#I always try to capture the lips-between-teeth crying kind of face bc it's all I know. Everyone does that right

[hajihiko]

you know I had to do it (to em) <- link

[dr3amofagame]

the amount of angst in the post-prison writing you did just gave me massive post-prison dream brainrot and i'm just. sitting here thinking about how sam dealt with the curious looks and glances and having to face what's he's done as a warden. and everyone else's reaction to everything because hey, maybe the prison WAS a torture chamber that nobody deserves to be locked in to be treated like utter trash.

(btw i love your writing and analysis! they give me so much life :DD)

thank you anon!! this universe is ,, Fun ,, im ngl -> have this continuation of it, w/ sapnap and sam!! it’s a bit messy but oh well

(edit: i added these two asks as well bc they fit and i thought it’d be a bit redundant to rewrite this scene lmao -> the implication that dream’s admissions abt exile mightve been the result of ,, torture is. uh. yikes.) 

(This one is DARK, please heed the warnings)

TW: PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE (heavy warning for this one), starvation, toxic relationship, manipulation, references to the prison and exile, c!sam/warden!sam critical, violence, blood, dark themes, emotional distress, child abuse, torture

“Be honest,” Sapnap starts, quiet. “What did you do?”

Sam opens his mouth - hesitates, looks away. He should’ve known that his vague words and half-explanations that had been enough to push away most of the crowd - or at least, postpone the conversation for later - wouldn’t have been nearly enough to convince the man standing in front of him, but a part of him must’ve hoped, anyway. He’s not ready to speak, not ready to admit anything to himself, never mind someone else entirely - but ‘ready’ doesn’t matter, not when Sapnap is right here, waiting.

(He ignores how ‘ready’ didn’t matter for Dream when Sam had gone in, that first time, pick in hand and nothing but questions and rage spinning in an endless cycle in his mind, whirling together into something incomprehensible, insatiable, vicious - he’s not thinking about it.

He can’t think about it.)

“Well?” Sapnap’s voice raises, impatience coloring his tone, and it’s almost enough to draw a chuckle to Sam’s lips - he’d always been a little overeager, not doing well with silence, waiting, even as a kid. It’s part of the reason why he got along with Dream so well, Dream jumping at the chance to spend time with someone that didn’t shut him down for rambling and Sapnap simply excited at the chance to have someone that would join him on his hare-brained schemes instead of dismissing him as a dumb kid- and oh. Right.

The scrunch of his face is the same, Sam realizes, absently, as the expression Sapnap had when he was little; it’s the same crease between his eyebrows, the same slight jut to his bottom lip. Even with a new scar decorating his left jaw and the shadows under his eyes and collection of faint wrinkles belying his stress, he doesn’t look all that different - still looks young, a kid playing dress up in armor too big and too war-torn to belong to him. It’s easy to forget, but even after all the wars they’ve fought, even with all of the combat experience he’s had, Sapnap’s still barely twenty - only a few weeks out of being a teenager.

(He crushes the thought of what that makes Dream - he’s not. Thinking. About. It.)

“Hello? Earth to Sam?” Sapnap snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Sam blinks away the memories, the guilt, boxing it up and filing it neatly away to deal with - later. Never, ideally.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Only later is now, there’s no escaping this conversation, and Sam. Really doesn’t want to be talking about this, right now. Sapnap fidgets, leaning on his right foot and then his left and then rocking back again - the feeling is mutual, then, but he knows the look in the younger’s eye well enough to know that neither of them are leaving without an explanation leaving Sam’s lips.

(Netherite and iron and smoke, bloodstained pickaxe tipping up a gaunt face, hand reaching around a too-prominent jawline with bruising force - are you going to answer my question, prisoner? Or are we going to have to do this again?

He’s not-

He can’t-)

“I-,” guilt, thick and heavy, circles his throat, chokes the words rising in his mouth. What can he even say? Can words really capture the sweat-slick desperation, the bubbling lava and heat and smoke stealing away all breath and thought, leaving nothing but a humming buzz of rage burning, hissing, begging for release? Can he really describe the endless darkness and weight settling on his shoulders, the hard edges and jagged fear taking anything soft, anything kind? Words swim in the back of his throat, try to reach his teeth, fall short; bloodstained memories haunt the back of his eyelids every time he blinks; there is so much, too much, to say, and yet nothing at all.

How does he even start?

There is no sympathy on Sapnap’s face when Sam looks, but there isn’t any cruelty either, just dark, watching eyes, lips thin and pressed together, jaw clamped shut, tense. Indifference, or a pale imitation of it, meant to hide the mess of his hair, the tremble in his hands, the helpless, desperate thing growing in his pupils. Sam understands and wishes he doesn’t; regrets, and wonders if he has the right, anymore.

“It- started, as an interrogation,” Sam stumbles over his words, stares at his hands because looking at Sapnap’s face will be too much, is too much. “I was angry. The prisoner- Dream- was desperate. That cell-” he shakes his head, remembers obsidian in his hands, remembers tearing away carpet, paintings, plants, remembers leaving the box bareboned, desolate, a cage and nothing more, “It messes with you. Screws with your head. I knew it, he knew it, but I guess we didn’t realize- I guess I didn’t realize-”

(Blood and crunching bone and shrill screams - tell me what you did to him-)

“I needed information. He wasn’t talking. I got- heated, and he laughed, and something- snapped, I guess.”

