitted with a little frown. "You just seem to be… anti-pact."

Arsenios didn't say anything right away. He couldn't exactly deny it, could he? He was anti-pact. And there were a lot of reasons why. Could he even begin to try to explain it to you in a way that wouldn't tear him apart? He had too much history that he didn't want to share with you. Not now. Maybe never.

"You're not wrong," he said at last. "I'm not a fan of pacts."

"I don't understand," you said. "Lucifer said you spent a lot of time making pacts. Barbatos seemed to imply something similar, though it's hard to tell with him. If you used to make pacts before, how come you don't now?"

"I'm retired," Arsenios said, easily. It was an automatic response. It was what he always said when someone asked about his past. And they always did. Other demons knew about his reputation.

You squinted at him. "Just how old are you anyway? Lucifer called you ancient."

Arsenios scoffed. "He's one to talk."

"So? You're millions of years old, too?" you asked.

"I… don't remember how old I am," Arsenios said and he was surprised that he was so truthful with you. "I'm younger than Barbatos, if that means anything."

You seemed to consider this for a moment. Then you asked, "What about Solomon?"

"Older than Solomon," Arsenios said.

"Wow and he's pretty old," you said. "Do you remember what was happening in the human world when you retired?"

"It wasn't as long ago as you might think," Arsenios said. "I've only been retired for a little while, relatively speaking. I think it was in a decade that humans refer to as the forties."

"Oh!" you exclaimed. "More recent than I expected!"

"I told you," Arsenios said.

"And you've just stayed in the Devildom ever since?" you asked. "Or do you go back to the human world sometimes?"

"I haven't been back to the human world since then," Arsenios said. "I'm happy enough to play gigs here in the Devildom."

You suddenly met his eyes and smiled. "You guys sound really good here tonight. After the show you put on with Angel's Temptation before, I wasn't sure what to expect. But you can play any type of music, huh?"

Arsenios felt his skin heat up, a reaction to your fond regard that flustered him so badly he nearly choked. He forced himself to take in a deep breath. "We're known for our ability to adapt," he said.

"I really liked that song without words," you said. "The one that was kind of in the middle of the others."

Arsenios felt his heart stop for a moment. "I'm still working on that one," he said slowly. "I haven't written any words for it yet."

"Do you write all the music?" you asked.

Arsenios felt himself relax again as the conversation moved on to safer ground. "No," he admitted. "I write a lot of it, but my bandmates are quite talented too. A lot of times we each write the parts of our own instruments. It's a group effort."

"How long will you be playing tonight?" you asked.

Arsenios looked at his D.D.D. for the time. "Probably another hour or so. But you can go home now if you need to. I know Lucifer is probably pretty protective of you. I'll still consider us even."

He watched as you flushed again, remembering the way he sang you to sleep through your D.D.D.

"Thanks again for your help," you said. Your voice was quiet, but you held his gaze.

Arsenios smiled. "It was my pleasure," he said and he meant it. "I'm happy to help you out any time."

"I'd like to stay for the rest," you said. "Lucifer won't mind."

"If you're sure," Arsenios said. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll walk you home after."

"I'd like that," you said with a smile.

Arsenios found himself thinking that he would do just about anything to make sure you were always smiling.

masterpost | chapter four | chapter six

taglist: @avalordream @lonely-north-star @expressionless-fr @featheredcrowbones @pumpkinsareamazing @szired comment to be added or removed!

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me oc x mc #obey me x reader #x reader #unchained #misc writes

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betweenthings2 · 3 months ago

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literally all the prompts i cant choose and ESPECIALLY if its to do w the big light i will take whatever you graciously give to us

I've been hanging onto this ask for so long to give you all whatever I felt like writing, so here's some stuff that kind of materialized in my drafts. The prompt list is here, but there is probably a new Big Light prompt list coming when I finish the prompts I have now.

PTSD Prompts "Wake up. Wake up!" and "I'm broken. I'm fucked in the head."

Matty hasn't gotten out of bed in days, not in any meaningful way. George has tried everything he can think of, but all Matty does is stare off into space. George isn't even sure Matty realizes he's there. It breaks his heart and he has no idea what to do other than just be there. He can't expect Matty to be fine, he knows that, just like he knows Matty isn't fine. He didn't expect Matty to be fine, but he didn't expect this. This is something George hasn't seen before. Even at his worst, Matty's always been a little more functional than this.

George figures he just needs time. That's fine, he can give Matty time. It's been two weeks. Two whole weeks since Matty went through something awful, since Matty got out of something awful, of course he wants to stay in bed for four days straight. That makes since to George--Matty is on the back side of something awful, of course he's crashing, it's just, well, he won't talk. He won't look at George, barely accepts the tea and toast George keeps bringing him.

On day five George decides he's doing something. He lets Matty be for the most of the day, holding out hope that Matty will get up and do something, but as afternoon rolls over into evening, he gives up. If nothing else, George decides, he's going to get Matty into the shower, wash his hair, help him feel a little bit better physically at least.

After Matty declines, or more accurately, refuses to accept anything to eat or drink, George collects a plastic bag to wrap around Matty's split to keep it dry, drapes a towel on the radiator, turns on the shower, and lets it warm up while he goes to get Matty. He's half temped to simply pick Matty up and put him in the bathtub and that's probably the most efficient course of action, but he's also not quite willing to run the risk it'll upset Matty, so he sits on the edge of the bed and tries.

"How 'bout gettin' up, love?" George asks.

Matty doesn't say anything.

"I've got the shower running, it'll be nice and warm," George tries again. "I think you might feel a little bit better."

Matty doesn't move or say anything.

"I'm gonna pick you up, ok?" George decides.

Still, Matty doesn't respond, so George stands and pushes the bedding back, then picks Matty up and takes him into the bathroom. There's enough counter space that Matty can sit on the counter, so that's where George puts him, waiting for just a minute to make sure he's steady before pushing the door closed.

"I'm gonna get you undressed now," George continues. He's not sure if Matty's even hearing him, but telling him what's going on still seems like the bet choice, even if he doesn't respond.

Matty isn't very helpful when George goes to pull his shirt off, nor is when George wraps his splint up to keep it dry. He's even less helpful when George helps him off the counter to get his sweats and boxers off, but George manages well enough on his own, then gets Matty into the bathtub. He immediately presses himself into a corner of the bathtub and pulls his knees him to his chest, getting himself as small as he can.

"Hey, you're alright," George offers. "'s just you and me. I'm gonna wash your hair and I've got a warm towel for you, then I'm gonna change the sheets so everything's nice for you."

Matty doesn't say anything, just keeps himself small.

"I won't do anything 'til you're ready, but I'd like to take care of you," George tries. "Can you tell me when you're ready?"

George doesn't really expect Matty to say anything, but after a few moments, he does relax and gives George a tiny nod.

"Can you nod again when you're ready, love?" George asks.

