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slut4matty · 3 days

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Old habits die screaming

Matty Healy and Taylor Swift have been rumored to have something going on for over a decade, when they finally both publicly announce their relationship, the shitstorm is huge. They break it off again shortly after. The only problem is: Taylor is still very much in love with Matty. What she doesn't know is that he feels the same.

"Sorry, I can't sleep", I texted my best friend Abigail. I had to let him go, for fuck's sake. I just can't stop thinking about him.

"Taylor, babe, it's 2 am and I have to be up early tomorrow. I can call you for 10 minutes, but I'm begging you, please let me sleep right after." Of course, she answered, she always does.

"No, it's alright, go back to sleep." I'm a grown woman, I can handle this.

"Abigail, I said, go back to sleep." "Taylor we've been best friend since forever, I'm always here for you, even at 2 am on a random Tuesday. Now tell me, what's going on? You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" Yes, of course I am, I just can't stop thinking about him. "Yeah. I just feel like I'm going crazy right now. We've been on and off for ages, but this time it feels different. I don't think he's coming back, Abigail." I can't imagine a life without him anymore. I've loved him for 10 fucking years, and I'm ready to love him for at least 10 more years. "Babe, don't you think it's time to move on? He has hurt you and your reputation a million times already, and it fucking hurts seeing you this miserable." My reputation. Why is everyone, including myself, so obsessed with this? "I know okay? I know. It's not that easy, though. I feel like, it's my fault he ghosted me. Don't try to blame him now, please, I would've done the same in his situation. Did you read the horrible things they said about him online? I can't imagine how this must feel like." It really is my fault, though, isn't it? But what could I have done differently? Should I have called them out on their behavior? I probably should have. "I understand that this is as hard for you as it must be for him right now, but what can you do? Please don't text him, Taylor! You're only hurting yourself if you do.", Abigail's voice sounds desperate. She knows how hard it is to convince me of something. "I won't. Please go back to sleep now. I'm sorry I woke you up in the first place.," I said in a defeated voice. "No worries, I couldn't sleep anyway", I know she's lying, "I hope I was able to help you a little. Good night, Tay, I love you so much." "I love you more, good night.," I said and hung up.

What now? As much as I love Abigail, this conversation didn't help much.

Writing. I should start writing again. It's my job, of course, but it's also the only healthy coping mechanism I could think of right now. I'm wide wake anyway, so what else could I do right now. I have started writing a song called "I can fix him (No really I can)" I want to do something the 1975 inspired because that's what this is all about of course. Matty Healy. Lead singer of the famous British band "the 1975" but also my decade long situationship. We met years ago, and I was obsessed with their music. He dedicated their song "Fallingforyou" to me once, so I'll dedicate a song to him now. No, fuck this, I'll write a whole album.

"They shake their heads saying, "God help her", when I tell them he's my man."

I hate all of this. Him leaving me because some assholes couldn't keep their mouths shut about my love life. He didn't do anything! At least he actually cared about me and wanted to fight for us, unlike some other ex-boyfriends of mine... Yes, he has made mistakes, but so have I. Nobody is perfect. I don't understand why everyone thinks I am? Matty left because he thought it would be the best for me. He couldn't have been more wrong. I hadn't had a good sleep in weeks and when I finally drift off into sleep he's all I dream about. He's quite literally haunting me right now. I wonder if he feels the same about me. Was any of this real to him, or was he disappointed when he finally had me after all these years of yearning? I know I promised Abigail I wouldn't text him again, but he deserves to know the truth.

"Hey Matty, are you up?", I sighed as I hit send. He's probably asleep anyway.

"Who's this? And how did you get my number?" Shit, I forgot that I got a new number, since the other one was leaked last week.

"Sorry, it's Taylor. I've got a new number. I didn't want to disturb you." I already know this was a bad idea, but it's too late now anyway.

"Hey, you didn't. I was still up. Has anything happened? I'll call my management."

"No, don't worry I just wanted to tell you, that I'm sorry for everything that's happened lately. I should've stood up for you, when my "fans" started attacking you like this."

"Don't worry, Taylor, it's fine." God, he sounds so distant. I don't even recognize him like this.

"No, Matty it's not, and you don't deserve any of this. I don't know why I texted you in the first place, but I just wanted to let you know, that it was real to me." I'm so stupid oh my god. He probably doesn't even care about me anymore. Otherwise, he couldn't have just ghosted me out of the blue, could he?

"Of course it was real to me too! I loved you, I loved you so very much, but this is all too much right now. I'm not good for you or your reputation. You're an amazing woman, and I'm not going to stand between you or your success." I can't do this anymore. He loved me. Past tense. It's really over. He's not coming back. Never. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. What was I even thinking? Of course, it's over, the whole world knows. Why did I think, this was a good idea?

"Thank you, Matty. I love you very much as well. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way we both wished they would. Sleep well and have a good night.", I sent with tears forming in my eyes, and shut my phone off for good. I drifted off into a deep, uncomfortable sleep, filled with nightmares.

#matty healy #musicians #taylornation #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #2014 tumblr #slow burn #fanfic #i cant write #first post

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i-have-wings-on-my-head · 6 months

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Redoing an old book for a friend

Here is a short demo version of the first chapter, if you want the link to the original book it is on Wattpad. I made it for two years ago and I'll start publishing these chapters for the remake on Garcello's 3rd anniversary.

Today the air outside was very nice, chill and easy in the city of Funkit compared to how it was last month. At least according to Annie and Garcello, two people who were like peas in a pot; that is if one was a pea and the other was a corn. Different and yet in the same kind of predicament, and they stick to each other like glue for this one reason.

There wasn’t a moment where Garcello wasn’t thinking of taking a cigarette, there wasn’t a moment where Annie didn’t feel like drinking, there wasn’t a moment where either of them had it easy. Yet, they made it through with each other every day with the occasional walk to McDeebles or talk about things they liked. Mostly music of course. However, this day is different for one of them specifically.

Annie is working on homework, homework to prove her grade in working with other people. It could have been anyone, but she obviously chooses the friend that lives with her. Garcello was like a zombie at first when Annie spoke out to him about color theory. Compared to Annie he is not as interested in learning things, sometimes even avoiding learning. For once Garcello is interested all the while being clueless, but he is being interested nonetheless.

“Hey, you aren’t doing too bad today.” The fact that Annie’s voice is trailing off as if she knows it would change any second makes Garcello give her a curious eye. Of course it was all playful looks, and they fought all the time exactly like this.

“What do you mean *Not doing too bad today*? I think I’m doing great all the time.”; was not something Garcello would say truthfully but it was a funny remark to counter her point, and he would do anything to get back at her. All this is spoken out of his own mouth as he also puts a piece of tape on the structure they have made together.

“And there it is.” Annie smirks lightly while leaning back on her chair, even wiggling her eyebrows while having half lidded eyes as if Garcello is missing something she knew about. That smug face she always made as if anyone was missing something.

“Alright, what is it this time?” Giving up easily; he let out a sigh. Completely turn the chair so it faces her way, and look at her intently as if she has something bigger than the color theory to speak about this time as if he is ready to listen too hard.

“I thought we agreed to use glue and not tape on the outside of the structure, you think you can just let that slip from my own artistic eyes?” Ogling her own friend like he had done the worst mistake known to mankind, she speaks with the tone of a teacher that thinks someone deserved a low grade. Garcello only let out a halfhearted laugh from the mistake he made.

“Oh yeah, right. Thank you for actually reminding me.” The teal haired male just smirks while trying to hold in a laugh from the information, and takes the tape off from the sculpture to undo what he had mistakenly done to the poor thing. It can not be the prettiest sculpture of Mario.

“Why would you let me do Mario anyways? Isn’t he number one?” Garcello spoke softly while putting some more papier-mâché on the sculpt so that the area the tape had ripped got fixed once more. When the creation is more uneven than Annie’s Luigi he wondered if it was strategy that made things better.

“I just chose to make Luigi because you are my number one.” The cat-like woman he called friend flirting with him once more is not a huge surprise, and that made him break into real laughter.

That is the end of the fic so far so just be patient until the time comes and it will be happening.

#garcello #smoke em out struggle garcello #fanfic #garcellofnf #garcello x reader #friday night funkin garcello #garcello mod #fnf garcello #friday night funkin #fanfiction

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bruehl · 3 years

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Elefantenherz English subtitles

See Daniel Brühl as a cute boxer in the picture above? Anyone interested in watching his movie Elefantenherz (English: Elephant Heart) can now watch it on YouTube with the unofficial English subtitles I’ve created and uploaded to my dropbox. To add the subtitles to the YouTube video, you will need the Google Chrome/Firefox extension called Substital.

Dropbox link to the subtitles

YouTube link to the movie

If you need any help setting up the extension, you can check the guide under the read more of this post or ask me in a private message - I’ll walk you through the steps <3

The subtitles may be hard to see if you use Substital’s default settings because of the video’s bottom white bar, but you can adjust them to make the subtitles background opaque. It might also be a good idea to make sure that you have YouTube’s German subtitles turned off (click the CC button to turn them off if they’re already on).

Also note: the subtitles won’t be 100% perfect because I’m not a native German speaker, but thankfully a couple of native Germans were able to help me with any lines I struggled with. I’d appreciate any feedback that will help me improve the subtitles!

So is the movie worth watching? It’s predictable, but I think so; at least for Daniel’s acting and rippling back muscles. You’ll also be able to say that you watched another movie Daniel thinks no one has seen outside of Germany 😉

Warnings just in case: swearing, violence, blood, but nothing too gratuitous (I would describe it as a coming-of-age movie).

Special thanks to the awesome German speakers @theartbooshlr @tinaxpow @bruhlpng for offering to help translate, theartbooshlr once again for answering my 10 questions (ily), @toobruhlforschool for double-checking the subtitles, @daniel-bruhls-hoe for uploading the movie, and @scuttle-buttle for being supportive <3

#elefantenherz #elephant heart #marko stemper #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #as always if I made any huge mistakes let me know and I'll fix it #the boxing lingo was just not easy to deal with 😅#boop 👻#resources #*

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hqcult · 3 years

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EYELINER ## suna rintarou

trying to apply his eyeliner would've been easy if only rintarou can keep his hands to himself.

. tw smut, dom suna, established relationship, fingering, oral f receiving, edging, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, mind break, unprotected sex, pwp . wc 4k

"ugh, he's gonna do it again." you mutter, eyeing suna's hand as it skims around your vanity desk for his favorite brand of eyeliner. for some reason everybody naturally finds themself drawn to suna rintarou, even if he was always so stoic and detached.

you hate how girls would flock around him in parties as they stare at his kohl-lined eyes or at the painted black nail polish whenever you disappear to get a drink, knowing full well what kind of thoughts are running in their heads because you, for sure, thought of him the same way. alright. we get it. your boyfriend can be a hot mofo if he wants to be and his idgaf attitude just adds to the whole appeal.

we get it.

because you love him more than the stars in the galaxy combined, sometimes you can't help but feel jealous when people get too close to him. you really didn't want to be that type of girlfriend but sometimes you just like the assurance that he's all yours and nothing's wrong about that, right? plus, suna seems to exceptionally love when he gets you jealous and feral. he may always pretend otherwise but he loves staking his claim on you just as much as you liked being claimed by him.

"are you done yet?" you say, staring at him from your bedroom door frame.

atsumu was throwing a party tonight and you were all dressed up and ready to go, just patiently waiting for your boyfriend.

suna replies a beat later, not bothering to meet your eyes. "just a minute."

you just want his attention all on you. you don't even want to go to this stupid party and see all these people shamelessly flirting with him even if you were right there by his side. you just want to have some alone time with suna rintarou.

and you may or may not have just come up with an idea to make that happen.

"where's the eyeliner? the one i always use?"

"it's not there? i know i left it there. wait, let me look."

you straighten up, walking towards him in your red leather mini skirt that can make any man's eyes sliver down to your ass.

suna is sitting on your swivel chair, leaning back in a man spread as he clicks his tongue impatiently. he looks good even in a plain shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, his athletic and tall build enough to make any outfit look good.

"are you sure it's not in the drawers?"

"yes, i already checked."

you pout, making a show of muttering "i swore i threw it in here," under your breath as you maneuver around his spread legs to stand in between them, bending forward as you rummage around where he's already looked twice.

you know he's staring at your ass. suna was never lowkey with how much he loves you in this leather mini-skirt. it's a miracle he hasn't landed a rough spank yet after getting a face full view of your ass.

"wait a minute, maybe it rolled under my vanity."

so you get down on your knees, making sure your butt grazes the front of his jeans and just like you predicted, suna was half-hard already.

it was truly such a stroke to your ego but you focus on the task at hand.

you arched your ass up as you bend down to look for the little tube of eyeliner, slightly shaking it side to side as you "struggle" to get the eyeliner out from underneath the table.

when your hands feel the cylindrical plastic, you retreat, sitting up straight again and proudly showing your boyfriend the eyeliner in your hands.

you made sure your eyes were as huge and innocent as they look, kneeling in between his legs, shins tucked in and hands in your lap like a good girl.

"i found it!"

you could've sworn you've seen his left eye twitch as he stared you down. you've been with him long enough to notice that look in his eyes. what are you playing at, huh?

you wait for him to speak but you can see all the gears turning in his head as he continues to stare at you.

you wait anxiously for what he's going to do next. maybe he'll make you suck him off, or he'll throw you on the bed, or spank your ass because you were clearly teasing him—

"why don't you put my eyeliner on for me?"

you stand up, opening the tube in as he shuts his eyes. you try not to let your disappointment show too much. fine. maybe you can just have a quickie later while drunk in one of the rooms in the frat house.

"why are you standing? come sit on my lap while you're doing it."

you were too busy removing the excess product off the brush to notice his eyes had taken a dark turn, contradicting the gentleness of his warm hands as it snakes around the back of your bare thighs pulling you closer.

"no, i'll mess this—"

"i said sit."

delicious shivers create goosebumps on your skin.

you know that tone. he only uses it when he's horny and he wants to bend you over. so maybe your game plan did work after all, yet you're staring at him dumbfounded with the eyeliner brush in midair.

"come sit. i won't repeat myself." he leans back against the chair, manspreading as he waits for you.

you scramble to straddle his strong thighs, muscles a manifestation of his hard work and dedication to volleyball. it was great to see him in action on the court but you'd rather he flexed those muscles when you ride his thighs.

you cup his face, getting all up in his personal space to apply the eyeliner.

you've long grown out of the honeymoon phase but why is your heart beating so damn fast right now?

your hands were shaking, perspiration was building up in your forehead, and you were holding your breath.

"are you nervous?"

"shut up, rin. 'm not."

when the brush first touches the lid of his eyes, a nimble finger traces the expanse of your whole slit over your panties.

you pull the brush away, hissing in surprise.

"rintarou—!"

"what?"

his sharp tone isn't what shut you up, it was the hand cupping your sex. the heel of his wrist slowly grazing against your sensitive clit. you drew a sharp breath. he smirks.

"go on. continue, doll."

you want to hate the teasing lilt in his voice but you know deep down you love it.

you held your breath, diving in once again to the task at hand whilst trying to ready yourself from his ministrations.

your hand slightly shakes as you start in the middle of his waterline, slowly tracing the bottom part of his eyes before making a small wing at the end.

you've seen him apply his own eyeliner so much you have this down to an art form. everything would've been easy if only he kept his hands to himself. you try to ignore the digit still feathering over your slit or the hand wrapping around you to bunch your skirt up around the waist.

for someone whose eyes are closed he's doing a damn good job navigating. but maybe that's how he shows you're his. he knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows what makes you tick, what makes you pant, what makes you moan in ecstasy.

"i can never resist when you dress up all pretty for me. you know that, right, doll?"

applying the eyeliner to his waterline had been fairly easy. the lash line, on the other hand, proved difficult. especially when suna's upgraded from tracing your pussy lips to dangerously toying with the elastics of your panties, slipping his finger under before stretching it to slap your skin.

as you try to connect the upper part of the eyeliner to the small wing you made from his waterline, you hissed.

"why don’t you pull them down?"

he chuckles at your impatience and you slightly pull the brush away as he finally shoves the fabric down. you gasp when the cold hits your wet cunt. the scent of your essence unmistakable and you know suna's holding back from teasing.

