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usernamesuggestionsarefunny · 6 months

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My avatar tla hot take ACTUALLY UNPOPULAR and not just minority opinion is that Azula is a terrible addition to the series. On her own? Oh, her character was great, complex, etc. She is a queen, a great diva, wonderful villain, interesting, deserved a great redemption too (She is 14! A baby!) etc. She just would have suited a magic girl show, a horror movie (in the typical scary, powerful little girl fashion), or a darker, more mature show with more characters like her, meaning child prodigies, better.

Combined with the rest of the atlab story? Kinda makes me laugh. She is such a ridiculous addition that makes it obvious this is a kids’ show. When I first watched the show, Zuko's father and the fact he had branded him was such a serious “oh shit” moment. Like, that is a father whose expectations are truly ridiculously high. It was scary. I mean who could meet them?

Zuko, whether a villain or an anti-hero, was a special, unique character the first few episodes because he was intimately acquainted with the scary main villain in a way no one was.

Then comes Azula. Come at me to debunk me (I may not even try to argue because this is such a weird opinion in the fandom, for real I haven't heard it) but she feels like a writer self-insert. Not a little kid’s writer self-insert, mind you, she feels like a well-written, dark, and complex self-insert or oc written by a talented fic writer in her 30s with years of experience that may become an original writer someday, but an oc nonetheless.

Azula feels like “oh, Zuko could never live up to his evil father’s ideals? Oh here comes my oc Azula, despite being 2 years younger she is soo much better at firebending and does everything better, even being evil, she is the main villain’s golden child and sidekick! And the sister of the main antagonist who interacts with him constantly!” (oh isn't that so cool?) “oh shit wait she needs flaws otherwise she is a villain Sue, let's see.… perfectionism! Perfect flaw! and at the very end after needing a 2 against 1 setting to be defeated she has a mental breakdown, perfect!”

“But gifted children and prodigies exist!!” you may say. Yesss I knowww. She is both too dark of a concept and too corny for atla. I see the flaws and contradictions in the ~vibes~ Azula gives me, thank you anyway. But regardless of rationally being aware of this, the reveal that this powerful character that comes to replace Zuko in causing the gaang trouble (Because let's face it, the beginning of Zuko's redemption arc and needing an even bigger bad to replace him and shock the viewers by how much more dangerous/powerful they are is the whole reason for Azula’s existence) is his 14-year-old LITTLE sister is so… dorky and laughable for me personally. And not only because of her gender in case you come to attack me from that angle. Zuko's prodigy little brother would perhaps have been an even worse and more ridiculous big bad replacement (Girls being shorter is understandable, but with a little brother we would visually see how much Zuko would be able to beat him if this weren't a kids’ show with magic, it would be even harder to suspend my disbelief to). Like, I am sure the reasons I hate the concept are the very same reasons some others love it, but you are telling me that the one capable of fulfilling the evil child burner father's expectations is… simply some rando younger child? It is not that Ozai was a freak who wanted the impossible, it is just that Zuko wasn't it. It is corny, it is dumb. It is so obviously meant for kids. Thanks, I hate it.

Azula also combines in a very weird and bizarre way with Zuko's tragic origin story (Also it is just another source of angst that is completely unnecessary, that distracts from what his father did to him and never living up to his expectations or being too compassionate for his own good, now there is a little sibling in the way being better than him at everything). Call me crazy, but Zuko as an only child, or at least a child without crazy op YOUNGER siblings would have had a MUCH more interesting relationship with his father. Perhaps an even ANGSTIER and more complex relationship where his approval is just within reach but also not quite there. Where it seems conceivable and yet out of reach. Where Ozai is the type of abuser who gives him praise when he does something right just to tear him down mercilessly when he doesn't.

What Zuko has in canon with Ozai and Azula is also interesting, painful, and angsty, but it is “never be able to be this other random younger child who happens to be a prodigy so what is even the point of trying when dad always reminds me of how meh I am compared to her” instead of “never be able to be like my father who is putting all his hopes and that of his empire on me, who at times seems to care so much”. That last one is much more compelling for me personally for a character that ends up being the opposite of his father and learns being like him is not a good thing, it also gives Zuko a good, believable reason to keep trying to please his father: there is actually a chance, there is no one there who has already won the race. Oh my, his search for the Avatar would have made so much more sense without Azula why does Azuka exist in this universe whyy 😭

Don't get me wrong, the sibling rivalry and abusers putting children against each other, having a golden child and a scapegoat, is realistic in many families, but from a storytelling perspective I find it VERY whatever, MEH. Like, the moment Ozai burns Zuko would have been a much greater instance of utter betrayal and shock if Ozai actually acted at times like he had some hope in his son instead of being constantly comparing him to his sister. Now everytime I am made aware of what Ozai did to Zuko I am like “duh” what were you expecting, Zuko, baby? It is still evil as fuck, but no longer shocking or a wtf moment, it is just the boring, edgy and predictable culmination of Ozai already having a “better” child he prefers to succeed him, a total overkill, and in fact, knowing Ozai, he should have done so earlier or straight up had Zuko killed, it makes no sense he is still alive when Azula is a much better successor from his perspective. It means nothing and Zuko should of fing course be traumatized and emotionally and physically distraught by the damage done to him by his own father, but he should not longer logically be that shocked or struck dumb. From a fictional, storytelling perspective, for me personally, the moment loses a tiny bit of its power, at least from the betrayal-someone-who-should-care-for-you—hurting-you—instead aspect.

If I had been there to write the ~big worse bad before Ozai~ meant to replace Zuko as he begins his journey of redemption, I would have chosen something much more serious (I get “abused child soldier” is serious, duh, I just mean serious in a way that makes me fear for the gaang being faced not with a peer but with someone bigger and much more experienced, and not just distract myself with how horrible it is that a “father” makes a 14-year-old girl into a soldier for an invading army). I would have chosen an equally or even more powerful, ADULT, right-hand man (or woman) of Ozai. If it really had to be a sibling of Zuko, it would have been a brother or sister 5 years OLDER, and that is AT THE VERY LEAST, perhaps the son or daughter of a minor wife or concubine (To fix the issue of why they are not the heir and why Zuko could be jealous of their much better skills while at the same time still having a good reason to keep trying to earn their father's approval, which is that there is still time to learn and improve as the younger party, this could have also made Ursa more sympathetic since the “evil” sibling is no longer a child of hers that she emotionally neglected). This could also give the character depth in the sense that they hate the fact they have no claim to the throne despite being older and “better”. They could still care for Zuko while having a love hate relationship with them, a sibling rivalry, Ozai turning them against each other, same as Azula, without taking away from Zuko's interesting relationship with Ozai (I just want his urge to overpower his better sibling to come from a place of his father actually expecting him to do it and be mad he doesn't instead of just Ozai putting all his hopes on the other sibling and Zuko for some plot related reasons still wanting his father's impossible approval despite never being able to earn it because Azula is there, better at a younger age, is that too much to ask? Like at this point Zuko should be smart enough to see that firebending skills are inborn and related to ~fantasy-version-of-genetics~, he should logically have seen it is not his fault and stopped trying to be Ozai or Azula MUCH earlier).

So in summary, believe it or not, I like Azula. I like the whole child prodigy golden child psychologically groomed and abused by evil father angle and I would love a redemption arc for her. I just don't like her AS an atla character. I feel like she does a disservice to Zuko by even existing due to how complex and interesting yet overpowered she is, actually. She ruins his motivations imo. Ironically enough, Zuko does not do a disservice to her, he makes her more interesting because he is a warning of what could happen to her if she is not perfect, he makes her vulnerable. But here is the deal, this would work better if she was the protagonist.

Edit: I just realized it is not just Azula who does a disservice to Zuko's story, it is the whole “Ozai straight up hated the little fucker since birth and tried to kill him before as a child therefore what he did to him was not a consequence of Zuko being compassionate as fuck, Ozai might as well have been looking for an excuse”. It just cheapens it immensely.

Zuko caring for those soldiers still counts just as much (of fucking course), but it would have been more poignant story-wise for his suffering to have also be a direct consequence of his first signs of goodness + his father being an abuser pshyco and not just the latter + Ozai always hated him because Zuko is the good guy and his father’s empire is evil so we need a way to make the children see Zuko is good and not like the rest from the beginning in a painfully simple way by making Ozai inherently hate him or smt because abusers “loving” their children in fucked up ways is too complicated

#atla #atlab #anti azula #not really #this is not about what she does in world or her character but her character combined with that of others #also I had a hard time explaining my issues with her in the overall narrative #avatar the last airbender #this probably sounds written by pre banishment zuko lmao #but I stand by it #the gaang #this is more anti zuko than anything #like baby boy after that burn that should have been the end of his arc #there is no longer a compelling reason for him to keep trying #he just comes across as dumb #azula literally takes away his reason for trying to please his father #I hate the fact she was written in this show #she should have been in another story 😭#also I know Zuko's actions come from a place of trauma but bitch I am no psychiatrist #I want him to make sense too #atla critical #azula negative #azula critical #but aang is 12 and more powerful than everyone!!#shh he is the avatar #he gets a pass

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wishmemel · 1 year

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don't want no other shade of blue but you, ft. gojo satoru

cw: small jjk manga spoilers, gojo calls reader "princess" synopsis: literally nothing i like writing random scenes which you'll only understand if you can read my mind technically this is reader and toru crying over megumi and i turned it into a small drabble about something idk. tags: gojo x reader, gojo calling reader "princess", little bit of angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort wc. 0.76k published: 18/02/23

He wipes at your tears—tears that look like pristine droplets of glass rolling down your cheeks in an almost robotic fashion.

You see it then in his gentle movements, in the devastated look in his eyes, in his actions that are too slow, almost as if he himself is lagging. You’re both tuned into each other’s emotions—each other’s actions—so much that you know what he’s thinking before he even thinks of speaking it aloud.

(But he is not the type to do so. Satoru would stay silent and suffer from his own thoughts before sharing them with you.)

“Don’t you dare,” you warn, reaching up to grip the wrist he has positioned at your face. Terror grips your heart like a vice. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” he asks, all too softly.

He’s clear cut, like a diamond, all sharp angles and perfection, and you want to be angry he’s playing dumb. You want to scream and rage and ruin his pristine image. You want him to be crying on the couch with you? You want him at his worst beside you.

He should be the one crying. Not you.

It isn’t fair that you’re wrecked and ruined and begging him not to go and he’s sitting there like a porcelain doll, poised and perfect like everyone’s always expected of him. But you—you had never asked that Satoru be perfect.

“Leaving,” you force out. “If you try to leave, god so help me, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he prods, and if it weren’t for the melancholic look in his eyes, you’d think he was taunting you for his own amusement.

“I’ll break your legs,” you snap, at your wits’ end. You lower his wrist into your lap, rage burning behind your eyes. The sight of it makes his lips quirk in amusement.

You’ve always been on the fire to his ice. The warmth to his icy demeanor. He’s always had you.

(But, sometimes, you wonder if he’s doing more to push you away than keep you two together.

Which part of Satoru is real and which is pretend? It’s frustrating that you don’t know.

Is he most himself when he’s with you, loud laughter and quick smirks and falling in love like little kids? Or is he most himself when he’s in battle, losing his friends, his hopes, and a part of himself with each fight?)

You can see the quick calculations running behind his mind. You know he’s only trying to do what’s best for you, and as much as you love that about him, you also despise it.

You wish for once that Satoru wouldn’t be the type to do what he thinks is best without consulting you. You wish for once that he would communicate with you, rather than trying to play fate at its own game. He should know he’ll never win.

You know he wants to argue with you—argue that it isn’t that simple. That he can’t stay, not like this. But he also knows that your threat is empty. If he genuinely tried to walk away, you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Everyone he’s ever had, everyone he’s ever grown close to, has left him. Whether they had a choice in the matter or not, they left regardless.

Suguru. Megumi.

Now he has you, but you wonder if he's afraid.

Does he think he’ll hurt you if he stays? Does he realize how ridiculous that thought is?

You trust him. You trust him with everything, no matter what. You know that he'll always protect you, and vice versa. So why does it feel now as if he's pushing you away?

But you tighten your grip on his slender wrist and keep it pressed against your thigh, pleading with firm eyes, hoping he can see past your angry facade.

“I will break your legs,” you repeat as a threat, voice breaking on the hollow words.

He chokes on a laugh, head falling forward. You take the opportunity to mess up his meticulous hair and when he peeks up at you through long snowy lashes, you see the unshed tears glimmering in those blue eyes.

(No, it’s unfair to call Satoru’s eyes blue. His eyes are ice and snow and winter at its very coldest, where forgiveness would be a most impossible request. His eyes are the ocean, whirlpool against raging whirlpool of vivid blue you could drown in.)

“Princess, break them,” he caves, laughing even as bitter tears spill down his cheeks. “Break them if it means I get to stay.”

A/N: um hi it's my first time posting my writing on the internet soo i'm a little nervous but enjoy !! (also the dialogue may be a little cringy/stilted but writing dialogue is one of my weaker points and i'm working on it!)

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen satoru #꒰ i forgot that you existed. ꒱

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pyrrhiccomedy · 2 years

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I watched Alexander two nights ago but like, Oliver Stone’s third (??) director’s cut of it, the one he did in 2014, and I’d never seen any version of Alexander before, because I’d always heard it was bad, obviously, and ridiculous, and Colin Farrell wears that indescribable Princess Diana wig

and I’ve been thinking about it ever since

like don’t. don’t get me wrong it’s still. it’s a bad movie. and you probably couldn’t find a single person on earth who wouldn’t be offended by some part of it, like whether it’s the “he’s gay because his mom is horny and domineering” part, or the weird, unnecessary almost-rape scene between him and Roxanne, or the “I’m taking my Asians and I’m LEAVING,” or the whole thing where Alexander the Great, a man who famously put all of the men from entire cities to the sword and sold all of the women and children into slavery, was just a sensitive boy who wanted to ~explore the world~

and yet

there’s something compelling about it, Oliver Stone’s frustrated third attempt to wring what surely must be a good movie out of this mess of footage. because there is a good movie in here, somewhere.

I watched this as part of a double feature with Troy (2004), a movie long-time readers of my blog know that I’m obsessed with for its absolute anodyne wrongheadedness in almost every aspect of its creation. No part of Troy seems to understand why any particular decision was made, from casting to camera angles to set design to script.

Alexander is a baffling, confusing, horny compilation of scenes that run one into another without regard for logic, or pacing, or indeed that pedestrian demon “chronology,” but it understands why it was made. It has the feeling of a child’s idea for a story they had before they fell asleep last night, and that child is now excitedly telling you every detail they can remember, out of order, unconcerned with how you, the listener, will receive their vision, because they feel that something very important is being said. Some parts are too long, and don’t make sense. Characters you have never met before are killed onscreen in dramatic confrontations, and then the movie impatiently doubles back to eight years ago to tell you who that was and why you should care. They just, like, skip the entire conquest of Egypt. Like literally in one scene Alexander has been sent into exile by his father the king, and in the very next scene, Alexander is king of Macedonia and has already conquered Egypt and is now about to finish his conquest of Persia. Why. Why. Anthony Hopkins sometimes steps in to explain events that you would much rather have watched unfold on screen. Colin Farrell still never kisses Jared Leto. Maybe it was a contract thing. That doesn’t seem likely. Both of those dudes seem like they would have been down for an on-screen kiss in 2004. I don’t know.

So it’s not a good movie. But it’s a movie genuinely fascinated by its central figure. I may not understand what’s happening from scene to scene, but I understand what’s happening to these people. I understand why all of these characters are screaming and howling and beating their breasts. I understand why I, too, should be fascinated by Alexander’s Alexander.

I wish there were more movies like it. It’s weird, and bad, and everyone’s putting their whole cunts into it. It gets into weird arthouse territory a few times, it trips over its own feet and blunders into a kind of surreal brilliance. It’s like having a kind of racist dream about the medieval romance of Alexander, where you wake up compelled by the core, vivid images, while simultaneously asking yourself, “Orientals? Did I really call people ‘orientals’ in that dream? What the fuck?”

I might sit down and watch the second director’s cut, the one that’s three and a half goddamn hours long, because I get it, Oliver Stone, I think I understand, there is a movie worth watching in this mess. I kind of want to find it, too.

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justsoohi · 1 year

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Black Carol/Episode 1

Tomoya: ·········· (He's frozen in place by the neck)

Rinne: Oioi. No matter what, You shouldn't run away the moment you see my face?

Tomoya: (Why, why, why!? This is absolutely ridiculous. No matter how I think about it, I’m so out of place?! this has to be another of anzu-san's mistakes, right? someone tell me I’m right!!)

(Anzu-san, could it be that you made a mistake this time too? I mean, isn't it so? Please tell me that's so~!?)

Yuzuru: Ah yes, Mashiro-sama. Aside from the others, you and I had a lunch box duel together, didn't we

Ibara: Ahaha. He probably sensed the shitty malignancy that lurks beneath your smiling mask, Yuzuru

Yuzuru: Rather, if anything its because you always show that smile while hiding your knife. No matter how much you tries to blend in with the world, you can't hide the stench of something fishy from me. So Mashiro-sama must be frightened that you keep coming at me

Rinne: anyhow, Isn't it because of both of you? If the seniors are so tense, he must be frightened. Right?

Tomoya: EEK?!

Rinne: Why?! I'm not doing anything to you!?

Yuzuru: You can't grab someone by the neck and tell them you did nothing. I think it's normal for him to be frightened

Subaru: Excuse me☆ Yahoo yahoo. Nice to meet you today~

—hm? What are you all doing?

Tomoya: Ah. Akehoshi-senpai! Heaven's help~!

Subaru: Eh? What? What's going on? Why did you hid behind my back?

Subaru: Ah~. Now then, everyone was bullying Tomoya-kun, right? Don't bully our cute kohai, he doesn’t deserve to be bullied~okay?

Rinne: I didn't do anything like that! I mean, why is he so scared of me when I didn't do anything

Tomoya: Ah. I'm s-sorry. I was under a lot of pressure, and it was a conditioned reflex...

No. I came here thinking it's a petting zoo with cute fluffy animals, But I didn't expect to find myself in a cage with wild animals?

Ibara: What's with the rude analogy....

Tomoya: Ehehe. I just exceeded my brain's capacity. I'm fine now. I'm starting to understand what's going on.

Let's see. I guess this means that everyone here is a member of "Shuffle Unit", right?

Yuzuru: It appears so.

Well, I can understand Mashiro-sama's confusion. It is true that I am not sure why this group was chosen... It is doubtful whether synergies can be obtained

Subaru: Eh, really? On the contrary, Isn't it more interesting not to know what kind of chemical reactions will occur?

Rinne: You never know, there might be an overreaction and a huge explosion.

Subaru: In that case, I want to make a big and beautiful explosion like fireworks~☆

Rinne: What a big shot you are. Well, I don't mind that kind of thing

Ibara: Hm? Let's ask Anzu-san to explain the rest. It looks like she've arrived

Subaru: Ah, Anzu! Yahoo yahoo☆ Yes. It's okay. We were just chatting.

Ibara: So, could you please begin by giving us a brief overview of the project Producer-dono?

Rinne: What the hell is this...?

Tomoya: ? Excuse me. No matter what angle you look at it, it looks like the only thing written on the whiteboard is "we're going to do something amazing!"

Is it some kind of trick I'm not seeing through? Is it just me who dont get it? Is this a code?

Rinne: Don't worry. It looks the same to me.

Yuzuru: Is that something that can be reassured about... I can only sense a big trouble coming...

Ibara: ....This is giving me a headache. Anyway, Anzu-san. Can you tell us more about it?

Yuzuru: Let's see..... So you are saying that one of the "producers" of the "P Agency" had evaporated, and he was in charge of this "shuffle project"?

Rinne: so? There was no one to take over the job because they were too short-staffed. Anzu-chan came to explain the situation, but she said she couldn't afford to take care of us.

Subaru: Hm~. That's why Anzu wants us idols to lead this "shuffle project."

