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#and he kept saying there was nothing else going on it’s just me being. sad. like that’s just who i am
giddyfatherchris · 2 days
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📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)
| including. bang chan, lee know
warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)
a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx
changbin, seungmin & i.n
hyunjin, han & felix
Lee Know
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He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.
As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.
"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.
"What's going on?"
You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.
"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging." 
"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you. 
You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?" 
"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious." 
He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious. 
Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged. 
Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face." 
You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."
You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."
He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."
"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"  
He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."
Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a comity to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.
He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."
Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone." 
He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't." 
Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price. 
Bang Chan
The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords. 
"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."
He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.
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What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.
You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend. 
Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes. 
"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"
You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs. 
"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"
Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?" 
Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.
"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.
Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments? 
"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."
"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."
You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."
"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."
You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"
A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.
"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"
"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."
You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.
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r3starttt · 2 days
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GOOD LUCK, BABE!
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cw: tlou universe. Comphet Abby, slightly suggestive. Angst. Sad ending!!!
an: not proud!! forgive me if this sucks, I just needed to write this
Approximately three hours passed by since she left that good night kiss on the man sleeping next to her. Abby had been tossing around in bed endlessly, first being unable to sleep and then fighting with herself to stay asleep, trying to find calm and comfort within the torture her mind was going through. The endless corridor, the blood on the wall, her hands desperately gripping the dead body, her dad’s empty body. It had been a while since she’s got that nightmare, but so far, she had learned to manage it. Maybe because you weren’t there.
She jolted awake, her heart racing and her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was in that moment of vulnerability that the floodgates of her suppressed emotions burst open. In fact, there had been plenty reasons for her emotions to burst. You being the main reason.
Settling herself in bed, trying to catch her breath as her elbows rested on the mattress, holding her whole weight. Her gaze shifted next to her, the man sleeping on her side still unaware of the situation. unusual considering he’d wake her up most times. At least he cared about her, it was real love coming from his side.
She had gotten used to this in a desperate attempt to find an explanation for everything. Forcing herself into believing it was her father the reason behind it all. Yet, despide the effort, she found herself haunted by memories that refused to leave her mind and heart alone at any time.
But oh she’s stubborn, so, for years she made it work. Abby had spent so long trying to fit into the mold her own mind had built for her, trying to convince herself she was fine, she had been burying her feelings, making anybody else responsible for them, anyone but herself.
Her fingers ran over the man’s hand, resting over her lap. Gently, she tossed it away, placing it over his own body.
The cold air hit her body once she moved the blanket down her knees, standing up. her arms moved as a reflex, hugging her own body. She needed the comfort.
With slow steps she got out the bed, then out of the room, her heart kept beating in such way it had became unbearable. All because of you.
Because she had gotten over the idea of her dad being ripped from her, she knew she wasn’t guilty, she had no control over it, there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent it or make it hurt less. But you, she could’ve done something for you, she had, indeed control about the whole situation and she could’ve done so much to prevent it, but she didn’t.
And not only was she the reason of it all but she could never apologize. And the last memory she had about you was painful, because of how she made you feel, because of what she said and what she did to you, because of what you replied to her. Because you were right, and she was not. And that broke her soul.
You knew her so well you knew how she’d end. With a man she doesn’t love, regretting everything she had ever done and feeling alone even when she’s not. Because that’s her. And you made sure to let her know that the last time you two ever spoke.
And so far, she was able to keep the memory blurry and locked somewhere in her. Until tonight.
You felt so warm, embracing her empty body, telling her everything would be just fine, saying sorry repeatedly for her lost. Maybe it broke her that it wasn’t just a nightmare, but a memory.
Because Owen didn’t even bother to ask her if she was right when he first saw her after her father’s dead. Not because he didn’t care but because he had no clue of what had happened. But you? you where there, you saw it too and never left her side after that, not until she pushed you away.
You met her when fireflies were still a thing, and never left her side since the moment you crossed paths. You swore you were soulmates, and she never said otherwise. She never did, not even now.
You were her childhood best friend, and she was yours, and god you two made sure everyone knew.
Her friends were your friends, her family was your family, you shared everything, knew everything about the other. And even after years both can agree there could never be a replacement for that, maybe because you met being so young but, the bond between both is a once in a lifetime kind.
After her dad died you were all left for her, well, the closest to family she had, she was never alone. And that was the problem, she had everything and everyone a human could wish for in such times like those, but it wasn’t enough for her.
It wasn’t enough because her mind always messed things for her, because her dad and what had happened to him kept making harm, not only in her but in others.
She got blinded by the pain on her heart, and even like that you never left her side, never.
You took care of her, waking her up if she had a nightmare, holding her until she fell asleep. Abby always felt so ashamed of it.
That until she felt the need of staying by your side, not only because you were all she had but because she felt something for you that just brought her comfort and love after so much pain. Because you were the only person that could make that pain go away and she eventually accepted the reason of it, or so she said.
Abby was the first to speak about it, the one to make all the first moves, impressively after all these years considering she was always quite conservative when she had to show she cared about you.
She kissed you for the first time ever, and you cupped her face with your hands to make it last longer, she looked so pretty, with her sheepish smile and a very small red tainting her cheeks, her eyes and nose very slightly scrunched. She made you cuddle with her for the first time and you covered both of you with the blanket, you moved your legs to place then between hers and you pressed yourself on her body, almost to remember her forever. You regret it now, because it worked.
You, on the other hand, tried to make the first move when people were around, at first believing she might be shy to tell people about you because she hated those clingy couples. Then, realizing she wasn’t ready to let people know. Now you know you should've left.
You always gave her time, giving her kisses whenever people wasn’t looking, taking advantage of your friendship with her being well known by everyone to hug her and stay close to her.
She would get mad- well, not really but asking you playfully to stop because she wasn’t ready. And you always understood.
Until drunk - which later she used as an excuse - she said she could never date you, not only because you were a woman and she wasn’t “into that” but also because your personalities only fit with each other because you two met so young. Your friends laughed at it, and you wanted to kill her right there.
As if the universe wasn't on your side, abby got closer to getting hat revenge she desired so much, and you knew it wouldn’t help to make of that a bigger situation in such important moment, so you let it go. You couldn't really blame her for anything after all.
She didn't mean to feel like this about you, or anyone else, and nor you or abby could call that a behavior you could blame someone for. You were her one excepcion in life, you thought instead of complaining about it you should've enjoyed it all.
Abby apologized later that week, you didn't know it was because she went to see Owen. You wish you never knew, you wish you never asked. Back then you thought the old abby was coming back. You were more than wrong, because she never left, she just changed, like everyone else did.
It wasn't later after that when you had to broken up with her. It happened before both of your lives changed forever.
You never wanted to, but it's impossible to not regret it all knowing your life- her life could've turned different.
"You're overreacting" her arms were crossed. She straightened herself, mocking you. You couldn't scream because there were people near you, Abby's friends, all sleeping.
She had brought everyone to a random place to get her revenge, and as much as you loved her, the whole scenario was ridiculous. You didn't understand why she needed everyone on her side, until you saw it.
And maybe you were overreacting, but it wasn't the first time Abby rathered to speak with Owen instead of you. And it made your blood boil because why would she even think about him as someone she can speak to when he wasn't on her side as much as you? When he's dating someone else and she's dating you?.
"You haven't spoke to me since we came here. I just wanna know, why him?" Abby chuckled, rolling her eyes. Just that and you felt like bursting into tears. Fucking ridiculous.
"Abby, answer-" she cut you off, running a hand over her hair, down her braid. The way she took a deep breath, how she didn't take you serious, It had become a normal thing for you and only that made you realize how stupid it was. How stupid you were for letting her treat you like that.
"You can't respect that I want to keep us private. You think I'm fucking cheating on you. I don't understand what the fuck you want from me" you impulsively stepped back. Thinking about an answer that didn't make you sound like the mean one, even though you knew she was the one making all the mistakes.
"You don't want us private Abigail, and you fucking know it" you still remember the knot on your throat when you spoke, there has never been such painful feeling. "We've been dating for more than a fucking year and you haven't said you love me, not even once. I'm the one overreacting, the one being clingy, the one being desperate for love. But you know why? Because my girlfriend is terrified of loving me"
She didn't say anything. But god how she remembers it all.
"You know how insane you're making me? I saw you kissing Owen many times while dating, and you want to keep me 'private' even after a whole fucking year?" Her lips shut together, forming a pout. You knew she wanted to cry, which only made you feel worst because you were the one supposed to cry. Not her.
"You can kiss every single man on earth, but know, it will always stay the same. Good luck with all your shit, Abigail"
The scenery your eyes saw some hours later were just the confirmation you needed to leave. She was angry, and in pain. Probably you were guilty of the morbid way that men got killed. Or, maybe not, but you couldn't change the sensation of guilt building in your stomach every time abby hit his skin.
Back at the base it all got awkward between everyone. The relationship between Owen and Mel got awkward, and that was related to you and Abby.
It was a sort of love affair situation that no one ever spoke about but everyone knew it had happened. Everyone felt pity for you and Mel, which made the hate towards her grow stupidly heavily.
You despised her and that man.
So, for you and your needs, you decided to take something from her one last time.
Having her underneath you, pleading for your touch, crying your name, confessing how she regretted it all and how Owen was driving her insane. One last time, you can't make you forget it.
Neither does Abby, regretting letting you go, more than anything she’s ever regretted.
Not only has she wasted her time with Owen but she had made him waste his time with her. She could’ve had you, she could’ve been awake on your side tonight. Knowing she took all those chances away from herself, it drives her insane every day.
But oh you told her so, and you gave her thousands of chances to not fuck it all.
Those words you said to her, they’ve been stuck forever on her brain.
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adoresia · 10 months
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✦˚₊ TRUST ME I GOT NOTHING FOR YOU OTHER THAN LOVE…
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Pairing : E42 Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
Synopsis : Miles finds it hard to open up to you about whats going on in his life, after a little persuading he finally tells you about whats bothering him so much.
Sierra speaks : FIRST OF ALL… thank you guys so much for all the love on my last fic it means so much to me🫶🏾🥹 it took so long for me to build up the courage to start posting… Here is another fic i had in my notes to make you guys happy! I litterally have a bunch of fics and fic ideas stored for myself and now..im sharing them with you!🥳 enjoy!! also this is a little longer than i had planned…
Warnings ❕: Miles almost crying 🥹, rubbish spanish, heavly suggestive (oops), kissing, cussing, teasing???.
Listen too’s :
YALL BETTER LISTEN TO THE SONGS I PAIR WITH THESE FICS ISTG.
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You leaned on the railing on your balcony, eyes fixated on Miles’s tall figure walking back and forth outside your apartment complex.
It was well pass midnight and the street lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness of your Brooklyn neighbourhood.
He was by himself smoking a blunt. He knew you hated when he smoked so he attempted to keep it from you, however this time he couldn’t really hold himself back.
Life was dragging him through the dirt right now, with the passing of his father and the pressure of being prowler on his back, you could almost mistake Miles for being mute. A part of his life had been ripped away.
And you couldn’t blame him.
It was a struggle for him to open up to you, and despite being together for almost a year, he still struggled to talk to you, to fully open up to you. And even though you welcomed him into your life with open arms, he still did not feel complete. Nothing could replace what he had lost.
Before Miles had found himself outside the both of you were cuddling. With Miles laid between both of your legs, his head rested on your chest while you massaged his scalp with your nails.
Since his arrival he had not uttered a word to you apart from :
“hey baby, ima just stay here from a bit if thats okay.”
He hugged you tight, even tighter than ever before. You could tell something was up, but you let him go at his own pace, weather he wanted to tell you about it or not he knew you would always be there for him.
So here you both lay in silence on your bed, your sheets draped over the both of you. It was like that for an hour. Miles fiddling with the hem of your bra staring at your desk chair.
He blinked like 20 times in the last hour, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He looked so over it, and it pained you that there was nothing you could do to help him liven up a little. You kept assuring yourself that it would be temporary. Seeing Miles sad made you sad.
But as the minuted went by Miles stay lost in his sunken thoughts. You couldn’t bare watch him in this state for any longer, even if it meant you had to push him a little.
“What’s wrong hermoso? i’ve never seen you so…down.”
“Nada, Mami. just... thinking.”
“About what papa? sabes que puedes decirme cualquier cosa.”
Miles responded with a hum, not bothering to open his mouth again as it was smushed against your cleavage. The familiar sound of silence re-entered the room, theres nothing else you could say.
“Ima go outside for a bit baby, ill be back.”
He lifted himself off of you so suddenly, sliding on his shoes and giving you a peck on the top of your head without even giving you time to process.
“Where are you going? do you want me to come with-“
“No. I’ll only be a few seconds chiquita.”
“but.”
There were no ‘buts’ he had already shut your door before you could bombard him with questions. Instead your mind filled with them.
Did you push him away? Did you ask too much? say, too much?
Thats how you found yourself staring down at him in the middle of the night, worried. His puffer jacket stay thrown on your desk chair, he had not even thought about bringing it with him, knowing it was quite cold outside. Was he really that desperate to leave? to leave you?
You took a deep breath and decided it was about time you went down for him. You picked up your hoodie, or rather his hoodie; one you stole from him when you went over to his place, sliding into it like a huge blanket.
You put on your slides and grabbed his puffer jacket. Leaving your phone behind.
Pressing on the exit button of your apartment complex you stepped outside. Making sure to put a block on the door so it wouldn’t close, trapping you outside.
You walked towards him almost tip toeing so he couldn’t hear you. You came to a stop behind him watching the smoke blow away with the wind while he brought his arm down beside him, blunt in hand.
“I know your there ma.”
“…”
he laughed looking over his shoulder, you smiled handing him his puffer.
“Its so cold out here even this hoodie isn’t doing me justice, put your jacket on Milo.”
He took his jacket from your hands holding it to his side, seemingly unfazed by your words and the cold.
“Not as an accessory, miles. Put it on. Please.”
“You’re shivering ma, you look like you need it more than i do.”
And instead he places each of the arm holes over your shoulder. You gave up, there was no point in convincing him, and anyways you were still cold even with his giant hoodie on. Goosebumps laddered on your thighs because of your extra short- shorts.
“Hand me the blunt at least. You know i don’t like when you smoke.”
You held your hand out so he could replace the cold air blowing over your palm with the wrapped blunt.
“Yeah im sorry. I’ll try to stop.”
“Sorry doesn’t mean anything if your not gonna change.”
“I know ma. I promise I’ll try.”
“Good.” You stood in-front of him, squinting your eyes.
“Where yo glasses?”
“Inside.”
“Why didn’t you bring them?”
“Because i wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Which actually beings me to why i’m here. I’m worried about you, Miles. You won’t talk to me and if you let these feelings bottle up inside you it won’t…end well.”
“What your gonna break up with me if i dont talk?”
“No… i meant-“
“Then i don’t need to talk. As long as i have you with me theres no need to worry.”
Silence filled the atmosphere between you two again. Miles could sense your disappointment. He let a moment go by watching you huff as you gave up trying to figure out whats wrong with him. You started to make your way back to your apartment before he stopped you with his words.
“Its Ma.”
You spun yourself around to face his back.
“mhmmm.” you signalled for him to continue, walking towards him.
“I aint never seen her this down since dad passed. Her job is taking every single ounce of energy and happiness out of her, she leaves at like 6 in the morning to come home at God knows what time during the night and falls asleep on the couch. She doesn’t have time to even get anything to eat before she has to get up again the next morning to go to work. I can count on my fingers the amount of words she’s said to me this whole week. And last night…”
He came to an abrupt stop, bringing his pointer finger and thumb up to the inner part of his eyes trying to stop himself from crying in front of you.
He let his bottom lip fall letting out a sigh.
“Its okay Milo, you don’t have to finish the rest if you don’t want to. It’s just you and me bonito you can cry, déjalo salir.”
Still with your reassurance he refused to let you see him in this state, but was unable to control the single tear that threatened to drop.
You wiped both his eyes with the pads of your thumb until there was no tears left on his face or his waterline.
“Milo, you don’t have to act all big nd tuff around me. Everyone cries yknow?” you looked up at him while wrapping your arms around him.
“You are so good to me mi amor, ion deserve you.”
“Corny. But i know.” you smiled closing your eyes in his embrace.
he laughed breathily before giving you a kiss to your forehead.
He held your hand turning his head signaling for you both to go back inside.
“It’s low-key getting a bit cold now. I think the only thing keeping me warm was that weed.”
He looked at the now smushed up ball what remained from his blunt. Before eyeing you up and down.
“Cmon lets go, not even these two layers are keeping me warm.”
You pulled on his arm directing him back inside the apartment complex.
Once you got to your door you scrambled everywhere for your keys. Your short pockets, Jacket pockets, hoodie pockets, shit you even checked your afro. Before you thought back to when you grabbed Miles’s jacket and left the room while your keys sat still on your desk.
