#you thought the composition was the problem. THE FUCKING COLORS.
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Octokuber, day 4 - Sentai
Now while Gaoranger is technically the first sentai I sat down and finished, Abaranger was my first actual exposure to sentai because of. Well. Dino Thunder.
I can't reasonably be unbiased to Abaranger because that's MY show. It's got dinosaurs, Masaaki Endoh, and friggin' (gestures wildly) ABAREKILLER. I think this show sparked my love for pointy guy armor.
#octokuber 2023#tokusatsu#super sentai#bakuryuu sentai abaranger#where are the character tags....#ryouga hakua#yukito sanjyou#ranru itsuki#THE WAY I STRUGGLED WITH COMPOSITION ON THIS ONE 🙃#YUKITO GET OFF THE GODDAMN FLOOR YOURE MAKING THE SHOT HARD TO FRAME#you thought the composition was the problem. THE FUCKING COLORS.#THE GODDAMN GLOWING MOUTHS (punches wall) IM GONNA HAVE MY OWN ABARE MODE#ranru your mouth is so silly ( . . )#i do love that everyone has little eyes on their heads but it made it very hard to take seriously#sentai suits are supposed to be easy why was this the hardest--- WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS GONNA GET HARDER
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This is so crazy to me because that is like the one place where you just objectively can't put ai. It wouldn't work. There's no way to make it work. Like fuck them for trying to put it anywhere in the pipeline at all but storyboards are the last place you would ever want it. I'm a firm believer that no matter where you put AI tech in art it's at best going to give you something mediocre and difficult to work with. It's just too much of a black box with too few direct controls. But there are some applications where I can at least see the argument. Background painting for animation is an amazing and complex art form but I can understand how you could use AI to get something mediocre but serviceable by generating a full render based on a sketch. Inbetweening is tedious and while I'm sure AI wouldn't hold a candle to a human for subtle acting I can see where someday you might be able to create a better version of auto-tweening that could handle more complex timing. Hell, clean up and coloring are both slow fiddly tedious processes that would make sense to cut corners on. Again I think cutting any of those jobs is a lazy and poorly thought out idea that you'd only pull if you're creatively bankrupt and only in it for the money but I can see how it would actually save money while still actually making something that resembles a show you could watch. But storyboarding is the one thing that this kind of statistical model will never be able to do. Statistical learning models cannot comprehend things, they don't know what a story is. They can't even tell a knock knock joke let alone a compelling story because they have no way of remembering the events that have happened in the story already or understanding that the pixels and words that they are assembling even relate to the concept of an event. They mash phrases and colors into something that vaguely resembles other stuff that they've been told contains keywords. That's it.
But you expect me to believe you're going to get one to understand enough film language to tell a compelling story over a thousand separate images while consistently keeping the characters believably in the same space and recognizable? And it's gonna do that faster than a person doing thirty second sketches? Nah. I don't buy it.
The amount of bullshit you have to do to convince the black box to put the correct character on the left side of the screen facing the right direction in one image would already be more work than doing rough thumbnails of the whole scene. There is so much specific problem solving that has to go into making a storyboard. We have a hundred years of highly specific cultural baggage that defines how we interpret films. No generative statistical training model will ever be able to do that because they are just not remotely capable of understanding what they're making. They aren't and can't be conscious entities with the ability to interpret meaning, no matter how many objects they can recognize or words they can predict would be likely to follow other words. At best you'll wind up with a jumble of blobs that vaguely resemble the compositions of other films thrown together in an order that makes no sense and some poor worker who you've demoted to a revisionist position will have to sort through them and try to turn them into something that makes any sense and it's going to be slower and worse than if you'd just paid someone to do it right the first time.
If this is true and there are executives who think this is going to happen, they're gonna have a bad wakeup call when they realize their expensive machines aren't capable of more than the visual equivalent of word salad.
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I started watching TW season one again (the only one I actually watched so far 😂) and once again I'm just amused by the plotholes and discrepancies and things they show or say once and never refer to or use again, as well as the technical side of camera shots and cgi - and I'm only in episode 5 so that's a record if you ask me.
(Nevermind that me picking at threads already started with eposiode 1 😂)
Disclaimer: As I said I've never watched that much of the actual series even if I steal the characters to write! Also I'm definitely biased due to the fandom, wiki entries I read and so on. So take all this with a grain of salt! It's mostly stuff I was amused by so if I have it wrong - well. I have it wrong, I guess.
Anyway. On to my observations:
(this got long, so I hid them under the readmore)
Sorry to all the people who like scott, but... he's so boring <.< WHY is that guy the main character? EVERYONE else would be more interesting just from a storytelling point of view! Give me Finnstock, Danny, the Sherrif, or any of the other main cast and just get rid of Scott as main POV <.< please.
It's so funny that they tried to make it some kind of horror tv show. I actually recognize classical horror movie scenes, camera shots that should invoke a certain fear or surprise but they somehow manage to put it in such a context that I laugh because I recognize what they want to do and it just doesn't work.
Might be a me-problem because I like watching horror films, but... it's still very sad.
Stiles says he once had a boa. I asked the internet and it told me boas in zoos can get about 28 years old... Stiles is 16.
Stiles... Stiles, what did you do with your boa?... STILES....
The scene where Stiles and Scott talk through video chat (and is that AOL? Those were AOL-icons... was AOL still alive in 2011? <.<) and Derek stands behind Scott... it's just... why did Scott stare at the screen instead of turning around? Nevermind that he read what Stiles was writing out loud and that Stiles's message was written in such large letters that probably anybody standing 5 miles away could have read it - nevermind the guy Stiles thought was standing behind Scott.
Also: why did Derek just... stand there. Especially once he was sure he'd been seen...?
I know that's also one of the Horror-esque scenes I mentioned but the timing of it all was so bad! (also also: Scott is just stupid <.<)
They use this weird alternative 'sight' for werewolves in the beginning (the scenes colored in red) and it feels like they use that in the first few episodes and never again after that <.<
Another weird scene:
The game where Scott wolfs out and Jackson stays back and finds Scott's glove with holes where Scotts claws came out.
I just... have so many questions...
1) Why did Jackson stay back after not only his own WINNING team but also the audience, the enemy team, coach finnstock and ANYONE ELSE who was probably assigned to clean up the field? He even was still in his own lacrosse gear so he stood back to take up a glove a person who'd cleaned up the field should have taken with them?...
2) Why the fuck was Derek staring at him? <.<... or rather, why was he staring at him for so long so Jackson even looked at him? Did Derek even see the whole game? Why did he let Jackson see him? It's not like he tried to scare him into staying silent, for that his staring wasn't nearly scary enough <.<... it's just... another weird composition. Especially since Jackson and Derek have nothing to do with each other <.<...
Scotts dream where he killed Allison in the bus that mimicked how Peter/the Alpha killed the bus driver.
Even though later it comes out that he was there and tried to keep the Alpha from killing the guy, this dream is just one instance where they try to 'show' Scott's 'connection' with the Alpha. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the connection he has with Peter is the one and only time we see such a connection between an Alpha and a Beta, I think. I mean the whole "I dream of things the Alpha did" and the whole not remembering/blacking out due to instincts and Alpha?
Also, Scott was apparently was hurt/slashed by the Alpha's claws. How come that wound was healed the next morning? I thought wounds caused by an Alpha heal slower? <.< or is that a fandom thing? <.<
I want to hug Derek. Hard.
Poor boy drives to a town he got traumatized in to help his sister/Alpha where she ALSO gets killed and all those stupid teenies do is blame him for her death, for their problems and for anything else the new Alpha did - especially the other killings - so he gets locked up by the Sherrif and when he gets out that stupid pup has the gall to search him out just to - again - blame him for all of his problems and even for the death of his sister and the bus driver <.<...
On that note: I think Derek said he came to find his sister/meet his sister. To me it sounded in that moment as if he hadn't known she was dead when he arrived and that confuses me...
Also: shouldn't he also have a connection/pack bond with the Alpha if he wants to or not? Or does a pack just fall apart when the old Alpha dies until they've submitted to the new one? <.<
And doesn't that mean that Derek's currently a packless Omega? <.<...
Aaand there's another horror film track shot classic that sends the camera from Derek and Scott to the outside of the Hale house where the Alpha is waiting/his eyes are glowing in the dark.
... So why didn't the Alpha go to them? Or did he just... sit there and stare at the house until Scott leaves? If the Alpha runs on instinct why didn't he try to get to Scott or Derek - especially after Scott left - when he is trying to get Scott and Derek to accept being part of his pack? <.<...
Kate drives into town without stopping and the Alpha attacks here somewhere in town. Close enough to Scotts home that he sees her shortly after she shoots her shotgun twice when the shots were what woke him up.
1) did the Alpha smell her through her car and the fumes? <.<
2) did he just stumble over her car while running through the town?? <.<...
3) if not, did he follow her from the outside into town? why didn't he attack her there instead of somewhere quieter? <.<...
I'm still confused by the whole Derek clawed Jackson in the neck and it did something to Jackson-stuff. Especially because Derek's not an Alpha yet <.<...
And finally just a quote from Derek that amused me for potential fanfic reasons when Scott asks why Derek can't just track the Alpha as a human: "Beause his human scent could be entirely different" <.<
#teen wolf#sei's brain bubbles#just me watching TW and blubbering about it#I still can only watch these episodes in increments#and I'm mostly skipping through the Scott/Allison-stuff#because they're getting on my nerves so much#especially Scott is just so stupid...#and I know - 'Teenager' - but I can still watch Buffy without any problems#and the main characters there are also mostly teenagers in the beginning!
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more thoughts about Wish:
Chris Pine has the best voice acting in this movie by far. Dude could be a legitimately scary villain if the animation wasn't so goofy
I'm telling you dude, the man is acting his ass off but the script and animation style are just ruining all the emotion he's giving
Alan Tudyk is also putting in the work but the script is not working in his favor
Evan Peters needs more lines. His character is legitimately interesting, a young guy who just gave up his wish and is now weirdly lethargic all the time, but they don't explore it enough
Speaking of the animation, it felt very inconsistent. With the King especially we'd get like... one cool moment (like him stopping the globes during his solo song) but then it's immediately cut by these goofy Nimona-as-Ballister type motions
The facial expressions are generally overblown, past the point of "animation stretching the rules" and into "this just looks goofy"
Like I said before, it feels like a patchwork of a dozen other, better Disney movies. My dad and I were watching this going "Tangled. Brave. Frozen. Peter Pan. Mulan."
The third act is like... Rise of the Guardians meets that one scene in Trolls where they sing True Colors
The music is just inconsistent. I think it mainly comes from the fact that they had a pop singer/songwriter do the music rather than a musical theatre composer, there aren't any consistent themes or leitmotifs and it leaves everything feeling very disjointed.
Some of the songs on their own are decently catchy but they just feel like they're trying way too hard
The dialogue is the same way. It serves a purpose but it doesn't quite feel natural or human. Some characters are worse than others and the VO work plays a role but the script itself is just awkward
I think they've just set up too many characters here. If they took two people out of Asha's friend group it would leave more room to develop the others. As it is, I don't remember their names and I have no idea what they want
Except for Asha since she's the main character and Simon because he's the only one who stands out from the rest (again, really interesting character! drastically underutilized!)
Feels like the talking animals are only a thing because it's a Disney movie. Valentino I understand, animal sidekicks are a classic, but the chickens and squirrels and mice are just too much
As a whole there's just... no substance in it. It feels like they've tried to make The Disney Movie and just started making it without even deciding on the themes or characters' journeys at all
It is a heaping pile of deus ex machinas. Every single problem in this movie is resolved in some cheeky little deus ex machina, solely for the sake of a stupid joke or a cheap reference to another Disney reference
If you're gonna copy Lin-Manuel Miranda's composition style anyway... just hire Lin-Manuel Miranda. At least he knows how rhyme schemes and leitmotifs work
This movie is so fucking trite it makes me legitimately angry
Good points I guess (because I refuse to dish on a movie without pointing out something decent about it):
Some of the songs are kinda catchy
There are a few powerful moments of animation, mostly with the King
There are little gold character moments here and there: the King's desperation for power, Simon's character as a whole, Asha's selflessness sparking the initial wish, etc.
Some of the voice acting is legitimately good!
The concept itself is interesting, a King who hoards wishes to make himself more powerful. It had the grounds to be a much better movie, it just didn't act on them very well
The diversity in this movie is genuinely good! We see various demographics of people - race, gender, physical build, disability, etc. - and there's not much "Disney same face syndrome" like we've gotten in other movies.
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— WHO IS HAN BEOMJI?
she’s a TWENTYyear old wannabe, born JANUARY 8, 2003. she’s currently undecided regarding companies and lives by the words “and then the miracle happens, the sun comes up again.”
maybe you should learn more or ask her a question.
▶ PLAY THE CLIP [ harsh_critique.mp4 ]
it’s an act of abject bravery when beomji approaches the door to her professor’s office and knocks three times, softly, but with persistence. determination. she’s a woman on a mission. she tells herself that the alternative is this entire situation being condensed into a firm, thoroughly-outlined email that she’d press send on and dive under the covers to hide from, in the hopes that she’d forget she’d even sent it before a response came in. but this is a grade, a grade that, for all intents and purposes, had seriously fucked up her running A average for the semester.
a C was hardly the end of the world, but its presence in her gradebook was taunting – the critique beside it, even more so. “your composition lacks inspiration,” it reads. “technically well-executed, but failed to move me as a listener.”
she’d screamed into her pillow reading it back, but the same intensity escapes her when a toneless “come in,” beckons her to enter. she contemplates, for a long moment, just turning around and leaving, taking the knock to her cumulative grade in stride and making up for it by doing exceptionally well on other, more weight-y assignments, but she’s trying this thing where she “takes risks” and “stands up for herself”. so, brave beomji sets her shoulders back and enters the room.��
realistically, there’s nothing even remotely intimidating about professor yoon: she’s a stout, friendly-looking older woman who speaks in straight-forward statements and charmingly accented idioms. her short, bobbed hair is graying and she wears colorful, quirky vests over her well-worn black turtlenecks, no matter the season – by all means, she’s a reasonable woman, and one that beomji has developed a distinct fondness for, but hinged confrontation has never really been beomji’s strong suit so it’s with very little finesse that she blurts out, “a C?!”
there’s a long, embarrassing pause through which beomji’s face colors red and she accents her statement with an aborted bow. for professor yoon’s part, spinning her chair around, the only response is a blink and a furrowed brow.
“sorry. i, um. i have a question about the rubric for the assignment we submitted last week.” beomji corrects herself.
there’s a chuckle, something wise and expecting, amused, as though professor yoon had seen this very moment coming from a mile away. retrospectively, maybe she had. “i had a feeling. have a seat, beomji.”
ever-obedient, beomji has a seat.
“what’s your question?”
“why, mostly.” with the worst out of the way, beomji feels less afflicted and presses on, “i thought my submissions sounded really nice, and based on everything else we’ve done this semester, i thought you’d enjoy them.”
“and therein lies the problem,” professor yoon says without any hesitation. she gives beomji only a moment to take it in before she expands, “to put it simply, miss han, your compositions sound like what you think i would like to hear.”
beomji looks off to the side, both in petulance and confusion.
“you’re a great technical musician, and incredibly bright, but you’ve made a habit of seeking out a formula for what makes something a solid piece of work instead of feeling it. that's great for a scientist, but creativity can’t be manufactured, beomji, that comes from you,” professor yoon offers her a sympathetic smile. “i can’t teach you that and i can’t reward a lack of it either. so, until you can show me something that feels like something you created, your grade stands.”
“but—”
“my best advice? find some inspiration, don’t formulate it. and for your own sake, miss han, loosen up.”
(on the way home, beomji wishes, for a bitter, fleeting moment, that she’d told professor yoon to shove it.)
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Hazbin Hotel: Angel Dust Redesign Reveal (Review and Critique)
Welp everyone, looks like the “sexy” spider is finally here, with his look for the actual show, and it’s............something. Not good, not bad, just.....something.
https://twitter.com/hazbinhotel/status/1520100707814182912?s=21&t=ROgAPulvM6_E7271qljovA
So........yeah okay, this is what we’re going for. Cool beans. 😐
Yeah I’ll say it now, my blood ain’t boiling like the last two redesigns. Charlie and Alastor were worth my anger because Viv just made Charlie worse, making her completely red when she was honestly fine the way she was before, and with Al she didn’t do shit, a character who’s problems you could see just by LOOKING at him. With Angel though.....he had issues but I wasn’t expecting her to do much, and what do you know, she didn’t. Nothing creative to make him pop out, no experiments with different colors, no variety, no new features, at this point I’m used to being heavily disappointed. I’m just looking at him and going........“oh....yeah okay.” Like I feel so drained from disappointment than I am angry LMAO, but enough of me yacking, let’s talk about it!
So I guess I’ll start with the background like I always do. It looks nice, I’m honestly glad to know that most of Angel’s room palette will be purple, it’ll be a nice break of all the damn reds in the hotel. Now, of course the background doesn’t contrast with the character, but I think it’s because they wanted to show the FLAT colors without composition so I don’t care, let’s move on to Angel himself.
So let me just say that I’m glad that there’s actual CHANGES here, and not just a white line like a certain character. HOWEVER....the changes are........not so good in my opinion. Now before I get to that, it’s obvious to note the changes made that make it easier for animators. There are less spots on Angel’s head, he doesn’t have a big row of teeth like before, and he has less stripes on his suit so I do appreciate that, but again, the changes made and the lack of unique variety get to me, so let’s talk about it. Firstly, he has no black pupil over his....other pupil and I honestly don’t like that, it looked better before and I thought it fit with the whole “two eyes” thing, it made you drawn to his eye and now it just looks the same, you could even say it’s a little off putting. They could have maybe made it a different color, along with his yellow sclera because it’s just pink and yellow, again....the colors Viv is obsessed with. I miss his grey sclera. Anyway, another change is that his right eye, bow tie, and suit flaps are all black now. Which......is boring. I mean...I’m glad his suit flaps aren’t hot pink anymore but it seems like whenever Viv needs to change a color that wasn’t necessary to the design (so all the pinks and reds) she’ll just make it black because she’s still stuck in her comfort zone and can’t use other colors or the world will end. If you seen some of my blog, you’ll know that the reason I don’t like black on viv’s characters is because it’s another color she overuses, when she’s not using reds, pinks, yellows, and whites, it’ll be black and I just think it’s a boring and a lazy color to chose when you’re trying to make the character look appealing. It can work SOMETIMES but with Viv I’m just.......ehhh, though you can disagree with me.
Moving on, I also noticed how his bow tie doesn’t look like a butterfly now, and I’m honestly glad, I never liked the way Viv drew bow ties, but I still think THAT along with the choker is unnecessary, they should have gotten rid of one of them because it just looks weird. Man, Viv really likes chokers huh?? But enough about that, let’s get to his actual suit because DEAR lord it’s the worst part. Now I’m going to be honest, the first time I saw this as a whole I just went “what the fuck is he wearing??” Because it looked like a freaking suit/nightgown LMAO. I’m obviously talking about his second pair of arms, as it seems like he’s sleeveless. Turns out he actually IS wearing a pair of gloves there, they’re just white (Viv confirmed on Twitter) so.....ONE, looks like Viv forgot to convey that in the drawing, and TWO.......yeah the choice to have him wear two different pairs of gloves in each set of arms is ridiculous. Like.....I don’t get it. Why? Is it to make him stand out? Because it doesn’t, it just makes him look distracting and wonky to look at, ESPECIALLY in animation. If I saw him moving around a lot, I’d just wouldn’t know where to look, the two gloves make him look busy, it was a stupid decision I’m sorry. Moving on, instead of his suit being white with pink stripes, it’s pink with white stripes. I’m just like.....o-okay?? I mean I’m happy his entire suit doesn’t look like his fur like before but I’m just meh about this. Again his whole suit in general is just....boring, I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but I don’t like how Viv draws suits, they all look the same and are all DRAWN the same and half of the time they honestly don’t even LOOK like suits, so at this point I don’t care about the switching of the white to pink. Oh, and I guess those small white markings on his first set of gloves are to make him stand out as well. Ugh.....it’s the COLORS that are the issue. For HIS case, I don’t mind white and pink being his main palette but I still wanted other colors OTHER than black. Again, purple would have been nice but.....we’re clearly not getting that. Viv just needs to start using more color variety, and the fact that Angel’s colors are all the same bore me.
So yeah, that wraps it up for Angel’s redesign. I can’t call it awful, it’s certainly not as bad as Charlie with her red, but it’s still bad. Not only is it boring and more busy with the stupid set of different gloves, but it’s just uninspiring. I don’t understand why he couldn’t have a suit with lines, or a buttoned suit, and it still disappoints me that he doesn’t have his mobster hat or even a TAD features that point to him being a mobster in life. I saw a REALLY good redesign on Twitter for him, and I’ll share that in another post, but for now, this Angel Dust is..........a downgrade, that’s all I can say. 😔
#vivziepop critical#spindlehorse critical#hazbin hotel critical#vivienne medrano#vivziepop#hazbin hotel#anti vivziepop#Hazbin hotel Angel dust#hazbin hotel redesign#Hazbin hotel Angel dust redesign#Angel dust#hazbin hotel critique#Hazbin hotel criticism#character design critique#demon character design#a24 films#vivziepop critique
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I, you | Kim Namjoon One Shot
word count: 8.2k
pairing: idol!namjoon x fem reader
summary: namjoon meets you again and he can't help but want you to look at him the same way he has all these years.
disclaimer: it's sort of written from y/n pov. kind of smut included, not too much but still. other then that, i don't think there's anything. it was written a long time ago so i don't clearly remember, sorry!