Tomoya: Led by idols... But this project is a big one, isn't it? Even with the backing of ES, how can we do such a thing on our own?

Ah, right! Saegusa-senpai is also a producer for CosPro, right? Then Saegusa-senpai you must have a good idea...

Ibara: If I can do it myself, I'd like to do it, but... it would be difficult if it was led by "P Agency"

Tomoya: Eh? Why is that?

Ibara: Since this project is a cross-office, in order to maintain fairness, a "producer" who belongs to another office can not get involved.

In ES, which has many offices, "P agency" also plays such a role.

Well. Although it is possible for me to evade their eyes and do my own production business in secret!

Yuzuru: Ibara. Anzu-san is troubled now

Ibara: yeah yeah, in other words, I need to devote myself to being an idol this time.

Subaru: Yes! And it would help Anzu too! You've been apologizing for a long time now. It's not like it Anzu's fault you know.

Anzu, rest assured we will all work together and do our best.

Yuzuru: Yes, if this is called a job, I'll just do my best.

Tomoya: (Eh!? Wait a minute...! Why is everyone so positive~!? It's impossible for us to proceed with the project alone!)

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solarsonicsoda · 4 months

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Rebbie Wrestling School - 1.1: Wrestling 101

Ok, you're here! I didn't expect that! You're very nice and I like you! Well then, I guess we best start from the start and ask the big question: Will you ma- wait no. That's wrong.

The big question: What is professional wresting?

Pro wrestling is a performance that combines athletic action, character presentation, interpersonal melodrama, and individual motivation. Before a crowd of fans, and sometimes broadcast to millions of homes, an eclectic cast of wrestlers will compete in the ring and act in segments, both furthering the storylines between each competitor and entertaining the fans. Each wrestler may have different motivations at different times, whether it be winning titles, revenge, or simply the love of the game, but typically, it all comes down to winning matches at the end of the day.

It’s from our characters and our focus on them where the frequent comparisons to soap opera comes: a large, generally rotating cast of characters enter the frame, showcase a very clear personality which can be ridiculously evil at times, interact and feud with others, wildly change those characters over time, and eventually leave.

There are admittedly less pubs in wrestling, and there’s yet to be any cars driven into any rivers or oceans as far as I’m aware, but similarly wrestling is a lot more colourful and knowingly over the top. However, Phil Mitchell has been both a hero and villain of Eastenders, and he’s been through storylines which see him as the most important man in the show, and others where he’s background entertainment. This is just like wrestling characters! Whether we're rooting for or vehemently against Phil, it's still him, just from a different angle. He'd probably always be playing a bit dirty either way...

The key difference (other than the diminished importance of who’s the landlord of The Rovers Return) is that where Corrie and Emmerdale are slice of life stories told in Northern England, wrestling takes the setting of competing sports stars fighting for glory. This brings us to our other big comparison, that being battle and action anime. It’s maybe easier to see the link between Goku battling in the World Martial Arts Tournament with Shawn Michaels trying to win the Royal Rumble than it was with soap opera. Both mediums tell stories through high levels of physical acting and staging as opposed to words, using exciting, dramatised combat to create stakes, show personal growth and motivation, and form a narrative thread throughout action. This action might be outlandish or cartoony in places, and brutal in others, but we understand the world the show happens in and so we accept and understand the weight of what we’re seeing regardless. The main difference here is that where Dragon Ball focuses on Goku and the people around him, wrestling has multiple of these narratives going on where we follow different combinations of heroes and villains and in-betweens.

Is wrestling just a live-action combo of soaps and anime though?

No, that’s stupid. You’re stupid.

There’s obviously a lot more nuance to it than that, but I just think those are two mediums you might be familiar with and help you understand the viewing experience. The most glaring extra factors are the crowd, and the physicality. A great description I’ve heard is calling wrestling “the last form of theatre in the round”. With a 360 audience, throw in a bit of panto or improv (just ramping the audience participation into near audience manipulation) and you get a better picture of the importance of the crowd. There’s also of course the athleticism needed to tell the story and perform the moves. No member of the Dingles has ever hit a hurricanrana, and Goku isn’t real (I think) so he doesn’t need to learn how to deal with being dropped on his back over and over.

There's also the connection between character and actor. I'll get much more into this much later, but the personal aspect of each wrestler's character and how they portray what is essentially their surrogate in this universe adds so much. To throw in another comparison, the closest thing I can think of that's similar is D&D? I thought it's worth mentioning now but as I say, I'll get back to this in a future lesson. You'll just have to check back in then to see just what I mean by that!!!

But I would say mix this all together, and you’re close to having a picture of what professional wrestling really is and why it works! But there’s also so so so much more to learn. I guess that's why this is only lesson 0! It’s actually a really in-depth and varied business, so if you’re curious to know more, stick around to hear it from Rebbie!!!

And before you go, what class would be complete without homework! I'm just kidding, think of this more as further reading, or like when you find a better way to learn than your useless teacher...

Anyway, I really recommend Super Eyepatch Wolf's series of videos on professional wrestling for both an analysis of how this all works in practice, as well as just a generally better explanation of some of this stuff. They're also super inspiring for both people looking to get into wrestling, and people looking to write about it! I'll link the first one here, but I love them all and will probably reference them further! They're all great videos!

Table of Contents

#wrestling #pro wrestling #rebbie wrestling school #wrestling 101

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly.

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow.

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way.

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted.

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever.

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.”

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.”

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?”

He can never know. “Obviously.”

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.”

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way?

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.”

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.”

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this.

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.”

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.”

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?”

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.”

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation.

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way.

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.”

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.”

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.”

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?”

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.”

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again.

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier.

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me.

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve.

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?”

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?”

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.”

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?”

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.”

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm.

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning.

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?”

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively.

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?”

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent.

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.”

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame.

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one.

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.”

Understanding? “What is there to understand?”

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable.

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea.

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.”

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected.

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.”

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.”

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?”

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?”

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words.

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure.

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?”

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly.

“What kind of punishment?”

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?”

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.”

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?”

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.”

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip.

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.”

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it.

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down.

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--”

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.”

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin.

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical.

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn.

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.”

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion.

“Kirigan.”

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his.

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity.

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off.

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am.

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.”

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.”

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines.

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips.

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?”

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want.

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential.

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.”

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly.

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat.

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more.

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible.

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.”

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.”

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it. My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out.

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.”

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking.

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.”

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together.

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs.

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?”

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back.

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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Dulcis Part 2

Here we are everyone - part 2 - please be warned that this doesn't have a happy ending (I don't think anyone expected there to be a happy ending for this story) and I understand that this is quite toxic. So no hard feelings if you're not into that - go ahead and scroll past it. I took some liberties with Carols job, I don't actually remember whether or not her career is mentioned in the movie so it is what it is.

To everyone who took a moment to comment / reblog / message me about this story - thanks so much and I hope you enjoy.

Thanks to my ladies for letting me send you paragraph upon paragraph of my Dave filth. @frannyzooey @foli-vora @mouthymandalorian

Dave (Murder Daddy) York x F!Reader

Pairing: David York x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5K (are we even surprised at this point)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** NSFW 18+ INFIDELITY! (reader is engaged, David is married) language, Smut, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, **daddy kink** oral (f receiving) vaginal fingering, squirting, semi-public sex praise & aftercare, heavy guilt, violence / death- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist

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It was disorienting when you woke up. This was not your bed, this was not your room, this is not Charlie.

The both of you must have fallen asleep after everything you’d done. Your phone was still beeping, it was what had woken you up in the first place. You looked at the time - it was two am.

Babe? What the hell is going on? Are you okay?

Jesus Christ.

You had six missed calls from Charlie - you had your phone on silent while you and Dave did...your thing. You quickly called him while Dave slept and hoped he wasn’t on his way home.

The guilt was so intense as you laid there, naked with Dave’s cum dried and flaky on the inside of your thighs. The fact that he answered right away made it worse.

“Babe??” He sounded frantic - genuinely worried, which hurt even more.

“Hey- I’m so sorry, I grabbed dinner and then ended up passing out! I was more tired than I thought.” You laughed lightly - trying to keep your voice down so as not to wake Dave. This all felt so wrong and you suddenly wanted to be far away from everyone and everything. You could hear Jack in the background telling Charlie he was being ridiculous.

“Just glad you’re okay - we usually talk before bed and I was worried that we barely spoke today. Just being paranoid I guess.” You could hear his worry and his relief at having heard from you. Dave turned to face you and you gave him a look that said quiet,he lifted his eyebrows at you. Scooting closer to you.

“Yeah I’m okay babe it’s all good. I’m sorry I wasn’t talkative today-” Your voice hitched at the end of your sentence when Dave started kissing your neck. His hand rubbing at the soft skin of your belly, slowly making its way up to cup your breast possessively. You swallowed hard, this was too much. Charlie kept speaking but you had a lump in your throat as you tried to tell Dave to stop with a look.

He ignored you. Charlie was telling you about his day while Dave made his way between your legs, putting your them on his shoulders. You were trying to close them as Charlie's voice sounded in your ear, but he held them open. He ran a finger through your folds, collecting your arousal and making a show of tasting you.

“That’s awesome babe - did you have fun?” You tried to keep your voice normal but he was kissing your thighs and spreading you open. He looked up at you through his lashes as he speared you with two thick fingers, curling them just so. It was hard to focus with him hitting that spongy spot inside you that made you see stars. You could hear the wet noises your cunt was making and the blush crept up your chest.

“Sorry babe I’m so tired, let me call you tomorrow - love you!” You were trying to close your legs and Dave let you, putting them together over one shoulder. His fingers didn’t stop however, it only made you tighter, made you feel him more this way.

You hung up as Charlie said his goodbyes and you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were so close to falling off the cliff. He stopped then when you hung up and you whimpered. He shifted so he was kneeling, holding your legs together in one arm as he guided himself to your opening.

You moaned at the stretch - you’d lost count how many times he’d fucked you and even though your pussy was puffy and sore you didn’t want him to stop. Your arousal flowing freely despite how tired you were.

“Has he ever made you this wet? Does he know how to fuck this pretty pussy? My pretty pussy?” His strokes were slow and thorough, burying himself to the hilt and slowly pulling all the way out, watching himself disappear fully into your slicked cunt. His balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, a soft pap pap pap accompanying the wet sounds of body sucking him in.

How could you still be this turned on? How could you still be leaking slick onto the ruined bedspread after having him inside you so many times? How the fuck could he ask you this right now? You couldn’t answer, not when it felt so good. He didn’t like that though, you knew the rules.

He pulled all the way out and waited until you answered.

“No - no one has ever fucked me like this, no one has ever made me this wet before, please - please make me cum again, please daddy.” You tried to reach up to pull him close to you but he didn’t let you - he guided himself into you once more and set a brutal pace.

He opened your legs wide - holding them by the back of your thighs - just above your knees. He nearly folded your body in half as he pushed your legs up into your chest. The new angle made you wail, he was hitting something deep, something that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Does that feel good? Look how cock-dumb you are right now, so fucking pretty, taking my dick so well… god, I could fuck this pussy for hours..” He was snapping his hips, hitting your pelvis hard and it was too much, something huge was happening inside you, you felt it in your stomach and it was spreading, blinding you.

It was like you were floating for a moment, suspended in air as felt yourself pushing him out of your body. You shuddered violently and felt the liquid gush of your orgasm between you.

“Fuck baby, fuck that’s so good. So fucking good...my good girl.” He was stroking himself against your ruined cunt, the thick tip of him rubbing your clit as you shuddered. You felt him cum on your mound but you could barely move. He rubbed his cock through your folds, through your combined liquids. You felt tired, bone tired. You felt filthy, never having been this wanton with anyone before - it was scarily satisfying, and you needed comfort.

Maybe it was his depravity, the way he made you mad with lust but you always needed something after and he knew how to give it to you.

He got up and walked over to his bathroom and cleaned himself up, bringing a warm wet rag with him. This is the only thing Dave did gently.

He opened your legs and cleaned you thoroughly, every trace of himself, every drop of your own arousal. You winced slightly, your pussy was sensitive and sore.

“You did so good baby, such a good girl for me. You took me so well - this pussy was made for me. So perfect and pretty and just for me. You know you’re my favourite right?” He rubbed soothing circles over the soft skin of your belly and it made you uncharacteristically needy for him.

“Yes - Just for you.” You repeated softly. You wanted him closer.

He took the blanket out from under you, it was soaked and he tossed it into the hamper beside the dresser, stopping to grab another from the closet. He covered you with it and got into bed beside you. You half expected him to tell you to get dressed but he didn’t, he laid with you and pulled you into his chest. He rubbed soothing circles onto your back while you listened to his heartbeat in your ear.

“Sleep baby, you deserve it. I’ll drive you home in the morning.” He kissed your forehead - the tenderness after everything you’d done was overwhelming. “Do you need some water?” He seemed to remember how long you’d been in bed together and now that he mentioned it you were parched.

“Yes please -” Before you had finished he was up and out of the room. You looked around, felt the bed underneath you. It smelled like sex and sweat and his wife's perfume.

You should have been ashamed of yourself. The guilt was always present and you felt it now but the slithering thing had wrapped itself around it, choking the life out of it and when you saw him walk into the room with a big glass of water and a little smile you couldn’t be bothered.

“Here- drink this and then we can get some sleep.” He watched as you drank, a guilty look flickering across his face when he saw how thirsty you were, you drained the whole glass and handed it back to him. Wiping a few drops from your chin with the back of your hand.

He got into bed behind you and spooned you, you were tucked into his chest - his hand rubbing your arm while you drifted off, you couldn’t remember ever being this comfortable.

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

All the softness was gone the next morning.

You saw it clearly then, there are two versions of Dave - that you know of.

The confident, cocky powerhouse with a big dick that fucks you like a god and makes you see stars through your pussy. The David that is cool, calm and collected - indifferent and laissez faire about you and your life and the destruction he’s wrought.

Then there’s aftercare David. The soft, soothing David. The one that makes you feel safe and calls you his best girl and makes you want to leave everything behind. Makes you want to worship him and do whatever it takes to hear those words.

My good girl, my best girl

But you aren’t a good girl are you, you’re a cheater. You’re a manipulator and your fiance is worrying about you while you’re getting fucked three ways from Sunday in a married man's bed.

The slithering thing has no loyalties - and it turns on you now in the cold light of day.

You think all these things and more as you get dressed, as you gather any evidence of your night with David in his room, in his marital bed and slink away to wait for him to take you home. You vaguely wonder if he’ll fuck Carol in this bed tonight. Will he think of you?

Does he say those filthy things to her? Does he make her beg and plead and call him daddy? Somehow you don’t think so, and if he does - you definitely shouldn’t care.

You’re quiet on the way home, the guilt and the shame are eating you alive. Consuming you from the inside out and every time you think about what you did, what you let him do to you your stomach roils. You want to scrape David out of your mind and out of your body. Exorcise yourself of him. You can’t even bear to look at him and yet you dread getting out of the car.

Your mind and your body are at war, and he can see it. He can see the way your thighs clench and he can imagine that you're remembering scenes from last night. Can see that you won’t look him in the eye.

Charlie texts you then and it compounds the guilt, makes it solid and gives it heft in your stomach.

Hope you slept well - going on a hike with Jack, talk later - love you xo

You text him back quickly, telling him to be careful and that you loved him too. How can you say these words to him when all you’re thinking about is the pleasant ache at your core? When you’re thinking about inviting David inside - to your haven, to Charlies space. You don’t do it though, you can’t.

When you arrive at your building he pulls into a visitors parking spot and you half expect him to say something filthy and leave you on edge all day but what you don't know is that David is excellent at reading people. He saw your thoughts splayed across your face the whole drive home. What you don’t know is that David doesn't like or love you- David is obsessed with you.

David wants to own you and how you feel about that doesn’t matter to him.

He unlocks the doors after the car is parked and he gives you a moment to collect your things, but only a small moment. He turns to look at you and when you reciprocate he leans over - slowly, watching your mouth as he comes closer and closer.

You know he’s giving you time to pull away but you can’t, even now, even after everything you’ve thought about and the horrible thoughts and the guilt. After all that you cannot pull away.

Instead you lean in too, meeting him halfway and he kisses you roughly, biting your lip, crushing his mouth to yours cruelly. A clashing of teeth and tongues and gasps. His kiss is a reflection of how he feels about you, it’s not soft or loving. It’s all consuming and vulgar and his tongue is licking deep into your mouth. He’s pulling a groan out of you and you can’t help but grab at his hair while he does so and it shames you that even now, you crave him.

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David didn’t know when the switch had happened.

There were things he knew for a certainty, first was that his marriage was a sham. Maybe he had felt something for Carol long ago, when they first met and he had married her because she was as good as any to be a cover. With the way he made a living, he needed his home life to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Second was that he was fond of his girls, they were the good parts of him and they were to be protected.

Third was that he needed more of you. He’d had a taste of your heat, of your whimpers as he drove into you. You were so responsive and pliable, you took everything he gave you and you still wanted more.

He needs more.

“All good on that cellphone you asked me to trace.” His colleague dropped off the files on his desk as he finished typing up his report. Now he would know where you were at all times. Would be able to see everything you did on your phone. He could read every text, every email - could see every call.

There was a little part of his brain that genuinely tried to tell him this was wrong. That you were going to get married to someone else - that he had his own family; but then he could see you writhing underneath him, could hear you begging for him to fuck you harder. Telling him you were his and his alone and he couldn’t give that up.

This was better.

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

It was easy to focus on work the week after. You could make the argument that your weekend with Dave made you better. Yeah right.

You planned so many activities for the kids you barely had time to think about anything - including your wedding planning commitments. You had venues to visit, you had cakes to taste and a rehearsal dinner to plan. You decided to throw yourself into that too.

You walked through the grocery store slowly, it was early enough in the day that it was still relatively empty. Your mind bouncing from one trivial thing to the next, going over your list, reminding yourself to do a load of laundry when you get home.

Maybe I'll make pork chops tonight, I really have to clean out the fridge.

It starts out as a prickle across your skin, heavy eyes on you; tracking you through the grocery store. You try to find the source but you can’t so you try to focus on the aisle in front of you. What did you need again?

Peanut butter - that’s right- but it doesn’t go away, it persists until you’re slightly alarmed and you don’t know why.

Your phone dings then and when you check your heart races- it’s Dave.

I want you.

There’s no preamble and you can’t deal with this right now, you can’t just drop everything whenever he messages you; so you ignore it. You’re busy.

When you go to pay the feeling hasn’t gone away, there is something at play here and it’s making you uncomfortable, enough to rush out to your car and look out for your surroundings when you hastily shove your bags into the trunk of your car.

“Why did you ignore me baby?” His voice startles you as you’re closing the trunk. Was it him that had you so keyed up?

“Dave… what are you doing here?” You were a little relieved that it was him, but only a little.

“I came to do some groceries, saw you and texted but you didn’t answer. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were ignoring me, but you aren’t right honey?” He moved closer to you, pinning you with his gaze. There was something cold in his eyes but you felt the arousal burning in your belly regardless.

You’d never know why, but there were warning bells going off in your brain; they were screaming at you to get away as fast as you could but he was staring at your lips and your legs wouldn’t move.

“No, I was just busy. I c-can’t just drop…” your back was curving to get away from him but there was nowhere to go. “I cannot just drop everything when you message me David. I have a life.” You put a little steel into your voice. You were in the middle of the grocery store parking lot for goodness sake.

He didn’t say anything, as he put his hands on your waist - grabbing onto you when he dipped his head to place a chaste kiss on your exposed collar bone. It flustered you and you had to bite the soft sigh but it came out anyway. You were lost then.

He led you to the backseat of your car and opened the door, sitting you inside with your legs still outside the car. The words were at the back of your throat, stuck behind your molars, coming forth to the tip of your tongue but never further. Your mind tried desperately to rebel, to shake you like an unruly child and snap you out of your madness but your body was pliable, changeable to his proverbial wind.