(I’ll tell you I’m sorry please please sam stop please)

“All I had on me was a pickaxe. He wasn’t talking, I was desperate - angry - I needed to know. I didn’t-”

(I just knew I needed to drag him away, he was ruining everything, he was destroying everything, I just needed him to leave before he brought down the whole damn server with him - the tnt was supposed to be a one time thing)

“It was supposed to be- one time. Was never supposed to happen, at all. But I guess I got mad - for me? For Tommy? I don’t- I don’t know, and it was- easy, you know? Take away the clock, one day. Give him less potatoes the next.”

(It was easy to do it again, I guess, mess with his invitations a little, take some of his stuff. There was nobody around but me and him and he’d ruined so much, he’d messed everything up - I thought that maybe if I took away his armor enough, he wouldn’t be able to go back. He wouldn’t ruin everything.)

“He’d done- so much. He was so awful to Tommy, to everyone- I thought I could prevent that. I thought maybe if I broke him enough, he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again. I renamed the pickaxe Will Breaker, to remind me, to remind him, I don’t know. I-”

Sam laughs, tired, poisonous, ignoring the way Sapnap whispers, stricken, looking at his hands and seeing nothing but red. Dream’s face, bruised, bloody, but glimmering with something almost like satisfaction comes to mind - and oh. Oh.

(Bloodstained teeth twisted in a bitter smile - Sam, I thought I had to.)

He gets it now. He wishes he didn't.

“I thought- ha-” His hand comes up to his face - he’s crying. When did he start crying? ”I thought I had to.”

[fangirlandiknowit101]

30 BTS writer asks: 1, 12 + 18? ❤️🌻

Almost forgot to add - thanks for asking<33333

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Unsurprisingly, it was for Naruto and Sasuke/Naruto. You can still read it in all its glory, even on ao3 lmao. Might be hard to believe but that fic (Unsuspicious title, don't ask why it's called that I have no explanations) is really the absolute first thing I wrote that counts as a fanfic. I didn't write about other people's fictional characters before that. I didn't really write much outside of school at all, not sure how I lived my life tbh...

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

I answered earlier that I want to write a horse rider au at some point, but what I'd also like is to write a real enemies to lovers fic. Like, actual enemies. But it might be too angsty, so who knows if I'll ever make it lol.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Aah you guys really want that commentary don't you... maybe one day I'll release a version of tswm with director's commentary for the whole thing hahahahaha (jk I'd never have time to do that)

But alright, I'm gonna take the opportunity to comment on another scene in tswm that I definitely this deserves it, it's the reunion scene between Naruto and Sasuke in chapter 49! I hesitated to pick this one bc it's so long and emotional, and also I don't want to add any accidental spoilers... but oh well. Here we go!

[My comments will be in bold text, this starts almost at the beginning of the chapter, right when Sasuke meets Naruto in Kaguya's place.]

He reached out with a hand, the bright light reflecting in the half-moon in his palm. It glowed, and just like that, his hand wrapped around another’s.

Naruto.

He sucked in a breath, lungs desperate for air. Naruto stood before him, chest heaving, hand clutching Sasuke’s so hard he feared it might break.

Their shared beat rang loud in his ears, eyes wide as they drank each other in. The darkness had given way to white, fuzzy light, their bodies floating, suspended in air.

“Sasuke,” Naruto whispered, as if afraid to drown out the sound of their connection.

Honestly, I tried my best to make it as painful as possible. That's all I wanted lol. At first I had no idea how to write this scene, but then I just got a feeling and tried to write it in words.

There was no hiding in this place. It was similar to that strange place that seemed to exist between them when they fought, blows connecting, hearts open. Between one breath and the next, it would be gone, their shared hearts lingering long after.

Nothing more poetic than that special place Kishimoto created for them when they exchange blows... extremely gay.

Here, there was only the two of them, the heat of their bodies as Naruto reached for his face.

“Am I dreaming?” Naruto wondered, fingers stroking along Sasuke’s cheekbone. “You look so real…”

They sank down, slowly, until their feet touched solid white. He shivered, the tips of Naruto’s fingers touching his chin, his mouth.

“It could be a dream,” Sasuke said quietly, exhaling as Naruto came closer.

“I can feel your heart,” Naruto murmured, his forehead coming to rest against Sasuke’s temple. “I missed you so much.”

Images flashed before Sasuke’s eyes, impressions of the world from Naruto’s perspective. Menma as the kyuubi. Kakashi, entering through a window. Iruka, hand gentle as he reached over the table.

Sakura, pain drawing her face tight. A mountain of paperwork. Snippets of conversation. The overwhelming pain of loneliness, like walls closing in on him.

He puzzled together enough pieces to make sense of the days since they separated.

Must be convenient to just read each other's minds... I should stop making fun of my own writing. But anyway, I felt very clever when I realized I could skip explanations between them and just let them see each other's memories of the past few days. I think it fits that they could see it through the other person's eyes, all the emotions too. Especially how painful it was for Naruto and how much he was trying to keep it together in front of his friends, and still failing. It gives Sasuke a better understanding of what would have happened if he'd decided to leave after one year passed (and I'm still bitter at Kishimoto for doing that in canon.)