“Fuck. were locked out.”
“You for real?”
“Nah im just pretending i left the keys inside so we can stay out here in the cold.” you rolled your eyes, thinking maybe that wouldn’t he a bad idea as long as you were with Miles.
He leaned against the wall next to your apartment door pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, the beat of his heart ringing in your ears.
His lips hovered over your head before placing gentle kisses on your scalp.
“How many kisses are you gonna give me Milo.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No..” You smiled to yourself.
“Then stop complaining.”
Lifting his hand from your waist Miles cupped your chin lifting it up so that your eyes would lay on his. His pupil fell to your lips and then back to your eyes. You knew what was up.
“No.”
“Fuck you mean ‘No’.”
Miles mimicked you while you laughed at him, he looked at you unamused.
“Im joking Milo, kiss me.”
“No.”
“FUCK YOU MEAN NO?”
Now it was Miles’s turn to laugh, although you didn’t find it funny a smile still crept up on your face as you narrowed your eyes at him and pondered.
His laugh reminded you of him 2 years ago, when he had a softer personality, happily striding to you or anyone around him with a proud smile on his face, you missed it. And you know he did too.
You stood up still leaning on him but on the tip of your toes. You wrapped your hand around his nape and pulled him in for a well anticipated kiss.
Your lips locked with his, coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. For a moment you envisioned kissing Miles for the first time a year ago, how he didn’t see you coming when you pecked him on the lips. And how he pulled you back kissing you desperately with deep desire.
You lifted up your other arm and wrapped it around his neck while you played with the tip of his braids. Miles wondered his hands down from underneath your shirt to just under your ass. His fingers pushed gently against your skin shooting tingles throughout your body.
At this point your knees were getting weak as your head swayed against his, your mind went into a haze as the heat from the kiss sent you into a bliss. You felt Miles tug on your bottom lip granting himself access to your mouth.
Both your heads sped up the pace bobbing over eachother in sync, Miles feeling insatiable lifted you up to sit on his hips as he turned you both around. You now leaned back on the wall while he rubbed the bottom of your thighs still insatiably kissing you.
Your eyebrows furrowed with pleasure until he pulled away, you both stared into eachothers narrowed eyes breathing heavily.
“Fuck if we were inside right now, the things i’d do to you mami.”
“Break down the door if your that desperate.”
His head fell into your chest as he chuckled. You laid your head on top of his for a while before he let you down.
You both sat outside your apartment door, you on top of miles in a fetal position. Your coat draped over the two of you (barley) as he stroked your forehead with his thumb.
“Te quiero mucho ma, hasta la luna y de regreso.”
He whispered before placing another kiss on your forehead.
“hmm? whatchu say Milo?”
“Nada mami, cierra tus ojos.”
Extrs :
— Yeah your keys were inside, but so were your parents😭 so when your mom opened the door that morning to head of to work the both of you lay there snoring, with your arms wrapped around eachother.
— When you took Miles’s blunt you tried a little yourself 🤫
“Ma.. what are you-”
*heavy coughing*
“so im not allowed but you are-?”
“sh. i was just seeing what the hype was all about *cough* I-I feel like im dying”
Miles just laughs at you.
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
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Your Touch is My Shelter
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.
Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.
Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️
Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
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You heard the news through Bruce. 
Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else. 
You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.
Tony was gone. 
A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone. 
Steve was gone. 
What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it. 
Vision was gone. 
Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound. 
Natasha was gone. 
But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days. 
Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it. 
Natasha was back. 
Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.
"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."
Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"
"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."
"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed. 
"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to. 
You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. 
It made you sick to your stomach. 
But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were. 
She was in good hands. 
So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.
"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"
"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."
But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him. 
"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."
"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."
"And what do you suppose I can do?"
"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."
"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."
It felt wrong. 
You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.
But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.
"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
June 2012
"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.
There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."
"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies. 
"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.
"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.
"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile. 
"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh. 
You began treating Natasha's wound carefully. 
"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."
You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."
"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?" 
"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."
"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."
"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."
"And if I come back blonde?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.
"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
April 2014
"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"
Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."
You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed. 
You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you. 
"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed. 
"Am I interrupting?"
"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."
"Oh, me too."
You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.
You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"
"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
June 2015
"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."
"Is this too complicated for you?"
"No."
"Then am I unwelcomed?"
You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."
You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"
"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."
You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again. 
You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.
"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."
You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical. 
You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."
"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
September 2016
"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door. 
"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils. 
"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."
Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."
You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."
Natasha's brows furrowed.
"Why?"
"I don't agree with what he's doing."
"So you're on Steve's side?"
"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."
Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.
"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.
"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"
"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"
"Yep."
"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"
"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."
You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.
"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"
"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."
"Smart cookie."
"And a really hot blonde."
"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."
"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
June 2018
Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.
"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."
You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to. 
"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"
"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face. 
"Does it hurt?"
"I don't know."
You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around. 
Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears. 
"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.
"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.
You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back. 
It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.
Natasha's hair has changed again.
"You look good blonde."
That was the last time you saw her. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted. 
The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell. 
You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.
Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way. 
Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.
They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.
You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this. 
A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through. 
She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.
You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs. 
It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them. 
Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you. 
"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.
Nothing. 
"Nat?" 
Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.
You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."
Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you. 
"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.
There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.
You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?
It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.
"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."
Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."
You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.
The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"So, we can send you a contract—"
"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head. 
He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl. 
He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.
"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"
"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him. 
"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.
"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."
It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks. 
"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."
You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."
"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.
"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."
"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.
"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."
The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.
"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before. 
"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet. 
Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this. 
Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.
"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility. 
During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest. 
"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod. 
There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.
"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from. 
Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.
"Did you eat?" 
Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield. 
You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular. 
"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you." 
Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. 
It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in. 
"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."
You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.
"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer. 
Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water. 
"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."
It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked. 
You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way. 
"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."
You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."
You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly. 
It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll. 
You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.
When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned. 
"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.
Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.
You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor. 
You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water. 
"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.
You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately. 
"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."
You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.
Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful. 
"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."
Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away. 
Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet. 
Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—
You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private. 
You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands. 
It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out. 
You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed. 
Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair. 
So delicate. 
When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside. 
"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself. 
You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid. 
"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively. 
Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn. 
"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"
Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling. 
You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."
The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears. 
"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."
You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled. 
"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."
You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha. 
"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."
Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer. 
"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."
"You are."
Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel. 
"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say. 
All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.
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You belong with me | L.N.
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Lando Norris x driver!reader
Summary: Nothing is more painful than two people being scared of how much they love each other.
Warnings: angst, fluff, idiots in love <3
Word count: ~2.3K
^^ It‘s funny to look back at the past that had brought you into this situation. Which is being an F1 driver and helplessly in love with your best friend and racing partner.
Lando and you have been inseparable since your early karting days, in turn developing a strong bond over your shared love for the sport which grew more as you got to know each other better. You were both childish still, no matter the fact that you were nearing your mid 20‘s. But that was what you loved about you two as a pair. There was never judgment from the other and what one lacked the other filled perfectly.
Throughout the close friendship there were a few mishaps when the threshold of friendship had been overstepped but there was always a girlfriend or a boyfriend at the time holding you two restrained and loyal.
So naturally when you two finally became single at the same time and got signed into McLaren’s F1 team all you could think about was. This is it. Now is our time.
And as on queue Lando organized you a surprise. Just the two of you, middle of the starry summer’s night with the city lights below your feet. You were smiling so much that night, your cheeks had started to hurt, but how could you not smile when he was next to you, paying his whole attention to you and making you laugh.
You were sure that he was going to ask you out that night.
And then he didn’t’. It could not have been a more painful experience, but you kept up your smile even if your eyes had faded, no longer admiring the boy next to you, that was just too miserable.
Unrequited love was miserable.
Or so you had thought until about a month later when Lando brought in a girl for everyone to meet calling her his girlfriend.
Just then unrequited love became agonizing.
Your Lando was known for his cheerful disposition and infectious laughter. He was easily the happiest boy around! Well until the said girlfriend…
It was only a few weeks later that you noticed your friends’ colours fade.
About two months in the others started noticing and drilling you about it.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You two are best friends, you have to know what’s causing him so much stress lately” Carlos was making too many hand movements due to his own distress.
“I just don’t know, we don’t talk that much these days” you tucked your hair into your cap and stomped away from the Spaniard.
You didn’t want to admit it to Carlos or anyone else, but you and Lando weren’t the great friends you used to be.
You surely kept your distance since he got his girlfriend out of sheer respect to their relationship (and respect to your own mental health). Although it still seemed not enough for his girlfriend as on a few instances you caught her yelling at Lando in the cool offs to stop the friendship you shared.
To say the least that definitely put a wall between you two, but nevertheless it didn’t completely break your bond.
Now, nine months and one nasty breakup later the unrequited love feels excruciating.
A shadow has fallen over Lando’s already tainted personality. He was going through a painful breakup with his now ex-girlfriend. She had been a constant presence in his life for the past year, controlling his every move, every word and god forbid he didn’t get the right amount of points… Safe to say she was sucking life out of him as a ravenous vampire, though Lando was too blind to see that.
The breakup had taken a toll on Lando, leaving him almost senseless now that he was out of her hold, and it showed in his performance on the track. During the qualifying session for the upcoming race, he couldn't find his usual rhythm and ended up with a DNF after driving himself into a wall.
As he stepped out of his car, disappointment weighed heavily on him. Lando felt like he was losing everything now and the sadness from his failures compounded his frustration.
You had been there for Lando throughout the tumultuous relationship, supporting him in all the little ways you could, checking in before and after races and offering a listening ear whenever you could see him about to reach his limits.
But on this particular day, you could no longer listen to him whining about her, you have reached a breaking point. You couldn’t stand by and watch the man you cared for so deeply be consumed by a toxic woman who had done nothing but break him piece by piece for the past year.
"If I was better, she would still be with me." You heard Lando mumble as he laid on the sofa emotionless.
"LANDO STOP! You must be insane to be saying those things. How can you say that you're not enough? She was the one who didn't care about you, who was never here to support you. Lando, it's her who didn't deserve you, not the other way around!" you snapped, voice filled with tears.
"You don't get it. If I was enough, wouldn't there be girls who like me? Because not one of my girlfriends have actually liked me or, god forbid, loved me." Lando was drowning in self-doubt and it was suffocating you to the point where your heart physically ached seeing him so beat up.
"Can't you see why that is? Maybe you don't belong with any of those girls? Lando, maybe you belong with someone who loves you through your highs and lows, someone who can't bear to see you sad, someone who lets you cry into their shoulder in the middle of the night, and, most importantly, someone who can't stand watching you break yourself over some girl," frustration evident in your trembling voice muddled Lando.
"What are you trying to say, Y/n?"
You hesitated, heart racing, as you contemplated revealing your true feelings. "All this time, Lando, and you still can't see it."
Lando was bewildered, not comprehending your cryptic words. "See what?"
You were burning with passion, on the brink of confessing your feelings, but ultimately bit your tongue. You were praying for him, but he could not understand and you believed he never would and to express the delicate feelings right now seemed futile.
"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head to rid of the emotions taking over your rational brain, and left the room to preserve your patched up heart.
As you retreated, a storm of emotions raged within. You couldn't help but wonder if there would ever come a day when Lando would realize the truth you had left unsaid.
Your words left Lando conflicted and he hated it.
You were someone he could always count on to understand. Hell he never needed to read you, you were like a road he had taken day after day, he knew you so well, he could navigate without his senses.
Lando found himself seeking friendly counsel from Carlos, as he was still perplexed by your reaction and couldn't fathom why you had gotten so upset with him.
"I don't understand why she's so mad at me?! Can you believe it, she was even crying. I'm the one that got dumped, and she's pissed at me for picking the wrong girl?!" Lando vented pulling at his hair, frustration lacing his voice.
Carlos regarded him thoughtfully before posing a question that made Lando pause and reflect. "Lando, let me ask you this. If Y/n was dating a guy who constantly made her doubt herself and feel like shit, how would you feel?"
Lando’s response was interlaced with confusion, "Why the hell would she even date someone like that?"
"So to say you'd be pissed as well?" Carlos continued.
Lando struggled to find words to counter Carlos's argument. He had a point, and Lando was beginning to see things from a different perspective. "But I..."
Carlos interrupted him with a knowing smirk forming on his face, "You what?"
Lando thought about it, connecting the dots between his protective feelings for you and the turmoil he had experienced during his recent relationship. Carlos decided to push him closer to an epiphany.
"When you like someone, you don't want to see them hurting, but it's different to feel the pain of the other person. That's closer to-"
"Love," Lando finished, realization dawning. He abruptly grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door with a clear destination in mind.
It was time for Lando to confront the truth he had been avoiding, and perhaps, in the process, he might finally get what he had always wanted. You and love.
Everything was suddenly falling into place for Lando. He began to understand why you had never wanted to hang out whenever he got into a relationship, why you cried when he cried, why you sacrificed your sleep just to listen to him rant about the terrible things his ex had done, and crack jokes to make him smile. It all made sense, and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.
Deep down, he had always known that the girls he dated were just placeholders, a way to distract himself from the perfect girl he felt undeserving of his whole life.
He had a brilliant idea last year when you both secured your McLaren positions. He planned a whole midnight drive and stargazing, which he knew you loved (that also prompted him to learn constellations for weeks before the special day, only to impress you). He wanted to ask you to be his and make it magical, but ultimately chickened out.
When the next day came around he could not face you and instead of spending the last few days before training with you he headed to a bar where he met his now ex. She was pretty and showed so much interest in him he could not not get hooked.
In that moment of absolute weakness Lando decided that having a girlfriend would solve the problem of loving his best friend and potentially ruining the friendship.
He could not have been more wrong. The relationship was an absolute hellhole, filled with insecurities and so many fights that he could no longer see himself as he looked in the mirror. Still no matter how bad his life got, he felt he deserved the purgatory for letting you slip through his fingers when he just had to hold on to you a bit tighter.
He’d never forgive himself for wasting so much time pushing you away. But he wasn’t going to settle for that. Lando was still a fighter. And fighting for you… well that now felt like his birthright.
“It's you!" Lando exclaimed bursting through the door, his voice echoing through the garage, his eyes locked directly on your form, disrupting the calm chatter around the room.
The entire room came to a standstill, eyebrows furrowing, and the atmosphere thick with confusion. Your eyes found his, equally as bewildered as the rest of the staff in the room.
Lando repeated himself, his breathy voice much lighter and softer than before. "It's you."
"Me what?" You asked, face still a mix of confusion as you tried to grasp the meaning of his words.
With each step he took closer to you, your heartbeat quickened, uncertain of the nature of those words, and just how much was hidden beneath them.
"It's always been you," Lando confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've never loved anyone because you've held my heart since you smiled at me on your first day in karting. I have loved you this whole time, but I was too scared and too stupid, honestly, to do anything about it, letting myself push away my feelings by running to someone else. But I'm not scared anymore because you don't deserve to be loved silently and from afar. You are the kind of woman that is meant to be loved loudly, with no second thoughts."
“Lan…” words deceived you.
“I love you Y/n and I’m not afraid to feel it and say it anymore. And I hope that one day you can tell me that you love me too” his hands found yours, the touch of his skin on your hands felt different.
Your cheeks heat up with his confession and you search his eyes who confirm his words to be true. He does love you. And you love him too. You’ve thought your love for him unrequited for so long that hearing him say those words to you seems like a daydream.
You realize by his fading eyes that you’ve been too silent through his confession. You know exactly what the look of doubt looks like on Lando’s face and you speak up quickly promising yourself that you’ll never be the cause of that distressing look on his face.
“Took you long enough to realize Norris” you chuckle pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
He catches up to you quickly wrapping his arms around you waist deepening the kiss.
“You belong with me.” He whispers, the warm words fall on your lips right before he kisses you again, both of you smiling into the kiss.
The room erupted in cheers and applause, congratulating the new couple. Finally, Lando had found what he had been searching for all along, right by his side, and you got what you’d been wishing for since you were little. A two sided love. You both were ready to embrace your love openly, no longer bound by doubt and hesitation.
^^
A.N. back again with that Taylor Swift inspiration :3
P.s. I think my neighbors hate me because I be listening to one song on repeat for like 4h..... *skull emoji*
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palms-upturned · 1 year
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I’m not gonna jump in ppl’s notes over this bc lord knows I do not want to have a debate about it but seeing someone say “I have qualms about people calling Jean ableist for trying to fire Harry and in the same breath saying Harry is unfit for cop work” is really getting to me. I am practically on my knees begging people to actually engage with what disco elysium has to say about disability and addiction and ableism and policing and social murder because it’s not even subtextual, it’s as blatant and hand holding as it could possibly be. The 41st is an awful environment for Harry not bc him being disabled makes him incapable of doing his job, it’s bc the job is fucking hostile to his existence. Like, no one is “fit” to be a cop because they shouldn’t exist, firstly, and even Harry himself will say as much in the Ruby bad ending. But talking about Harry’s case specifically, we know that this job is part of what landed him where he is to begin with.