Instead you sat with him crouched in front of you just outside the car - his hands undoing your jeans and bringing them down along with your panties to leave you bare to anyone who happened to look inside your car. It was exhilarating and terrifying the way you let this man expose you this way.

“This pretty little pussy has been on my mind since our special weekend.” you could only open your legs slightly with your jeans around your knees. Enough for him to glide his fingers along your puffy lips, your arousal just bleeding through your folds. You watched him touch you, your body doing absolutely nothing to stop him. “It’s mine isn’t it?” He asked and you vaguely registered yourself nodding as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Look how hard you make me baby, constantly craving this wet cunt.” You could see the heft of him when he palmed himself. The outline of his dick pronounced enough to make you groan. He leaned forward to taste you, parting your seam with his tongue, gliding it against your clit. You moaned out and ran your fingers through his hair, the rest of the world and your surroundings forgotten with the action. He couldn’t get enough, pushing his face harder into your mound to get deeper but it wasn’t enough.

Instead he told you to move into the car so he could sit in your backseat, moving your driver's seat up to make room for his legs and you rushed to obey.

That was the word wasn’t it? That’s what you make me do, obey.

The thought came to you but it almost felt like it was someone else in your mind - explaining it to you as you struggled to get at least one leg free from the confines of your jeans. When he finally sat in the backseat you frantically pulled at his zipper, grasping his cock in your hand and lowering yourself onto him as quickly as you could.

You shared a groan when he was fully sheathed by your wet heat. He bucked up quickly, the both of you so close already; the knowledge that anyone could look in and see you riding him at any time only served to make you leak onto his lap. It made his cock twitch to think that you wanted him enough to let him take you like this - out in the open.

You were just as frantic as you rolled your hips, your fingers clutching at his shirt, his hair, his shoulders; whatever you could reach. His hand snaked up and he wrapped it around your throat, applying the barest amount of pressure and you moaned.

“Fuck baby, you like this? Does my good girl like when I grab her throat?” He squeezed a little and your body answered him by dripping more arousal onto his lap. Your cunt definitely liked it.

“Look at how wet you get, fuck. Are you mine baby?” He asked as he put a little more force into his movements. His feet were planted firmly as he bucked up, you moaned a yes daddy as he held you tightly. “Rub your clit, make yourself cum on my big dick.” He moaned into your ear and once again you obeyed. When your pussy fluttered with your orgasm his thrusts became erratic along with his words. Ramblings about owning you, about you never being able to get rid of him, words whispered fervently onto your skin as he painted your insides with his release.

You came to your senses before he did and you wanted to get dressed.

“I have to go Dave let me get dressed.” You tried to get off him but he held you tightly.

“What if I don’t want you to go? What if I want you to sit on my cock all day? Keep it warm for me.” He was kissing your neck, pulling your shirt down to kiss the tops of your breasts.

“Stop David, I have to go home and so do you. Playtime is over.” You were getting a little braver now that the fog of lust had cleared. He looked at you then and any softness was gone - his eyes grew cold and his hand came to your throat again.

“You said this pussy is mine. Were you lying?” His hand held your throat possessively and you felt him hardening inside you once more.

“What are you talking about? When we fuck you own me, but outside of this I have a life, I’ll be married soon and you have your wife and kids. This cannot continue no matter how much I enjoy it. You know that right? We have to be realistic here.” His eyes narrowed in a way that you didn’t recognize, he had a faraway look and you had to bring him back to you. “I meant what I said before. No one has ever made me feel the way you do, no one has ever fucked me the way you do and I lose my mind around you but you have to know it cannot continue.” You gently pulled his hand away from your throat, and kissed him as softly as you could. You were chasing the comfort he usually gave you.

For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be swayed, but what you soon realized was that you affected him just as much as he affected you. You pulled him close, whimpering into his mouth. There was a heady feeling in the power you felt, at being the one to calm him and you took it as far as you could.

“You know it’s yours daddy, my pussy is only for you. We had a lot of fun, you made me cum so hard. I’m going to be feeling your cock for hours. So big and hard inside me.” You kissed his neck, relishing the feeling of his dick twitching at your words. His hands held you almost violently, as if he couldn't get you close enough.

“It is mine isn’t it.” He spoke into your neck, making you bounce on him again, chasing the friction so he could cum again.

The second time was slower, you were fucking him now. Your hips a slow grind on his cock, his cum and your arousal making it so slippery, so much better. He was whining into your neck and you felt so fucking powerful. You weren’t thinking about the implications of your actions. You weren’t thinking how he would perceive this as your admittance to his ownership over you.

You didn’t realize the mistake you were making.

“It’s mine, you’re mine baby- tell me - fuck - tell me you’re mine.” He groaned the words.

“I’m yours, only yours. My cunt, my tits - my body. Yours all yours.” You whimpered as you came again, clamping down on his cock almost painfully tight. It triggered his own release and as you sat there slowly stroking each other, he was calculating his next move.

——————

You didn’t think about the interaction much, your ability to compartmentalize this part of you - the part you willingly gave to him should have shocked you; but even that was tucked away. When you were home with Charlie - it was a daydream. You never actually did those things? You didn’t open your legs like a whore every time Dave looked at you- that had to be someone else.

It was easy to be distracted with the rehearsal dinner coming up, the two of you finally agreeing on a really nice restaurant downtown. It felt better to have the invitations sent, felt like you were finally doing something to contribute to your own wedding. It made you guilty to think you’d barely done anything in that department but say yes. Charlie had taken care of all of the arrangements up until now, that had to change.

---

You should have felt guilty that all you could think of while you got ready for the rehearsal dinner was the fact that Dave hadn’t reached out since the morning in the parking lot. You should have been relieved, the... indiscretion had run its course and now you were where you were supposed to be. With Charlie… Right?

You could hear him rummaging in the closet, his movements becoming more and more erratic and his voice was rising.

“Babe - have you seen my tie? I could have sworn I hung it with my suit but it’s gone.” He looked through his garment bag furiously and you took pity. You assumed it must have fallen somewhere but you were soon sharing his frustration. It was nowhere to be found.

It was too late to do anything about it now, he wore another tie and you quickly made your way towards the restaurant.

It was nice to see everyone there, you had reserved a few tables near the back and your wedding party and close family had all come out to celebrate the two of you. Charlie was in a good mood, his hand finding a way to touch you and keep you close. The slithering thing however - raged. It was thrashing and screaming inside you, seeking out Dave as you drank your wine. You imagined how it would have been if you’d been marrying him instead. You imagined him meeting your family - your mother might have thought you were a bit young for him. Your father might have been impressed that he was well established, a secure job - a good future for you. You could almost feel his hand gripping your thigh under the table - whispering filth into your ear as you tried to eat.

“I’d let that man crack me open like a walnut.” Your best friend and maid of honour broke you out of your daydream to point out a man walking with his family towards a table not far from yours. Had he heard your thoughts? It felt like your stomach fell out of your body when his dark eyes locked on yours.

“Oh god.” It came out involuntarily. Your friend took it as an agreement to her statement.

“Right? What a dilf.” She was swooning - he was so fucking handsome.

Alice caught sight of you then and waved excitedly. You gave her a small wave back.

“You know him?” Your friend grabbed your arm excitedly.

“Yes - that’s my student Alice, her parents Carol and Dave.” It felt wrong to say his name out loud. Like everyone would know all the things you’d done once it was out in the air. You saw Carol smile at you then - saying something to Dave whose eyes had never left yours. Your blood ran cold when they walked over to your table.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. York, how’s your evening going?” You smiled as naturally as you could when they each shook your hand. Both of them smiled and made small talk.

“Hey babe who’s this?” Charlie came over and put his hand on the small of your back.

“Mr. and Mrs. York - this is my fiance Charlie. Charlie, these are the parents of my student Alice.” He shook hands with Carol, and then David. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck seeing them shake hands.

“Please, call me David - I feel like I know your fiance so well - Alice talks about her all the time.” He smiled, the very picture of friendliness. Charlie was all smiles.

My little golden retriever. The slithering thing was cruel tonight.

David smiled at you, while Carol prattled on about what a lovely couple you were - how gorgeous your children would be and how excited she was for you. David smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You could see the cracks in it, especially as Charlie tucked you into his side.

When the incredibly awkward meeting was over and you were sitting with your maid of honour again she was reeling, asking you questions about Dave. You had to gently remind her - and yourself - that he was married.

“Yes yes I know - but it’s fun to imagine right? God I bet he has a big dick. I just know he does. Would probably fuck you into the mattress, look at those hands.” She was almost drooling and you really couldn’t blame her. You knew the truth.

As the night went on you were getting more and more flustered as you felt David's eyes on you, he was suffocating you. What the fuck were the odds that he would be here tonight? You thought he might have done it on purpose but that would be insane. How could he possibly know? There was no logical way the knowledge could have gotten back to him. You briefly thought about him surprising you at the grocery store; just a coincidence, right?

You had to get away all of a sudden. With everyone enjoying themselves, with the wine flowing along with the conversation it was easy to slip away to the bathroom. You weren’t alone for long though, someone knocked on the door and kept knocking no matter how many times you said it was busy so you hurried to finish, not wanting to hold up the line.

David pushed you back in when you opened the door and before you could register what was happening he was kissing you. If anyone had asked you later on you would have denied it, but you were just as frantic.

You pulled at his hair and yanked him closer, and then somewhat came to your senses after the initial passion. You were in the bathroom at your wedding rehearsal dinner.

“David - stop, we can’t. I have to get back - Carol and Charlie…” He was hiking up your dress as you spoke and although your words said one thing, your actions said another. You were helping him, opening his belt and pulling down his pants to wrap your hand around his cock.

“Charlie?” His tone was mocking as he ripped your underwear, almost burning your thigh with the force of it. You moaned -

Charlie doesn’t make me feel like this. You couldn’t even summon up the guilt, not with how you were dripping, glossy and wet for him. Not with how hard his cock was for you - not with how he rubbed it through your folds as he hiked your leg high on his hip.

“Charlie doesn’t make you this wet does he baby, doesn’t fuck this wet little pussy like daddy does” He wasn’t gentle, he buried himself to the hilt and it knocked the air out of you. He held onto your throat with one hand as he snapped his hips forward hard and fast, your cunt practically sucking him in. His hand tightened slightly when you didn’t answer him.

“No, no he - fuck - no he doesn’t.” His pace was bruising, it was rough and you didn’t want it to stop. It wasn’t enough for him though.

“You have to remember who this fucking pussy belongs to… I’m going to make you cum while Charlie is outside. You’re going to feel me while you’re with him.” He pulled out and you whimpered, he stood off to the side and put your leg on the toilet then he slid two fingers into your swollen cunt, curling them and hitting that spongy spot with a brutal speed. The pressure was so intense you couldn’t even scream.

“There it is - going to squirt for me?” He was whispering in your ear as his hand almost blurred between your legs. You left your body as you felt the wet gush of your orgasm. It was all over the floor and dripping down your legs.

If he wasn’t holding you, you would have slid down the wall.

“That’s it, what a good girl.” He was back between your legs, slamming himself back into you - your arousal wetting his pant legs but he didn’t care. “Open your fucking mouth.” He snarled into your face, his hand ever present at your throat and you did. He spit into it - “Swallow.” You felt depraved, you felt disgusting, you were wetter than you’d ever fucking been and if he stopped you would have died.

His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic.

“I’m going to cum in this pretty mouth, and then you’re going to kiss Charlie.” He pulled out and you scrambled to get onto your knees. He held you by the hinge of your jaw and stroked himself onto your tongue. You swallowed as much as you could, reaching up to catch whatever dripped out.

“Kiss him when you get to the table, daddy’s watching.” he spoke calmly as he put himself away. He didn’t even bother washing his hands before he slipped out; leaving you to clean up the mess.

---

You looked in the mirror when he left and it was like you were looking at a stranger. Who was this woman looking back at you? With the red marks on her neck, with the ruined underwear that had to be thrown out. Red knees and lips.

That’s you, that’s always been you

The slithering thing was sated and happy, basking in the afterglow of the violent orgasm Dave had ripped from you.

No one noticed you when you went back to your table, the red lips were assumed to be wine stains. The red flush the alcohol. David’s eyes bored into you as you kissed Charlie, terrified he’d know but he didn’t. The slithering thing cheered while you wilted, your conscience finally convincing you that this might have gotten out of control.

The guilt was building and building as they came to say goodbye, Carol congratulating you once more and David shaking Charlie’s hand.

“It’s so funny, I didn’t notice before but I was going to wear a tie just like that tonight.” Charlie was smiling. Even the slithering thing stilled - no longer celebrating as a terrifying thought crept into your mind.

“What a coincidence.” David smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

---

There was an impenetrable fog that obscured every and all thought. A cumulonimbus cloud thick enough to swim through. It covered everything in a gauzy haze and made it so difficult to focus on anything; it caused basic tasks to be completed almost instinctively.

You got home, but didn’t remember how. You took a shower, washed your face. You were in bed with Charlie; comfortable in clean pyjamas and yet still, you couldn’t understand how.

Had David broken into your apartment somehow? Getting into the building - unfortunately - wouldn’t be too hard you could understand that. He could charm his way in, or happen to catch someone as they walked out but how did he get into your unit? Your locks still worked. Neither of you had come home to a broken down door.

How would he even know which unit was ours?

You kept going back and forth within your own mind, wrestling yourself with the logic of it. On the one hand, there was no fucking way he had done this. It was absolutely insane. David York did not break into your apartment just to steal your fiance’s tie. The implications of it were too big for you to handle. It would have meant that he knew about your rehearsal dinner, which logically speaking - he couldn’t. You hadn’t told him.

He would have had to know which day Charlie bought his suit and tie, which again - you knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t know that the dinner was scheduled for tonight and that it would be at that specific restaurant. Were you actually considering that he would somehow manage to find out all of this information and then proceed to use it by wearing the tie - he somehow manager to steal - just to fuck with you? You sighed heavily - thankful that Charlie was blessedly fast asleep.

You were then forced to consider the alternative, which was that he had done just that. Found a way to keep tabs on you. You thought back to all of your interactions with him, painstakingly running through the events through your mind to a time where he would have access to… to what? What could he possibly do? You knew he had some sort of office job. Government? Police? What did he even do? You were startled to realize you didn’t actually know.

The question remained, and multiplied - growing from simply how, to when? His only chance would have been when you were in his home, but even then - what could he have done, the two of you had been together, busy.

You fell asleep

The slithering thing whispered, seeming to make amends and changing its tune with the fear you felt now, along with arousal at the thought of Dave. You’d both been asleep though, hadn't you?

Your phone flashed then - a text message from your best friend - congratulating you and stating how excited she was about the wedding, about how hot that dad had been with some smiley faces. You looked at your phone curiously then. Could this be how?

All of the information about the dinner, about Charlie's shopping trip - it was all here. The invitations had been sent through email. Anyone with access to your phone would know all of the details Dave would have needed to do the things you were -only a little seriously- suspecting him of. It still begs the question though, how could he have access to your phone?

You didn’t fall asleep until very late, looking at your phone with fearful suspicion.

——

It was difficult to concentrate.

Even after a few days, your mind was still clouded with doubt; you didn’t know what to think. It was hard to quantify all of the implications of your mistake and at this point you had no idea what to do about it. There was no way out that wouldn’t be messy.

You never had a choice

When did the slithering thing start sounding like Dave?

The startling realization hit you then, you’d never had any control over the situation; he had successfully invaded every part of you.

The situation had become so dire, so panic-inducing that Charlie had taken notice of your far off expression. You were unusually quiet, lost in thought and guilt alike more often than not.

You tried to reassure him that it was just stress, not getting enough sleep, anxiety over the upcoming wedding but you knew he imagined it was cold-feet. You were ashamed to admit that maybe it was. Maybe after all this, this taste of the forbidden fruit had soured everything else.

Charlie’s optimism became naivety. His willingness to compromise had become a weakness. Dave had poisoned every aspect of your life, ruining you for other men and for what? He’d made you no promises, no assurances of what would happen as a result of your indiscretion but he demanded everything from you; no regard for your life.

The worst part was you knew all of this, you were well aware of exactly what his terms were and you took it with your greedy little hands and your greedy little cunt.

You have no one to blame but yourself

—-

One week until the wedding

Things hadn’t gotten better.

The cure for a guilty conscience however, in your opinion, was working yourself to the point of exhaustion. Throwing every ounce of energy into teaching your class, activities and creative exercises left no room for Dave.

The side effect however was no better, Charlie hovered - borderline berating you for working too hard. You vaguely wondered to yourself if you wanted Charlie to catch you. Maybe he didn’t pay as much attention to you as he should have, maybe you should have been paying more attention to him?

No - this was your guilty conscience trying to deflect your abhorrent behaviour; this was the slithering thing changing it’s tactic by turning you against Charlie. The truth was that Charlie was giving you the benefit of the doubt, he was convinced that this was all pre-wedding jitters which to be fair, it should have been.

---

Five days until the wedding.

You should have been finalizing plans. You should have been excited and jittery and planning your honeymoon - which you hadn’t. You hadn’t said a word about the upcoming ceremony, and if Charlie brought it up you quickly changed the subject.

“I spoke to the florist, everything is all set. All we have to do now is show up.” He said it almost tentatively. Approaching the subject like a bomb technician. You responded with an mhm as you flitted around the kitchen, gathering your supplies for the school day.

“Babe, are you okay?” He faced you head on now, a little grown on his face.

“Of course, just running late.” You didn’t look him in the eye and while this would have worked a few weeks ago, it didn’t today.

“Stop, give me a second- please.” He stood in front of you, holding you by your shoulders so you were forced to confront him. “I’m not sure what’s going on, whether it’s stress from work, or nervous about the wedding but i'm here, it’s me, it’s us.” He was holding you, trying to connect with you on the same level you’d always been connected to each other but there was a wall; it’s name is David.

“Charlie, I’m fine. It’s all good - I’m stressed from work and this whole big wedding thing is giving me anxiety and frankly I don’t have time for this.” You gently pulled away from him, and much to your annoyance - he let you go, sighing heavily.

“You know I love you right?” His voice pulled at your heart, for a moment you were yourself- remembering the sweet boy that made you laugh. The lovely man in front of you who did everything he could to make you happy - but then you imagined David. He wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.

“Yes, I know - I love you too. Everything will be fine I promise.” You kissed him quickly as you ran out the door.

-----

Four days until the wedding

You stared at your phone while you waited for the steady trickle of parents, you wanted to smooth things over with Charlie but you didn’t know how to. Worst of all you didn’t actually know whether or not you even wanted to at this point. The thoughts jumbled together maddeningly before being interrupted by the soft knock from the first set of parents for the night. It went smoothly, until it was Carol's turn.

When Carol York walked into your classroom your heart fell into your stomach.

She sat and chatted with you, asking about the wedding and your fiance. It was difficult not to feel awkward - not with all of the truly filthy things you'd let her husband do to you. You studied her while she prattled away about Alice’s grades and home life. Her wedding ring drew your attention first, it was ostentatious. A huge rock on her delicate finger - her bag was designer, so were her shoes.

What does she do? What does David do?

You let her talk, trying to subtly gain some insight into her psyche - maybe you were trying to understand why David was so relentless in his pursuit of you. Maybe you wanted to compare yourself to this woman.

“What do you do Mrs York?” You asked her, trying not to jump onto the subject of her husband right away.

“Oh please, call me Carol! I work for a design firm, mostly commercial buildings and offices. Corporate design you could say.” She smiled, so friendly; you wondered whether it was blissful ignorance or a mutual understanding that it was all for show that kept her and David together. Neither one would have been preferable.

“That’s lovely, and what about Mr. York - what does he do?” If your face had given anything away, she didn’t mention it.

“Oh David works for the government. It’s all terribly bureaucratic and boring. I swear though sometimes it’s like the man works for the CIA with how secretive he can be about his work, like I need to know everything that happens. An office is an office and they’re all the same aren’t they?” Her laugh was soft.

Blissful ignorance the slithering thing decided.