Matty doesn't move for another few moments, but then he gives a second little nod, so George comes back to the side of the bathtub and takes the showerhead down before kneeling next to the tub. He lets the water flow over Matty's body, giving him a minute to get used to it before he urges Matty to tilt his chin up so water doesn't run into his eyes as George wets his hair. It's greasy and matted, but George takes his time getting it wet, then holds the showerhead towards Matty.

"Can you hold that?" he asks.

Silently, Matty takes the showerhead and holds it just above his knees, watching the water run down his shins.

George has to take that as a win and takes Matty's shampoo from the edge of the bathtub. Matty flinches slightly when the cap pops open and George makes a point not to close it, figuring he's going to have to shampoo Matty's hair twice and he does. The shampoo barely lathers and it breaks George's heart, but all he does is rinse it out and hand the showerhead back to Matty to shampoo his hair a second time. The shampoo lathers better the second time and George moves on to conditioner and a comb he kind of didn't know he had.

"'m sorry if this hurts a bit," George murmurs. "It'll be better if I can get all the tangles out now, though, ok?"

Matty gives a little, tiny nod, so George starts at the ends, working out the tangles, careful and gentle. Every time he hits a particularly tough tangle and Matty winces, he murmurs an apology and by the time he's done, he's wound up with more of Matty's dark hair knotted around the comb than he expected, a combination of natural shedding and hair being pulled or broken and George worked out the knots. That's kind of heartbreaking, too.

George lets the conditioner sit for a minute while he takes a soapy washcloth to Matty's body. The bruising on his chest and shoulder is fading, gone to a kind of sickly greenish yellowish color that George kind of hates to see, but tries to ignore as works. When he's done with Matty's body, George rinses the conditioner from his hair and the soap from his body, then shuts off the shower. Matty doesn't move, so George towel dries his hair, then works curl cremé and gel through the strands. Still, when George is done, Matty doesn't move.

"Hey, we're all done, sweetheart," George says gently. "We're all done. We can get you back to bed if you want."

Matty still doesn't move.

"Matty," George tries again. "C'mon. Up you get. D'ya need help?"

Nothing.

"Matty." George is a little bit sharper this time. When Matty doesn't do anything, George waves a hand in front of his face and still, there's nothing. "Matty."

George sits back on his heels and just looks at Matty. He loves Matty, he does, more than anything. He loves Matty so much, but this empty shell of a person isn't Matty. This is what someone else, someone awful made Matty. This isn't George's Matty but it is because this is Matty now and George is suddenly so angry about it.

"C'mon," George begs. "Please. Do something, Matthew. Wake up. Wake up! Do something."

Still, Matty doesn't do anything.

"This isn't it," George continues. "This isn't it. I know it was awful and I know all that awful is in your head now, forever, and I know you want everything to go away and you want to hide in the safe corner of your head, fuck, I know, Matty, but I am begging you, don't let that part of you win. Don't let him win. Please."

Matty looks up at George with big, sad eyes full of tears, but he doesn't say anything.

"Ok," George says, standing. He holds a hand out to Matty and helps him up then wraps the towel that was on the radiator around his shoulders. "I'm gonna get you clean clothes, but do you want me to change the sheets, too? It'll just be a couple minutes and things'll be nice and clean for you."

Matty gives another tiny nod.

"Ok," George agrees, leading Matty out of the bathroom. He digs clean clothes for Matty out of the dresser, boxers, sweats, and a hoodie Matty would always take from him when they were in high school, then clean sheets from the linen closet and changes the sheets while Matty gets dressed again, slow and a little bit clumsy.

When George is done with the sheets, he folds the bedding down so it's easy for Matty to get back into bed, but instead of crawling back into bed, Matty just wraps his arms around George and cries. It's quiet crying, but crying nonetheless and god, does George wish he could do something about it. He's doing all he can, though, so he just lets Matty cry.

----

"I'm afraid I don't know how to do this right, George," Matty admits, scared and quiet. His voice feels too big for the dim bedroom, for the way their bare bodies are pressed together between the sheets. He knows this the wrong time to say this, he probably needs to stop saying the big, scary things right after they've had sex, when they're comfortable and cozy together, but he's not sure he'll be able to say it another time.

"I'm scared I don't know how to do a proper relationship right, 'cause I love you, but I know that’s not everything. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. What am I supposed to do every day? What do I do if I'm mad at you or I don't feel like talking to anyone or I want to be alone? How do I tell you that without doing it wrong?"

"Matty," George murmurs, "you do know how to do it right, I promise you. We've been doing good for almost a year."

Matty shakes his head as best he can with his head against George's chest. "I've spent so much of the past year just trying to keep my head above water. I've spent the past year trying to convince myself I was safe and half the time I couldn't believe it and the other half I could barely get out of bed. If we've been doin' good, that's you, not me. That was you in spite of me."

"That's not true," George tries, running gentle, calloused fingers up Matty's back. "It wasn't in spite of you. Nothing is in spite of you, we're a team."

"I don't know that I know how to be on the team," Matty insists. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do or what it's supposed to look like. I have never had a good model of a healthy relationship. I mean, my parents got divorced and before that, they were always working and my mum was drinking and they fought and I don't wanna fight but that's my only reference point."

"You've been in other relationships, love, you have more references than your parents," George says. He realizes that's probably the wrong thing to have said as soon as he says it but Matty scoffs and doesn't give him a chance to add anything.

"And they were all at least kinda shit," he says. "They were all, every single one of them, centered around fighting or fucking or me using and I've never gotten along with someone like I do you. I can't ruin this, but I ruin things. I'm hard to get along with."

"You don't ruin things," George responds. "You don't, and you're not hard to get along with."

"I am," Matty insists. "People don't like me, not really. You spend too long around me and I lose all my intrigue and I'm just-" he shrugs "-too much, I guess. I don't know, but I'm difficult. And, and I'm broken. I'm fucked in the head. People aren't gonna like me any more now than they did before. I want people to like me. At least I was fun on coke. Now I'm just, dunno, kinda shit."

"Matty," George murmurs, running his hand down Matty's back. "Can you look at me, love?"

Dutifully, Matty moves to prop himself up on his elbows to look at George.

"None of that is true. You're not broken. You are not broken, Matthew," George says. "And who cares what everyone in the world thinks? You are loved by the people around you, the people who matter. I love you."

Matty doesn't say anything for a few moments. It's not that he needs everyone in the world to like him, it's just that his life has been a parade of failed relationships because he's difficult. People have walked away from him all his life because he's hard to be around, because he's hard to take. He can't take it George walks away, too. He can't take it if he pushes George away, too.

"Sweetheart?" George asks when Matty is quiet for too long.

"I can't lose you, George," Matty says, still looks at George with impossibly big, sad eyes. "I can't do this wrong, but I don't know how to do it right."

George combs a hand through Matty's hair, gentle and kind, and says, "We'll do it together, yeah? We'll figure out how to do it right together."

"I'm gonna get it wrong," Matty mumbles. "I'm gonna do it wrong and you'll hate me."