Namjoon walked in, followed by a few staff members and they occupied the empty chairs on the conference table and I smiled at him and the others. He looked great like always, he was in a navy blue hoodie and a khaki colored trouser, with his hair pushed backwards exposing his forehead.
There was something and nothing between me and him and it was too tiring to play pretend. "You look good", he remarked and I smiled at him. He's always being too kind, I looked like absolute shit, I hadn't slept in three days and my clothes were whatever was in my reach that I'd put on after showering and I rushed here.
I had met him before this level of success but I was merely an assistant director myself and we'd talked about Monet and his work together, he'd similar interests to mine but both of us didn't really get anywhere because of our timing and I believed it was for the good. He'd always expressed how he liked my vision and wants to work with me on something and I didn't believe my vision because what even was my vision that he could see and not me and after being this big I didn't really thought he'll even remember me until he hit my phone one day and here I was, at the label's office to discuss the details of his mixtape's music video.
"So, do you've something in mind?", I asked him and he pressed his back on the chair letting out a yawn, he seemed tired.
"Not really! I want it simplistic and not too hard to understand. I haven't thought about it or anything so I don't know, I would await what you propose", he softly said.
"I haven't heard the track because of--", he intervened, "--ah you haven't? You should hear it first", he said and I nodded.
"I would need to hear it", I told him, thinking about the lengthy talks with the illustrator already.
The staff then pin pointed about the budget, the do nots and other details and two of my team members who were seated beside me talked thoroughly in detail about the technicalities. Namjoon looked bored with all the talk that didn't interest him. He wasn't much different from before slightly bigger.
All of us stood up coming to an agreement when Namjoon asked me to walk up to his studio to hear the track and I asked my team members to go ahead first. I walked through the dark corridor behind him while he talked to someone on the phone, all the way to his studio. I didn't really hear what he was talking because I was invested in staring around the place like I hadn't seen a building before.
The walls were all dark and a comforting shade since I didn't like the sun anyway. It seemed like a night mode in real life.
His studio was the corner most, he typed the passcode in and stood aside gesturing for me to walk in, followed by him. He hung up the phone call and put his phone aside, switching the AC on. He sat behind the monitor while he switched it on and I went through my inbox.
"So, how have you been?", his deep tone, made me look up and I fidgeted to put my eyes on something other then him while he turned his chair around to face me.
"I have been okay-ish, like the projects I'm doing I'm satisfied with them so I guess it's kinda okay", I said and regretted it immediately, I don't even talk like this and he knows it.
"Not the work c'mon, you, your boyfriend, family, other things?", a lose smile hung on his lips and I looked at him. How can someone look like that?
"No boyfriend because you know no one can put up with this profession. I haven't slept in three days so I'm fucking annoyed and the work is too much that I don't have time for other things", I shrugged and he chuckled. I didn't want to think about guys, I barely had time for myself. Filmmaking was a time bound profession.
"I relate, trust me I do", he turned his chair back around, his eyes on the computer screen and I looked at him. I could see why he could relate, I mean of course he didn't had time either. I knew idol schedules enough to know how these things go. "Why didn't you come that day?", he asked me and my insides twisted.
"I was hoping you don't bring it up", I said in a small voice.
"Why not? I waited for you", he said without looking at me and I threw my head back on the couch thinking of the time when he'd asked me out officially and I didn't make it. "At least I deserve to know what was more important that you didn't make it", he looked at me and I closed my eyes shut.
"I had a flight, I got an exclusive food show travel experience with discovery and it was too good for an opportunity to miss", I let it out and took a breath in. I knew I could never leave work for a guy, any guy, or anyone as a matter of fact and as much as I'd thought about it on the plane...it all seemed for the better. He wasn't the kind of guy I could've had my regular thing with and I was too young to be serious.
"It was a good show", he told me. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn't flinch. I didn't regret it but his words made me feel guilty. My head was on the headrest of the sofa I sat on and my eyes were closed. My subconscious could feel his curious gaze on me.
"Look away Namjoon", I said and I could feel his gaze was still on me.
"Why didn't you call me when you got back?", he asked me and I looked at him.
"I didn't because our cultures differ, everything is poles apart--what's the point of discussing it now?", I asked him, slightly annoyed. He and I separately needed to focus on our careers and he knew it too damn well.
"Okay", he turned around again as his monitor showed a circle indicating that the programme he'd launched was loading. "It does makes me feel better that my better position in life doesn't changes your opinion on me. Quiet comforting", he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice but I chose to ignore it. The last thing I'd be doing is fueling this feeling in him by discussing this useless thing which wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.
"Is this the reason you wanted me to do this project with you?", I asked him and he swiftly turned his chair around.
"No, I don't take all this for granted. I love the stuff you do. I'm pretty updated thanks to how active you're on your social media", he smiled and I couldn't shook the thought of seeing my psychotic episodes on my Instagram, Twitter...everywhere. I'm pretty weird out there.
"I love it, the stories", he flased his dimple smile before turning his chair around again and I felt his warmth, like he meant what he said.
For a second I was taken aback with how tall he was from me and how good he looked, he'd always looked good but he was more mature now and much more reserved. "I'll be calling you often because I won't send it for pre-production without your say on the concept", I told him.
"I'll look forward to a lot of calls", he said. "I'm sorry this is taking a while", he added quickly and for some reason I couldn't look away from him, whose back was visible to me.
"No, take your time", I said, crossing my arms against my chest. I really wished he was a regular guy just making music but then I didn't. I wouldn't want someone to wish that for me. He'd earned all of it and I knew it.
"Look away ___", he said slowly. I could feel his grin through his words and I looked away shaking my head right and left softly. "It's, yeah it's playing", he turned around as the music filled in the empty atmosphere.
It was a slow song with a really fast rap. It was how Namjoon was, he contradicted himself too much. I instantly knew it was his writing from the way the words went and the wordplay came into role. I couldn't help but analyze the song because I was supposed to shoot and sketch a music video for it and at times like this I didn't really get to enjoy the art for the art and I hated it.
"How was it?", he asked me, his eyes fixated on me as the music faded. I wanted it to last.
"The only problem with it is that it ends", I flashed a smlie at him and he shook his head throwing it back.
"That's too corny even for you", Namjoon rolled his eyes but I was being serious. "You know I appreciate heavy critics", he said.
"I didn't find anything to criticize, the writing is great, the composition fits and it has a catchy vibe to it. I think I would listen a song like that on a drive or something? In your case a bicycle but yeah! It's a good song", I summarized my opinion. "Do you like want a trendy video?", I asked him.
"Anything that you want to do with it", he said and I gently nodded. Since it was given to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with it.
"Can you stop thinking about it while you're with me ___?", he chuckled and I looked at him taken aback for a second and then nodded with a soft smile pasted on my lips.
"Your fashion sense has improved", I remarked.
"You look casual", he teased me.
"I, I've no fashion sense. I just wear whatever is there", I told him.
"I don't think so, your Instagram says different", he said.
"It's for the show Namjoon", I said.
"You're really not the type to do that, please don't deceive me", he beamed before he turned his chair around again to minimize the current tabs on the computer.
"You're the last person I'd be deceiving--", my words were cut from an incoming call from one of the producers of one of the shows I was working on. "I need to take this", I told him and answered the call while he just gave me a gentle nod in response.
The producer had informed me about the issues related to casting and the final draft of the script and I knew I had to go.
"Guess I'll see you later, bye", Namjoon said warmly as he smiled at me. The thing was he just knew and that always stuck somewhere.
"Bye", I left.
________________
"I, for one, disagree. C'mon how do you even call it an end?", I threw my hands in the air as we discussed it for the millionth time. I liked Su-ho but his thoughts on GOT made me want to kill him. He is the only person I knew who was satisfied with how it ended.
"I think it was okay, c'mon, you have to consider that the novels didn't end and as compared to that I think it was pretty good", Su-ho claimed while he sat on the bean bag in front of me, pushing it comfortably.
"Don't even start with the novels--", my words were interrupted with the sound of the doorbell, "--they didn't even do a good job interpreting it and I am offended by that. Look there novels", I pointed at my bookshelf, showing him my GOT collection which he knew as I opened the door and my head bumped against Namjoon's chest as he took a step in.
He chuckled as he held the back of my head with one hand and pressed my forehead with the other and rubbed it gently to ease the pain.
"What's uh, what's that? Is it iron", I mocked, pointing at his chest while he let me go from his grip and took his shoes off.
"It can be", he said. "But why were you jumping around so enthusiastically?", he asked me as he seated on the couch in front of Su-ho, as he greeted him and Su-ho greeted him back.
"Game of Thrones heavy discussions", I sighed. "This is Su-ho who's illustrating the storyboard", I told Namjoon.
Su-ho was starstruck and it seemed like it'd take him a good minute to recover and Namjoon was obviously used to it. I didn't call him at the office because a lot of people would want to see him then and it could be exhausting plus he'd a time limit on his hands.
"You know him, ___?", Su-ho widened his eyes at me and I nodded, suppressing my laughter seeing his chaotic ass behave like this.
"A little", I said and I could feel Namjoon's gaze on me. "Maybe a lot", I rephrased. I could see by the way Su-ho looked at me that he needed answers. "Coffee?", I asked Namjoon.
"Oh yeah", he replied and I stood up. "I've thought of two concepts, Su-ho please brief him on it and if you want anything differently Namjoon, you can tell him", I told him as I marched towards the kitchen.
Should I use the regular coffee mugs or should I use the better ones? I mean it doesn't matter anyway but still, it kind of does? I don't know. It just comes to me, the over thinking.
Ah.
I could hear him and Su-ho talking about the concepts faintly and I was low-key proud because I did work hard on them. I opened the cabinet to take out the better coffee mugs.
This is what happens when you stop drinking milk and stop growing up. I rested my hands on the kitchen pavement thinking about how many shoes with heels I'd because of my height.
I wasn't very short but I wasn't my desired height too. It was sad. I was the right person to sell the tonics concerning height because my insecurity would make me buy it. I exhaled heavily and turned around to find Namjoon behind me.
"Let me", my hips pressed against the marble pavement while his body gently pressed against my front, I could spot the mole on his neck while he calmly took the box of mugs out. "Okay?", he whispered softly and I looked on without responding.
"Thanks", I told him, hoping he'd get away from me because this had me feeling some type of way. I won't admit what type of way. That makes it worse.
"Anytime", he clicked his lips, taking a few steps back as I stirred the coffee and poured it in three cups. Should've used regular ones.
"I like the quotes on that wall", he said as I handed him his cup, taking the other two. A wall of my house was covered in post-it notes and other stuff. Some print outs of Van Gogh and Frida's works alongside other things.
"Yeah that? Thanks", I said, as I gave the cup to Su-ho. "Did you decide on something?", I asked, as I sat down and Namjoon just beside me.
"Yeah, the first one. It was kind of okay, he made some alterations so I would send it to you by...maximum tomorrow", Su-ho told me. "But why did you call him here for just this?", he asked me.
"You seem so concerned about his whereabouts", I glared Su-ho . "I told him I could just email him but he insisted on doing it in person", I looked at Namjoon who took a long sip from his coffee.
"Yeah I did, don't worry I was absolutely free", Namjoon smiled at Su-ho and I could see Su-ho fanboy-ing.
"You're so in line today", I pressed my words.
"Shut up", Su-ho eyed me. I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug feeling its warmth.
After I talked to Namjoon for a while about the shoot and he explained to me about their company procedure and how they usually did things. I didn't like doing music videos or commercials, there's a lot of time you're bound by what the music video demands and you've to stick with that so that was that. I usually preferred either cinema like movies or dramas, I hadn't done much but I had done a few and travel shows were my preference.
"I'll see you next time then", Su-ho politely remarked looking at Namjoon and he smiled and gently bowed his head. I walked with him up-to the door. "I didn't, what the hell, you could've given me a heads up?", Su-ho whispered slowly to me as I leaned against the door.
"I didn't knew you were a fan", I said and he playfully hit me on my arm.
"I still can't believe it, you've to answer my hot questions next time", he said and I nodded.
"Okay okay", I closed the door shut behind me, taking a seat on the far side of the sofa me and Namjoon were seated on. He was scanning my bookshelf and I was looking at him.
"Literally 70% of it is fiction", he said. I read a lot of fiction and he read a lot of nonfiction.
"You should read fiction", I said and he looked at me slightly pissed.
"I do read fiction just not thar much", he pointed at my bookshelf. "If you've to recommend one, shoot", he said.
"Recommend, uh, the secrets of happiness", I said randomly and his face sunk in annoyance. "It's not a book talking about literal secrets of happiness, it has a story", I told him.
"Ah okay...I will try reading that. Let me take your copy", he said.
"No", I said back in a split second.
"I won't lose it, c'mon, ___", he said. I couldn't believe his testimony on not losing it.
"Fine, but it's annotated. You'll owe me big time if you lose it", I said and he nodded vigorously.
"Your place is great", he said looking around the house and I couldn't see why, I mean yeah maybe but not that I find it great if I think from his point of view.
"I'm barely here anyway. I pay rent for no reason", I kept the empty mug in my hand on the glass table in front of us.
"That was your friend though, Su-ho?", Namjoon asked as he kept his cup, followed by me.
"Oh yeah! I met him for work but then it's been a while since I know him, it's been years actually and he's a friend now", I said thinking about Su-ho. I don't know why I bothered explaining. It's been a good five years since Namjoon and I hadn't been in touch and there was a little catching up to do.
"You've always had a lot of friends, don't you", he sighed as he sat cross legged on the sofa facing me. I do have plenty friends honestly.
"Kind of", I shrugged. His gaze on me made me sit back in a more cautious way as I fixed my posture. "Namjoon...", I called out his name when the doorbell rung and I was irritated. "Give me a second", I stood up and walked up-to the main door.
It was my neighbor who's mother had left their house keys with me and he was here to take it back. He thanked me for keeping it and walked up to his own flat which was in front of mine.
I closed the door shut and Namjoon was standing by the balcony seeing a cactus I had grown since I couldn't grow any other plant because I was never home to take care of them in case.
"It's cute", he said as he picked the potted plant and stared at it for a little while and I stood behind him and watched him see it.
"You know your pupils dilate when you see plants", I said and he smiled to himself. He kept the cactus back in its resting place and stared at me. "What?", I asked him.
"You were going to say something", he said, his voice sounded deeper then usual for a second and I licked my bottom lip in haste.
"Oh that, you know the alterations you made? I will directly mail it to the staff and maybe cc you because it won't need a second check anyway. I've to get this done a little early since I've--", he turned towards me and I took a step back but there was barely any space and my back was pressed against the wall, "--what is it?", I asked but it came out as a whisper.
"Here", he dragged his index finger across my bottom lip and there was something on my lip. I didn't really see what was on there because of his presence so close to me. My heartbeat had fastened and I could feel it. Something I didn't want to feel.
"Thanks, I guess", I said slowly and he flashed his dimple smile at me and in that moment he seemed the opposite of the dominant he was a few seconds ago.
"Do you know you look really good?", he said, as his fingers ran across my ear touching the piercings one by one. I regretted having three all of a sudden. "And I didn't intended to do this but ___ I uh", he bent over a little, his lips a few inches away from my ear and his breath was falling on my neck.
"Namjoon", I said, trying to not look at him. I knew damn well I couldn't be able to control myself.
"Hmm", his voice was so small and I could feel goosebumps all over my neck. His gaze on me was strong and I had jitters in my stomach.
"I, uh--let's not okay", I put my hands on his shoulder as he pulled me more closer with a jolt and I gasped.
"Do you really not want to?", he asked me. It was a while since I was in this close proximity of someone like this but my subconscious kept telling me not to. "I don't understand what you find so undesirable about me", he took a few steps back and looked away.
What?
"Do you think I find you undesirable?", I asked him, pressing my lips suppressing my smile. I couldn't get how could he change roles in a span of few seconds.
"Yeah, it's pretty evident really", he sighed, looking at the the far side of the sky at the horizon and I saw him sulking.
"It's not that, are you fucking dumb? It's just you know you shouldn't start things you can't take care of", I said. For some reason I've always felt a little hesitant with him. "But you're desirable enough", I added.
"Sudden validation from you, ah", he clicked his lips in mockery and I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to look like I was playing hard to get. I didn't feel competent enough in my heart. "Let me kiss you", he said, taking a few steps closer breaking the chain of my thoughts and I hated being so much in control and feeling a little out of place.
I was back to where I was a few seconds ago, me cornered and he put his lips on mine and my body automatically responded. He took over me in a second. My hands rested on his back and clutched the fabric. His hands travelled below my hips as he pulled me upwards and my legs wrapped around his waist. He didn't stop kissing me for one second and I didn't want him to, as he pressed his mouth harder on mine and I bit back a moan. I could feel the heat in my body and every vein seemed to electrify. He walked me up-to my bedroom like he knew which suddenly felt foreign to me as he laid me on the bed, breaking the kiss and I was breathless, panting for air.
I didn't had any resort in me to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I couldn't care more about whatever that had me concerned for a while. He watched me look at him and his lips curved in a smirk. "Should I stop?", he teased me taking a seat on the edge of the bed and I looked away from him to the right side, scoffing.
I pushed myself up, my hands at the hem of the lose white t-shirt I'd on and for a second I hesitated at the fact that he must've seen better flesh than mine but I pulled it upwards exposing myself in front of him as his eyes went everywhere. "Do you want to stop?", I asked him, as I crawled over to him. He didn't object as I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. I looked in his eyes. He looked beautiful. I traced the outline of his skull, his jaw as I pushed his hair locks that were on his forehead behind. "Do you want to stop Namjoon?", I asked him again as he held me tight, giving me my answer.
He tugged at my neck with his mouth leaving a trail of gentle kisses down and I could feel my nipples startlingly prominent beneath the black lightweight bra I had on. I clutched his hair as he bit my neck suddenly and I gasped.
He pushed me on to him, nearer but there was barely any space for me to come close and I could feel him all over. He messily kissed me before groping my bottom and I-I cut a breath in. He would take turns and be gentler a second and rough the another. "Namjoon", I called out gasping which fueled him even more. He looked at me and smiled proudly at how he had me without doing much.
He flicked the straps of my bra shoving it down exposing my breasts and I could feel my nipples harden to the point it was painful. I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, more. The way my body responded to his touch was almost funny, how quick, how wet.
I patiently unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off of him while he looked at me with a gaze I couldn't quite make anything of, he just looked at me while he let me work on him. My hands touched his chest and my eyes examined his torso, his skin was warm and his gaze on me gave me confidence like he wanted me back as much I wanted him.
I was forgetting my own desperation for his touch as my hand traveled behind his back, trailing down to his spine and he looked at me as he cut a sharp breath in and I felt good seeing him giving in to me. His arms surrounded mine unclasping my bra in a second and he threw it off on the floor.
I half expected him to grab me and grope my breast but he swept me in his arms as his vaguely pink mouth pressed against mine and instead of hastily grabbing me, his mouth simply rested against mine and it was worse, much more intoxicating. I, on instinct coiled my arms against his neck.
As my tongue demanded entrance and he smiled before letting me, and in a second, roles were reversed, the romantic was gone. He took control and pressed his mouth harder on me with his thumb and finger pressing my nipple and my nails dug deeper in his neck. "Joon...", I on instinct called out, as I gasped for breath but he didn't let me.
He was hard against me and I grinded next to him which seemed to please him while he left my mouth, burning with a wanting for more while my sex clenched as he took control of my body putting his arms around my back and they were free to go anywhere. I wouldn't dare stop him.
A second later, he laid me on the bed and hovered over me before taking my shorts off in a whirl and pushed my underwear off me that it didn't seem reusable. I anticipated his actions but he pushed a thumb into my bottom without no warning and I clutched the sheets, a yell escaping my mouth. My fingers curled meanwhile his other arm grabbed my breast cupping it and a second later his forefinger and middle finger slipped inside of me and my grip on the sheets tightened.
"Shh", he hissed in my ear and I hadn't realized a moan had escaped my mouth. My whole body rocked in less then a minute and I couldn't control my voice, I gasped for breath and I moaned even louder then before. "I didn't take you for a screamer ___", Namjoon seemed amused while embarrassment washed over me as I laid exposed in front of him.
"Let me go down on you", I told him and he looked taken aback as I pushed myself up.
"Do you really want to?", he asked and I shifted closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
"I would love to", I told him. "Do you want me to?", I asked him.
"Yeah, I mean yeah", he said when his phone rang echoing in the room and his face flushed into irritation as he looked at me and I nodded gesturing him to take it. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. With every word he spoke, his irritation grew. He hung up the phone call. "Where's the wardrobe?", he asked me and my eyes pointed behind him.
Namjoon opened my wardrobe and took out a very lose t-shirt of his choice from my stack of comfortable clothes. He held my arms and slipped the t-shirt on me, pulling me close. He stroked my face and he smiled in my face which forced me to smile as well.
"Am I suppose to expect something from you or should I forget this?", I asked him as his fingers tucked the few strands of my hair behind my ear.
"You're supposed to expect everything, don't dare forget it", he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it and I couldn't help but giggle. "I want to talk to you but I've to go now and I hate it", he smiled at me.
"Okay, go", I told him and he chuckled before letting me off him and he wore his shirt back on.
After seeing him off and taking a shower, I laid back on the couch in the living room thinking about everything that had happened. I didn't regret it, I wasn't thinking much about it anyway.
The guys I'd sex with or made out with, I disliked them because of their narcissism. I appreciated my ability to find guys that were a-grade assholes. I've always had this feeling that I am lacking in some sense with other people. I look normal, like I should but I get this insecurity when taking my clothes off.
I didn't knew what Namjoon thought about it and asking him would be weird. No one who knows me like him would think I am this insecure or anxious about this stuff but then a major part of it has to do with my aura, I guess?