"as you wish, baby."

as suna grows bolder, the more your hands shook as you worked on his other eye.

just as the tip of the brush touched his left eye's waterline, he pushed two fingers inside of you, dragging them against your walls in a lazy manner that was so distinctly him. he curls his fingers when he fucks it in before dragging them against your walls when he pulls it out, slightly scissoring you. he uses his other hand to draw figure 8’s against your clit.

you swallow, trying your best to keep your hand still as a surgeon but you see the jagged little curves where your jolts of pleasure were too strong.

you never should've provoked him to shove your underthings down, at least then you wouldn't have to suffer through his fingers. they were just so long, so thick, and so experienced when it comes to pleasuring you that you can never touch yourself anymore without craving suna's own fingers instead.

you bit your lip, the hand that was cupping his jaw tightening as you try to fix the little mistakes here and there, hoping suna won't see them when he inspects your work in the mirror. it doesn't matter that he purposely set you up to fail. there'll be consequences if he isn't satisfied with what you did. may god have mercy on your horny little soul if rintarou thinks you were a bad girl.

"you just hate losing, don't you?" you hiss, jolting when you feel him slap your cunt. your knees nearly buckled and you almost fell off the chair if not for his sturdy hand on the small of your back.

"what are you talking about? i'm just fingering my girl like a winner."

just as you started outlining his left lash line, suna shoves a 3rd finger into your sopping cunt. loud squelching noises fill the room as your walls pulsate around his thick digits. the metal rings he wore brushing against your pussy lips as he fucks you knuckle-deep with three fingers. involuntarily, your own hips started moving to match his pace, shamelessly thrusting up everytime he shoves his fingers in.

he knows you so well. he doesn't even need to look at your face, he can feel you out by the noises you make. so good. so good. his fingers feel so good. fuck. fuck. fuck.

until he pulls them out of your sopping pussy.

"rin," you whine, folding into his shoulder as you struggle to balance your kneeling self on the chair. you blindly reach down for his hand, urging him to put his fingers back in. "rin, please don't stop. please please please—”

"i told you to put my eyeliner, not fuck yourself on my fingers," he leans back on the chair, eyes still shut close while licking his digits clean.

your lips press into a thin line, eyes dilated as a whine starts to threaten to pass your lips. you're sick of whatever game this is, you just want him to fuck you silly already! but as if sensing your thoughts, suna clicks his tongue and speaks. "hurry it up. we have a party to get to."

without his fingers to plug your cunny, your slick runs down the insides of your thighs. it's slow descent against your skin making goosebumps run up your arms, shivering as the cold hits your bare cunt.

suna must've known your anguish, he could feel his jeans getting soaked but he didn't care and you wish to punch that smug smirk off his pretty face.

your fingers stilled when you cupped his cheeks and leaned in to start applying a thin stroke of eyeliner to his water line. with a simple flick of the wrist you ended it with a little wing, just like how your boyfriend likes it. now, you just have to do his lash line and—

you let out an audible gasp when his fingers started feeling around your thighs, having an inkling idea of what he's tryna look for. true to what you expected, he traces the line of your dripping slick up your inner thighs until his fingers graze your nether lips, successfully collecting your essence.

you stare entranced when suna brings them up to his lips, eyebrows furrowed and almost moaning aloud because of your taste. the fact that his eyes are closed made you want him even more. his fingers pop out of his mouth, but you get the feeling it wasn't enough. he wants more. suna wants you under his mercy. he wants to taste and ruin you until you're fucked out and lying in a pretty mess on the bed sheets.

"so fucking sweet, my baby. you're this desperate for me? for my fingers?"

you snapped. you threw the makeup elsewhere in the room (though not before screwing it shut) before diving down to kiss him on the lips. all lust-filled and rough as you both channel the desires you have for each other. maybe suna was at his tipping point too, noting that he doesn't even bother to push you away.

with his strong arms he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso, never breaking the kiss before literally throwing you down on the bed, knocking the air out your lungs.

"rin!"

"whoops."

he's kneeling before the bed, the sheets ruffling when he pulls you to the edge by your calves, hot breath against your sex making you squirm.

"my pretty thing," the kitten lick against your pussy drove you crazy, desperately bucking your hips up and suna chuckles condescendingly. "but such a bad fuckin' girl, aren't ya?"

you yelp when he slaps the side of your thigh.

"who said you could kiss me?"

he pinches your clit hard as he enters your line of sight. suna has never seen you this pretty and desperate for him before. sweat making your skin glow, lips raw from your biting, eyes conveying your every lust-filled thought about him. the sight of you so riled up makes his dick ache and he wants so badly to fuck you already but bad girls don't get what they want just yet. you have to earn it.

"i asked you a question. who the fuck told you that you could fucking kiss me?" the acid in his voice contrasts the gentle way he caresses the spot on your thigh where he had hit you.

"no one."

you sob in pleasure when his hot tongue licks a stripe up your pussy before suckling on your clit. once. twice. sucking particularly hard on the third. before running his tongue swiftly over the bundle of nerves and kitten licking his way down your pussy lips. your thighs were shaking so hard he had to pin them down. he knows it's a sign that you're close, not that he's surprised, he's been stimulating your body for minutes now it was amazing you haven't cummed yet.

but then he stops.

a thread of your slick dribbling down his chin as those cat eyes of his stare you down. he watches, enchanted by how your chest rises and falls. another sweet release he snatched away from you.

"i thought so. what does that make you?"

amazing how he manages to sound so normal, conversational even while he's literally edging you like there's no tomorrow. what do you expect? it's his favorite punishment. he gets to see you sob and beg for him like there's nothing in your mind but his cock and he loves it so much. loves seeing you bend and break for him to please.

you sniffle, arm coming up to hide the frustrated tears in your eyes. "been… been a bad girl."

a hand slaps your thighs, brutal. eyes on rintarou when answering his questions. your eyes shoot up.

"and who's bad girl have you been?"

"yours."

this time he reaches forward to tweak your pebbled nipples. the sudden cold of the pads of his fingers making you gasp and spasm. your boyfriend straddles you and you shiver at the head of his glistening cock leaving trails on top of your thighs. but he doesn't make another move. when you sneakily try wiggling your hips for your sex to graze his dick, he slapped your thigh without holding back. you doubt it won't start leaving a handprint. you wait with bated breath when he grabs hold of his cock, the head angry and dripping, the only proof of his also growing desire for you.

when he directs the head for it to graze your nether lips, you almost cried another fresh batch of tears. his hand quickly brushes up to wipe it away, though not before feeling his dick twitch. you know how much he loves seeing you cry from the overwhelming pleasure he can give you.

"last time i checked, my name isn't yours. didn't i tell you to answer in full sentences when i'm fucki—"

"suna! suna rintarou! i've been sun-suna rintarou's bad girl!"

suna ducks to mark your neck and torso. he feels the goosebumps forming on your body. the heat enveloping the two of you as you both quickly shed any remaining pieces of clothing. he kisses you. sloppy. nothing but teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance as he cradles your face with his big hands, feeling the mushroom head of his cock grazing your thighs.

usually he'd appreciate you not cutting him off mid-sentence but he too has reached his own limits and right now all he can think about is drilling you to the mattress. "rin, please!" you sob, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"shh. yes, doll. i hear ya."

you were dripping wet enough that all it took is one deep thrust for him to bottom-out. usually you're quite hesitant when rintarou's rawing you but at this point right now, you doubt fucking with a condom would've felt this good. no thin plastic whatsoever that's separating you from him. when he starts to move, you both moan in ecstasy. the bed creaking under the weight of you both as he pistons his dick inside. "you feel so good, doll. so fucking wet and tight. look how wet you are. dripping for my cock, huh? this all for me? answer me!"

you hardly register his voice, the pleasure you've been craving since minutes ago now being crashed down upon you. it's overwhelming and you don't want it any other way.

"yes," you pant. the tears still leaking from your eyes as you claw at his biceps. "yes. all-all for you, r-rin! just for you!"

he stubbornly keeps hitting the spot that'll make you keen and whine, suna forcing your hips down and sitting up with his palms at the sides of your head. he wants to see you come undone, he'd love to grab his phone and make this memory permanent but he doubts his camera can capture the real deal. your moans and pleas reaching his ears, spurring him on, the beautiful way your back arches of the mattress, the way you physically shook in pleasure and you screamed and worshipped his name.

"rin! oh my god, rin! fuck. 'm close," your voice breaks, hiccuping from the onslaught of tears you can't hold back as blinding pleasure grips you in a tight vice.

suna comes down to snake his arms around you, pulling you infinitely closer as one of his hands supports your lower back, manually moving your hips to match his frantic thrusts. "why you crying? bad girls should be tough, right? aren't—shit—aren't you a bad girl? hmm? bad girls like you shouldn't be crying."

you shake your head, looking pretty and desperate as you meet his eyes. "no, i'm not a bad—"

"yes. you are," you groan, his thrusts particularly hard to shut you up and make a point. "you're a very, very bad girl. you don't listen to me at all. bad girls don't even deserve to cum."

"no! no! rin, please!" you say, a blubbering mess as you bury your forehead into his neck, licking and suckling at his skin to get in his good side. "i'll be good. i promise! please, let me cum. rin! please, i'll be good. i'll be good! only your good—ah."

"you fucking bet you're my good girl," he hissed, biting your shoulder before moaning, pitched and wanton as it threatens to snap the stretched cord inside of you. but not yet. you can't. not unless he says so. "it's me that's making you feel this good. this is my pussy. my plaything. repeat what i said—doll! repeat what i said."

you cried, screaming in frustration as his cock stills inside of you and you know he won't move until you oblige. "this is…" you hiccup. "rin-rintarou's pu-pussy. i'm rintarou's play-plaything."

"what was that?" he asks, hips starting to rut against you again in full force. the headboard violently hitting the walls. when your hands scramble to cling onto something, you accidentally shove something off the bed but you couldn't care less. "louder, doll. i want the whole fucking neighborhood to hear you."

"this is rintarou's pussy. i'm rintarou's plaything." you say in your normal speaking voice, albeit shaky and almost incomprehensible as he holds you firm against him, his cock embedding it's shape and size into your sopping walls.

"louder!"

he hoists you up into a sitting position, his hips fucking up towards you and you only realize he did it when you see the window situated meters behind you two. curtains-drawn, open for the night breeze to billow in. he wasn't kidding. suna rintarou wants the neighbors to hear how good you're getting rawed. he wasn't kidding. he was not kidding.

"go on," he whispers, breathy and teasing. "you'll do it. you're a good girl for me arentcha?"

fuck. "this is rintarou's pussy! i'm rintarou's plaything!"

he licks a stripe up your neck, hands coming around your neck as he whispers into your ear the words you've been dying to hear. "cum, baby."

and your orgasm surges through your whole body in violent jolts, thick ropes of cum squirting out your pussy as you distantly hear him groaning, your walls tightening and sucking him in with every aggressive thrust. rintarou quickly finishes after you, teeth embedding themselves into your shoulder as he groans. you knew bruises will form and you're going to be sore as a bitch but you don't fucking care.

"rin, i love you." you say, grabbing a hold of his face as you stare deep into his eyes. and you don't understand why there's doubt clouding in your head when he takes a beat later to answer, when really, he just can't help the sudden wave of emotions festering in his stomach as he meets the gravity of your gaze. the love and devotion in your eyes as he can only hope that he could translate his emotions through his eyes, too.

he smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss. it's sweet and gentle, completely unlike the one he gave you a few minutes ago when in the throes of pleasure. no. you feel every bit of his love for you in this one kiss and you don't know why you ever doubted yourself, doubted him. you've been together for so long and you're it for him.

"i love you, too."

but leave it to your darling rintarou to ruin the moment.

"but you'll never apply my eyeliner ever again."

. a/n » this was so self-indulgent im sorry lmao

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate (Birthday/Christmas Special)

Summary: Levi is bound to spend this birthday on his own, seeing that you're halfway across the globe as an exchange uni student. What he doesn't know though is that you have planned a huge surprise for him. NSFW 18+

Notes: sorry for any mistake you guyss please enjoy this

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: f l uff, nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, the sexies

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, I simply found it on Pinterest.

White heavy cream fell fluidly out of the carton it was stored, squeezed by Levi's calloused hand and into the small metallic pot that he rested his other hand onto. The mixture, an aromatic, dark brown hot chocolate, lightened in color upon a few stirs of his tool. Slowly with his hand he disposed of the empty carton in the recycling bin, making sure to wipe any stray droplet of white on the counter.

He blinked as his mind went blank, forgetting the next step of the recipe but only momentarily. His thoughts once again traveled to what troubled him, but he continued with his stirring in fear of burning the beverage he was set on making. With his teeth sinking dangerously at the tip of his tongue what he needed clicked in his head. Corn flour. A quorter of a cup.

He didn't bother tasting the mixture as he lowered the fire of the stove to the minimum, he simply marched to the corner built in cupboard, hands searching furiously for the porcelain vase that held this oh so precious corn flour that would act as the stabilizing factor to his hot chocolate beverage.

Seconds later he brought the fire to an halt absurdly, never ceasing with his stirring careful as to not have the mixture stick to the pot. He didn't like his chocolate adorned with burnt flakes or the taste they brought to his mouth neither did he like cleaning the burnt pot before having to pop it in the washing machine. As his hands reached for the cups he had set beside the stove beforehand to his alchemy, he helped the thick mixture in with a spoon.

The cups were immediately transfered inside the over; an attempt to keep them from any predatory fly that could have entered the apartment before Levi had a chance to realise and in addition keeping them sheltered as they reached a drinkable temperature. Levi threw the pot into the sink next, sighing to himself as he grabbed his thick latex gloves and out them on his hands. With a twist of his hand at the handle the watered started running on his gloves hands pot making him grab his steel wool.

His hand came to his forehead, wiping some sweat as he sighed again, hanging his head low as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes squinted in anger, his hands dug into the inox of his sink and his heart sink dangerously low as he felt the room run cold due to the sun quickly setting behind the horizon.

Why had he made that chocolate, it beat him. The two of you hadn't spoken in at least two days and he liked -or rather chose- to blame it on your busy studying schedule, rather than the fight the two of you had over that call two nights ago. He had been to angry to admit he was acting like a brat to you, he had been too proud to simply say that he wanted your attention, instead he had resolved his anger into grumpiness, causing your overworked mind to snap.

You were gone as an exchange student in Japan for too long and both your busy schedules and the enormous time difference had dug their ways into Levi's life very negatively. Before you he had never lonely when he was alone, but now, now that he had gotten a taste of what it was to be with you, now that you had been ripped away from him from so long, he definitely felt lonely. And angry. And it killed him that he was almost on time for your arranged video chat, when you didn't even show any sign of being in existence still.

It made his boil though, by now, it must have been the 26th in Japan and you had spent your day ignoring him, not even bothering to open his message. Had he been so cruel to you while admitting he wanted you here with him? Was it that you didn't have enough decency to let him you know you were alright? That was what he simply wanted to know, in the end.

Sighing again he ripped the gloves off his hands and grabbed his phone. His fingertip touching the button provided him immediate access to his homescreen and he quickly entered Instagram dragging the homepage down a couple of times to let it load any new activity. Internally he knew, he would have been glad if he was to see a story or a post by you, any sign that you were alright would do for him.

Of course, as if on cue to shake him of his miserable thoughts his phone rang, buzzing in his palm. His eyes fell on the small window the revealed the caller id to him. It was Erwin, naturally, as he always used to shower him with phone calls on his birthday even up until the moment he was at his front door. Levi didn't missed out on those signs of affection, it's was quite the opposite really. He cherished them deeply. Seeing how much of an impact he had on his friends' lives moved him whether he showed it or not.

And so, while holding back his saddened sigh he picked up the phone, greeting his friend through greeted teeth.

"Hey Levi, uhm, I kind of need you at the moment, am I interrupting anything?"

"No," Levi spoke, biting painfully on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold himself back from sprinting out on his frustration. Of course Erwin could try and hide behind his finger, Levi knew that much. The blond was aware he wasn't interrupting anything, but he was still kind enough to ask; he always was sappily kind when it came to such sensitive subjects.

"Great look, I'm on route twenty two, fifth exit, I'm out of gas can you please come to my rescue and bring me some?" Erwin paused for a moment and then proceeded to mumble through an overly amused breath "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you tonight."

"Did you take your father's run down car again?" Levi questioned.

"No... yes. I'm sorry Levi I felt like I wanted to drive his car tonight. I shouldn't have to drag you here too, I'm sorry."

"No it's fine," Levi bit back, hissing at Erwin's unhealthy habit of wanting to drive his father's antique due to its sentimental worth. But then again, he reminded himself he wasn't in a place to judge. "Give me 15 and I'll be there."

Fidgeting his fingers on the counter without throwing a second look he came in contact with his car keys. The familiar jiggling sound gritted through the air proudly as Levi pierced his finger inside the key loop, finally pressing the keys steady to his palm. With another grunt, he hang up the phone, bringing the device to the palm of his hand once again.