You thought about her a lot after she left, lingering on Davids job and what he could have access to. Was he really CIA? That was a slightly terrifying thought.

Your thoughts circled back around however and the truth of the matter was that neither Carol or Charlie deserved to be treated this way. The knock at the door startled you - your head snapping up to see who was here. The school had been empty with Carol being your last appointment.

“How was the meeting with my wife?” Dave was leaning against the door frame.

Your stomach dropped.

“What are you doing here? Carol just left - did you see her in the parking lot?” The audacity of this man was perplexing, how could he show up here and risk his wife seeing him.

“I saw her leave, she didn’t see me.” He walked over to you but you held your ground - looking up into his handsome face. The shame hit you like a bolt of lightning when he looked into your eyes, it hit you because all of the contemplating - all of the regret and the shame at having done all you had went right out the window.

“So where does Carol think you are right now?” You had to know.

“Same place Charlie thinks you are. At work.” He couldn’t keep the mocking tone out of his voice when saying Charlie's name. It was curious that he could seemingly hate Charlie - he was just your Carol.

“What do you do?” The question bubbled out of your mouth almost of its own volition and you saw his eyes narrow slightly.

“I work for the government.” He didn’t elaborate and his expression said the matter was closed. You had an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach along with the all too familiar ache of arousal his very presence seemed to inspire.

“I’m curious.” You didn’t think you could say more than that, there was a voice in the back of your mind, quieter than the slithering thing but much stronger.

Don’t ask too many questions - he won’t like that

You listened.

“I missed you baby, didn’t you miss me?” The flip had switched when you backed off, this was what he was here for. You couldn't lie to him.

“Yes - I did.” You stared up at him, at his mouth. The plush bottom lip you liked to bite because it made him groan. The tawny skin of his neck - it made you want to stand up on your tippy toes to kiss him there.

“What are you thinking about?” It came out almost playful, was it so obvious?

“Your neck.” There was no point in lying to him. “I want to kiss it.” Your body carried you closer to him and he made space for you in his arms, hugging you close to him. This was uncharacteristic of him. This kind of comfort usually came after he’d wrung every ounce of pleasure and decency from you and it felt so intimate. It felt more vulgar because he was showing how he felt about you. How he wanted to feel about you.

You couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled. How your face fit perfectly into the crook of his neck. Even though the knowledge that this could not last, this could not end well, this was the best part. Feeling close to him and even more so - feeling wanted by him.

Utterly enveloped by him.

The mood shifted however as it always does when in his presence, and now his face was in the crook of your neck. Seeking out your warmth and your scent and your skin.

“I’ve missed you so much - think about you constantly.” He spoke between fervent kisses that burned you. “Think about your mouth, your tits, your sweet little cunt and I get so hard for you baby.” He was leaving a blazing path with his mouth. His words searing you just as ardently.

“Tell me, tell me how much you want me.” You needed to hear it, maybe it would all be worth it, the pain and the destruction this would invariably cause in your life as well as his. All would be worth it because he wanted you so badly.

“I want you so much, every minute of every day. I can’t focus, I have to have you. You belong to me.” He was crowding you, his hands seeking out every part of you available to him and he pushed you onto your desk to stand between your legs.

The heat was in your belly now, spreading from your skin into your blood and running through your veins. His words were a forest fire and you couldn’t control it so you let yourself burn for him. Your cunt was weeping and you needed to hear more - everything. You needed him to tell you everything, all of the thoughts, all of the suspicions and the fear were lost when he touched you like this. In these moments with him none of it mattered. Nothing mattered.

“I think about you too, keep telling me- please.” You yanked him by his hair to taste him, forestalling your request by licking into this mouth - as if wanting to taste the truth in his words. He pulled at your leggings and your underwear all at once, leaving you bare for him.

“This pussy owns me as much as I own it, I want to see it dripping in me. My cum sliding out of it - I have to taste it.” He kneeled in front of you and seeing him looking up at you through dark lashes and hooded, lust blown eyes was almost too much. The slick pooled at your entrance and he groaned at the sight of it.

You could feel the flush creeping up your chest at the way he looked up at you. It was almost blasphemous the way he devoured you. His hands were insistent in the way he held your thighs open for him, draping them over his shoulders. You imagined what you looked like then, with your legs spread for him, your heels digging into his back as you ground your hips into the wet heat of his mouth.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and you almost screamed, the coil in your belly winding itself tighter and tighter as he forcibly dragged you over the edge and into oblivion. He hummed onto your skin as he slid two thick fingers into your silken heat. The stretch of his fingers pumping in that maddening rhythm with the wet glide of his tongue over and over and over- It was too much and you grabbed at his hair violently as your orgasm flooded out of you and into his mouth.

—-

Two days until the wedding.

You were meant to finalize a few things today and Charlie had left early in the morning, mentioning a last minute errand he had to run. That had been hours ago and he hadn’t even called.

There was a knock at your apartment door - Charlie must have forgotten his keys again.

“David, what are you doing here?” You felt the colour drain from your face. He pushed his way inside the apartment.

“I needed to see you.” His voice was level but the bile was rising in your throat. Charlie could walk in at any moment.

“David, now is not the time and this is definitely not the place - how did you know where I lived…?” The hairs on the back of your neck were standing on end - his job came to your mind unbidden. He didn’t answer you.

“I need to touch you, I need to fuck you in your bed - in Charlie’s bed.” He had a violent glint in his eye and it startled you just as much as it aroused you.

“Are you crazy? David..” He crashed his lips into yours, giving you no choice.

You wanted to fight him, you wanted to push him away and demand the answers you needed, but you didn’t. You never fought him. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck to get closer. You sighed into his mouth when his tongue plundered yours.

“Take your fucking clothes off now, be good for daddy.” The words almost came out in a growl and you almost ripped them in your haste to obey, the shirt and bra you had been wearing were now a discarded heap on the floor. Your leggings were wrenched down leaving everything but your calves exposed to his touch. He turned you around roughly and pushed your face into your dining room table, your ass on display for him while he undid his belt.

This was how Charlie found you. Naked and panting for a fully clothed man.

“What the fuck?” His voice wasn’t angry, he was too confused for that. His brain hadn’t registered the scene in its entirety until you were scrambling to get your pants up. Apologizing and telling him it wasn’t what he thought it was, which was a lie. It was exactly what he thought it was.

You were about to get fucked by someone else, in your shared apartment, two days before your wedding.

“This whole time, I thought it was nerves. How could you do this to me? Who the fuck are you?” He spoke to you and Dave and while you tried to explain, tried to get your bra back on - David was silent.

Charlie stormed out before you could do anything and David told you to get dressed, that he would go after him.

You had your bra back on, and were just about to run out the door when David burst through your apartment.

“Call an ambulance. Now.”

----

“You say you were both going to grab some lunch and he fell down the stairwell?” The detective was talking to David who had you tucked into his side, a hand rubbing your back in what he imagined was a soothing gesture.

“That’s right, he slipped and fell when we were making our way down. His shoelace must have been untied.” He didn’t even flinch.

You said nothing while David spoke, but you tried to communicate silently to the detective that something was wrong but he barely looked at you. David had handled everything and you knew then that there was nothing to be done. When the interview came to an end, the detective shook his hand, told you how sorry he was and that they would release the body back to you soon.

All you could do was think about all the time David had said you belonged to him. How he would never let you go, and now the only thing keeping you from him was gone.

You were all his.

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

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#dave york x reader #dave york #dave york x you #suburban murder daddy #dave york pit #dave york fanfic #equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader

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plan-d-to-i · 3 years

Note

In my one year of this fandom (I have quitted now bc the fandom ruins MDZS). I am a lurker on the Chinese fandom and Twitter basically both are hells on its own, but the recent post you reblogged from one jc stans sounds so ridiculous.

them : why didn't u tag anti jc or sumth? Shouldn't we be praising our lord and savior jc in canon

This reminds me of the one where they made domestic violence fanfic and purposely trigger fans.

I also don't know how all the Chinese diaspora got away excusing shit YZY has done and throwing it under the bus bc of JFM while he is the really typical Chinese dad. He acts like modern days Chinese dad. Dude is not the best daddy ever, but making YZY the ideal parent when she is abusing kids left and right piss me off, especially since I am also Chinese and knows some tiger parents who don't act like YZY.

Also I really wonder why a lot of fans are getting really personal these days? Or maybe I'm just too tired with the Western MDZS fandom taking everything at personal value and if someone is just ranting something, it must have been about a specific individual involved. When well, not everyone has to vibe with everyone and I am concerned over adults on the internet acting like everyone should adore them, and when somebody curates and block them, they take personal offense and vague their ass right of the bat. And the abuse apologist of this fandom, don't get me started on that too (that's for another day)

Couldn't agree more w everything 💯🥲.

and THIS: "not everyone has to vibe with everyone and I am concerned over adults on the internet acting like everyone should adore them". People are not actually under any obligation to respect & validate opinions when those opinions demonstrate nothing worth validating.

Side note about Jiang Fengmian because I see wild amounts of hate for him. Reading the novel we get a lot of YZY ranting and frankly angling to instigate arguments with JFM (which he either attempts to deescalate or tries to walk away from). ppl can debate whether or not this is an effective way to deal w her behavior, but what can't be argued is that she's the abusive one in that relationship. She's the one coming in w unjustified negative energy, throwing a tantrum at everyone around her because she feels like it. Because she believes other people owe it to her to suffer her temper. We know JFM was pressured by her side into marrying her and that she made no attempts to integrate into life at Lotus Pier/her new role. Neither in name -remaining Madam Yu instead of Jiang, physically -by living apart w her own people, or in mentality & ideals. Meanwhile she accuses JFM of things there's no evidence of- in fact the opposite -JFM let his servant leave to happily marry Cangse Sanren. Furthermore she accuses JFM of ignoring his son in order to favor WWX, as though it's not WWX she gets to repeatedly whip and punish constantly over minor or imagined infractions. What's more- we're told JFM repeatedly makes efforts to connect with jc. Hell we're even shown how he tried to guide him into having a better understanding of the values and ideals he's meant to uphold as the future leader of the YunmengJiang Clan -when she storms in and interrupts this to accuse him of... not caring. Her words and the actual facts are contrasted right there for the reader.

“There was resentment within her heart. She simply wanted to let out the rage, even if it made no sense. All the rest were quiet as they endured her temper.” (Chapter 51)

#mdzd #yu ziyuan #madam yu #jiang fengmian

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imagine-straykids · 3 years

Text

Stray Kids SS: Argument PT. 1

SS for short scenarios. Stray Kids arguing with their significant others

requested? No. I just write whenever I feel like it.

genre: fluff, angst, romance, etc etc.

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

Bang Chan

You’re no bragger but you think you’re pretty reasonable most of the times. You understand your boyfriend is a busy person and his work came first and foremost. You’ve tried not to take it personally and he has made it pretty clear before you guys even got into this relationship that he wouldn’t be the best person with time management.

Of course you took a gamble and compromised to form this bond with the one and only Christopher Bang. You had always put his feelings first whether that’s him choosing his friends, work, or music over you, you were definitely okay with that as long as he came back to you at the end of the day. Even the smallest texts nearing the end of the night like “Goodnight sweetie, hope you had a good day!” was enough for you. You weren’t asking for much. You don’t know how much lower you can set your standards because slowly and progressively, Chan was already failing to meet them.

The most you guys have ever been apart was maybe two weeks and even then, Chan had always made sure to check on you through texts or phone calls. So when it was nearing a month, and he has rejected your invitation to do something for the second time in a month, you were left to feel less than pleasant whether you had set yourself up for failure or perhaps did you deserve more than what you had settled for.

You couldn’t help but to be upset to some degree and even then you still doubted if your feelings were valid. You even felt guilty since you had promised him a long time ago you would be understanding. Were you wrong for just wanting a little bit of your boyfriend’s attention?

So when Felix brought you his breakfast treats like he would every Sunday because the boy loves baking, he could tell in your eyes that your world was seeing more than blue. You weren’t your usual self who was always welcoming and greeted him with warmth. The tone in your voice and your body language imitated that of a walking dead and although you tried your hardest to put on a great appearance, Felix could see right through you.

When he had asked you if you were alright, a sea of tears just came bursting through. Like a puddle that you had held inside for weeks finally being freed. You told Felix everything and everything. It was nice to have someone to talk to, for once in a long time. Felix had always been very understanding of you and was very much like a brother. He reassured you and you felt so much better after, that when he left, you even thought you might finally be able to get a good nap after some words of comforts.

Your nap was shortly disrupted when a series of loud knocks were ringing through your door. It took you a few seconds to process everything because your brain was still trying to wake up along with you. Then a beep from your phone was heard. You turned to the left side where you had placed your phone and noticed long notifications of texts and missed calls from Chan. Oh lord. Well of course who could that be at the door then.

Felix had only told Chan out of good intention, and honestly you weren’t even surprised. Not one thing said to one of those boys will stay in its origin. You crankily tossed your blanket aside and walked up to the door as you took a deep breath. You opened the door and it was just the one person you were expecting.

Chan looked totally out of breath, as if he had been beaten by a stick over and over again, you can see the sweats tracing along the line of his forehead down to his cheeks and his hair has gotten messier than usual.

“Chan--” You were cut when Chan just shoved himself inside your apartment.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He looked at you dead in the eyes as he shut the front door.

“Tell you what?” You weren’t acting naive but you just wanted to know what exactly Felix had told him.

“What you told Felix. Why didn’t you tell me that? That you wanted to hang out with me, that you’ve been feeling sad and lonely?”

“I did. I asked you twice if you wanted to go out or do something. You said no both times.” You defended yourself.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you were not feeling good then?” A worrisome look overshadowed his angrier look earlier.

“Pfft,” you scoffed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Really Chan? Do I need to feel less than okay, do I need to question if my boyfriend even wants to be with me, for you to actually worry now?” you challenged him full on.

“What do you mean.” Chan wasn’t gullible, but sometimes when he gets too caught up on one thing, he misses another.

“Why should it be my responsibility that you act like a reasonable boyfriend who cares about his girlfriend’s needs. I shouldn’t need to tell you when you should be doing your parts. You were on the line of almost ignoring me for a whole month, doing whatever you’re doing without caring for my well being, and the two times I ask to do something, I get pushed aside. And you’re here telling me I’m not trying harder?”

“I already told you from the beginning, y/n, that I am not the best person to be in a relationship with. I lose track of times, get lost in my own thoughts. I apologize if I made you feel like I didn’t care about you. I do. Sometimes I just need time to myself, you know. And I try to do it without hurting your feelings but it’s hard. Because I care about you too.”

“I know that you’ve warned me from the beginning. And I’m a fool. I can’t do it anymore, Chan. I’m not the girlfriend you want me to be. I thought I could do it because I love you so much... but it hurts to be away from you. I can’t do it, Chan. Sometimes I just miss you, and want to be with you, but I’m afraid I’m going to bother you because you’ve already set your boundaries. I’m sorry.” you started sobbing even thought you told yourself you weren’t going to cry.

Chan quickly pulled you into a hug as you ugly sob into his chest.

“It’s going to be okay, y/n. We can get through this together. If you still love me, we can talk it through. You still love me, right?” he angled your frowning face up to his.

“Of course,” you answer like music to his ear.

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

Lee Know

Before you ever accepted Minho’s confession, you’ve been told by nearly everyone around him that he would be a handful. And oh Jesus, you wish they had warned you better, because he wasn’t just a handful. Minho was a pain in the ass if he didn’t try. Even before you got together with him, he found pleasure in teasing and making fun of you whenever he got the chance to.

But besides the assholery moves Minho liked to pull, when he was just with you, he showed sides of himself that only you got to experience. That’s pretty much your answer whenever somebody ask you how did you guys even got into a relationship considering y’all were pretty much like fire and water. The person who everyone else found to be a living nightmare because you just don’t mess with him since he has such a way with his words, you’ll find yourself questioning your intelligence.

Minho can either be the best person you’ll ever meet in your lifetime or as so he likes to claim, or he can be the person that makes your feet turn the other way whenever you hear his name. So you knew this weren’t going to turn out pretty when Minho was forced to be in a team with Hyunjin for game night and Hyunjin was losing every single point possible.

At first, him and the rest tried to play it off light heartedly, but you can feel the room growing sour each time Hyunjin missed the hints and was unable to score a point for this game of Charades that was suggested by the super innovative Chan, who decided that Hyunjin and Minho in the same team was evolution.

The others were having a blast poking fun at Hyunjin and Minho whose points were definitely not looking very nice until Minho out of a sudden, slapped the pile of papers onto the ground and said he’s had it.

“I don’t want to be in a team with him! He sucks!” Minho pointed fingers at Hyunjin who obviously took it personal by the look of his face.

The room silenced and everybody just stared until Chan spoke up, “Come on, just this once. You guys are never on the same team because you always want to change.”

“Yeah, because he sucks, can’t you see. Even a 5 year old kid would be able to score more points than him. We’re not even losing by a little. We’re unredeemable at this point,” Minho spit out without missing a single beat.

Everybody was growing uncomfortable, especially Hyunjin who had done his best to stay positive the whole time.

“Minho! Can you not. That’s incredibly rude. It’s just a game. Losing one night won’t kill you. How childish can you be.” You stared at your own boyfriend in disgust.

“Really now, you’re going to argue with me against this?” It was like he really couldn’t believe you were not on his side.

“So what if I am. You’re acting ridiculous and you deserve to know it.”

“Guys! Please stop. Don’t argue because of me please. He’s right. I wasn’t very good. Don’t be angry at him because of me, y/n. I’ll be fine. I’m going to go outside to get some fresh air, I’ll feel better once I come back.” Hyunjin excused himself and left.

You could only roll your eyes when Minho, being his stubborn self was refusing to go after Hyunjin and continued to stay in the same spot.

“How selfish can one be.” You criticized him before you followed after Hyunjin.

You had hoped Hyunjin didn’t think too much of it, knowing how Minho usually is. Being the sweetheart he is, he thanked you and told you not to worry. When you went back inside, the others notified you that Minho had already left and honestly, you could care less. He was being a d*ck and this time, you weren’t going to cave in. Only time would help kill that inflated ego of his.

About a week has passed and you still haven’t talked to Minho and vice versa. You knew that his diva ass would never give in, so you didn’t quite know why you were silently battling him when you’re pretty sure if you wanted to fix this, you’ll have to do it yourself. But you didn’t want to.

You’ve had enough of Minho always getting what he wants, always having the last say in anything, and thinking that you’ll always bend backward for him. It’s kind of funny because Hyunjin had actually told you that Minho already apologized, so why are you guys still fighting? Pride. Now it’s just a fight of pride. And as much as Minho has it, you have a lot of it as well.

It was the weekend, and usually you’ll spend your weekend with Minho doing whatever you guys usually do but since he wasn’t here anymore, you decided to just spend your day relaxing with a nice cup of tea watching Netflix. It was your day off work and you weren’t going to let this day go to waste.

You gently set your tea down on the little table to your right, about to lay against the couch when the corner of your eyes caught your screen lit up with a text message. You sat back up and struggled for about a couple seconds trying to reach your phone that you had placed a little too far.

It was from Minho. You couldn’t believe it. Reading what he sent you just made it even more amusing.

Stupid, are you going to apologize or not - Minho Lee

Why should I apologize. What the hell? I didn’t do shit - Y/n

Okay well I already said sorry to Hyunjin so I don’t know why you so pressed for. I didn’t do nun to you. I mean I know you kind of had a thing for him and all before we met but don’t take it out on me - Minho Lee

This little shit, you thought.