From the start of day 2:
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.
YOU — Why is this happening?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.
YOU — Wait. What *is*... speed?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?
VOLITION — You got up from this floor because of a holy vow you made sixteen years ago. With *me*. To wake up exactly 07:30 every morning until the day you die.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don't be silly. There was no vow. You were high on speed. That was the only reason you got up. You can't *detect* without it, it's that simple.
YOU — No. I can take this. I am not going to go looking for speed.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Are you sure? Ready to live as this pathetic shell of yourself for days? Basically a week? Let's be honest -- two weeks, maybe three? You won't make it. Half the town will be dead by then. You will be fired.
YOU — That's a lie. I can do this without the speed. Half the town won't be dead... (Opt out.)
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Suit yourself, slow, sad shell-man. See how you do without your spark.
And from this talk with Kim in Klaasje’s room:
KIM KITSURAGI — "Amphetamine -- does it make you a better detective?"
SUGGESTION — Be honest. He's not grilling you, he just wants to know. Ask if he's ever wanted to take it too.
YOU — "Honestly, it makes me the detective I am. Have you thought of taking it too?"
KIM KITSURAGI — "Maybe I should?" He lets out a little pensive hum, rubbing his shoulder...
DRAMA — It's not insincere. He's actually giving it thought.
KIM KITSURAGI — "Doesn't the... pupils and the gurning jaw, the sweating... doesn't it become tiring after a while?"
YOU — "I understand it's unbecoming but if I don't perform this job well I am nothing. It's the price I pay."
Harry knows that the cost of getting sober would be that the precinct would let him go. They’re not going to have the patience to deal with him slowing down from the combo of withdrawal and no speed to “keep him propped up.” Not when the reason that he’s stayed on the force this long and risen in the ranks is most likely because he manages such a massive caseload, as we find out from Kim:
YOU — "Is two cases a week a good case load, lieutenant?"
KIM KITSURAGI — "Huh?" He raises his nose from his notes. "Two *complex* cases to undertake is a lot, yes. You *really* have to push yourself. I would not suggest it. Lest you start making mistakes."
YOU — "Two cases a week appears to have been my load, lieutenant. I'm not sure I completed them though."
KIM KITSURAGI — "Two?" He raises both eyebrows. "That's a lot. I didn't mean to say you're making mistakes, by the way. That was presumptuous of me."
And later:
KIM KITSURAGI — "This next row -- the one that wraps all the way around -- is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You've got, let's see..."
KIM KITSURAGI — "Wow, more than 200!"
YOU — "Is that a lot?"
KIM KITSURAGI — "It's *quite* a lot, even for someone who's been on the force for nearly two decades. Usually clearing more than 10 cases a year puts you in the 90th percentile of *all* RCM officers..."
Despite the trouble Harry makes, he’s considered an asset so long as he closes cases. To the point where he wasn’t punished for drunkenly beating Burke unconscious and then injuring his knee so badly that he can’t walk anymore just because this allowed them to close the “unsolvable case” of Leslie and Burke. 41 and the RCM as an institution don’t care about Harry’s or anyone else’s wellbeing, they care about whether the pros of having him around outweigh the cons.
From the lazareth call with Gottlieb:
YOU — "Isn't there *anything* you can do for me?"
NIX GOTTLIEB — "What, you want me to do blood work for you again, tell you just how bad things really are *across the board*? You want another rundown of everything collapsing inside your body?"
YOU — "Yes. I want the truth!"
NIX GOTTLIEB — "You want the real, honest-to-god truth? Stop drinking, eat magnesium and vitamin D. Our station is not a retirement home. We don't have the funds to deal with *rock stars* past their prime."
RHETORIC — So it's political! You're being *neglected* because of political reasons...
NIX GOTTLIEB — "And no, I *don't* want to hear a *political commentary* on the topic. In fact -- I've got work to do."
If I were to quote every time Gottlieb was notably uncaring or said something blasé about how you probably didn’t have long to live, I’d have to quote pretty much every word of that dialogue. That’s the whole joke with Gottlieb. That’s just how it is dealing with doctors when you’re in Harry’s position.
From talking to Kim about Uuno:
KIM KITSURAGI — "We could take him to Remedie or Saint Batiste, but he doesn't have money for medical services. The Almshouse would turn him down..."
KIM KITSURAGI — "They don't do charity for people who're trying to kill themselves. Besides, he'll be dead in a few..." The lieutenant stops, listening to him.
RHETORIC — ... years? Months? Weeks?
“They don’t do charity work for people who’re trying to kill themselves” really sums up the absurdity of Harry’s situation and institutional responses to it. Harry isn’t seen as the kind of person in crisis who deserves intervention. He’s treated as a lost cause who deserves to suffer the consequences of his self harm, even though the unending crisis and the lack of response to it is what drives him to harm himself and hope that he “gets worse.” If he weren’t a cop, it’s unlikely that Kim would care about him any more than he cares about Uuno and Cuno’s situation. Harry’s job is killing him, but it’s also the only thing that gives him access to anything resembling a community or support network (at least at the start of the game). Again, that’s just the way it goes when you’re disabled.
From the second tribunal:
TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Well -- here is my theory: What if this is an absolutely normal reaction to the world we're living in? What if this is *not* a significant anomaly at all, something to be explained, approached as a defect? Look at the sensory input here..." He gestures toward the scenery.
TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Look at the ruins, the neon, listen to the radio, the multitudes. The people. Live here for forty years... As a police detective, he's like a magnetic reader on the world-tape -- to borrow a known metaphor. Harry's been pushed *flat against it*. Total input."
TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Hard-wired to the free market..." He nods confidently. "He just needed for it to end."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, Trant, thank you. That's... absolutely meaningless. I'm glad we brought you. Will he or will he not be able to work in the Major Crimes Unit? Is he a cretin now? I want to know *that*."
TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "He is *not* a cretin. And he *is* able to do work -- if not in his previous leadership role, then as a line detective."
YOU — "Line detective is good for now."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For *now*?" He looks at you, then at Trant. "I misphrased my question. It should have been: Is he able to put his clothes on, and use the potty, or do we need to get him on a disability pension?"
Or, alternatively:
YOU — "He's wrong. I'm too far gone for work."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Agreed, Harry." He nods. "Just don't expect us to get you a disability pension. Cops who actually gave a shit are waiting in line. You're not gonna hog their seat."
Trant, who, notably, is technically a civilian consultant rather than a cop, (edit: and maybe even more notably, as someone pointed out in the tags, has had experience with addiction, too) suggests to Jean that Harry’s breakdown is a basically inevitable result of his circumstances and the systems that created them, and Jean’s response is that he doesn’t care and all that he wants to know is whether or not Harry can work or if he’s going to be “hogging” resources from other people who are more deserving of help because they “actually gave a shit.” He’s a mouthpiece here for the institutions that he represents and his ableism is blatant and heinous to drive the point home. He denies that Harry’s case is as serious as it is and accuses Harry of faking it, despite the fact that it’s happened (at least) twice before, and very recently:
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I believe you *drank*. People do that -- you especially. What they don't do is forget their *whole life* because of drinking."
JUDIT MINOT — "But, Detective Vicquemare," she interjects. "He *has* blanked out before."
YOU — "I have?"
JUDIT MINOT — "Yes, a couple of times. After some of the more... serious benders." She pauses, remembering. "One was after the Two Drunks case, the other when we looked into that mural."
REACTION SPEED — The two cases... in your ledger. The Unsolvable Case and the Next World Mural. Those were recent.
And despite the fact that even Gottlieb doesn’t seem shocked about it:
YOU — "I've lost my memory. All of it."
NIX GOTTLIEB — "With all the damage you've been dealing yourself with drugs and alcohol, I'm not surprised."
AUTHORITY — There is no surprise in his voice. Only careless superiority.
DRAMA — It's hard to say if he doesn't believe you -- or doesn't care.
(Considering that Gottlieb’s PSY stat is so high (he’s even eating one of the PSY boosting candies during the call), along with his uncaring responses to all your other problems, it’s more likely the latter.)
Jean also won’t believe that you’re sober even if you haven’t touched so much as a cigarette for your entire playthrough, and even when Judit points out that he’s wrong, he’ll double down and say that it doesn’t matter because you’re going to relapse:
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Even the insect -- I don't care. But you're an *alcoholic*. And you've been drinking -- again. I won't let my life unravel because of this."
JUDIT MINOT — "Jean -- I think he hasn't. I can see it on his face..."
ENDURANCE — The bloating *has* gone down since you woke up that morning...
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, so he's stayed clear for what? A week?" He sighs.
TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "It's tough. One of the toughest addictions to overcome. Comparable *only* to heavy synthetic opiates. Even morphine is easier to kick than alcohol -- statistically. The odds are against him. Especially at his age."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — He nods. "He's too old. He's been like this for too long. I've seen him try many times. It's a farce by now."
SUGGESTION — They're leaving. They're all turning away from you.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.
Electrochemistry brings up yet another facet of Harry’s struggles with substances, which is the idea that some of them may be replacements for alcohol. He doesn’t have time or space to try to quit in any way that is remotely healthy. What he has are substances like speed that keep him from collapsing from the strain of it all so that he can keep showing up to work, and other substances that might (he hopes) help him wean himself off the alcohol.
The game explores all of these different factors of Harry’s struggles with addiction and the circumstances that keep him trapped in them exhaustively (and the fact that Robert Kurvitz apparently was recovering from alcoholism during the development probably contributed a lot to that). The structure and culture of the RCM are hugely responsible for Harry’s situation. He’s mocked and berated for being an alcoholic and told repeatedly to get his shit together without actually providing him with the means to do that. Instead, he’s not only enabled but practically forced to keep using just so that he can show up to work at all and not risk losing the only support network he has (even if it’s the shittiest and most unhelpful network imaginable). As Luiga (iirc) said, Harry’s biggest tragedy is that he’s incapable of quitting the force. Many of the reasons for that are genuinely just due to Harry being a class traitor and an asshole, but it’s also true that even if he did want to quit, there is no safety net to catch him.
And then Harry comes to Martinaise, a town that has been “orphaned” by the RCM and neglected by Revachol at large, left mostly to their own devices. It’s not like policing doesn’t still exist in Martinaise, and things are pretty dire for everyone in the community, but at the very least you can see that it is a community. Isobel houses you for free. In Kim’s absence (and after Gottlieb stitches and ditches you), Cuno and Garte take care of you when you’re shot. Acele responds to your breakdown on the ice by saying it’s okay to cry and that you can talk with her about it when you’re ready. Idiot Doom Spiral and co run to your aid when they see you drive your car into the sea and invite you to come drink with them just to stop you from doing it again. Harry discovers that life, while very painful and bleak at times, isn’t necessarily hopeless for the marginalized. You can still find solidarity and support outside of the system.
Meanwhile, if Harry in the end has no one to vouch for him and hasn’t stayed sober, that system will abandon him, a well-known suicide risk with at least one bullet hole in him and severe amnesia, with the promise of nothing but getting served a station call slip. The point is not whether or not Harry “deserves” to be forgiven or even whether he’s a danger to himself and others (to be clear, he is). The point is that this is a system that doesn’t care whether Harry and people like him live or die. That is why, even in a “good” ending where Harry is welcomed back to the 41st, the work won’t be sustainable. It’s going to kill him because that’s what it’s designed to do. The miracle of Martinaise was the realization that he doesn’t have to die. There are people who will help to keep him on this earth. They’re just not members of the fucking RCM.
It’s not a “gotcha” to say that if Jean (and the RCM, and the institutions of Revachol on the whole) is ableist for wanting Harry fired, then saying that cop work is unsustainable for Harry is also ableist. I won’t even say what I personally think of that logic because I’m trying to keep the tone of this post polite. Jean’s dialogue during the tribunal is meant to parrot every bit of ableist rhetoric that the system is built on and that keeps Harry trapped in this hellish feedback loop. He’s a mouthpiece for the general culture of the RCM, just like Gottlieb is a mouthpiece for the shit that addicts and the disabled have to deal with from the medical system. He thinks Harry should be fired because he’s a drunk and therefor a lost cause. The truth is that Harry needs to quit this job because it shouldn’t exist and because it is actively killing him.
In one of Martin Luiga’s articles about the process of creating the game, he brings up the concept of social murder, which is a term coined by Engels:
When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live – forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence – knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains.
None of this is subtext. And all of it is intended to make players actually spare a thought for what it’s like for people in Harry’s situation in real life. For God’s sake, please engage with it. You have to try and understand what it means to be trapped in a life that is made unlivable and to know that your death will be ungrievable. That’s what this whole game is about.
Edit: I’ve seen some ppl say in the tags something like “yeah, I like to imagine a happy ending for Harry, but…” and listen. I am laying a very gentle hand on your shoulders. The point of this post was never to say that there’s no happy ending for Harry. The point is that the first step toward that ending is conceptualizing a life outside of the RCM. In Martinaise, he got a glimpse of what that might look like. Hell, in the bad ending, you can even say to Jean, “fine then. I’ll just live here.” There’s hope for him and for us. I promise.
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joelsgreys · 7 months
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lost on you l a safe gaven drabble
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series masterlist
summary: You’re missing Joel and a certain mare seems to be picking up on your sadness—or at least that’s what you think is happening when there’s a sudden change in her behavior. Why else would Stella be acting so strange around you?
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. angst, horses, and a lil more angst. reader’s pregnancy is lightly being implied, but it has not been explicitly stated yet, only hinted at. no Joel, he is only mentioned in this one. Dina makes an appearance, i threw in some comedic moments to try and balance out the angst. ends with a horsey hug.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: so this is meant to be as a bit of a filler fic before chapter 9 is posted and shit hits the fan. i knew i wanted to do a short drabble that touches on how reader is doing after the confrontation she had with Joel. i also asked people to send in short prompts for the series to do some no pressure writing exercises, and this particular prompt that was sent in was just incredible and i decided to incorporate it. It makes me nervous to post a fic with no Joel in it, but my heart wanted to write it so fuck it, I just wrote it. chapter 9 is almost done and will be posted soon. @eyesneverbeensoblue i hope it’s okay to tag you in this and tell you thank you so much for the idea!
Lately, I’m getting lost on you
I tore your world apart like it was nothing new
every day I’m a slave to the heartache…
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Summer slowly, but surely comes to an end.
The days are long, but the nights without Joel?
They’re even longer, at least, that’s how it feels.
You miss him. Oh God, how you fucking miss Joel Miller.
He’s all you can ever think about.
Every second of every minute of every single day.
You miss Joel so much that it physically hurts. Every part of you just aches for him. Aches. 
Your insides feel like they’re on fire, and you can't put it out.
The heartache is agonizing, almost unbearable—it’s unlike anything you have ever felt before.
In front of others, you hold it together pretty well. But when you’re alone, behind closed doors? 
That’s when you fall apart. Crumble into pieces.
Losing Joel is something you will never heal from. Never.
Traces of himself he’d left behind—would you ever be able to wipe yourself clean of them? Of him? Or would you have to spend the rest of your damn life trying to get over the man who fucking adored the hell out of you and who loved you so unconditionally?
“He misses you, you know,” Ellie says, quietly. She stands beside you and diligently runs a hard, bristled hand brush along Jasper’s side to clear his golden coat of dirt and debris. The palomino is just one of several horses that needed tending to after that morning’s patrol shift. Realizing you’re too busy jotting down notes in Jasper’s handwritten file you keep for him—you kept a file for every single horse in the commune—Ellie clears her throat and then speaks again, louder this time. “He misses you.”
You wince and stop mid scribble.
“Ellie—” you trail off, your throat going dry.
Even though you’d asked her about a hundred and one times not to talk about Joel, Ellie was hellbent on bringing him up to you as often as she could. At first, it seemed innocent enough. She stuck to just letting you know how his recovery was going.
“His shoulder’s healing really well.” 
“Donna came over to help with physical therapy.” 
“He’ll be back on patrol in a couple of weeks.” 
So you’d given her a pass. Besides, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to know how he was healing after his injury.
However, Ellie then began to wander into more sensitive and dangerous territory.
“He asked me about you.” 
“He was drinking again last night.” 
“He looks so fucking miserable.” 
You know why she’s doing it.
It’s not to make you feel guilty for hurting Joel.
Hell, she knows that you’re hurting just as badly. She loves you and she loves Joel—the two people Ellie cares about more than anything are suffering without each other.
You hate that she’s essentially been pulled right into the middle of this mess that you’ve created.
Ellie is collateral damage. This is all hurting her too.