His mind begged him to open his texts with you again -his initial goal ever since the moment he opened his phone- just to stare at the screen or at his unopened text, his insides begged to boil with concern at the process but he figured had all night to do so, prolonging his misery could definitely wait now that Erwin was in need. And thus he simply marched to the hanger behind his front door, eager much to quickly get a hold of his warmest jacket before having to step out in the cold apartment corridor and consequentially outside in the cold December weather.

___

You forced Hange to suppress her giggles as you slipped the metallic key inside the lock to your shared apartment with Levi. With an exaggerated jump though Hange let out another scream fill the air, ignoring yet another playful rasped gaze you consequentially threw her. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as you kept on locking eyes, amused by the upcoming execution of your plan.

The plan was simple really. You had Erwin call Levi for any emergency he could come up with and only when he left the house you and Hange would sneak in, light up the aromatic candles you spent weeks picking. You would make some hot buttered rum and light the fireplace to warm up the house. Then, Hange would leave right when Erwin would call you to announce that Levi was on his way back and you'd wait for him with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay now let's see how much time we have." You said and rubbed your hands together to warm them up. Leaning with one hand over the wall you moved the heel of your left foot on top of your right one, pressing down enough so you could wiggle your foot out of the shoe. Doing the same for your other foot, you removed your jacket and hung it behind the door.

"Erwin said it will take Levi about twenty minutes to get to him, they shall spend about ten to fifteen minutes fueling his car, but he promised he'd try his best to delay Levi if we need to. And then add another ten minutes for him to get back." Hange spoke, fixing her glasses onto her nose.

"You think I have enough time to take a bath?"

Making sure to slip her shoes off after you, Hange nodded in your direction and proceeded to set her heavy backpack on the couch. One by one she took the candles and a lighter out, eventually smirking to herself as she tried to come up with a plan on how to neatly set them around the living room.

"Hange!" Can you put those in the bedroom?" You spoke, ripping your shirt off of you before your finger came to graze the side of your mouth as your mind sunk in your thoughts.

"Ha!" Hange huffed "as if you're even going to make it to the bedroom!"

Your cheeks burned as she spoke, eyes widening slightly at how your mind told you she was completely right. Of course you and Levi wouldn't make it to the bedroom at least until later tonight. It had been months since you had last seen him and it was his birthday, you wouldn't even be able to rip yourself off of his arms. Thus you simply threw a mellow smile at Hange as you sprint to the kitchen checking to see if you had all the ingredients you'd need to make your choice of drink.

Coincidentally, you opened the oven and your eyes immediately fell on what was inside. Your expression softened as two grey toned cups shone in your orbs, the smell they emitted deliciously filling your nostrils. You smiled to your self as you thought about how your lover didn't miss out on making your traditional Christmas drink.

It was unbelievable how kind hearted Levi was, in contrary to what people thought of him, you thought. Most of the times -and simply because he didn't allow otherwise- the only thing people who weren't close to him saw was a cold demeanor, a sharp tongue and a foul mouth. It all would be too ironic if they knew how Levi was behind closed doors. Taking notice of small everyday details, sticking to his beloved routine, cherishing moments with his loved ones, remembering everything most people would ignore about others and showing his love in the sweetest yet most Levi way were only a few of his virtues.

Of course he wouldn't miss on making your favorite strawberry scented thick hot chocolate, even if you had spent the last few days not speaking to him, even if as of now he remained ignorant as to why. You assumed he believe it was about that ridiculous fight and you could admit you purposefully riled him just enough for him not to expect to see you. You were sure, seeing he had shown a previous liking in surprises like this, that his jaw would hit the floor when he'd see you.

Guilt rushed through you at the thought of you making him feel miserable even in the slightest, but Hange couldn't just have you standing there, sulking in your anxiety over how things had led up to this moment. If you wanted to make it in time for when Levi came home you'd have to rush. Hange insisted on shooing you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, urging you to act fast, before Levi came. Sensing she was right, you settled for running to retrieve a new pair of underwear and a clean towel before jumping in the shower.

Stretching your arms to close the curtain behind you as you stepped on the white marble tiles you twisted the faucet handle to the right, letting a deep sigh escape from the depths of your chest as the hot water started running.

___

The sound of keys jiggling together filled what should have been an empty apartment, making Levi's arrival known only to you who stood inside the kitchen. He stepped inside a few seconds later, ripping his shoes off of his feet before slipping into his fuzzy slippers.

His hands immediately reached for the wipes and rubbing alcohol he kept on a stand right next to the door, silently grabbing a wipe and coating it in the strong smelling disinfectant before bringing it to his phone and keys. He spent a good minute cleaning the items meticulously only stopping when he felt satisfied to set them on the stand. He took a step to turn around with his goal to walk to the kitchen and heat up his got chocolate. Judging by the time he could still try to reach out to you before the day ended.

With a quick glance around the room, though he found himself freezing in his spot.

"Great, now I'm so shit mad I'm seeing fucking things." Levi announced -seemingly only to his own self- the moment he laid his gray orbs upon you.

"No Levi, you're not seeing things baby."

Standing up for your seat on the kitchen table you shot him an adorning look; your eyes squinted and your cheeks puffed up, coated in a sheer scarlett color. You silently watched as his eyes grew impossibly wide, flickering between you and each lit candle that showered the room in plenty of romantic golden light.

His legs were slightly trembling, his knees going weak at the sudden need to intake all of what was unraveling before him, but with his heart hammering in his whole body he only managed to part his lips before even beginning to thing if what to utter.

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday my Vee." You smiled again, mouthing the tooth rotting sweet nickname as you walked to him with open arms and a longing look on your face.

He wasted no time, even if his head was starting to buzz in confusion and uncertainty, he bucked in his stand before sprinting towards you. His hands quickly wrapped under your bum, lifting you up on him while prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. With painfully squinted eyes his nose nuzzled up between your neck and your chest, inhaling your magnetising aura sharply as he span you around. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, embracing his head in a loving manner as you couldn't supress your bubbling giggles.

His strong grip on you wasn't ceasing, not even for a moment as he began mouthing his questions; he didn't even care that his voice was muffled by your own form.

"How- I mean when?" He spoke and only hugged you tigher onto him.

"Well, you thought I'd ever miss this day?" You placed a kiss on the top of his hairline. "I was supposed to be here days ago but my flight got delayed, so Erwin and and Hange came up with this surprise plan."

Levi's hands loosened their grip on you slowly was you tried to slide down his body carefully; this breathtaking moment could only ever last for so long, Levi figured as he set you down. Kissing you was the next task he assigned to himself, but it could only happen after he got a good look at your face.

God, he had missed you so much.

So many months had passed since the last time he had been graced with seeing you this close to him and in the moment what he was witnessing almost felt too unreal. Your tender eyes looked into his with adoration and warmth, your chest dwelled with tainted breaths as your hands slowly came to cup his sharp face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't responding at all, I really had to leave to go to the airport after that silly fight we had, I couldn't just tell you I was coming." You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Although I was really temped to."

Levi wrapped his arms around you again and hugged you to his chest- this time he missed on levitating you if the ground, even more fiercely than he had done before. He simply huffed in amusement in the crook of your neck, mouthing a sole 'thank you' against you.

The next kiss you shared was maniac and passionate in nature. His lips didn't just graze over yours, the engulfed them. He sucked onto your tender flesh as if his life depended on it and you couldn't get enough. You found yourself grabbing his shirt, then running your hands through the short spiky hair of his undercut.

His slick hands cupped your own face as he pulled back only to catch his breath for a moment.

"I've missed you much I can't even be patient to talk with you."

"Me too" you announced, a hazed look masking your face.

You took a few leading steps to the couch, careful not to disturb the candles in the corners of the coffee table that before it, much afraid of setting everything on fire in your despairate state to have him. Your mouth launched feverishly onto his as you threw him onto the gray sofa.

Levi didn't fight it, not even for a moment. His tongue shoved inside your mouth, rolling around yours, slurping and cherishing each corner of your mouth as he took small intakes of breath through his nose from time to time. His tender hands loosened their grip on the sides of your face, the action eliciting a small whine from your occupied mouth but to was quickly gulped down by the movement of his lips that came to suck on your tongue.

You felt his fingertips travel down your clothed body, skillfully sinking underneath your shirt before restlessly traveling back up taking the cloth away with them. You only broke away from each other for a singular moment, breaths hitching and tinting the air around you, so much that you could almost ignore the way your heart sped it's throbbing in your ears. His hips bucked longingly int you from underneath, the friction already driving you crazy.

As his hands shoved longingly inside your pants you let another moan slip from the depths of your throat, though it was guickly muffled by your lover's mouth attaching on yours , making you melt into him. You felt his fingers graze ever so slightly over your still clothed crotch, painfully flicking their way through your flesh.

Roughly, he pulled back, detaching his want body away from yours while fixing his gray eyes into you. He didn't bother speaking as he tagged at the sides of his shirt, ripping the article of clothing away from him in such quick movements, as if it was the only thing getting in his way from getting close to you.

With hanger widening his eyes he stared at you again, prompting you to put your hands into him, to feel him all the while he run his hands into your form. He failed in exploring your body as he had wished though, with a shagged breath he only managed to bring you close, in a proximity that didn't even allow a kiss to be exchanged. You simply nuzzled into the crook of his bare neck, rubbing the tip of your nose in calm circles against him as you breathed hot huffs of air onto his skin.

His back was still so muscular and ripped despite his skin being so overly smooth under your tender touch, the more small trails you rubbed over him the more he sighed in greed and over exaggerated longing. Licking his lips with a constipated look on his face, he placed a tender kiss on your collarbone before traveling back up, just to teasingly rub his bottom lip over yours.

Breaking the kiss you grabbed his hand, bringing his palm close you your face. You teasingly picked his pointer finger, making sure to scratch the inside of his hand with your nails as you brought the digit to your mouth. His mouth, running ahead of his own desire to stay quiet, blurted lewd moans at your soft suckling and with all blood boiling in his body he was unable to even think about chocking down on his sounds.

He was on his back before he even knew it. It seemed like squirming was the way to go now, right underneath you as you placed kisses all over his chest and torso. With slow hands you reached for his pants, fidgeting with his zipper and buttons before wiggling your arms inside the dark denim.

Quickly, any remaining article of clothing was discharged thrown anywhere on the floor; you could worry about that later but right now you couldn't seem to be able to pay attention on anything else than each other. You had missed him, he had missed you, there was only so much that the two of you could process momentarily.

It was the high of the moment mixed with your scent that pulled him even even more as you craddled him to your chest while never ceasing the bobbing of your hips. The kisses that he sucked in you, sped up the beating of your heart against his as soft skin mingled with your own. Even that was painful to him, the extend to which he had missed you didn't leave any space for him to pull just an inch away from you, as if he wouldn't ever be able to get enough.

"My Levi, I've missed you so much." You spoke with hitched breaths, lips grazing his earlobe ever so slightly.

Levi allowed him self to eventually grunt in response letting harsh huffs of air through his nostrils while trying to guide your hips to an alt.

"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to last." He spoke, his fingering digging into your thighs to put an halt to your movements.

It didn't work -he should have known it wouldn't work- because you only slid down on him longingly and fast, sending his mind in the familiar pre orgasmic haze he so wished to momentarily be freed from.

"Who said," you paused only for another tainted moan to slip outside your lips "I want you to last?" You placed a kiss on the skin behind his ear, careful not to suck and create any loud noise that close to his eardrum.

Levi only threw his head back, his hips starting to work onto a hard, quick rhythm against you. He trembled under your words and every deep thrust, every feel of your insides on his throbbing length was only contributing to the build up in his abdomen.

He hair, sweaty as it was, stuck on his forehead as it dripped, but you paid no mind in his salty taste as you kissed your way all over his forehead and cheeks, nose and jawline, trailing your tongue on any sharp edge of him.

Your legs were shaking now and much to your best wishes you struggled with your thrusting onto him. You only managed to gyrate your hips, earning another moan of him as you ceased your movements, sweat dripping off of your own forehead as if mimicking his antics.

His hands nearly slipped from your thighs as wet as they were but he managed to get the message you were trying to convey; with jaded breaths he started thrusting maniacally from underneath you, damaging through you as pleasure dueled in both your bodies.

Yearning splashed all over his face and his grunts only got louder. Your foreheads collided as you cupped his face, noses nuzzling up, eyes staring deep into eachother.

Gentle. His ultimate indulge into you was gentle and earth shattering at the same time. His veins popped in white hot pleasure and his chest boiled with numerous erotic moans as his abdomen screamed throughout him, leaving him with barely enough time to mechanically reach just to pull out. His head hung low onto your collarbone while his head throbbed, unable to come down from his high just yet. He couldn't even move his eyes to see you, although he knew by listening to your panted breaths that you were in the same position as him.

Pushing him back to lay down on the couch, you kissed all over his face for the thousandth time tonight.

"I'd never ever miss this important day, you know." You smiled, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose.

"It's not that special, brat" he spoke shyly as he cooed into your face rubbing his upper lip to your cheek. You recognised the action; it was a habit of his to coo in such way, any overly soft thing grazing his top lip indulged him in endless calmness and you hummed to yourself in amusement to the feeling.

"I missed you."

"I know. You said that." He huffed, his lips puckering to hide the playful demeanor behind his next words. "But I don't think I heard it right, mind repeating it?" His fingers trapped your nose between them and swayed your head from side to side before moving to your naked back to press you closer to him him once again.

"You're such a tease. I love you Levi."

"I love you too," He blurred with eyes that burned into yours and proceeded to place a sweet kiss onto your sweat drenched hair "so much, you brat."

Taglist go off: @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi #levi ackerman imagine #levi snk #levi attack on titan #snk x reader #snk #AoT #aot x reader #snk imagines #levi imagine #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #Attack on Titan Imagine #attack on titan #aot season 4 #snk season 4

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crookedmusician · 3 years

Text

Once Again

A/N:- This is just a drabble that popped up in my head and is based on "The Amazing Spider-Man" universe, NOT based on the Marvel mcu. If you haven't watched the movies then pls read this with an open mind. The drabble is also fixed in a time that is five years after Gwen dies and is completely based on my thought and universe. Please don't read it if you're not comfortable.

Peter Parker x Fem Reader

Genre : Slight Angst, Comfort, Slice of Life

Warnings : Very Slight and descriptive mentions of wounds and death, the characters are all adults, Y/N has a defined profession for the sake of the plot

*This is also not proof read so please bare with any errors if there are any*

It's been Five years.

Five years since Gwen's funeral. Five years since New York city was almost destroyed. Five Years since an innocent boy lost his sanity to death. Five Years since Peter Parker was too late to save his love, his best friend and his emotions to grief.

It had been Five years since that faithful day that still seemed to haunt Peter from time to time.

After the......incident happened, five years ago, Peter had shut off. He didn't talk, eat or even go to work. His job was willing to let him off that time, but the mental pressure that had bundled up inside Peter's head had refused to go. As a result, even after Peter came back, he was only a shell of himself, an empty treasure from which the gold had been stolen - just like how life was stolen from the eyes of so many he failed to save on that one dreadful day.

But If anything broke Peter more than his incompetency to save the lives of those millions he failed, it was the death of Gwen. Death of the only person Peter beleived to have given him a purpose to be Spiderman and save the city and it's residents. His reason to survive every battle he fought. His best friends, girlfriend and his reason, to just live.

Peter still remembers that day, that moment as clear as day. He still remembers the catastrophe that was caused that day, the destruction, the smell of death and spilled blood that matted the air in a heavy silence. He still remembers how the life wilted out from Gwen's eyes as she fell from the tower, as he held her afterwards; he still remembers how her once warm body turned deadly pale, her cheeks stopped sport the regular blush - and they all haunted him. They Traumatized Peter through his day, haunted his nightmares and swam in front of his mind each and every moment he lived. So Peter did the only thing he thought might help, he shut off everyone out of his life, he shut off the flow of emotions in his being, & he swore to never let anyone in, he vowed to not care about anything except defending NYC against the new villains attacking everyday.

Cause Peter Parker may have been a hero, but his emotions flowed through his veins as thickly as the spider's venom in his blood. So promised, to shut out and never let anyone in. That became his coping mechanism.

Yet again, five years later that same spider-boy found himself in the exact position he had been in, five years prior - sitting on the bed of a rooftop apartment while the huge scratches on his chest were being cleaned by the slender hands of a young woman sitting in front of him. It was an awkward kind of deja vu for Peter - Both hurting and comforting to know that someone - other than May cared for him still, however the recollection couldn't help but bring those ugly thoughts back into the forefront of Peter's mind. The same thoughts that occupied his mind in the waking hours.

The scratches burned and sizzled under the alcohol, even though it was applied with softness and expertise; but Peter didn't Flinch. Yes, there was a slight wince here and there, but no reaction revealed was too strong. Years of constant battle against the seemingly never-ending villains of New York happened to make Peter a bit more cautions and tolerating of his injuries - something that seemed to work greatly in favour of Peter at the moment - so as to not make the budding doctor in front overthink her capabilities.