________________
I took a bite of the sandwich that I held in my hand as I walked around the second set just nearby to the first one. I stood afar, taking a good look, even though the storyboard fits the sights I still need to frame out a rough sketch work in my head.
I took another bite staring at the beach and the path to it and then back to the set that we'd build up by man power. It was pretty accurate in my eyes but I wanted to hear from my assistant director.
I took the walkie talkie out from the pocket of my denim and pressed the centre button, "Jae-chan, where are you?"
In a second he reverted, "Ah sunbae I am near the gripper".
"Come to the road that leads to the beach", I said, before shoving the walkie talkie down in my pocket.
The sea met the sky at the far point of the horizon and how the world is full of these illusions which are not real we know but we still believe. After all there's beauty in things that you don't get. Vastness maybe?
Sea and sky — the two melancholic blues.
"Sunbae?", Jae Chan broke the chain of my thoughts and I glanced at him before looking at the sea. His breath was heavy, I could tell he ran here.
"You could have walked, Chan-ah", I said, smiling. He was really young and passionate about filmmaking but also a little silly. He's cute.
"Ah it's okay. Did you need something?", he asked politely and I shook my head. I liked the input of many people on the same thing, it showed the number of opinions that could centre around one thing that you make in a different context which is then perceived in another.
"Do you think this is accurate in terms of the story board?", I asked him and he seemed lost in thought.
"I would say slightly better because the storyboard is still animation and this is real so I would say better. I'm pretty sure it'll be good sunbae", he told me and I could feel a smile flush on my lips. "You are nervous, aren't you?", he asked me.
"Yeah", I wrinkled my nose, turning around to walk off. I patted Jae Chan's back and he started walking with me.
"You don't have to be, and oh, he's here", he said assuring me and I knew who he meant by he.
My mind automatically went to the day in my apartment. Namjoon had messaged me after but he got busier with his work and I am not a text-er plus I'd a lot of things to do before I left Korea. It was, I didn't knew anything and I didn't want to think about it. I hoped he'd pretend nothing happened, please. But I knew he won't.
I sighed and as I entered the main set, around the vanity and food truck, the manager and Namjoon's staff members greeted me. After that, I mean impractically I wanted earth to open and swallow me. Living is hard anyway.
I'd a flight on the weekend, I'd to pack and I'd to get new boots but I'm just dumb because I'm trying to think of other things. I need a new nail paint, do I? I looked at my nails which were painted black. Maybe grey?
"Sunbae?", Jae Chan shook me and I looked at him. He gestured me to look up front and Namjoon was right there looking like Namjoon.
"Hi", I awkwardly waved at him.
"Hi", he flashed his dimple smile at me. His dimple smile hits me.
"You can get the makeup and hair done, I've a few things to recheck", I excused myself. This is awkward. This is so awkward. I hate it.
Δ
Even though I had that awkwardness lingering around but we were nearing to the end of the shoot which went really good because everyone worked so hard. It was mostly one-takes and the lighting supported the whole setting making it so easier for us to finish.
Moreover, it was a while since I had done a music video so it felt good being back on a set like this. Namjoon looked really good with the styling and although I knew the outfits pre-shoot, he still looked better then I'd imagined him to look which enhanced the whole vibe of the music video. He owned earthly tones.
That's why casting and styling is so important. Very much. Makes a gigantic difference.
"What's wrong with you?", I didn't notice he was standing next to me with a small fan in his hands while we prepped for the last shot.
"What's wrong with me?", I asked him, as I adjusted the frame in the main camera. I didn't want this conversation especially right now, especially here.
"I mean...you knowww?", I could feel his stare while I shifted the camera, something is wrong with this.
"I don't know", I said, without looking at him. I was unintentionally making him mad and nothing else.
"I was really scared that you'd say this and see, I mean, why can't you behave normal when I mention anything about us?", he hissed near me and I looked around. Luckily there was no one in our proximity to hear this conversation.
"I-I, Namjoon", I exclaimed, vaguely pointing at the setting hoping we could do this later and I could explain that I would love us but he needs to understand that I won't even be in Korea as much as he thinks I would be and that's why it won't work out.
"I don't care", he eyed me.
"I do. I care, okay? There's no us to begin with and I know I was stupid enough to ask you what I should expect out of, what would you call it, we made out. That's that", I tried being really slow and I could feel annoyance in his sight.
"Made out! Okay, okay fine. I can't believe I deal with you. You're the one who doesn't text or call or even respond to it and that's bare minimum ___", he pondered and I internally rolled my eyes.
I was leaving on the weekend. I was always leaving. That's it. "I don't have to and I have a life Namjoon. I've been working non stop all this time. I don't expect you to understand", I said, standing up from my seat while I called for the head DOP from the walkie talkie.
"You don't want to be understood ___", Namjoon said, grabbing me from my arm and stopping me. He wasn't wrong. A few eyes snapped and I forced a smile immediately. "I like you, I like you a lot. Deal with it", he walked past me.
Deal with it.
As if.
Very abruptly, the last shot rolled in and it was over. The music video was done in a day. It was originally a two day sketch but we had to narrow it down to one day because of Namjoon's schedule and it was worrisome because it did seem impossible but things went smoothly and it was successfully over.
I told Jae Chan to wrap the filming site, though most of it was done while I was present. I picked my bag from a table to leave, kept right ahead from the vanity. Namjoon had left, I guess. I wasn't sure because after the last shot he was angry. He had his jaw clenched all that time, he barely managed to keep it out on the music video.
He was like this, his anger was pretty evident and that hadn't changed.
I like you. I like you a lot.
I couldn't wrap my head around that thought. Did he like me all this time? It sounded pretty crazy to me. I had never thought about anything with Namjoon. He was a friend I could like but I didn't, I had never expected anything out of my acquaintance with him anyway.
"You ate?", his deep voice made me look at him who stood at the steps of the vanity. He hadn't left yet.
"No", I said. He had changed into his normal clothes, the makeup was gone but he still looked great. His natural complexion was shining as the set lights fell onto his face. It made me surer how Namjoon needed someone who could be there rather then somebody who's never there.
"Come eat something", he said calmly. He looked much composed then before.
"I am not hungry", I stated just when he darted towards me. He held me by my forearm, dragging me into the vanity which was empty except for us. A few dishes were laid out on the table in front of the small couch.
"Eat and leave", he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the mirrors fidgeting with his phone while I quietly sat on the couch. I just wanted it to be over but I'd no appetite so I kept staring at the couple of Italian dishes which were pasta, carbonara I guess, rissoto and also jjangmyeong. "Just eat anything ___", he said, without bothering to look at me.
"I don't really have an appetite", I said, throwing my head back and looking at the ceiling of the vanity.
"What you've is a habit of skipping meals", he eyed me.
I looked at him. "Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?", I asked him as curiosity brimmed in my eyes.
"You don't?", he asked me back. "Well, for me, yeah I do. I did remember every thing but I should probably forget now. I didn't really asked to work with you because I wanted something but I can't say I didn't hope", he locked his phone and kept it on the space in front him. "I mean, we did had something. We did have something a few days ago. You can't exactly call me a friend and I've never seen you as one. The moment you walked in trying to fix the mess on the set since then till now I can't say I didn't hope you'd look at me the same way", he said, bringing all the memories back alive, but it was true, I never looked at him the way he'd wanted me to, hell, I couldn't believe it one bit. "It's true", he said, as if he just read my mind.
It was, it didn't made sense to me. How could he? Why would he? I uh, I think shit's wrong with me because even now I can't seem to focus on someone who confessed their feelings and that someone being Namjoon from all people.
I remember when I was one of the assistant directors under the director for one of the most low-key and low budget project. They didn't had many resources and our firm wasn't doing well either. We always had to come up with hacks, unknown locations for shooting...it was always so hard. We didn't had any respect in the industry.
It was two companies in one boat at the end of bankruptcy and we were so young and such good friends. I knew the rest of the members too but I kind of had a certain vibe with Namjoon. He could get me without having to speak.
I locked at him, his face was fixated on me and I could like him, in fact I did love him not romantically, I just did. I had a lot of love for him. He was caring for the people around him and I loved talking to him. He never once made anyone feel like he was a celebrity back then and a global celebrity now well yeah. He did deserve someone who could be here for him.
He stood up and walked towards me and my eyes followed him. He took a seat next to me and I could see he picked a bowl up but I didn't see which one because I couldn't stop looking at him. Namjoon took a significant amount and extended it to me and I looked at the noodles for a second and then at him. He just nodded and I ate it.
It was good.
"Thanks", I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with my fingers.
"Do you want me to feed you all the way or can you eat your own?", he asked me.
"I will eat", I told him and he gave me the bowl so I could eat on my own. "You ate?", I asked him and he instantly nodded.
"You're going somewhere, aren't you?", he asked me and I felt as if I've just been struck with something.
"Hmm", I said, my mouth almost filled. "And, I...I want to tell you something like adults and clear it. Namjoon you know my work and I am always not here, never. It's useless. Trust me on this, it's not like that but you know you'll need someone beside you and I can't be the one", I told him, calmly, before gulping water down.
"I know that but I'm okay with it. In fact, we would go hand in hand better because I can't take you out on exotic dates as well. This is what you get", he vaguely gestured at the vanity and I chuckled and he warmly smiled at me.
After a second, I spoke much seriously then before, "It will be hard and you know that. It'll be frustrating. You could hate me".
"If you've tired it with someone before, I am not exactly happy knowing this, but you shouldn't compare me with some random dude with a peculiar taste in leather clothing", he rolled his eyes, shifting his back comfortably.
"Hey! Don't be mean just because you see stuff on my Instagram", I scoffed and he maintained his long face.
"No really, what do you take me for? You think you won't have time for me? I won't have time for you", he went on.
"Namjoon", I dragged his name. His tendency to be sarcastic at odd moments is unmatched.
"Don't call my name like that", he stared at my eyes.
"Like what?", I asked him.
"Like you can love me", he said.
"I...you don't have to be like this", I said, keeping the empty bowl on the table.
"Give me a chance then, try it out. I would wait for you I promise", Namjoon took my hand in his and covered it with his warmth.
"Will I be able to...wait?", I looked away from him, thinking about it so hard.
"___ don't think too much. I promise, we'll be fine", he said, his hands travelling to my waist and before he could grab it. I screeched closer to him. I cupped his face and attached my lips to his, while his hands held on my body.
________________
My relationship with Namjoon was better then I imagined it. I tried my best to be there for him and he was surprisingly almost there for me but it wasn't exactly easy.
It was months and months of hardships and Namjoon was more needy then I thought him to be, he needed a lot of assurance. I don't understand the notion that he holds of everyone wanting me so he needs to be extra careful. I still don't get that his insecure ass doesn't trusts his own members, he won't let me meet them at all.
He was really different. He shifted from dominant to romantic in one second. I loved that. I kind of missed it so much.
He held my hand I could feel it by the way his skin felt against mine, he whirled me around and in a second his hand rested on my waist as he urged me to walk next to him. He was in a perfect disguise and I looked at him. I could tell he was smiling beneath his black mask.
"See, this is why I don't trust other guys! How could you let someone do this to you in the midst of the road in a foreign country?", he asked me.
"No stranger would confidently do this to anyone in a foreign country", I playfully hit him on his leg and he stopped, pretending to be gravely hurt. "I can't believe you", I looked at him as I went with his act. I supported him in standing completely. In a second, he intertwined his fingers with mine.
"I missed you", he softly whispered in my ear.
"I missed you too", I whispered back, softly. I pulled him in an empty alley and pulled his mask down. "I need you to do something", I told him, nibbling on his ear and I could feel my skin feel the heat that it yearned for since a couple of months before him going on tour.
"Right now?", he asked surprised.
"Yeah, right now", I said and I could feel him harden against my pelvis.
"You are...so, not right now. Let's go to your hotel room. I'm still famous", he pulled me closer and I chuckled. He turned me around, pulling his mask down, he kissed me hard. His mouth pressed against mine. I held him tightly and he gasped. "I love you", he softly said before pulling his mask up.
"I, you", I held his hand again.
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Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Ayato Route ー Sub Scenario w/Carla
–> In between the main route chapters, the player is taken to the area map of the Parade where you can freely roam around. There are four different places to visit, each with different mini games and sub scenarios to enjoy.
AREA: GLIMMER DARK STREET
CHARACTER: CARLA
ー The scene starts in Aizen Alley
Carla: ...Hm...
Ayato: The fuck? What’s Mr. Scarf up to, gazin’ at the wall of some dirty alleyway...?
Carla: Who do we have here? ...It is you two...
Hmph...Even if I were to explain, there is just no way you lowlives could ever comprehend.
Ayato: Aah!? The fuck’s your problem...? Are you pickin’ a fight with me, huh!?
Yui: ( It seems like he was really absorbed by the graffiti (1) on the wall... )
Carla: Then take a look...
At this calculated composition, executed in such a way it reflects a sense of nonchalance...This is a high-level artwork.
Ayato: Haah? Artwork...? These scribbles on the wall?
Carla: ...Yes. Furthermore, this deep shade of blue...It is not easy to achieve such depth in color.
Well, I do realize that I am wasting my time by explaining this to people who simply do not have an eye for art.
Yui: ( I-Is that so...? )
( However...After hearing Carla-san’s explanation, this graffiti suddenly looks extremely artistic to me... )
Ayato: Che. Look at you actin’ like you know it all...I don’t like your attitude.
Watch me do this!
*Pssh pssh*
Yui: ...Ayato-kun!?
( He doodled over it with a can of spray paint laying on the floor! )
Carla: ...! You fiend! What are you doing...!?
Ayato: Hah! Oi, take a good look!
I’m ‘bout to make this graffiti a million times cooler!
Who chose this dark of a color anyway...? If you’re gonna put graffiti on a wall, you gotta make it bold! Red’s the way to go!
*Psh psh*
Carla: ...You fool...You have ruined the well thought-out composition...
Ayato: Oh fuck off! Who gives a damn ‘bout ‘composition’ or ‘disposition’? (2) Art has to be impactful!
*Psh psh*
Yui: ( Ayato-kun completely painted over it... )
*Thud*
Ayato: There we go. Yeah, that’s lookin’ more like it!
You have to at least go this far. Way to go, me!
Carla: ...
Yui: ( Carla-san...He’s been silently staring at the wall this whole time...Is he upset, perhaps? )
Ayato: ...What’s wrong, Mr. Scarf? Got a problem with my work of art? Aah?
Yui: ( O-Oh no...At this rate, they’ll break out into a fight...! )
Carla: ...This has its appeal as well.
Yui: Eh!?
Ayato: Aah? W-Well...I guess...?
Carla: With the artwork from earlier...As excellent as it may have been, I did feel as if something was missing.
...Hmph, I see...
Ayato: ...R-Right? When I get serious, this is what I’m easily capable of!
Carla: I see. By mixing in shades of red to the entire piece, it brought out a new depth to the artwork. I would not mind adding this one to my personal collection at home...
...
Yui: ( Carla-san...He froze while looking at the wall... )
Ayato: O-Oi...Let’s get goin’ now, Chichinashi.
Yui: You’re amazing, Ayato-kun. You got praised by Carla-san.
Ayato: Yeah...I guess so. Piece of cake!
Yui: ( Although I’m not sure if Ayato-kun is impressive, or if Carla-san just has a questionable taste in art... )
ーー THE END ーー
Translation notes
(1) 落書き or ‘rakugaki’ can refer to ‘doodles’ in general. However, since they talk about a ‘wall’, I think ‘graffiti’ is probably the most accurate translation here.
(2) Ayato has another ‘I suck at my own language’ moment here since he probably doesn’t know the word 構図 or ‘kouzu’ (composition), so he relates it to another similar-sounding word being 坊主 ‘bouzu’, which is either a Buddhist priest or can be used to refer to a shaved head. :p In my translation, I chose a word which sounds similar to ‘composition’ in English, rather than translating the Japanese word.
#diabolik lovers#dialovers#ayato sakamaki#carla tsukinami#lunatic parade#diabolik lovers translation#lpayatosubcarla
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Better Now
Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.
A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.
Word Count: 2.6k
And away, and away we go!
__
Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.
“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”
“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.
“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.
“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”
“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.
“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”
“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”
“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.
Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”
“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”
She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”
Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”
“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”
Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”
She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”
“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”
There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”
“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”
“Y/N.”
“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”
“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”
Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”
“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”
Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”
Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”
Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.
She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”
“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”
“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”
“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”
“Not in a band, huh?”
“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”
“That’s gotta get lonely.”
“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”
She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“Go for it.”
“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”
“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”
“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”
“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”
“That’s the hardest part.”
“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”
“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.
“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”
“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”
“Good luck, Y/N.”
~~~
Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.
She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”
She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.
“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”
She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.
“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.
“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”
He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.
There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”
“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”
“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”
“Unfathomable.”
“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”
“Lucky you.”
He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”
“That’s rough.”
“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”
“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”
“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”
“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”
He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”
She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.
~~~
Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.
When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.
“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.
“It’s done?”
“It’s done!”
“Well, hit play! C’mon!”
For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.
“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.
“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”
“And other times?”
“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”
She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”
“Please, don’t.”
“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”
“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”
“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”
~~~
7 Months Later
Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”
“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”
“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”
“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.
“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”
“Better than I’ve ever been.”
__
Tag List
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Rollin with the Flow
AN: this is dedicated to my bby @kindahoping4forever ilysm and I hope you feel better 😌😌😌 pic credits to Bella Hadid and my main tater thot
Requested: nope :)
Warnings: smut this is Ashton and Marina lolll
Word Count: 1.9k words
Ashton walked in the house eating his breakfast sandwich and stopped his chewing. It was surprisingly cool. A few days ago, the AC had stopped working and being the forgetful man he was, he put it off. That was until his three year old gremlin, Max, bit him in frustration because he couldn’t take the heat. So he and Marina sent him off to Michael’s so he can play with Ethan and have some air conditioning.
Marina's cackle filled their house. He waited a few seconds to figure out where her laugh was coming from. After hearing her laugh one more time, he pinpointed her to the backyard. He kept walking until he found her nodding along to whatever the unknown man said.
He felt his jaw clench, seeing her only dressed in a blue and green bikini, oblivious to the man's oggleling. Unconsciously, he unbuttoned his white button up shirt and draped it over Marina’s shoulders. Ashton kissed her shoulder. He nodded his head to the man and asked, “Who’s this?”
“This is Scott. He came to fix the AC since someone almost made it explode.” Marina teased him, oblivious to Ashton’s actions. She slipped her hands in the sleeves and hugged the shirt.
“Is he almost done?” Ashton asked her.
“Just about.” Scott the repairman said, crouched behind the giant box.
“I’m gonna go inside.” Marina mumbled. She squeezed one of Ashton’s hands and went inside.
About five minutes later, Ashton curtly thanked the repairman and slammed the front door shut.
“How’s our gremlin?” Marina asked him while stacked some vinyls.
“Our gremlin is now Michael's problem.” Ashton said, tiptoeing his way to the green couch.
She sat on the floor of their living room, rearranging her vinyls that Ashton thought was a good idea to mix in with his. She had the best system for arranging her record collection. No could compete with rainbow order. She neatly gathered her pile of reds and got up to get her composition notebook to write the order she had.
He laid on his back and watched her. “Why did you call someone to come fix the air conditioner?”
“I was this close to walking around naked.”
“Then my plan is going accordingly.” he smiled, leaning on his side to kiss her, but she swerved him. He scoffed and rolled back on his back. “What time should we go get Max?”
“Later, around dinner time. He’ll be tired from running around with Michael and Fiona's dogs.” She got on her knees and pushed her pile off to the side and grabbed the orange stack. She felt Ashton’s eyes on her so she tied the ends of his shirt, making it an oversized crop top. She bent over again and posed as if Ashton was going to fuck her from behind. She felt a sharp pain on her left ass cheek and looked over her shoulder.
“You’re not very subtle.” Ashton commented, paging through a magazine that Marina was on the cover.
“Neither are you.” She smiled sweetly at him before going back to her work.
A half hour later, Marina finished organizing. She stood on her knees proudly looking over her neat color coordinated piles. Only she didn’t have anywhere to put her records. Before Ashton stole them and added them to his collections, she used to store them in a metal trunk that slowly turned into Max’s toy trunk.
“You think building an IKEA bookshelf is at your skill level? Since calling someone to come fix the air conditioning wasn’t.” She asked him.
Ashton turned to her. His face read along the lines of slightly stunned and slightly insulted because she assumed that he couldn’t build a simple bookshelf.
“It's my skill level,” he scoffed defensively. His face relaxed into an innocent smile. “I’m just afraid you’re going to jump me halfway and beg me to have my way with you like the time I built Max’s crib.”
“Excuse you, I was thirty weeks pregnant. My hormones were all over the place. Pregnant me was a whole different person than the person kindly asking you to build her a lovely bookshelf.”
“If you say so,” he grumbled.
He pulled her into a quick, but knee weakening kiss and got up. He went upstairs to change out of his skinny jeans into some basketball shorts. When he returned, Marina was nowhere in sight and there was a giant IKEA box in the middle of the living room. Ashton mumbled a few colorful words about being swindled into building her furniture and grabbed his tool box from the guest room where he was installing new lighting fixtures.
From the guest room he spotted Marina rubbing on sunscreen. He watched her push down his shirt and rubbed some on her shoulders. His shorts tightened as he kept watching her. He fixed the growing tent under his shorts and went back to the living room.
Ashton grabbed one of her records, knowing she was going to come back inside and remind him that if he wants to play one of her records all he has to do is. He carefully placed it on the record player and turned up the volume as the first song played.
Every so often he would peek out to the yard and check on Marina. It truly surprised him that she hasn't barged in yet. The record was almost ready to get flipped so it can play on the other side. He noticed that she had her headphones on while she drew on her notebook. Annoyed, he continued his work and stopped asking for her attention.