Bruh. I never liked him tf. I just think he’s very pretty. Prettier than me. And unlike someone, he actually has half a brain and some human decency - Y/n

Okay we get it, you have a crush on Hyunjin - Minho Lee

No, dumbass. The problem is you always going around saying, doing whatever you like without considering other people’s feelings. I know that’s your personality and all, but there’s a limit between what’s okay and what’s crossing the line, and whenever I try to tell you, you never listen. Always doing whatever you want. Hyunjin is one of your best friend and you hurt his feelings the other day and didn’t even feel bad about it until someone got in your face and told you you were being a d*ck. I love you, Minho. But I just wish you would listen sometimes and be open to I don’t know... improvements? - Y/n

I’m sorry, I’ve just grew up this way so it’s hard to get out of a pattern. Sometimes I say things I don’t mean and sometimes I say things I do mean and then I don’t realize that my actions has caused harm to the other person, because I’ve just always been this way you know. Others have tried telling me before but I've always brushed it off because I am a stubborn person. But I care about you. You’re one of the very first person other than the members that I deeply care about. So if you’re telling me this out of love then I’ll take it into consideration. I know I should’ve been nicer to Hyunjin as well. Chan yelled at me for a while the other day, so please don’t yell at me too :( - Minho Lee

Of course I care about you. Everything I do is out of love, dear. You’re one hell of a nuisance but I love you. I know you grew up this way and it is difficult getting out of a pattern, but take little steps. I’ll be here with you. and yeah, you totally deserved that from Chan. Jk I love you - Y/n

You’re mean :( can I come over. We were supposed to go shopping today - Minho Lee

Mhmmm. Let me think about it - Y/n

Well you have 2 seconds, because I’m already outside your door - Minho Lee

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Changbin

Changbin liked to brag about anything and everything, whether that’s how many confessions he got on Valentines, to how many people who wanted to be his partner when it came to a science project, or even the amount of girls that would hit on him daily.

You never really minded because that was just how he is. And of course, mainly because you knew all those scenarios only existed in his head and was as real as flying fairies and pink unicorns. So when someone was actually blatantly hitting on him, Changbin wasn’t as knowledgeable as his bluffs claimed to be.

Changbin was one of the best from his music class, so good that the professor made him the teacher’s assistant even when the semester was on going. He usually talk tales of how many students usually needs his help when it came to writing lyrics or composing as a beginner. Interesting enough, but nothing major as he’d like to phrase it.

Then every time when you guys would usually meet at the end of classes to which you usually ask how his day went, he started talking about this girl who he’s currently assisting. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a student from his class who he’s helping because that’s his job. Even the first two or three days of his on-going blabbering about this student didn’t kick something in you until maybe the fourth time this week where this girl is always managing to squeeze herself into his schedule everyday. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason it did.

Especially when he’d say alarming things like “Oh yeah and she also asked me if I wanted to get a drink after class but I told her I have plans.” or “She compliments me a lot and told me if I have time, she’d love to listen to my work.”

Maybe you’re overreacting and she’s just a really engaging and kind person. You felt bad at first for assuming such a thing about another human being, so you gave her the benefit of the doubt because you didn’t know your dumbass boyfriend would be this oblivious when someone is clearly trying to get inside his pant.

So when you happened to walk past the school garden the following week and saw the both of them from your very clear sight, you were a little more than dumbfounded. This girl was not even trying to hide it at all. You didn’t know how Changbin was keeping his eyes to himself at this point. The outfit she was wearing was definitely very sexy and appealing. Changbin was still faced down, scribbling something on the music sheet trying to get the female to engage but she clearly had something else in mind.

You could’ve sworn you saw her hand trailed alongside Changbin’s thigh and so you accidentally let out a shriek, but quickly hid behind the thick white pillar, grumpily dragging yourself back to class in anger after.

After your final class of the day, Changbin waited for you at the bench near the entrance where you guys had always met up. He beamed with ecstasy once he saw you, but you quickly brushed past him and continued walking completely shunning his existence. His smile progressed into a frown once he realized that you were not in your usual mood.

He ran in front of you and blocked any further movements.

“Y/n, are you okay?” He asked with a concerning expression.

You didn’t say anything and only continued scowling.

“Come on. You know you can tell me anything,” He encouraged.

You of course, continued to be silent for a few more seconds because you honestly couldn’t get anything out due to how enraged you were feeling on the inside.

“You liar!” you slapped his chest with literally no strength at all as your tears escaped at the same time.

“Wait hold up, what did I lie about?” He was in complete confusion.

“I saw it, Changbin. You and her at the garden. How could you let her make a move on you like that.”

His face showed that it wasn’t really clicking with him until he thought more about it.

“Who did I let make a move on me? Minji? I was only helping her, Y/n. Please don’t misunderstand. The class was getting really loud and we needed a quieter place, so I asked the instructor if it would be fine if me and her went somewhere else.”

“So you just let her be all up on you like that? She was clearly hitting on you, Changbin. How do you not see it?” School was no place to be emotional, but here you were, bawling like a little baby at the entrance of the school as Changbin tries to comfort you. You guys definitely weren’t getting weird stares. Nope.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you thought of it like that. Cause I didn’t. I just thought of her as another student that needed help. I’m sorry Y/n, if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t do it on purpose I swear, because in my mind, there’s no one else but you. I know I like to boast all the time but I only do it as a joke because you seem to like it. I would never in a million year think of hurting your feelings. Hundreds of other girls could give me attention or like me, but none of them matters if they’re not you. I only love you, Y/n.”

His words made you immediately stopped sobbing as if your broken heart has been patched up.

“R-really? You mean it?” You pout.

“Of course, silly. I would never think about being with someone else but you. Never.” He leveled your face with his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Just seeing another girl being intimate with you kind of tugged something in me.” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Aww. My baby was jealous. Not going to lie, you’re kind of cute when you’re upset,” He teased you.

“Changbin!” you slapped his shoulder in retaliation.

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

Hyunjin

Between the both of you guys, Hyunjin had always been the one who had the upper hand in almost everything when it came to catching others attention. Anything ranging from looks, to talent, or even intelligence, you can admit he’s got it better than you do.

Going out to public places, you quickly got used to getting stares from other girls or even old Aunties who would comment on how good looking your boyfriend was, and how lucky you were to have him. They weren’t wrong, you were of course very lucky to have someone like Hyunjin who was definitely way too good for you. You didn’t take it to heart very much that other girls have eyes for him the way you do, because he’s made it distinctly known that he only saw you. Jealousy in the relationship was a bigger problem for you than for him at the beginning, because compared to him, you were not as sought after.

The whole duration of your guys relationship, he never had to deal with any actual threat or competition that he could possibly lose you, or that you would find someone else more intriguing than him because he was always accustomed to you having your whole attention toward him whenever he was in the room. So that was why when the opportunity finally present itself, he found himself developing a sort of ill feeling that he wasn’t familiar with. A feeling that left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that turned his vision red when he wasn’t a violent person in the first place.

You had been talking about this friend all week, reminiscing the past to Hyunjin about all the crazy things you and this friend did back in the days. Hyunjin being the amazing boyfriend he usually is, was very supportive of course. You haven’t seen this friend in years ever since his family moved away to another city.

He called you a few days ago to let you know he’ll be back in Seoul, visiting for a few days and wanted to catch up. How could you let this chance pass by. The person that was there for you when you had your darker days, the person that ran miles through the rain when you needed him, there’s no way you would say no.

Hyunjin was more than happy to accompany you to the Mall although you did assure him he didn’t have to, as you didn’t want to bother him if he had plans, but he was persistent he wanted to meet your friend and get to know one another. Since he agreed to everything, you thought might as well introduce them to each other.

But Hyunjin’s cheerful and optimistic aura rapidly changed into a stinging one when your friend ran up to you with a hug, and oh boy did your friend looked nothing like Hyunjin had drew in his head. In his head, he was a she. The person that was arms deep within your hug didn’t have long flowing hair, nor did he looked very feminine like he had pictured. He was growing some kind of hatred for this stranger that he barely even knew, and it was only solidified more when you would get so engaged in conversation with your friend, you would forget for a moment Hyunjin was even there.

The way you laughed at his jokes mirrored how you would exactly react to Hyunjin’s whenever he said something funny. He hated how your friend would sometimes pull you so close to him and you would just go along with it. Hyunjin literally felt invisible. This friend of yours managed to shrink you and Hyunjin’s year long relationship into what felt like you both only knew each other for weeks. Hyunjin could tell just by his body languages and actions that this friend knew you for years. And then he just felt like nothing. Hyunjin was nothing compared to this friend of yours, and he was mad at himself, mad at you, mad at him, mad at everything.

He was so tangled up in his own train of thoughts that he hadn’t even realized you have been trying to call him.

“Hyunjin!” you pinched his arm not too hard.

“Oh I’m sorry, what.”

“Do you want ice cream?” You asked him.

“I’m good no thank you,” He answered completely uninterested.

“But you love ice cream, Hyunjin. Are you sure?” you tried to get a confirmation just one last time.

“Yes, I am sure.” He rolled his eyes as if he’s being pestered by an annoying bug. It wasn’t what he said but it was the way he said it. He was giving you attitude and you didn’t like it at all.

“Okay geez, just a no would’ve done.” you frowned.

Hyunjin has his days, but he’s usually self composed when it came to your friends. He had always been nice and pretty kind if someone was close to you since you were his girlfriend, but he was different today. He was hushed and soundless, not at all like the Hyunjin you knew.

“What flavor would you like, Y/n?” Sanghyun, your friend asked.

“Mhmm. Any flavor will do.”

“I’ll get mint for the both of us then, if that’s fine with you.” Sanghyun looked for an answer in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

You were not too cool with the flavor but you haven’t seen your friend in a while and it wouldn’t hurt to just take it this one time, for him. It didn’t bother you too much that he might’ve forgotten. It’s been a while.

Hyunjin was beyond confusion. For as long as he knew you, you hated mint. Absolutely refused to eat it whenever he took you out, and now all of a sudden you’re fine with it? For him?

“But I thought you hate mint. So what? You suddenly like it now because he suggested it?” Hyunjin fired, as if he was ridiculing you.

For a second you thought you forgot to clean your ears, because you refuse to acknowledge that Hyunjin was actually trying to cause a scene right now, in the mall, with your friend by your side, in front of all these people.

“What’s up with you today, Hyunjin. Giving me an attitude when I asked a simple question and now this? If you have a problem, you can tell me. No need to make a scene,” you scolded him, utterly embarrassed by your boyfriend’s action.

Sanghyun looked terrified down to his toes just glaring you guys down.

“Fine, I’ll tell you what my problem is.” And without your consent, Hyunjin somehow managed to drag you all the way to the parking lot against your protest.

“Let go, Hyunjin!” you threw his hold off of you.

“What the hell is your problem? You made me look like an absolutely fool back there. How do you think Sanghyun feels now, seeing how much of an asshat my boyfriend is acting after all those stories I told him about how you’re the most kind and caring person ever,” you raised your voice, too irritated at this point to even care if anyone heard you.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t be acting like this in the first place if you had made it clearer that your friend was a freaking guy.”

“Really, Hyunjin. Is this what it’s about? That my friend is a guy? That’s it? I’m sorry but, if you’re going to act childish and jealous because you can’t handle me being friends with the opposite gender, then that’s your problem. Not mine. Besides, we don’t even like each other like that. He was one of my only friend back when I had nobody. He was there for me when no one else was. I don’t see anything else in him but the same guy back then who was like a best friend to me.”

You had hope you knocked some sense into him. Your tone turning from furious to more serious.

“I don’t care if he was your friend from back then or whatever. You have me now. I don’t like the way he looks at you, or act around you. I never act like that around any other females.”

You were this close. This close to just straight punching him and running him over with his own car. The person you were talking to right now and yesterday was the difference between day and night. You think that might’ve been the shittiest thing Hyunjin has ever said since you’ve known him and you were denying it yourself that it came out of his mouth.

“Oh go cry me a river, Hyunjin! When I was telling you the details of my past friendship before you even knew the gender, you were rooting for me, but now that you know it’s a guy you’re all of a sudden acting like a little bitch? Why does it matter whether it’s a guy or a girl?” You questioned his integrity, but most of all, you were just in disbelief.

“Fine, whatever. Suit yourself.” He sarcastically threw his hands up in the air in defeat and drove away without final words from you. Unfuckingbelievable. He was like a little child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted.

You didn’t want to leave Sanghyun hanging, but if you were to be frank, Hyunjin totally killed all the good vibes within you and left you with no motivation or energy to do anything else. You made way back to the ice cream court and simply apologized to Sanghyun on yours and Hyunjin’s behalf. He didn’t mind too much and only wished you luck on the relationship. It was a bummer that he was leaving tomorrow already and the only day he was free to spend it with you, your man child “boyfriend” had to go and ruin it all.

When you entered the lonely atmosphere of your hollowed apartment, Hyunjin’s well being did crossed your mind because he was notorious for being quite stupid, always acting on his feelings whenever he was upset. You never had to worry too much before though because it was only on rare occasions where his head would be so far up his ass, but you knew this time was one of those occasion. But you were mad at him as well. Never in a million years could you picture him ever saying those nasty things.

You settled down on the couch and eventually put your mind and body to rest. Today’s been a long day and you needed that nap more than anything. You had called Jeongin and Chan to notify them of what happened and to keep an eye out for Hyunjin in case, before closing your eyes and seeing black.

When you were finally conscious enough, the only thing that made its existence clear, was the sound of traffic outside your window. You may have overslept just a tiny bit. Rubbing your eyes to get a better view of your surroundings, you felt a weight on you as you struggled to get up. Turning towards your left, you found Hyunjin completely knocked out and slouched against you with his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. Right, Hyunjin had a spare key to your apartment.

He looked like an absolute angel that fell from heaven, almost as great as the day he conquered your heart. He was adorable and quite resembles a puppy when he’s not spurting all those hateful words. You needed to use the restroom bad so you made an effort to untangle him off of you but just as you were about to get up, a strong force wrapped you back down.

“Ahhh! I thought you were asleep.” you faced him with bulging eyes.

“I was.” He calmly replied, his arms still around you.

“Bummer. I like it when you’re peaceful and not so angry. You are cuter that way,” you purposely jabbed.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wasn’t thinking at the moment and just acted on emotions. I’m really sorry y/n. I was angry when I drove off but when I got home, I just kept thinking and thinking and the more I thought, the stupider I realize I was... please forgive me.” he pouted and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Oh you big baby. Don’t try to bribe me with your cuteness now. You made Sanghyun scare of you and today was his only free day to catch up,” you scolded him as you pinched his cheeks.

“I won’t ever do that again, I swear. I’ll be better next time. I was just... jealous when I saw another guy acting close to you. It makes me scare that I’m going to lose you. I know I was wrong. But I just want you to know I’m sorry.” He said it softly but also with shame.

“Oh dear. There’s nobody else I love more than you. If anything, I should be the one scared to lose you.”

“I only love you, y/n.” He looked into your eyes and did that little smile that always makes your heart weak. The one where his dimples would pop out.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. Now let me go, I need to pee.”

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SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH HYUNJIN’S. anyways.

Part 2 for the remaining members coming soon

760 notes · View notes

elysianslove · 3 years

Text

when the stars align; oikawa tōru

requested by anon; ❝ hi bb :) can I request an Oikawa and reader story where they’re two petty/sarcastic best friends. Like they just have that understanding that their love is shown through petty comments or bickering lol but n e ways, the reader gets approached by a guy she doesn’t really like but isn’t thinking and says she’s seeing Oikawa and now they have to act like a couple but all they end up doing is bickering and Oikawa complaining. I hope that makes sense lol thxx <3 ❞

pairing; oikawa tōru x reader

warnings; it’s the fake dating trope with oikawa tōru. that is a warning in itself

note; i screamed when i found this in my inbox this trope has a special place in my heart and the fact that oikawa was requested??? pls don’t let this flop :(

━ you’re not sure why you said it. you rack your mind for an excuse: you’ve known him too long, you spend majority of your time with him, you had just been texting him a moment earlier — that must’ve been why you’d sprouted that ridiculous excuse to rid yourself of spewing out a futile, useless rejection. there’s an array of mixed emotions on you as you watch the boy before you shrivel in disappointment, sighing in frustration.

“i’m sorry, i’m dating oikawa right now, actually,” you had said, like the liar the same boy you refer to has coerced you into becoming to fuel your endless sneaking out.

the guy before you, honestly nameless due to both your carelessness towards him and your uncomfortableness around him, shoves his hands into his pockets cooly, attempting to shrug it off. “well, you know where to find me in case it doesn’t work out,” he jokes, and you have to fight off the urge to cringe directly in his face at his words.

instead, you lightly smile, more similar to a grimace, and nod politely, before turning and heading in the complete opposite direction, despite the other way having been your initial route. your shaky hands fumble for your phone, and you pull it out, unlocking it and tapping on the messages app.

i did something stupid, you type out, and you’re unsure whether you’re grateful or thrown off by how quick oikawa responds.

not surprising. what did u do

the familiarity of his tone only calms you slightly, and before you can talk yourself out of it, already having thrown yourself too deep when you’d thought up the lie, you explain the situation briefly. instead of a text message response, his caller id flashes across your screen, and your breath hitches. regret begins flooding you, and carefully, you slide to answer.

“i don’t want to hold your hand!” you complain, smacking at his palm when it reaches for yours.

oikawa sighs amusingly, grabbing your wrist anyways and linking your fingers together. against all odds, and to your disappointment, you shiver at the feel of his hand in yours. it’s considerably larger, and despite the fact that this is farthest from the first time you’ve gripped his hand, your insides twist. his fingers are slender, and his palm and the pads of his fingers are soft. for all the years you’ve known oikawa, his hands constantly run cold, and you’ve hated it for multiple reasons. one being the way it gave him an ego boost of ‘cold hands only mean i have a warm heart.’ the second being his infuriating actions of constantly pressing his palms to your skin, specifically the back of your neck. but most importantly, it signifies just how little oikawa tends to care for himself at times, the way his hands shake when it gets too cold, when the world grows too small, the tips of his fingers a bruised blue and purple. and you hate it. even more so, you hate how much you hate it.

despite all this, his hand feels — nice in yours; it’s a comfortable contrast to your own warm hand. still, your frown remains on your face as you see the school gates appear before two of you, never daring to reveal any of your thoughts to him.

“if you didn’t want to hold my hand, you would’ve thought up a better lie,” oikawa argues, and you turn your head to glare at him. he diffuses it easily when his thumb brushes against the back of your hand, your words faltering momentarily. “could’ve had anyone! iwa, mattsun, makki— i know they woulda loved to do this with you.”

“you’re insufferable,” you huff, but your cheeks are painting red, visibly too. he’s right, you realize. he’s terribly right.