Was New York always so needy and loud for the Spider-Man? This was something that occupied Peter's head often.

However, when he thought back on it, perhaps it was better for him to put his life on the line than have someone innocent or desiderate to live to fight the devils.

I mean, he did fit all the requirements for this job didn't he?

He was young, had the abilities, tolerant of the aftermaths of the fights he carried carved in his skin, bones and blood. Moreover he didn't have anyone to rely on or care for - May would be able to live with him, his job wasn't so special to him if he didn't require the money either. On the contrary Peter thought it to be a blessing to die - to forget all the turmoils, catastrophes of the world; to forget how many villains needed to be fought or how many people needed to be saved - to just forget.

Peter always thought, that maybe he wasn't made for love. That maybe he didn't deserve it. He thought about how everyone he loved left him, deserted him and thinking back on them, he just wondered how much love favoured him in this life. Maybe love didn't favour him at all, maybe love hated him, maybe that's why death always won in each of his chapters. Maybe that's why, Peter had become a void - because love refused to favour the life of this boy. He never really understood why lover never looked upon him with a smile. But guess there was never really an explanation for some grudges.

But if love never favoured him, Then what was this sudden weird electric sparks coursing through his body? This weird fluttering that seemed to keep him up at nights thinking about this one person that flew in his life and and broke past all his resolves to nestle herself comfortably inside the confines of the walls surrounding his heart?

And Peter really never could understand what was happening in his body. At first he thought that perhaps it was his spidey senses. But after a while, when he actually came to a conclusion, he was dumbfounded. Being deprived of love and refusing the comfort of any other hands rather than his own for such a long time - the revelation - was actually quite unexpected by him.

But to say that Peter didn't see all of the unfolding and development of feelings, would be a mistake. Mayhaps, Peter did knew what was happening, did knew that he was falling in a bottomless hole; but the feeling of letting go, the feeling that encompassed the journey was so blissfull it was hard to deny himself the pleasure after denying it for such a long while.

So we recount to a faithful afternoon, two years prior, to an empty & silent alley in one of the bustling streets of NYC.

XXX ♤♡◇♧ XXX

It was just another day in the life of Peter Parker - waking up, packing his suit, taking an early leave or going on a feild trip for his job only to fight the villains and end up all bloody. The only difference was the gushing wound on one of Peter's upper legs that seemed way worse than his regular wounds.

Peter seeked sanctum in one of the empty alleys of the New York Streets to treat the wound only to find himself looking sideways at a young bespectacled woman with curious eyes, hair in a messy bun, clutching one strap of a heavy-looking backpack with some folders and pages in the other - she was staring at him with worry in her orbs.

Usually it wouldn't have been a problem, he'd hit up some pick up lines and flee as far as possible with his wounded leg and never meet the girl again - it was simple and easy without any damage to either his social or personal life. And it would've been easy and simple - Only if Peter had been wearing his mask. But he sadly wasn't, and now he gazed back like a deer caught in the headlights as the figure approached him slowly and cautiously and stopped a few feet away.

"Can you walk?" The words were almost whispered with caution.

"Excuse me?" Peter said in a breathless voice; swinging through the city with an almost torn-off leg does hurt more than Peter imagined, after all.

"Can You walk? With that leg of yours?"

"Yes, I suppose. But why?" Peter asked with confusion and weariness.

"Then please come to the top floor. I can treat your wound."

The clutch of the strap got a bit tighter as the words tumbled out of her lips in the hushed silence of the alley. To say Peter was surprised would be an understatement; it had been a while since someone willingly wanted to help him. But then again, Peyer wasn't weak, was he? He surely could handle that little much laceration wound on his own, right? So just like Peter have always done, to all his colleagues, his neighbours, supposed friends, associates and May, he declined.

"Thank you for the offer but I can Handle this on my own," Peter uttered in the same dazed voice, opting to turn his head down as if signalling the end of the conversation.

"I'm sure you can," the voice chirped again to fill the whispery silence, "to the best of your abilities, but It would be better if I had a look at it. I'm a medical student so I'll be able to ptch it up reall quick too. Besides to treat you'd have to either swing or walk back to your home, and you really can't do either with that deep of a cut anyways. So let me have a look at it, please."

"I said I you do-"

"No you can't, you may clean it or patch it up until you can do it up but the slash is huge, don't you see? If you don't treat it immediately, your whole leg would either get infected or you'll bleed to raw. And I don't think you'l be able to swing your way around the city with a half infected leg anyways. So Please for your leg's sake enter the third window from the right on the top floor of this building so I can nurse the damage. I'll try to get there ASAP," and with that the girl hurried inside a door on the side of the monument on right.

Peter however, was still failing to recover from his daze, and by the time her words actually registered in his head the wound had started to sizzle with wind. He gathered his own stuffed backpack and as slowly and painlessly he can, followed the instructions.

Peter swung to top of the building & crept insided the bedroom of a rooftop apartment that looked very comfy despite being a complete definition catastrophe to found himself in a pair of freshly washed shirt and jogging shorts half an hour later - the girl said they belonged to her father and brother previously.

Peter stared at the unknown woman as she wrapped up the incision in a white cloth. Her fingers were skilled & worked in a quick yet sure manner.

"You can handle pain very well you know?" The woman broke the awkward silence with a glance at Peter's face only find him staring back at her with a monotone face, "the area around the gash had already started getting infected, if I found you a bit later your leg might've fallen off. Still you're very lucky. Thankfuy no valuable nerve was heavily dama-"

"Why are you helping me?" The rambling was interupted by the strict and straight voice of the spidey

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I can? Am I not allowed to help you? You looked like you needed some serious help though," The woman asked tilting her head slightly.

"Is it a plot?" Years of practice had certainly helped Peter maintain a Poker face, which came in handy as he stared at the confused eyes of the woman in front of him - his heart deeming the expression to be cute.

"A plot?" The woman repeated as she looked at him in disbelief, "You think l'm helping you because l'm involved in a...a...a stupid gang or something that wants to murder you?"

"Or it could be an individual plan," Peter shrugged nonchalantly as he dared not remove his eyes from his supposed - captor.

"An individual pl-?"

"Why else would you help me? If not for your own benefit?"

At this The woman seemed to become a little pissed at Peter's words as she sputtered with her next sentences before finally giving a coherent reply, "Maybe fighting with evel people all your life makes you heroes feel as if good people don't exist but trust me, they do. And quite contrary to your assumptions I just so happen to be one of them."

The woman tied the cloth around Peter's leg in a tight knot & rose from her seat collecting the equipments back in her first aid box, opting to leave the room, offended - instead finding herself halting mid-step at peter's voice calling out to her.

"I'm Peter," Peter gazed at her retreating figure and as she turned around to look at him with judging eyes, "Peter Parker."

The words were uttered into the sunset in a softer tone - as if the speaker was almost shy, which - looking back at the circumstances - Peter probably was. And as the dying rays of the sun filtered through the drawn back curtain of the only window in the room - the one Peter had entered through - encasing the room in all it's ethereal glow, Peter was able to finally get a glimpse of his healer, clearly.

The rays fell on the bed and on womanly figure, bathing her in the delicate glow of dusk, highlighting her dainty features. She was handsome, very much so in the afyernoon light; and despite being pissed and offended a few mintues prior, she took her time in tilting the corners of her lips into a soft amd pleasant smile as the injured man stared at her in awe - that was perfectly hidden beneath his Poker Face.

"I'm Y/N L/N." The names etched itself in Peter's brain ringing sweet bells everytime, serenading him into calmness.

And so since that fateful day, it became a regular event. Whenevr Peter would get hurt - no matter how small or big the wound, he'd always find himself on the doorstep (or window sill), of the tenth floor building on the same street he never remembered the name of. And slowly as the days swept by, the visits weren't just limited to treating wounds. Infact, contary to either of their professions, Peter found both of them had quite a lot in common, and their opinions generally matched - and for the ones that didn't, both of their adjustable manners suited the situations. And as the days brew into nights, Peter found a companion in Y/N - one that Peter hoped lasted for life.

Peter found a best friend to look after him and talk with on rainy days and summer evenings.

××× ♤♡◇♧ ×××

Now, two years later as Peter sat on the same bed he had so many times before, he thought back on all the bitter and sweet memories Life gifted him, and perhaps they were needed for Peter to bring him to this point in life - and Peter never wanted to go back.

It was late. The sun had gone down a few hours prior and the moon glowed brightly in the sky, peeking in through the windows as Peter observed the familliar figure beside him - nursing another one of Peter's daily unwanted gifts.

She looked dainty, almost unreal as the moonlight illuminated the room casting it in the soft glow of night time. As Peter gazed at her, he started carving out all the plains and roughs of her faces, the shape of her eyes, lips and nose, the way her lithe fingers glided across Peter's skin - and Peter couldn't find it in himself to intrupt the dance her fingers were engaged in on his chest. A light breeze swept in through the wind making rounds of the room and messing with the strands hanging around Y/N's face as Peter gazed at the seemingly engaging spiral of movements infront of him.

"Staring is rude, you know?"

The peaceful silence occupying the room was suddenly broken, giving Peter a small start, as Y/N lifted her head barely so as to glance up at Peter's face, her lips curving into a small smirk at the look of slight surprise on his face, before her skilled hands resumed their work.

After a breif moment of comprehension - and more staring as Y/N wrapped up the gashes and stood up to starighten the sheets on the bed as much she could with the tall figure lying on top, Peter finally found his voice strong enough to utter the two words - that he hoped would convey all that was unsaid and all that he wanted to say but couldn't.

"Thank You."

Y/N looked up once again at Peter with a teasing yet soft grin and breathy chuckle, "Pete, don't be so modest about yourself. Patching up your wounds provide me an excuse to practise my skills on a regular basis. And as a junior doc, It's more benifitting to me that it is to you."

Peter let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as Y/N turned around to put the first aid box at the top of one of her bedroom shelves, "Still thank you, for everything you've done for me. I really appreciate it."

And this time as Y/N turned around to look at her best friend, she paused for a second, taking in the scene before her. The moon casted the same glow on Peter's form as it had on her back - except this time, the star gazed one was Y/N.

She had always wondered how she never once felt awkward with the close proximity, she always seemed to share with Peter. Her heart once whispered because they were menat to be; but the rational part of her brain was quick to shut down the irrational daydream before it could flourish. However the warmth of her cheeks when Peter looked at her, the tiny fluttering in her stomach whenever he'd smile, the warmth in her being when they hugged couldn't be stopped from spreading all through her body.

There were nights, when she wondered how it would be if she was brave enough to turn the page to the next chapter and just ask her best friend out. But then again, even though happiness was granted if the proposal was accepted - the pain, heartbreak and loss of warmth in their friendship, at the refusal was granted in a much greater probability. And thus Y/N drifted off to sleep every night thinking of all the 'ifs' of the world.

But this wasn't the world of dreams, it was the waking world, and as Y/N realised the soft glow in Peter's eyes when he looked at her, she wondered - no, hoped that her feeling might probably be reciprocated.

"It's honestly no biggie Pete. It really isn't," She neared the bed as she said the words, finally sitting upon it with one leg folded on the matress and the othe rdangling down the side, her eyes searched Peter's face carefully noticing the genuine-ness behind Peter's words, "however what is a problem is that you've hadn't had a single mouthful since the meager breakfast this morning. Honestly dude, don't you ever get hungry? If I wa sin your place I'd be starving! Heck, I'm starving even now!"

Peter let out a small breathy laugh at Y/N's dramatics. She always tended to be the more dramatic one, especially regarding matters of food. So sporting a soft smile he looked up Y/N.

"No I'm fine, I'd just have something to eat when i get home."

"Home? Do you even know how late it is?! It's," she hekd up the digital clock on the side of her bed, "9.15 already! You literally live on the other side of the city! By the time you reach your home it would be way past 10! I ain't letting you starve till then boy!"

By now, Y/n had stood up on her feet in front of the bed with her hands on her hips - and Peter found it to be way too cute for her, "Call up Aunt May and tell her that you'll be eating here today. I'll go and start whipping something up in the kitchen, ok?"

"Ok."

"Good," Y/N turned around & exited the room heading down the halls to the kitchen, to scour how much she can that would fill both her and Peter up, while Peter rested on her bed.

Ever since that incident five years ago, Peter had always wondered that maybe love wasn't really meant for him, that maybe love didn't favour him. But now, as he stared at the moonlit retreating figure of Y/N L/N, he prayed to all the love gods in existence, to favour him just this once as he drafted up the same confession, he had been drafting for the past years, to finally come out of his heart and in to minds of the beauty he called his bestfriend.

A/N : Pls tell me how you like it in the comments this is my first story and I would really appreciate the feedback!

Please don't repost or rwupload my work anywhere apart from here.

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mistaeq · 3 years

Text

Saturday, 26th December

Romeo!Don Giovanna x Juliet!Reader: The Masque

TW // mafia is mentioned, please don't take it lightly. Mista x Trish is implied, but I've aged her up.

Today I offer you this, which I'm proud of, and it doesn't happen often. So I hope you all enjoy this.

A darker point of view on Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Naples, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their ancient strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

Is now the two hours' traffic of my fic;

The which if you with patient eyes attend,

What here shall miss, my toil shall strive to mend.

"I will be honest to thee, if thou do not mind me saying so, Don Giovanna. But I am still struggling to understand why thou wanted to show up to the event." the golden haired signore slightly chuckled, after his councilor's words, who was now helping him with fixing the bow which perfectly fit his elegant braid. He never gave up on styling his hair the same way, and now that he was showing up to an event out of pure spite, he was not going to change that.

"It is not that I wanted it, my dear Guido." the Don said, fixing his cream colored jacket's sleeves, an amused grin animating his relaxed features. "They don't expect me to show up at all, all they did was inviting me, thinking I would have chosen to not to go. And make fun of thy lord's attitude. It would be rude of mine, to not to let them know how good I am doing, despite their several attempts to push me down."

"Indeed, signore. Thy reasonment sounds just right." the young councilor Guido Mista agreed with the Don, crouching to give a better look at the lord's image in the mirror and nodding in satisfaction when he made sure the bow was symmetrical as he wanted. "In addition to this, I am pleased to inform thee about my choice of asking Lord Diavolo's daughter's hand in marriage, as soon as she will turn eighteen. Lady Trish." Giorno's grin, if possibly, widened. His councilor marrying his worst enemy's daughter? Sounded just perfect, since she was gonna move in their mansion. By her own choice. She hated her father, and had agreed to the marriage. Great to hear.

"Thou spoke music to my ears, Guido. And I thank thee for thou fixed my bow properly." the golden haired Don stood up, and started walking towards the door, eyeing at his councilor's outfit. "Get ready, we are going." Believe me, he was about to touch the door handle, when a rough voice, who always allowed itself to speak too much, interrupted his actions.

"What about thy heart, signore? No love story nor marriage for thee?" The gunslinger dared to say, perfectly knowing his Don thought he had to keep on being focused on his own affairs, rather than have love related ones. He just liked to drop the question every now and then, but started being genuinely worried. Guido know how romantic Don Giovanna could get, and the thought of him getting old without getting married, weirded him out. At first, he used to think Giorno needed time to get used to his role as a boss in the neapolitan mafia - the biggest reason of his strife against Diavolo -, but now, years had passed, and it was getting worse.

"Tender is the way love might make this man change. Thy lord is not ready to face such a thing. Unless it is really worth a try." Don Giovanna's hand lingered around the doorknob, caressing it in an attempt to examinate a thin layer of dust. "Do me the favor to tell Ghirga that cleaning up every little thing, even the most insignificant one, is definitely not optional." the blonde said, finally tightening his grip on the door handle and exiting the room. Left in the whistling silence of the place, the councilor proceeded to get ready for the event himself. He knew his signore didn't like to make someone wait.

As soon as he came in the hall, everyone turned around him and his councilor, Guido Mista, who soon blended into the crowd, for his betrothed Trish Una gripped on his arm and pulled him somewhere else. "Bothering thy councilor is not my intention, Don Giovanna. I am asking for thy permission, to take him for a while." What else could the blonde man even answer, if not agreeing with it happening. Without any doubt, he was left alone so fast, he had now nobody to cover him, as his golden hair didn't blend at all into the crowd.

A pleasant smell of cooked food and wooden furniture penetrated the Don's nose, as he gripped a glass of wine from the servant who was walking around with a tray holding some. The man shook the crystal glass a little, before he smelled the alcoholic liquid, and took a sip from it. Then, he quietly snorted. "And this would be wine. I consider myself lucky, being these people's foe. This truly doth be terrible."