“Naruto,” he sighed, lifting a hand to sift through soft strands of hair, closing his eyes as Naruto pressed into him.

Hearts bared, he felt Naruto’s desperate longing as his own. It mirrored his own pain, the aching emptiness filling his chest. Little by little, the cold was pushed away by warmth, Naruto’s mouth touching his cheek, his jaw, his throat. It burned against his skin, each point of contact erupting into tendrils of heat that seeped into his body.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Naruto confessed, lips shaping the words onto Sasuke’s throat. “I couldn’t go back to you, I-“

Sasuke turned his head, capturing his mouth. The words were lost between their lips, swallowed by the sudden surge of need. Naruto’s arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place. A fever caught him, leaving him dizzy and faint. He felt emotions between them like a physical caress, like they swirled in and out of their bodies, like a strong wind playing with fallen leaves.

Pain. Longing. Fear.

Happiness. Comfort. Love.

Naruto kissed him like he’d die if they stopped. He might, for all Sasuke knew.

Don't mind me, I was just crying buckets as I wrote this.

Their hands were still clasped tight, their palms pressed together, keeping their marks in contact. Teeth dug into his lower lip, but he could barely feel the pain over the onslaught of emotion. It was overwhelming, to share Naruto’s heart so fully. Was this how Naruto had felt, when Sasuke had touched him by accident? When Sasuke had shared too much of himself, and Naruto had been unable to give him the same in return.

I think it actually wasn't as overwhelming for Naruto when Sasuke accidentally touched him. This place that Kaguya controls just amplifies things a lot.

No such restraints now.

Their souls were on fire, like chakra flames billowing around their bodies. It was too much to make sense of, and yet it felt as if they’d always been this close, always been one and the same. Naruto fit inside him like a key, like Sasuke was now unlocked, his body no longer keeping him prisoner.

“Naruto,” he breathed out, over and over again, every nerve ending alight as they held each other.

I was listening to this song called Heat Up by Giant Rooks as I wrote this (that's where the chapter title comes from and honestly the lyrics are just *chef's kiss*) and I really tried to use as much metaphor as I could, idk if that makes it sound boring haha but for once I was definitely thinking very hard about every single sentence. And I tried to make it as "alive" as I could, so you'd feel it rather than have it described to you.

An eternity later they calmed down, mouths sliding lazily over each other, heartbeats finally finding their shared rhythm. Their foreheads pressed together, Sasuke’s eyes fluttering open to meet deep blue, their usual strength faded into self-doubt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his fingers through Naruto’s hair, thumb tracing the shell of his ear. “Don’t hide from me, not here.”

Aww look at Sasuke, so in tune with his emotions. He really is an all or nothing kind of guy. If they already share everything in this place, there's no point in having secrets. Besides, his worst fear is Naruto losing confidence because of something he said or did.

Naruto let out a sharp breath, lifting their clasped hands between their chests.

“I missed you,” he said again, eyes closing in pain. “I’m so happy you’ve been okay.”

So much pain. Sasuke struggled to make sense of it, so much of it reflected inwards, towards Naruto himself. He could understand the longing, the absence of him like a gaping hole. It mirrored his own pain, pain he’d locked inside his heart within a steel cage. It flowed freely now, wrapping around Naruto’s in recognition.

But the rest… Naruto let out a sob, and yet he was smiling. Sasuke pressed another kiss to his lips, unsure of what to say.

I know Naruto did that whole waterfall thing where he embraced his evil side and totally let go of all his negative energy... But you can't tell me he's 100% okay and only happy and never feels pain. When will Konoha start offering therapy... Jokes aside, at this moment in time Naruto is so conflicted. The whole time he's been worried about Sasuke leaving him, and telling himself that Sasuke would be happier in the other dimension, and that logically he should let Sasuke stay, but he absolutely doesn't want Sasuke to leave him. It's the most selfish thing he's ever felt, I think, this need to have Sasuke by his side. And he's got so much on his shoulders, just piling up, everyone relying on him to somehow magically fix the world. And he's afraid of failing, of acknowledging to himself that there are parts of him that aren't ready to shoulder this burden, that he's still hurting, that there's still a part of him that could have become like Menma. He's supposed to be completely selfless but he isn't, and he thinks of that as a character flaw, a personal failure. And that's kind of where his resolution to not become hokage comes from. Because he doesn't think he can remove this selfish parts of him, and so maybe he should embrace them instead.

“Sasuke, it’s so strange…” Naruto started, his words slow, carefully chosen. “You understand Charasuke so well, but Menma… I can’t accept him. And now I realize, he shows the ugliest parts of me. The parts that I’m afraid of.”

They both leaned back a little, to see each other’s faces. Light played over Naruto’s features, blurring him at the edges. Sasuke cupped his cheek, tilting his chin up so that their eyes met. Now that he knew what to look for, he could feel Naruto’s fear.

“It’s always there,” Naruto confessed, raw honesty in his voice. “The fear of losing you. The fear of not being strong enough. The fear of becoming hokage, and failing.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to say something, to reassure him, but Naruto shook his head quickly.