***
Marina frowned and loudly shut her notebook. Ashton had been hard at work and he hadn’t made a snarky remark to her. She got up from the lounge chair and went inside. She made a show of parading in front of Ashton, but he didn’t even glance at her.
She grabbed a homemade popsicle, courtesy of Ashton’s fruit trees and garden. She took off his shirt and pulled off her bikini top, putting back on his shirt. She grabbed one of her books off the counter and went to the living room. She sat criss-cross applesauce on their green couch and shamelessly watched him until he looked up.
He didn’t.
The sticky substance slowly dripped down her hand. Marina sighed, the only sticky substance she wanted on her hand should be coming from Ashton ,but he was being a good boyfriend and building her bookshelf. She huffed, knowing that Ashton wasn’t going to give her any attention any time soon, she cleaned up her mess.
She slipped whatever was left on the popsicle in her mouth and sucked on it until she was sure there wasn’t going to be any dripage. She pulled it out and slipped it back once she felt a cold drop fall on her thigh.
“You’re the most obvious person ever.” Ashton chuckled. “Just say you want to choke on my cock.”
“What?” Marina blinked at him, confused.
“What?” He mocked her. He laughed sarcastically. “But lucky for you. I’m done.”
Ashton sat next to her, taking her popsicle. He candidly ate her popsicle, reminding her of how masterful his tongue is.
“And lucky for you, I’m feeling in a thankful mood.” Marina smiled sweetly at him.
She grabbed one of their decorative pillows and placed it on the ground. She gently pushed Ashton back as she situated herself in between his thighs. She playfully spanked his ass, motioning him to drop his shorts. He gave her a pointed look and pushed his hips up, pulling down his shirts to his ankles.
Marina giggled as his cock bounced off his stomach. She sat closer to his exposed cock and adjusted the pillow so it sat in between her thighs. She slowly kissed up its length. She greedily slipped him in her mouth. She moaned out in pleasure as he hit the back of her throat. Her hips followed the pace her mouth went.
Ashton’s low curses became full-on grunts and moans. One of his hands gripped her hair, keeping her in place as he thrusted into her mouth. Marina let out soft moans. One of her hands was already playing with herself. Her other hand gripped one of his legs, nails digging into his thighs, keeping her up. Minutes later he gently pulled out his cock from her.
Before she protested, Ashton patted the green shouch. “Hands and knees.”
Marina nodded and knelt in front of one of the arm chairs. Her fingers shook in excitement as she tried to unbutton Ashton’s shirt. She was about to push it off her shoulders, but she felt his hand on her. He leaned forward and kissed up her neck.
“Leave it on. You know, I like fucking you with my clothes on you.” He whispered in her ear. “Ready?”
Marina nodded eagerly. She looked over her shoulder and pulled him into a kiss. But she pulled away before her back cramped up. She draped herself over the armrest and waited for him. Before she did anything, he yanked her bikini bottom to side and shoved himself in her in one satisfying thrust.
Ashton pulled out and pushed himself in her once more. His hands gripped her waist as he slowly rocked into her. He twisted his shirt around his hand, using it so Marina could stay up right. As the minutes passed, his thrusts got rougher, and Marina couldn’t hold back. She begged Ashton to keep fucking her at that deliciously slow and rough pace she loved. He leaned over, his chest against her back.
“Fuck.” Ashton moaned out.
His lips kissed all over her neck as he continued to fuck Marina. She rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts.
“That’s it, take me so good, angel.” He groaned in her ear. Ashton shifted his hips as he thrusted into her. The new angle hit her in that spot that made her beg for him.
“Please, fuck—”
She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went back down to her clit. Ashton worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Marina.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. Ashton’s orgasm followed soon after. He cried her name and pushed himself deep inside Marina, spilling every last drop in her.
“I love you so much, angel.” Ashton mumbled against her lips.
“I love you too,” Marina giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
They kissed like they had all the time in the world. Their giggles bounced off the walls as their teasing touches became playful. Ashton blew raspberries all over her stomach. Marina gasped for air, trying to make him stop.
A low buzz came from the top of the shelf. Ashton cursed and pushed himself off the bed. Michael’s face appeared on the screen.
“‘Llo?” he answered.
“Your son and I are outside your door. Could you please—”
“Shit, give us a minute.” Ashton hung up. He pulled on his shorts.
“You said you were picking him up.” Marina whisper-yelled.
“I was.” He argued. Marina sprinted upstairs to change while he went to get the door. “Sorry, we were building a bookshelf and got really into it.” He said opening the door to Max and Michael.
“More like you got into Marina.” Michael teased.
“My house is cold again.” Max clapped before taking off his shoes. He tossed them to Ashton and ran to the kitchen.
“We were building a bookshelf.” Ashton argued.
Michael snorted and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and the moans that I heard were what?”
TAGLIST: @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @calpops @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @mulletcal @sexgodashton @sunshinebabycal @another-lonely-heart @fckingpernico
Special guests: @twilightmomentswithyou @rebelwith0utacause @littledrummeraussie @mulletgate @wastelandcth
#ashton irwin smut#ashton irwin imagine#ashton irwin one shot#ashton irwin fanfiction#ashton irwin series#dad!ash
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Eren X Armin “Fuck Away the Pain” Chapter 2
“Angel Among Humans”
The next morning leads to an interesting story to Eren's past.
This chapter uses the song “Somebody Out There” by A Rocket to the Moon
*also quick note.
My story is also on Ao3 the link is below I would love it if y’all showed it some love on there too
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809192?view_full_work=true
Eren woke up groaning burying his face back into the pillows. "Reiner!" Eren waited for his roomate's response and when he got nothing, “Seriously Reiner? What the fu-" Eren finally sat up and rubbed his eyes before realizing this wasn't his room. He looked around the Ocean blue room and took in the decor. Various sized seashells covered the dresser and windowsill, by the window there was a hammock hanging from the ceiling. Looking above him he saw the strings of lights covering the ceiling. Eren smiled at the charm the room held before furrowing his eyebrows and rubbing his head, "What happened last night?" Just then Armin, just wearing sweatpants, walked in with two mugs in hand and everything came flooding back. His eyes widened as he looked down at himself and saw he was only in his boxers.
"We didn't do anything if that's what your little freakout's about." Armin chuckled, "You just came over to sleep. I guess you lost track of your roommate after the show. Coffee?" Armin sat down next to Eren on the bed before handing him one of the mugs. Eren smiled taking the coffee before leaning in and pressing his lips to Armin’s gently. Wrapping an arm around Eren’s neck Armin signed softly into the kiss. "Good morning to you too Eren." Armin said as they pulled away from the kiss. The two of them chuckled leaning their foreheads’ against each other's. They finish their coffees setting the mugs down on the nightstand. Eren grabs Armin by the waist pulling him onto his lap. Armin's face goes red as he wraps his arms around Eren’s neck.
"Kiss me.” Eren all but demands as he looks deep into Armin’s eyes. Armin leaned down pressing his lips against Eren’s sighing. Eren groans as he trails one of his hands up Armin's back pulling him closer. "I wouldn't be able to convince you to skip the library today would I?" Eren breathes out in between kisses. Armin giggles as he pulls back. "I'm taking that as a no?" Eren frowns and falls back on the bed.
"I'm already behind on my thesis, and you have yours to work on too!" Armin smiles as he pulls his hair back and puts it up in his signature messy bun. "You can come back over tonight if you'd like. But I need to get dressed." Armin leans down pressing a chaste kiss to Eren’s lips before getting up and walking over to his closet. "Do you need to go home and change?"
“What you don't like my look anymore?" Eren chuckles folding his hands behind his head, "Yea I need to get my laptop and everything too, I'd like to come back tonight if the offer’s there." He looks up at the lights, "I want to see these at night." Eren got up and started getting dressed in last nights’ outfit.
"Oh quiet, you know that's not what I meant." Armin walked out of the closet with a yawn. He had a white button-up on under a blue striped sweater, paired with faded blue skinny jeans. Armin walked over to his dresser and rummaged through one of the drawers for a pair of socks, "I just don't know how well a mesh crop top goes over at the library. I'd offer something of mine but I think you're a little too tall to fit." Grabbing a pair of navy blue socks to match his sweater he walked to the bed and sat down. He pulled on his socks and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "I don't think Mikasa came home last night, hope she's okay." He went to his messages and shot Mikasa a text.
Eren chuckles, crawling on the bed behind Armin before kissing his head, "I think you just don't want others to see. I'm ready to go whenever you are blondie." Eren nuzzled his face into Armin’s neck, "I just hope Reiner doesn't embarrass me at my place. Please don't take anything he says seriously okay?" Eren wraps an arm around Armin’s waist feeling him nod. “You ready to go?" Eren asks as Armin finishes putting his black doc martens on.
"Yea let's get going to your place, I want to get a window seat at the library." Armin grabs his keys and school bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The door opens to reveal a disheveled looking Mikasa. She groans and drops her keys on the table. "Mikasa! You're okay! Where were you?! I was worried sick!" Armin rushes over to her and hugs her tightly. "You look like you got hit by a bus."
"Thanks Armin, that's so nice of you." Mikasa rolls her eyes as she rubs her head. "That bassist sure knows how to put them down and here I thought I had a-" Mikasa notices Eren walk out of Armin’s room and her eyes widen. "Oh my god, Armin! Are you feeling okay? You never go out and all of a sudden you bring a guy home?!?"She places her hand on his forehead as a mother would before being swatted away by Armin.
“Knock it off Mikasa, nothing even happened, he just slept over. But you must be perfectly fine seeing how you can still flip out over nothing. Eren c'mon let's go." Armin walks out the door and heads downstairs. Eren scratches the back of his neck before following after him. Armin grunts as he tosses his bag in the back seat of his car. "I love Mikasa but my god is she suffocating." He slams the car door shut and sighs.
Eren chuckles, "I think it's sweet she's so caring. Not everyone has a friend like that." Eren walks to the driver's door and opens it for Armin. Armin smiles at him walking over to his door going up on his toes pressing a kiss to Eren’s cheek. He gets in the car and fumbles with his keys as Eren walks to the passenger side. As Eren gets in, Armin starts the car and starts driving towards Eren’s apartment following the GPS's directions. Eren reaches over placing a hand on Armin’s thigh gently rubbing his thumb in little circles. Armin smiles and grabs his hand intertwining their fingers bringing their hands up to his lips. He presses his lips against the back of Eren’s hand. Eren blushes slightly and looks out the window.
~~~~
"Reiner please be dressed!" Eren called out as he opens the door to the apartment, he walked in with Armin in tow. Reiner rolls his eyes from the couch and stuck his middle finger up at Eren. "Oh thank god, for once you're decent. Reiner this is Armin, Armin this is my roommate Reiner he's kinda like my big brother." Armin and Reiner nod to each other before Reiner turns his attention back to the TV. "Good talk." Eren shakes his head grabbing Armin’s hand leading him to his room down the hall.
Armin looks around Eren’s room, the walls covered in band posters of Rock and Grunge bands Armin’s never heard of, the ceiling outlined with a color-changing light strip. One wall seemed dedicated to trippy posters that change colors with the lights and one corner by the bed had an acoustic guitar propped up on a stand. Even just looking at the two rooms all Armin could think is how different they are. Armin sat down on the bed while Eren slipped off his shirt. Armin stared pulling his lower lip between his teeth. He lets his eyes wander down Eren’s back before Eren walks to his closet and is out of view.
Eren walks back into view putting half his hair up in a ponytail. He's got a black button-up on with a white band t-shirt over it with black ripped jeans. He walked over to his vanity and opened his little box for his piercings. He changes out his eyebrow ring for an all-black one and put in his lip rings, one on each side of his lower lip. He quickly adjusted his skewed nose ring and grabbed a pair of socks from the drawer. He sat next to Armin who was just staring, "Like what you see love?" Eren winked at him before pressing his lips against Armin’s roughly. He ran his thumb along Armin’s cheek before pulling his socks on quickly and sliding on a pair of worn black vans. "Okay, I'm ready to go." Eren grabs his backpack then Armin’s hand and walks out of the apartment.
~~~~
"Oh perfect! There's still window seats open!" Armin drags Eren to the tables at the window and sets his stuff down on the table. He opens his laptop and rushes over to a section of books and grabs the few books he needs. Eren sat himself down at the table pulling his laptop out along with studio-grade headphones slipping them on his head leaving one ear free. Armin came back and set the books down and sat down himself. He went to start working on his thesis before pausing and looking over at Eren. "Hey, you never told me your major, or what your thesis is on."
"I'm a music major, big surprise, my thesis setup is probably a little different than yours. It’s for my composition class so basically, I'm composing a song. Though I'm struggling, they want it to tell a story." Eren leans back in his chair, scratching at the back of his neck, "Problem is,the topics we have to pick from I have no experience with." He looked over at Armin who was resting his head on his hand smiling gently. Eren looked down awkwardly and cleared his throat, “Heh, sorry I didn't mean to prattle on like that...." He looked back up at Armin smiling, "You're really easy to talk to, Blondie.”
"No I know you a little better now. Besides I guarantee my thesis will sound dull to you in comparison." Armin chuckled as Eren gestured for him to elaborate. "Well, I'm doing a thesis on Upper Ocean and Submesoscale Processes." Armin laughed lightly seeing Eren’s raise an eyebrow in confusion. "It’s interactions of ocean currents with other bodies of water, to put it simply. I'm an oceanography major after all remember?" Armin tucked one of the bits of hair that fell out of his bun behind his ear. “When you finish your song, will you show me? I'd love to hear it." He smiled as Eren nodded before he grabbed one of the books and opened it.
Eren taps his pencil on the table to the instrumental playing through his headphones, and his eyes drift to Armin. He fixes his gaze on Armin’s eyes, smiling at the faint glow behind them. He lets his eyes wander down Armin’s face as he rests his head on his free hand. His eyes catch on Armin’s lip he's chewing on in concentration before taking in the whole view; Armin flipping through pages of 3 different books while taking notes on his laptop, more strands of Armin’s hair having fallen from his bun now frame his face. Armin looks up catching Eren’s stare and his cheeks flush pink as he smiles. Eren felt his heart stop and skip a few beats seeing Armin as nothing short of an angel. "That doesn't look like you're getting any work done." Armin teased giggling lightly before turning back to his book with a small smile.
Eren dragged a hand down his face as a sole thought makes its way to the front of his mind. He scrolls through his recorded instrumentals settling on a simple light sound and putting it on loop. Eren pulls the assignment up on his laptop and stares at one of the possible prompts intently. 'A longing love story’ Eren‘s face drops and he grabs his lyric notebook and titles the new song, ‘Somebody Out There’
"Oh hi Professor Ackerman, what brings you to the library on a weekend?" Armin asks his head slightly tilted to the side. Eren's eyes shoot open before he brings a hand to his forehead to try and hide his face.
"Armin please you can call me Levi, Professor sounds old." Levi says dryly with a stack of books under one arm. His eyes shift to Eren and one of his eyebrows flicks up before he rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not I still enjoy coming to the library to read. Working on your thesis?" Levi asks causing Armin to nod. Levi lets out a sigh. "I can tell it's you Eren. Glad to see you're doing well." He deadpans as Eren lowers his hand shifting his gaze to the table. Armin's eyes shift between the two confused. "Well, I'll quit intruding on your guys’ little study date. Armin, I'll see you in class Tuesday." Levi saunters off to a far corner.
Armin looks at Eren seeing his unease and deciding it not be the best time to ask. "Hey, I'm getting kinda hungry, wanna take a break and go grab some food?" Eren nods silently and puts away his things. Armin takes his books to the shelf he found them on and walks over to Eren, ”You don't have to tell me but are you okay?" He asks cautiously as he places a hand on Eren’s shoulder. Eren places his hand on Armin‘s letting out a sigh and nodding. He stands up as he gently pushes Armin’s hand off his shoulder.
"What do you wanna eat? It's my treat." Eren asks as he walks to Armin grabbing his hand. Eren frowns seeing Armin’s distressed look before sighing. "Levi's my ex-fling, we ended things a few weeks ago. That's all Blondie." Eren groans seeing that the distressed look didn't leave Armin's face. "You know what I'll just go." Eren throws his bag on his shoulder and rushes out of the library before Armin can say anything.
~~~~~
That Thursday Armin let Historia talk him into getting coffee with her and Ymir. Ymir rests her head on her hand frowning at Armin. "I can't believe Eren’s still keeping out of touch with you. He was so smitten with you the night we all met." Armin shrugged running his thumb along the brim of his mug. "I get his ex showing up makes things awkward but still." Ymir lifts her head up as an idea pops into her head. "Why don't you come to his performance? Part of our grade is performing our originals and he's performing tomorrow. I can sneak you in and you can talk to him after, I mean he'll be pissed at me but at least you might be able to talk it out."
"You know what? Yeah, besides he owes me lunch." Armin chuckles before sipping his hot cocoa. He smiled watching Historia’s eyes light up while she talked with Ymir. "Hey did he tell you what his song was about? I never had a chance to ask." Armin asked to which Ymir shook her head.
"Guess we're both in for a surprise."
~~~~
Armin’s sat on the ground in front of Mikasa who's braiding his bangs and pinning them along the side of his head while they wait for Ymir to get Armin. He's got on an emerald green t-shirt under a black cardigan with a pair of black chino pants. Armin slips on a pair of black Chelsea boots and checks the time. ‘She should be here.’ Just as he finishes his thought he hears a loud knock come from the door. Armin grabs his messenger bag and walks to the door. He waves to Mikasa before opening the door and leaves the apartment with Ymir. They sneak into the classroom and sit in the middle of the classroom.
~~~~
"Eren! Wake up!" Reiner throws a water bottle at Eren to wake him up. "You've got your thesis performance today!" Eren groans raising an arm to flip off Reiner before sitting up. "I'll make some coffee. Good luck today bro.” Reiner leaves the room to make Eren some coffee. Eren signs as he gets up and walks to his closet. He grabs a random grey sweater and a pair of black jeans with holes in the knees before quickly getting dressed. He threw on a black beanie,a pair of black socks, and his worn-out black vans. He grabbed his backpack and guitar case leaving his room to be greeted with a travel mug of coffee. He mumbles out a 'thanks' before taking the coffee and heads out the door.
Eren quietly drinks his coffee on the bus with his earbuds in, his current obsession being 'You Me At Six'. His mind wanders to Armin and he frowns as he looks out the window. 'He's too good for me.' is the main thought that takes over his brain when he thinks of the precious blonde. He finishes his coffee and tucks the mug in his bag as he tries focusing on the music blasting in his ears. But, a certain blonde has taken residence in the forefront of Eren’s brain. Resting his head against the window Eren becomes plagued with the sound of Armin’s laugh and the way Armin looked at him as they pulled away from a kiss. He lets out a frustrated sigh, 'I hope he doesn't resent me for Saturday, I just would've hurt him eventually. I always hurt them no matter what I do...’ He gets off the bus at his school and makes his way to his classroom with his head down. He sits down near the front and rests his head on his hand taking out one of his earbuds.
"Today we will be finishing the performances and out of the remaining students who have to go looks like only one is here. Looks like it'll be a short class today so Yeager you're up."
Eren grabs his guitar out of his case and makes his way to the front of the class. He sits in the chair and quickly double-checks the tuning on his guitar. He takes a deep breath before he starts playing looking down at his hands. "You deserve someone who listens to you, hears every word, and knows what to do. When you're feeling hopeless lost and confused, there's somebody out there who will."
Eren looks up with his eyes closed and a small frown on his face. “You need a man who holds you for hours, make your friends jealous when he brings you flowers. And laughs when he says they don't have love like ours, there‘s somebody out there who will.” Eren opens his eyes as he looks around the classroom. His eyes meet Armin’s and his heart skips a beat, keeping eye contact with Armin he continues singing “There's somebody out there who's looking for you, someday he'll find you, I swear that its true.” Eren’s eyes tear up as he sings the next line. "He's gonna kiss you and you'll feel the world stand still, there's somebody out there who will."
Armin’s eyes are glued to Eren the moment he walked in the door. While Eren was getting ready to perform, Armin folded his arms on the table in front of him and rests his chin on top of his hands. He lets out a small hum as Eren starts playing, Armin’s eyes wandering down to Eren’s hands. Slowly becoming mesmerized by the way his hands bend to play before shaking his head and looking back up in time to lock eyes with Eren. Armin lifted his head off his hands as he refused to break eye contact. His eyes widened seeing the tears form in Eren’s eyes.
Eren looked away from Armin closing his eyes tightly causing his brows to furrow. “He'll take you dancing and pull you in close, spin you around, and won't let you go, till they turn the lights off and he'll take you home. There's somebody out there who will." He opens his eyes looking off to the side the pained expression still present on his face. “There's somebody out there who's looking for you, someday he'll find you I swear that it's true. He's gonna kiss you and you'll feel the world stand still, there's somebody out there who will."
Eren looks back at Armin with a sad smile before continuing. “Tossing and turning and dreaming at night, about finding him and praying and hoping you might. 'Cause you deserve someone who knows how to treat you right, I know he's out there he's looking for you. Someday he'll find you I swear that it's true, and he's gonna kiss you and you'll feel the world stand still." He keeps his eyes on Armin as he finishes his song. "Oh, you need some who'll miss you, hold you, and kiss you. There's somebody out there who will." He stands up and puts his guitar back in its case.
The class erupts in applause, Eren’s performances are always something the class looks forward to, as Armin gets up and runs up to Eren. Armin throws his arms around Eren’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. "You're a damn idiot, Eren.” Armin mumbles resting his head on Eren's shoulder. "You owe me an explanation."
Eren chuckles as he wraps his arms around Armin’s waist tightly, "Yeah, I've heard that before." He leans his head against Armin’s holding the blonde as close as he can. Eren lets his eyes flutter shut while running one hand up to the back of Armin’s neck. "I know I do, I just can't believe you're here right now."