"I could never hate you," George says, urging Matty close again.

"But I'm fucked up. I'm broken."

"You're not broken. You're not fucked up. I love you."

Matty doesn't say anything.

George combs his fingers through Matty's hair again and carefully asks, "You're not dropping, are you?"

Matty shakes his head. "Not dropping, no, just, um, dysfunctional."

"Kinda worries me when you say things like that when we're this position."

"Sorry," Matty mumbles. "It's easier to say some things like this, is all, I think. I don't know why, it just it. I think it's 'cause you know and you, you still want me. You still like me."

"'course I want you," George says. "'course I still like you. You're not broken. You're not gonna run me off. You're not gonna ruin this. You're not gonna loose me. Matty, I have stayed by you through everything, you think the line would really be you wanting some alone time?"

"No," Matty admits. "I don't know."

"I know," George murmurs. "I've got you, though. We'll figure it out."

#my fic #matty healy #george daniel #matty x george #the big light

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voidcat-senket · 10 months ago

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69 (nice) spyscrapper? Of that whump list you got

He fucked up. He fucked up beyond comprehension, and he doesn't know what to do. Denvik saw him coming, saw them coming. Kata's gone. She's gone. His quarters are spotless- empty. Refreshed. Every sign that he, that she, had lived there is gone.

They saw the Inquisition ships leave the spaceport. The Mantis parked in the higher hanger, hidden by a reluctant, furious Merrin, but it didn't matter. The moment he stepped onto the grounds, they met him with cuffs and blasters ready. He did not accept them.

So they fought their way here. Nova Garon is a graveyard now, and none of it matters.

Kata is gone. Denvik is gone. And Bode- he might as well be gone, too. His dark eyes rove over the room from where he's collapsed to his knees; the white walls distort as a cold tear slides down his face.

What an idiot he'd been, what a blindly optimistic fool, to think that he could have it all. Cal? Tanalorr? A family for him and Kata, aunts and uncles for her to love? What make him think he could possibly deserve such a thing? That the galaxy would allow him something so kind, after everything he'd done. After everything he'd betrayed.

He feels the pressure of fingers on his shoulder and flinches away, turning his head away. Cal leaks hurt and anxious worry and need, so much need, and Bode can't- handle that, right now. He can't handle anything. He needs- he needs to not function for a while. He needs to erase everything. He needs to-

He needs to breathe he can't breath it is stifling here his chest feels like it's caving in.

"…Bode?" Cal asks, his hand sliding down Bode's arm as he squats next to him, catching in his elbow. He's loud- loud in the Force, flames pressing up against his shields and trying to press in, catching at him needily. "Bode, we can still go get her. I- I've been there before. We've can still save her, it's not too late. And Denvik-"

"That's enough." Bode grits his teeth, staring blankly out the window that overlooks the hangar, Denvik's personal shuttle long gone. Oh, he's not running from the Inquisitorius, Bode knows. He gave them Kata and is riding the wave to ISB Headquarters. He's heading straight for Coruscant. And Bode- Bode's face will be everywhere soon.

Maybe it already is.

"Bode. Come on. If we move now we can still-"

"That's all you can do," he interrupts Cal. Silent meets him; Cal's hands are both wrapped around his bicep and Bode can feel his grip tighten to the point of pain.

"Bode. Bode, I know you're hurting, but there's still more we can do. Bode, will you look at me? Bode."

There's just too much. There's too much and there's no room inside Bode to hold any of it. He already doesn't have any oxygen. Bode stands up in a smooth motion, shaking Cal off, and pads the dozen feet to the bed, pitching onto it face first. It doesn't even smell like her anymore, it doesn't smell like anyone.

Like they never existed at all. It would've been better if he'd never existed at all.

The door forces open. He hears blaster bolts, hears the sharp gasps as Cal bounces them back and the stormtroopers fall. He doesn't get up. He doesn't fight.

Why should he. Why should he do anything.

Kata's gone and Vader's Horrorhouse has her.

What did he ever do but make her life sadder, smaller, worse?

Cal grabs his shoulder again but his hands are wet now, and Bode smells that it's blood. "Bode, come on, we can't stay here, they're going to just keep coming."

What did he ever do but make Cal's life sadder, smaller, worse? Tayala's life? His own life?

"Just leave me here and go."

"Bode, please." The drop that hits the back of his neck is cold- not blood then. Tears.

Smaller. Sadder. Worse.

"It'll be better if you just go."

#spyscrapper #uhhh kinda #selfhate from bode tbh #fanfic #whump ask #ask meme

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mbti-notes · 11 months ago

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Anon wrote: INTP here. I have read through your blog and it has helped me a lot on reflecting myself and resolving my past issues. I do have one concern that I hope you can address. I tend to realize I mindread a lot as per your blog description (I’ve read through the entire tag), and am actively trying to prevent judging and assuming people’s intention too early/quickly.

However, I cannot tell the difference sometimes between when I understand a person well, vs when I mindread. I want to try to understand people so I can interact with them better. I also have past experiences with being misunderstood before and want to try to give everyone a chance. I believe this is due to inferior Fe issues along with my ego thinking that I am kind. I also want to believe that I understand people, because I can tell if someone is a red flag but maybe that does not have to do with understanding people.

I came up with some solutions such as paying attention and communicating to other people to clear up misunderstandings, but even then people tend to be indirect in what they say and it turns out they are hurt by what I said or secretly angry at me for a while (I did not realize this until they are actually angry at me).

From writing this, I do notice my contradiction: how would people be hurt/angry at me if I “supposedly” treat them right? I admit that I am wrong for doing so, that I have hurt them, and I hope to address my ego in order to be better as a person for myself and other people around me.

I mindread because I am afraid of people potencially being angry/hurt because of me, even when that did not happen, because my social skills are not that well developed, but I acknowledge there might be more underlying reasons to this that I am not fully aware of.

I noticed that you have great perpection skills when understanding people, and I would like to learn the positive aspects. If possible, can you help shine a light on how I should start? Plus, if you can advise me why why people are indirect when communicating that would be great because I am almost always direct in my communication and do not fully understand the nuances of social context, and I wish to understand and treat other people better

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Socializing and communication are complex topics, so there's a lot to unpack in your question.

(1) Mindreading: Ne development should help with the mindreading problem. Healthy Ti doms have a reputation for being sharp and adaptable because i) dominant Ti only accepts factual information and rises to the challenge of systematizing it for effective judgment/decisions, and ii) the auxiliary function actively monitors and processes any and all changes in factual information.

But when functions remain underdeveloped, Ti-Si always gets stuck working with a very limited and unchanging set of facts, and Ne-Fe is too small in scope to alert you to other possible ways of looking at situations, ways that might get you closer to the truth.

In other words, healthy INTPs always leave room for error. They proceed through life confidently based on the facts they have on hand but always with the awareness that knowledge is provisional and might need to be updated at a later date. They never believe that they know everything, they always keep themselves open to more information, and they take the extra step to gather information that might contradict or disprove what they already know.