“but you still chose me,” he teases.

your hand in his twists until you’re bending his wrist at an awkward, painful angle, until he’s pinching at your arm to force you away. he’s right, but that doesn’t make it mean anything.

by now, you’ve spent more time glaring at oikawa threateningly and in warning than you have your entire friendship with him, and it’s honestly starting to give you a headache. after admitting your situation to the three other third years, and giving them maximum fifteen minutes to laugh until they ran out of breath, iwaizumi included, spend the next twenty minutes huddled up next to oikawa, your chair attached to his.

the guy, who had been persistent enough in asking you out that you’d resorted to this, decided to spend his lunch break in the same area as the five of you, leaving you unable to push away and bicker with oikawa the same way you would any other day. you pick at your food as you avoid his gaze, oikawa’s arm around your shoulder heavy, leaving a trail of sparks up your spine and along your arms. it makes you want to scream, loudly too.

makki and mattsun have resorted to making fun of the guy, whispering between themselves, but it’s still awfully loud enough that there’s no possible way he can’t hear. iwaizumi and oikawa have their attention on each other, discussing some upcoming practice match in the weekend.

and all you’re left with are your thoughts, your nagging, unbearable thoughts, about how pretty oikawa’s hand looks as it hangs by your shoulder, brushing against your arm with every small shift of his body. with shameful, red cheeks, you shut your eyes in frustration, and allow the regret to boil and build in your stomach.

the weeks pass steadily. outside of school, your relationship with oikawa remains unchanged, and although he’s just as touchy as he is with you with an audience, the source of affection continues to be — simply friendship. and whenever you catch any disappointment building because of that, you pinch yourself in reminder than none of it is real. the way he always has an arm around you, the way he fumbles with your fingers, the way he ties your hair back for you while you work on an essay during your break, the way he kisses your cheek, a show of respect for your boundaries, but as a way to reinforce that you’re his in front of anyone, or the way he lets you lift one leg over his own, just because.

and you’re left wondering that if it were real, would it be the same?

he sits before you now, cross legged on your bed, back straightened and mouth stuffed with popcorn, completely engrossed in the movie before him with his eyes wide open. the three other boys are spread across the room: makki laying on his stomach, chin perched on his hands by the edge of the bed, while mattsun and iwaizumi share the couch, drinks in their hands, all three just as enamored by the movie as oikawa.

you had always been aware of just how pretty he is, and everyone around you has always ensured that you do. was it the way the light from the screen shone in his face, reflecting in his pretty brown eyes and shadowing some of his features? or was it the way he sat so comfortable in your bed, in nothing but sweatpants and a loose shirt because, of course, the four of them were bound to stay the night? was it the way his lips glistened with the water he gulped, or because of the way his tongue poked out to lick at the salt from the popcorn?

or was it nothing in particular, or everything all at once?

sighing lowly, you shift and sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the bedroom door. “i’m gonna grab some water; anyone want anything?” you announce.

none of them seem to hear you, too lost in the movie, but makki turns his head to the side slightly, eyes remaining on the screen, and replies, “no thank you.” it’s all you need to leave the room.

as you walk out, oikawa eyes you, then eyes the filled up water bottles next to where you had been sitting. his heart tightens in his chest.

two months into the fake relationship you’d established with oikawa, and it begins to feel natural. it no longer feels off putting to walk hand in hand with him to school, or to greet him with a grandiose hug and a kiss on the cheek, or to wear his jersey to games and cheer for him from the stands, or to constantly have his ankle looped with yours beneath the table where, despite this all being for show, nobody can really see.

outside of your fake relationship traditions are your friendship traditions, which include, but are not limited to, him walking you home. it’s always been mostly because your mother adores him, or because he prefers the food that’s at your home as opposed to his, or because your home is on the way to his anyways, but it’s a lot closer, so he always ends up staying longer than anticipated.

either way, it’s not unusual that he walks by your side as the moon illuminates your path. it is, however, not very like him to stay quiet the entire way. you can see the roof of your home growing in size as you near it, and he’s yet to say a word to you. it both weirds you out and worries you, and before you can convince yourself you were overreacting, you pause in your step, the gravel beneath you scratching and crunching as you turn to face him.

“alright, spit it out.”

his eyes meet yours, wide and confused. “what?”

you sigh. “something’s up, and you’re either gonna tell me now or i’ll force it out of you later,” you reply.

“i’m not—”

“oikawa.”

“stop it, i’m fine—“

“tōru.”

“i can’t do this anymore.”

your heart stills, and almost as if in understanding, in pity, so does the world around you. the wind no longer howls in agony, respecting your need for silence as the trees around you look on curiously. your brain processes a little slower than your mouth, and you’re asking him, “what are you talking about?” before you could think.

his gaze falls from yours again, and he takes a step back. “i can’t be with you anymore. or — fake being with you anymore,” he admits to you.

you’re not sure why, but you had imagined this scenario to be a lot less earth shattering than it is. maybe you’d grown to like faking it, because it slowly started to become the closest you could get to experiencing it realistically. you refuse to speak, and it isn’t because you’re angry at him. it’s because you genuinely are lost for words. it’s not even a real break up, but it still hurts just as bad, if not worse. it’s your own fault for believing that this, whatever this was, was as simple as it seemed.

“not unless— not unless i can really be with you.”

what?

“what?”

he breathes in steadily, and moves forward, closer, closer, closer to you. his hands rise to your cheeks, cupping them softly, flinching when your breath hitches. but you make no move to push him away, only stare up at him, in wonder, in confusion. he opens his mouth, preparing himself to speak. you expect a monologue, a speech, a declaration of his undying love for you, because it sounds just as dramatic as oikawa is. the moon above you holds its breath, waiting for the band to snap, for the words to spill and drown you.

but then he kisses you.

his hands urge you up and he meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours. they’re soft, and he tastes like cherry, and it’s probably your chapstick if you were being honest with yourself. his mouth moves languidly against yours, as if he’s trying to drag out every moment, as if he wants to purposefully slow down time, begging and pleading for the world around him to stop. the kiss is sweet, gentle, and somehow, kissing him is exactly the way you’d imagined it would. it’s breathtaking, and dizzying, and overwhelming, and needy and it’s beautiful.

when he pulls back, he doesn’t let go of you. his hands remain cupping your jaw, his mouth hovering over yours. his thumb brushes along your cheek momentarily as he gazes at you, admiring you, as if memorizing every inch and every detail of your features.

“tōru, you idiot,” you sigh. the insult isn’t foreign to him, not even on your tongue, but he still looks taken aback, and even more so when you reach up and close the distance between you again. the world lives again, the moon celebrating within the clouds, the wind twisting in your hair, whispering and whistling cheerfully by your ear as the trees dance.

it all comes together, and the stars finally align.

end note; i’m so happy with this!!! i hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it!!! <3

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa fluff #fake dating trope #haikyuu fake dating trope #oikawa tōru x reader

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

Humph!!

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut, minimal amount of angst (if you squint), fluff (happy happy ending!); non idol au, enemies to lovers, college au

Warning: Mature content! (DNI if you are uncomfortable or UNDERAGED); language, name calling, reader is kind of a jerk, erotic asphyxiation, use of pets names, hint of degrading, praise kink (implied), fingering (f), oral (f&m), PIV, unprotected sex (be careful with this!), unintended voyeurism (Chan and Jisung accidentally hears reader and Changbin getting it on)

Seo Changbin.

Or as you like to call him, the bane of your existence. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself the ‘petty type’ but how could you ever forget about the boy who pulled on your hair and cut in front of you during lunch time, only to get the last middle piece of pizza- a slice that was supposed to be yours, in middle school? And yes, while it is something so small, so trivial, that you should’ve easily forgotten all about it, you just couldn’t for he just seemed to pop up around you every. single. day. Oh, the list of ways he picked on you could go on and on. It was like whenever he saw you, he just had to push your buttons as if it’s his little demented mission to irk you for the rest of your life.

No one has ever made your blood boil more than he has. It makes your blood boil even more when you, yourself, couldn’t even deny the fact that the once scrawny, immature boy turned to the hottest, most muscular (and fuckable) man you’ve ever seen. Now here you are, as college juniors, and you two are still going at each other’s throats. And of course, no matter how older you get, the two of you will always find time to bicker with each other for the littlest things

“WHAT KIND OF AN IDIOT ARE YOU?” you yell, looking at Changbin in disgust. “WHAT NORMAL HUMAN BEING DOES THAT?!”

He rolls his eyes at you, clicking his tongue, “Well, excuse me for having COLD FEET. SO WHAT YOU THINK ITS WEIRD? I GET COLD EASILY AT NIGHT SO LET ME WEAR MY SOCKS TO SLEEP IN PEACE, WOMAN!” Changbin yells back, glaring at you.

Ahh, yes. Today’s fight is now on whether or not wearing socks to bed is considered ‘abnormal’. Cause what else could you argue about?

“BUT…It’s so WEIRD! Can’t you, like, invest in some thicker blankets instead? There are better options than wearing SOCKS IN BED.”

“WHAT? IS IT A CRIME TO WEAR SOCKS TO-”

Jisung interrupts Changbin by slamming one of his hands down onto the table. “God… SHUT UP! CAN YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALREADY?!” he moans in irritation. Chan lightly shoves Jisung in retaliation, scolding him for being too loud. Jisung looks at him and pouts, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. Chan sighs, finally looking at your startled faces .

“He’s kinda right though,” he says, calmly, “not exactly about the, uhm, having sex part, though the sexual tension between you two is nauseating. But I mean about getting along with each other and finally putting an end to this ‘rivalry’.”

You and Changbin glance at each other for a brief second before scoffing. “Please. Hell would freeze over before we do,” you sneer, side eyeing him.

“I’d rather kiss an electric eel than make up with that snake of a woman,” Changbin mumbles, looking away from you.

“How about I arrange that for you?” you smile, using the fakest sweet voice you could muster. Changbin turns to you with a scoff.

“You are such a-”

“Enough!” Chan says with a stern tone he almost never uses. The look Chan was giving you both was enough to shut you up and intimidate you; hell even Jisung was scared! “Either make up on your own by the end of the month, or else. Understand?”

Both you and Changbin sigh in irritation before agreeing. “Yes…”

“I mean it! Y/n, Changbin! This is getting ridiculous now. Honestly, you guys are full grown adults but you act like children, and not the good ones! Think of the other people you’re affecting with your behaviors.”

Silence fell upon your whole table. You could only nod your head shamefully at Chan’s words, while Changbin clicks his tongue but not say anything else. Jisung looks around the table, the uncomfortable silence making the poor boy feel antsy.

“Good,” Chan leans back, his cheerful demeanor coming back, “One month, that’s it. And play nice!”

“This is stupid,” Changbin groans, leaning back on his chair. You roll your eyes at him.

“Shut it. Remember, this is for the sake of our friends.”

Ever since that day- the day Chan scared the shit out of you both- you and Changbin made an agreement to try and be civil around one another. It wasn’t very nice, but you both knew Chan was right. You didn’t want to lose your friends because of some stupid rivalry that started 9 years ago. To fix your problem, the two of you, begrudgingly, decided to hangout with each other for the next month. Today marks your one week anniversary of your treaty.

Needless to say…you both hate it.

“If we have to hangout, can we not spend our time in a library?” the short man complains, looking at you with his sharp eyes.

“Well, sorry, but I have a chemistry test in a few days and I’m sure as hell not failing that. You know Science isn’t my best subject.”

Changbin groans, sliding down his chair. “Whatever.” he mutters distastefully. You shook your head.

“Don’t you need to study for anything too?” you asked, not even sparing him a glance.

“No. I’m done with all the tests I have to do and none of my other teachers prepped us for another one. So I’m basically free, doll.”

You cringe at Changbin calling you ‘doll’, hating how that simple pet name sent a delighted shiver down your back. You scoff.

“Disgusting,” you grimace, “Never call me that again.”

Changbin smirks, now sitting up on his chair to lean closer to you. “Whatever you say, doll.”

You look up at him with a nasty glare, resisting the urge to yell at him. “You are so lucky we’re in a library.” He laughs sardonically at you. You huff, standing up to look for a chemistry book. Changbin looks at you questioningly.

“Where’re you going?”

“Looking for more books.”

He sighs, starting to stand up as well. “No,” you stop him, “By myself.” He put his hands up, slowing sitting back down. You turn around and walk to the aisle containing the textbooks. After almost 10 minutes of searching, you still couldn’t find the book you were looking for.

“Damn, I was beginning to think you left me here by myself.”

You jolt at the sound of Changbin’s rough voice. You turn to see him leaning against the bookshelf.

“I’m not that much of a jerk,” you answer scornfully, going back to your search. You could hear Changbin’s heavy footsteps grow closer. You turn to see him standing right beside your crouching figure, looking down at you. The angle you’re seeing him in shouldn’t be making you think of such indecent thoughts. You snap your head back to the shelf as Changbin crouches with you, softly groaning as he goes down. You were trying your best not to make contact with him.

Changbin helps you look for a chemistry book, trying to be nice. You could feel yourself getting hotter at his courteousness. You really didn’t want to admit that Changbin was actually a decent person, so you couldn’t help but put up a front.

“I don’t need your help, you know?”

He sniggers, “I’m not trying to be nice. I just wanna get out of here faster.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not getting his joke. “Geez, then get away from me,” you raised your voice, still keeping the fact that you’re still in a library in mind. “I can do it myself.”

Changbin looks at you, a little shocked. He huffs, sticking his tongue against his cheek. “Honestly, you don’t have to be such an ass around me all time, you know?” he says, quietly. You stop your actions, feeling a little bad for snapping at him. “You said yourself, you want us to try getting along, why can’t you act like it?”

You bit your bottom lip, still not looking at him. “Simple. It’s cause I hate you,” you lied. He looked at you for a few seconds before standing up. You didn’t see the look of defeat on his face.

“You know,” Changbin says slowly, “I thought we could be friends. Deep down, I really thought we actually could.” You stayed quiet, looking down. “But now I know, you’re really just a stone-cold bitch.”

That. Now that lit a fire in you. You stand up abruptly with cold eyes. “Never call me that ever again.”

“What? A bitch?” He challenges, eyes equally as cold as yours. “See, here’s the thing; It’s true. I’m trying to be nice here and you’re just shutting down every single nice act I try to do for you. And what have you done for me? Drag me around like I’m some dog? You couldn’t even have the decency to even ask where I wanted to go.”

You could feel yourself get smaller and smaller with every step he took closer to you. For someone who was only 5’6”, damn did he look big. You bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your back hit the wall.

“What’s your problem with me, Y/n? I’ve seen the way you are with Jisung and Chan. I’ve seen the way you are with your other friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but ever since we started college, I’ve been trying to be nicer to you. But I guess it makes sense that someone as self-centered as you wouldn’t notice.”

You let out a sarcastic “ha”. You shake your head and stare into his eyes. “I told you. I. don’t. like. you. Do I need any more of a reason?”

“Yes. Yes, you do actually.”

“Hm. Find then. You’re annoying, you’re loud, you’re simple-minded, childish, irresponsible, you don’t take things seriously, you’re whiny, messy, irritatingly cocky and seeing your face is just so infuriated that it makes me nauseous,” you list. “Want more?”

The deadly look on his face simultaneously frightens and arouses you. The sarcastic smirk he gave you, though, was hotter. “Continue.”

“You’re nothing but a show off.” With those words, Changbin’s arrogant facade broke. “You act so cool and cocky when really you’re just average at best. Everything you do. Average. You don’t have much to show for. Nothing you do is worth being proud of.”

Changbin slams his hands onto the wall, making you gasp. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Take that back,” he snarls. If you thought he was intimidating before, boy were you wrong. But something in your touch starved mind made you more horny than frightened. Feeling bold, you tilt your chin up, maliciously. “Or what, Seo?”

All of a sudden, he wraps his veiny arm around your neck, choking you. It was so arousing and so sudden that you let out an embarrassingly whiny moan. “Oh?” Changbin raises a brow with a smirk. He tightens his grip on your neck, laughing cockily when you let out another whine. “Oh, I see now,” he whispers in your ear, “You act so high and mighty, always trying to take control of things, when really you’re just some sub in disguise. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You bit your lip, eyes tearing up in sexual frustration. You eyes roll back, biting your lip harder, when his grip on your throat tightens. “Aww~ how cute. You look so pathetic like this, baby,” he says, biting the shell of your ear. You arch your back at the stimulation, grinding your hips into his with a whimper. You were so glad that you were at the farthest corner of the library. Changbin moves away from you and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

He drags you back to your table and carelessly stuffs your belongings into your bag. He slings it over his should and harshly pulls you out of the library. His apartment wasn’t that far from the library so the two of you didn’t bother picking up a cab. The walking distance between the library and his house was only about 10 minutes or less, but to you guys, it felt like hours.

Changbin fumbles with his keys, wanting to unlock the door faster. When he succeeds, he pushes you inside, slamming and locking his door roughly. He throws your bag to the ground then proceeds to pull you into his room. He turns the knob and kicks his door open.

Once inside, he pushes you onto his bed, hovering above you. The two of you were panting heavily from the tension. “Please tell me to stop,” he breathes shakily, staring at your lips, finally saying his first words since the library. “If you don’t want this, tell me to stop before I lose it.”

Did you really want this? Do you really want him? Or is it just your hormones talking? You contemplate, thinking back on all the years you’ve known him. Yeah, you thought that he was annoying when you were younger, wanting nothing more than to push him down a well. However, as you grew up, you started to notice how mature he has gotten throughout the years. He still does make fun of you, but it wasn’t as bad as before. He did treat you like an actual human being when he wasn’t irritating you. Especially recently. He really did treat you nicely but you were too prideful yourself to admit that.

Even up to now, you said some really hurtful things to him, and he was still making sure you were okay when he could’ve just lashed out on you and done whatever he wants. Changbin is genuinely a really nice guy and you were just too stuck up to see that. In that moment, you realize that you actually like Changbin, as in, have genuine feelings for him. Maybe even way longer than you realize but you were being stubborn to acknowledge it. Speaking of, you seem to realize that you were so lost in thought that Changbin took your silence as a ‘no’.

Just as he was about to remove himself from your body, you grab onto his shirt and push your lips onto his. He was taken aback. He was convinced that you truly didn’t like him but you seem to have proved him wrong. Before he could kiss you back, you parted away from him, leaning your forehead against him. “Make me yours, Bin,” you whisper.

Without any hesitation, Changbin kisses you with fervor. The kiss held so much passion, desperation, and desire that it made you moan. You wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his dark hair. Changbin groans, grinding his hips against yours. He pulls away to take off your shirt and start marking you up. You mewl, feeling him suck, lick, and kiss your neck.

One particular suck on the juncture of your neck made you moan out loud. He smiles against your skin, taking extra time on that area. You cry out, pulling on his hair to get his attention. “Changbin…” you say breathlessly. He looks up and nearly loses it on the spot. You laying underneath him, neck covered with sexy red marks that he created. You already look so dazed out that Changbin wonders how much more beautiful you will look when he actually fucks you.

He moves up to your face, stroking your hair. “What’s wrong, doll?” he questions you softly. You whimper as you roll your hips up to meet his. Changbin hisses at the feeling.

“Inside,” you whine, “Want you inside me, please.”

“Do you now?” Now his tone was condescending. You pout, nodding your head. “Cute. What makes you thing that I’d just give it to you after how much of a brat you were earlier?” You rub your thighs together, pouting.

Tears starts forming in your eyes. “Please? I’m sorry for being a brat. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Changbin chuckles darkly. “Oh, you will, doll,” he says, rubbing both your thighs. He glances up at you to read your expressions, only continuing when you gave him a confirming nod. He sits up and takes off your pants. He chuckles, licking his lips when he realizes that your bra and panties were a matching set. “How adorable.” he sings, making you flustered.

Changbin kisses your stomach before slipping his hand down your panties. You clench your thighs, trapping his hand, as he plays with your clit. He rubs slow circles on your clit, stroking your slit before sliding one finger inside you. You grab a fistful of his bed sheets, moaning. He lazily moves his finger in you, adding another one to fill you up a little more. You were already breathless. Your sweet moans filling up the entire room. Changbin starts to move his fingers faster, bending them, making you arch your back and whine louder.

You could already feel your high getting closer. You start squirming around in response. “Close, baby?” he asks, rhetorically. You nod your head frantically.

“Y-yes, fuck. Oh shi- yes.”

Changbin pumps his fingers faster for you, feeling yourself clenching tighter and tighter before you finally cum around them. He lets you ride out your high before slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to your lips, prying them open. “Open up, doll.” You let his fingers inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself, making the two of you groan. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, sliding down so his face meets your wet core.

You look down at him, questioningly. You were about to ask him what he was doing until he licks up your slit. Your eyes widened as you threw your head back, letting out a moan loud enough that it borderline sounded like a scream. His tongue explores your pussy, occasionally sucking on your clit as you pant.

“N-no,” you stammer, “that’s not-n-no. I-I’m still sensi-ah!” You grip his hair, not sure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. Changbin chuckles at this, the vibrations from it shooting up your core. Your sensitivity from your first orgasm brought you closer to your next release. You start bucking your hips, thighs closing in on his head as your core tightens. He grabs your thighs, prying them open. One last harsh suck on you clit made you cum again, this time on his tongue. Changbin licks up your slit, gathering up every single drop of your juices.

He sits up and smiles at you, his chin covered with your excess wetness. He rubs your thighs to calm you down. “You good, Y/n?” he worryingly asks, “Think you can handle one more?” You lazily nod your head, a little overwhelmed with the over sensitivity. Changbin wipes his mouth before crawling back to your face. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time with your lips to give you more time to calm down.

