#making this post is already making me anxious.... if i end up changing my mind later then ill let yall know at least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moni-logues · 5 months

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Kintsugi 15

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 6.8k

Content: references to self-harm, description of self-harm scars, some chat about self-harm; oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, protected sex

A/N: I said I'd make it clear, so let's do that: IT'S THE END! THE FINAL ONE!! THE LAST CHAPTER! IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!! NO MORE!!! NO MAS!!!! FINIT!!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!!

I was so relieved to finish this yesterday and thought I would be glad more than anything to post this and finally (FINALLY!!!) bring the series to a close, but I honestly do also feel kind of sad it's over. We've been together over a year now, these characters and me; I've been actually writing them for a year but they first popped into my head 18 months ago. And now we're at the end.

Huge thank you to everyone who has beta'd for me, inc. for this chapter @quarter-life-crisis2 and @here2bbtstrash, @minttangerines, @blog-name-idk, and Amethyst

Thank you to everyone who has left comments and come along on this journey with me; it has meant SO much to me to have your investment in and enthusiasm for this story. It has made it so rewarding to tell and I hope you like their ending.

Without further ado...

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Chapter Fifteen - Spring

You rested your head gently against the window, watching the people come and go. The cherry blossoms had fallen already, gathered in gutters and collected in corners. You were always sad to see them go, but this year, you felt like they had given you something. Summer, of course, as always: the heat, the sun, the long days, the blessed relief of an ice-cold drink and even colder air-conditioning. This year, the cherry blossoms had brought you something else. Truly like confetti, they had blown around you, whirled around you, celebrating your first week of From Now On.

You didn’t say that you were getting ahead of yourself. Not this time. Because you weren’t that anxious about it, as much as that surprised you. You had all the anticipation of your first day at school with none of the nerves. The cherry blossoms had gone but they hadn’t left a hole; you couldn’t feel their absence because your life felt abundant. Last year, when you had watched them bloom and fall and fade away, you had been empty. All the joy they usually brought you couldn’t touch the sides of your despair. It hurt more to see them ushering in spring when you felt stranded alone in winter. But now you weren’t alone. Not even close.

It was a fairly mild day, just the cool side of hot, and still. You had been impatient and got ready early, hence the sitting and staring. Yoongi wasn’t due for another five minutes, but you’d been there for twenty already. You imagined you might see him on his approach to your building and get to observe him, unnoticed. You wondered what he was doing right now – driving? In a taxi? On the subway? Was he already on his feet, close to you? Was he nervous? You thought he would be. His shyness recently reminded you of when you first met, those tentative overtures of friendship, the thrill you felt when he opened himself up to you.

It was not unlike the thrill you felt now, waiting for him to pick you up for your very first date.

When he was due in no less than two minutes, you stood and moved to your mirror. You had, initially, planned to wear something that you considered sexier – that is to say, more form-fitting, a little more scandalous, a dress that showed off a little more of what your mother gave you – and then you changed your mind. You didn’t need to do that, because Yoongi already knew. He had already seen what lay beneath and it was all for him now anyway. So you dressed a little more comfortably, in a dress with a little more give, a little more fabric and flounce. You looked cute; you wanted Yoongi to think you looked cute.

Then, as you always did, you heard his footsteps.

“Babe!” you cried, leaning out of your door to see him coming from the end of the corridor.

But you almost didn’t manage to say anything at all because, whilst you had expected Yoongi, you hadn’t expected Yoongi in a suit, holding flowers. It stopped you short; you had been about to run out to him, jump into his arms, do something silly. Instead, you were flustered, grinning at him from your doorway, your heart going like the clappers and your blood roaring in your ears because god-fucking-damn, had he always been that handsome?

“No!” he called back. “Go back inside! What are you doing?”

What were you doing? Short-circuiting, a little. His hair was still long and you imagined it twisted between your fingers, soft and pullable; he was smiling, even as he scolded you, all his little teeth on display. You had always liked a man in a suit – you must have said it a thousand times – but you had not been prepared for how much you liked this man in a suit. You were going to have to get some kind of grip if you were going to make it through dinner.

“I’m saying hello!” you called back, a little too loudly now that he was closer. “I was going to run out to meet you!”