However, being P, the tendency to "prospect" for information can go awry when Ne is unhealthy enough to give rise to Ti-Si loop. The above healthy qualities I just listed can easily turn negative and express hidden ego issues, e.g., by making you feel insecure in not knowing, anxious about getting blindsided, and obsessive-compulsive in needing to know more (due to having no clear goal, unrealistic goals, or constantly moving the goalposts).

Contrasting healthy and unhealthy Ne expression, what is the lesson? If you hope to be a healthy INTP, you have to learn how to sit comfortably in ambiguity and uncertainty. If you hope to be a mature INTP, you have to love a challenge and go the extra mile to welcome and embrace ambiguity and uncertainty as vehicles for learning and growing into a more intelligent person.

(2) Theory of Mind: How does the above apply to social life? Relationships are full of ambiguity and uncertainty, are they not? Sure, in theory, solving relationship problems should be a simple matter of good communication and clearing up misunderstandings.

However, in reality, good communication is very hard to come by. Why? Because… people. Human psychology is messy AF. People contain multitudes, and in some cases, multitudes of contradictions. They often don't know themselves well enough to know what they really need/want/like, let alone communicate these things clearly to another person.

What's worse, what people think they know about themselves can sometimes be false, which leads them in all sorts of wrong directions. You brought up a good example of thinking that you are a kind person, yet you keep getting feedback to indicate that you aren't as kind as you believe. Human perception can be very flawed, so how you see yourself and others can get very distorted. This raises the question of how to navigate the messiness.

The first step is to see and accept people as what they really are (Ti). Humans are complicated. They are not programmed or programmable machines. They can want contradictory things. They can change their mind on a whim. They can say one thing and do another. They can believe wholeheartedly in complete falsehoods. They are capable of reprehensible acts. They can also be resilient, steadfast, honest, loyal, noble, passionate, inspired, innovative, determined, dedicated, empathetic, loving, and altruistic. If humans weren't so complicated, social life would be terribly boring.

If you really want to understand people better, you have to exercise better imagination (Ne) and recognize the full scope of their potential, both positive and negative. When you have a very full view of humans, you'll be quicker to recognize the truth of each individual. But when you have a very small and limited view of humans, you'll find yourself constantly confused or blindsided by their behavior.

Some of this fuller view simply comes with life experience, but the majority of it should come from making an effort to expose yourself to different kinds of people and creating opportunities to expand your understanding of human nature.

(3) Ego Development: What does this mean for improving your social skills? Firstly, on your part, you have to see and acknowledge your own complexity. One reason I emphasize the importance of self-awareness is that, without it, you'll never come to see or appreciate your own complexity.

The way you view yourself at age 20 will be very different than age 40. It's not necessarily because you've changed a whole lot in that time, in fact, most people don't change very much throughout life, objectively speaking. What really happens is that you gradually learn more and more about who you really are over time, and that changes your self-perception.

When you're young, ego development is still in early stages, which means the ego is still in a fragile state. As you build a personal identity, you get heavily invested in seeing yourself a certain way, and it can hurt the ego when that self-image gets contradicted. This leads people to become defensive of their self-image and avoid situations that disturb it.

What they have yet to realize is that taking down the false self-image is precisely how one gets closer to knowing the truth of oneself. One must surrender to the pain of that takedown in order to grow. Are you willing to surrender to the pain of realizing that you are not the person you've always believed yourself to be, that you're possibly a much worse person than you thought?

Until you can recognize the truth of your own complex humanity and the full scope of your own positive and negative potential, you will always struggle to understand others, because it is likely that you will remain stuck in a state of projection. Projection means that your perception of others is always tainted by your own unconscious ego issues, i.e., you don't see the world as it is but as you are.

For example, you are a person who prefers to communicate directly, and this unconsciously sets up an expectation that others should do it too or be capable of doing it. Whenever others prove to be very different from you, you get confused or flustered. Your mind isn't open enough to gather the whole truth about people when your first instinct is to assume people are or should be just like you.

Secondly, on the part of the relationship, you have to acknowledge the reality that, at this moment, not everyone is within your capability to understand and is therefore not going to be very compatible with you. There's a reason why we seem to click with some people better than others. While relationships do require work to maintain, there's a certain point at which the expenditure of effort starts to bring diminishing returns. At that point, it might be time to throw in the towel and admit that the relationship isn't going to work in its current manifestation.

For example, if you're looking for someone who is capable of having a mature, honest, and authentic discussion about relationship issues, then you have to weed out the people who haven't yet developed that capability. It's not about being mean or critical; it's about recognizing the facts of what someone can or can't do and making a smart choice about whether it's possible to have a healthy relationship with them.

(4) Exercising Good Judgment: Making evaluations of people and relationships isn't easy because there are a variety of factors to take into consideration. One problem Ti doms often run into is that they don't take enough factors into consideration (inferior Fe), i.e., they are too undiscerning and often just passively take whatever relationships come their way.

When you approach relationships too abstractly or intellectually or flexibly, you can easily fall into the trap of thinking that any relationship can work in theory, if only you did this or they did that. In reality though, the effort it would take to implement those changes wouldn't be worth it due to diminishing returns, or those changes are simply infeasible (and you might slowly destroy yourself or the relationship by trying to force the change).

An important step in acknowledging your own complex humanity is to admit that you have needs, preferences, and desires... AND be okay with them changing over time, as you learn more about yourself. Needs, preferences, and desires should be informing you of what kind of person is best suited to being your friend or partner.

There are billions of people in this world. If you want a positive, enriching, and fulfilling social life, you have to be proactive and selective in finding the right people for you to keep company with. There are only a few basic criteria that need to be present in every relationship, such as: kindness, trust, empathy, etc. But what about the other qualities of the person? What does your ideal friend/partner look like?

(5) Navigating Conflict: An important aspect of having good social skills is accepting the fact that conflict is necessary for relationships to grow over time. A relationship without disagreements and problems isn't a real relationship. The question is whether the two people involved are: i) committed enough to the relationship to make things better, ii) equipped with the relationship skills required to resolve problems properly, and iii) on the same page and want the same things out of the relationship.

To the first point, not everyone you meet will be as committed as you, so you have to use your best judgment about whether it's worthwhile to continue with them. Also, reflect on how committed you are to a relationship and whether it is accurately reflected in your everyday behavior. Remember that Fe is an extraverted function that requires taking action and cannot only be about empty words or silent intentions.

To the second point, as long as both individuals are willing to learn and improve their relationship skills, there will continue to be hope for the relationship to get better. Although, keep in mind that the learning process isn't always linear and smooth. There will inevitably be steps forwards and backwards.

To the third point, you can discuss with people what they want out of the relationship, what their goals are, or what they hope the relationship can become in the future. A relationship has a greater chance of success when there is agreement about which direction to go. If people refuse such discussions or don't take them seriously, then it casts serious doubt over their commitment, which circles back to the first point.