You hold onto his muscular biceps as he cups your face. You were still panting harshly even before he started making out with you. He peppers your face with gentle pecks, encouraging you to continue. “How ‘bout now? Can you handle one more orgasm, babe?”

This time, you could actually reply to him. “Y-yeah. ‘Think I can.” you said, quietly. Changbin smiles and gives you one more peck on your lips. He leans up and takes off his clothes. Even after two orgasms, you still felt needy for Changbin. Your eyes rake down his form, eyeing each one of his bulging muscles. Damn, no wonder why he’s always bragging about going to the gym everyday, cause he has every right to do so.

Now, if you thought his body was impressive, then his cock was another story. Your eyes widens, breath hitching when you see it. Holy shit, now I know why he’s so short, you thought. He has a monster cock that totally makes up for it. “Holy fuck-“ Changbin looks at you with a smirk.

“What’s wrong, doll? Bigger than you expected?” You nod dumbly, mouth ajar. Changbin could feel his ego skyrocketing. He pumps himself, throwing his head back in pleasure, finally feeling some kind of pleasure before lining himself to your hole. He adjusts his position, spreading your legs wider as well. “I’ll go as slowly as I can,” he mutters. You mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ as he starts pushing in.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes clenching as you try to take him in fully. Changbin moans rather loudly, your tightness a little too much for him. “W-wait. Fuck…” you call out with slight hiss. He stops his penetration, waiting for you to adjust. Your grip on his shoulders tightens, silently giving him the ok to move. He continues his advancement slowly until he bottoms out inside you. The both of you moan, giving each other time to relax.

Changbin leans down to kiss your cheek, whispering encouraging words to you. You stay in your positions for almost a minute before pleading for Changbin to move. At first, his thrusts were slow, testing out how well you could take him in for now. You moan softly, the way his hips move softly is already shooting bursts of pleasure throughout your body. Gradually, he picks up his pace, his once slow, loving thrusts are now hungry, desperate ones.

His hands were now on the back of your thighs, folding you in half. The new position allows him to reach deeper inside you. “B-bin,” you whine, clawing at his back, “hmm…fuck. M-more. Fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You really think your pretty little pussy can handle my cock, doll?”

“Yes! P-please g-give me more. I can handle i-it!”

Changbin laughs at your desperation, picking up his pace. You moan louder, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Changbin’s soft moans and growls and your own whiny moans filled his bedroom. Neither of you knew who would break first, both of your releases nearing. The tip of his cock starts hitting right on your sweet spot, making you scream. He throws his head back with a loud, raspy moan when he feels you tightening around him.

“I’m s-so fucking close, Bin,” you cry, “Don’t s-stop!”

“My, what a desperate slut you are.”

He bites his lip, hips moving harder and deeper, as he leans closer to kiss you. Remembering the scene from the library, Changbin’s right hand snakes around your neck, firmly but gently choking you.You let yourself enjoy the feeling of him blocking your airways, closing your eyes in pleasure. You whine loudly when he slips his tongue in your mouth. You let him explore your wet cavern, loving the feeling. Your eyes shot open when you felt his thumb playing with your clit.

“Sh-shit! Changbin!” You moan, arching your back. You could feel the beginnings of your release.

“C’mon,beautiful,” Changbin whispers, “Cum for me.” His words seem to have triggered your orgasm. Your body went stiff, cumming around his cock, mumbling a bunch of expletives. You start trembling, the feeling of your orgasm was too intense. Changbin hisses, pulling himself out of you when he felt his own release nearing.

He pulls you up, pushing your head close to his throbbing dick. Getting the memo, you lean down and take him into your mouth. You bob your head up and down as you pump the rest of his cock. Changbin moans, his rough hand in your hair. He starts rocking his hips, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. One harsh tug on your scalp made you moan, the vibrations sends waves of pleasure down his cock making him throw his head back yet again.

“What a dirty little girl,” he pants heavily. “Love my cock that much, huh, doll?” Tears pool your eyes as you try humming in agreement. The second round of vibrations sent Changbin over the edge. Hot spurts of cum shoots down your throat. He holds your head in place until he finishes cumming. “That’s it, beautiful. Swallow it all. Don’t let anything go to waste.”

He lets go of your head and gently pushes you down his bed. He cups your cheek, rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. Changbin reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, throwing it down onto his floor and rubbing at your breast to soothe you, only letting go of them when you let out an uncomfortable whine. He moves up to your face and kisses you softly.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he questions you. You nod, too fucked out to respond verbally. Changbin giggles, moving to lay beside you and petting your hair as you calm yourself. You turn your body to hug his, slightly catching him off guard. He immediately relaxes, however, and continues stroking your hair. The two of you lay comfortably until Changbin broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, quietly. You note the tone of uncertainty in his words. Your eyes meet his in question.

“Mean what?” you slur, still having a bit of trouble talking.

“Did you mean what you said in the library? Do you really hate me? Was this just a…one time thing?”

You look at him sadly, his expression matching yours. He didn’t want this to be just a one night stand. He genuinely wants to be friends with you. Scratch that, he wants to be even more than that. You nibble on your lips, shaking your head.

“No…I don’t actually hate you…Yeah, you piss me off a lot but…I can’t actually hate you,” you say, moving your hands to cup his face. You could feel Changbin leaning into your touch. “Honestly, I don’t even remember when I started liking you. I guess I only just realized it now when you pushed me onto your bed.”

Changbin moves away from you in shock. “You…like me?” You timidly nod your head, a little embarrassed now. He lets out the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him and kisses you. This time, this kiss was soft, filled with so much love and unsaid feelings. You giggle into the kiss, holding his face. Changbin pulls away from you and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes twinkling in joy. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

You smile, moving to peck his lips. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, “For everything I said. It was uncalled for and kinda mean. Scratch that, I really was a fucking bitch to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Changbin hums, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I get why you said all that. I mean, this whole rivalry started ‘cause of me, so this was kinda my fault to begin with.”

“No, it’s not. We both brought this upon ourselves, Bin, so we’re both at fault.”

“I guess…Let’s just start over?”

You contemplate. “I think,” you start cautiously, “It’s better if we don’t.”

“Huh?” Changbin was confused. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to forget about our past and pretend our years of bickering never happened. We already fell for each other’s bad qualities, so why should we, you know? There’s nothing for us to hide at this point.”

Changbin had a look of realization on his face, drawing out a long ‘ah’. “I like that,” he laughs. “You’re right. Let’s do that!” He pulls you closer to his broad chest, kissing the top of your head. He hugs your form tighter, as if he was afraid that this was a dream. “Oh yeah, what’re we gonna tell Chan and Jisung when we show up together all lovey-dovey?” he wonders out loud.

“No need to tell us anything!” a voice sounding a lot like Jisung’s calls out from the other side of Changbin’s door. “We’ve been home for 15 minutes now. We heard almost everything! Chill out goddamnit!” You both could hear Chan in the distance, yelling at Jisung for saying that while he goes on about how you two “actually did it, they finally got laid!”.

“Oh my god…” you groan in mortification while Changbin drowns with laughter. You hide your face on Changbin’s chest, feeling it shake from his laughs. “Looks like we got that down!” he jokes. You slap his chest with a whine.

Yup. Today now marks the end of the Seo-L/n war, and damn were you glad it did.

~End~

A/n: hi. if you didn’t know, this is actually a repost yay :) cause after all this time, this fic still hasn’t shown up in the tags cause t*mblr is a little bi-

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #seo changbin smut #seo changbin imagines #shame cause i was actually proud of this fic 🥲

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seyaryminamoto · 3 years

Note

I'm just thinking about what you've said in the past about Zuko's morals in The Southern Raiders and what bugs me the most is that Zuko could have easily been Yon Rha. Yon Rha's big sin, as far as Zuko knows when he makes his proposal (before Katara tells him the whole story), was raiding the Southern Water Tribe in a manner which lead to someone's death, and Zuko raided both Kyoshi Island and the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko would be an acceptable target for vengeance under his own standards.

:'D very fair point of view, Anon. I've always focused on another angle with this particular problem, namely the fact that Zuko's traumatic Agni Kai happens because he was trying to defend soldiers from being used as bait, slain in battle as though their lives were meaningless... and then he's offering Katara his assistance with killing a soldier if that's the only way to become her friend. There's such a profound incompatibility between both ideas, such a massive rift in reasoning, that I can't help but wonder if Ozai, intentionally or not, actually taught Zuko through their Agni Kai that the lives of their people aren't worth anything after all.

In general, that episode's plot is just... very questionable. I understand these kids are jaded, they've seen pleeenty of ugly stuff and even done some ugly stuff themselves, but the core of the problem with Zuko, back in the day, was that his violent pursuit of the Avatar caused lots of trouble and nobody liked him because he was being a selfish ass who wanted to fulfill the Fire Lord's orders at all costs :'D so... as blind as Katara may be over anything to do with Kya, it baffles me that neither Sokka nor Aang would step up to tell Zuko that this sort of ridiculous reasoning, impulsive behavior and willingness to resort to violence is EXACTLY what made him an asshole during the months he chased them, and that changing sides without changing those violent impulses doesn't amount to jackshit. I'd honestly prefer it if Katara were the one to tell him as much, because then she'd have the bonus of telling Zuko: "That's funny, because this sort of BS is precisely why I can't trust you!" and Zuko would be at an even bigger loss than before :'D but of course, when emotions are involved, Katara loses sight of reality and common sense, it's true...

Looking at it the way you do, just imagine if Yon Rha had told Katara "Oh. Sorry. Nice to see you again!" the way Zuko does with Suki :'D I'm pretty sure she would've actually killed the guy without even hesitating.

It's not to say that Zuko has objectively murdered anyone with the particular cruelty Yon Rha killed Kya: as far as we know, he didn't. We do know, however, that he's imprisoned people in nightmarish conditions (something even his sister cannot be said to have done), as he does in LOK, conditions bad enough that one of those prisoners (who, arguably, wasn't in the worst of conditions) said he'd rather die than return to that imprisonment. So, however "deserved" the Red Lotus's imprisonment might have been, dehydrating a waterbender and freezing a firebender for well over a decade sounds like one hell of an act of cruelty, which says he's perfectly capable of cruelty, all the same as Yon Rha was, and Zuko can't even say he's following someone's orders: he's the one who chooses to do this, plain and simple. So cruelty is NOT beyond Zuko. He can be harsh and nasty whenever it suits him. Despite what he'd have the audience believe, he isn't truly the poster child of peace and kindness :')

As you've said, Zuko caused lots of damage with his careless actions back in Book 1, actions that could have certainly cost lives if this show had been written to be grittier and darker than it was.

As a careless, casual example, here's the typical, boring old trope of "there's a kid in danger and the hero swoops in to save them!" (and there's poor Sokka on the background too ;_;). That ship just comes into shore, breaks all the ice it cares to, and it could have cost at least the two lives of those in the scene here (and who knows how many more that we aren't seeing). Is this not the same as attacking someone deliberately, with killer intent? Sure, it's not, but the ultimate outcome would be the same: someone's died, and it's your fault. And if you're a good person, you would feel bad about it. In fact, you might not even be able to think of yourself as a good person if anyone's death can be pinned on you.

Again, we don't know for sure that his actions cost any lives, but that they could have speaks for itself. That he was once part of the Fire Nation killer machine, that he was a tool to his father (even if not one he particularly cared for), should have made him all the more willing to understand that soldiers are as brainwashed as he was. No, this isn't to defend Yon Rha by any means, he was indeed a piece of shit... but Zuko doesn't even wait to meet him to confirm this. He's ready to help Katara kill a guy who, for all he knows, could have spent his whole life repenting for his actions (yes, we know that's not the case, but if the show had wanted to give us more nuance in the Fire Nation army, it could have been). Zuko doesn't even hesitate, and he even eggs on Katara until she finally decides she's not going to do it -- then he proceeds to badger Aang non-stop about how he MUST kill Ozai, funny how that goes. Which allows the interpretation that Zuko didn't learn anything at all from the Southern Raiders adventure.

In the end, if Zuko's actions cost any lives whatsoever (like, I don't know, maybe lives of the people whose food he stole in the Earth Kingdom (: what, me still being salty about this in the year of 2021? Noooo waaaaay...), you're quite right to say that it'd be fine, as far as his own philosophies are concerned, for Zuko to be executed by the injured party. It'd only be fair, right? Yet I guess that's the beauty of Zuko being Zuko: fairness isn't part of it. Justice? I don't think he's actually familiar with the concept. His sister made lots of mistakes, same as he did, but has he attempted to help her find her way, same as he was helped? Has he given her another chance? The answer is nope. Chit Sang is a convicted murderer who claims he didn't do the crime he was put in jail for: Zuko doesn't even bother asking any questions about who he is, or trying to get to the bottom of this problem. He's fine with getting the guy out of prison without first confirming whether his story checks out or not. Even back in The Blue Spirit, when he was "under" Ozai's thumb, and Ozai's priorities should have been his own, he decides that it's more important for him to capture Aang himself, and somehow the show spins that situation into "hey, Zuko's not that bad :>" when... everyone knows he's not setting him free out of any selflessness on his part, in fact, it's the entire opposite.

So yeah, more sketchy Zuko things that remain unresolved, unaddressed and go ignored all the time. Again, things that don't make much sense with the character he's supposed to be. And as usual, it's stuff we're supposed to shrug off or make a thousand excuses for in order to always find a way to see Zuko as a perfectly good person, when, as I've said before, being good takes efforts Zuko often didn't bother making, not before his "change of heart", not afterwards either.

#anon #welp I guess my Zuko posts have been doin' the rounds #:'D #and no they never are about the things I like about him #... which...#... do I like anything about him?#O_O #well that answers that LOL

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years

Note

Companions seeing soles baby for the first time? (Dont specify the name or gender though please, also could add a bonus for maxson-)

Okay... So I might have been slightly self-indulgent with the Piper one at first since I've got such a soft spot for my favorite nosy reporter. But I tried to balance it out so now y'all maybe won't notice so much! 😅

As for the Maxson bonus, I'm not too familiar with his character, but I tried! In my playthroughs, I've only ever sided with the Minutemen and the Railroad, and the most affection I've felt for the Brotherhood comes in the form of Danse. However, I am starting another playthrough, so I might go Brotherhood this time. I did the best I could, y'all. 👍

I hope you enjoy! 🥰💙💛

Cait - Does not even know how to act. When she comes through the door, her eyes locked on the bundle in F!Sole's arms, she trips over the doorway and immediately curses. However, she swiftly apologizes as if the child can understand the words. F!Sole just chuckles and pats the spot on the side of the bed, inviting Cait to come see the baby up close. Cait very slowly shuffles over and sits down, just staring at the baby. She wants to touch the baby, but she's scared to because what if she makes it cry and then she'll cry and then it'll be a mess and then--- And then F!Sole asks her if she wants to hold the baby. She very hesitantly nods just barely, almost a reflex reaction, and F!Sole hands it to her. She hold it very stiffly, but as securely as she can, just looking down at its sweet, little face. She will protect this thing with her very life.

Piper - Is absolutely in love with the baby as soon as she sees it and she carefully sits on the bed next to F!Sole, just grinning like an idiot as she looks at her best friend's child there before her. When F!Sole asks if she wants to hold it, she wholeheartedly agrees. She very carefully picks it up and holds it in her arms, just marveling at it as she gently touches its face. She wastes no time in telling it that it is definitely going to be just as awesome and full of trouble as its mama is. When F!Sole tells it that its aunt is way worse, she feels like her heart might burst at the very fact that her Blue just called her a member of her family. She's definitely going to be the best aunt that she can be and will undoubtedly spoil it absolutely rotten to the core.

Curie - Is overwhelmed with so, so many emotions the very moment that she lays eyes on the baby. She almost thinks that she will cry from the pure joy and adorableness before her. She hurried over before slowing down just as she gets to the bed. She reaches out before quickly looking at F!Sole in a silent question, and F!Sole nods happily, extending the bundle so that Curie can get a better look. Curie softly speaks to it, her eyes ridiculously huge as she gently pokes its cheeks. She giggles and sniffles, reaching up and wiping at her eyes as she looks down at the sweet baby. She cannot wait to help it get used to this wonderful, strange world.

MacCready - Just looks at it with a soft smile on his face and a few tears in his eyes. He is reminded of how beautiful Duncan was as a baby, and he is now lost in thoughts about two beautiful babies. When she asks if he wants to hold it, he happily accepts the offer and holds it carefully. He baby-talks to it a little, telling it just how adorable it is, and when it reaches up and touches his face, he freezes before smiling gently. He then hands it back to F!Sole only to see that she has a huge grin on her face. He chuckles awkwardly and scratches at the back of his neck, shrugging it off. He will definitely love introducing it to Duncan.

Deacon - Grins widely when he sees it and he pulls out a very small pair of sunglasses, offering them to F!Sole. She raises an eyebrow, somewhat confused and he explains that they're for the baby. She chuckles before balancing them carefully on the baby's face. Deacon laughs happily, and he tells the baby that he's going to be the cool uncle and they're going to be partners in spying. He knows that the baby is going to be an amazing spy and he cannot wait to teach it all of his moves.

Codsworth - Is overjoyed when he sees it and dotes upon it, speaking to it in cheery tones while trying to keep his voice a little quieter than it naturally tends to be. He fails somewhat at keeping himself quiet, but it is the thought that counts. He hovers around the bed, looking at the baby from all angles as he fusses over F!Sole and the child. He will do everything in his power to serve them both well for the rest of his days.

Hancock - Makes sure that he is completely free of any and all chems and is totally sober when he sees the child. He wants this moment in his mind to be clear as a bell. When he sees it, he knows that he is totally wrapped around its finger. And when F!Sole introduces him as Uncle John, he clings onto the name and owns it proudly, talking to the baby about everything that Uncle John is going to buy for it whenever he manages to pry himself away from it. Like Piper, he's going to spoil it rotten.

Danse - Just sort of stands in the doorway until F!Sole notices him and waves him over quickly. He ambles over carefully. As soon as he sees the baby, he is enamored and he just looks at it like it singlehandedly hung the moon despite the fact that it has only been in the world for thirty minutes or less. After a long moment, he quietly asks her if he can touch it, and she nods encouragingly. He gently reaches out, his huge fingers carefully brushing its face. When it grabs one of them, he thinks that he could die of pure happiness. Nothing will ever happen to it as long as he's around.

Preston - Smiles goofily when he sees it, removing his hat quickly so that he does not look so huge and intimidating when he comes over to take a closer look. He is just beaming as he looks down at it, and he tells F!Sole softly that it's going to make for an incredible General one day. He then proceeds to talk in a more baby-oriented tone as he tells it how cute it is and how it's going to be just like its mommy. Preston is so, so excited to see it grow up and to see the amazing things it will do.

Valentine - Is at first somewhat hesitant to come in. What if the baby is afraid of him? After all, he is a pretty ghastly sight. However, almost as if she sensed it, F!Sole asks someone to come get him and he has to come in whether he likes it or not. When he sees the little one, he feels a warmth bloom in his chest like no other and smiles a little as he approaches. F!Sole tells him to get over there and sit down with them. She then proceeds to introduce the baby to its Grandpa Nick. He knows that if he was able, he would definitely be crying right about then, but he just smiles, albeit somewhat wobbly, and he tells the baby that how cute it is. He will forever treasure his new title.

X6-88 - Examines it carefully before declaring that he expected it to more strongly resemble its older brother. F!Sole seems crestfallen as a result, and something strange makes him feel inclined to say something else. He adds that it is not a bad thing and that it will likely be as brilliant as its older brother. F!Sole seems somehow more sad and happier at that response, so he simply remains quiet. Regardless of everything, he will keep a close watch over it for as long as he remains functional.

Dogmeat - Hops onto the bed beside her carefully, being sure not to step on F!Sole, and he stares at the baby with great interest. He moves a little closer and sniffs it. When it reaches its hand out and touches his nose, his tail wags unbelievably fast and he licks its hand gently. This is another person that he will protect and love forever.