Sasuke, on the other hand, he never held himself up to be a good person. He's well aware that he has weaknesses, that he's putting up walls so he won't have to deal with emotions and stuff. But he does believe (a bit blindly) in Naruto, I think. Even though he thinks Naruto won't succeed, it's not because of anything that Naruto does or fails to do. He thinks it's because the world won't follow him, that Konoha isn't capable of change. But he never thought that Naruto would actually give up or have these kinds of doubts.

“Let me say this. I didn’t understand it at first. Menma always rubbed me the wrong way. I know you don’t like him either, but for me… It’s like looking at myself and knowing I gave up.”

He drew in a deep breath, his fingers trembling around Sasuke’s.

“And now, here, I can’t avoid that fear. Because all of it… all of it is for you, Sasuke.” He swallowed, and through the fear, Sasuke saw his determination. “You asked me, if there’s any room in my head for anyone but you. And there isn’t.”

Naruto's brain is 99% Sasuke and 1% ramen, that's just fact. That aside, this might be one of my favorite quotes in the fic.

Frowning, Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek to stay silent. Naruto was working up to something, he could tell, and part of him couldn’t help but think it would end the two of them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Naruto said, drawing the pad of his thumb over Sasuke’s eyebrow, the touch equal parts reassuring and painful. “I can hear your thoughts, you know. Do you really believe that I would choose anything else over you?”

A lie caught on Sasuke’s tongue. He didn’t want to believe it, but what place did he have by Naruto’s side? How could he be all that Naruto wanted him, needed him, to be? How could he be someone that others would accept walking by his side?

Oh, Sasuke. Always so ready for Naruto to cast him aside. He doesn't want to stand in the way of Naruto's dreams *wipes tear*

“I don’t believe that you would want to,” he replied, eventually. “But maybe you should.”

They stood for a long time, looking at each other. Sasuke felt torn in two directions. He wanted to tell Naruto to never leave him. He wanted to say that he’d accept anything. That he’d remove himself from Naruto’s presence to make the choice for him. That he couldn’t, wouldn’t, stand between Naruto and his dreams.

That he’d known, all along, that the other dimension was only a dream. An impossibility. That he accepted this, and wouldn’t resent Naruto for choosing the village over him.

I think the difference between Naruto and Sasuke here, is that even though they both think the other should maybe leave them for better things, Naruto is much less ready to actually give Sasuke up. Sasuke is more of the martyr type lol.

“You deserve me,” Naruto said, voice dark with conviction. “Don’t you dare think otherwise. Don’t you understand? If you saw what I’ve been doing the past days…”

Naruto lifted their joined hands higher, shifted his grip until he held Sasuke’s palm open in front of himself.

“I thought only of you. I cared only about you. What good is the village to me, if you’re not there?”

His heart felt too heavy in his chest. Naruto’s words rang through his ears, the implication behind them ensnaring his heart until Naruto held it in his hand, too.

“I don’t want any of it, if you’re not with me.”

Sasuke lowered his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to give in. He’d already given so much, and although he knew that Naruto would have this, too, it was too much in this moment.

“Sasuke… When are you going to recognize that you’re a good person? That even if our relationship hadn’t changed like this, I’d still need you beside me?”

I wanted to write this part so badly... To make Naruto tell Sasuke that he's a good person. That Naruto thinks so, at least. It's one of the first things I thought of for this scene. Not that Sasuke agrees haha.

“Me, a good person?” Sasuke raised his eyebrows, meeting Naruto’s gaze again. He recognized the stubborn glint in Naruto’s eyes, and sighed. “Even if that was true, you’re smart enough to know it’s not enough.”

Slowly, Naruto pulled his hand closer, his grip turning gentle. Sasuke caught himself holding his breath, as Naruto’s lips connected with the mark on his palm.

“You still don’t understand,” Naruto murmured, the movement of his lips tickling Sasuke’s skin. “The past few days, what have you been doing? Caring for the children, when I wasn’t there to do it. Putting Charasuke before yourself, comforting him in the ways he needed you to. Holding yourself together. Trusting me to come back.”

This is where we acknowledge exactly how much Sasuke has changed. Naruto spent the days apart thinking only of Sasuke, even to the point where he was neglecting his friends and duties. Sasuke, on the other hand, stepped up to fill the role he thought Naruto left behind, hiding his pain behind helping others. Ultimately trusting Naruto to hold his promise to come back. Also, I just want them to be soft with each other T_T

Staring at him, Sasuke’s breath caught in his chest at the swell of pride Naruto felt for him. Was it true, that he had changed so much? In Naruto’s eyes, he had. It was startling, to realize how Naruto thought of him. But Naruto had changed too, he thought. They had grown closer, in a way he didn’t think they could have in their own Konoha.

“I think Charasuke is a bit like you,” Sasuke said, lips twitching upwards at Naruto’s affronted look. “He needs physical comfort. I don’t mind giving it to you, and I guess I don’t mind giving it to him either. You both tend to do whatever you feel like, anyway.”

“You used to mind.” Naruto looked serious, reaching out to touch Sasuke’s mouth as if to prove his point. “Suddenly, you didn’t.”