It sounds like you are motivated to improve your social skills. If people aren't being honest with you, you have to get to the bottom of why. Perhaps the problem lies mainly in you not really hearing what people need from you because you keep failing to address the feelings they are communicating, which is a common communication problem. If that's the case, you need to work on your listening skills and communication skills in general. Perhaps the problem lies mainly in the other person not being able to express themselves honestly for whatever reason. Or it could be a combination of the two.

The best you can do is welcome people to be honest with you, by guaranteeing to them that you can handle the truth and encouraging them to speak directly. However, you have no control over whether they can do it. It's their issue to deal with and there's no forcing it.

#intp #intp relationships #auxiliary ne #inferior fe #social skills #projection #theory of mind #communication #ask

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campbyler · 1 year ago

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mmm what the fuck?

how am i supposed to live like a normal functioning person after experiencing the full range of human and Inhuman emotions?

thea i love u i promise but i also want to kill u in the most cruel way possible.

i was trying to read 32k words one hour before the work and failed Miserably 😭 i only get through driving lesson part. can u believe i had to do actual work the entire day instead of reading my gay fanfiction? 💔heartbreaking misogynistic And homophobic if u ask me.

anyway. i know im going to forget something. it always happens and then im too shy to send other asks so let hope it doesn’t happen this time.

driving lesson.

don’t worry about ur manual transmission description. i’ve changed three instructors in the span of year and a half and all three of them told me different things. i didn’t notice any Big Serious issues that would be at odds with driving mechanic.

to the other news. will sucks 😭😭 not his fault Obviously. he’s naturally anxious and tbh mike didn’t give him any hints about how to feel when the car is ready to go. not mikes fault too. i bet he doesn’t even think about this little thing anymore (and cause u don’t know about them either. which is ok don’t worry about it. u probably just need to experience it ti fully understand). i was so happy when will finally manage to get the car going 😭😭 i probably called him baby too.

and then i literally passed out when i saw the mike called Him baby?? first will’s brain in denial made me questioning was it really for him or for the car. cause mike Loves that car i wouldn’t be surprised if he really call it baby from time to time. but then i remembered that we know how mike feels thanks god and i became like 85% sure that it was for will. (i also Run to check playlist right after this line. yeah i found “king of my heart” there. u make the impossible possible cause why am i listening to two of my least favorite reputation songs and genuinely enjoy them?)

i mentally add the keychains to the list of things we need to know more about. but i think it’s cute that they both not only save them but also use them almost daily. and they both choose car keys to hang the keychains on. dare i say soulmates.

*two weeks later*

also i think it’s funny they consider each other hot while driving.

and of course mike is obsessed with old expensive cars!!

are the malls in the us exactly dying? my office building is near the mall and i can guarantee u that in my country they r super alive.

ok i might be wrong but i think that the deleted scene is from bookstore part idk.

i think it’s cute that they trust each other enough to allow to choose as significant item as journals concerning that they really picky about them.

and i loved that mike blushed over a simple kiss 🫶🏻🫶🏻

(i feel like i want to catch up on everything and it’s killing me cause i write down one thing and immediately remember the other 😭)

THEY WERE SO BOYFRIENDS IN DINER!!! i don’t think i will ever recover from how cute they r and how much they actually like each other (and how single i am. as the classic said “when someone will prey on my neurodivergency….” and so on and so forth). i love that everyone can see it and im obsessed that boys don’t even want to deny it. i think a lot about the fact that mike said that they middle school sweethearts like he regrets about the missed opportunities (but also he doesn’t regret cause the thing they have now (at this exact moment. cause i still have bad feeling) is like that Because of years of semi-friendship and rivalry and unsaid confessions).

and i think even more about the fact that mike didn’t want to talk about his pretentious ivy league college. squinting so hard and taking a lot of notes (in fact writing paragraphs of analysis to my friends who has no idea what acswy).

the photobooth scene!!! omg i can’t believe u almost deleted it all??? suni is our hero! lots of hugs and kisses and thanks to them!!

i can’t believe mike talked about showing pictures to their friends in one minute and literally kissing will on them in the other. i love them they r so silly and in love and can’t get enough of each other. u can feel how close they become and that the air is thick with the newfound (and rediscovered) feelings. and they can’t live without touching and the hold hands constantly!!! all day long!!! and it’s not enough!!! and oh. i think it wasn’t the last time we saw pictures (squinting even harder).

the way max immediately cut the bullshit and asked about swearshirt. i need to know what lucas wrote to mike.

he likes him!!!

i love the difference between mikes “i know i like him but i won’t do anything about it” and wills “i need to kiss him to death right now!”

and the kiss on the backseat of mikes stupid mustang!! we were all waiting for it!

i think i reread and memorized the last part and in still shaking whenever i think about “nervous” part. mike makes will nervous!! and he makes him shake and do stupid stuff like kissing and blushing and thinking to add heart next to his name and call him his boyfriend!!! omg!!

“I’ve got you, baby” WHO WILL GET ME??? im the one who is going insane??? it’s so tender. my boys 💔💔💔

(the second time. my eyes r hurting from squinting that much. and i feel like we’ll have “el’s not stupid” kind of scene in the flashbacks)

this character hits so hard!! i’ve never doubted any of u but i can see why this one is one of ur favorite thea!

thank u so much for ur hard work. if i could draw i would to the whole ass animation of this chapter (and any other too).

love u. thank u for reading all this rambling

mmm what the fuck is RIGHT alya bc this is how i feel every time i read one of ur lovely essay comments. bc whaqt the fuck. why do u want me to CRY ALL THE TIME. (i guess it's fair considering we are making u cry with the fic itself but still . Rude)

you are so real for trying to read 32k in one hour and also so me . rly fucked up and cruel that you would have to work (even tho u threatened to murder me)...i hope you are freed from these perils Soon. don't ever be too shy to send more asks tho every ask from you is a BLESSING and a TREAT!!! EVEN WHENTHEY ARE LACED W THREATS!!!!!!!!!!!! and also tysm for validating my manual driving lesson description bc fr every video i watched was different and i was so stressed but it's FINE. ALYA SIGNED OFF ON IT SO NO ONE ELSE MATTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!! DEAL W IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! will Does suck and that's one thing we can all agree on 💗💗💗 i was going to include a bit about likee what the engine Sounds like bc i know it sounds different when you're ready to switch gears but honest tbhly the driving scene alone is like 12k and i was super losing steam by the time i thought of it so i didn't <3 he is def a baby and mike def refers to his car as baby so he is right to be confused. but it WAS for him!! we actually aren't 100% sure of mike's feelings Yet (ch08 is meant to be the precipice of a realization, not an actual one) but obviously . we do have a pretty good idea of how he does feel. teehee. also i am glad you are enjoying komh now bc wtf......how is it one of your least faves................i support you but i am also judging u a little alya .