“He misses you a lot,” she adds after a minute.
You exhale sharply. Her words feel like a punch to the gut and they knock the wind out of your lungs.
Finally, you look up from your clipboard, turning to her. “Ellie,” you say her name warningly. “Stop it. We’re not going to do this today. Okay?”
“I’m just saying,” she mumbles, placing a hand on Jasper’s side. “If someone was missing me, I think I would want to fucking know.”
You feel the lump steadily rising in your throat.
“Ellie, please don’t—”
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!”
The sound of Dina’s voice fills the horse stables.
The teenager whips herself into Jasper’s stall, skidding to a stop in front of you, sweaty and breathless, as if she had just run across the settlement.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She apologizes, setting her bag down on the ground. Pulling a scrunchie from the back pocket of her jeans, she throws her long, black hair into a messy bun as she explains herself. “Talia asked me to help her out in the library this morning and I totally lost track of time. And then on the way over here, I bumped into Mrs. Miller as she was walking home from the market and I mean, I could not just let a pregnant lady carry all those heavy bags across town—”
“Dina, breathe, sweetheart.” You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. As long as you show up, that’s all I care about. Especially since Tommy and Maria moved Logan to patrol duty. That’s another stable hand gone, so I need all the help I can possibly get around here.” Slipping your clipboard under your arm, you glance from Dina to Ellie. The emotions from what had happened just seconds before your niece had run in are bubbling, threatening to boil over. “Listen, I have to go do a routine examination on Stella. Finish up with grooming Jasper. I have a couple of horses that are due for baths—Luna and Bandit. Then it’s feeding time. Got it?”
Dina smiles brightly. “We’ll take care of it, won’t we, El?”
Sensing your urgency to leave, Ellie gives a subtle, small nod of her head. “Yeah. We will.”
“Good. I’ll come check on you girls when I’m done with Stella.” Spinning around on the muck caked heel of your boot, you hastily leave Jasper’s stall and nearly fly all the way down the stables and into Stella’s.
You rush inside, closing the top and bottom half of the Dutch door before sagging back against the wood. You toss your clipboard aside on the floor of the stall and lift both your hands, covering your face as you choke back sobs of pure agony.
He misses you. 
As you will yourself to keep yourself from falling apart, you feel a warm muzzle dig lightly into your lower stomach. Dropping your hands from your face, you glance up only to see Stella peering at you with clear and unmistakable curiosity in her big brown eyes.
“Hi there, my gorgeous girl,” you murmur softly to the pregnant mare. A tear slips out from the corner of your eye and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.
Stella lowers her head and sniffs at your stomach, right where she had dug into you. Her ears prick forward and she nuzzles the same spot again.
You shoot her a strange look. You’ve never seen her exhibit this type of behavior before.
“Stella, what are you doing?” you ask, almost as if you expect her to speak and give you an answer. “Why are you being so weird?”
Stella sniffs you again, then nips at the hem of your tank top.
“Hey! Cut that out.” You can’t help but let out a watery giggle as you carefully pull the fabric out of her mouth. Realizing the strange behavior must have something to do with the mare sensing the intensity of your negative emotions, you gently place both of your hands on either side of her muzzle. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you slowly exhale it through your mouth before touching your forehead to hers. “I’ll be okay, girl. I’ll be okay. There’s no other choice—I have to be okay.”
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An hour later, you’d finished the examination.
Stella had continued to act oddly around you, her behavior becoming more and more peculiar as time went on. You were bonded to her of course—you were bonded to just about every single horse in the commune—and so it didn’t really surprise you that the mare was so in tune with your emotions and could feel that something was off. She was extremely attentive to you as you worked, her eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.
Stella also continued to sniff you, nuzzling you in the stomach any chance she had. For as bizarre as it was, it brought you an off sense of comfort and it made you feel less alone.
“Hey auntie.” Dina opens the stall door, poking her head inside. “Can we come in?”
“Of course.”
She pushes the door open further and walks into the stall with Ellie on her heels. Both of them are almost completely soaked from head to toe. 
Your eyes widen. “Um, girls, I’m pretty sure I told you to bathe the horses—not yourselves.”
Ellie lets out a small scoff. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Bandit wasn’t having it,” Dina chuckles. “But he’s all clean, and so is Luna. We just came in to tell you we’re going to go dry off and change our clothes. We’ll be back for feeding time.” She glances at the mare. “How’s our sweet mama-to-be doing?”
“Good. She’s as healthy as a horse.”
The teenagers roll their eyes, but laugh.
“You’re so lame, auntie.”
“Just a little equine veterinarian humor. My dad used that one on me all the time.” You grin at the memory. “Stella’s doing really well. In about seven or eight months, we’ll have our new baby.”
“Well then, I think someone deserves a little treat since she’s doing so good.” Dina reaches into the bag she has slung over her shoulder and pulls out a crisp, red apple. She walks over, holding the fruit out in the palm of her hand for the horse. “Here you go, girl.”
Stella gives the apple a sniff, then takes it from her. 
Usually, she wolfs it down in just a few chomps—but what she does next surprises all three of you. Apple still between her teeth, the mare turns and pushes her muzzle into your stomach.
“Oh shit,” Ellie cackles. “No fucking way!”
“Oh my god,” Dina grins. “Is she—she’s giving it to you?”
Shocked, you lift a hand and delicately take the apple from between her teeth. “Stella, you silly girl! What are you doing?” You hold it out for her. “This apple is for you, sweetheart. Here, take it.”
She tosses her head in the air.
Dina snorts into her hand. “She just told you no!”
“She wants you to have it.” Ellie shoots you a teasing look. “Come on, princess. Take a bite.”
You look at her, then down at the apple, which is covered completely in Stella’s slobber.
“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll pass,” you mutter. 
“Auntie, don’t be rude,” Dina jokes. “It’s bad manners to refuse her offer.”
Rolling your eyes at your niece, you turn back to Stella and tell her, “I’ll eat it later. When it’s washed.”
“We’re starting to smell like wet horse,” Ellie makes a gagging noise as she takes a whiff of her shirt.
Dina lifts the collar of her blouse to her nose. “Oh, gross. We are starting to smell like wet horse.” She reaches out with her opposite hand, grabbing one of Ellie’s. She laces their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go change.”
You can’t help but notice the way Dina looks at Ellie—with the sweetest, most adoring little smile.
You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head slightly.
Ellie’s eyes meet yours and she blushes deeply.
If you ever had a chance to give Ellie Williams shit, this was it—but instead, you just give her a subtle wink from where you stand. Her face instantly goes from red to maroon.
“Be sure to be back in an hour for feeding time!” you call as Dina pulls her out of the stall. “I’m not feeding all these horses alone!”
“We will!”
Once the girls are gone, you turn to Stella and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up today, pretty girl.”
She rests her head on your shoulder.
You feel more tears coming and hug her harder.
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lyrics: Lost on You - Lewis Capaldi
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months
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Pretty like the wind
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a/n Part six! Right, who thought we would see each other here? In all honesty... I'm just so freaking excited because you all seem to enjoy this series. ✨🤍 Thank you for reading!🤍🫧
warning: lots of past trauma, Illyrian camp kind of trauma, anxiety, kids because some of you said it was a warning, same old things.
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You were struggling to grasp the world around you. Trying to figure out where someone as small and meaningless could slot it. Crack through the broken pieces and allow the roots to form. You hated yourself for it. Hated the feeling that surrounded you. And for the very first time, you found yourself agreeing with every rule that Padme had set in this place. Hating yourself because you opened yourself to the inevitable. Made yourself believe and see things that weren't there. Hated it even more because, in the mix of all of this, you managed to lose the hold of your heart that had been safely locked away.
"Y/N", you blinked a couple of times. Being met with an eager hand flailing right in your face, "Mhm", you muttered. "You weren't listening to me...", Axel fell back on the mattress dramatically. You had slipped back into your room after that balcony fiasco. You couldn't. Simply couldn't look at Azriel now. And what were you thinking? Saying things like that. Kiss me...
You cleared your throat, "I was. I was. The purple looks nice", you nodded. Axel tilted his head to the side, "We figured that an hour ago", the boy frowned. "Ah", you exclaimed. What was he talking about? You had been so lost in your head that you had lost the line of his babbling somewhere along the sugar tree canes. Zofie crawled onto your lap. She was an empathetic child, managing to sense even the smallest dents in others' moods. Her questioning was silent; just her eyes managed to pierce right through you. But you kept your head high, a smile plastered on your lips. A fake one, yet it was better than a wobbling lip. You were about to ask Axel about the Candyland dream when the boy sighed, "You're no fun. Azriel actually listens".
You bite your cheek at that. Your whole body seemed to shut down at the mention of him. But it was infectious. The moment your body realized the familiar sound of his name, it seemed to burst with all the different sensations on its own. "That's rude, Axel; apologize", Zofie bit back, arms crossed over her chest. Her fiery gaze was enough to make Axel's shoulders droop. "I didn't mean it like that," the boy said, moving an inch closer to you. "I know, sweet boy, I'm not mad", you brushed your hands through his messy hair. Letting him snuggle into your side.
And nothing had ever felt more right than having them both wrapped up in your hands. They might not be yours, but you loved them as if they were a part of you. No big gestures were needed. You had found one another and clung to each other ever since. And Mother knows you had taken orphans from camps before. But these two were special. Special beyond anything else. The thought of someone taking them away The thought of having to let go of them so they would have a chance to be a part of a normal family...
"No", Zofie muttered, her tiny fingers paddling at your cheeks. Axel's big brown eyes looked right at you. "I'm okay, I'm sorry", you tried to smile at them. You were always great at hiding your pain and fears from them. But with so many things going on, so many things slipping through your fingers. You had lost the grasp of your shields completely. "You're lying", Axel stated quietly, and all you could do was cup his face. Zofie sent him a worried look. And even if she could power through others' pain, your sadness left her feeling hopeless. So Axel did the only thing that felt right to him in that moment.
"I don't see the necessity to rush", Azriel was talking to a swirling image of Rhys that flouted in his room. But not before he had called his brother a dramatic ass for showing up most extravagantly. "I'd send Cassian, but you and I both know how that ended the last time", Rhys huffed, and quite frankly, Azriel didn't want to recall the time Cassian had way too much fun in Summer. Yes, he was undeniably an amazing warrior, but dang, there was a child in that grown body that seemed to take over his judgment at times. "So, what? You're unlocking my cell door so easily?", Azriel shook his head. Rhys sighed. "You can hate me all you want. But you and I both know you needed to get away from Velaris", Rhys said calmly. Azriel wasn't an idiot; he knew his previous appearances were to monitor him. And even now, there was that inkling of hope in his brother's eyes. Looking for a change, trying to see if Elain was still something Azriel wanted to pursue.
"Look, I need to make sure...", Azriel stated right as his bedroom door burst open and in fell Axel. Yet the boy quickly picked himself up. Just his attention instantly got snagged by Rhys. "Wow, a flouting head... cool", he mussed. Azriel frowned slightly. "Axel, bud, what's going on?", he asked in a softer tone. "Oh, amm...", the boy's gaze darted between the two males. "It's okay. Look at me", the spymaster turned his full attention to the youngling.
And yet, no matter what Azriel was expecting, didn't prepare him for the world that left Axel's lips: "Am... Y/N is not feeling well". And it's as if Azriel's body reacted on its own. The male practically leaped out of his chair, moving to reach for the boy, "What do you mean? Did something happen?". And deep down, from the bitter taste alone, he knew that it was his doing. The conversation on the balcony was so unfair and stupid. He shouldn't have mentioned Rhys like that. Because that wasn't the case at the time. The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Just... come", Axel pleaded, moving to grab Azriel's palm and giving it a little nervous squeeze. And of course, he moved to walk right after the boy. "Yeah, I'll hang here", Rhys muttered, an amused smile on his face, but Azriel only called over his shoulder, "Shut it, Rhys".
Was Azriel worried? Yes. Ever since he saw you practically ran away from him. He was convinced that he had heard your heart-shattering, Azriel saw it in your eyes. That final undoing. That final decline. That was the final straw. Was he once again being selfish? Yes. Because he was mortified. He didn't want to go back; that alone scared him. But then he thought... What if he didn't manage to hold back? What if he wasn't yet all over it? What if he slipped up, and you all got hurt in the process?
Axel gripped his arms firmly and said, "And you will talk, and you will make it better like you always do", only now did Azriel realize that the boy was talking. Myst has been talking the whole way up the stairs. His breathing was uneven. "Hey, hey, slow down", Azriel tugged lightly, but Axel didn't give in. "This is urgent", "I hear you, but you need to slow down", Azriel stated calmly, and Axel finally stilled. His wings were always slouchy, but now they were practically dragging on the floor. The flicker of protectiveness flickered in Spymaster's chest.
"What if they are finally sending us away?", Axel's words were barely a whisper, but they knocked practically all the air out of Azriel's lungs. "What?", was all the male managed to mutter. Axel's eyes were big as if he was not supposed to say anything, as if this was meant to stay a secret. "Y/N has been getting in trouble for keeping us", he sighed after a while, his eyes darting to the floor. Azriel quickly hooked his finger under the boy's chin, "Hold up, Axel, look at me. Like soldier to soldier".
He was sure that he was not supposed to have this conversation with a kid, but... This was a serious thing. They can't be taken away from you. "She's not considered fit to be our caretaker", Axel said, eyes filling up with tears. "She's a summoner or something. She does this thing", the boy waved his tiny hands around, and Azriel just watched him, "And it's easier for them", Axel ended with a sigh. Them. Them? The sanctuary? That rusty lady? Azriel gritted his teeth, reassuringly squeezing Axel's shoulder.
When he stepped into the room you three shared, he was convinced that jumping off this mountain and falling to his death was less painful. Zofie was seated right by your side, her tiny fingers brushing against your cheek every time a new tear fell. You just seemed so small. So broken. Mother above... Azriel had wondered about the kids, but what about you? What was your story? Who said that you weren't a victim too?
"Azriel", that was a sound that Azriel knew he was never going to get tired of. He met Zofie's eyes from across the room. Eyes that were now almost pleading. "Hey, baby Z", Azriel muttered with a wink. Your body instantly shot up, an angry scowl on your face, "What are you doing here?". Azriel had never heard your voice so cranky and low. It ripped at parts of him that it shouldn't.
"Axel, take Zofie to my room; why don't you?", Azriel ruffled the boy's hair, and he instantly stretched his arm out for the girl, who was quick to leap off the bed. "No", you muttered, pushing yourself to get out of bed. "Y/n", Azriel pleaded, his eyes fixed more on the kids as they both hurried to get out. "Who do you think you are?", you were right in front of him now, hands reaching for the door handle, but Azriel blocked it off by standing in the way.
"Come on, let's talk", he said softly, but you only let out a huff. "No", you said, moving to shove him away, but in reality, you should have known better, taking into account that he was at least three times your size. You pulled back angrily. "You might be some big scary thing down there", you pointed at the window where the lights of Velaris could be seen. "But here... I don't care", you nearly whined in frustration. You moved to flick your hands out, the light instantly drenching them, but Azriel was quick to catch your wrists.
"I don't want to fight", he said in a calm, worried tone. You tried to yank your hands from his. Just like you tried to get away from him on the balcony, just this time he didn't buck. "I don't care what you want", you spat through gritted teeth. "You're leaving", and as angry as you tried to appear, the last part made your voice crack, and you instantly bit the inside of your cheek. Azriel let out a sigh before saying, "I never said that".
Your body seized. That same painful feeling of hope rushed through you, but you drowned it out almost immediately. Why wouldn't he? Why would he stay? You watched Azriel until your eyes were burning so much that you couldn't keep your composure any longer. "It's not fair", you muttered, but all you got in return was, "Why didn't you tell me?". You blinked a couple of times in conversation. "What?", you breathed. "That they want to take them away", Azriel's words pierced right through you. Igniting that same anger that was just starting to fade away.
"They won't", you snapped. They might try, but you would go down swinging if you had to. "You're sure?", Azriel bites back for the first time, and it's enough to make you pull away from him once again. "Fuck you", you hissed, "Who do you think you are?". You wished he would yell back instead of just standing there. Looking. Standing and looking. "You came in here after thinking with your dick and just stirred it all up", and you know your words hit the spot just from the way pain flashed in Azriel's eyes, but his face stays stone cold. Unreadable. Unapproachable. "You don't mean it, you're mad", he said in an utterly blank matter, and it only inched you forward. "Oh, I mean it, I so...", but you didn't have words; you don't have words for what you were looking to say. There was nothing. Because none of them were true.