The smile slipped from Sasuke’s lips. Naruto was right. A few weeks ago, he did push Charasuke out of the window. To be fair, Charasuke hadn’t liked him much back then, either, and the circumstances had been very different. He did understand him better now. If Menma represented Naruto’s fears, Charasuke represented everything Sasuke wanted in life. But Charasuke didn’t have Naruto, didn’t have Menma with him either, and maybe that was why Sasuke wanted to be there for him. His connection with Naruto was precious to him, had kept him going, had kept him questioning himself even in his worst moments of darkness. Had given him a reason not to give up on a life that wasn’t filled with pain and hatred.

Naruto made it worth it to change. Was he hoping to help Charasuke change, too?

Spoiler alert... yes you were, Sas.

Perhaps Kaguya had something to do with it, but maybe, even without her influence, he would have reached this point anyway if given enough time. Time they didn’t have back home. It surprised him to realize that Naruto had thought of this already. That he felt selfish for wanting Sasuke to go back with him, when he knew it would be painful.

“You minded when I touched you, too,” Naruto added, as a reminder that they were talking about the two of them.

“I didn’t.” It was easy to confess. “I couldn’t allow myself to accept it, but I never minded. And now…”

Even if Naruto could read most of his thoughts in this space, it was difficult to say the words.

“I was afraid to have more of you. I still am.  Because I know they’ll never accept it.”

Sasuke vs homophobia :( Can't really kill that with a sword. Sasuke was definitely in love with him before they went to the RTN dimension, he'd just buried it so deep that he had no idea it was there or what it was. If you separate love from attraction it's not really gay, is it? (It is)

Naruto kissed him again, desperately. There were so many thoughts swirling between them, a mess of images and emotions overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of losing each other.

Naruto’s guilt, for not being able to reach Menma like Sasuke reached Charasuke. Their worry for each other. The frustration of being forced to wait. Sasuke’s slow realization of how much Naruto meant to him. How much his family meant to him, even a different version of them.

“I can’t be without you again,” Naruto said, swallowing thickly. “There’s so much I want to say and I don’t know how.”

“I’m here,” Sasuke promised. “Any way you want me to be.”

Even though it hurt, knowing the struggle that lay ahead of them, how Naruto had struggled only the past few days.

He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but Naruto’s hands holding his face between them made him open them again. His expression was serious, almost solemn.

“I think you’d be happier if you stayed there,” Naruto whispered, searching his eyes. “You can’t deny it. I know they’d take care of you, and I can tell that your bond with your family is important to you. In a different way than ours, but still. I’d forgive you, if you chose them.”

Stop sacrificing yourself, Naruto. I don't like it.

“How could you say that?” Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s wrists, glaring at him. “Even after everything you said about how you can’t be without me, how you’d never choose anything over me, and you still think I would leave you? Even when you can feel my heart, you think I won’t choose you no matter what?”

Sasuke calling him out, as he should.

He knocked their foreheads together, tightening his grip.

“You think I’d choose happiness over you?”

How could he be happy, if Naruto wasn’t there with him? It wasn’t even an option. He cared about Charasuke, that was true. And the other version of Itachi, of Shisui, his family… Even the Sakura of that world. But how could they compare? Losing Charasuke would hurt, but it wouldn’t rip his soul apart. Staying with them would be a life, but it wouldn’t be living. How could Naruto think of himself as selfish, and still be so incredibly selfless when it came to Sasuke? What was he supposed to do, to make Naruto trust him once and for all?

“If I deserve you, why wouldn’t you deserve me in turn?”

Naruto didn’t have an answer to that. Sasuke hadn’t expected him to, and he felt him struggle with the concept. Naruto’s hero complex wasn’t doing either of them any good.

Like, I personally don't like the concept of anyone deserving love or not deserving it. Love is something you give, freely, regardless of how society values the other person. The love you give isn't less worth depending on the person receiving it. But I think the both of them are so traumatized that they need to make peace with this concept. They kind of need to be told - yes, you do deserve love, and I will give it to you. Naruto's hero complex is like... we don't have time to unpack all of that.

“You want to do this the hard way?” Sasuke continued, tone sharp. “I’ll do it with you. I don’t think you’ll succeed but I’ll do it.”

He gathered up all his resolve, all his conviction, pushed aside his own reservations.

“Saying you’ll forgive me… that’s a lie. You wouldn’t. You never would. And I wouldn’t want you to, anyway. If you wanted me by your side and I couldn’t do it, you’d be right to hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“Then I’d hate myself.”

Bearing each other's burdens and all that...

Naruto made a face, as if to disagree, but Sasuke felt him smile despite the topic of their conversation.

“What kind of role reversal is this,” he muttered, pressing his thumbs into Sasuke’s cheeks childishly. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing about it.”

“Because you love me.”

They stared at each other. Naruto’s eyes widened in shock, but Sasuke held his ground. What was the point in pretending anything else? It all made sense like this, and perhaps deep down Sasuke had always suspected it, even before he returned to Konoha.

“Y-you can’t just say it out loud!” Naruto spluttered, slapping his hands onto his own face instead, hiding behind them with a groan. “Stop being so smug about it!”

Me, while I wrote this: Yeah, you can't just say that out loud! The pain of being perceived. I am suffering with Naruto.

“I won the argument, didn’t I?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

Feeling lighter, Sasuke wrapped his arms around Naruto, leaning his cheek against the top of his head, Naruto burying his nose in his neck. He’d deny it when they were back in reality, but he could feel that Naruto wanted the body contact, and he was unable to resist it. It didn’t take long for Naruto to calm down, releasing a huff into Sasuke’s neck.