i think keychains will be included in one of the companions :o) also OBVIOUSLY they find each other hot while driving. they're both annoying and down bad 🙄🙄

malls here are super dying!! i think the only ones that aren't are ones in Major Cities (there's two nearby me that are pretty popular, but the other ones are mostly closed, and it's definitely been a phenomenon in the us over the last few years thanks to online shopping)!! the deleted scene is actually from the driving scene, but the bookstore scene Feels shorter bc i was truly at the point where i had nothing left to give when writing it (it was the last part of ch09 to be written), so it definitely suffered from that. if we ever do Huge post-mortem edits once acswy is over, i might go back and add to it, or write a deleted-scene-type companion, but tht's the tea w the bookstore scene <3

the diner scene was SOOOO fun to write and it had me blushing frfr. i answered this in another ask but the middle school sweethearts comment was Definitely the most insane thing that i thought of for this chapter and to me it was for sure the nail in the coffin for will of like damn. ok. he's Serious abt this. bc i think with their #history that will has trouble admitting even to himself that he likes mike, and so he'd need to feel pretty certain of how mike feels first, and after processing the middle school sweethearts comment later in the car that's what made him realize like oh damn. i Do like him. SO MUCH. and we all nodded and patted his back and said yeah baby we know. but what you described mike thinking is absolutely exactly how he feels 💗 very reminiscent and wistful, even.

LOL LITERALLY THIS HAS BEEN A UNANIMOUS COMMENT ACROSS THE BOARD OF "THANK GOD FOR SUNI" (INCLUDING MYSELF). to Explain the way i was feeling about it -- i did not initially mean to have that be a Spicy make out moment! it was supposed to read more along the lines of the thrift store scene, or even the kiss after will finished driving the mustang, so very sweet and soft and Romantic. it just didn't come out that way once i was actually writing it, and so i was nervous that i was toeing the line too heavily, or tht it was out of place with the rest of the vibe i had constructed for the chapter. a combination of suni (and abby, who got early access and acted as our second beta) being adamant that it Did fit and worked well, and me being too pressed for time/not having enough energy to rewrite that saved it from the deleted scene graveyard <3 thank god fr. they are both so fucking stupid.

the entiiiiire realization scene up from will realizing he likes mike to the very end of the chapter is my favorite thing that i have ever written i think 💗 i am just so happy with the way it turned out, especially with it being at the point in the fic that it's at!! it felt rly right for will :') also mike calling him baby!!! that was such a last minute decision but i'm so glad i went for it!! the original line was "i've got you, yeah?" but baby hit So much harder so shout out to editing thea for making that change 🤸 will wants to add a heart next to mike's name in his phone SOOOO BAD!!! WHEN WILL HE GET TO!!!!!!!!!!!

your second ask SO TRUE SO REAL. TEEHEE AND MWAHA AND SO ON AND SO FORTH. also you're so right jonathan is so fucked up for stealing steve from will like that 🙄

tytyty as always for your novel length comment alya 💗 really and genuinely and truthfully the thought of getting to read ur reactions is one of the most exciting parts of uploading a chapter!! i eagerly await all of ur other reactions <3333

#asks #ch09 #acswy spoilers #fave

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doverstar · 2 years ago

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abed/annie is my community otp, so I would love to hear your essay if you’re willing to share ♥️

girl it would be my pleasure

this is going to be an absolutely enormous word-vomit, please prepare-

I want to start off by saying I actually think Abed is genuinely a little bit crazy. Yes, he might be on the spectrum or have some disorder but the show is so loose with that it never really confirms it, so I’m not going to confirm it either, I just think there’s something-something-spectrum there but I’m not educated enough to understand exactly what they’re communicating he has or is dealing with. I think the safest thing to assume is indeed that he’s insane (he said it himself; he saw literal lava when Troy was leaving) but in a small, functional, unique way that doesn’t make him dangerous except when he wants to cut people’s arms off because “Evil Abed has taken over” hello someone do something about that –

Anyway. It’s super difficult for me to understand what goes on in his head episode-to-episode, but with Annie it’s actually easier? Abed has such a specific set of needs when it comes to relationships that it’s a miracle he found the study group at all. He’s so smart and creative and he’s actually very empathetic and sweet but he doesn’t always seem to know how to express things.

Annie is clearly Abed’s second-best friend in the show (it helps that the actor/actress are best friends too). When he can’t turn to Troy, he can always turn to Annie. She understands him and there’s never been a point where we see that start or end—it just naturally happened and they’re both used to it. Abed is always touching her, always sitting by her, always making eye contact with her, and if you pay close attention to even background scenes, he’s measuring her reactions to things more often than anyone else’s. If I had to guess, I think she’s the group member he understood faster than any of the others. Abed (this is, from what I’m told, part of being on the spectrum? but like I said I am uneducated and don’t want to definitively say something the show decided not to be clear about) needs certain things to be a certain way, or he can’t operate normally. He panics, or gets angry, or tries to mutilate Jeff Wingers. He genuinely thinks he is crazy, and he genuinely thinks no one he meets will be able to deal with him for an extended amount of time. (Let’s begin at the beginning from his POV.) Abed meets Annie (and the group), and she seems like the typical Molly Ringwald girl-next-door; pretty, smart, wants popularity, ambitious. That’s why he chose her when he created the study group. Annie is all of these cliched things, but hey, quickly it’s pretty clear Annie needs things to be a certain way. Annie needs structure and lists and good grades. So she gets it when Abed needs that, what a pleasant surprise! And part of that is that Annie empathizes with everyone around her, without even trying, so much so that she’s depicted often as the heart of the whole study group. She gets Abed, both because they’re the same in lots of ways and they’re the opposite. She can crush easily, explode easily, cry easily, laugh easily. Everything Abed has no idea how to emote. Annie is a volcano of emotions, and they’re triggered most when she’s feeling because of or on behalf of other people.

So here’s this girl near his own age who is orderly and structured, and knows how other people feel and can enter in with them emotionally, including Abed. She’s so nice, and tries so hard. She’s even good at playing pretend (Mixology Certification, party of one?). What a perfect leading lady for the life-movie Abed sees everywhere he goes (because that’s how he makes sense of the world). Annie is the ideal female star he’d want in any story: the girl full of passion and drive.

But then there’s Jeff—the study group’s Judd Nelson—presumably the perfect leading man. When Abed first handpicks the group in the pilot and first season, Jeff wants Britta. Hey, that makes sense, Britta seems to be the leading lady type, actually! She’s nice, she’s strong, she’s beautiful. Works perfectly. And look, Annie wants Troy—the brainy bubbly girl wants the dumb jock, that makes sense too. Everything works. Then things start changing within the dynamic. Troy is actually not that dumb, and not that sports-obsessed—he’s fun, and he’s the ideal bro for Abed, but he doesn’t work with Annie. Britta is not that nice, and not that strong—she’s bad at everything, and she doesn’t understand people, she just wants to and is constantly trying to portray (and then hopefully become) the kind of person that does. And Jeff is a stunted jerk who needs reformation.