"You...", you point your finger at Azriel. "Yeah, go for it. Pull out another name for me. I don't care what insult you throw at me. You're defending yourself because you're scared", and that's it. Those words were your final undoing. Your lip wobbled. Nails digging so deep into your palms just so you can keep yourself from sobbing. "I can't lose them...", you breathed out and Azriel instantly crossed the distance between you both, pulling you in and tucking your head beneath his chin. "We'll figure this out", "This doesn't involve...", you try to fight back, but Azriel ignores your words. "I've got you, love", he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And just like most times when Azriel was near you, a warm flow seeped deeper into your bones, settling into your body. Your hands reached to hold onto his shoulders for support as you let yourself cry.
"You cheated", Axel gasped, making you turn your head back to your bed. Azriel was sprawled on it, with both of the little monsters on either side of him. They had both come back with a handful of sweets in their hands that they snuck in from the kitchen. For comfort, they said it in unison, and as much as you wanted to tell them off, all you had done was smile. Yet the empty feeling in your chest still throbbed.
"How does one cheat while reading a bedtime story?", Azriel let the book rest against his chest. "You read too fast!", "You didn't do voices", both Zofie and Axel said in unison. A deep chuckle slipped past Azriel's lips, "Two very different accusations here". His eyes darted to your frame. You had opted to sit near the fireplace instead of lying with them. "Judge?", he called out playfully to you, the two kids giggling alongside him. But your eyes didn't leave the dancing flame. "Y/N", Azriel called out softly. You turned to them with a hum, but your eyes alone said that now was not the time for games. You couldn't take it. A sharp lash of pain gripped Azriel's chest, making him grit his teeth. But your shoulders sagged in slight relief. As if Azriel had managed to take at least an inch of pain off your shoulders.
"How about we settle down?", the spymaster turned to the kids, quickly pulling the blanket all the way up above their heads, making them both fall into fits of giggles. Giggles that pulled even at the corners of your lips "Will you stay?", Axel asked breathlessly. Azriel stilled for a moment, "I don't think I...", the spymaster muttered quickly. "You're very warm", Zofie beamed, and for that alone, Azriel was willing to drop all of his plans. "Then I can't keep you freezing", his shadows quickly fluttered through Zofie's hair, making the girl squeal at the tickling sensation.
Azriel watched you for what felt like ages. The noise in the room had died down. With both kids asleep, the place felt quiet. Only the crackling of fire remained, accompanied by the light snoring. Azriel had managed to slip from in between the two younglings. As if by second nature they had found one another in between the sheets. Axel's wing draped over Zofie almost immediately. And Azriel had to crack a smile. Illyrian instinct.
"What's on your mind, sweet?", Azriel had walked over to you, both hands on your tense shoulders, as he finally broke the silence. "Sadder or a happier version?", you chuckled coldly. "Sadder", the spymaster muttered, because deep down he knew there wasn't a single happy scenario in your head at this moment. "How horrific it will be for them when you go back", you muttered. Azriel shook his head as a sheen of frustration ran down his face, "Why are you so fixated on it?", "You didn't just ask that", you huffed, turning to him swiftly. Azriel let out another sigh, "Why does every conversation between us end up in an argument now?" There was no anger in his tone. Pure sadness at its best. It hurt him, and even you couldn't ignore it. You looked away quickly, but one of Azriel's shadows brushed against your cheek, turning your head back to the shadowsinger.
He kneeled in front of you, lowering himself to your height. "I'm not throwing this away. I said I'd teach Axel how to fly, and I will", Azriel said firmly, "I want to earn Zofie's love; I can't..", but you quickly cut in, "Don't", you muttered, "Don't make promises like that". Azriel watched you. Watched you because, no matter how much he tried, he knew he would understand the roots of the pain you carried. And then, against his better judgment or just simply because his heart was telling him to, Azriel muttered, "Come to Velaris with me". You let out a surprised gasp, scanning his eyes. "You don't mean it", you whispered, shaking your head, but Azriel only inched closer, "Then I'll prove it to you".
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Taglist: @naturakaashi
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forever-rogue · 1 year
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Ooh what about Joel giving reader a kiss on the cheek now and then and calling her sweetheart and darling because he knows it makes her blush
Basically Joel torturing reader by shamelessly flirting with her until she finally caves and kissed him and he’s like “took ya long enough”
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AN | Please!! This is so soft and fluffy 🥰 
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Hey trouble,” you felt his hands on your hips as he gently moved you out of the way before you saw him. You hadn’t even heard him coming up, but he was good like that - stealthy and lethal when he needed to be. 
“Joel,” your entire face turned so warm you were almost sure you could have fried an egg on it. He looked over at you as though he knew exactly what was going through mind whenever he came around. Honestly he probably did and that made it all the worse, “what’re you doing here?”
“Nothin’ much,” he took a seat at the bar next to him. You felt stupid for even asking - you were at the bar, what else would he be doing here? You wish the ground would open and swallow you whole, “thinkin’ about having a beer. What about you?”
“Same,” you’d been nursing the same beer you’d first ordered when you walked into the bar. You shrugged meekly, “long week.”
“I’d say every week is a long week,” he offered up and you couldn’t help the snort of amusement that escaped your lips. His own beer was passed over and he took it, clinking it against your own, “cheers.”
“Cheers,” you whispered softly, taking a small sip. You didn’t even really like the beer, but it was a social thing to do. Although with Joel currently sitting next to you and leaning into you, it was hard to focus on anything but him. The two of  you sat in silence for some time, nothing needing to be said by either of you. 
You’d always liked Joel, always found yourself gravitating to the older man, but just how much you liked him was still dizzying and overwhelming at times. But you’d never say anything - you were pretty sure you’d rather die. You didn’t really have much to offer, which is always what kept you from saying anything. Instead, you like just being his friend, which was just fine with you.
“I have to leave tomorrow,” he said suddenly, angling his body closer to yours. Your heart dropped at the idea of not being able to see him, but you tried not to let it show on your face. He chuckled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “don’t get all sad on me yet - I haven’t even finished what I was saying.”
“I wasn’t…sad,” you lied although there was no reason to, “sorry - go on.”
“I have to leave tomorrow for a few days to get some supplies,” he explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”
And then your face broke into a huge smile that you weren’t able to hide, beaming and lovely. Joel returned your smile as you tried to not let your imagination run away too wild, “you want me to come? You’re sure?”
“I am,” he nodded, “what do you think? It’s nothing much, just a lot of driving and maybe a night or two of camping.”
“I’d love to,” you agreed with hesitation; you’d probably have done anything and everything he asked of you. He perked up at your response and raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was making sure he’d heard you correctly, “when are we leaving?”
“In the morning, bright and early,” you groaned lightly and that just made him laugh a little harder, “is that going to be a problem, sweetheart?”
“I hate bright and early,” you groaned dramatically, “but I guess I’ll do it for you, Miller. Remember, I’m doing you the favor here.”
“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “and I’ll never be able to repay you. Forever in your debt.”
“Okay now you’re just being dramatic,” you rolled your eyes but there was nothing but affection behind your gesture, “well, I look forward to an adventure. Bright and early.”
“Bright and early.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You might have been panicking. Okay, you were definitely panicking. But why? You wished your mind explained that bit. You’d known Joel for several years, and had managed to be around him without any issue but the idea of spending so much time alone together and potentially small spaces just made things that much worse. You just hoped that you wouldn’t somehow manage to spill your little deep rooted secret. 
“Good morning!” Joel pulled up to your place bright and early just as promised, waving as you met him at the door. You wondered for a moment what he put in his coffee, but decided not to question it too much. He came up and took your bag as you followed him and mumbled your own version of a good morning. You climbed into the truck and made yourself comfortable and he cranked up the heat for your benefit, “ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he grinned at you but paused for a moment before shifting the vehicle into drive. He reached under the seat and pulled out a blank, draping it over your lap. Your heart swelled at the gesture and you almost couldn’t contain yourself, “thank you, Joel. That’s really sweet of you.”
“I can be nice sometimes,” he winked and oh. That made the butterflies flutter in your tummy, “off we go.”
You spied the second cup of coffee sitting in the cupholder and you knew immediately that it would be made just the way you liked it. He was thoughtful like that - in so many ways. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The two of you spent most of the morning and early afternoon, passing the time with conversation about anything and everything that crossed your minds. It was all so easy with him, everything always felt so right and natural. You liked that he made you laugh and you liked making him laugh too. When he’d first arrived he almost never smiled, but he was doing it a lot more these days. And it was a lovely sight to behold. 
You rested for a few hours, to stretch your legs and get some fresh air. You could feel him studying you intently, but decided not to question him. Maybe you just had something on your face, or your hair was funky…or something. 
"There's a small town nearby," hed suggested, "we'll stop there for the night. Unless you'd rather rough it and make camp?"
"Can't trust just anyone these days," you shrugged, "but I'm willing to chance it instead of camping out in the wilderness."
"Good point," he agreed without much emotion. If you'd taken him up on his offer, you might have gotten to share a tent with him. Ugh. Maybe you'd made the wrong decision, "I'm sure we can find a room somewhere there."
A room. Singular. Alright, perhaps things would be okay after all.
"We'll figure it out," you agreed as you looked at the lights in the distance. He reached over and brushed his knuckles over your cheek. Your skin felt like it was on fire from even the simplest of his touches and it made you smile despite your best efforts.
The rest of the ride passed by in silence, a comfortable one at that, and before you knew it you were parking inside the small town and looking around in amazement. You knew more towns like Jackson existed but it was still amazing when you got to see them. It was like a little bit of normalcy back into your lives.
"Come on," Joel tugged on your arm as he started to lead towards the small diner, "let's get inside."
You followed his lead, trailing slightly behind him as he slid into one of the booths. You looked around and couldn't keep the smile off your face, "this place is cute."
"Hmm," he hummed in agreement, "you think about what you want to eat and I'm going to ask about where we can stay for the night."
"Okay," you watched as he slid out of the booth, enjoying the view but not before he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. 
You looked at the menu and you weren't sure how much time had passed before he sat back in the booth. Only when you looked up, it wasn't Joel sitting there.
Instead, it was a young man who was smiling brightly but managed to send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.
"Haven't seen you around before," he smirked and immediately there was a shift in the air and you did not like it at all, "I think I would have remembered such a pretty little thing."
"I…I'm not from here," you shrugged him off, "just passing through-"
"Well, I'm sure you'd like some company right?" He completely cut you off, "wouldn't want you to get lost or anything."
"I have someone," you searched the place, desperately willing Joel to just pop up, "if you don't mind."
“I’m sure no one will mind if you come with me for a little bit,” everything about this man had your blood boiling, “I can show you a good time, and you can show me a good time in return. Whaddaya say, sweet thing?”
Neither of you got the chance to say anything else before you heard the sound of a gun cocking and the cool metal was pressed to his temple. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at a livid, furious Joel, “don’t say another word. Get out of this booth, apologize, and walk away.”
“Listen old man-”
“Now!” he shouted, causing you to jump slightly, “I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out, kid.”
“Fine,” he gingerly moved but Joel kept the gun pointed at him. You could see that the guy was genuinely nervous; you couldn’t blame him, Joel was scary when this side of him came out, “I’m sorry.”
You said nothing but gave him a subtle nod as he almost ran out. Joel kept his eye on him, before sitting down across from you again, “are you okay? Did he do anything or touch you?”
“No,” you swallowed thickly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. Joel reached over and brushed them away, “he didn’t do anything. You got here just in time.”
“Good,” he let out a sigh of relief, “oh, my little trouble.”
“Thank you,” no one ever made you feel as safe as Joel did, “I don’t think that guy will try anything again. I think you made an impression on him.”
“Well, can’t go around and not make an impression,” he huffed bitterly, “you’re sure you’re okay?”
“Positive,” you promised, “thanks to you.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel had found a small little room in one of the hotels and your mouth almost dropped open when you realized it was only one bed. You set your bag down and looked before laughing nervously. It was an easy tell of yours that Joel had picked up a long time ago. 
“Umm, there’s…” you trailed off and pointed at the bed, “only one.”
“I can sleep on floor, sweetheart,” he promised without skipping a beat, “its not a big deal.”
“Joel, no, don’t,” you sat at the edge of the bed and patted the space next to you, “your back is going to kill you and I can’t deal with all of your belly aching. We can share.”
“You sure?” he asked softly as you looked up at him nodded, “I won’t try anything.”
“I know,” you smiled in relief, “if there’s a man I trust, it’s you. So.”
“So.”
"Can I ask you something?" You asked so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. He sat down next to you and nodded, "why do you look at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like…I dunno," you whispered, "like the way you do."
"The way I do," he repeated softly, "which is?"
"Joel, you're so - you know what I mean," you turned to him and found that he was looking at you and very close, "oh. Like that."
“Mhmm,” he reached over and cupped your jaw with his large, warm hand, “just like that. You know what I’m about to do, don’t you?”
“Maybe?” oh yeah. You were almost positive you knew what was coming but a small part of you was still doubting that this was all real and not some wild fever dream. 
And then he kissed you, just like you had imagined he would. It was soft and sweet, barely anything that would be considered mind blowing but it was just perfect. When he pulled back, you sighed softly and he pressed his forehead against yours. 
After a few moments you stole a few kisses, both of you smiling shyly at each other. 
“Do you understand now?” he closed his eyes and you laughed softly. 
“You like me?” you asked and he just grinned. 
“Mhmm,” he kissed you again, “took you long enough to catch up.”
“What if I hadn’t?”
“I would have waited,” he promised, “you’re worth waiting for.”
“Joel,” you looked at him with the embodiment of heart eyes, “do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Kiss me more,” and he had no problem with that request at all, “please.”
2K notes · View notes
personasintro · 7 months
Text
Mutual Help | #28
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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When you told Jungkook your plans for the evening, you weren't lying. After you took a shower, you watched a movie on his Netflix account before you scurried to his bedroom. It didn't take you that long to fall asleep, although it felt awfully weird being in his bed without him around. It's stupid, but you did miss his warmth or just his scent, that lingered on the sheets only. Nothing too drastic, it's not like you were crying for his presence and for once, you were happy for him that he went out with his friends. He deserves to loosen up, just like you told him.
The buzzing of your phone is what wakes you up from your calm sleep, your mind taking a few seconds before you realize the never ending sound that woke you up is your own phone. With half–closed eyes, you see Jimin's name flashing on the bright screen that makes you groan before you accept the call.
"What?" Your groggy voice sounds loud even to your own ears, hearing the sigh of relief on the other end.
"Thank god," Jimin's soft voice resounds, "I woke you up, didn't I?" In the middle of him asking, you hear muffled music before there's a peaceful silence.
"It's--" you look at the time, "three in the morning. Of course, I'm fucking sleeping." you murmur, fumbling with your tired eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I really didn't want to call you but Jungkook insisted." he says, voice sounding guilty and you could probably perfectly imagine his guilty face too, if it weren't for the name of your best friend being mentioned.
Your tired mind suddenly starts working and you quickly realize that Jungkook is out with his friends, Jimin being one of them. "Jungkook? Did something happen?" you ask, slowly sitting up as you're waking up from the deep slumber.
"Yeah and no," you hear him chuckle, but before you can voice out your worry Jimin quickly adds. "He's fine, well drunk but fine. He insisted I've to call you."
"Jimin, I'm too tired to ask questions. Just tell me what happened." you sigh, rubbing your temples this time as a yawn leaves your mouth.
Jimin feels sorry for you, he wishes he'd be just as stubborn as Jungkook and wouldn't allow him to persuade him to call you. Of course, you were sleeping. It doesn't take a genius to know that. There would be a low chance of you being awake at three in the morning, especially after knowing that you're at Jungkook's all alone. What else could you be doing?
"Well, he got drunk and emotional, something about Kiko cheating." he says carefully, not sure how you'd react to the mention of his ex-girlfriend.
"Fuck," Resounds from your mouth, your worry increasing at the mention of Kiko and the whole incident that has been bothering Jungkook.
"Yeah exactly," Jimin agrees,  "And he just started crying, so I wanted to take him home. Calling a cab of course, before you start lecturing me about driving while drinking, Tae already did that," you giggle, finding it amusing that Taehyung is the one giving a lecture about being drunk. Well, he did have a point. "But Jungkook wouldn't want to go and just kept asking about you."
It's weird how your ego jumps at that, finding it rather appealing to the point that it strokes your ego knowing Jungkook asked for you. According to Jimin's words, he's probably too drunk to call you himself and you wonder just how much he's drunk when he can't call you. Also, the mention of him crying and bringing up Kiko speaks for itself. You do feel bad for him, you hoped he'd enjoy this evening without any drama or hard feelings. To hear that he's being sad and crying just breaks your heart.
"What an idiot," you grumble, "I asked him if I should pick him up."
"You know how he is," Jimin sighs, "He never wants to bother anyone."
"Yeah, yeah. I know..." you mumble, turning on the night lamp as you scrunch your eyes at the brightness. "What's the address?"