The class gets dismissed, Ymir hands Armin his bag before giving Eren a 'Don’t fuck this up again' look and she walks out the classroom calling Historia. The two settle on a small, quiet coffee shop near the college to talk. They sit in a corner booth practically closed off from the rest of the coffee shop. Eren sighs as he gathers his thoughts, before he can say anything Armin speaks up. "Look, I think I kinda get what happened, especially after your song, but I don't like when people make my choices for me." Armin looked over at Eren, "I mean no one has ever made me feel so special before, and I was with Jean since sophomore year in high school.",
"I'm not a good person Armin, I don't even know how to do the whole dating or boyfriend thing." Eren cuts Armin off before he can say anything else. "I've never done it. I mean I- I banged Levi for 3 months just ‘cause I thought it'd be fun, knowing he wanted more. You're an angel in comparison, I don't deserve that not after how many people I've hurt." Eren fixes his gaze on his mug refusing to meet Armin’s eyes.
"Who cares? Eren there's a reason it's called the past. It's past you, what good does it do to sulk over it? All you can do is learn from it now, you can't change it." Armin grabs Eren’s chin gently turning his face towards his before he leans in and presses his lips to Eren’s. As he pulls away from the kiss Armin gives Eren the same look that's plagued his mind since they first kissed. Resting his forehead on Eren’s, Armin smiles, "Just so you know I do plan on making fun of you for the whole 'sleeping with my professor' thing for a while." Eren chuckles lightly, a smile forming on his lips. "You want to be with me, yes or no?" Armin asks leaning closer so their lips are just inches apart.
Muttering a 'fuck it' under his breath, Eren grabs the back of Armin’s neck and closes the distance between their lips in a rough kiss. Eren pulls away just enough to talk, "More than anything Blondie," Armin hums in agreement as he grabs Eren’s collar before pulling him back into the kiss, both of them smiling against each other's lips.
'Damn Blondie what’re you doing to me?'
#eren x armin#attack on titan#attack on titan fanfiction#eren yeager#eren jeager#armin arlert#eremin#justjoccesaotfic
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I have a prompt idea if you’re down, no rush at all! I just love the idea of rk1k meeting in college & it just being the first time either of them experience this real and deep love for someone. Like Connor is more on the reserved side & maybe was a lil sheltered, & while Markus is more outgoing he still approaches their relationship very carefully at the start. Both of their feelings for one another develop so strong so quickly, & maybe it scares them a bit and they don’t want to admit it to the other at first just how deeply they’ve fallen for each other because their relationship is still rather new, but it just ends up evolving into this really powerful/beautiful relationship. Can u tell I’m feeling soft rn lol
It's okay Anon, we'll be soft together.
When Connor first enters college, he's still awkward and feels like this is highschool 2.0 all over again. He has no high hopes of it being better than the good times (sharing anecdotes and movie quips with Kara and Chloe in Drama class) or worst than the bad times he experienced (bullying he experienced at the hands of Gavin Reed c/o the varsity football team and fighting with his own closeted feelings).
Connor expected his experiences to just...be.
Connor didn't come here for a good time; he didn't come here for any sort of time. All he intends to do is finish his criminology degree within these four years and dip.
Within a couple of months, he's more sure of himself. He's met some good friends like Simon and Daniel, and Simon's main squeeze, Josh. Daniel and he are best bitches 4 life at the start. He then meets North in English composition and the same happens all over again. The boss WLW and MLM solidarity were real.
He grows into himself with his friends. Now recognizes that he's a hot, gay bitch that has little time for messy people and likes to keep it that way.
He wears a camouflage of the 'shy, sweet type' so he can move around and be unseen easily even as he is constantly on the swivel, partly why he decided to become a detective: he was perfect for it.
His dad thought so too. Had said he would be so dangerous in their respective field because of how he was. He knew Connor was fucking manipulative and maniacal with the cutesy face and dangerous martial arts he'd learned-he'd raised him ofc. That adorable face was a damned front and Hank would guffaw when people fell for it.
Gavin Reed was the first to get his comeuppance senior year of high school and learn this. Connor had played the scared, shy guy- he'd then proceeded to beat the sounds and colors right out of Gavin's raggedy ass.
Now Connor had a damned fan. That bitch followed him to college he was so sprung n that ass whooping. Maybe he gave him brain damage?
Connor ignored him like he did everyone else on campus he wasn't trying to see. He remained reserved and clean-cut. Very few had seen the real him.
Connor had also vowed to not look for a relationship with anyone either in college. Bootycalls? Okay. Something to scratch that itch so he could remain focus on his studies, alright, but not a whole romantic situation.
Connor was just trying to get rid of Gavin for the umpteenth time since this year had started and of fucking course the rest of the football team was there. Gavin didn't know the meaning of "no" and "personal space" and was going to press the issue.
Here steps forward this God of a man. He checks Gavin and Connor's heart in a couple of words.
Gavin's threatened; Connor's titillated.
Markus Manfred enters stage left.
Stupid Markus Manfred and his stupid face, and his stupid heterochromia and stupid kissable mouth. Literally, fuck this dude.
No, literally, fuck him against some fucking lockers in the locker room after Markus winning game right now, get in him, because, because...
God, the way Markus chased his mouth with his own. The way he'd been stripped and lifted as he weighed next to nothing, the quick yet superb preparation on the fly and then the feeling of him quickly and effectively just getting inside... Connor's one leg shook with the stimulus, his other loosely hung around Markus waist for dear life.
Rip to his pants.
He can feel how he's being physically jostled by the other's larger hands, one on his side, the other under his thigh and it's just-
Connor's face is hot and flushed and he knows it. His damned eyes keep fluttering like he's seizing, mouth open and quite possibly drooling like he cannot control his facial muscles, control the noises pouring out of himself as every stroke inside of him touches that one sensitive spot just right.
His nails bite into Markus beautiful copper skin, flecked in freckles as Connor yells out his joyous release to everyone within a three-mile radius.
When it's said and done, they both had to recap how they even got into this scenario.
Neither were complaining, not really, just really taken aback that had happened out of the blue like that and felt so natural. Markus had been chiding Gavin about being a creep, to which Connor amended he was a stalking creep. It hadn't flown over we'll with Markus since he was the captain of the team.
Gav was hazed, he was pissed and retreated. They had stayed and talked to each other. Just talked. Markus invited him to that evening game to which Connor advised he'd already be at because he was a band member. It was early and they had parted but that whole day was filled with happenstance's of Markus appearance and talking to him. The pull had been strong.
The attraction was overwhelming and it was a bit terrifying for both parties to admit. They had just been talking to each other. Nothing significant or substantial.
Markus felt maybe he was riding a gaming win high along with his obvious attraction to Connor.
Connor felt like maybe it was mutual attraction and appreciation for him.
They both left it at that. Where Connor had not seen Markus before, he now began seeing him everywhere: in passing, in some classes, he acts as a student assistant for additional credit and functions.
Connor being in the college band and having a very beautiful jock show him this sort of attention was flattering he has to admit, and that he's a bit curious about him.
Markus asks him out on an official date.
Connor really wants to scoff at him because the scared, nerdy kid inside of him says this is a trap, he's doing this for an elaborate prank, that this is somehow tied to Gavin and you will regret this.
Connor has a hard time believing that someone that looks like Markus would genuinely be interested in a person like him. Then again, he had just blown his back out magnificently not that long ago.
Markus is all warm and fuzzy, bubbly and chipper and Connor gets drunk on the free serotonin every time they meet.
He takes the plunge and says yes to the date and has never regretted it.
The conversation is immaculate, the expectations realistic and superb, and Markus is not just a jock: he's down to earth, adopted into money but lives simply. He wants to be a painter like his dad...
His father is the Carl Manfred, the famous painter and Connor feels like he had an aneurysm.
Connor tells Markus about his Lieutenant Dad, Henry 'Hank' Anderson. How he was the youngest lieutenant on the Detroit police force and Markus stupidly and excitedly smiles and says "I know! I was such a fan of your dad. He helped my dad when art thieves were stealing one-of-a-kind art from the museum!"
Connor is so damned smitten with this lovely creature that it's insane. He thinks he really might lo..like Markus a lot.
Connor's thoughts derail at the word choice a scowl on his face. What was he, 10?
Markus would run away so damned fast if he said those words to him. Just because they'd been going out and now regularly intimate didn't make it love, right? Why, then, did it bother Connor that it felt so right only with this man?
Markus notices the sour disposition Connor has, tries to get him back into the conversation, and even though Connor says he's okay, Markus knows that he's withdrawn from the conversation fully.
Unbeknownst to Connor, Markus had his strong feelings as well over the matter.
He was feeling Connor hard. It blindsided him and he knew that he needed to talk about this with Connor, lest one or both of them get hurt.
They both had fallen hard, much harder than they thought they would.
Instead of that talk Markus promised himself he was mature and level-headed enough for them both to have or even Connor just acknowledging the truth of the matter, they left the relationship in a sort of limbo, as is, neither wanting to face that four-letter word headlong in such a brutally honest way, fear that maybe just maybe what each of them had been feeling wasn't that and neither wanted the hurt if it wasn't L O V E.
I have more ideas on this one but I'll cut it for now because it's huge for a Tumblr post, lol. If it gets some interest, I have no problem with continuing it in another post of my own. HMU if you do like like. 😘
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Regina Coeli, Regina Infernum
Pairing: Boyking!Sam Winchester x Reader x Knightofhell!Dean Winchester
Prompt: If you really wanna try it, experiment on me *Sense-Taste
Word Count: 3213
Warnings: 18+ cursing, dirty talk, flirting m/m f/m, kissing m/m m/f, oral m/f giving/receiving, p/v, p/a, dp m/f/m, grace/blood consumption, mentions of death/killing, wincest(kissing only)
**Blasphemy for content- if you are offended by religious tenets or altering of religious tenets please skip this story.
A/N: This is the original version I wrote for #bees5Ksenseschallange before realizing it was way over the max word limit. I’m linking the toned down other version too.
Edited version
Please drop me a comment, it’s appreciated.
A/N II: Latin terms: Puer Rex Infernum-boy king of hell. Regina Coeli- queen of heaven, Regina Infernum-queen of hell. Yeah, my Latin sucks
Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway -I flipped original version for story.
*no beta, all mistakes are mine
Sam entered the room without acknowledging his council walked straight to his throne throwing himself onto it.
“Get out.” He said flatly. They looked at each other confused. “Sir, you summoned us here...” The demon exploded in a cloud of fire and smoke before finishing.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” Sam kept his voice level as he raised his left hand and placed his thumb against his middle finger ready to snap the rest of these sycophants out of existence.
Bowing deeply his subordinates back out of the room as fast as possible.
“What crawled up your ass and died today Sammy?” A disembodied voice inquired from a dark corner.
“Watch your mouth or you can get the hell out too Dean.” Sam says abrasively, not in the mood for his brother.
“Hey, I’m just concerned about you. That’s the fourth time this week you’ve called in the council and blew someone up.”
Sam tipped his head back, closing his eyes against the throbbing pain he felt. He barely hears the soughing of Dean's jeans coming towards him.
When he was human, Dean generally was loud on a regular basis unless they were hunting. As a demon, his brother can move so silently even the hell hounds, with their superior auditory senses, can’t detect him.
Dean stops next to his beautiful brother studying him. The strain of ruling hell by himself was showing the longer he sat upon this throne alone.
It had been over five decades since the Demon Curing Ritual had rendered Dean’s restraints useless allowing him to escape. After using a sigil to dispatch Castiel, he hunted Sam mercilessly throughout the bunker before knocking him out with that hammer.
Dean hauled his brother back to the dungeon and after securing him to the chair raided the infirmary searching for the blood transfusion equipment. He ignored a pleading Sam, finally begging to allow him finish the cure.
“Dean, I love you.”
He paused.
Dean’s green eyes shined with all the love he had always felt for his little brother, even before he was born saying, ”I love you too Sammy, but I like the disease,” proceeds to infuse him, pumping tainted blood until he couldn’t pass any more from his body, then sat back and waited.
The bunker's warding burned and its steel reinforced walls groaned from the pressure of an unseen power radiating outwards from the dungeon.
Receiving multiple calls of a strange glow the fire department arrived to find the multistory bunker reduced to nothing but smoldering rubble. When interviewed, the police chief decreed it to be a structure failure and the final resting place of its only known occupants, the eccentric Campbell brothers.
The inferno regions of the Underlands paled in comparison to the ferocity of the Winchester brothers as they stormed the Citadels hallowed halls.
Sam embraced his rightful place as the Puer Rex Infernum with his brother, The Knight of Hell, at his side for eternity.
Long live the Boy King of Hell.
Dean had been standing in front of him staring for nearly an half hour when Sam's sarcasm surfaced, “Take a picture, it'll last longer,” finally opening his onyx eyes. Dean knew he was physically in pain, Sam never wore those eyes otherwise when they were alone.
“What you need..”
“You made it obvious what you think I need Dean, they didn’t help.”
“How many did you get through?” His curiosity peaked.
“All of them.” Sam's voice was strangely dissociated.
Dean blinked in surprise, “You fucked all of them?”
“Fuck and drained, including the guards watching them.”
“Damn Sammy, I’m proud of you!” Dean couldn’t contain his elation, even after all these years, of his brother embracing this life.
Before giving in to their dark sides, Sam was his complete opposite when it came to sex. His encounters were few and far between, preferring, unlike Dean, to have a connection, not just a roll in the hay.
Sam should have been flying high on demon blood topped off by all that pussy and cock, but it was having the opposite effect. He was utterly melancholy.
Dean reached out and gently cupped his cheek, running a calloused thumb over his surprisingly soft, pink lips. Sam’s eyes shifted back to their engaging multi colored hues, softening with the forbidden love for his brother he’s always felt as he gazed at Dean.
Giving into temptation Dean leaned down to taste those lips, whispering against them, “Don’t worry baby brother, I’ll find what you need to stop your pain.”
Dean slammed the heavy ornate door of his private rooms having wasted his time on another fruitless, dead end pursuit. It had been nearly a year since he started his search with nothing to show for it but disappointment and a trail of corpses.
“You look like you need a drink.” A gruff voice called out from his bedroom.
***
Sam had negotiated a truce between Heaven and Hell shortly after taking over. Many of the stipulations we’re only known to the parties directly involved there was one specific item made public.
Someone was chosen to reside in the other's domain as a diplomatic hostage, anything happens to them, the truce was void and all out war would ensue on Earth.
Castiel was the obvious choice for Heaven, believing his close relationship with the brothers could be exploited. He was also granted the ability to freely go between Heaven, Hell and Earth.
What Heaven didn’t expect was his continued loyalty to the Winchesters after they became demons, informing his angelic brethren he refused to be a spy, saying he was neutral like Swedish fish.
Sam’s choice was controversial. He eventually convinced Heaven it was in their best interest for The Cage to be interred there. If it’s corrupted inhabitants were to escape, well, they’d be Heaven's problem to deal with.
Sam then eradicated all of Lucifer’s remaining followers, permitting Dean a public display of what would happen to those who challenged his reign.
***
Dean walked in to find the angel on his bed, casually reclining against the large headboard reading an ancient scroll.
“What are you doing in my bed Cas?”
“Waiting on you Dean.”
Dean’s talented tongue peaked out as he toed off his boots and climbed up onto the bed, crawling across to straddle the angels thighs leaning towards him, “Should've sent for me…” Castiel placed a firm hand in the middle of Dean’s chest halting him.
“I’m not here for that and have no intention of fornicating with you.”
“Come on, play with me Cas, you know you’re dying to know what it’s like to have a big cock deep down your throat,” Dean, using his whiskey roughened tone, blinks slowly as his sexy, makes women instantly wet smile graced his plush lips, “or would you prefer I slip it up that tight ass of yours, help you release those pent up frustrations? If you really wanna try it, experiment on me.”
“You're trying to provoke me only because you are frustrated,” Dean’s expression turned frosty, “but I have found information that will lead us to what you’ve been searching for,” Castiel holds up the scroll for him to read.
Dean takes the scroll from him frowning, “What language is this shit?” He asked, sliding off Cas onto the bed.
“An obscure form of an unpronounceable language. It has taken me the better part of the year and I called in several favors to gain access to Metatron. After persuading him to translate what he could of it, I have now obtained the location of the Regina Coeli.”
“Who?”
“The Queen of Heaven? You want me to take the Virgin Mary as my consort!”
Incredulousness was written on Sam’s face as he looked between Dean and Cas as they sat across from him in his private receiving room.
“I can just see it Sammy, you and the blessed mother. Damn, if we weren’t already in hell.” Dean smarted off, earning “It’s Sam,” and bitchface #127 in response.
Castiel released a long-suffering sigh at his friend's inappropriateness.
“No Sam, I was not referring to her nor the ancient sky goddesses erroneously given the illustrious title,” Cas points to a nondescript illustration of a woman seated upon the throne of Heaven, “I am referring to the one true queen God himself chose to rule over all of his domains in his stead.”
“Chuck's firstborn was an Archangel girl? What’d she do to piss off dear old dad, take the family car without permission for a joyride?” Dean's joke falls flat.
“The translation was vague on the specifics but she is not an Archangel, more of a composite, created from the Light and the Darkness. The rumors indicate she took the Darkness’s side in a disagreement between them. God banished her here as punishment with the stipulation that only a descendant of the First Ones of Father can lay a claim for consort and make her their queen.”
“First Ones? I thought those were the Archangels,” Dean asked, giving Cas a confused look.
“According to the eldest demons Lucifer did try on more than one occasion. Obviously, he was not the one nor any of the other rulers that followed.”
Traveling into the labyrinth beneath the Citadel, Castiel led them through an ancient part of the Underlands neither brother knew existed and stopped in front of a nondescript wall.
Dean cocked his head to the side scrutinizing it, “Fandamntastic wall Cas.”
“Yes, it is.” The Angel replied and walked through it.
Dean reached out his hand coming into contact with the solid surface, “The fuck?”
Castiel’s upper torso reappeared, “Coming Sam?”
Sam shrugs and stepping forward is pulled in. He finds himself in a large catacomb, torches placed statically around to illuminate it. He turns to ask Cas where they are and stops.
In the center sits a raised, polished, black marble obelisk.
Sam stands in front of it studying the carved inscriptions in the same language as the scroll. “It’s a nice piece of marble Cas.” He comments unimpressed.
Castiel did something strange. He smiled at Sam, a full on grinning like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland smile.
Sam’s ingrained hunter’s instincts kick in before his eyes shift to their onyx color, using his demonic powers to scan the area around them searching for an immediate threat but encounters something unexpected.
“I have been waiting a long time for you.”
Sam found himself standing in an expanse of pure white, it’s vastness of nothing surrounding him. There is the barest of sounds behind him and in what was empty space seconds ago now sits two high backed thrones. One is from illustration on the scroll, the other his. Sam wonders how he missed the fact they were matching except for color.
Drawing up to his imposing height ready to defend himself he walks towards them cautiously. Sensing no imminent danger Sam takes a seat upon his and waits for what is to happen next.
Sam's eyes snapped towards a subtle sound of feathers rustling beside him. On the throne sits a woman staring at him.
“Are you the Regina Coeli?” Sam inquires in awe that she isn’t anything like he imagined.
Slowly blinking Y/C/E, she nods once.
“Why did you bring me here?” Sam gestures to the empty space surrounding them.
“It was necessary, I have no other way of communicating otherwise.”
Sam cocked his head unable to figure out how she is projecting her thoughts to him.
Long ago he learned how to shield himself from others when one of the late Princes of Hell tried using a telepath to oust him from the throne. It had taken ages for the cleaners to remove all the bits left after Dean eviscerated them.
She dropped her chin given him a coy smile, “It is because you were made for me.”
“What do you mean made for you? I don’t understand.”
“The one who can claim me as consort is descended from the First Ones of Father and that is you.”
“The First Ones were the Archangels.”
“The Archangels were created from The Nothing. The First Ones of Father were created on Earth.”
“The First Ones...you mean Adam and Eve?”
“Adam and Lilith.”
“They didn’t have any children before God cast Lilith out as a demon.”
“Yes, they did. You and your brother are their descendants.”
“We’re descended from Cain and Abel...”
“Who were Lilith’s offspring, not Eve. It is why those directly descended from her were marked for the Apocalypse.”
Sam ponders this information a while, yet another piece of the puzzle that was their lives clicking into place.
“Lilith possessed free will, unlike Eve. It was passed on to her descendants as punishment.”
“And has led you here to me.”
“What's your name? I can’t just call you Regina Coeli.”
“Father gave me no name like his son’s, he only called me daughter.” She told him sounding sad, “what name do you like?”
“You want me to give you a name?” She nodded eagerly waiting for his answer. Sam looked at her contemplatively never having had a favorite female name, the only one that truly mattered in his life was Dean.
“I’ll call you Y/N.”
She stood up and moved to stand in front of Sam.
“Before you commit to this, know that this is a symbiotic relationship, you won’t need to feed on demon blood anymore, we’ll feed off each other.”
Y/N produces a knife more delicate than Ruby’s and runs it across her wrist leaking some of her grace, and offering it to Sam, he takes her arm and sucks on the wound briefly.
“But there’s one stipulation....”
“Whatever it is you can have it.” Sam breaths out, his body craving more than just a taste of her grace.
“All domains are mine, including the Underlands, as decreed by Father.”
Sam's eyes shifted onyx with displeasure, “Hell is my domain and I don’t play well with others who try to subvert me.”
Y/N smiled mischievously and climbed onto his lap, “I freely give it to you but remember, the others are mine and I don’t play well either. Do you agree to my terms?” she retorts in a dark, cheeky manner. Sam picks up her long braid, playing with the trailing silver ribbons tied around its end.