“Maybe we can just stay in this place forever,” he said, sneaking his arms around Sasuke’s back.

“You’d miss ramen too much.”

If an emotional scene doesn't end with a joke, what are you even doing with your life. But writing them hug was like, releasing so many endorphins. I'm weak to it.

It was strange, to talk and immediately feel every thought behind the words, every emotion on full display. Naruto’s amusement radiated off him, and it was his turn to feel a little smug as he concentrated on everything that Sasuke felt for him.

When Naruto started imagining long days spent in bed, Sasuke rolled his eyes and decided they’d been emotional enough for the time being.

Sasuke like, I can accept the lovey-dovey stuff, but I draw a thick line in front of the bedroom door. He's got some work left to do lol.

Idk if any of this made any sense but... there you have it!

[putas-in-suffering]

Quarantine Day 1:

A little treat for you babies. This was an idea that was already developed in our hive mind and just wouldn’t leave bc quarantining with Miguel is a whole ass vibe. So allows us to introduce part of Miguel’s Most Expensivest: Quarantine Edition. 

Miguel had promised you a relaxing day at home. He swore he’d get his work done as early as possible to free up the rest of his time for you. And despite the current state of the world, you were excited. 

It was just like Miguel to wait for a global pandemic to spend some much needed time with his lover.

You secure the tie on your swimsuit, scrutinizing your reflection. You smile at what you see, pleased with the product of your efforts. You dab some perfume onto your neck and wrists, feeling the butterflies beginning to set into your stomach. Miguel had texted you thirty minutes ago from his office downstairs, requesting you meet him by the pool in a half hour. You’d been tidying up the bedroom, organizing your closet when you saw the message, a smile instantly adorning your face at the prospect of spending time with your elusive partner.

You make your way down the stairs, bare feet making your movements muted against the marble floors. The house is quiet, the hustle and bustle of running a cartel shut down for the time being. You can feel the breeze through the open ceiling to floor glass doors that line the back patio, the air feeling divine on your bare flesh. 

You see a glass of champagne sitting idly on the dining table, waiting for you. You laugh at the gesture, your heart beating in anticipation. Miguel was always a little over the top. The clear waves of the pool call to you as you make your way outside, the low hum of music echoing through the outdoor speakers. The view is one of the main reasons you bought this house, the California hills and mountains shielding you from view from the rest of the world. In times like these it was easy to imagine you were the only two people that existed. 

A movement from your peripheral pulls your attention to your right and the lounge chairs that sit near the pool’s edge. The man who owns your heart is lounging in the warm rays of the sun, a glass flute of champagne gripped in his hand. 

And he’s naked. 

He’s as naked as the day he was born, brown skin on full display. Your eyes struggle to take all of him in at once. The smattering of hair across his legs, the firm muscles of his thighs, the ridges of his abdomen. You envision running your nails down the planes of his chest, knowing the hiss he would release in response. The strong chords of his neck call to you, begging to be marked with your mouth. His facial hair is trimmed neatly along his chiseled jaw, the mixture of black and grey making your thighs clench. Your eyes linger on the thick muscle resting between his thighs. You’ve had the pleasure of experiencing it first hand, but that doesn’t stop you from licking your lips at the sight of him. A pair of sunglasses are shielding his eyes. It's those sunglasses. The pair that have the power to make your panties flood. 

He looks every bit as luxurious as his bank account says he is. 

He’s aware of your reaction to him and he’s obviously pleased, a devilish smirk planted firmly on his bearded lips as he calls to you.

“Mi amor...” He beckons you with an outstretched hand. 

You go to his side, his free hand smoothing up your thigh and around to your ass as he plays with the string of your swimsuit.

“What’s this?” He asks, finger edging past the fabric and across your pubic bone. You shiver at the touch. 

“You said to meet you by the pool.” You reply, catching the smirk he wore at your slip of attitude. 

“No clothes while quarantining, baby...” He subtly demands, fingers now untying the knots. 

You hesitate for a moment at the feel of him pulling the material away, forgetting how isolated you now were in your own home. 

“No te preocupes.” He soothes and you nod, allowing him to expose you to the warmth of the day. 

He sets aside your champagne glasses and reaches his hand out to you, signaling what he wants. You move instinctively, straddling his lap. You hum at the pleasant feeling of his bare flesh against yours. His skin is hot from the sun and it heats yours instantly, cocooning you in a blanket of warmth. He immediately unties the strings of your top, ridding you of the garment. Your naked chest presses against his, his hands caressing your back in a gentle pattern. 

“Feel good?” He asks, his chest rumbling beneath you. 

You moan in response, burrowing further into his neck as his hands explore every inch of your body. The sun and breeze work together to lull you, your soft curves rubbing lazily against his hard lines. He sits you up, his fingertips tracing along your face and neck, his eyes still hidden by tinted lenses. You can see the mischief in them still. And the thought sends a jolt straight to your pussy.

“Hermosa...” He whispers against your lips, a firm hand now gripping the flesh of your ass. He captures your mouth with his, your tongues tangled in passion. You get lost in each other, your bodies writhing in search of friction. 