Giorno mentally commented almost everything in the hall, judging the furniture... "Outdated.", the people... "Seeing them stare at me pleases me. If they are willing to criticize my appearance and attitude, I will be even more pleased.", and the service as well. "These servants are just what Lord Diavolo likes. Being so useless, it pains me." he took the last sip from his crystal glass of wine. "Let me see how much will it take for some servant to notice."

No wonder, the signore was really full of himself, and he was right, for all the people's voices murmuring when he passed by, were coming from pure envy. Diavolo staring at him, from the top of a huge flight of stairs. Don Giovanna had not noticed him, for he didn't consider necessary the action of looking above his own head. Giorno knew he was the one to be already at the top. If so, it were others who had too look up to him. He had learnt he had to stand up to ferocious beasts too, and he managed, in his life, to dominate the worst out of all the beasts. Humanity.

Plus, he was extremely focused on what was happening in front of himself, for he could see, in the middle of the hall, several couples dancing. No need to specify, that was the place where Lady Trish had brought the councilor Mista. Don Giovanna couldn't help but slightly smirk. That man had always been so loyal to him, and he was genuinely proud of him for he had found a wife and helped his affairs at the same time. He watched at the curly, dark haired councilor moving his betrother around with grace, until they accidentally bumped into another couple who was dancing beside them. The Don was now elegantly chuckling, he was amused, he was...

...Love-struck. The couple who Mista and Una had bumped into, consisted in a young lord and a beautiful creature who probably came from heavens above. The angel apologized to the pink haired Lady with a laughter, and bowed to Guido in apology. The angel... were you. Diavolo's niece/nephew had made the impenetrable heart of Don Giovanna fall in love. Could he talk about love? He wanted to. All in a matter of two seconds, the golden haired man imagined you dressed up for a luxurious wedding. What he did not know, was that there would have also been Diavolo in the crowd, watching his archenemy marry you. He had no idea you were related to him. As the same servant he had taken a glass from before passed by, Giorno gripped her arm, and pulled her closer.

"What angel is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?" he frantically asked, his tone was serious and imposing, as if he was ready to squeeze the information out of the poor servant. But she knew nothing about you, it was not like she was a family servant. She was just there to serve for the event. "I know not, sir", the poor waitress said, holding the tray on her chest and trying to go back into the kitchen. "I apologize. Uh. More wine?" The girl also asked, as Don Giovanna remembered he had ran out of wine. But he shook his head and left the empty glass in the servant's hand, moving towards you to have a better look, not noticing he was right under the flight of stairs where Diavolo and a follower of his were standing. Then, he started to talk to himself, contemplating you.

"O, they doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems they hangs upon the cheek of night." he moved his hands together, in a similar motion as one of a prayer. "Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder angel o'er their fellows shows." Don Giovanna's fingers intertwined with each other as he spoke. "The measure done, I'll watch their place of stand, and, touching theirs, make blessed my rude hand." with his intense gaze, Giorno's left hand moved to slide on the side of his body, as the right hand touched his chest. "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

He made the mistake to melt right under the sight of Diavolo, who smirked in seeing him so vulnerable for such a thing. Nobody was there to tell him that falling in love with you would have been his end. The pink haired lord was not irritated, for even if Giorno had tried to humiliate him, the golden haired boss was humiliating himself now, over a fleeting love. The man on the stairs wouldn't even have needed to do anything. Not that he wanted it in the first place. He would have behaved, to show his superiority off.

But Diavolo's loyal servant, lord Cioccolata, had other ideas. "This, by his voice, should be Giovanna. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave come hither, cover'd with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at our solemnity?" the green haired man bent over the banister to take a better look to the supercilious Giorno, who, again, had no clue of what was right above him. "Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, to strike him dead, I hold it not a sin." Cioccolata murmured, but felt his arm get gripped from his boss.

"Why, how now, kinsman. Wherefore storm you so?" the servant's jaw dropped.

"Signore, this is literally Don Giovanna, our foe, a villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn at our solemnity this night." as the same servant who Giorno had talked to approached Diavolo and offered him a glass of wine, the pink haired boss smelled it and took a little sip from it. Then, grinned. He was not in the mood for violence. For now. So he had to keep Cioccolata back from every kind of bad decision. It wasn't easy, to keep such a man from murder. Out of pure honesty.

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, Cioccolata. He bears him like a portly gentleman, and, to say truth, Naples brags of him to be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth." Diavolo explained. It would not have been good if something happened to that man in his mansion. He was part of Naples' pride. "I would not for the wealth of all the town, here in my house do him disparagement: therefore be patient, take no note of him. It is my will, the which if thou respect, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, and ill-beseeming semblance for a feast." was he asking his most violent servant to have... patience over his archenemy? Yes, he was, and Cioccolata was speechless.

"It fits, when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him." the angered man replied, trying once again to get his signore to reasonate and realize they could get rid of him so easily if they wished so. The councilor Mista was even too distracted by Diavolo's daughter to keep an eye on his boss. It could have been so simple, for Cioccolata, to...

"Am I the master here, or you? You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!" the pink haired man slightly raised his voice - not enough for Giorno to hear - and made himself clear, so that if the green haired made any possible mess during his feast, he would have had to take his own responsibility.

"I will withdraw, then." the servant gave up on his ideas, but rudely. His one almost felt like a poisonous gaze. "But this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall." he said, indirectly threatening an oblivious Giorno. Talking about him, during their conversation between the two men on the stairs, he turned unnoticed until Cioccolata left. When Diavolo looked down on him again, the golden haired boss was now in the middle of a crowded mess of people who was dancing, people who was eating and conversing. He was with you. Finally.

Giorno Giovanna approached you in a way you couldn't help but notice. He looked like the sun, a golden being, it caught your heart as well. Neverending seconds of staring at each other followed, until... "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this." he gently took your hand in his. It felt warm. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." as the man said so, he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His sweet scent overwhelming you as he moved. How gentle.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this." you withdrew your hand and slightly chuckled, reassuring him it was fine. Someway, the two of you found yourself moving away from the crowd. In a more intimate spot. Diavolo couldn't even find you. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch..." your sweet voice was soothing the man more than you would realize. "...and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

Giorno bit his lip in anticipation, and gently exhaled. "Have not saints lips... and holy palmers too?" he asked, leaning down right towards your soft mouth, before you moved aside and, chuckling like an angel playing in a field, avoided the gentleman's kiss, jokingly scolding his mind with a mischievous smile.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." You provoked him. Where had Giorno Giovanna's temperance gone? He had swore to his councilor, just before leaving his house, that he wouldn't have let love blind his senses. And there he was. Plus, you did not know each other. You did not know who you were. You did not know you should have not been there together. Due to this, he gladly accepted your game, and chuckled back. God, he was so ethereal and he did not even realize it.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do." he begged, looking almost afraid of touching you, or your waist, or your own hand. How can someone fall so deep in love after having just met someone? Does love at first sight even exist? "They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Don Giovanna's tone sounded impatient.

But you had accepted to play his game, and now you would have played it until the very end. You smirked, staring at the blonde man's trembling lips. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." you said, implying the fact that you wouldn't have made the first step. It made sense, though. It was him, who had compared you to a saint first. Little did you know, you were playing with fire, for that man you felt love at first sight for, was your uncle's archenemy.

Giorno grinned, and hid you more against the wall, as your hands automatically wrapped around his figure. Though you didn't move in for a kiss. Until... "Then move not... while my prayer's effect I take.", said the man, grazing with his lips against yours, and finally pressing. You felt all your senses relieve and relax, as your hands grasped on the fabric of the Don's jacket. You didn't like your uncle's crimes. You wouldn't have liked Giorno's ones too. But you had no clue. And he had no clue you were Diavolo's niece/nephew. And you were in love.

His sugary sweet lips clicked against yours a last, neverending time, when he pulled back and thought staring right in your eyes was a good idea. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." Don Giovanna whispered, breathing hard against your giggling mouth. He hadn't stopped playing, you noticed with a pleasant feeling.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took...?" you slyly asked him, clearly wanting the kiss to continue, clearly wanting more, having no idea of how wrong it was. Having no idea of how dangerous is was. Though his eyes widened, and got even closer, so close to giving you what you wanted for the second time. You felt yourself growing so enamored.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!" he paused for a second, before he bit his own lower lip. "Give me my sin again." Giorno whispered, grabbing your waist with his hand and kissing you, almost desperately, but romantically, against the wall. He had been so focused on anything else, that he had forgotten the true flavor of love, and living it all again after he had swore he wouldn't have done it, was way too intense. Way too beautiful. Better than the art he'd been collecting the latest years.

When he pulled back, you instictively smiled and raised an eyebrow, silently chuckling a little. "You kiss by the book..." you told him, caressing his neck gently and carefully. If it were for him and you, that beautiful moment could go on for hours, days, even an eternity. But beautiful things never last. The two of you almost had a heart attack, when the arm of a blonde, long haired man grabbed your right wrist, ripping your dream in half.

"Madam/sir, your uncle craves a word with you." he almost managed to get you away from Giorno, when the Don grabbed your left wrist, and pulled you towards him, not letting the man, Tiziano to be precise, bring you away.

"What's their uncle?"

At that question, the almond eyed man smirked, as if he was ready to drop a heavy bomb on the snooty Don. "Marry, bachelor, their uncle is the lord of the house, and a good man, wise and virtuous. I nursed his niece/nephew, that you talk'd withal." as if Tiziano had read into Don Giovanna's mind, he added something else, just for the sake of making it even heavier. "I tell you, he that can lay hold of them, shall have the chinks."

Then the blonde haired Don followed the two of you around the hall, until he saw you get pulled upstairs by Tiziano, and connected his brains to what he saw. Diavolo, waiting for you upstairs, and Tiziano holding your arm so that you wouldn't have been able to run away. Four painful words formed on Giorno's whispering lips. "Are they an enemy...?" he asked to himself, looking at you up there, until Trish didn't appear as well behind you.

Trish wasn't happy to be there, she loved Guido Mista, but apparently Diavolo had called all his family back. And your presence there, only confirmed his fear. You were about to step back towards him and say something, but Tiziano caught your shoulder just in time, and pulled you close enough to whisper you the words you would have never wanted to hear. "His name is Giorno." he added more details. "Giorno Giovanna. The only appearance you should match to your great enemy."

You stood there. Empty. You and your forbidden lover had understood what was going on. And both your hearts clenched. And both your hearts suffered. How could love be so beautiful yet so evil, to make a man live and die on the same evening. How...

We all know how this story ends, we know about the pain, we know about the sorrow. But what if this time it made sense. One of the lovers is dirty with criminal blood, running through his veins, and you accept him, in the good and in the bad. Is this right...?

Or is death the punishment, for the sin that in reality your lips hadn't purged at all?

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part five #vento aureo #jjba au #jojo au #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #diavolo #tiziano #cioccolata #trish una #guido mista #narancia ghirga #jojo fic #christmas time #don giorno giovanna #don giovanna

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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

Note

Hi Days! I'm a huge fan of your work and your tumblr blog bc you give so many naruhina fanfic recs and talk about your stories, etc.

To sum it up, you're my favorite person lol, I'm a bit shy so I'm asking this as an anon, but I wanted to tell you something random just because I've always just thought about it and maybe you would agree or comment on it.

Have you ever listened to mitski? If you haven't I recomend you do bc she's amazing, but anyways I was listening to a song of hers called "washing machine heart" and it reminded me of naruhina, like the fic "together you and I" but different you know, like naruto only married hinata because he couldn't have sakura, she was his second option and every time he looked at her he wished and pretended it was Sakura, so Hina tries her hardest to look pretty and try to be the person he wants, always getting saddend by the idea that she isn't the one he wants, she knows his heart will only belong to Sakura. She let's him trample all over her heart and use her because she loves him unconditionally, maybe cry to her on some nights because he longs for Sakura's love that will never come.

I've read so many fanfics and I've never encountered one using this concept, I'd write it myself, but I'm not good at writing, maybe I'm reaching but it could inspire an angst story made by you or just a prompt or idea/concept for anyone to use. The hurt in this could be inmaculate and I bet a good writer could bring everyone to tears if they read a story like this. You don't have to do anything ofc I'll love you either way, I'm not meaning to push you to write a whole story with this concept by any means or to even post this ask, it's just something I made up/ related to this certain song, so I wanted you to see it, perhaps share your opinion or thoughts on it or just think about it. I love pain a lot hahaha bc I'm not a narusaku shipper in any way, I actually dislike the ship a lot.

Thank you for reading this and pls keep up the awesome work!! I'll always be a fan and support you and your spectacular writing❤️❤️

GAH What an awful fic idea you have 💔

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata are married. So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night. Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it.

And

“Territorial” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M, High school AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When Hinata takes advantage of Naruto’s desperation for love, they’re both a little too much for the other to handle.

Are similar to what you have there.

HERE’S MY VERY QUICK AND INCOMPLETE STAB AT YOUR PROMPT IT’S UNEDITED UNREVISED CANON-DIVERGENT AU RATED T FOR LANGUAGE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I COULD COME UP WITH 😘 THEY ARE NOT MARRIED BECAUSE I WOULD BE TOO SAD

...

Naruto finally makes it to the Hokage’s office, having had trouble shaking off fangirls on his way. He can immediately tell he’s the last one there, even though it’s the eve of the Rinnegan Festival. Tense expressions greet him, the atmosphere somber.

Sakura whips her attention back to the desk before them. “Rokudaime, with all due respect, I don’t think Naruto belongs on this mission.”

Her behavior has confused him all night. First moving away from him so that Hinata would sit between them at Ichiraku when Hinata could have just sat on the other side of him. Then pushing him to follow Hinata back home. He said aloud that he’d be seeing her later, and that he wanted to catch up with everyone first, but Sakura just glared at him...

She’s been pushing him away, more and more every day, breaking his heart to smaller and smaller pieces...whether knowingly or not, he’s not sure about that, but she’s never rejected him from being her teammate on a mission.

Worried, he meets Kakashi’s gaze.

“I understand your concern, Sakura.” His tone is heavy. His usual careless attitude nowhere in sight. “Call it just my gut-feeling...you’re going to need Naruto’s strength for this mission.”

Hanabi was kidnapped.

Hiashi and Hinata are nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean...?” Naruto finds himself asking. “I just saw her. We just saw her. Not even an hour ago.”

“When Sai reported Hanabi’s kidnapping, believe me, Naruto, we moved to notify her family immediately. Anbu can’t find them.”

“What?” The last memory he has of Hinata abruptly leaving dinner and running off without hardly a word nags at him, inexplicably tightening his chest. “She’s fine. Hinata’s strong. She can take on anybody. No one would dare-”

“Naruto,” Sakura interrupts, her gaze cutting sharp. “She’s nowhere to be found. And as much as you believe that, no one is invincible. Not even Hinata. We need to form a plan, otherwise we’re losing precious time.”

“No one is invincible. Not even Hinata.”

An emptying numbness invades his insides, discomforting slickness muting him.

This isn’t his fault, is it?

What if she needed to tell him something?

She was acting strange at Ichiraku.

Quiet, unusual for her as of recent...

But how was he supposed to notice? Should he have followed after her, like Sakura said? But they were supposed to meet at his apartment later on anyway, so why did she have to come out early like that and ruin the good time he was having? She knows how he hasn’t given up on Sakura.

She knows everything about him. She’s been his rock after Sakura tried to shut him down for good. So how can it be that she’d just disappear? There’s no way.

There’s just no way that she disappeared right after she left...

Hours.

Hours of wandering around in abandoned, desolate, war-stricken villages in god-knows-where, and nothing. No one.

He’s asking for the hundredth time, but he doesn’t care, he’s past the point of desperation, and anxiety-laced tension fills the air. “Taku, you really don’t see anything?!” The Hyuuga they have on their team led them into this godforsaken wasteland.

Taku turns on him aggressively, getting in his face in reaction, and yells, “What about you?? You think I’m not trying my best?! This is my family! Just because you’re Hinata’s boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re any more worried than the rest of us! You don’t sense her??”

No. He doesn’t.

His Sage Mode has never been so useless. In fact, he senses no one besides them in this place, and it’s with terrible unease that he begins to entertain the thought that she’s gone for good.

“There’s no one even here besides us! Nothing! Why’d you take us down here? Where are we even?! How do we get out of here in the first place?!” he argues back.

“Sakura-san was right! You don’t belong on this mission! I don’t know what Hinata-sama could ever see in you, I haven’t seen her smile in months!”

“What do you mean by that?! She smiles all the time! I’ve never seen her act so cheerful in my life!”

“So you fucking know it, too!” Taku glares at him with an incredulous expression. “That she’s just acting!”