Oh, Annie is Abed’s friend now too. She said it herself, and that’s rare in Abed’s life. She called them really good friends, and that’s so important to him that he’ll sit in a room for 26 straight hours with nothing to do because Annie asked him to do it. Troy is not the only character Abed would give up control for. There’s one other from the start, because the moment she told him with all her earnest doe-eyedness they were friends, she had him hook line and sinker.

Season 1 progresses. Jeff and Britta might still work, and Abed seems mildly interested in that if only for the cliches—maybe Britta can make him better. No, wait, Britta is bad at that too. Actually, they’re not good for each other. Actually, they’re bad for each other—they’re bad for everyone. But they have similar terrible flaws and habits, so maybe they do make a good pair. Still fine leads. Still works. And besides, Annie has filled in the place of Troy with hippie Vaughn, which is also fine. Doesn’t really work long-term, but Jeff and Britta drive the plot forward more anyway, so the focus should be on them, right? The group is working. The group is thriving. The TV of life moves along.

(Except Jeff kissed Annie to win the Man Is Good/Evil debate. And Abed predicted it. Which means he was thinking about that as a possibility, because he operates on variables and tries to understand outcomes so that he’s not surprised by anything and can keep his friends for longer by relating to and reacting to them better. Jeff has leading man vibes, Annie has leading lady vibes, that’s one potential outcome. And though he insists he’s just making hypotheses based on what he’s learned about his friends so far, when it does happen right in front of them in real life, they kiss, Abed is just as shocked as the others—he literally can’t take his eyes off them until the debate is won. Then afterward, he tells Shirley he can’t predict the future and uses his plans for Pierce being discovered as a genius next in his home-movies as an example, which he believes would never happen—then Britta calls Pierce a genius right in front of him and Abed looks visibly concerned. Maybe what he predicts about his friends will keep happening, even the things he thinks are the least likely of the potential outcomes. Maybe even Jeff and Annie as the two leads. But that doesn’t make sense, does it? Jeff and Britta are endgame, aren’t they? Annie is too young for a leading man like Jeff. Annie is too nice; Jeff is too selfish. Annie is gorgeous and driven, Jeff is handsome and needs fixing, that would work, no, it would change things too much, it’s too unlikely, back to Jeff and Britta, back to playing with Troy and studying film, don’t give it a second thought—)

Transfer dance happens. Annie is going away for the summer with Vaughn. Classic Annie, has his back, always doing the better thing for the plot, bringing a good end-of-Season twist, but it’s okay, as far as he knows she’ll be back in the fall and besides, Abed’s got to-roomie-or-not-roomie with Troy issues to deal with.

And then the new semester starts after the transfer dance. And Anthropology 101 happens (again, one of my favorite episodes for the group fight at the end when it comes to my lil ships). I’M GONNA TALK ABOUT ANTHROPOLOGY 101 NOW. For A CHUNK of time. Jeff and Britta are doing relationship-drama stuff Abed doesn’t quite care about, until Shirley suggests he’s being selfish and that a real friend would enter into Jeff and Britta’s [incredibly fake and nasty] “happiness” and Abed thinks that could work. Actually, progressing Jeff and Britta’s relationship is a goal he can definitely work with. In fact, if you pay attention to the show, whenever there is an opportunity to advance or out Jeff/Britta, Abed takes that opportunity. And whenever there is an opportunity to put JeffAnnie in an uncomfortable or inevitable, c’est la vie light (which two independence-heavy freaks like Jeff and Annie would consider negatively) he takes that too.

Abed urges Jeff/Britta to get married right there in the library before the fight, gives them the ring, because he thinks that’s the next logical step in their grossness. Special episode, all about Jeff/Britta, endgame endgame endgame! He can work with that. In fact, he’s happy to control that. He leaves the room to inexplicably get an Irish singer, dead-ringer Clooney, and a transportable wedding set.

When he comes back and tries to prep the group for the special wedding episode, everyone is tense and Jeff is bleeding from the nose, and Abed does not notice; he’s intent on advancing the plot and the endgame. Then Troy says, “Abed. Jeff made out with Annie.” And Abed’s immediate reaction is “What? Where? When?” And he looks unhappy, like the rest of them. Jeff made out with Annie, and that means everything Abed thought he understood is incorrect. (And I think it bothers the crap out of him and he doesn’t have the ability to unpack why that is the way most people do because he’s different. Surely he’s just angry for the same reasons the rest of the group is? That must be it. That must be why he’s angry specifically with Jeff, not Britta in any tangible way, or even Annie in a tangible way—until later, which I’ll talk about eventually.) Annie tells him they kissed after the transfer dance in a guilty voice, which is a sheepishness she does not respond with to any of the other members of the group. It’s almost like she’s picking up on Abed’s emotion specifically this time. And while everyone else in the group explodes, and Jeff reduces his kiss with Annie to something he should be ashamed of (accurate) because men are monsters who crave young flesh and Annie looks absolutely crushed like a deer in the headlights, Abed starts packing up to leave. And we only see how angry he is right then—he doesn’t enter into anyone else’s problems. We see him react to “Jeff made out with Annie”, and then this is the next time we see him react. Jeff asks where he’s going and Abed throws out a quippy “I now pronounce you cancelled” with a bounce of his eyebrows in an angry way, at Jeff, and when he tries to leave Jeff hurls insults at his back and Abed stops in the doorway, in a normal-person—again, angry—way and turns around and drops one of the sickest burns of the whole show, that TV makes sense and has “likeable leading men”, and says “In life, we have this. We have you.” And walks out. His anger is not directed at anybody else. He doesn’t help Troy with the Pierce situation. He doesn’t try to fix any of it. It’s like he heard “Jeff made out with Annie”, learned the specifics, and was standing there reeling until eventually he decided he couldn’t deal and went to leave, and wouldn’t have shown just how angry he was with Jeff unless Jeff had provoked him, which he did.

IT'S ALMOST LIKE HE’S MAD JEFF KISSED ANNIE, JUSSAYIN’-

let me pretend I’m a 14-year-old shippy fangirl in my reasoning, okay-

Abed likes logic, and as Season 2 continues, Jeff/Annie gets more and more logical. In fact, even though he has noticed that Jeff and Britta are secretly hooking up in the background of the Season, he is not surprised in Paradigms of Human Memory when Annie calls Jeff out for the will-they-won’t-they he’s been enacting with her, and even says there is something between the two of them, matter-of-factly, which Jeff refuses to own up to. But Abed and Annie are getting closer and closer, too. It’s subtle, but it’s clear they’re 100% comfortable around each other. That becomes super clear by Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, when, besides Troy, Annie is the only other character to enter into Abed’s way of thinking and play with him, because it’s genuinely important to him and she recognizes that this is what he needs, when everyone else kind of drops off. She helps Abed and Troy stop Duncan from dealing with Abed in a practical, normal way, because she sees that Abed is dealing with something and can only deal with it his way to get through it. That’s incredibly rare for Abed, we see. He’s very attached to her—like I said, often touching her, often sitting by her, often reacting to her.