His lips move to your breasts, tasting you flesh. Your fingers thread into his hair, anchoring him to the nipple he’s attached himself to. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back as you grind into his lap.

“Miguel...” You breathe out, feeling him hard and wanting beneath you. Your thighs widen as you twirl your hips against him, ensuring he’s soaked and primed for your body. 

“What is it?” He asks, hearing the change in your breathing. You dig your nails into his chest and are instantly rewarded by the hiss that escapes him. 

“I need you.” You plead, curling around him as he sucks almost violently at your neck. 

“Put me in.” He softly demands, his voice the perfect elixir of smooth and rough. You whimper and raise onto your knees, feeling him try to align himself with your opening. 

Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate to have him embedded deep into your womb. You grip him in your hand, your walls taking him in slowly. You take inch by glorious inch, letting the familiar burn wash over you as he stretches your walls. You moan lowly when he’s reached your barrier, your body now pressed firmly against his. 

“Fuck, baby...” He curses, forehead buried in the crook of your neck.

Neither one of you move at first. You savor the feeling of fullness, feeling the throbbing of his cock against your walls. You squeeze him within you and he nips at your neck in retaliation, a low growl falling from his lips.

You both take your time, moving in an unhurried rhythm as you just feel the other. He lets you take control as your hips rotate above him, never letting him leave the confines of your body. His hands rest on your ass, gently guiding you. His sinful mouth devours your breasts, pulling a moan from your throat. It's perfect, the kind of coupling that almost makes you feel intoxicated. 

Miguel bends his knees, his feet firmly planted on the chair beneath you. You feel the thinly veiled control start to unravel as he bounces you in his lap, meeting your thrusts. You lock your arms securely around his shoulders, maintaining balance. A thick finger begins to assault your clit as he moves your hips, forcing you to take him in repeatedly. 

“Oh, god...” You cry as the crescendo builds, readying for your climax. Pleasure leads you as you move with him, lights beginning to dance behind your eyes. Your limbs tense and your spine twists as wave after wave of ecstasy pulls you under. Your walls quiver and ricochet off his cock, your hips no longer moving in tandem with his. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He confesses between gritted teeth. 

His jaw is clenched, his arms straining with tension as he continues to pound up into you. The sound is obscene, but it only adds to the moment as he finally releases inside of you. His hips stutter as his body spasms, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. You moan at the feeling, basking in the guilty pleasure of having him fill you. 

Satiation hits immediately. Miguel pulls you to him as he reclines against the propped up back of the chair. Your ear settles over his chest, listening to his heartbeat attempting to slow down after his high. His hands run up and down your back, his softening cock still locked in your depths. You can feel his cum threatening to escape from between you as you adjust your position. Your eyes already feel heavy, the combined stickiness of sweat and fluids securing you to him for the time being.

“Jesus...” You say with a tired laugh, trying to catch your breath.

You crane your neck up to look at him, those ridiculously attractive sunglasses still perched on his nose. Beads of perspiration decorate his forehead, but there's an ease to him that wasn't there before. 

“Its Miguel.” He quips, smiling at his own joke. His arms encircle you while your fingers dance delicately over his chest. 

“That was quite a surprise.” You tease, pressing a kiss to the flesh beneath you.

“I’m taking full advantage of this quarantine, my love.” He showcases his white teeth in a grin, and even though his eyes are hidden, you know he’s winked at you. His statement is further punctuated by the light slap on your ass, his fingers in no hurry to stray from where the two of you are still joined. 

You only smile, letting the breeze, the sun, the music, the champagne, and Miguel’s touch take you away. Spending the quarantine with the cartel may not be so bad after all. 

[skeletonwoman]

5. Waiting, Waiting

i. am. so. late!! ahhhh sorry! not that anyone probs noticed cause i did not advertise this at all but ANYWAY. HERE IS MALIAAAA

You twirl, shaking your butt and scooting about the room. From the volume alone, you soon expected not to hear some cops knocking on the door about a noise complaint. The saving grace? You’re blasting Christmas music instead of some new fangled Disco Panic or Argumentative and Unsteady On Their Feet Boys.

“I’ll give it to someone special!” You cried along with Andrew Ridgely and George Michael, the paired voices of Wham!. Your voice drops to a rough coo as you add the second and extremely important repetition, “Special.”

Giggling helplessly, you examine your entirely un-Christmassy living room with satisfaction. While the holidays are cheerful (and the weather outside’s frightful, but the fire so delightful) and the music makes your heart pitter patter endlessly, the decorating is a pain in the ass that you’re not interested in.

You don’t even have a Christmas tree this year.

Dull vibrations in the floor alert you to her presence before the music cuts out and you turn to see the grumpy but beautiful face of Malia.

She’s your best friend.

“You’re a dick,” she snaps before stalking off to her room- as usual.

Maybe not your best friend but you one hundred percent love her, no doubt. She’s always good for a pickle- she’ll pick you up, drop you off, drive you home, make you lunch if you whine long enough, look after you when you’re sick, do your homework when you’re sick. If there’s a pickle and she can help, all you need to do is ask.

“Rude! Wham is a blessing!”

She slams her door, hard, in response.

“You weren’t acting like that when I played Careless Whisper while-”

“Shut up!” She shouts, head sticking out the door and you pout. “I’m busy.”