“What the hell do you mean by that-”

And he doesn’t know what happened next, but Sai’s grabbing onto Taku and he himself is locked in Shikamaru’s shadow manipulation. Chakra’s sparking off his own hands, while blue embers warp along Taku’s.

“Calm down,” Shikamaru orders both of them. “We’re not getting anywhere if the two of you keep fighting.” He waits for Taku to loosen his stance.

Sai lets go of him.

Taku throws an insulting glare around before sauntering off.

Shikamaru sighs. Hard. “Go cool your head, Naruto.” He retracts his shadow, and Naruto wastes no time walking off in the opposite direction, far from wherever Taku is heading.

Yet Taku’s ridiculous words ring in his head. “That she’s just acting.”

But she said that she’s happy to be with him. That she doesn’t mind that he’s still in love with Sakura. She said that she’s just happy to be with him.

She said that. She did. And she wouldn’t lie to him, right?

She was just acting?

“You’re not going to finish your ramen?” he asked her on their date last month.

“No...” Suddenly, she smiled brightly, something she’s been doing more often ever since he mentioned that he’s always liked how genki Sakura is. “Do you want the rest of mine? I’m dieting.”

He scrunched his eyebrows at her. “Dieting? Why?”

“Well...” She looked thoughtful for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. “Naruto-kun, you like thin girls, right?”

He knew she was talking about Sakura. “...I guess...”

“I want to make you happy,...” she started. She bit her lips for a hesitating moment before continuing, “so I’ve been trying to lose a little weight.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to make of that. Unbidden, he looked her over.

“Can you tell?” she asked, her characteristic shyness lowered her lashes, yet she didn’t fidget under his examination, and he could tell how she was trying her best to have that confident persona he admires in his former teammate.

Despite her recent changes in attitude, Hinata’s still been so physically small compared to himself and everyone else. Under her jacket, he couldn’t tell if she looked skinnier or not, and even if she was, he doesn’t think she really needed to be skinnier.

But then she looked up at him with that heavy, hopeful weight in her gaze, and he couldn’t let her down. Not when she’s trying so hard for his approval.

He fibbed easily. “Yeah. You look really good.”

She shined another smile at him that made him feel good. Even if their relationship wasn’t traditional, he could at least still make her happy. He could at least tell her some sweet words and see her sweet smile and-

She was lying.

She wasn’t happy?

He never made her happy?

Then what was the point of any of it?

No, she must have been happy, right?! She said so! She told him so! Many, many times!

After all, he asked her. All of those times he thought she was faking her smile, he asked just to make sure, and she vehemently told him that she was really happy to be with him.

She said he could talk to her about all of it. That she could take on his heartbreak because her feelings were so much bigger than...

“Uzumaki Naruto.”

The unfamiliar voice has him leaping to his feet.

A man as pale as a ghost with piercingly icy eyes is floating down to him on some strange platform. “You’re really as pitiful as I expected.”

“Who the hell are you?!” He readies his stance. He’s not in any mood for games, and he’s ready to let loose some of his stress on this very suspicious character.

“Hinata’s fiance.”

“Hinata?!” Fire races through his veins, heating his feet, and he’s ready to leap at this guy. “Where is she?!”

“With me.”

His heart rate exponentially explodes, beating into his ears, his skin practically bristling. “Let her go,” he demands, and the threat of his words leaks from every pore of his being. “Now.”

The man almost snorts. “What makes you think she wants to see you? You only ever used her, broke her...” His collected expression hardens, and Naruto can sense that he has no intention of releasing her. “I’ll make her happier than you ever could.”

Several thoughts fly too quickly through his mind to properly process any of it, leaving only residual uncertainty and that deepening sense of his culpability in her sudden disappearance. But he doesn’t linger on the unpleasant sensations. “What the fuck do you know?!” And he’s charging at him, a Rasengan heavy in his hand.

The enemy is far more powerful than he appeared, immediately blowing him back with some kind of focused chakra. “Weak, pathetic.”

“GIVE HER BACK!” He replicates himself a dozen times, each of them throwing Rasenshurikens at the man.

Yet more of that strange yellow chakra protects him. He’s unscathed even under his shadow clone onslaught. “No. I gave her a choice, and she came with me. I’m just here to get rid of you, take revenge against you for her sake.”

He hardly comprehends the nonsense spewing out of the enemy’s mouth, and he rallies his clones into close combat, but the man manages to avoid many of the attacks while landing hits of his own.

Clones poofing away only to be replaced by more, frustration and fury starting to blind him into sloppier and sloppier moves.

“I love Hinata. That’s why I deserve her.”

He chokes on his own breath, and in his momentary loss of concentration,...

He’s falling.

------------------------*

aaannnnd that’s as far as I want to go with that. Imagine the rest of the team arriving in time to notice Toneri making his escape toward the sky, and I guess the rest of the story would sort of follow the rest of The Last...Naruto self-reflects a lot in a bundle of depression for a long time and yeah.

...ahhh... I encourage you to write the fic you want to see in the world ❤️

#anon #thank you for thinking i could do your fic idea justice #but in the end 😅 i'm sorry that this is a letdown #i'm not much one for angst you know #who wrote white lilies not me #thank you for laying the praise on thick 🥺 don't know if i'm deserving #thank you for reading!

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drethanramslay · 4 years

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Without You

Pairing: Logan x MC (Lexi Cahill)

Masterlist

Word count: 2.5 K words

Warning: Just a little cursing, here and there and Angst

MC is actually not present in this fic, this is Logan's POV, four months after he had to leave LA

Author's note: I decided to take part in @rodappreciationweek so here is my submission :))

Thanks to @choicesarehard @brightpinkpeppercorn and @client-327 for hosting this 💙

Thanks to @mvalentine for pre-reading it❤️❤️

Title inspiration: Without You by Avicii (ft. Sandro Cavazza)

Song: Gone by Blake Rose

Forgive me if I make any mistakes.

The rays of the sun spilled through the crack in my curtains, making the white walls a yellow hue. My eyes were bleary and red rimmed. It had just been moments since I woke up and my hangover struck me like a train wreck, a familiar electric pain behind my eyes.

I shouldn't have drank so much.

I moved my head to only see an an empty bed side. Of course she left. Who would want to stick around after a one night stand?

The hazy memories of last night filtered through my head, making me wince. Another night, another rave, another tray of shots and another chick to bang.

You could call it saturday shenanigans but, this was different.

Everything was different since I left her.

All my days just seem to melt away into a haze of alcohol and drugs... Today, tomorrow, yesterday seems to fuse into this neverending torture, an ache which no matter how much I drink or how many girls I fuck, never fucking ceases to hurt. The only thing which can fix this gaping wound in my heart is Lexi.

But she is not here.

And never will be.

So this is how it has been for the past weeks. Me getting inebriated to new extremes just to numb the pain and to temporarily erase the loneliness before I become sober again.

Because when I'm in those intoxicated wastelands, I'm so out of it that I can almost hallucinate her dancing with me. I can almost smell her strawberry shampoo, tickling my nose. I can almost hear her tinkling laugh.

And in my alcohol induced sleep, I dream of her in my arms the both of us fitting together, like two jigsaw puzzles.

I despise being sober. Because when I am In my senses, the entire load of loss weighs down on me, crushing me and suffocating me. The 'could have been's' and the regret are all a heavy burden on my shoulders.

A small part of me is often wishing, praying and hoping that things could just go back to normal but, deep in my gut I know, that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

Nothing is ever going to be the same, now that she was gone...

How much time does it take to get over people?

It may be a day, a week, a month or a year. There is no definitive time span for getting over someone you loved, someone you cherished or someone who was close to your heart.

I think it depends on how much of an impact the said person had on you or how much of a void that person left in you.

I was the wild and carefree guy, with no strings attached and never saw myself being the one to fall in love because... Let's admit it, love is a vulnerability, a weakness which people don't hesitate to exploit.

But fast forward to four months later, I am in the same category as those emotional pussies crying over a breakup.

Being brought up in foster homes made me grow up quickly. Some houses were good and caring whilst some were harsh. And knowing that I am the most cursed person to walk the earth, I was always was stuck with the shitty households.

Don't believe me? I still have those scars from the fights and the beatings.

Growing up in such a hostile environment, taught me that there is no room for weakness or error and that love and feelings are just some fairy tale myth which is made by philosophical fools to give you a sense of hope.

But, hope is a dangerous thing, two side of the same coin. It can make you and break you.

I don't think I would have survived my childhood but... That's when I fell in love with cars.

It holds a special place in my heart.

The way my adrenaline spikes as the pointer on my speedometer achieves unattainable speeds, the way I feel the purr of my engine resound through my entire body and they way it's just me, my car and the open road... Nobody could ever compare to that sensation of freedom.

Well, that was before I met her.

Lexi Cahill.

I admit it started off as a way to recruit her as an informant, a tool to stay out of prison, another heart to break.

But little did I know that life would pull the fucking reverse uno card on me. But, I'm low-key glad it did.

It's been 4 months since that scum bag was thrown into the jail.

Four months since the crew went its separate ways.

Four months since I walked away from her.

I don't want to let you go...

Those words were on a repeat in his head, like a broken tape recorder and her teary eyes and broken expression is forever burnt into his brain. It was so hard to let her go. The one time I found a reason to stay, a reason to fight for, a reason to stop running, life just fucked it all up.

It was a tussle, a war between what my heart wanted and the logical side of me which just left me exhausted.

In conclusion, heartbreak sucks.

I reach for my phone and switch it on to check the time. But my eyes fall on our prom photo which I had made as my wallpaper. It's really stupid how head over heels I'm in love with her.

But it's the truth.

There is a saying that life gives you only one great love and that many people go for years without that.

I was one of the few lucky people to get that at 18.

But life is not sunflowers and unicorns shitting rainbows. It's rough, it's hard with its a mix of ups and downs. But it seems like mine is set to be on the all time low.

Staggering to the bathroom, I heavily leaned against the counter, my muscles flexing as I gripped the edge. My eyes lifted to see my reflection staring back at me.

I look like a hot mess.

This isn't you Logan... My inner conscience said, which eerily sounded like her.

God, I really must be losing it, huh?

Slowly and painfully I started my morning chores, my body on auto pilot. My mind kept on wandering to Lexi. She would be in Langston by now.

Would she be in that off shoulder sweater of hers, her feather tattoo peaking from underneath the sleeve? Would she be highlighting and colour coordinating her notes like she always did?

Would she have made new friends? Or dare I say a new boyfriend?

Logan stop hurting yourself. I said to myself as I visibly cringed at the thought of someone else having their arms around her.

The idea of someone else kissing her soft lips or someone else holding her hands or someone else running his hands along the curvature of her naked back made me equal parts angry and sad.

Angry for you know, obvious reasons but sad for the life I had to leave behind in LA.

God I hate this existential crisis shit... It's to early to question life.

I dragged myself in the direction of the kitchen, the smell of bacon waking me up. I was shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants because I was too fucking tired to wear anything else.

"Look who has decided to grace us with their presence."

"Shut up Carl, it's too early for your bullshit." Raven said as she slapped the top of his head.

I shot her a look of gratitude as I sank into my seat and reached for the plate of pancakes.

Carl and Raven were the closest thing to parents for me. Carl was a tough man with huge muscles, around six feet tall but, he was as goofy as a child. Raven was his girlfriend who was hella intimidating. The kohl lined eyes and the floral tattoo on the side of her shaven head made her look fierce. Both of them were in their early thirties and ran the Detroit Central crew.

We three were in a different crew when I was 15 and they really took a liking for me. They taught me everything I know and they are the family that I always came back too.

I dug into my breakfast, eating slowly and savouring the sweetness of the maple syrup.

"Thank god you are atleast eating now." Raven said as she ruffled my hair and turned towards the sink.

I shrugged and Carl picked up the newspaper to read, settling into his seat. Suddenly, the bell rang which had all of our backs becoming as stiff as a rod.

"Were you expecting someone, darlin'?" Raven asked, trying to peak through the windows.

"Don't get up, I'll do it." Carl said as he picked up the gun on the counter and pushed it into the back pocket of his cargo pants.

I was frozen, terrified. I had been very careful in escaping but me being the reckless fool and getting drunk seven ways to Sunday may have tipped them off.

I'm such a colossal dumbass.

I could hear Carl's gruff voice talking but I couldn't peek at the person on the other side of the door. I just sank further into my seat, hoping that it was some lost person and not the FBI.

"Boy this one's for you." He moved aside and the person I least expected to see walked in.

"You look like shit."

"Good morning to you too, asshole." I rolled my eyes.

Colt walked into the kitchen, wearing his trademark leather jackets and dark jeans. His combat boots made a thud sound with each step which made my headache worse.

"Will you be okay, Lo-lo?" Raven asked, her eyes flitting to the jerk standing in her kitchen.

Colt snorted at the nickname but luckily kept his mouth shut.

"Yep Ra. Meet Colt Kaneko. Colt meet Raven and Carl." I spoke at I stood up and put my dirty dishes in the sink.

"Oh you are Kaneko's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"We heard about what went down in LA. Our condolences. He was a great man."

He gave a nod. It was a sore subject for me as well. That night in the alley, I wished I could take it back. I usually am not one to regret what I spew but whatever I said to Kaneko is another burden I'm gonna carry all my life.

"Also heard about your crew busted the Brotherhood? You were the mastermind behind it right?" Carl said as he crossed his arms.

"As much as I would love to take the credit, it was Lexi who came up with the plan." Colt said his eyes darted towards me, gauging my reaction.

"The newbie? Heard she drives like the wind-"

Hearing her name felt like an iron fist clenching my heart. That name will always be the source of my happiness, my cherished memories and my melancholy.

"Colt let's take this to the backyard, shall we?" Logan spoke up, interrupting them.

He walked to the back door and Colt followed him wordlessly. It a sunny day but a cool breeze blew which provided some kind of relief.

I reached to take out two beers from the cooler and handed him one. Colt raised an eyebrow.

"Beer... At ten in the morning?"

I shrugged as I popped the bottle cap off mine. "It's 5pm somewhere else."

"That's true too. Cheers." We clinked the necks of our bottles and took a sip as we sat down on the patio chairs.

I turned towards him. "So what brings you to Detroit?"

"To see your pretty face?" Colt said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

I snorted. "Always knew you had a thing for me, pretty boy."

"Always knew that you had an ego the size of Jupiter, dickhead. Some things just don't change."

I sighed. "Can't say the same for me through. Everything is different now."

Surprisingly, Colt didn't mock him. He stared down at the bottle in his hands. "Yeah... I can understand. How are you holding up?" He asked as he turned to face me.

I took a huge gulp of my beer before responding, my eyes staring at the mango tree in my neighbor's back yard.

"Not too good. It's been hard for the last couple of months. Kaneko's death, leaving LA and maintaining a low profile... It's been tough."

Life without Lexi is tough.

"Yeah I can understand. I still imagine pops opening the door to wake me up. And don't get me started on the FBI... bunch of bloodsuckers." He muttered the last part.

I snorted. "I'll drink to that."

"Good thing they are off our backs now." Colt spoke eyeing him from the corner of his eyes.

I scoffed. "Bitch please. They are anything but lazy. They are gonna continue hunting us down till the end of time."

"I meant that we are not the top priorities at the moment. Sure Mona was sent to jail but, a little birdie told me that they are after this 'world class' thief at the moment."

"That's a relief I guess."

"Do you know what this means?" He asked taking another sip of beer.

"It's too early for my brain to function. Come to the point, asshole."

"We are rebuilding the crew, dickhead."

My eyes widened. "No way."

"Yup." He said popping the 'p'. He downed the remainder of his beer before standing up. "I'm done repairing the garage. We have a job in two months and I need a crew for that. I already have Ximena on board and now I'm gonna go over to Toby's."

My mind was swimming. Mercy Park Crew was coming back for good.

I looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "What about Lexi?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I said I'm rebuilding the crew, I also meant recruiting Lexi, dumbass."

Oh god.

She is going to come back.

I was frozen in my place once again. I had often asked myself how I would react if I got the chance to meet her again. I always imagined that I would let out the loudest cheer and dance like a mad man.

But this is reality and my thundering heart was a reminder of that.

"Why are you sitting there with your mouth open like a fish? Go! Get your girl."

And that was it. I rushed to my room, put on some decent clothes and haphazardly stuffed my things into my satchel. Grabbing my keys and yelling a quick good bye to Raven and Carl, I was out and in my 2005 Devore GT.

Reving the engine I took off on the roads of Detroit, heading for the highway.

The window was open and the breeze threaded through my unruly hair, making me feel alive. My hands clutched the wheel and my foot pressed down on the accelerator, speeding through the empty streets.

For the first time, in a very long, the roads which felt like a never ending maze for me, were the very ones which were the path to my freedom.

The path to my happiness.