Strong - Is strangely fascinated by it. He seems to have no desire to eat it, and he very carefully and hesitantly points at it before asking F!Sole if this is the baby she had in her stomach. When she tells him that it is indeed the one, he then asks if she went behind the tree and pooped it out. This makes her laugh entirely too hard.

BONUS:

Maxson - Is quite proud of his most trusted paladin for giving birth to such a beautiful baby. He is excited at the idea of the child growing up among the Brotherhood's ranks and he just sort of looks at it carefully and fondly as he stands near the bed. F!Sole asks him if he thinks it'll one day grow up to be a paladin as well, and he wholeheartedly assures her that he is one hundred percent certain. If the baby is anything like its mother, then it will definitely be a paladin at least by the age of eighteen.

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 2

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit in later chapters) Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of wounds, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining Summary: Chance brought you and the Mandalorian together on Nevarro. Now, on his ship, you have to broker a careful trust with him, despite both his and your instincts to distrust others. Notes: I’ll be loosely following the events of the first season and see what happens from there. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @red-leaders @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Before you could decide what to say to him, the Mandalorian rushed across the hull in two long strides and grabbed your shoulders forcefully, lifting you from your seated position and pushing you up against the wall. You exclaimed in surprise as a strong forearm came up to hold your chest in place, restricting the expansion of your lungs in a painful way. Your hands automatically scrabbled against his arms, trying to break his grip, but his hold was iron. He was leaning all his weight into you, crushing you into the wall, and even bracing your legs against his armored thighs didn’t budge him.

“Who sent you?” he yelled, his helmet inches from your face. The depth and rasp of his voice through the modulator made your stomach drop, and your fight instincts kicked into high gear.

Here’s the Mandalorian I was expecting.

Your upper arms were trapped against your sides, but you could lash out just enough to dig your fingers into his injured side, exploiting his weakness. He grunted and faltered, loosening his hold, and you took the chance to shove him off of you while pulling the long knife from your belt and whipping it up to his neck. At this same time, he recovered and yanked his blaster out of his holster to press the barrel into your stomach. His left hand had a vice-like hold on your bicep.

“No one! No one sent me!” you panted. Your right hand pressed your knife against the fabric at his throat, and your left gripped the back of his neck so he couldn’t move away from the blade. Your finger hovered over the activation switch on the hilt.

In this position, you had to tilt your head up to look into the t-shaped visor of his helmet. You tried to make out his eyes, but all you could see was your own reflection in the inky black surface. You were sweaty and out of breath. His breath was fast and loud through the modulator, chest heaving just inches from yours. This is not an opportune time to be turned on.

“Why were you following me this morning?” he demanded. So he had known.

“Why were you watching me in the cantina a few weeks ago?” you countered.

He tensed, surprised by the question, and cocked his head to the side, considering. “...You looked familiar,” he offered.

Maybe he really had recognized me from my bounty puck, like the bounty hunter in the alley today.

As you contemplated this possibility, the threat you each posed to the other became almost palpable.

He was worried that you were after him or the child—both of whom were clearly high-value targets. And if you had really run into him by chance and didn’t know that before, then you obviously knew how much they were both worth now. You could easily take advantage of that. You, on the other hand, suspected that he knew you yourself had a bounty on your head—and here you were, on his ship, mostly at his mercy. However, you’d say the stakes were higher for him. He had more than just himself to worry about. He clearly cared about whoever this child was.

“I wasn’t following you today. I wouldn’t have been so obvious if I was tracking you. Is that how you would follow a bounty? I was trying to talk to you,” you admitted.

He seemed unsure of whether or not he should believe you. His grip on your arm loosened almost imperceptibly. You reciprocated by easing the pressure of your hold on his neck.

Perhaps, the fact that you were both so vulnerable meant you could come to an understanding.

“Can we just talk? I’m not after you or the kid. I don’t even know why they’re after you. I saw you the other day in the cantina, and I was curious about why you were watching me, so I followed you to talk today. Then I got caught in the fray when I ran into you in the alley. That’s it. It sounds ridiculous, but that’s it. Let’s lower these and just talk.”

You hoped you could earn back the fragile trust you’d had between you just minutes ago on Nevarro, but you had no reason real reason to trust each other. It was clear that neither of you was used to trusting others.

Trust was a bad habit you’d had to unlearn to survive, and the same was true for bounty hunters. His was also a brutal, solitary profession.

But, there was also no explicit reason you had to be enemies.

He hesitated. “You first.” His voice rasped in the modulator.

You continued to hold him where he was, close to you, for another moment as you considered what to do. You didn’t want to hurt him, and it seemed like his instinct was to protect rather than attack.

You slowly released your grip on his neck and dropped your blade.

He lowered his blaster and replaced it in the holster at his side, still standing just inches from you. You knew that he was only open to this truce because there were several ways he could overpower you if he needed to. You hadn’t forgotten the fire that had erupted from his vambrace. He likely had a myriad of other deadly tricks up his sleeve—literally.

After a tense moment, you both stepped back.

“Why did you help me?” he asked.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Why did you help me?”

“I... don’t know. It made sense at the time.”

“Why’d you let me on your ship?”

“I wasn’t going to let them kill you,” he shrugged, like that was obvious.

“Well, I appreciate that,” you laughed. He cocked his head in surprise. The tension thawed slightly.

You sat down on opposite sides of the hull, a safe distance apart, watching each other warily.

“Are you Guild?”

“I’m not a hunter.” He seemed skeptical but didn’t press the issue.

You reached for your bag, and he tensed.

“Just getting water.” You yanked your water bottle out of your bag and drank.

He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “What weapons do you have?”

“Blaster, knife, spare blaster. Not quite the arsenal you have,” you motioned to where his weapons closet was partially open, displaying an impressive array of firearms, explosives, and knives.

He nodded and explained, “Weapons are part of my religion.”

“Right,” you muttered, not really sure what that meant. You met his visor briefly then looked away again. Having his attention trained solely on you felt like sitting under a spotlight. And it wasn’t just the threat of danger that made you squirm.

You flicked your eyes back up to him when he shifted. You followed his movements as he pulled the blaster from his holster and stood to put it on its hook in the closet, then did the same with his rifle and vibroblade. He clicked a button on the wall, and the weapons closet clanged shut. You were still acutely aware that his whole body was a weapon, so this gesture of peace was largely symbolic.

Nonetheless, you responded in kind by placing your large vibroblade and both your blasters on a crate out of your reach.

You sat in awkward silence for a moment. You weren’t really sure if these empty gestures meant anything real... or were just that—empty. How likely was it that you were going to progress from strangers to two people who actually trusted each other in the confines of this tiny ship within the span of minutes? Not very.

“I’m going to use the refresher,” you announced. He nodded.

His searing gaze followed you the short distance to the door, and you suddenly forgot what you usually did with your arms when you walked.

It was a relief to close the door behind you and be alone for a moment. When you washed your hands, you noted the generous amount of the Mandalorian’s blood drying on your fingers, smeared there from when you made contact with his blaster injury. From the looks of it, his injury was worse than yours.

You scrubbed your hands clean and leaned down to splash water on your face, wiping away the sweat and dirt on your brow. Then, you rested your palms on the edge of the sink and took a few steadying breaths, studying your face in the small mirror before you.

I’ve been in tighter spots than this.

And this time, like every one of those other times, you steeled yourself and concentrated on the next immediate step you could take to improve your situation. You let your anxiety fall away as you narrowed your focus to a tangible action: treating your thigh wound. If you let yourself consider more than that, spiral in uncertainty and linger on every unknown and variable in this situation, you’d feel overwhelmed.

One step at a time.

When you returned to the hull, you opened your bag to pull out your med pack, sat back on your crate, and got to work cleaning the graze wound through the hole the blaster shot had left in your pants.

The Mandalorian reached into a container and pulled out his own much larger med pack. With precise movements, he removed his cape, his bandolier, and the top half of his armor. He turned away to pull up his shirt and inspect his wound. He was careful to stay angled in a way so you couldn’t see any of his exposed skin—you weren’t sure if he didn’t want you to know the extent of his injury or if he wasn’t allowed to reveal any of his skin to you.

From the way he was contorting awkwardly, it was clear that he was struggling to reach the extent of the wound.

“Do you want help?” you offered, knowing he’d refuse. You felt compelled to try anyways.

He snapped his helmet up to look at you, like he was surprised you were there. You waited for his answer. Several moments delayed, he jerked his head slightly, like he’d rediscovered a lost train of thought, and muttered: “I’m fine.”

You shrugged and finished tending to your own wound. When you had finished tying a clean bandage around your thigh, you noticed he was squeezing a tiny amount of bacta from an almost empty tube.

“Do you need this?” You held your full tube out to him.

He looked up. Again, he seemed to have forgotten you were there, or perhaps, was so caught off guard by your question, that his answer came after a long stretch of silence. It seemed like a weird reaction to such benign questions.

“Thank you,” he replied, dropping his shirt to walk toward you.

He reached for the bacta, but instead of taking the tube, he grabbed your wrist, twisting it hard. You cried out in pain as the bacta clattered to the floor. His free hand whipped behind his back to grab a pair of cuffs from his belt. Despite your struggling and flailing, he wrenched your arm over and cuffed your hand to a rung of the ladder that was just a few inches to your left.

You kicked out a foot to trip him, but he evaded it. You reached for him with your unrestrained hand, but he jumped back.

Shit. You cursed yourself for placing your weapons out of reach. The small blade strapped to your ankle wouldn’t be of much help at the moment. You let out a frustrated huff of anger. You were better than this, smarter than this.

“I’m sorry. I have to,” he insisted. He started to pace back and forth.

“You really don’t,” you argued, as you slouched against the wall in defeat. He’d cuffed you part way up the ladder, so your arm stretched uncomfortably above your head when you sank to the floor. You rubbed your free hand over your face, thinking.

“I can’t risk it,” he continued, almost apologetic in tone. He seemed to be convincing himself as much as he was convincing you.

“What are you going to do with me?”

He tilted his helmet down at you: “Nothing?”

“I mean, what’s the long term plan here?”

“I’ll leave you somewhere nearby—you can choose the planet—but I need to sleep before I can do anything else. And well...” he gestured vaguely to you then to the compartment where the kid was sleeping.

You watched him resume his circuit of the tiny hull and weighed your options. There weren’t many, and the fact that he was so worried about what you’d do to him or to the kid made you feel less threatened by him. He was spending his time thinking about how you might hurt him, not about how he could take advantage of you. At least, you hoped that was the case.

“I understand,” you relented, letting out a heavy sigh. At least he didn’t freeze me in carbonite.

He froze midstride to stare down at you.

As annoyed as you were by the restraints, you couldn’t really blame him. Honestly, you’d do the same exact thing if you were in his position. You’d already started thinking about the safest way to get some sleep in his presence—your next clear course of action—knowing that your temporary truce was fragile.

He regarded you silently, as if waiting for the catch.

“You could have just asked. I probably would have tried to talk you out of it, but I really do get it. I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”

He stood, looking down at you, incredulous.

It was strange, but not unfamiliar, to have to read someone in full armor, to take all cues from body language and tone. And in the Mandalorian’s case, even his tone was somewhat obscured. You stared back up into his blank helmet but felt sure you were reading him pretty well.

You glanced up at the handcuffs and were comforted by the knowledge that you could pick the mechanism fairly easily with some combination of your small vibroblade, the bobby pin in your hair (which was only there for this express purpose), and—if it came to it—the underwire of your bra. You’d done it before.

He doesn’t need to know that.

It seemed like, as someone who regularly restrained people, he should assume you could pick locks, but you weren’t about to bring that to his attention. You were going to let him think you were completely at his mercy because clearly that’s what he needed to feel safe. Plus, you didn’t want him to resort to a more extreme means of restraining you.

“Could you at least cuff me to something so I can lie down?” You wiggled the arm that was stretched awkwardly over your head.

He tucked his thumbs into his belt and cocked his head as if trying to decide whether or not this was a trick. He sighed quietly though the modulator.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned, striding forward to unlock the cuffs. You held your hands up in surrender. He led you toward a spot along the wall where a pipe ran a few inches off the floor and gestured for you to sit by it.

When he leaned over your body to snap the cuffs to the pipe, you caught a glimpse of his neck, where a sliver of skin was exposed between his cowl and his helmet. His skin was golden brown—definitely not green like the child, definitely human. It was less than an inch of skin, but you couldn’t help but feel that you’d witnessed something scandalous or intimate, like you’d accidentally walked in on someone changing. You also couldn’t help but notice that he smelled good under the faint odor of metal and blaster residue.

He wasn’t rough when he secured your hand in the cuffs this time.

Walking around the hull, he collected a ration pack and a thick blanket from two different crates and grabbed your water bottle from where you’d left it by your bag. He tossed the items to you one at a time.

Thoughtful.

He picked up your bacta from where it had fallen to the floor and sat back down to finish tending to his own wound.

You pulled the blanket under you so you weren’t sitting on the cold, hard floor of the ship and leaned back against the wall.

You opened the ration pack, picking at the contents, and considered the man before you.

You had a million questions for him but somehow couldn’t think of one thing to say. Nothing seemed particularly pressing as the stress and exertion of the day were beginning to catch up with you. He wasn’t a particularly chatty guy and didn’t seem interested in conversation beyond determining whether or not you were trying to abduct his child—and the jury was clearly still out on that front as far as he was concerned.

Eventually, he finished treating his wound and replaced his upper armor. He disappeared into the refresher for a few minutes then returned to what you had assumed was a storage bay, where he had placed the child. After shifting the child gently, he climbed—in full armor—into the smallest, most ridiculous bunk you’d ever seen before closing the door and disappearing from view. Doesn’t he have a room?

You finished the ration pack, kicked off your boots, and curled up in the blanket to lie down. You were grateful that your physical exhaustion was absolute. Otherwise, you were sure your mental chatter would have kept you awake. You needed rest before you could decide your next move. Telling yourself that you’d just doze, not sleep deeply, your eyelids drifted shut almost unwillingly.

***

The next morning, you woke to the Mandalorian leaning over you to release your wrist from the cuffs. You started at his unexpected closeness, jerking back, and he looked down. Clearly, you’d fallen into a deep sleep for several hours. Whoops.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You still weren’t used to that rich, raspy voice. Does it ever not sound seductive? It didn’t help that you could smell him again when he was leaned over you like that. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to move away.

“That’s okay.”

He stood, clipping the cuffs to the back of his belt. You sat up, leaning against the wall, and rubbed your eyes.

He sat on a crate across from you, with the baby on his lap, feeding him little pieces of something gross looking. The kid was perched happily on his knee, wiggling his giant ears in satisfaction as he chewed and watching you with unguarded interest.

“Who is that?” you asked.

The baby was alert and cheery, periodically letting out joyful little chirps, a marked difference from their subdued temperament the night before.

“He was a bounty,” the Mandalorian stated simply, as if that explained the whole situation.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his non-answer and didn’t respond. Obviously, there was more to the story, but he didn’t want to share it. That was fine. You didn’t owe each other anything (except maybe your lives, but in that regard, you figured you were even).

You watched the Mandalorian. He was sweet with the child—patient, too—but awkward and unsure. You didn’t have all that much experience with children either, but you knew holding a baby out in front of you with straight arms, as you’d seen him do for a moment yesterday, was not normal. He seemed caring and invested but inexperienced.

How long has he had this baby?

“I think we can help each other.” The Mandalorian spoke slowly, interrupting your train of thought.

This development surprised you, especially considering he’d made you sleep cuffed to a pipe.

From the moment you set eyes on the armored warrior, you had expected him to be cold, withholding: a lone wolf. In some ways, he was—the armor alone was enough to make him seem hostile and untouchable—but in other ways... He was almost... kind? He’d protected you, a stranger, without hesitation. The fact that he was caring for a wanted child was another piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit.

“How’s that?” You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket in your hands.

You hadn’t had the chance to formulate a full plan for yourself, but you didn’t really need to. You’d do what you’d always done: disappear. You’d lay low for a few weeks, then return to one of the three places you had hidden supplies: namely, new identification and credits. And then you’d disappear again. Maybe change your hair. Find a temporary job somewhere. Same old routine.

“The same people are after both of us.”

You snapped your head up to look at him.

“They saw you holding the kid and board the Crest. They know you’re with me,” he continued.

The same set of questions played in your head: Did he recognize me as a bounty that day in the cantina? Or did he notice the moment when the bounty hunter had recognized me in the alley yesterday? Or does he really just think I’m caught up in this with him because of pure chance?

He took your silence as an invitation to proceed.

“I can drop you off on a nearby planet. We can go our separate ways, but I think they’ll be looking for you too. It might be best to stay together for the moment.” He spoke carefully, like he knew he was out on a limb, and he didn’t expect you to agree. This was the most you’d heard him say at once. When you really considered it, he was right. Based on they way the fight went down, with you and the Mandalorian protecting each other, everyone would conclude that you were a team. That’s how the word would spread. Hunters would come after you both. If they found you separately, they’d assumed you knew where the other one was.

Between bites, the kid let out the cutest, tiniest sneeze you’d ever heard. The Mandalorian wiped his nose gently with the edge of his cape, and the softness of the gesture made your heart squeeze. You looked away briefly to hide the smile on your face.

You turned back to him, expression neutral, meeting his inscrutable gaze once again. “We’d be harder to find if we went our separate ways. We could lead them in two different directions,” you reasoned, trying to parse out all the options.

“I... feel bad that they’d come after you for no other reason than you happened to run into me in an alley.”

Again, his thoughtfulness surprised you.

For now, it seems safe to assume he doesn’t know about my bounty.

And you weren’t ready to share that yet...even though you knew hiding it was unfair to him and to the child. They were both already at risk. If you decided to stay with him for the moment, you’d eventually need to admit that you were a liability all on your own.

Not yet though.

“What’s your plan?”

“Head somewhere deserted. Lay low for a couple weeks, then go from there.”

That’s what you would be doing alone anyways. He’d already proven his skill in battle. Would it be so bad to have someone looking out for you for once?

It would be a relief, if you were being totally honest with yourself.

“Okay,” you agreed hesitantly. “For now, this makes sense,” you gestured between you two.

He nodded once.

You posed the question that was plaguing you: “What made you change your mind about me? Why are you trusting me all of a sudden?”

“You stayed cuffed.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. Apparently, it had been a test, and you had passed. I guess he was being smart, not underestimating me.

He seemed satisfied to leave the conversation there, but your curiosity got the better of you. You took the chance to build on this blossoming trust.

“So, does the helmet stay on all the time?”

He met your gaze for a moment before looking down at the kid and saying, “No living being has seen my face since I was a child. This is the way.”

Well, that’s super sad.

You thought back to the exchange between him and that huge blue Mandalorian. They’d both said the same thing then too.

Mandalorians have a catchphrase?

You wondered what this helmet rule meant in practice: for instance, does that mean he could be helmetless around someone if they couldn’t see his face... Like, were blindfolds or very dark rooms on the table? And what about the rest of the armor? Can he take that off? How bad should I feel that I’d seen a sliver of his neck? You wanted to know the answers to all these questions but obviously couldn’t ask.

Instead, you nodded and said, “What’s your name?”

“Mando is fine.” Impersonal. Business-like. It’s what Karga had called him.

His proposal to stay together for the time being had felt like an opening, but clearly peeling away all his layers of metaphorical armor would take a long time. He was so guarded, but it seemed like he didn’t really want to be. You related to that on a deep level.

“Mando?” You voiced the question that had popped into your head when Karga called him Mando the first time: “Isn’t Mandalorian spelled m-a-n-d-A-l-o-r-i-a-n?”

“...yes?” he confirmed tentatively, unsure of your point. His hand, which was in the process of feeding the child another bite, paused midair as he watched you. The kid made impatient whiny sounds and reached for his hand.

“So shouldn’t your nickname be Mand-a?”

He scoffed, making a sound somewhere between amusement and annoyance, and resumed feeding the child, who let out a contented coo as he chewed.

There was an awkward beat of silence while you waited for him to ask for your name. When he asked, you’d share your fake name, as always.

He didn’t ask.

***

Chapter 3

#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #mature #the mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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