As you're walking towards the club, which has bad parking since you had to park your car down the street, you hug the pink cardigan closer to your body. Thankfully, the ride was just twenty minutes away from Jungkook's apartment and after Jimin informed you they'll be waiting for you outside by the time you get there, you just hoped Jungkook doesn't cause any trouble in the meantime. Or have any more breakdowns. Just like Jimin promised, as you near the club, you notice him first and surprisingly Hoseok is standing beside him. They're standing more on the side, filling the time while waiting for you by smoking a cigarette. You know Jimin smokes occasionally, especially if he's clubbing but other than that he's not a smoker, so the sight of him taking a drag of a cigarette isn't that unfamiliar.
By the time they become more clear, you notice Jungkook sitting on a curb with head hanging low looking like he's either asleep or ready to vomit any second. God, you hope he won't be throwing up in your car. It may not be the newest but you got it cleaned up recently and the thought of your car reeking from a vomit makes you want to gag. Jimin is the first one to notice you, already dropping down the roach as he extinguishes it with his boot.
"The savior is here," you hear Jimin saying, causing you to snort as you laugh while you shake your head.
They both greet you, but before you can greet them back, you see Jungkook's head snapping up as he locates you. Surprisingly, there's no trace of sadness on his face as his eyes look a little bit red but that could be easily from the alcohol. When Jimin said he's drunk, he meant completely wasted as Jungkook starts grinning at you.
"Hey baby," he slurs out, smirking as he keeps grinning at you. He looks dumb, cutely dumb and you can't help but snort at the sight of your completely wasted best friend that wiggles his brows.
"Hey guys," you greet everyone, glancing at Hoseok who just gives you a mere smile but before you can focus on the particular glint in his eyes, you look back at Jungkook who's trying to stand up.
In his state, it's very hard and practically impossible for him to do. Thankfully, Jimin and Hoseok come to the rescue and help him stand up but not before Jungkook stumbles, trying to find a balance. He's trying to swat their hands off his body, but they have a tight grip on him. You find the sight very amusing, never seen him this wasted and even though you do feel a little bit worried, you're glad he's not bawling his eyes out. Maybe he's over it.
Jungkook has different phases while being drunk, and being funny and talkative is one of them. Although, he does look like he can't even comprehend a single sentence without slurring or sounding decent.
"Finally someone normal." he comments, trying to get their hands off him as he's walking towards you.
Jimin frowns, glaring at his friend that seems to be too preoccupied looking at you to notice. But something tells you even if he noticed, he's too drunk to care right now. Sober Jungkook would never say something like that, caring too much that he could possibly hurt his friends with his words.
"Jesus, thanks Jeon." Hoseok mutters, trying to stabilize him.
Jungkook glares at him, slapping his hands away as Hoseok groans in annoyance and lets him go. You chuckle, shaking your head at Jungkook who just grins at you innocently.
"Wow, you must've missed me." you joke, reaching for his hand as he keeps stumbling. Jimin is the only one trying to stabilize Jungkook and his balance that is dancing around the edge.
"Uhm, I did," he nods, your nose scrunching as soon as his breath reeking of alcohol hits your nose. "Did you miss me?"
"Yeah, I can't live without you." you roll your eyes, causing Jimin to snort as Hoseok holds his laughter causing Jungkook to stare at you in betrayal.
"Stop," he says, sounding like he's breaking and even pouts that make you actually feel bad for making fun of him. "You're lying." he murmurs, looking down at his feet.
"Where is your car parked?" Jimin asks, interrupting Jungkook's sulking who just gives him a big glare despite his eyes shutting.
"Just down the street," you answer, pointing towards the direction you came from. "Come on, let's go home." you say to Jungkook, grabbing his hand as he blinks at you and gives you a lazy smile.
"Home, I like that. Yes, yes, let's go home." he nods, pursing his lips in a deep thought but as he's ready to take a step, he stumbles but luckily with Hoseok nearby, he quickly grabs him by his forearm and keeps him steady.
Jimin grunts at Jungkook's weight, grumbling a dry 'let's go' which you totally understand. Somehow, he always ends up taking care of a drunk person. First Taehyung, now Jungkook.
"Where's Taehyung?" you ask, letting go of Jungkook's hand to give Hoseok better space to keep him steady from one side while Jimin does the same thing from the other.
Ignoring Jungkook's whines of protests and reaching for you like a little baby, you look at Jimin who seems to be annoyed but somehow still glad for your presence. "Inside, he wanted to help but then Jin and the rest of the guys joined the booth, so he stayed and explained everything." he explains, causing you to nod.
"Thanks for doing this, I appreciate your help." you say to Hoseok, his eyes finding yours as he looks surprised that your words are aimed at him.
But it's quickly gone and just gives you a smile in return. "Don't mention it. He's my friend too." he says, smiling as Jungkook scoffs beside him.
He starts blubbering something, something that none of you understand or care to understand. It's enough to draw the attention of passersby that seem to be very amused at the sight of wasted Jungkook, and even keep chuckling loud enough for you to hear. The sight is amusing, you've to admit. Two guys trying to keep steady the very wasted one, who's the youngest but bigger and taller than any of them which makes it even harder.
Successfully, you reach your car which you unlock as soon as it's near before you open the passenger's door. Hoseok is in charge of trying to get Jungkook to sit down without bumping his head against the roof, while you and Jimin stare with worried eyes.
"I'm not drunk!" you hear Jungkook protest, swatting Hoseok's hands.
"Hey, you okay?" Jimin asks quietly, his voice hushed as Hoseok is dealing with your annoying best friend. You look at him confusingly, not understanding the meaning behind his worried eyes as he sighs. "Jungkook told me that you two broke up. And that you're staying at his place?" he asks unsurely, Jungkook's distant protests being heard in the background.
"Ah, yeah. There was something wrong with my pipes but it's fixed now. I'm moving back tomorrow, well today." you chuckle, noticing Jimin giving you that look where he raises his brow and waits for you to say something else.
"So, it's true? You broke up?"
You're not stupid. Jimin's curiosity and worry is caused by Jungkook telling him that the two of you broke up. You did agree to it, ending your deal that is, but Jimin doesn't know anything about it. All he knows is that you broke up. He doesn't know that it had been fake all along and it makes you feel incredibly guilty.
"Well, yeah," you answer unsurely. "It's nothing too drastic." you shrug, not really sure how you should react.
You've always been bad at lying, you're surprised by yourself that you kept the deal going without them knowing anything. Well, if you're not counting Hoseok being suspicious but something tells you it wasn't just your bad acting. As he explained, it was just hard for him to believe that Jungkook found someone else, out of all people his best friend that he swore he'd never date.
"You sure?" Jimin asks, looking skeptical which makes you nervous but you just give him a nod.
"Yeah, it's better this way." you assure your friend, who just gives you a smile of encouragement before Jungkook's whines are being heard again.
You glance at him, seeing Hoseok struggling as he's trying to put the seatbelt on while Jungkook protests and starts to trash his hands.
"Oh my god," you sigh, walking towards them as you gently push away Hoseok. "Jeon, shut the fuck up." you scold him, causing Jungkook to look at you with widened eyes.
You hear Jimin snort as Hoseok complains about Jungkook being like a little kid, while you tag onto the seatbelt.
"Put your seatbelt on, you moron." you grunt, pulling it for him anyway because you know he's not able to do it in this state.
Although, he looked like he'll listen to you and do it. You just want to get back home because you know there's probably still a lot of work ahead of you and by that, you mean taking care of Jungkook's drunk ass.
"Did he throw up?" you ask the guys, straightening yourself as Jungkook's head keeps dangling off the headrest which makes you snort at him. He smiles at you lazily, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he's trying to keep himself awake.
"Not that I know of, no," Jimin answers, "But he might. He drank a lot."
You sigh, hoping that won't happen or if it happens, at least he'll be able to hold it until he's out of your car. So turning back to Jungkook, leaning yourself towards him you tell him sternly; "Don't you dare to throw up in my car, Jeon." you even point your finger at him in a warning, awfully reminding yourself of your mother that used to scold you when you were a kid.
Luckily for her and yourself, she didn't have to do it so often.
"Can't promise." he says, burping as you scrunch your nose in disgust.
"Do it and I'll choke you to death." you warn him, surprised when he starts cackling as if you just told him the funniest joke. The three of you stare at him cackling as he slaps his thigh before he looks at you with a smirk.
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" he says, causing you to cough in surprise while Jimin and Hoseok burst into laughter. "Isn't that my thing, though? Wasn't I choki--"
Before the end of his sentence could be heard, you're already shutting the door harshly as you give Jimin and Hoseok a sheepish grin.
"Don't listen to him, he's just drunk." It sounds like an awful excuse and you're sure they're not buying it, but you could care less.
You're more embarrassed that Jungkook would pull out something like this, but why are you surprised? He gets talkative when he's drunk, awfully so.
"Should we help you get him inside? I'm not sure if you can manage on your own." Luckily, Jimin gets you out of the awkward position and asks a rational question which you're grateful for.
"Thanks, I'll manage. You guys go and have fun, I'll take care of him." you assure them, looking at the both of them as they smile at you.
"You sure?" Jimin asks, worriedly glancing at the car where Jungkook is sitting. Or maybe sleeping already.
"Of course, thank you Jiminie." you smile, letting him hug you as it feels like he's giving you somehow more a comforting hug rather than a goodbye one.
When you pull away, you look at Hoseok who smiles at you. "I'm sorry." he apologizes, causing you to frown in confusion.
"Why are you apologizing?" you chuckle, watching him sigh.
"Jimin probably told you. Jungkook was crying a lot... because of Kiko and what happened. I'm sorry, it's not easy watching him going through that." he says, voicing out more than just diplomatic thoughts and answers. And somehow, you appreciate that while your features soften as you give him a smile.
"It's not your fault," It really isn't. "It's not easy for him, but it's not your fault." you repeat, smiling as you give him a comforting hug. He looks shocked for a couple of seconds, but soon enough you feel his hands on your back as he gently hugs you back.
Your hug is interrupted by the three firm knocks on the window, before you both glance down at the car seeing Jungkook frowning. "Don't touch her." you hear him say behind the window, his voice muffled but clear enough to be heard as you roll your eyes.
Is he really scolding Hoseok for even hugging you? You can't with this guy. He's even more annoying when he's drunk.
"Text me when you get home, okay?" Jimin asks, causing you to nod as you assure him that you will.
The car's door is pushed open as Jungkook leans out of it, luckily the seatbelt that's digging into his chest and crook of his neck, keeps him in place. "Jiminie hyung, Hobi hyung--" he slurs, earning a set of snorts that come out of Jimin and Hoseok's mouth.
"He never calls me hyung." Jimin comments, Hoseok laughing as you just shake your head at your best friend.
"I wanna go home." he mumbles as he leans his head against the car wall and yawns.
"Thanks guys, couldn't have done it without you." you say, smiling at the both of them as you push Jungkook's head more inside as he whines but you just glare at him before shutting the door in his face before he can protest.
"Of course," Jimin nods, smiling at you as you walk around the car and open the driver's door. "Good luck, you'll need it." Jimin jokes, causing you to roll your eyes but you do laugh because you know there's a little bit of truth in his words. Okay, maybe a lot of it.
When you successfully drive out of the parking lot, you're surprised by Jungkook being silent and when you glance at him a few times, his eyes seem like they're closed and he looks like he's sleeping, although you're not sure because you're focusing on the road. However, after some time he starts fidget as he straightens himself before he looks around, or at least tries to through his hooded eyes.
"You should've taken my car." he speaks up, causing you to snort for like a hundredth time tonight.
"And why would I do that?" you ask him, chuckling as he makes himself comfortable before he turns his head to you, still making sure he's leaning it against the headrest. He doesn't trust his own body and stability.
"What's mine is yours." he says, your laugh erupting in the car.
"We're not married, Kook. Married couples say that." you laugh at him, stopping at the red light before you look at him seeing a frown and pout settling on his face.
"Who says that?" he grumbles, "There is no rule for this."
You just shake your head at him, not seeing much sense in continuing this particular conversation when it leads nowhere. And you know how Jungkook can get, you really don't plan on arguing with drunk and stubborn Jungkook. For the rest of the ride, he stays quiet most likely spacing out, his body and mind screaming for him to relax but whenever his head is about to drop, he always shakes himself out of the daze and pries his eyes open. Getting him out of the car isn't the easiest thing, but surprisingly Jungkook listens to you and stays leaning against the car while you lock it. Hugging him closer to you, you're aware that it takes one wrong step or another stumble and the both of you would be on the floor immediately. Even though the walk to the apartment building and his front door is slow, you manage it without stumbling or falling. However, you're certain you can't feel your right side where Jungkook is leaning against.
No matter how tired Jungkook seemed to be in the car and on the way back to his apartment, he seems to be awakened as you force him to sit down on the small bench he has in the corridor, trying to take off his boots. He doesn't refrain himself from mumbling a flirty remark of you being on your knees and taking off his shoes, which makes you roll your eyes but you decide to ignore it.
Leading him to the bathroom, your next aim is to get him to wash himself. As much as it'd be best for him to go to sleep, he reeks of alcohol, smoke and most likely sweat and a nice (maybe cold) shower would get him sober up a little bit.
"Jungkook," you sigh, trying to get him to stand up from the toilet seat. "You need to take a shower." you remind him, almost whining when he just hangs his head low and lets out a deep sigh.
"As long as you'll take one with me." he chuckles at his joke, shoulders shaking at his ridiculous joke that makes you groan from frustration.
Ignoring him, you start unbuttoning his button up shirt while trying to refrain yourself from looking at his honey skin. He looks up, dark orbs staring at you as he starts smiling causing you to give him a look of confusion and curiosity.
"What?" you murmur, feeling awkward when all the buttons are unbuttoned, exposing his toned chest and abs that makes you look anywhere but there.
He doesn't answer, trying to get a hold of something and it doesn't take long for you to realize he's trying to stand up. Catching his arms, you try to hoist him up with both his and your help, which you get to do and he hovers himself over you. He starts fumbling with the belt on his pants, doing an awful job trying to unbuckle it as you groan, swatting his hands away as you unbuckle it for him. Somehow, with your help of course, he manages to take off his clothes as you're rather focusing on the stack of toilet paper behind him, than on his naked figure.
"Alright," you sigh, "You can wash yourself, right?" you ask, scratching the back of your head as you open the shower door for him, eyes looking at the ceiling.
He doesn't say anything, simply getting into the shower as you turn on the water and set the right temperature for him, not too cold but not too warm either. As you close the shower door, ready to get the hell out of the bathroom, his voice echoes from the shower.
"No, don't go. Stay here." he calls out, causing you to innerly groan at his stubbornness and innocent tone. Drunk Jungkook might win an award for being the most annoying and cutest Jungkook at the same time.
"Jungkook, you're capable of washing yourself. I don't need to stand here." you tell him, rubbing your temples.
Although, there's a part of you that wants him to be safe because he can easily slip and fall. But there's something about him being completely naked and taking a shower, it's intimate and you feel like you're invading his privacy, especially when he's completely wasted and not in his right senses.
But Jungkook doesn't agree with your unspoken thoughts and snatches the shower door open before you can make another move. You stare at him with wide eyes, which drop down his body just for a second before you can feel your face burning.
"What if I slip?" he pouts, droplets of water falling down his body. "Please."
Sighing, you know you'll regret this in the morning and probably feel especially awkward when Jungkook will be asking you about this, because you know he will. He'll want to know what he was doing while being drunk.
"You're so annoying, Jeon," you murmur with a disapproving scowl, "Fine, just turn around and... wash yourself."
However, this time he doesn't fully listen to you and a sly smirk slips onto his lips as you can't help but look at his face.
"Are you blushing?" he asks, your tough and annoyed facade breaking down as you cough for a moment before you muster yourself. "Come on, you've seen me naked."
"I'm not blushing," you deny pathetically, growing embarrassed because even drunk Jungkook can notice your red cheeks and awkward face that you're making. "Hurry." you snap, turning around but you still notice his dick dangling between his legs from your peripheral vision.
With flushed cheeks and embarrassment swallowing you whole, you busy yourself preparing a towel for him. When he's finally done, you hand him the towel without looking at him and if it weren't for the awkward situation and Jungkook's nudity, you'd slap him because of the cocky chuckle that slips out of his mouth. When he's decent, you walk to his bedroom to pull out some basic shirt and boxers for him to wear, knowing he doesn't like to wear too much clothes to sleep. You hand him the clothes without another word, turning around to let him dress even though you hear a few grunts here and there as he's struggling to put it on.
"Help me," he pleads, voice soft before you hear a thud as he stumbles into the shower door.
Turning around, you find him leaning against the shower door with a lazy grin.
"You're not going to make this any easier, are you?" you grumble, eyeing the black shirt that's hanging off his neck because that's what he was able to do only.