The path to my Lexi.

I hope you liked it 😊

Logan x mc: @kaavyaethanramsey @openheart @skylarklyon @shadowycreatorpaperopera @pixelberryownsme @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @anotherbeingsworld

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @rookie-ramsey @dailydoseofchoices @colossalpainintheass @siaramsey @raleigheffingcarrera @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie @junggoku @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine @crazynutella @hatescapsicum @dr-ramseys-rookie @lilypills @decadentwinnerjudgedream @choicesficwriterscreations @nooruleman @anonymously-cool @sanvivrma

#anushka writes #logan x mc #logan rod #ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices rod #rod choices #rodaw #rod appreciation week #colt kaneko #rod colt #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #choices #pixelberry #playchoices #rodappreaciationweek

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benka79 · 3 years

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I know no one is reading this madness but... I just have to scream about the Tom Paris x Harry Kim subtext...

Timeless

Writers gave us two KimRis parallels...

First... Janeway asking Chakotay to have dinner with her. (With romantic hints all over)

While this was happening, Tom and Harry were close with each other. And Harry ends up gesturing to his best buddy platonic friend. It means. Writers showed us TWO RELATIONSHIPS in the past.

Then... Present... Chakotay had a new love and he was willing to not change the past to stay with this new lover...

Oh man, he changed Janeway for that girl, even when the producers made him stare longingly and sadly at our Captain. (Once when she asked Chakotay to dinner with her and the second time when she was dead and frozen on the bridge).

But... Why Harry hadn't doubts about turning back time??? Okay, we could think GUILT! REGRETS!

But because he mentioned they lost THE PEOPLE THEY LOVED... And he was willing to die for them... And he wouldn't change his mind... And they put that parallel with J/C... I will conclude, yeah, he was doing this because he wouldn't change ANYONE IN HIS FUTURE FOR HIS JUST PLANOTIC BUDDY TOM.

Now, the message Harry o himself to repair his mistake... Is linked to Tom Paris's letter to his father. Or how I like to call it, the letter he wrote for his own growth.

30 Days

Even when we got another rewind in Tom Paris career... From Lieutenant to Ensign, this episode represented again his huge issues with his father but it talked about what's inside Tom.

I'm gonna divide this insights in two parts.

Tom's Fantasy World: Captain Proton

Something that could start like a game, was playing a very important part of Tom inner thoughts.

The whole adventure of Captain Proton resume Tom's fantasies and deeper desires. Because deep inside Tom wants to save the day and be a hero. He needs to proof he is worthy by being a superhero. But mostly, he is always saving the girl in danger. And when I say the girl in danger, I'm talking about Harry. Because Harry represents the imposible love interest he wants to reach. In this episode he arrives to save Harry again but this time from the evil Delaney's twins. But Harry shows him he wanted more time with the evil girls. (Imagine Tom trying to save Harry from women just to show him that he should be his only hero in that story, in his fantasy.)

When they go out from the Holodeck, Paris talks again about the letters... (Because they're trying to fix the letters they got, one of them is Paris's father letter)

PARIS: Any progress on those starcharts?

MEGAN: I'll have them to you by fourteen hundred.

The fact that Paris is bringing back that to us is because again, something very meaningful related to his father will happen. Because this evil letter made his character to go backwards in his behavior. Remember?

But then... Look at this:

PARIS: I think Jenny really likes you.

KIM: Yeah, I know.

PARIS: I thought the feeling was mutual.

KIM: How many times do I have to tell you? I like Megan, but she won't give me the time of day.

PARIS: What is the difference?

KIM: You can't be serious.

PARIS: They're the Delaney sisters, Harry. They're twins.

KIM: Are you kidding? They're nothing alike. Jenny's aggressive and sometimes annoying. But Megan, she's quiet, artistic, and she's got that cute little dimple in her right cheek.

PARIS: Jenny doesn't have the dimple?

KIM: No dimple.

Okay, I will stop here. Pay attention to this because I'm in awe here of the amount of subtext: THIS IS A LOVE TRIANGLE AND IS A BLATANT REPRESENTATION OF B'ELANNA->TOM->HARRY.

Tom tried to show a point to Harry because Delaney's sisters, here representing women, are the same to him BECAUSE HE WANTS TO SHOW HIS FRIEND WOMEN ARE THE SAME. SHOULD HARRY TASTE THE RAINBOW THEN? 😂

And because is a Tom's episode, is Tom centric so... Jenny is B'elanna, because she's aggressive and sometimes annoying. Harry is Tom here, because B'elanna likes him. But Harry/Tom is in love with Megan, because Megan is quiet, artistic, and she's got that cute little dimple in her right cheek. This is screaming HARRY all over even the dimple!!!!

Gif credit @skjc-writes

But the sad thing here is Harry saying IS AN UNREQUITED LOVE. And then Tom adding this...

PARIS: Well, you've done it again, Harry.

KIM: What?

PARIS: Fallen for the unattainable woman. First it was a hologram, then a Borg, and now the wrong twin.

I'm screaming here!!!! Because HARRY IS UNANTTAINABLE TO TOM!!!!!! ARE YOU READING THISS?? Of course no, I'm alone here, but, nevermind. 😂

Deep Inside Tom's Ocean

Another huge symbolism was the ocean planet and how they needed to go deeper to find the truth about the instability of that world.

The Ocean was a symbolic representation of Paris. We had a whole world installed almost in the surface of the waters that was about to fall down. It was an entire society.

When Tom decides to go deeper, they found another contractions that belonged to an older society who had lived there before. But... What was there wasn't the source of their incoming destruction. The new society was the one carving their own graves.

How we could read this related to Paris? Well, as I said, imagine the ocean is Tom. The society and buildings that are next to the surface is the self-destructive personality Tom had created in order to face his failures in trying to fulfill his father's expectations.

The old society buried in the bottom of the ocean is his true self. He's sensitive, and creative, and innocent like a child. But he abandoned that purity to build the surface. Because his true feelings wouldn't be accepted by his father. (This include his bisexuality).

Throughout the whole episode they repeat that the old society in the bottom of the sea IS NOT GUILTY for the incoming destruction. So, Tom's deepest feelings and thoughts and fantasies, what he really is, is not the cause of his self destruction.

The bad people here is the new society, that fake shield Tom had built for years to carry his low self esteem created by his incapability of fulfill his father's expectations. It's a self-destructive personality and is not who he really is.

The bad thing is, Tom is trying to destroy it, but Janeway blocked him. He couldn't... And he is still in his emotional prison.

Finish the Letter.

Tom starts recording a message to his father. It starts as if he was apologizing, but it will end as a compilation of his true desires. He wants to fight for what he feels is worthy. And sometimes you just have to take the risk.

The fact that Harry went to see him and not B'elanna is very meaningful and it shows why is Paris pining for him more than for B'elanna. But it also shows why Paris feels Harry is the unattainable love for him. And it show in the fact that Tom was avoiding Harry's eyes. He felt ashamed. He was ashamed of the man his friend had to see. His rank had been lowered. He was in prison again. Even after confessing behind the mask of a fantastic adventure of a ship that Harry was his NUMBER ONE.

He was feeling again he didn't deserve Harry he didn't deserve to be visited by him. He even let his self destructive personality to show again, but Harry, with eyes full of pain, gives Paris an advice that will close some of his wounds.

Harry is the one waking him up from the nightmare of deception. That's a huge symbolism because even with Harry there, bringing him back to reality, Tom will relate that with the fact that he feels he left down Harry too.

Harry asks Tom to finish his letter. To start healing that huge damage he has inside, the voice of his father yelling at him to do this and that, to be better. To not be what he wanted to be.

Finish the Letter for his father, because it will help him. Even if his father never hear it. Tom did it. He finished the letter. And then in his fantastic world of Captain Proton B'elanna repeats those words to him he really needs to hear from his father: I'm proud of you.

He has a long way to walk through. But it caught my attention that in season 5 we are still stuck in this matter. He should be showing more growth as a character. We are swimming in the same daddy issue and I suspect we will be swimming for a long time too.

I think the writers doesn't know what 'move on' means.

Miscellaneous: Megan and Harry mentioned to Tom the number 14 like something he needed to reach. (The remaining time to know about the letters and to get out from prison) This number represents EQUILIBRIUM and also LOVE. Maybe are those the two things Tom needs to achieve. Mostly, self love and acceptance.

Another interesting fact was the episode in which Seven said Tom got out from the cryogenic bed 4 TIMES. I'm thinking that maybe is related to everytime Tom had been in prison. We are counting three times so far. Let's see 😂.

#st voy #kimris #kimris meta #sta voy meta #star trek voyager #tom paris #harry kim #harry kim x tom paris #homoerotic subtext #star trek meta

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years

Text

On Hawks' Injuries

Alright, let's get this out of the way.

"His back... It's... gone!"

I may like to act like an intellectual, but no amount of analysing the color of the curtains changes the fact that I'm a married, mother of two, in her mid-twenties fixated on a fictional character from a series aimed at teenagers about superhero high school. The innuendo from Dark Shadow, the implications of what this means for Hawks on a personal and professional level - that shit stings and I might actually cry when this dumpster fire ends up in the anime in a few years.

We won't know about the extent of his injuries until he's been examined by a doctor, but considering how quickly his wings went up (this all happens in seconds which means those flames are extremely hot)...

...We're looking easily at huge patches of third degree burns with first and second scattered across his body. The area most affected is in the center of his back which does not have a lot of soft tissue to insulate before you're getting to very important nerves and organs, and the scar tissue that will likely form in the muscles and skin after healing may leave his movement heavily restricted.

Depending on how gruesome Horikoshi wants to be, Hawks not only will never get his wings back, but he could be looking at significant permanent disability for the rest of his life. This isn't even taking into consideration the acute complications he may face on the road to recovery including fighting off bacterial infections, fluid loss, and his immediate increased risk of hypothermia. Left improperly treated, someone with this level of burn injury faces an agonizing death (though, a quick one after passing out without treatment), and proper treatment would likely require huge amounts of pain medication to make the long road to recovery even bearable. This doesn't even take into account any additional injury he may have sustained when he hit his head after Dark Shadow dropped them off the balcony.

Remembering for a minute that this is a battle Shonen we're talking about, this is an absolute worst case scenario, and this post goes over how it likely won't end up this bad in the narrative, but that doesn't minimize the sheer brutality of the beating he just took. The fact that he only passed out after hitting his head is pretty miraculous in and of itself, but I'll force myself to suspend my amazement a little bit given the nature of the source material.

Let's assume at the very least his wings aren't coming back, and he'll need at least a week with good medical attention and healing quirks to just be able to get out of bed again. What then?

It should always be obvious when I predict the future that it's all speculation because I'm not actually clairvoyant, but you know disclaimer or whatever.

We have some nasty red flags staring us down in regards to where this fight is going right now. Shigaraki is awake. Dabi's words after Tokoyami escapes with Hawks insinuates there's an alternate plan than the MLA had, Gigantomachia is moving, and the tides are quickly turning for the heroes without even all of that. This fight looks like it's about to go south real fast.

If the heroes lose with significant losses - with any amount of death or injury - and with the added knowledge they at least partially relied on young, inexperienced kids to help bolster their numbers in the hopes to end this quickly, by the time Hawks wakes up he'll not only be staring down his own personal loss in the wake but the weight of the guilt of what he'll perceive as his own failure will crush him. I also sincerely believe that worst detail at the end of it will be him knowing he personally killed a good man for nothing to even come of it in the end.

Remembering also that the Hero Public Safety Commission is the one who tasked him with this mission in secret and the fact, again, that they pulled children into this failed fight - I do not believe they will take responsibility. This doesn't even take into account the fact he'll be useless as a hero and that they don't even know the extent of his knowledge of their inner workings which makes him a dangerous potential leak.

What's more, news of Hawks' betrayal of the MLA will spread through the ranks and file into the public consciousness. On every single side Hawks will be the scapegoat while he is fighting for his life from a hospital bed. He'll be in more danger without the fierce protection of trusted friends than he was while deep in enemy territory. If he doesn't have a tribe he can trust to keep him safe, maybe even going as far as to clandestinely steal him away where he can't be found, attempts on his life are not out of the question.

Hawks will have a choice to make - rise up and make some real god-damned change while we're already up to our necks or roll over and let the world come crashing down around him as he sinks into despair. He can either settle for being a symbol of failure or he can take the chance to rebirth himself.

Could Hawks' wings ever come back?

This injury is insinuated to be permanently damaging. Whatever mechanism grafted Hawks' wings to his back and allowed him to control them is implied to be damaged beyond recovery, if not completely gone.

However, given Eri's mere existence it's absolutely possible to rewind that injury. Before the battle began it was insinuated Eri will end up using her power again, perhaps even out of necessity. It's an absolutely broken quirk, to be sure; but running with the idea that at some point her power will be offered to Hawks to let him have his wings back - perhaps it's even her idea - I posit two scenarios:

Hawks accepts and he's given a second chance to be whatever he wants to be. His freedom completely restored to him physically and figuratively, he begins life anew with a zeal and solemn appreciation for life and the people in it because the opportunity to make a full return like this is a one in a million chance he's lucky to have.

Hawks turns her down, at least uncomfortable with the idea of using a child's quirk for his own benefit given his own history, even if she offers it freely with no additional obligation to herself. He takes a moral stand in the moment to say, "It's not your job to fix my mistakes and shortcomings" and lives as an example of accountability and living with the hard choices you've made in life and learning how to be happy despite the loss.

I would personally be happy with either if Horikoshi intends to take either route. It's more than possible neither will happen, but with the Eri angle, I hope the possibility is at least touched upon. Maybe it's a one-shot thing and he chooses to let her restore someone like Mirio instead. Maybe it'll get completely broken and bring back every hero - Hawks, Mirio, Mirko, etc. - perhaps even triggered by her own determination to help in any way she can. We'll have to see. The story can take any number of directions after this, and it's not so much where we're going that has me antsy as much as the wait it'll take to get there.

#spoiler!hawks #bnha manga spoilers #mha manga spoilers

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kidmachinate · 3 years

Text

Time To Turn Up The Heat

Hades. I've mentioned this game in my last few posts. Why? Progression. Almost like there's this theme or something. There's supposed to be even if rocky along the way.

Let's state this for the whole class to hear. If you're focused on shaping your present for a better future, the past doesn't exist. Take a fine look at this clown we've had in office for someone that consistently dodges issues and looks the the past claiming "unfair treament" when in fact it was he who failed America. Wanna harp on someone's life failures? That's a huge one and it affects everyone. Even this however, won't push us forward and we need to do that for ourseleves.

Heat is Hades form of difficulty levels upon difficulty levels. Some might say it is silly to compare games to real life. Another consistent theme on here. I respectfully disagree with that opinion. In my very household, there is progression within this game from three different people. Something else I'll be getting into real soon. We are each challenging ourselves, within our own skill levels, to slowly but surely, turn up the heat. Add one extra thing to consider on each of our between half hour to an hour runs, which hopefully end in victory, but not always. One extra micro decision that makes us think about what items we want to take on a run or what ways to make the game just a tad more difficult.

Roguelikes tend to juggle many micro decisions that hopefully lead to a macro victory. Sometimes I wonder if I'm holding myself back by knowing some of the same people for years. From time to time however, I do change that and may meet another person online or IRL. The huge plus to knowing the same people, you know what to expect. If you're close friends, you esentially grow up together and remain a positive influence in their life. Not everyone will. That's okay. That's their life to live. In a videogame, the goal is simple. Win. So how do we score wins for ourselves? Whatever brings you peace.

While I technically live alone and have for a while, I've esentially moved in two people close to me, to help bring peace in their otherwise crap home scenarios. Without getting into a lot of detail, I chose the route of forgiveness. I don't think something that has has a negative impact on your life should your tour attention for very long after the fact than to learn from it. Let's call it for what it is because one of the two is a previous partner of mine. Her name is Amber. It took a combination of therapy and other experiences on both ends to even come to the conclusion that maybe this time, things will be different. What happens there? My business. But it is currently what is. Outside of that, we're people trying to live. Live in South Florida no less. Hard times. We shall push through. The other person is my friend Corey. He makes some of the same questionable choices I do romantically that we find ways to joke about later, although I can't relate to how far they usually get. I've never been married. Don't care for it. Outside of this, we find a way to have very different opinions on either life itself or games even but still get along. If only that could apply to sports and religion. I'm intentionally leaving out politics because that is a seperate topic all together at this point.

We're not the most functioning family, the three of us, but we agree on enough to make a living scenario work, because who needs all the extra stress, right? For a long time, I've run from my own choices. My own opinions. All for some silly attempt to make anyone and everyone happy. It can't be done and the quicker we all realize that, it can lead to a more focused journey for us moving forward. I weighed out my options for how I'd like to live. For right now, I'm helping two others and providing a safe space of sorts. If this leads to a scenario past this aging apartment I currently rent, amazing. If not? That's life.