“Agreed.”
Sam and Y/N stepped through the wall to find a relieved Dean and pissed off Castiel, who took his leave.
As they traveled back to the Citadel Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of Y/N. This would have normally angered Sam but she had informed him even though they were technically demons, Dean was still his soulmate so she could bond with him too if Sam wished.
After introducing her to the court, who insisted their bonding was completed in front of a witness, they retreated to Sam’s private chambers.
Dean moved in front of her, caressing her cheek and licked his plush lips, “She looks so sweet Sammy.”
Sam hums in agreement moving behind her drawing her flush against him and kissing along her neck asks, “You wanna taste Y/N Dean,” as he grips the material around her waist and lifts her dress upwards, slowly unveiling her body to his brother. Dean’s eyes dilate with hunger as it teasingly travels upward, revealing she is nude under it.
“Lift your arms,” Sam tells her and pulls it completely off, dropping it and resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder and starts playing with her nipples as she wraps her arms behind his neck for balance, spreading her legs to give Dean access between them.
Dean dropped to his knees and looking to Sam for permission, runs his tongue over her outer lips, tasting that she’s already wet before parting them, making her quiver with pleasure.
“Dean loves the taste of pussy, he could eat you out for hours. Would you like that Y/N?” Sam moaned at her response, “He will later,” reaching down gripped his brother's short hair tugging him back roughly, “it’s my turn now.”
Sam laid back on his bed high on her grace as Y/N straddles him, pinning his arms down next to his head and leaned in brushing her lips across his in a tender kiss.
“Keep your hands to yourself till I’m done with you.”
She kissed down the long line of his neck pausing below his tattoo to tease his left nipple with her tongue before biting down making him shiver in pleasure. Sam’s cock hardened even more as her lips, light as the dusting of a feather, traversed downwards over his abs halting at the v of his hips and gripping his cock in her hand dipped the tip of her tongue into his slit, tasting precum pearling out before taking just the head into her mouth sucking on it, her tongue over moving in random patterns over the sensitive nerves underneath it.
Sam groaned in pleasure feeling the sweetest sting of the blade along the crease of his leg, his hot blood pulsating to the surface. He watched as she released his cock, lowering her head and, without breaking eye contact, licked along the flowing wound, tasting his deliciously tainted blood.
Y/N continuously moved her hands over every bit of his skin she could reach while nursing at the wound. Sam started feeling light headed from being drained but at the same time euphoric with desire as he unabatedly cums on his stomach.
Dean, writhing in his seat observing them, presses down on his cock to deny himself cumming watches Y/N using her tongue to clean Sam’s spending's as he’s still spurting.
Resting her head on his hip Y/N asks Sam something making him smile, “Y/N wants to know if I will allow you to join us now,” his eyes telling Dean to hurry the hell up and get naked.
He strips in record time, climbs on the enormous bed straddling him behind Y/N, teasingly rubbing his cock through her folds. “How do you want us sweetheart? You want Sammy’s unrelenting cock pounding this scrumptious pussy and me down your throat?” Dean strokes her throat, “How about both us in your tight cunt, ravaging it together?” He trailed his left hand down Y/N’s torso and inserted two of his thick fingers in her feeling her clenching.
“Or maybe prefer me here,” tapping his cock head against her tight little hole before slipping his dripping tip in past the tight ring of muscle making her jolt then quiver with pleasure as she pushes back till he’s fully seated in her.
“That’s it, get nice and stretched out on my cock,” Dean bit his lip moaning as she worked herself up and down on him, “ ‘cause once Sammy’s been in here, you’ll know it for a long time.
Sam, unwilling to wait any longer, grabs his self and pushes in next to Dean’s thick fingers, ramming his massive cock into her drenched cunt, forcing her to stretch around him and not stopping until he was balls deep in her. Y/N gasped silently, overwhelmed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in millennia.
“Easy there tiger, we have eternity to play with our new toy.”
Forever tags: @donnaintx
#all saints day reblog#boyking!sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#supernatural#knightofhell!dean winchester#supernatural fanfic#supernatural au#dean winchester x reader#knightofhell!dean winchester x reader
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Weekend with Jake
——————————
You and the boys relaxed in Jake and Josh’s basement, it was a calm saturday afternoon and most of your free time was spent with these men in this basement. They were your friends, your best friends even. Sam was the first one you met , he was in your biology class to which you both showed up late and were paired together to dissect a frog. Which you both protested, instead of cutting up a poor frog you and him talked about music the whole class hour. You failed the class but gained a friend, well four friends after he introduced you to his brother’s that lunch period. That was a few years ago now, back in freshman year. Now you're all seniors, who barely attended school. The boys at least had good reason, they were investing their time in their band. You just didn't want to go to school if your friends weren't there, you did what you needed to graduate and coasted through the rest.
“Thirsty?” Jake inquires , noticing you'd been quiet for a while. You didn't realize any of them had spoken; you were adrift in reflections of the past.
“Yeah I could go for some soda” you answer, offering him a kind smile, he grins back and hops off the black suede couch, his imprint still left in the cushion next to you. You hadn't noticed the warm presence of his body heat until it was gone. He moved across the room and jogged up the stairs headed for the kitchen.
“I'm bored” Danny utters, looking at an old magazine. He let it fall out of his grip and settle lightly on his lap.
“Me too” Sam announces, he had been situated in the corner of the room and was fiddling around with his Bass, he often played small compositions to himself. You looked to Josh who you expected would be the next to say something, he was far too enthralled with his phone to even regard that any of you were here.
Jake's footsteps descended the stairs before he hopped over the back of the couch landing perfectly in his fading imprint.
“Here you go!” he voices handing you the cold can. You grab it and inspect the label, your eyebrows peak up towards your forehead in thought.
“You got me diet?” you inquire looking to him. His face goes pale and panic fills his chocolate brown eyes. He shifts his weight on the couch, adjusting his posture. He gulps telling you his throat went dry. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but couldn't help it. It was cute seeing him all flustered at the thought of insulting you.
“Jakey, I'm just kidding, I prefer diet, thank you” the words escape your lips and Jake sighs with relief sneaking in a small chuckle as well.
“Good….because I didn't mean anything by bringing you diet, I mean I know you like it but I dont - I dont think youre ya know, I don't thi- you look really good to me like you don't have to change anything about your- I just-” you put your finger to his mouth, his haphazard words coming to a stop.
“Thank you Jake” you speak softly, you knew what he was trying to say.
“Let's go swimming” Josh proposes, finally lifting his eyes from his phone. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about.
“Swimming? We don't have a pool” Sam replies, setting his base back in its case. Josh shrugs looking at his tall, slim, younger brother.
“no , but the neighbors do and they're out of town” he offers with a sly grimace.
“Problem solved” Danny chimes perking up with a toothy grin.
“I’m in” Jake replies nodding.
“(y/n)?” Josh asks, they all look at you in waiting. Your eyes flicker between the four of them.
“Sure….but I don't have a bathing suit” you realize.
“That's ok you can just wear your birthday suit” Josh winks. Your eyes roll, as they often did in Josh's direction.
“You can borrow Ronnies,here come on I'll take you to her room” Jake offers, touching your shoulder gently indicating it was time to stand. You agree and follow him up the stairs and down the hall to her room. You walked in and it smelled just like her, vanilla and cashmere , her signature perfume scent. Jake looks around the room and silence settles in the air he looks over to you his hand tucked snugly in his back pockets.
“Here it's right here….dont worry its clean '' he says pulling the bikini out of Ronnie's drawer. You look at it as he hands it to you , it was the color of strawberry milk, which you liked, it was also a two piece, which you didn't like.
“Oh it's a bikini” you utter, you didn't mean to say it out loud. You did not usually wear bikinis , you didn't feel very comfortable in them, especially not in front of four boys. You just didn't feel like you had the right body for a bikini. Jake must have noticed your unease
“You can wear one of my shirts if you're not comfortable in just that” he offers gently. You smile and thank him but decline, you didn't want his clothes to get ruined from the chlorine.
“Ill just wear this, its no problem, plus I really wanna go swimming its hot as fuck out” you chuckle. Jake nods in agreement
“Well I'd better go change too” he announces, leaving you alone in the room. You slip your clothes off and shuffle into the bikini. You looked at yourself in the mirror that hung on the back of Ronnie's door. You didn't look as horrible as you thought you would have, but you were still kind of nervous about the guys seeing you like this, they'd never seen you in such a small amount of clothing.
“Most of your body will be underwater, they'll only see you for a moment” you give yourself a small pep talk.
“Come on (y/n) were leaving!” you hear danny call from the living room. With a fortifying breath you give yourself one last look and walk out of the room. You make a pit stop in the bathroom and grab a towel to wrap around your body , you grabbed an extra four for the guys as well. The soft shag carpeting of the bath mat in the bathroom grounded you and calmed you.
“Just getting some towels!” you yell down assuming they heard you. You had the towels and you were ready to go, butterflies slammed incessantly into the sides of your stomach, begging to be released.
You walked down the stairs and found the guys waiting by the front door.
“Alright let's go” Josh says as he turns the bronze door knob, the sun gleamed in the sky, you squinted trying to combat its powerful rays.
“Jesus christ” Sam spat holding his hand up above his eyes.
“Good day for swimming,” Danny adds as you all walked towards the backyard, the neighbor in question was a few houses down. The warm soft grass felt inviting on the bottoms of your feet the sun bathed your skin with warmth like a hug from mother nature herself.
The pool was actually pretty big, you were almost surprised something like this was in someone's backyard and not on an episode of ‘cribs’. The boys begin pulling their shirts off with no thought , you were almost jealous at how little they had to worry about their bodies. You, on the other hand, were a little more reluctant. A few droplets of water hit your face as Jake jumps in the pool, then Danny then sam.
“Come on” Josh nudges you before joining his brothers. You watch them with a smile before dropping your towel , slowly. Jake was watching you intently only with his head visible above water. His lips part and his tongue smooths across them as he takes in the sight of you. His hair was wet and small drops of water cascaded down his face, he didn't seem to notice he was too engaged with you. You didn't see him looking at you at first and the first person to say anything was danny.
“Jesus…” he muttered, in a good way you had hoped.
“I'll take that as a compliment Daniel” you chime walking closer to the pool, using the ladder to slowly dip yourself in the refreshing water. It wasn't too cold or too hot, it was perfect and your body thanked you for it.
The guys swam around for a while, all of you splashing each other, laughing and probably being far too loud to go unnoticed by the other neighbors but none of you cared. It was freeing to be in the water, all your worries fade with every splash , ebb and flow just like the artificial waves Josh and Sammy were causing while wrestling in the water. You felt something grab your leg and pull you under before you could let out a sound. You smile when you see Jake's long hair floating aimlessly in the clear blue water, he waves to you then brings his hand to his lips and blows you a kiss before resurfacing. You stayed under a few seconds longer than followed him up. The noise of the outside world filling your ears once again. Jake flipped his hair out of his face, you watched in slow motion as droplets of water flung of the tips. You couldn’t help but take not of how attractive Jake is, his smooth sun kissed skin covered in droplets of water racing down his body
Stop stop stop.
You pull your eyes away from him , you could swear you saw him smile.
Your heart was fluttering in your chest, you hadn’t felt like this before about Jake, you’ve always seen him as a best friend. The night went on and now you and Jake found yourselves back at his house , upstairs on the balcony that was attached to his second floor bedroom.
“You want a drink?” He questions
“Wine?” You inquire with a smile.
“Yes ma’am, your favorite too, pink moscato” he returns the smile. You were at the kiszkas so often for dinner they’d always kept a bottle of your favorite wine in their liquor cabinet. Jake stepped out of his room and downstairs. You turned your attention to the sky. Pinks and oranges painted across the lazy sky as the sun began to set. You closed your eyes, your body tired from spending the day in the hot sun. The clinking of glasses brings you back to a more present state of mind. Your eyes flicker up to Jake who stood over you, holding a wine glass out to you , once you took it he returned to the wooden patio chair he was sitting on.
He poured your drink first and then his, the wind gently blowing his hair. You took a sip of the sweet and tart liquid, it was ice cold and delicious.
Your eyes find their way back to the sky.
“What a beautiful view” you chime to no one in particular. Jake looks to you, he watches the wind sweep through your hair , his eyes scan your profile lingering on your lips.
“Yeah...you’re gorgeous” he says , his words softly float out of his mouth.
“I means ITS- it’s a gorgeous...view” he corrects himself quickly, he curses himself under his breath. You pretend like you didn’t hear the first part but you did and it made your stomach flip. Did he really think you’re gorgeous?
“Are you sleeping over?” He asks, taking another drink from his glass. You mull the idea over in your head.
“Do you want me to?” You respond , a loaded question.
Jake catches this and smiles at you.
“Of course” he coos. This would not be the first time you slept over so it wasn’t a big deal.
The rest of the guys were downstairs drinking around the fire pit, you could see them from where you were sitting.
“Wanna join them?” Jake asks, noticing you gazing down at them.
“Sure!” You chime. The two of you grab your drinks and make your way to the fire pit.
“We should make s’mores” you propose making a pit stop in the kitchen. You open the cupboards looking for graham crackers and some chocolate bars. Marshmallows were on top of the fridge as always.
“Here I can carry that” Jake offers, taking the food from your hands , such a gentleman. His fingertips gently brush against yours and by the look in his sparkling eyes you couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional.
“There they are,” Josh exclaims as you and Jake sat down. You sat next to Danny who welcomed you with a side hug and a kind smile. Jake sat across from you with Sammy. Flames of blazing heat separating the two of you, obstructing your view of him.
“We brought snacks” Jake chimes tossing the marshmallows to Sam who tore the bag open happily.
Conversation flowed as easily as the drinks, the sun was gone now, the heat of the alcohol was all you needed to keep you warm. The five of you spent a few hours around that fire landing you all in a drunken stooper.
“Well...I think I’m gonna go to bed ladies” you say, struggling to stand up. Danny holds your arm stabilizing you. You turn and give him a good night hug, his hand brushes up and down your back as he says goodnight. You take a lap hugging each of them , all of them saying goodnight. You stumble again as you walk towards the house.
“I’ll help her” Jake says standing to his feet, you feel his hand lay above your hip bone and his other hand grab your arm as he stands behind you holding you up.
“Went a little heavy on the wine huh girl?” He laughs as he moves you through the house.
“Yeah” you slur.
“Think you can make it up the stairs?” He asks, trying to catch your gaze. You shrug. He chuckles and just picks you up bridal style , carrying you gracefully up the stairs. He sets you down on his bed gently, his mattress shapes to your body , you feel him drape a thick comforter over you , his body weight settling next to you. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses you softly, reluctantly on the cheek. It felt right, being here with him in this bed , with his arms wrapped around you , your body against his, his face nuzzled into your neck planting kisses on your shoulder. He whispers a soft goodnight.
The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, it took you a moment to realize where you were, your head pounded , the night before still knocking against your brain.
Jake was nowhere to be found , well, at least in the bedroom. You squint your eyes as the sun gleamed through the blinds
“Good morning” Jake voices as he steps into the room carrying a tray with breakfast foods laid out attractively.
“I brought you breakfast, I bet you’re feeling pretty rough” he chuckles as he sets the tray down so it’s stationed across your lap. You smile at the plate of delicious food in front of you and then turn to Jake.
“Oh Jake this is so sweet, thank you so much”
“You’re welcome girl….I made it all myself” he adds.
“Well here we can share” you chime scooting over so he could get closer, he wasted no time doing so.
You rest your head on his chest as he takes a drink of juice.
It all felt right, for the first time in your life everything felt right.
#jake#jake kiszka imagine#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#gvf#danny wagner#josh kiszka#sam kiszka#danny gvf#jake gvf#sam gvf#josh gvf
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Geralt Whump Week Submission Day 6
TITLE: I Hurt You (You Saved Me)
SHIPS: Geralt of Rivia / Jaskier|Dandelion
PROMPT: Monster
MEDIUM (Netflix, Books, Games, Hexer): Netflix
WARNINGS: NA
SUMMARY: Excerpt:
The only thing he could actually blame Jaskier for was his stupid decision to befriend Geralt, for trusting the Witcher to keep him safe. Because now Jaskier was hurt and the thing truly responsible for it was chopped into several pieces and flung across the clearing. So, the only one Geralt could actually blame was himself.
Basically, Jaskier gets hurt, Geralt blames himself, and along the way to getting Jaskier help remembers some key memories with him.
WORD COUNT: 5424 words
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Additional Tags include Geralt Whump Week, Prompt: Monster, Geralt Whump, Jaskier Whump, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Protective Geralt of Rivia, Self-Hatred, Non-linear storytelling, Pining, Geralt of Rivia has Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Canon-typical violence, Soft Jaskier, Soft Geralt of Rivia, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers
AUTHOR: Fangirlshrewt97
CHARACTERS: Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier
LINK TO AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25109782
///
He wanted to blame Jaskier. Blame him for being reckless, for not paying attention, for thinking he would be fine tagging along on one of Geralt’s hunts because he wanted more inspiration for one of his diddies.
But the only thing he could actually blame Jaskier for was his stupid decision to befriend Geralt, for trusting the Witcher to keep him safe. Because now Jaskier was hurt and the thing truly responsible for it was chopped into several pieces and flung across the clearing. So, the only one Geralt could actually blame was himself.
///
It had been almost two weeks since Geralt’s last contract, his coin was running too low, and the villages he had to cross had not been all that welcoming. Jaskier hissing and rearing to fight everyone who looked twice at Geralt did not help the situation. He was touched by how fiercely Jaskier protected him, but sometimes he wished he would learn to pick his fights.
“I am choosing my fights Geralt. I am choosing to fight for you.”
Geralt shook his head. “You don’t need to do that.”
Jaskier scoffed. He propped himself on his side from where he had been lying on Geralt’s chest. “Geralt, last time we were at court, you almost tore off the arm of the nobleman who insulted me.”
“He called you a whore.” Geralt growled.
Jaskier shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. But you did not need to defend me that day, I didn’t ask you to.”
“I wasn’t going out stand by and let him call you names.”
Jaskier smiled fondly. “Precisely my love, how is it fair you ask me to stand by while all these strangers beg you to help them with a monster and then call you names in the same breath.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Oh? Do you think I don’t care for you as much as you care for me?”
“Jaskier it’s-” Geralt bit off, growling when he was unable to say what he wanted. Jaskier merely ran a hand across the length of his chest, accustomed to giving him time to sort out his thoughts. “I don’t need to be protected.”
Jaskier laughs, the bastard.
“Oh darling, of course you don’t need to be protected.” He leans down and kisses him, slow and heavy, pouring his seemingly endless affection into Geralt until the Witcher wonders if one can drown in it. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel nice when someone does it anyways though. You protect me from all the monsters of silver, and I’ll protect you from the ones of steel.”
I’ll be your shield against humans, I won’t let you get hurt again. Not on my watch.
Fuck, Geralt’s chest is a pandemonium of emotions, so he does the only thing he does understand. He rolls the bard back onto his back and shows him his love.
///
A conversation from long ago echoes through Geralt’s mind as he ties the makeshift bandages he created out of his tunic across Jaskier’s chest. He wills his hands to stop trembling, his heart to not beat so loud, his breath not to be so ragged and painful. He doesn’t particularly believe in any God, but right then he prays to every one he knows to allow Jaskier to be alright.
Because the world needed this miracle of a man to be alive.
Because Geralt needed this miracle of a man to stay alive.
///
They were camping next to a lake, the summer night making the air heavy and humid. The soak in the river had been delightful, the cold water washing away the stickiness on their skins, allowing them to feel clean for the first time in days. They were on their way out of Novigrad, Jaskier having requested Geralt to meet him there after he finished his latest hunt. The bardic festival hosted by Lord Whittenmore had sent a personal invitation to Jaskier who had been honored, and determined to win once he learned Valdo Marx would also be there.
Jaskier had worked tireless on perfecting new compositions for the festival, staying awake late into the night, having to be hauled to sleep by Geralt when the Witcher finally had enough of the racket.
“Geralt?”
“Hmm.”
“Do you know the constellations?”
Geralt slowly peeled his eyes open, sleep had been scarce during the hunt, and though he would not admit it out loud, Geralt found he slept best when the bard was next to him.
The sky above them was a twinkling canvas, the moon half full but still bright enough they hadn’t even needed to keep the fire going for light. The lake was surrounded by a flat ground, allowing them to see the sky unobstructed. And stars crowded each other so much it was difficult to make them apart.
“A few.”
“I had a book about constellations when I was a child. My mother, she would read to me every night from that book. Told me the story behind each one.”
Geralt rolled his head to the side, taking in the view of his lover from the side. Jaskier was staring steadfast at the stars, their light reflected in his own eyes. Geralt’s breath got caught in his throat when Jaskier turned to meet his gaze. Jaskier did not need the reflection of stars in his eyes to imitate their twinkle, not when his out shined them all.
“Tell me one?” The question left Geralt before he could stop it.
Jaskier seemed to light up even more somehow, and launched into the tale.
Geralt fell asleep to the sound of his voice, his eyelids too heavy for him to keep them open.
When he woke the next morning, he swore he could feel the imprint of a kiss laid on top of his eyelids as he had drifted off to sleep.
///
Geralt heaved Jaskier up on his arms, ignoring the searing pain running up the entire left side of his own body. Fucking kikimoras. Trusting the potions he had taken beforehand to heal him, he secured Jaskier in his arms. Clenching his jaw so tight, he was sure he was chipping his teeth, Geralt tightened his hold on the bard and started to run. He needed to get a potion in Jaskier, get him stable, and then take him to a healer. One who could do magic.