(I mean hi, in English As A Second Language, Abed thinks he won’t be affected by Annie’s Disney Face; when everyone else obeys Jeff in closing their eyes to it, Abed doesn’t. “Oh don’t worry about me, I can only connect to people through...movies...” literally stops in his tracks when he sees her Disney Face with the cutest wistful twitch of a smile. Jeff has to Indiana-Jones-reference him to make him look away. He doesn’t only connect to people through movies—at least, Annie can get through to him without the need of movies; he’s not a quirky lil robot, he can have normal feelings, but boy does it seem like Annie is the one bringing them out of him more often than most. she gets under his skin ajhzsdkejdb-)

Abed definitely has a crush on Annie. But he doesn’t know how to deal with that or portray it. To his mind, Annie should be with a leading man. Any time he flirts with her, he is pretending to be a leading man from a movie or show. (For a Few Paintballs More, anyone?) Because that’s who she should be paired off with. And that’s what she wants, right? She loooves Jeff Winger now. Britta’s not the leading lady, she never was, that role was always Annie’s, and it makes sense she wants Jeff, and it makes even more sense that Abed is observing the love story, not part of it. Abed is not the leading man, he’s the computer. He watches, analyzes, does not get involved or get the girl.

But he still wants her around, and he can have that much—in fact, when he moves in with Troy and Annie tells him she loves their place, Abed instantly suggests she move in. Not Abed and Troy. Just Abed, and he does not discuss it with his roommate. And Troy seems confused and surprised and gives Abed such an interesting look right after. Annie moves in, Abed agrees to sacrifice some of his routine for her (blanket fort for he and Troy, full bedroom for Annie), things are happy. Things are fine. She puts away his buttered noodles when he’s not finished with them, but she adapts to his needs when he expresses he doesn’t want her to do that; she breaks his Batman DVD but he adapts by forgiving her in a role he can express that in—Batman himself, plus, bonus, he gets to flirt with her as that leading man—and things are better. But then Annie starts trying to control things. Annie starts trying to make life go according to the movie in her head. She tries to get Britta and Troy together, which not only robs Abed of his best friend for a day and disrupts his routine, it makes him angry with Annie. And not just because she tampered with the group’s dynamic, which he doesn’t want anyone else but him to do. okay we’re caught up NOW I get to talk about Virtual Systems Analysis, which is my FAVORITE COMMUNITY EPISODE-

Throughout that episode, Annie is trying to speak in Abed’s language in the Dreamatorium in order to teach him empathy. In the past, she’s had success in communicating with him on his level, but this seems extra hard for some reason. She sees somehow through his expressionless face right away and sees he is angry with her, and though he tries to deflect by saying she’s going to ruin the group by meddling, she eventually does recognize what the problem is. At first she’s convinced Abed just wants Abed’s way and that he needs to be taught how to think of others first (she’s right), but he hears her say that to Troy and it spirals him right into the worry he always has—that he’s crazy, that he’s a problem, that he’ll never fit in because of that, and that when Annie (and anyone else) tries to deal with or fix him, they will get sick of it, give up, and toss him aside. He was already angry with her for a different reason, not just wanting his way again—but now he’s sure she’s done with Abed, too. So he becomes someone else, everyone else, to make his point: that she’s just messing with Britta and Troy so that nothing will stand in the way of her and Jeff.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAYS WHEN HE IS PRETENDING TO BE JEFF TO HER? He says, “With Abed gone, and Troy and Britta together, there’s nothing standing in the way of us.” With Abed gone. Why did he say that? Because with Abed gone, Annie gets to be in control of everyone? Obviously not. Or is it because out of everyone, every variable, the only other match that makes sense for Britta is Troy and the only other match that makes sense for Annie is-

Oops, Freudian slip. Oh, she’s not falling for it. And Abed is mad at her because he thinks she set up Britta and Troy so she could be with Jeff. Abed is mad that that’s what she wants. And when she tries to argue it’s not, he literally pretends he is her, logicking it out at her, trying to convince her that that is what she wants, because that’s what he thinks she wants, and her controlling things to cause JeffAnnie makes him mad. But c’est la vie, it’s inevitable anyway, right? Why isn’t she seeing that? Why is she trying to talk about him, he doesn’t want to talk about him, especially not after what she said about him— Then she fights back and tells him that she does not love Jeff, she loves the idea of being loved and if she can teach a guy like Jeff to love her, she’ll never be alone. And then she finds out that’s what Abed is afraid of, too. No—that’s what Abed is used to. “I’ve run the simulations, Annie. I don’t get married. [Why is that the first thing he said?] I don’t etc. etc.”

He’s afraid he’ll be alone, and people will always be getting tired of him and throwing him away. Didn’t Annie get tired of him? But she doesn’t, she’s not—in fact, she understands him. She shows him other members of the group understand that feeling, too. She uses his language to explain to him that he’s wrong, and that neither of them should be trying to make life go according to a script in their heads. Abed sees that she does understand, and if she can get into his head and understand him, she really can do it with anyone, and if she can do it, maybe he can too. Annie helps him and makes him a better person, because she reminds him to empathize, which is something Abed didn’t think he could do. Okay I just spent a long time talking about Abed’s perspective. A tiny bit of Annie now, because this is going on too long. As for Annie, she is afraid of being alone and unloved. She’s “psycho”, she’s crazy too, because someone who empathizes that much and can exude that much emotion does seem crazy to other people. She’s a different crazy than Abed, but her brand of psycho lends itself well to getting and communicating with him, because his crazy is escapism and her crazy is confrontation. His crazy is emotionless, her crazy is emotional. His crazy is control, her crazy is compassion. Her parents cut her off, her high school shunned her, Troy never noticed her, of course she’s scared of being ditched. Of being unimportant. Annie’s need to be perfect comes from the need to feel valued. And doesn’t Abed understand the need to not feel left alone? Doesn’t he understand everything needing to be just so, doesn’t he understand wanting to feel important but never expecting it? Just the computer. Just the observer. Wait. Didn’t he invite her to live with him, voluntarily? Doesn’t he always seem to be choosing her to sit by, don’t they always seem to be reassuring one another with a look or a touch? He gets how she feels about Jeff and Britta and their monopolization (hi Basic Sandwich), he gets when she’s feeling insecure, he gets when she needs to escape, just for a second, to pretend to be someone else in any given scenario so that she can take a risk or get out of her comfort zone, and he excels at that so they often do it together. They don’t have to be alone, they have each other. Annie doesn’t have to be perfect, Abed doesn’t have to be normal, and neither of them have to be in control. But nobody listens to me and instead we have Jeff kissing Annie and Brie Larson in a sweater. And don’t get me started on VCR Maintenance and Educational Publishing and why Abed and Annie are individually trying so hard to fight each other’s third-roommate preferences-

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