I focused on two people by name in this post because they are literally closest to me within my home. My best friend of sixteen plus years too does it all on their own. I respect that highly. I've done it. I've just decided to try a different route that can be beneficial to everyone. We each have moments of "I don't care what anyone says" in which we close our minds to any opinion but our own. The issue with this is it isn't sensitive to others needs. I'll take the blame front and center for my part on this. I'm used to rejection and being told no a lot. It's a goal of mine once reshaping my employment scenario. To fix unsolved trauma which hold me back at times from being more open.

This post is called what it is for a reason. It's been made clear to me who is willing to take the blame. Who is willing to blame shift. Who wants to change from toxic ways or to simply remain. The better part however is that none of this has anything to do with my personal journey. I base many of these posts off personal experiences with a dash of gaming references, but I don't want to target any one person for harm or help. It is all inclusive. We are after all supposed to be a UNITED states of America, even if we aren't now.

I'm turning up the heat and perhaps I like to play with fire a bit. Perhaps I want to rush life in the face and see what happens. It is how you learn. Sometimes we need a bit of heat to light the fire under our asses we need to do the right thing. Catch me at the right time and I'll do that. However, I've become more comfortable going back to some way of old where observing is better. Because you can't help everyone. This doesn't mean you turn cold.

People swear you have to take sides. If you take any side, take your own. What aligns and what doesn't. Those which align with you will understand that and won't try to change you for it. Some of us need more help too. Turn on god mode. Better resistance to deal with the challenges faced in front of you. Better than not having tried at all.

Heat is off. It's up to you now. Up to all of us to be more understanding while pushing ourselves forward and maybe, just maybe, not take things so personally. I'm not sorry that I don't want the worst for people, even if they have made some mistakes. I too have pushed some away after being wronged. I also was sometimes the offender. We all can be our own redeemer however and we need to encourage others to do just that. If you have to play the avoid game for your sanity or mental health, awesome. You don't have to put them in your Death Note.

#hades #heat #progression #creativewriting #mentalhealthawareness #right and wrong

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jamkookies · 4 years

Text

Okay

Description : A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word count : 3.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Please, sir! I'm begging you! Open up, please!"

It was surprising how the both of you hadn't even moved an inch despite the cries that had begun to turn downright hopeless but as Jungkook's arm shields your body defensively, you decide that you just can't take it anymore.

"Jungkook, we should take a look." you say hesitantly, turning your head in his direction.

"No way. It's a trap." he claims. "I'm sure of it."

Your eyes keep boring holes into the door as if your vision could penetrate it.

It's quiet for a while.

Maybe he left.

Maybe he-

A thunderous boom to the door.

"We have to at least take a look, dammit!" you exclaim and push his arm away, now decisively heading towards it.

"Wait!" Jungkook yells after you but instead of stopping you, he joins your side. Before you can make any further attempts, he mushes his face onto the platform and looks into the tiny peephole. Curiosity can hardly keep you still.

At last, Jungkook retreats and motions for you to take a look as well but you don't know whether to expect a garnison of soldiers or a horde of wild bisons behind the door because the expression on his face is unreadable.

The cold surface of the platform touching your forehead only makes you grow even more uncomfortable. Then, your eyes are able to discern an obscure figure behind the magnifying glass. "You've got to be kidding me, " you whisper as your eyes naturally widen.

This could not be.

Him, out of all people....

Both you and Jungkook exchange a look of silent agreement and he pushes the open button with no words needed. The door swings open to reveal a slightly dishevelled-looking man with multiple cuts and bruises marking his face. Those eyes you'd seen gleaming with vigilance are now tired, drowsy yet still scarred with horrors you could only imagine. You'd never forget those eyes because they had been the ones that had given you a chance to escape, a chance to save yourselves.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook wonders, not bluntly but rather in a puzzled demeanor.

"Let me in, please. I'll explain everything, " the old bodyguard says and throws a look behind his back and down the stairs.

You and Jungkook exchange another look and then the latter opens the door wider, giving him space to enter. The bodyguard's face almost melts in relief upon the gesture. He crosses the doorstep in two huge strides, putting the farthest distance from it.

From the moment the lock clicks back in place, a deafening silence hangs into the air, adding even more to the suspense.

You decide to break the ice first. "What do you mean they're gonna kill your family?"

The bodyguard takes notice of where your eyes are fixed and he unconsciously touches a bruise on his chin. "Actually, I lied about that. I had to convince you to open the door."

Your anger flares like wild fire but before the flames can grow higher he quickly compensates for his mistake. "I'm really sorry. I had to.They...they did some things to me...I'll explain everything but I don't have much time."

"Why?" you demand. "Are they following yo-"

"What are you doing here in the first place?" Jungkook interrupts.

The man appears to be going through an internal conflict as his eyes shut tight, hands clench and unclench and the line of his eyebrows angles into a wide V. His distressed condition explained so much and yet so little. His eyes that up till now had been staring at the ground, lift to level up with yours and then flick to Jungkook's. "I went through hell itself to get here unnoticed. I'll have to go soon. But before I do, there's something you should know."

* * *

As much as Jungkook refused to drop the disgruntled attitude, he still made the man sit on the couch and then proceeded to offer him a much needed glass of water. The man drank and drank and drank like he'd forgotten its taste and freshness and after his thirst was sedated, he started chirping like a bird.

"First of all, I want to apologize about trying to take you by force back in Malta, even though in reality it was not my choice."

"We'd figured that out, " you confirm. "But why did you help us escape?"

You'd been racking your brains out for a long time now, trying to come up with a logical explanation but no answer fit in the frame. You just couldn't understand why he would put himself in danger so you could run away.

It didn't make any sense.

"I couldn't just let them take you like prisoners, " he says. "I had to at least give you a chance because I myself wasn't given one."

Jungkook's brows wrinkle in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A look of something like shame casts upon the man's face and he stares at his clasped hands. "When I first got this job, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Being a bodyguard, I had taken everything into account, including the fact that I would probably have to give up my life at some point but I never thought I'd be involved in criminal affairs."

Criminal affairs? What was he talking about?

"I thought it was normal at first. I thought this was how things normally went but when you decided to go to that trip in Malta I realized that I couldn't get out of this sucking hole no matter how much I tried. And the worst thing about it is that you've had to suffer along all this time without even knowing it."

Jungkook raises a hand to stop him. "Whoa whoa whoa, hold on there a second. Are you talking about Sejin making Y/N leave? And the the thing at the plane? I know he went a little too far but-"

"You think that's a coincidence?" the man shoots back. "He set everything up. From the tickets to the hotel to everything. Every single piece of it was planned out."

Your teeth grind against each other with a mixed state of anger and shock putting them into action. When you throw a glance at Jungkook's traumatised form, tears start to form at the corners of your eyes. The man's statement seemed to had jarred him to the bone and rendered him speechless, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

"I apologize for that, " the man continues. "I didn't want to say it straight away because I knew it would come as a shock to you but Mr.Sejin is not who you think he is. I've had to live with this knowledge for years now."

For a moment, Jungkook's eyes clear up and he blinks a number of times till his attention is completely aimed at the man's face. "Is this a joke or something? Did he send you here to play with us?"

The man's expression remains stoic, forever expressionless but even through his mask you could make out the scars of horrendous truths.

He wasn't lying.

You both knew that but you just couldn't accept it, even though deep down you had always sensed that the origin of your ordeals had been somehow designated.

The said bodyguard points a finger at his face. "You see these bruises, sir? They gave them to me as a punishment for not being able to bring you back. Beat me up till I fainted. When I woke up they made it clear that this time the job had to be done properly. That's why I'm here. To bring you back. But I won't be doing that. I'm here to make sure that you know who you're dealing with. I don't have the authority to talk with his superiors. Trust me, I've even tried to but he's always one step ahead of me." He smiles sadly. "I've gotten countless warnings because of that."

Jungkook puts his head in his hands and agressively ruffles his hair. "How long has this been going?"

The man doesn't hesitate. "6 years. Since the moment Ms.Y/N set foot on that company. He was obsessed with the idea of a boy-group only and didn't want any other intruders. I can witness the number of times he complained to his superiors about not letting her join. He kept pestering them, kept telling them all sorts of things but PD-nim was the one who insisted on taking her. After that he was absolutely furious. You should've seen the way he flung things around in his office. It made me scared for a moment."

He releases a long-kept sigh and shakes his head dreadfully.

"This went on for as much as I can remember. He never changed, always kept making attempts into kicking her out and covered it with a fake smile. But this time he had it all planned out to the smallest detail and couldn't afford to just brush it off as usual. That's probably his biggest mistake so far. He just couldn't stand hiding in a bush anymore so he went 'go hard or go home' I guess."

All this new information was making your head spin. Your mind wasn't helping either, continuously attaching images to the words, helping build up the portrayal of the man who had detested you for so many years, piece by piece. To say that you'd been dismayed was an understatement. You just couldn't believe your ears, couldn't wrap your head around the idea.

"What exactly had he planned?" asks Jungkook with a tint of hesitation in his voice. Understandable enough, taking into consideration the fact that he was fed up with the truths he'd heard. The bodyguard takes a sip from his glass and gulps audibly. He keeps throwing nervous looks at the door, as if waiting for someone to burst in.

"If you can remember....the accident with the saesang girl...."

Not that

Anything but that

"It was not an accident, " he confirms. "Your manager planned it."

No no no no no no-

"He hired that girl knowing she was a saesang and told her what she had to do. He promised her Jungkook would be hers if she managed to get the job done. That night, when you sneaked out into the forest, it's like you offered yourselves to her in a silver platter. And that's how it went. She took care of everything; the car, the tools, even her assistant."

He shakes his head and you see a melancholic smile cast upon his lips as he looks directly at you. "Stupid girl. She hated you so much to the point where she even ignored Sejin's orders for a moment. He'd never intended to kill you. Obviously, he wasn't that stupid. But she didn't care at all. Thought about getting rid if you since she had the chance and went all-psycho. Unfortunately for her, you managed to escape and that's when Mr.Sejin got angry. Really, really angry. His face got all red and puffy and when Namjoon-ssi tried to talk to him, worried about you gone missing, he yelled in his face."

Joon.

You can almost feel the nostalgic taste of the word in your tongue. It was like smelling that familiar aroma of fresh flowers that grew in your back yard and being swept into a wave of old memories. Sick of you, to not think enough about him all this time, when all he'd ever did was worry about you.

You missed them. All of them. So much to the point where it hurt.

Were they okay?

Now that you were certain about your manager's intentions, you couldn't help feeling concerned about the rest of the boys.

Unaware of your thoughts, the man continues with his story. "And things got even worse when she shot you and you jumped into the stream. I guess she panicked. Her voice was literally shaking from the other side of the phone during the call with manager-nim. I don't know what she said exactly but it still didn't make him give up. After all, he had to prepare for the grand finale."

Jungkook's sharp intake of breath switches your attention to him. You examine his face carefully, looking for any signs of panic but nothing makes it to the surface.

At least not yet.

"-called the ambulance to make sure you wouldn't die."

The momentary distraction had made you zone out and you're only able to catch the last part of the phrase.

"Then what?" Jungkook asks softly.

It's like the man's physiognomy is put into action; eyelids blinking furiously, lips opening and closing, hands fumbling with each-other. He seems nervous to keep talking and that only puts Jungkook on edge even more.

"Then what? " the latter insists. Bolder this time.

The man chokes the words out. "Th-then you wrestled with that girl's assistant. And-"

"And I killed him." Jungkook finishes for him. You notice the way his eyes turn glassy and distant, as if they'd travelled back in time, recalling the events.

"No, sir. He's alive."

Both yours and Jungkook's head snap in his direction with lightning speed.

Had you just imagined him saying that?

"What?" you voice.

"He didn't kill him, " the man confirms and this time you can clearly see his lips matching the words. "It was all a trick."

Clash

"No!"

Tiny little glass shards scatter across the floor, but you don't even have time to react as another loud noise joins it.

"No!" Jungkook yells again after taking out the anger on the second vase. " I don't believe you! You're lying!" He's fully risen to his feet, his chest puffed from breathing too hard. You've never seen him like this, so angry and panicked and scared.

"He's alive, sir. I'm not lying. They enacted the death-"

"Shut up!" Jungkook screams.

"-to make Y/N-ssi feel guilty and leave. Please, sir. You have to listen to me. You did not kill anyone."

A storm of emotions drowns you whole and it's impossible to pinpoint a particular feeling in the midst of all the chaos. Pain, sadness, relief, anger. They all come as a flooding mess, an absolute wreck.

But none of that matters now.

Not as you notice Jungkook from the corner of your eye, slowly sink to the floor and curl into a ball. It's just like that night at the hotel. He rocks back and forth with no awareness of his surroundings, completely lost in his despair.

The storyteller gives him a perplexed look. He must be wondering why Jungkook was reacting this way, why he didn't sigh in relief upon the news of his innocence.

That's because the man didn't know what the idea of killing someone had done to him and how hard it was to just rip that thought out of his mind. He'd convinced himself over and over that he was guilty, that he was a murderer. You'd witnessed it yourself during all those restless nights filled with nightmares driven by his own conscience. You'd both tried to speak as little as you could about it by trying to avoid that fact but now that he's given up and let himself fall apart, you're able to see how it had ruined him beyond repair.

You glare at the bodyguard to stop him from going further and rush to Jungkook's side on the floor.

And your heart shatters into a million pieces.

He's sobbing like a little child.

A grown-up man turned into a little kid just like that, with his arms wrapped around his knees, head buried low within.

You carefully approach him and crouch on the floor, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Kook..."

He doesn't even acknowledge your presence and his sobs only seem to increase but that doesn't discourage you from throwing your arms around him in a wide hug.

"It's okay, Kook. You're okay."

Suddenly, his hands wrap around your waist and he hugs you so tightly, you almost fall back. You thread your fingers through his dark silky hair and pat his head.

Another choked sob escapes his throat.

Oh how you wished you were the one suffering, not him. If only you could take all his pain from him, you'd gladly do it. You'd do anything for him.

His fists scrunch the fabric on the back of your shirt as hit tears spill on your collarbones.

"You're okay, you're okay, shhhhhhh." you whisper in his ear.

All is forgotten by now. The only thing you can focus on is to let him know that you were here, that you understood, and that it was okay to feel like this.

It was okay not to be okay.

* * *

You'd lost all sense of time with Jungkook in your arms that you'd failed to even throw a look at the man in the corner, silently waiting for the situation to cool down.

"I'm sorry." you hear Jungkook's worn voice at the side of your neck.

"Don't be." you answer. "It's not your fault."

He finally unties his hands from your waist and takes a deep breath. A dark veil still hangs in his eyes but he tries to cover it up with a weak smile. However, the smile turns a tad bit more genuine when you cup his cheek with one hand and gently caress it.

"I'll get you some water," you say and make to get up but he grips your hand and looks up at you with pleading eyes.

"Don't go."

If you could choose to have an image branded at the back of your mind, this particular one would be it. Those big round eyes and the messy curls that fell over them carelessly, that scar on his cheekbone, the one you'd always loved, and the pouty lips under the frame of which a tiny mole showed.

You feel like crying and laughing at the same time.

Yet you still understand.

He needed the physical support as much as the he needed the emotional one in order to have something to hang onto. A safe harbor to keep him from straying off into the dark corners of his traumas.

"Okay." You sit back down and Jungkook clings onto your arm almost immediately.

"Sir, " the man finally decides to speak. "I'm really sorry about everything."

Jungkook nods in affirmation.

You're just about to add something when the man's inner pocket of his coat starts to vibrate.

He gulps.

Looks at the door.

With shaking hands, he reaches inside his coat and retrieves his phone.

"It's him." he says upon taking a look at the screen.

Your senses tingle with a mind of their own. What you'd been talking about all this time takes the form of a man. The source of all your fears and sufferings.

The floor suddenly grows uncomfortable.

Bzzzzzzzz

It's like the vibrations are digging into your brain, each buzz more unbearable than the other.

The man can't seem to take it anymore. He taps on the phone and pushes it to his ear.

A gruff voice joins the line.

You're not able to catch any of the words but the man's face says it all.

Something happened.

"Don't hurt them, " he croaks.

More yelling on the other side of the phone call.

Then, silence.

At this point you don't know what to expect. You tightly squeeze Jungkook's leg in reassurance.

The man's begging eyes turn to plead with yours, desperate, hopeless. "I'm sorry, " he says and runs off to the door.

But instead of leaving, he pushes the open button.

And waits.

Your heart leaps in your throat when a dozen other bodyguards rush inside.

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