He doesn't answer, nor you wait for him to because in this state, it looks like he's barely in his senses. Putting his arms into the sleeves, you put it on before you snatch the black boxers out of his hands. Crouching, you're trying not to look at his dick that's just right in your face. Fuck, thank God there's no one else witnessing this.
Of course, you've seen him naked before (many times) but this situation is different. Jungkook is drunk and even though he needs your help, your irritation is simply caused by the embarrassment of this situation. The elastic band snaps against his hips as soon as you're done, causing him to flinch in surprise but before he can open his mouth, you're leading him towards the toilet where you make him sit on the closed lid. You prepare his toothbrush for him, knowing he's probably in no state brushing his teeth on his own. So you walk up to him, arching your brow as he stares at you with curiosity.
"Open your mouth," you tell him, ready to put the toothbrush into his mouth but he doesn't listen and smirks instead.
"Shouldn't I be the one--"
"Shut up," you cut him off before he can say something inappropriate once again. "Open your mouth, Jeon." you frown, causing him to sigh before he opens his mouth obediently and you start brushing his teeth.
He sits there, head tilted back as he gives you a better access to his mouth. Your eyes and hands are focused with your task, trying to brush his teeth as best as you can. Which probably won't be brushed well, but at least his breath won't be reeking of alcohol and he'll thank you in the morning.
You notice Jungkook watching you silently through hooded eyes, but you don't think of it that much but that's until his hands touch the back of your thighs. You almost jump out, eyes widening at the sudden touch but you decide not to react to it that much. There's no point in scolding him because he's drunk and you're already tired to do that, you just have to get this over with so both of you can sleep.
However, Jungkook doesn't make it any easier for you (again) but his hands slowly glide up your ass cheeks.
"Jeon," you warn him, feeling him squeezing them. "Why are you touching my ass?" There's no point in asking, but you can't stay silent while he's touching you – your ass to be precise.
"You don't like it?" he pouts, speaking while mouth full of toothpaste and the toothbrush, letting his hands fall down as he sighs in disappointment.
Rolling your eyes at his childishness, you pull out the toothbrush out of his mouth as the toothpaste starts to dribble down his chin. You take his hands, pulling him up as you tell him to rinse his mouth. He does, messily but he does, which is all that matters right now. When he's all cleaned up, smelling like his favorite shower gel and fabric softener, you feel satisfied and calm that you can go to sleep. He's taken care of, he's fine and that's all that matters. All he has to do is sleep it off and he's going to be fine.
As you tuck him into the bed, you make sure there's a bucket beside it with a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand. Laying down next to him, you tell him a goodnight. Turning around to him with your back, you stare at the closet on the opposite side from you, not closing your eyes just yet. You yawn, trying to make yourself comfortable as you hear him breathing softly. You think he's already asleep, you wouldn't be surprised considering how much he drank. But then you feel him shift behind you, scurrying himself closer to the point you can feel his warmth and mattress dipping underneath his weight. Your breath hitches, a soft 'oh' spilling out of your mouth as you feel his arm draping over you before he's pulling you closer. His firm chest is pressed against your back and you hear him sigh, arm still draped over you.
"I cried tonight..." he mumbles tiredly, but you can hear the sadness behind that tired and drunk voice.
"I know," you whisper, touching his arm as you caress it. "Are you okay?"
It's a stupid question, of course he's not if he was crying. Just knowing that he's deeply hurt and was not letting it all out until tonight, hurts you too. You wish you could see him happy. He probably had just a weak moment, considering that he drank more than he probably should. Alcohol plays a huge role in this too, but it doesn't matter because he still cried.
"No," he whispers, your heart aching for him but before you can voice out your worry and sadness, he's already blubbering behind you. "I'm so fucking drunk."
You giggle, shaking your head at him. "You are," you agree, staying quiet for a moment.
There's no movement or sound behind you, other than the soft puffs of breath. "Kook?" you whisper, getting no response in return. He's sleeping.
Your mind is filled with scenarios of what Jungkook's night looked like, your mind already imagining him crying in the club with an aching heart. When Jimin texts you to make sure you got home safely, you text him back saying Jungkook is already sleeping and relatively fine. However, his next message makes your heart ache too.
Jiminie: what happened with kiko... i've never seen him so hurt
Jiminie: he was so out of it tonight
"He'll be fine, i'll make sure of it" you type, sending the text.
Jimin's text comes in seconds, the tiny smile spreading onto your lips as you read it before you look at Jungkook sleeping. He looks calm and there's no trace of sadness on his face. No matter what he's facing right now, you're there for him. He doesn't deserve this heartbreak. No matter how he'll decide, you'll be there for him every step of the way.
Jimin's right. And you read his text again, somehow it gives you a tiny bit of courage and determination.
Jiminie: I know
Jiminie: You always do
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winterrrnight · 1 month
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rafe noticing how you usually hide your real emotions behind a pretty smile and an interactive personality… <3 a bsf!rafe cameron x gn!reader blurb <3 based off this cw: talks about bottling up emotions, venting, lower case is intentional, aaaand this is again super self indulgent :p for @zyafics because we had a little chat on this :) (love you bae 💗)
rafe loved to see your smile. he loved how you were always so sweet to everyone, always laughing, always making sure everyone around was doing okay, frequently checking up on them, and genuinely being a sweetheart.
but it didn’t go unnoticed when he one day saw you sitting all alone in the university library, your head resting in your hands as you looked… sad, your brows furrowed as if you’re thinking of something deeply, and you continued to scribble randomly over a page.
he contemplated going up to you or not, but the frown on your face was concerning considering he almost never saw you frown that way.
that day, he let it slide.
another few days later, he saw you again. you were sitting in the grassy lawn of your university with your back against a tree, your knees to your chest as you looked at nothing in particular. a similar frown was etched on your face and your brows were furrowed just like the last time, and it looked like you’re deep in thought.
this time though, he wasn’t going to let it slide.
he strided over to you, and you heard the crunchy footsteps and turned to see rafe approaching you. your lips were immediately pulled into a smile as he sat down next to you.
“what’s up?” you asked, smiling at him.
he shook his head. “nothing much, what are you doing here all alone?” he asked you.
“oh, nothing really,” you said, turning to look out at the outstretched lawn again. “just chillin’, had a heavy day of classes today,”
“alright,” he mumbled, but his gaze didn’t leave your face. he kept on studying you, and saw how quickly your face had changed from the frown to the smile.
“how’s everything else though?” he asked, cutting through the silence.
“all good,” you said, and that smile just didn’t seem to leave your face at all.
“you sure?” he pressed.
you turned to look at him. “yes rafe,” you rolled your eyes. “all’s well. why wouldn’t it be?”
he shrugged his shoulders, not breaking your eye contact as he looked into your eyes very carefully, hoping to catch a glimpse of something which you didn’t show. “just wonderin’, ’s all,” he muttered. “you just… you just look like you would want to talk about something. a lot, actually,”
“huh?” you hummed confusedly as your brows furrowed a bit – but it’s not the furrow you had when you were too deep in thought.
rafe sighed, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m just saying that if anything ever troubles you, absolutely anything, I’m here for you alright? I’m not one to force someone to open up right at the moment, but I can say from first hand experience that bottling things up never works; it just hurts more in the long run. so, I’m not forcing you to talk right now, but I’d suggest you do it sooner rather than later,” he exhaled as his gentle words settled in. “I know something’s bothering you, I can see it in your eyes… and I want you to stop doing that alright?”
he took in your current facial expression; your eyes were slightly wide, and the faintest amount of tears formed at your waterline. when he saw you weren’t saying anything, he knew he had hit the right spot.
“again,” he started, “I’m not forcing you to talk right now okay? and it doesn’t even necessarily have to be me who you talk to. it can be anyone you really trust. but I’m telling you that I’m one of the people who you can freely trust alright?” he smiled softly as he leaned in and gently kissed your forehead.
he took a glance at his watch before turning to look back at you. “I’ve got to run now, we’ve got some fancy family dinner I need to be home for,” he said softly. “but feel free to text me or call me okay?” he smiled, before getting up from the grass next to you and walking away, leaving you alone as tears slowly made their way down, realising you’ve been noticed in a way you never were.
— —
if you find yourself relating to this in any way, please know that help is always available, and that you never should have to think twice before talking about feelings and things that bother you to a loved one <3 take lovely care of yourself and prioritise your mental health as best as you can 💞
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mandarinmoons · 1 month
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I don’t know if you’re open for requests but if you are… Spencer’s first ever kiss? One he initiates (even accidentally) Whether he’s younger/it’s two 13 years old kids who don’t know anything or just season 1 before Lila (because I refuse her to be his first kiss)
Kissing is something Spencer’s always been intrigued by. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about the act that made him so curious, was it a primal instinct that clicked in his brain that wanted him to explore it or was it scientific interest into human behavior. Whichever one it was, the act was something he had never partaken in and it made him a bit angsty.
It was a quiet day in the bullpen and the team was huddled over a desk as they ate their lunch and talked, this time around they talked about stories of their first time experiences, this time about the romantic kind. Spencer listened intently as Morgan reminisced about his first ever so called girlfriend, could you really call it a relationship if it only lasted for two weeks? Who’s to say, but the way that the man was talking about it made it seem like to Spencer as though Morgan knew exactly what he was doing. 
Morgan went into detail about how he and the girl shared their first kiss, a sweet little peck on the lips as they parted the school bus and walked to opposite streets. It was sweet and innocent, everyone else awed and soon enough they all were talking about their experiences with their first kiss. As Spencer kept on listening he felt himself go stiff, his lack of experience in the field being talked about made him feel uneasy. What was seen as something everyone had experience in, for Spencer, he had never even held a girl’s hand. It made him feel childish, it was something he had hoped he’d experience by now, but with the way his life had gone it gave him no time to partake in those types of activities.
“What about you, pretty boy?”
Spencer looked up and his eyes flicked across the group, everyone was looking straight at him, waiting for a response.
“I uh, I’ve never uh…,” Spencer scratched the back of his neck and Morgan patted his shoulder in return and chuckled.
“Don’t worry now, your time will come.”
Spencer merely gave a slight nod and drew his attention to the styrofoam cup of cola in his hands. He felt his cheeks heat up and tried to focus his attention back to the conversation at hand and pay no mind to the embarrassment that was whirling inside him.
As the day went on his mood was still low. He never paid much attention to the fact that he had never kissed anyone, but now that the rest of the team knew, to him, it just only made him look more of a “kid” to everyone. He may be the youngest of the team, but he could easily trump everyone with his intellect. In social situations he was a bit awkward though and that would be his downfall.
Spencer was in the kitchen, stirring his cup of coffee after adding an appropriate amount of sugar. He heard footsteps come into the kitchen and looked over his shoulder as he saw you approach him,
“Hey, how’re you doing?”
“Me? Oh um, I’m great,” Spencer gave his signature tight lipped smile and watched over his cup again.
“You’re not upset are you?”
“About what?”
“Well, the conversation we all had during lunch, the kissing thing you know…”
“Oh uh, no, I’m fine.”
“Spence…”
Spencer looked at you and saw the concern written over your face. He felt dumb being sad over such a situation.
“Well, I mean… Maybe a little.”
You smiled and Spencer felt his stomach flip, he’d always liked you and whenever you expressed concern for him his little crush on you grew.
“It’s okay, I haven’t kissed anyone either.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe,” Spencer’s eyes went wide as he realized what he had just said and his cheeks burned up, nothing would be able to hide the crimson hue..
You chuckled at his response, “Yeah well, I haven’t for whatever reason. I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone, yeah?”
Spencer nodded and as you turned around to walk back you turned right around as you remembered that you wanted to make some coffee for yourself too. However, as soon as you turned back Spencer took a step forward as well and you ended up walking into Spencer’s chest.
“Oh um, sorry,” you chuckled and looked up at the tall man.
“It’s okay,” both of your eyes locked and you weren’t able to look away from each other. Spencer reached up carefully and rested his hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Without noticing you both leaned in and a moment later your lips met in a soft kiss. Spencer’s other arm wrapped around your waist as he brought you closer and your hands rested on his chest, gripping his shirt lightly.
A moment later you both pulled back and looked at each other, lips a little bit swollen and breathing heavily.
“I don’t think I need that coffee anymore.”
Spencer chuckled and rested his forehead against yours, “Me either.”
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coldfanbou · 9 months
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Contract
Tumblr media
A mysterious marriage. A lot of questions. Will they get answered? Not right now, due to Sana's seduction.
Length 1.7K
Sana x Mreader
Next Part
You were saddened by the news of your father's sudden passing. Most of the funeral planning was done without you as you traveled back home. The long flights and delays kept you for far too long. The day of the funeral came, and you're set to be seated next to a young woman you don't know. As you greet the other guests, she comes up to join you in doing so. You look her up and down, and while she is beautiful, she’s still a stranger. You ask her a question when there's a break in the guests. "Who are you?" 
"Minatozaki Sana. Your father's widow. So you're his son?" She says with a satisfied smirk.
You're taken aback at Sana's claims of being your father's wife; he had always said he would never remarry. After a second, you respond, "Yes, I am. I wasn't aware he remarried."
"We got married a couple of months ago." She says before more guests arrive. Your conversation ends on that note as you continue to greet the incoming guests. You can feel her gaze on you; it rarely leaves you. When you glance to the side, you note how she doesn't look sad at your father's passing. As she returns to side eyeing you, you catch a hungry look in her eyes. You refrain from speaking another word to Sana during the rest of the day. The funeral goes on without a problem, though Sana does bring some attention as it seems no one else knew that your father had married before his death. The guests give their condolences to you as they leave. In the end, it's just you and Sana. She remained seated the entire time. It's only now that everyone is gone that she moves from that spot. She comes up behind you and whispers softly into your ear, "You're going to inherit everything your father had…including me." Your ears perk up, and a shiver runs down your spine at her words. You start to turn around, but Sana takes your hand and holds it as she leads you out. 
You arrive back home for the first time in over three years. The space is much like how you remember it. Sana stands behind you and takes off your jacket, putting it on a coat rack before coming back to you and massaging your shoulders. You return to your senses for a second and ask her what she meant. "What did you mean by I'll be inheriting you?"
"It’s in the contract. You'll be inheriting me as your wife." Sana continues to massage your shoulders, "You've had such a stressful day, honey. I'll go run you a bath." Sana begins to leave the room when you put your hand on her shoulder and turn her around.
"No, hold on just a moment. This doesn't make any sense. What do you mean it's in the contract? What contract?"
Sana slowly lifts her hand and cups your cheek. "I'm sorry, Honey. I can't say anymore." Sana tries to kiss you, but you pull your head back. She giggles, "It’s nice to have a strong young man. I'll go run your bath." Sana leaves you alone as she starts the bath. The muffled sounds of running water start up. You're left wondering what kind of deal was made. You think to yourself that your father must have left something behind. You head into his study and start searching for any sort of document that would give you an inkling of what’s going on. Drawer after drawer, nothing of the sort turns up, and you leave the room before Sana can catch onto you. You enter the living room and sit down, but not a moment later, Sana walks in. She's clad in only a towel, her long smooth legs out in the open. "Come on, Honey; the bath is ready. I'll wash your back." You want to argue against her joining, but at the same time, you want to keep her in your line of sight.
"Fine." You respond. Sana hooks her arm around yours and leads you to the bathroom, where she helps strip you out of your clothes. Sana never takes her eyes off you, her hands lingering on your body as she takes each piece of clothing off you. Adjusting her towel, she looks at you before dropping it to the floor. Her modest chest, topped with light pink nubs, toned abs, and nether regions, are in full view. Sana turns and leans over, dipping a finger in the water, letting you stare at her ass before she steps into the large bath. As she settles in, she looks at you expectantly. You step into the bath and sit in front of her. Though you can't see her expression, you know she's smirking. Sana leans forward, pressing her breasts against your back. Her small nubs are hard as they rub against your back.
"Isn't this nice?" She asks. When you don't respond, Sana wraps her arms around you. "Honey, do be so quiet. There's no need to be embarrassed." You can't tell if she's playing dumb, but your train of thought is broken when you feel her hand touch your cock. You immediately become hard as her soft fingers wrap themselves around your shaft. "I'll get rid of all your stress and worries from today. You can let it all out…wherever you want." She whispers into your ear as she moves her hand up and down. You immediately moan, Sana's hand doing wonders. You feel Sana nibble on your ear as she uses her thumb to rub the head of your cock. It's a slow and smooth circular motion. You become putty in her hands as she takes complete control. Waves of pleasure course through your body, and you feel yourself quickly coming to your climax.
"Ah, fuck."