Jaskier’s head lolled against his shoulder, the bard having succumbed to the pain a long while ago. Geralt picked up his pace the more he heard Jaskier’s heartbeat slowing down. The drum the dictated the beat of his life more and more.
His own chest started to feel icy, fear gripping his heart with claws that made it bleed.
///
It had been the bard who kissed him first. They were camping just outside of the Cedarian capital, the town had been having a nasty basilisk problem that took Geralt the better part of two days to take care of. Jaskier had conceded to being left behind in town on the condition of being allowed to fuss over Geralt as much as he wanted once he returned. And hadn’t that been a warm thought to mull over on the hunt. There was now someone who was waiting for Geralt on the other side of the hunt. Someone who had no obligation to do so, but chose to. Chose to spend time with him, someone who cared, someone who washed and tended to his wounds and soothed his nightmares. Jaskier chose him.
The basilisk had been a pain but Geralt had killed it and collected the reward soon enough. They rode out of town after Geralt got his coin, the villages reeking of equal measures of fear and disgust. They set up camp in the woods, Jaskier not complaining about the lack of a soft bed or the plain stew.
Geralt did not know much about the bard, for all that he rambled and babbled throughout the day, Geralt noticed that Jaskier rarely spoke about anything regarding his past. But there were some things he could not hide, the easy comfort in the silks and colors of his doublets, his intimate knowledge of nobility, his casual spouting of political relations and hierarchies in every country. Jaskier came from money. He came from a family that educated him. Possibly a family that loved him. So what was a man such as himself doing as a wandering minstrel? One who walked with Geralt even?
Every night, these thoughts occupied Geralt’s thoughts, though he’d never voice them out loud. He fell to a restless sleep, and was up with the dawn. Jaskier did not protest too much when Geralt roused him so early, just getting up and packing. They were barely on the road when the hair on Geralt’s neck stood up, and he called Jaskier to halt. He had barely pulled the bard close when an arrow landed right where the bard had been standing. Snarling, Geralt pulled Jaskier onto Roach, and kicked the horse into a gallop. A couple more arrows whizzed by, but none hit their target. Unfortunately the path they were on narrowed, and they ended up in a bottleneck. Geralt dismounted, pulling out his steel sword and taking a fighting stance as he patted Roach to hide with Jaskier. Soon enough the bandits descended, and they must have thought their numbers would help against a single Witcher, only to find themselves quickly outmatched. Geralt received a few nicks, and one slash to the side of his chest that could had pierced him if not for his armor. By the time Geralt disposed of the last bandit, he was panting and the pain from a cut to the leg had him limping.
“Geralt!” Jaskier cried out when he emerged from the hiding spot. The bard rushed to him, entering his personal space and started to prod him, finding all the wounds. Geralt growled and batted at Jaskier but the bard was not deterred. The bard had him sitting on a nearby rock and pulling out Geralt’s supply of salves and bandages, quickly bandaged the two deep cuts, the nicks already starting to close on their own.
“Well, nothing like a bandit encounter to get the old blood pumping, right Geralt?” Jaskier tried to joke, laugh dimming at the sour look on Geralt’s face. He sighed. “Look, let’s just go alright?”
Geralt grunted and stood up, beckoning Roach to him. He mounted, and to Jaskier’s surprise offered him a hand too. Accepting the offer, Jaskier mounted Roach, slinging his arms loosely around Geralt’s waist. But to his surprise, rather than going out of the bottleneck, Geralt rode the opposite direction, back to where they had come from.
“Um, Geralt, I think we are going in the wrong direction. We need to be going the other way.” Jaskier explained. Geralt just grunted. Jaskier fell silent, but Geralt could scent his confusion.
They arrived at the place where the first arrow had been shot, and seeing it there made Jaskier gulp. It made Geralt’s blood boil. How dare these humans try to take his bard away?
When they got to the arrow, Geralt dismounted, making Jaskier yelp and follow. “What are you doing Geralt? I’m sure the bandits hiding here saw the fate of their friends and fled.”
Geralt was looking for something though, and moved with a purpose, pulling back a bush to see his prize. Crouching to get it, he brushed off the dirt that clung to it, noticing the dents and splinters to the wood.
He brought the lute back to Jaskier, who was standing next to Roach with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Here. You dropped this.” Geralt said as he passed the lute back to Jaskier.
Jaskier took the lute from Geralt, cradling it for a moment before staring back at Geralt. His scent took on a pleasant smell of pine wood and flowers on top of his default scent of chamomile and vanilla, one Geralt had smelled before but had not yet deciphered the meaning of.
“You… we came back for this?” Jaskier asked, wonder filling his voice. Geralt shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the emotions he was reading off of Jaskier.
He grunted. Jaskier’s lips twitched before morphing into a genuine smile, small but beautiful. It made Geralt’s heart speed up and a bubbling feeling develop in his stomach.
And then. And then, Jaskier switched the lute to one hand, using the other to pull Geralt close to press a kiss to Geralt’s lips. The Witcher stood frozen, the heat of the bard’s body feeling as though it was burning him. Jaskier had closed his eyes, but Geralt couldn’t find himself able to do the same, mesmerized by the shape of Jaskier’s eyelashes lightly brushing against his cheek. His lips tingled when Jaskier broke the kiss. “Thank you Geralt.”
Jaskier turned around and started walking back towards the pass. When he didn’t hear Roach following, he twisted his head to beckon him. “Are you coming Witcher?” His voice was warm.
Geralt unfroze and climbed on Roach, following the bard for once.
What had just happened?
///
When he neared the road, he whistled a short tune, Roach galloping to meet him. Swinging Jaskier onto her saddle, Geralt climbed behind him, shifting to have him sitting side-saddle, secure between the Witcher’s arms. Then, he snapped Roach’s reins, begging her to be swift as they thundered towards the nearest village.
He hated how much this reminded him of the Djinn and the meeting that had happened. How many times was he doomed to hurt this man?
///
The first time Geralt kissed him, Geralt wished he had done it differently. They had been in Murivel, and just by sheer bad luck Jaskier had encountered a nobleman who vividly recalled his face as it had tumbled out of the window of his wife’s chambers. Needless to say, he had been holding a grudge and Jaskier had been sent running through the streets of the town while half a dozen guards with swords chased him. Jaskier had ended up crashing straight onto Geralt, nearly sending them both tumbling to the ground.
“Geralt! My darling Witcher, help me please!” Jaskier had cried.
Geralt heard the sounds of the soldiers, and was able to connect the important dots even if he didn’t have the full story. Unfortunately, he had left his swords in the inn and had only a small dagger. And this was their town. And Jaskier was wearing one of his obnoxiously bright doublets that made sure he always caught everyone’s eye. Good for a performance, bad for hiding from soldiers who want to castrate you.
Already regretting the action he was going to do, he hauled Jaskier against the wall of the nearest alley, pressing close to the bard, touching from shoulder to knees. Jaskier squawked before his breath hitched. It was not helping Geralt concentrate.
“Geralt?” the word was whispered against his ear, and instinctively Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hip. He heard the soldiers round the corner on their street and turned to Jaskier, pressing his lips onto his, swallowing the moan Jaskier let out. Jaskier was frozen for a moment before he threw his arms over Geralt, one burying itself in his hair and the other encircling his torso. Geralt brought his hands around Jaskier’s waist, pressing them against his lower back, making the bard arch into him.
The heat from the bard was intoxicating, and left Geralt wanting to continue doing this. This miracle of a human who touched him with no fear, who wanted him.
He heard a group of footsteps stop at the mouth of the alley but moved on quickly enough. It was only when he heard them turn another corner that Geralt stepped back. Not too far though, leaving just a couple inches of space between them.
Jaskier was a sight, lips red and plump, eyes slightly glazed and hair mussed. “Geralt…” Fuck, even his voice was hoarse.
The Witcher could feel his arousal racing through his veins and when his hips brushed the bard’s they elicited a moan letting him know the bard’s reaction was more visceral than a simple kiss warranted.
Geralt could still recall the first kiss Jaskier gave him, he had spent nights replaying it in his head. He had also, in the nights when he travelled alone, allowed himself to imagine how he would return the kiss. This had not been it.
He had wanted to earn it, wanted to treat the bard, make him smile, make him laugh, make his scent be filled with happiness.
Still, he couldn’t say he entirely hated what had just happened either.
///
Roach brought him to the healer’s hut quickly, sensing the panic from her rider. Geralt dismounted, carrying Jaskier in his arms. He shifted him enough to knock on the door, anxiety and panic coloring every second before the door finally creaked open to reveal a tiny woman who barely reached his chest.
“Please, respected healer, my friend has been injured and he needs immediate assistance.”
“Hmmm,” the woman contemplated before thankfully opening the door further to let him in. “There is a bed in that room, deposit him there. Divest him of his clothes too.” She ordered.
Geralt quickly followed her instructions, willing away the trembling in his arms as his fingers unbuttoned Jaskier’s doublet.
He couldn’t pull the bard to sit to remove his chemise, so he used the dagger from his boot to cut it, promising in his head to replace it for him. He was just finishing with lowering Jaskier onto the bed when the old lady waddled back into the room. In the light of the fire, the slash of the kikimora had cut a wide line from just below Jaskier’s armpit to his opposite hip in the back, the line curving jagged and dangerous.
“Now Witcher, let me do my job, go sit outside.”
“But-”
“I cannot concentrate if I have you hovering over me. I may not be able to scent your anxiety but I am sure you reek of it. Begone with you!” She ordered, pointing back to the main room.
Biting back an argument, Geralt sighed and bowed his head. “Yes madam.”
He glanced backwards at Jaskier, still laying on the bed, pale and haunting with the moonlight that was shining down on him.
He closed the door, the main room being dark and cold compared to the space he had just occupied. Knowing he couldn’t stay still, not when he was useless to help Jaskier, not when it had been his fault the bard had been hurt in the first place, Geralt fled.
///
“That’s it. You are teaching me how to make your damn potions Geralt!” Jaskier huffed as he tried to staunch the bleeding by wrapping the bandages faster. But Geralt’s torso was slippery and bandages ended up bunching up rather than laying flat on him.
Geralt, helpfully verbose as always, growled at him.
Jaskier growled back and pulled at the bandages viciously.
Geralt tried to swipe at him. Jaskier pulled the bandages again.
“I am the only reason you are not dead you idiot. Stop resisting me!”
Geralt snarled, securing Jaskier’s wrist in a tight enough hold strong enough to hurt but not fracture.
“Get your hands off of me, or I will do it for you.”
Jaskier bared his teeth in a half feral smile. “I’ve travelled by your side for 10 years now you bastard, you think you scare me? I’m not afraid of you Geralt.”
The two men wrestled some more, although it was less wresting and more Geralt using his bulk to keep Jaskier away from him without hurting the bard while the bard clawed and threatened to bite him.
In the end, Roach got annoyed by the racket then were making and headbutted Geralt’s back, making him lose his balance for a second. Unable to balance both of them when Jaskier decided to swing at him again at that instance, both went crashing to the ground, Geralt gasping as lines of pain radiated from his cut shoulder to the ends of his toes, further exacerbated by Jaskier falling half on top of him.
“Shit! Are you alright, I am so sorry!” Jaskier exclaimed as he scrambled to get off the Witcher and stand upright, accidentally kneeing him in his, thankfully, uninjured side.
Gritting his teeth so hard he almost heard them crack, Geralt braced himself on his hands and pushed himself up against the rock he had been sitting in.
Jaskier dropped to his knees beside him, far more careful of his movements.
“Geralt?” the concern was overwhelming in its sincerity and its scent.
For all the flaws the bard had that drove Geralt out of his mind on a daily basis, the one consistent thought in his head was the perplexity he felt as he studied the enigma of Jaskier. The bard was loud, colourful, had a tendency to go feral and pick stupid fights, got into stupider beds he ended up having to run from with his trousers only half done. But he was also kind to Geralt, a kindness that was genuine. He feared for Geralt, not because of him. Geralt did not know what to make of this human. And now he claimed he wanted to know how to make potions to help Geralt out? The idea was absurd.
But as Jaskier took his silence as permission to continue his fussing, he sat back and let the bard do as he wished, thankfully quiet this time. Jaskier’s touch was gentle but firm, and the fear Geralt kept waiting for, even after all this time never came.
Somewhere along the way, Jaskier had learned how to heal him, how to care for him, anticipate his needs. And Geralt felt a curl of shame in his stomach that he could not say the reverse was true.
///
Geralt was back at the swamp. The scents were overpowering, the rot of death and blood, kikimora and Witcher and human, all combining to form the most noxious smell Geralt had ever smelled.
He felled the head off the monster, harvested the useful bits, and then burned the corpse. He burned the whole clearing too, just to be safe.
He rode back in a fugue state, his mind was blank because the only thought was ‘Jaskier will be alright, Jaskier needs to be alive, Jaskier needs to know, Jaskier will be alright, Jaskier needs to be alive, Jaskier needs to know …’
The sun had set long ago, only his Witcher vision allowing him to guide Roach back to the hut of the old healer. Leaving Roach to munch on the nearby patch of grass, Geralt reentered the cottage. The smell of blood in the air had been replaced with incense, and Geralt could hear a faint chanting from the old lady.
Lost without direction, Geralt sagged against the wall next to the door leading to Jaskier. He curled his arms around himself and rested his head against his knees.
All that was left to do was wait. How had this all happened?
///
It had even been a simple hunt, the alderman had put out a commission for a Witcher to take care of the spider monster in his lake, and when Geralt had met him, had even been helpful in giving details. He described how four of the men of his village had been lost when they had left through the path north to do business and then failed to return. But when a couple others returned, they realized the men who disappeared must have done so near the water. So the remaining citizens had armed themselves and gone to the search the riverbanks to find their bodies to bring home, only to lose another citizen to the monster.
The alderman shuddered as he recollected the sight.
He had said, “Master Witcher, I know that in most places your kind is not treated kindly, but we are a small village, dependent on each other. Loss of even four men is a heavy loss, and we cannot afford to lose any others lest all of us die. We do not have much coin, but we can provide you lodging and food for free to compensate.”
Geralt had accepted the offer, not least because he had seen the hunger pang faces of the children when he and Jaskier had arrived, death and misery hanging like a cloud over the village. Jaskier had quietly offered to play at the tavern and the alderman had smiled at him weakly. He had travelled wide and seen the rarity of people in power who cared for their people, and the man before him all but bled his grief at the death of his people.
“Music and happiness have long been gone from here Master Bard. If you would kindly welcome them back for even a night to this town, I will be grateful beyond words to you.”
Jaskier had offered a nod and made arrangements for his performance. That night, after singing and dancing and finally seeing those children laugh, both men retired to their room.
“What monster do you think it is?” Jaskier had asked, laying on his side, head pillowed on his arm, looking at him.
Geralt had been on his back, on arm tucked beneath his head as Jaskier took the one on his stomach to play with.
“Based on the description, it is probably a kikimora. They are difficult but if you go in with a plan the job can be done quickly enough.”
“Let me come.”
“No.”
“Geralt.”
“You could get hurt.”
“That’s what you tell me before every hunt!”
“It’s true of every hunt.”
“Geralt…” Jaskier whined. Geralt had relented. In hindsight, he wanted to hit himself over the head for such a stupid decision.
The next morning had dawned early, and the two went in the direction of the swamp. Jaskier had conceeded to staying away from the fight itself, and found that there was a place where the path forked to the swamp, one heading to the river, and another to higher ground. Making sure the bard was safe up high, Geralt ventured to the river, pulling out his silver sword.
He leaned down and picked up a few pebbles, enchanting them with a sign, and once at the river’s edge tossed them in. Barely a couple of seconds passed before the still waters rippled and splashed as the monster emerged from the riverbed. It roared, Geralt barely able to make out a small darkened spot on it’s head before it launched itself at him. Geralt dodged and threw an Aard, which stunned the kikimora enough for Geralt to hack off one of it’s legs.
Enraged, the monsters had screamed again before slashing out rapidly, catching Geralt in the arm. Geralt grunted as the claw pierced the skin below the armor, but used the proximity to chop off another limb. He threw another Aard, throwing the kikimora out of the water and into the cliff by the river’s edge. The soil of the cliff must have been weaker than it looked, because Geralt could only watch as the ground beneath Jaskier’s feet crumbled and the bard let out a scream as he fell, landing on the monster’s back. Jaskier was stunned for a second before he scrambled away from the monster, limping to cover. Geralt unfroze and launched himself at the monster, giving Jaskier enough time to get to safety. Unfortunately, the kikimora was fueled by anger at that point and viciously slashed out it’s leg throwing Geralt into the river. Geralt spluttered when he breached the surface, and could only watch in horror as Jaskier let out a blood curdling scream before falling silent as the monster seemed to cut him in half.
Geralt couldn’t recall what had happened next, only knew his vision had gone red and he had fought against the monster, going so fast and hard the kikimora could not even prepare a defence for itself.
///
Geralt had been engaged in intense self-flagellation for over an hour before the door next to him crack open, spilling bright light into a dim room that had Geralt squinting. The old woman stepped out, closing the door behind her. Geralt rose to his feet, feeling his heart in his throat.
“Madam, my friend-”
“Quit your nervousness, it is unbecoming. Your friend shall be alright. A little bruised but he will be healed by the morrow.”
Geralt felt the immediate urge to sink to his knees in relief.
“Now go on ahead, he is asking for you.”
Geralt’s heart skipped a beat before starting to pound. “Asking- He’s awake?”
“Yes, boy, generally sleeping people cannot make requests. Go on in now.” The lady said as she practically pushed Geralt into the neighboring room.
The sight in there was enough to make his eyes tear up. There on the bed, looking exhausted with a new scar, but otherwise healthy and breathing, and whole, was Jaskier. With his bright blue eyes, and warm smile, and kind hands. There was his miracle of a man he had done nothing to deserve.
Geralt nearly sobbed in relief. Good things did not happen often to him, destiny had a tendency to fuck him over at every turn.
Jaskier called him forth, extending a hand towards him. “Geralt.”
The steps he took felt mechanical, as though it wasn’t him who was walking, not him placing his hand in Jaskier’s, not him being blessed with that radiant smile. But that smile dimmed a little, and Geralt wanted to bring it back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” Geralt managed to croak out after several prolonged moments.
“Like you can’t believe your eyes?”
“I-” Geralt said, before being overwhelmed, and he surged, enveloping Jaskier in a firm but gentle hug, burying his face in Jaskier’s scent. A tear made its escape and landed on Jaskier’s bare shoulder.
“Geralt wh-”
“I heard your heart stop.”
“Oh Geralt. I am alright, I am here.”
Geralt just clung to Jaskier tighter. The bard brought one hand up to run through Geralt’s hair as the other rubbed soothing circles into the small of his back.
The pair stayed like that until Jaskier’s muscles protested, and Geralt forced the bard to lie down, pampering and fussing over the bard.
His bard. His friend. His Jaskier.
The old lady allowed them to stay the night, saying the stitches would burst open if the bard had to ride by horseback or walk the next day.
“Thank you for taking care of me, my lady.” Jaskier had said.
“Little boy, I just did my job. If the big one hadn’t brought you to me as quickly as he did, no one could have helped you. You should be thanking him.”
“I plan to, my lady, I plan to.” Jaskier had said, voice so fond, Geralt wanted to run, especially when those blue eyes filled with love were aimed at him.
“Very well, you both interrupted my supper, I am going to eat. I trust you to take care of yourselves.” She had bid before walking out, nodding at their bows.
Once she was gone, Jaskier had cupped Geralt’s face ad brought him in for a kiss.
“This is not your fault.”
Geralt’s fist clenched in the sheets.
“Of course it is.”
“Geralt-”
“I should have been more careful.”
“And I should have actually listened to you.” Jaskier said exasperated. He sighed, shifting his hand from Geralt’s cheek to the back of his neck. “Dear heart, you warned me so many times, you gave me so many chances to stay behind and I rejected all of them. Neither of us are to blame, or both of us are. But please, please don’t put this on yourself.”
When Geralt looked like was going to protest, Jaskier shut him up with a kiss.
“Promise me.”
In front of those eyes, Geralt had always been helpless. “I promise.”
Jaskier smiled brightly again. “Good.”
And then because he was a ridiculous fool in love, he pressed a kiss to the Witcher’s nose.
And because the Witcher was an even bigger fool in love, he blushed.
///
In his heart Geralt did not know if he could ever truly forgive himself for letting Jaskier get hurt, but he had promised the bard, so he would try.
He would also make sure to do his best to ensure harm never came to his bard again, directly or indirectly.
Jaskier was far too precious to hurt.
#the witcher#my fic#my wriring#geralt whump week#geralt whump week 2020#geralt whump week day 6#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geraskier#geraskier fic#soft geralt/jaskier#let me know what you think!
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Under the Needle’s Point || Morgan & Luce
Location: Ink Inc.
Timing: August 13th
Tagging: @mor-beck-more-problems & @divineluce
Notes: As a result of a scheduling mix up, Morgan winds up getting a tattoo done by Luce instead of Ulfric. The two have a nice little chat.
Warnings: Needles tw
Morgan couldn’t stop thinking about the dead supernaturals she’d brought out of that witch’s lab. Not even bodies, just pieces jarred and labeled according to parts, their usefulness. She’d sourced some weird shit from shops back when she was alive, but something about these just waiting, knowing what it was for, seeing the way Jo had looked her over as if she was prime stuffing material for her magic turducken. There were no names, no conveniently left behind ledger to tell Morgan the story of who these remains had been. They were just pieces, next to nothing. And what was left of her? Of the person she’d been? No one at work even knew she’d died, except for Anita. There was no family to notify. If she hadn’t dropped off the radar for two weeks, no one would have realized. And sometimes it seemed like people thought the person she’d been before was still in her, whole and bright and unchanged. How could she tell them any different. She didn’t know how to explain what “I” and “Me” signified now. She didn’t have any alternate words to pick from without drawing too much attention to her deadness, which was usually not the best idea. But even if some of her pieces had come back, Morgan felt different and rearranged all over, and she could only talk Bea’s ear off about it so long.