Your mouth gapes and you feel your cheeks get very pink. “Oh. I- Uh…”

Unsure, you scamper for your room in shame. You didn’t even hear him, some probably sexy stranger, come in. When had he gotten here- what if he’d been in her room all night! He should have at least surfaced by the time you were blasting Last Christmas though.

Feeling incredibly out of sorts, the way it is every time Malia brings home some… guy, you pace about your room. You’re an idiot to feel this way but this stranger is just invading your home, your place, where you live. He didn’t even introduce himself, you’re half of the occupants here. He just throws himself into her room and onto her bed then? Just like that?

Throwing yourself onto your bed (just like that) you curl up and stare at the wall.

You’re unsure how much time passes until a soft knock breaks your reverie.

“What.”

Malia quietly enters and crawls onto the bed beside you smelling of soap and warmth.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, pressing herself close to your side like a lonely puppy. “I was mean.”

“Yes,” you say softly and she watches you. She’s quiet and pathetic enough that you sigh and wriggle closer to her. It’s all the acceptance she needs to wrap you up in her arms and haul you against her chest until there’s not a breath of air between the two of you.

“Thank you,” she whispers to your hair and you grumble softly. Or you grumble until she presses a kiss to your forehead and you melt.

“What’re you doing here tonight!” You gasp, delighted at the sight of her anyway. It’s nine at night on a Friday, later than she’s ever stayed at the house on a Friday and you’re positively giddy.

“We haven’t hung out recently and-”

You gurgle delightedly, and she beams at you.

“You want a drink? I’ll make you a fancy cocktail, we can pop some popcorn and watch a movie.” Her words are casual but you can practically smell her want. So you nod happily and place your order- then hop to the tv to set up a movie.

You can’t pick a cause for the sudden turn but you have a feeling that it could be to do with the holiday season and the way people barter their genuine affection like gold coins or livestock. Romancing strange men then kicking them out of the apartment is all well and good until Malia gets lonely and they won’t stay can cuddle- even if she says she hates to cuddle and that they should leave.

Trotting back to your side, she hands you a pale green drink and you smell it and shiver. It’s ice cold with mint and you’re intoxicated already.

“I know it’s cold out and you’re not really-”

“This is so good!” The words are a joyous cry and Malia falls silent with satisfaction. “You have to make these again some time, oh god.”

“Put this on,” she says abruptly and you take the proffered Santa hat merrily. You’d never be adverse to a hat. For a moment she stares at you before she pulls out her phone. “Smile.”

Taking another delicious sip, you beam at the phone camera before turning your beaming gaze onto Malia.

“Was I cute?”

“Absolutely,” she says absently, tapping away at the screen and you wonder if you want to spy. Taking another hearty sip, you tug a blanket over both your legs and pull the popcorn bowl on top of that. Ignoring your currently technologically inclined friend, you set to watching the Nightmare Before Christmas.

“You’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen,” Malia says, just as abruptly as before and you hum indecisively. “No, I mean it.”

“You’re so kind,” you murmur and snuggle a touch closer but focus on the movie.

“Y/N!”

“Shhh… Jack.” The comment makes her growl and you wonder if she’s going to attack the imagine of the spindly mayor of Halloweentown. “Talk in an hour or so.”

“Y/N,” she whines, and you shush her again, gentle, and lay your head on her shoulder just to keep her quiet.

Surprisingly, it works.

“This…”

“Season? Holiday? Day? Month, year, week, hour?” You can’t stop yourself from filling in the blanks and she levels you with a dark glare.

“This past few months have been kind of low.” She paces, back and forth from one end of the sitting area to the other while you watch and wait. You hadn’t noticed noticed anything obviously different about her but you had felt a subtle change. “I have been trying to fill a… An expectation I’d set for myself, one I’d set using others opinions but my own expectation all the same.”

“What expectation?” You ask rather than apologise, she’d hate the pity even though you feel it. She’s just foolish.

“To fall in love with a man.” She inhales a long breath and you watch her curiously. This isn’t going where you think it’s going- right? “I loved Stiles, but even then I was bereft.”

She pauses her pacing at a turn and you can see the confusion and pain in her expressioj before she;s steely faced and pacing once more.

“So I met a woman, trying to see if she was the missing thing, if all along I’d been chasing the wrong gender.” She sighs, her gaze faraway and lusty. “I was missing out on so much I never knew, but it wasn’t about just gender. It was a person.”

You press your lips together hard and wait for her to continue. This is too good to be true.

“Y/N, I… Stiles-”

Dammit. Damn. Forcing a polite smile onto your face, you can’t help tuning out. Damn.

She stares at you expectantly and you flush. “I- I’m sorry, can you… I didn’t…”

She grumbles in frustration before plonking down beside you on the couch.

“Can I kiss you?” The words are said through gritted teeth and you beam at her.

“Thank you for asking, yes-” Your words end in a squeak as her palms capture your jaw and her lips descend with an almost bruising force, until they slow. And you melt. And she sighs against your lips. Your brain- at this point do you even have one? Kissing her back, you moan as her tongue invades your mouth.

“You- I was waiting for you,” she says the words, her lips brushing yours as she speaks and you blink your eyes open, whimpering at the light in her eyes.

BOOM the most base christmasseyness bc i am v bad at this this yhear woops

thanks