"It’s okay, Honey. I can already feel your cock twitching in my hand. Let it all out for me. Let it all out for mommy." Sana giggles for a second. "Oops, I mean your wife, but I can be your mommy in this way if you want." Sana kisses the back of your ears while she continues to jerk you off. "Just let it all out for me. Cum for me." You can't hold on much longer and cum on her hand. The bath water quickly cleans her off, though. Sana continues to stroke your shaft after you've orgasmed, slowly coming to a stop. "That felt good, didn't it?" Sana says calmly. "Cumming onto my hand might've felt nice, but somewhere else would be better. Don't you think so?" She squeezes your cock twice before feeling it stiffen again. "Ooh, it's getting hard again. Why don't we continue in the master bedroom?" 
You agree with Sana and step out of the bath. At the moment, you aren't thinking straight; having fallen under Sana's spell, you follow her wishes. Water drips from your bodies as you make the walk over. Watching Sana's hips sway from side to side makes your cock stiff. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you push Sana to the side, forcing her against the wall. "Ah! Can't wait to fuck me? What a naughty boy." With your cock in hand, you rub it against her cunt while you find her entrance. Once you find it, you ram your cock inside Sana. She screams, feeling your cock split her in two with your sudden movement. Sana's hands are pressed against the wall; you put yours over them and start thrusting into the young woman's pussy. "Fuck me!" She yells, enjoying the sudden roughness. You feel Sana's lower lips stretch around your cock when you're buried inside her, her walls squeezing your cock. You can't contain your moans as you fuck Sana from behind. Her soft ass presses against you like she wanted you to go deeper inside her. 
Your hands move down to Sana's waist, pulling her back as you thrust. "You like my pussy? It's all yours." Sana moans as she turns her head to the side. You hold it with one hand as you steal a kiss. Sana's tongue tries to part your lips; you let her in. Her muffled moans become high-pitched as she edges closer to her orgasm. You break the kiss as you run out of breath. Your fingers stay by Sana's mouth as you hold her head; she uses her tongue to lap at them. Hook your fingers inside her mouth, and Sana starts sucking on them as your thrusts grow wild. You feel your orgasm approach as you continue to impale Sana. She stands on the balls of her feet, her hands gripping anything they can reach for dear life as you use her. Her whines reach their apex as she cums. Sana's pussy tightens around your cock, and her nectar sprays onto the floor, joining the water that's dripped off your bodies. A few seconds later, you join Sana in absolute bliss as you fill her pussy with cum. It feels incredible; Sana's walls feel like they're milking you for everything you have. Your legs grow weak, and you fall to the floor bringing Sana with you. 
She slowly turns around to face you, cupping your cheek. She shares a deep kiss with you as she places your cock back inside her. After a moment, she rests her head on your chest. You feel her grind against you, slowly making you hard again. "You've got so much energy. I think we'll be a good match." Sana rubs her belly slowly. "And I don't feel that full yet. I'm sure you have a lot more to give me, don't you?" Silently, you kiss Sana. Your hands run over her body as you start to learn it. 
The next morning you wake up in the master bedroom with Sana lying on your chest, cum flowing out of her well-used cunt. In the quietness of the morning, your head is clear, and you remember what you were doing before you had sex with Sana—trying to find out more about that contract.
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semisolidmind · 2 months
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What happens when they outlive angel? Since poppy was first created in the 50’s it seems like being preserved as toys has granted them longer lifespans if not technical immortality, so angel aging is going to become a problem sooner or later, and I’m kinda wondering what happens when the inevitable comes. I made myself sad thinking about this and now all of you will be too, suffer with me
(i was thinking about this as well, uuuugghhhh)
it's so so sad. what will the toys do without their one advocate, the one person who truly understands them and what they represent? when the one good home they've ever had is gone, they've got nowhere else to go.
so, they stay.
when y/n dies, the toys have a quiet burial for them in their backyard, under a big shady tree. they make a simple marker from rocks, and pick wildflowers nearby to lay on the grave. none of them speak. it was hard enough digging the grave, and unbearably difficult to lay their savior to rest.
the house is horribly quiet afterwards.
poppy is likely the strong one throughout all this. she's had the most experience saying goodbye to people she cares about (thanks to her longevity), and she attempts to maintain a sense of optimism about it all. they'll all be ok, she's sure of it. they'll find their way through this, like always. it's what y/n would have wanted. kissy withdraws into herself further, following poppy's lead and trying not to cry.
dogday is devastated. devastated beyond all measure. he was the one to discover y/n when they passed. they were so pale, he could feel their warmth leaving them. their face looked so peaceful, they looked like they had just fallen asleep. he knew it was coming, they were getting older, but—but it's still not fair. it doesn't feel real. it can't be, his angel can't be dead, nothing has ever kept them down before, they always get back up, why couldn't they get back up—
...he tries to stay calm.
he took on the duty of grave digging. he took on the heavy burden of laying his beloved angel into the makeshift coffin they were able to cobble together. he could barely keep it together when he did. he managed, but not without crying.
that night, he waits until the girls have gone to bed before he closes himself off in y/n's bedroom. in the privacy of the once-shared space, dogday allows the truly desperate, heaving sobs he's been keeping in to finally leave his chest. tears mat down the fur on his face as he cries. he shakily grasps y/n's jacket to himself, wishing that there was some way, any way, that they could come back to him. he knows humans aren't meant to live forever. but that doesn't stop him from wishing that y/n could achieve the tentative immortality that the toys have, if only so that they could stay with him.
dogday becomes somber after his angel dies. they were his source of hope, his reason for living. they saved his life in ways beyond just physical. they were the only reason he was alive at all. without them, he's...he's not sure if he wants to keep going.
but he must. he knows he has to. y/n would want him to take care of the others, they'd want him to protect and provide for them. so, without any other purpose...that's what he does.
the toys live in their savior's house for as long as they're able. it's just their luck that the house is never put up for sale, that it's just sort of...forgotten about. it becomes a "haunted house in the woods," feared and avoided. they're more than happy to become the vague, cryptic monsters in local legends if it means that they're left alone.
nobody will come by to check on y/n for a while, and the toys will have power and food (their water comes from a well hooked up to the house) for at least a little while longer. and after that, they'll manage on what they can find in the woods.
they live as peacefully as they can for as long as they can.
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h4rring1on · 2 years
Note
reader got sa’d and is just sitting on the curb with a blanket on while the cops are arresting the guy, and eddie wasn’t at the party, so when he comes he’s just very confused and when they tell him what would be his reaction? i’m craving this type of comfort right now :(
warnings: reader obvi gets sa’d, little flashbacks of the assault, eddie being heartbroken for u, swearing, i don’t know what else please tell me if there’s something i missed !!
you sat there, on the curb, covered in a blanket, the blue and red lights blinding you as they flashed. nancy and robin sat next to you while steve stood there trying to understand what the cops are gonna do.
there was no expression on your face that could help anyone understand what you were feeling. you sat there, you weren’t sad, or scared, or angry. you were just…there.
like you just completely shut down, and now you were just…existing. robin and nancy didn’t speak, they just rubbed your shoulder in comfort, they didn’t want you to speak either. they already knew what happened, they were the ones who stopped it.
a sudden flashback came to mind, how he had his hand wrapped around your throat, how you were basically choking while he got the pleasure he wanted. the only feeling you had right now, was regret. you felt weak, like you could’ve done something.
nancy and robin ran into the bathroom after hearing a scream and stopped him, but you? you couldn’t do anything. that’s what made you feel almost ashamed at how frozen you were.
hopper stood there talking to the other officers before looking at you, but before he could say anything, he heard a loud slam of a car door. he looked behind him to see eddie there, stepping out of the car.
confusion and worry consuming him as he looked around, seeing the cop cars everywhere, he kept looking around, and froze when he saw you there. your visibly shaking body covered in the blanket, with robin, steve, and nancy by your side
when he was about to get to you, hopper stopped him, you didn’t even notice he was there. you were too caught up in your own head.
hopper told him what happened, and if you were looking at him, you’d see how fast his expression changed. he looked at you with heartbreak in his eyes, guilt took over his body as he thought about what could’ve happened if he was there.
the sound of handcuffs snapped him back to reality, he looked to his side to see the man that did this, he felt nothing but anger at that moment. he ran to him and punched him, hopper pulled him back
“let me go” eddie said, fuming
“i know you’re angry kid. i am too, i know this girl, i know her. so it’s worse. but trust me, you don’t wanna do this, not right now, not with her here, at least” he said and turned to you, eddie turned to you as well and saw you staring at him right in the face
eddie stared at you for a second, hopper let him go and he got to you, the others walked away to give you two some space. he gently grabbed your face, inspecting you. he saw the bruise forming on your neck, and your cheek was red, like you were slapped, hard. your eyes were bloodshot, you looked so traumatized.
“oh my god” his voice cracked, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so—my god” he couldn’t even continue his sentence, he went in to hug you, but he heard you wince, so he refrained.
“i’m here now, i’m right here. i’m here baby” he stroked your hair and kept whispering things, you haven’t said a single word ever since it happened, and nobody was gonna force you to, it’s not like you could.
you don’t even know how, but suddenly, your breathing was faster now, everything was closing in on you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe
“hey—hey, sweetheart” he said, noticing this and trying to calm you
“i—i can’t—i” you were panicking
“baby” he said and held your hand, you turned to look at him, “take a deep breath with me, yeah?” he said and took a deep breath, you tried mimicking his actions
“there we go, that’s good, baby, that’s good. now tell me what you can see”
you took a few more breaths, “i—i see you—and hopper, and the…the police car”
“that’s right, good girl. tell me what you can hear”
“the um—you, and—hopper, and the other police man talking” you said, taking a few breaths in between
“that’s correct, good job, you’re doing so so good, can you tell me what you can feel?” he said in an assuring tone
you nodded and took another breath, “your…your hand, and the um blanket—“
“that’s great, sweetheart, you’re doing great” he said, and he kept asking about your other senses, sooner or later, you felt way calmer, and safer, because eddie was here. he was here and he was going to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.
a/n: hi anon! i hope this is good! so sorry you were craving something like this, hope you’re doing better :(
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lina-lovebug · 11 months
Text
I Will Protect You
Adam Warlock x fem! Reader
Reader is Gamora and Nebula younger sister. Seems to be a trend with Thanos' daughters to fall for goofy men.
Warnings: ptsd, torture, cursing
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Adam did not know love.
He knows his mother loved him. That even though his sole purpose was to kill and work for the Sovereign, he could feel his mother's love for him.
But being in love?
He never thought about it. It was never a priority, especially as a killer who would have no business being intrigued by anything else other than what he was ordered.
"You are an idiot."
"What?"
"But I must say I admire your technique. Staring is also how I got my wife to notice me. Although I did it for hours on end until she noticed."
Drax told Adam, who was staring longingly at (Y/N), the sister to Gamora and Nebula and their resident healer. Adam watched as a pink light emitted from her palms, healing a small injury on one of the children's knees.
"She's very pretty," Adam breathed out. Yes, he had seen specimens that were 'perfect', but you were something entirely different. Your laughter was genuine and kind, and your smile held no ill intentions behind it.
"Drax, I feel sick when I am around her. Like my stomach gets all fuzzy and weird, and-and I can't think straight. Did she poison me?" Adam asked, wondering truly if you despised him secretly.
After all, your first encounter was not a good one.
Adam recalled being beneath you as you held a blade to his throat, pressing it hard enough to draw blood and the rage in your eyes was something to remember.
He now held a small scar on his neck.
"Silly golden man," Drax patted his shoulder, "you love her."
"Love? Are you sure?" He glanced back to where you were but you disappeared.
"What should I do?"
Oh if only he should have known that Drax was the worst person to ask for advice.
_
"I'm sorry."
I turned around to see Gamora. Her arms were crossed, she was guarding herself, as she looked at me with sad eyes.
"You have nothing to-"
"You had someone who was openly loving and caring, and that's not me," I swallowed a lump in my throat. Gamora changed once she realized that Nebula and I just needed a sister, not a combat partner. I saw her make that effort, and she learned my love languages and learned who I was as a person.
When she died, I felt a part of myself die with her.
And when this new Gamora, or old Gamora, had shown up, I wanted that back. But she was just as cruel and as mean as when we first fought and she beat me.
"Wow, you don't think I know that?" I retorted, avoiding eye contact as I continued to polish my knives.
"From our first fight when Thanos pit us against each other, I knew you were only looking out for the best. That you needed to be the golden girl in order to survive, but did you know what he did?" I asked, finally looking at her.
"Yeah, Nebula-"
"No, not to Nebula," I interrupted, standing up.
"When I was eight and kept losing, he didn't just lock me in my room. He had Ebony Maw do things to me. . .he started slow by making incisions in my back to see how much I could scream, and then did this," I lifted up my shirt and her eyes widened.
"He started putting viles inside of me that he found on other planet's to see how my body would react to them. That's how I got my power to heal," I explained, "but every experiment, every needle - it left behind this."
My stomach and back held my memories. It was littered in scars that would never go away and ruined me.
"I-I didn't-"
"No one knew. Not even Nebula until a few years ago," I admitted.
"I get why you fought so hard but. . .I don't think I can forgive you."
Gamora looked like she had just seen what hell was like. A light mist formed over her eyes, realizing that whenever she won, someone else had paid the price.
"I know you'll never be her," I admitted, "but you could at least try to act like we were sisters."
"You are," She grasped my hands tightly in her own, "you've always been. I'm sorry I never saw it until now."
I removed myself from her, "I know you mean it, but I'm going to need you to go."
She hesitated but nodded, "ok."
Gamora shut the door behind her and wanted to scream. All of the "What ifs" plagued her mind, wondering what would have happened if only she had noticed sooner. But before any tears could escape, she heard a shuffle and spotted the golden boy lurking.
He looked just like she did.
Shocked and furious.
"If you do anything to hurt her, I will slit your throat in your sleep," Gamora told him before walking off, leaving him stunned.
The mere thought of someone making you cry made Adam furious beyond belief, but torturing you? Seeing how loud you could scream - how much pain you could take?
He didn't know understand love but that was not it.
Adam was initially going to go to your room and try to 'woo' you, as Drax said to do. But now, all he felt was rage. He knew Thanos was dead, along with everyone who worked for him, so he didn't know where to put this anger.
"(Y/N)?"
"Adam, now is not a good ti-" as I turned around to face him, all I saw was anger. Red flashed across his face, just like the first time we fought.
"Adam? Are you okay?" I questioned.
"I-I feel angry, and I don't know what to do. I want to kill him," Adam ranted.
"Kill him? Who?"
"Thanos."
The name still left a mark on my mind and it made me want to vomit.
"He-he's dead, Adam," I said.
"I know. But he needs to pay for what he's done to you. It isn't fair. No one so kind, so generous and loving should ever experience that," He ranted, unknowingly confirming that Adam knew exactly what Thanos did to you.
"You heard. . ." This was my fear. I finally found someone who makes me smile and makes my heart race whenever we're together, and he knows.
He knows I'm fucked up. He knows I have ugly scars that'll never disappear. He knows I have a dark childhood. He knows I'm-
He shook me from my mind by placing his hands on my shoulders, "I want to protect you. From now on, no one will ever lay a hand on you again. I'll do whatever it takes, (Y/N), I promise."
"Why?"
"Drax says it's because I love you. I only knew my mother's love but I know that when I see you, I want to make you smile. I want you to be happy and always laughing and never upset."
Love? Shit, I didn't know the first thing about it. I always thought that the torture and the lectures were love because a father always wants you to do your best. But after the guardians, I felt lost. This friendship and trust, it was love, but how could I ever replicate that?
"Adam, are you. . .sure?"
He was caught off guard, "yes, I am. Do you not love me?"
"I do, but I don't know how to express that. You deserve someone who does," I told him.
"What do you do with someone you love?" He questioned.
"You hug them, you show that you're there for them no matter what, you learn what they like, you show it in physical ways. You kiss-"
"Then kiss me," His boldness made my whole body still and I felt like face become hot.
"What?"
"If you love me, then kiss me," He stated, still as blunt as ever. My heart was running a mile, and my mind was screaming at me to stop.
But I couldn't.
I lifted my face to his and kissed him. I expected it to be a small peck, but my body wanted more. I yearned for his gentle touch and placed his hands on my waist as he gently kissed back, still unsure about his movements. His lips were soft against mine, following what I did. As I pulled away for air, he pulled me back in. It made me gasp as his hands held me firmly, his lips desperate for mine. I felt breathless as he held me closer, and my hands began to venture into his hair.
"Seriously?!"
Peter's voice made me pull back, frightened that he had seen.
"Everyone but me!" He shouted as he walked away, and I was still firm against Adam's chest.
"I thought kissing was a private affair," Adam said, confused.
"Y-yeah, it is, but my door is open. Adam, you're sure you want this? With me?" I asked, still frazzled at the kiss.
"I only want you, and we can learn how to love each together, right?" He said, so innocent but so willing.
"Yes, we can," I smiled.
"I heard of this thing called cuddling and it sounds nice. Can we do that too?"
I gave him a soft kiss, "for however long you want."
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