Walking into Ink Inc, Morgan tried to let the stupid, angsty knots inside her unwravel themselves. Ulfric usually had something good to say, and her idea of a solution would at least provide a few hours’ distraction. “Hey, Ulf?” She called. The shop was quiet, though she wasn’t sure how busy it usually was. “I’m early, but maybe we can get started--Oh.” When she saw Luce Vural approach the front desk, Morgan found her stomach knots switched out for a whole new platter of them. “You’re...not...Ulf.”
Flipping through the ancient book that lay on her workstation, Luce frowned as she looked at a few strange sigils drawn in the margins. What did these have to do with ghosts? She wasn’t familiar with anything surrounding ghosts and it was times like this when she wished she knew a decent exorcist. But, even in a town as magical as White Crest, there weren’t many of those running around. Luce mimicked the circular wards drawn in the book with the tip of her finger, tracing the shapes into the wood of the table. They didn’t feel like anything she’d ever drawn before, but she’d never been good at wards to begin with. What exactly did these things mean?
The sound of the bell ringing over the front door caught her attention and Luce shut the book and tucked it away into her backpack. She didn’t need people asking her what she was reading. As she emerged from her room, Luce launched into the typical speil, “Hey there, what can I do--” Her words trailed off for a moment when she saw Morgan standing in the middle of the shop. Leaning against the receptionist desk, Luce’s lips pressed together in a thin line. Shit. The last time she’d seen Morgan was… fuck, when they’d rescued Remmy? Christ. “What gave it away? The height? The distinct lack of a red hair and a beard?” She asked, the sarcasm coming out on reflex.
“Wow, you really are this friendly all the time, even to people you haven’t lashed out at.” Morgan deadpanned. The irony of lashing out was not lost on her, but it was too late to take the words back now. And as far as Morgan knew, Luce hadn’t exactly tried to smooth things over with Remmy since stomping on their heart. “A-ny-way...I have an appointment. A rib piece. Ulf and I talked it over already. I think there’s already a stencil and stuff, but I don’t know if you need anything fancy for working with um, zombie skin. Are you gonna be able to help a dead girl out?”
“What can I say, I’m a ray of goddamn sunshine.” Luce said, tone matching Morgan’s. If this was how this was gonna go down, she could play the game. She wasn’t sure why the woman was coming out swinging like this, but she could hazard a guess. Morgan was someone who cared about Remmy and… it wouldn’t surprise her if Remmy had told her about what went down at the carnival. “An appointment. Huh.” Blinking, Luce looked over at the computer and scrolled through the schedule. Well shit. Ulf had definitely booked her, but it looked like their evening receptionist has fucked up and double booked him. “Looks like there was some kind of scheduling fuck up, but… Yeah. I can do that.” She said. If the stencil was already drawn up and Morgan had already put down her deposit, she wasn’t going to argue. Work was work. “C’mon back. And, no, no fancy tools needed.” Luce thought back to the day Remmy had entered the shop, when they’d met the first time. Oh, for fucks sake. “So, what are we doing today?”
“Of course there is…” Morgan sighed. Not for the first time, Morgan wondered if Constance had made some backdoor bargain with the universe to keep the suffering going as long as there was some miserable creature named Morgan Beck on the planet. She had come here for herself, for the promise of having a sustained goddamn feeling that didn’t strain Deirdre’s muscles, for the talk about the universe and their personal stresses they always shared, and...not Luce and her crabby emotional bullshit. But this was what Morgan had. She’d sectioned off this day carefully and timmed the distance from the start of fall semester so she could have it done, follow ups and all, before classes. No one at work would see, but she liked the idea of having something complete and beautiful that was a part of her. Maybe she just wished marking herself with sigils still did any good.
Morgan followed Luce to the back, explaining, “A rib piece, with color. It’s sort of sizable. I was talking about breaking the whole thing up into sessions, maybe.” She cleared her throat. “Does that, uh, sound good…?”
“Does Ulf know that you’re… a zombie?” Luce asked as she scrolled through the shared files on her laptop. Thank christ they had a good internal filing system for shit like this. She was able to locate the design that Ulf had already drawn up without too much difficulty. It wasn’t her personal cup of tea, but their styles weren’t that far off and she could do color nearly as well as she did black and white. “I ask because I’ve-- I did Remmy’s tattoo a while back.” She said, unable to hide the stutter-step in her voice, the slight hitch in her words. “They healed almost instantly. It’s how I knew they weren’t exactly human. So, you might not actually need a couple of sessions. Could save you money.” She said with an offhand gesture before pushing away from her desk. “This look like the one?” She asked, gesturing for Morgan to look over at the stencil that was on her computer screen.
“Yes,” Morgan said. “He said he’d never done one on, you know, someone like me before. But that’s good to know. Maybe this isn’t gonna be the worst idea after all.” She kept her eyes on Luce, watching as she choked on Remmy’s name and stiffened with awkwardness. “If you’d rather we get this done in one go and it won’t mess with your schedule that sounds fine.” She stepped closer to Luce awkwardly and took a look at the design she’d worked out with Ulf.
There was a deer skull, positioned at an angle so you could see the two wide holes where its eyes once were without feeling them looking straight at you. Bluebonnets and Evening Primrose and rich red Winecups, flowers she hadn’t seen since she left Texas, sprouted from one of the sockets. The blues, pinks, and reds on their petals were dappled with color as if from the tip of a watercolor brush. More flowers, goldenrod, blackberry, and meadow-rue, hung from the antlers, garlanded loosely in a way their real stems would never allow. A fine chain studded with small pentagram stars and crystals settled between the horns like bunting and dangled down beneath the skull by several inches. It was elaborate, but Morgan felt better about herself looking at it already. “Yeah, that’s the one. If you can do it, I guess we better get started.” She pulled off her shirt, bunched it around her chest, and waited for Luce to take on the challenge and show her the way.
“It’s your call. We can do whatever works for you.” Luce said, her voice measured and careful to avoid the halting tone it had taken on with the mention of Remmy. “Why don’t I get the outline of it done first and then we can see how it goes? It’ll be a long one session, but I don’t have anything up on the schedule. I was just hanging around in case we got a walk in. And… low and behold. A walk in.” Besides, she needed the money. Hospital bills were still rolling in from her stay after Bea’s resurrection and at the rate that Nell was going, she’d probably need to help her younger sister out too.
Staring at the design, Luce found herself marveling at Ulf’s work. He was, after all, the one who had inspired her to take up their chosen profession. His linework was impressive, the color pallet beautiful, the composition well balanced and perfectly in line with the mystical elements of the tattoo itself. She’d studied his work long enough to be able to emulate it-- the shading might not be quite how he wanted it, some of the lines might go thin in places where he preferred something a bit more bold. But, they could duke it out over beers at Dell’s if it came to it. “Alright, let’s get rolling.” She laid out her tools, fixing a new needle in her machine, laying out her pallet of inks on the rolling tray she kept by her chair as the stencil printed. The placement came easily enough and Luce snapped on a pair of gloves before settling back on her stool. “Just let me know if it feels like it’s too much and we can take a break.” She said before turning the machine on and putting the needle to Morgan’s cool skin.
“Well that’s nice and completely non-committal,” Morgan said. Probably because Luce was giving her an out. And, if she really wanted, she could take it. She could throw her money and her tip at Ulfric instead. She could forego, what, at least eight hours alone in a tattoo parlor with Luce Vural? It made a certain kind of sense and Luce would know how Morgan felt about the way she handled her bullshit with Remmy to boot. But Morgan had come here with the intention of getting her tattoo and she was not going to let her anger and bewilderment at Luce get in the way of that. They could handle a transactional meeting. “But if you’re really free all day, let’s get started.” She settled down on the seat, glancing over her shoulder at Luce to see how she was muscling up to the prospect.
“Oh, please,” she snorted, dryly. “I had a pole go in one end and out the other. I don’t think anything is going to be too--oh!” Her sentence died in a squeak as the needle made contact. There was...something alright. Like a deep scratch on her insides, one that reverberated throughout her whole body. She couldn’t remember any sensation this immediately potent except for the punches Mina threw in their practice sessions. Morgan dug her hands into her shirt and squeezed tight. “Jeez. That’s one hell of a rush.”
A part of Luce had almost hoped that Morgan would decline the offer for a full length session. It was a huge tattoo and the lengthy sessions always left her drained, her back sore from leaning over someone, her hands cramped and tired. But, the other woman seemed set on getting this done, and who was she to argue with it. “Yeah. Like I said, we can play it by ear.” She said, her tone calm and neutral.
As Morgan reacted to the sting of the needle, Luce raised an eyebrow as she continued to work. “You good?” She asked. When she’d done this on Remmy, they’d hardly reacted at all. It’d been a big part in how she’d known they weren’t human. It wasn’t that they were being macho about it, like most of Luce’s clients, they just hadn’t seemed to feel any of it. There hadn’t been any involuntary twitches to the muscle when she’d been working, nothing. “I’m guessing it must be weird, going from not feeling hardly anything to being able to feel this?” She asked, the echoes of a memory that belonged to Morgan returning in a swift wave. “Like I said, if it’s too much, we can break this up into different sessions.”
Morgan had to keep her laugh somewhere tight in her chest. “Oh, it’s definitely weird, like the world’s tiniest jackhammer is dancing on my bones. But the other thing is I have to do a whole round of mental gymnastics to trick myself into feeling things or almost feeling things, or I just get in a really great tension workout trying to make myself press into things hard enough to feel like I’m really here. But I guess you kinda know how that is, huh?” She turned over her shoulder, eyeing Luce’s reaction. For someone who pretended to have the emotional capacity of a toothpick, she’d taken Morgan’s memories mostly in stride with the brain biter and her own valuable memories had been full of feeling too. “You’re good, Luce. Although, we should probably pass the time with more than just complete awkward silence, right?”
“The tiniest jackhammer? Never heard that one before, but sure.” Luce commented blithely as she kept her hand nice and steady, following the smooth curves of the stencil, tracing over the skull design. She was already planning out how she’d do the shading of the eye sockets, the way the flowers lay against bone, but Morgan’s words took her out of it for a moment. Blinking, her hand faltered before she focused back on her work, the needle continuing to move. “Yeah. I guess I do.” She muttered, reminded of the fact that their memory swap had been just that. A swap. Morgan had seen her memories, had experienced them. The moment from her childhood when her sisters had sat on the living room floor, braiding each other’s hair. One of the many midnight margs celebrations, usually done after coven meetings or some other ritual. Morgan had seen good memories, happy memories. Memories Luce didn’t share with anyone. “Depends on how you want to fill it.” She said as she dipped the tip of the needle back into the small container of ink and resumed her work, “Are you going to try and talk to me about Remmy? I know you two are close.”
“You brought them up, not me,” Morgan said. “But yeah. We’re pretty darn close. I don’t know how much you’ve been keeping up with them or how much you actually care, but they really have been through the wringer lately. And that’s on top of all the other stuff they had to deal with before, including me.” She sighed as Luce’s needle brushed against her bone again. Who knew that something so sharp could feel so much like relief. Was this why people got hooked on getting them? “What I’m trying to say is, handle with care. Remmy can take a lot of hits, but that doesn’t mean they should have to. And maybe figure your shit out before they get their hopes up again.” She drew in a shallow breath and tried to extend her attention around her body, feel the novel tingles of air and the buzzing prick of the needle as it traveled away from her bone again and grew faint. It was all she could do not to pout. Everything about existing was work, was an act of management in concentration and willpower. At least when her bones were catching onto a feeling for her she could let go. But that would’ve been easy, and universe forbid Morgan have anything like that for long.
Luce let out a sigh as she continued to draw, machine buzzing in her grasp. Well, shit. She had been the one to bring them up. Fuck. But, it was better to rip the bandaid off now, right? Better now than to sit in awkward silence or let it hang over their heads while she worked. “Yeah. I know they have.” She said off handedly. She knew that Remmy had been through it. How could she not know? She’d held them that night when they’d re-lived their experiences at the Ring, she’d seen the collar around their neck drop them to the ground, she’d seen just how fucked up they’d been after the rescue mission. And now, the latest pile of bullshit-- she’d seen Nadia drag them out of Pat’s Place, seen them brought to their knees by poison. She knew. “Including you.” Luce echoed, remembering what those words meant. Remmy had been the one to turn Morgan, to save her. “You think I don’t know that they shouldn’t have to deal with all the bullshit life’s thrown at them? I’m real aware of that fact.” She said, though her words lacked bite. “They don’t deserve any of the fucking stuff that happens to them.”
It was hard for Morgan to get a read on Luce while she was halfway down her torso, inking out the curves of deer horns. She sounded tense, bitter, but those might’ve been part of Luce’s factory settings for all Morgan knew. “Well, I couldn’t tell from here,” Morgan said, more accusatory than she’d meant to sound. She frowned, waited a moment, and tried again. “I’m glad we can agree on Remmy needing a break. I’d guess we could also agree on Remmy deserving some basic kindness. We can’t control their circumstances much, but we can be good to them, right?” She didn’t think this was a controversial point and so didn’t wait to press on to her real question. “So I guess I’m just..really curious about why you handled your side the way you did. I know you tend to come out swinging, which I don’t follow either a lot of the time, but this...wasn’t that.”
Lips pressing together into a thin line at Morgan’s tone, Luce said nothing and instead focused on her work. She wasn’t going to fuck up Morgan’s tattoo just because the other woman was being a bitch about things to her. Even if she really wanted to. All it would take is a few little lines-- nope. She valued her work too much to fuck up someone’s tattoo on purpose. Drawing the machine back, she wiped the stray flecks of ink off with a paper towel, not bothering to ease up on the pressure. Morgan wouldn’t be able to feel it the same way people did. She dipped the needle into more ink and set back to work. “What do you mean, how I handled things?” She asked flatly, her tone emotionless. “They wanted more, which wasn’t part of the deal. From day one, I made my intentions very clear.” Luce said as she started on the curves of the deer’s eye sockets, staring blankly back at her. Almost accusingly. Oh, fuck off.
Morgan waited for Luce’s words to settle before speaking again, just in case she started snapping all over again. This was, technically, not her business. But she was upset with Luce for how her words had affected Remmy and how it had surprised her as well. She didn’t even know what, specifically, had happened. But even the vague strokes were so unlike the person she’d thought Luce was. “You were cruel,” she said at last. “What you want or don’t want to intentionally invite into your life is your business, and if you want to put boundaries around how much you really care about Remmy, go for it, whatever, I guess. But you can still be kind when you’re telling someone ‘no’ or ‘not right now.’ You can try to make the hurt as small and possible. I didn’t think you were the kind of person to do that, especially to someone kind of close to you. Which, okay, we don’t even know each other that well, really, so maybe it was my mistake. But it was still...really weird to hear about, after all you did for them.”
“What can I say, I’m a bitch.” Luce said callously. A nosy bitch, getting into other people’s business, doing things that pissed people off just because she could. And she was more than happy to live with that reputation. It was fine, it was normal. As Morgan continued to talk, Luce began to start on the outlines of the flowers, their delicate petals requiring a lighter hand. She rolled her eyes at that-- a lighter hand. People would like it if she handled things that way, wouldn’t they? If she was kinder, if she wasn’t as rude, as rough, as angry. “They weren’t close to me.” She insisted. “We just fucked.” Luce said, though the words didn’t hold quite as much weight as they once had. They hadn’t just fucked. They’d held her that night when she’d broken and told them about Bea, she’d done the same for them after they’d been torn to pieces. She’d broken them free from the Ring, destroyed the building, taken lives… for Nell, yes. But, for Remmy too. Looking at her gloved hands, Luce’s jaw clenched. “I did shit because I wanted to. Not because of them.”
“Okay, I know you didn’t just fuck,” Morgan said, rolling her eyes. “I know you made yourself emotionally present for them in some really rough, vulnerable moments. They told me how safe you made them feel, and how it seemed like you were opening up. And you were ready to kill everyone at the ring before you knew they had Nell too.” She gasped as the needle circled over her rib bones again, making her insides almost come alive. “And maybe we’re not close, but I know enough about you to know you’re not just a bitch. What I don’t get is why it’s so important to you that other people see it that way. No one is vulnerable about everything all the time, and for some people...yeah, kindness and softness has to be earned. But...you still haven’t answered my question. Did their question make you feel...betrayed or upset somehow? Were you scared?”
Luce sucked in a breath at Morgan’s words. Of course, Remmy told her about shit. Of course they did. “Maybe I got a taste for it. Who knows.” She said in an offhand tone, brushing past her quick leap to destruction. She continued to do her work, keeping her hand nice and steady as Morgan continued to talk at her. So they’d swapped memories once, that didn’t make Morgan an expert on her, or her feelings. She didn’t fucking do feelings, not like that. But, at the last question, her eyes widened in surprise. If she didn’t have literally years of experience, of people saying stupid shit that caught her off guard, she might have fucked up her lines. Instead, her hand remained steady. Even so, there was no way to hide how her breath hitched slightly. “You don’t need to know why I did what I did. You’re not Remmy’s keeper and you’re sure as hell not mine.” Still the word echoed in her mind. Scared. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t. Wasn’t she?
Morgan caught the way Luce doubled down on her tension. So, getting warmer, maybe creeping up on a nerve. It probably shouldn’t have felt so surprising; fear made fools of everyone. Hadn’t she learned that one a dozen or so times over? “You’re too interesting to be selling yourself short like that. But…” She gasped again. Why couldn’t she just shut up and enjoy this again? Luce was right, she wasn’t Remmy’s keeper, and even if she was still mostly playing by their request to ‘not yell at’ Luce, she was...definitely skirting around things. But it itched at her worse than this needle, knowing Remmy had been hurt out of, what, recklessness? And Luce was cutting herself off from a relationship she had seemed to care about right until it was brought to the surface and made real. “You’re right,” she said at last. “We don’t have to get into this. We can go though the next eight hours talking about something else. Like...this is the first feeling-almost-feeling I’ve had that didn’t give someone at least an arm workout...well, actually, I guess you will have one by the time we’re done, but, it’s the concept for the thing. Or uh…” Stars, they really didn't have that much in common, did they? “You know, if this thing that doesn’t matter to you at all is also for some reason too much to talk about, maybe you should pick.”
“Damn right we don’t.” Luce said firmly. She’d dealt with longer sessions with worse people before. Then again, they weren’t usually people she had to deal with outside of the shop. But, someone who knew her the way Morgan did? Someone who knew her family? It made things trickier. She knew she could keep her cool about this, that she should just keep her mouth shut and deal with it. So Morgan wanted to bitch at her about how she’d hurt Remmy. So fucking what. She could handle it. Then why did she feel anger creeping in the pit of her stomach? Pulling the machine back from Morgan’s skin, Luce tossed the machine down onto the tray next to her with a loud clatter. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, Morgan, which is exactly how I like to keep things. You don’t get to tell me what I should do, that I need to pick and choose. I already made my decision, I already chose. And you don’t need to know why I did.” She said, staring at the woman with fire in her eyes.
Morgan groaned deep in her throat. Now she wasn’t even feeling anything. But now without having the precision of the device to worry about, she could turn and look at Luce fully. She was angry alright, but nothing she was saying was making sense. “I am very certain I already conceded that first point, she said. And as for the rest, I didn’t say literally any of those things. Which makes me wonder who exactly is? Who is telling you what you need to do or that you have to pick and choose between...whatever it is you think your binary options are? Or that you can’t change your mind about your decision later? Because I just wanted to know why you went out of your way to be mean to someone we both care about, and then I offered you an out. So what are you really upset about here, Luce?”
Startled, Luce stared at Morgan for a moment. She had said those things, hadn’t she? Or had Luce been reading too deeply into things, looking into things that didn’t exist? Either way, her outburst had dug herself an even deeper hole than she’d started in. Fuck’s sake. Luce rolled her eyes, though the action was more for show than anything. It was a way to get people to leave her alone. But, she couldn’t unhear the other woman’s words. What was she upset about? Really? “What am I upset about? The fact that Remmy went off and fucked everything up. Things were fine, just the way they were. It was all just for fun. And then they wanted more. I fucking told them that I’m not interested in more, because I’m not go-- I don’t do more.” She said before rolling back from the chair, her hands up in the air. “Look. Ulf’s appointment ends in ten. Get him to finish your tattoo. I’m done.” Luce said with a shake of her head.
“Luce…” Morgan said softly. “Hey, you...are a good person, Luce. You’re good. I mean, I kind of hate that word, it’s so arbitrary, but as far as I’m concerned, you are. And I’m not the only one, okay? Whatever it is you need out of your relationships, whatever you choose, as long as it’s really what you want and need, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re good. And if your needs change, you’re still good. You’re good and you deserve to be happy, whether that includes ‘more’ or not, or Remmy or not. You deserve to be more than just okay. You know that, right?” She cleared her throat, looking down at her wrinkled shirt and the only mostly done outline of her tattoo. “But uh, if you need a break or you’d just rather not anymore, that’s...fine.”
You deserve to be more than just okay. Luce had said similar things to Remmy before and now they were being turned onto her. She wondered if they felt just as false to them as they did to her. She didn’t deserve someone like Remmy, didn’t need someone like them in her life. Because what would happen if she did let them in? If she said sure, let’s try, let’s be something? She’d open up to them and that scared her. But, Luce was startled to realize, what scared her more than the vulnerability of it all was the wanting. She wanted to open up to them. To be honest with them. But, what would happen then? Nothing good. Staring at the outline on Morgan’s side, she sighed. “I’ll finish it. But,” She grabbed the remote to the stereo system from her desk, loud music filling the room. “No more talking.”
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