“Get back inside! I’m supposed to be picking you up! I need to knock on your door!”

Truthfully, Yoongi would have loved to have you run out of your apartment and into his arms, even if he’d tumbled, you’d stumbled, you’d both fallen to the floor in a bumped, bruised heap. He’d have loved to have thrown all caution to the wind and run away with you. But all of that was still overwhelming, far too much good for a boy who still thought he was bad, and there was a process to be followed, procedure. He was clinging to that. Like a life raft.

Yoongi had practised. In as much as you can practise speaking to a friend without actually speaking to them. He had forgotten, in all his anxiety about dating you, about being with you, being seen by you, that you were his friend. He’d had these feelings for you from the very beginning and they had never paralysed him like he felt they were now. He knew sex was not the (only) answer, that sooner or later, he was going to have to remember how to act around you. So he called each of his friends in turn to hang out with them, to remind himself, firstly, that he had them, that he was likable; secondly, that he enjoyed their company—he enjoyed company in general, more than he would ever let on; thirdly, that he could be good company: he got a laugh out of every one of them. That had to count for something.

And he bought you flowers. Because they would provide a good distraction in case all of these remembrances fell out of his head the second he saw you. And because he wanted to, because that’s what you should do when you take someone out on a date. He knew you liked tulips and it was tulip season. It felt right. And it released a little of his impulse to shower you with things, to buy things for you and haemorrhage cash to make him seem worth it.

For the longest time, money had been all he had. He had laughed out loud in his therapist’s office when he said that because, for the longest time, money was all he didn’t have. The not-having of money was the very thing that defined his life and set him on this path; it was the bedrock beneath the biggest of his life’s decisions. And then it became all he had. All he had to offer. He was still learning that maybe there were other things, too.

You did as you were told and shut the door, palms pressed against it as you listened to your heart and tried to make it slow. Then you waited six seconds until you heard his first knock.

“Oh my god, hi!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea you were here!”

Yoongi pretended he wasn’t grinning and shot you a look.

“Shut up,” he replied. “I bought you these.”

Tulips. Your favourite flower. You didn't remember ever telling Yoongi that, but maybe he just knew. They were another reason that April was your favourite time of year. Seoul Forest was full of them, hundreds, thousands of them blanketing the banks. There was a rainbow of colour in every direction; tall heads on sturdy stems barely touched by breezes, swaying like a choir. It was like a pilgrimage; you went every year. Maybe this year, you would take Yoongi.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

You took them from him, not bothering to try to restrain your smile from splitting your face in half, and leant in to kiss him. Then you stopped.

“Are we allowed to kiss?” you asked, one inch from his face. Then you moved away and started looking in cupboards for a vase you weren’t sure you owned.

Yoongi looked confused.

“Y’know, kissing on a first date?”

He still looked confused. Then you remembered. You laughed.

“Oh, of course, that’s right. You’re Mr Fucks on a First Date, aren’t you?”

You expected him to be surprised; you hoped he would be a little flustered, hoped you would get to see that pink creep onto his cheeks in a way that was just too cute. Instead, he grinned and you felt your own cheeks heat.

“Is that a promise?” he asked and your stomach swooped.

You had found a vase, tipped flower food into it, and were gently arranging the stems. You abandoned them in favour of moving closer him, then a little closer, slowly closer, until your lips were almost on his.

“Cheeky,” you muttered, eyes flicking down to his lips, amaranth pink and just a little pouty. You bit your own.

Yoongi hummed.

“So is that a yes?”

“Only if you play your cards right.”

You dragged your eyes up and slowly pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t stop yours from reaching up, tangling one in his hair, using the other to rake through the dark locks you hoped he never cut. It wasn’t exactly the kind of grip you needed to get, but every atom of your body was asking for more. It was intoxicating to be kissed by him.

It was Yoongi who broke from you (you did not have the same level of restraint), his mouth lifting in a grin as he nodded his head slightly towards the counter, where your tulips stood in their vase.

“Did I mention I got you flowers?”

“You might need to tell me one more time.”

You weren’t nervous. Not at all. On the one hand, you felt like you should be, because it was Yoongi and this felt enormous. When you stood back and looked at it, it was huge. He was one of your two (2) friends in this world and you were ruining your friendship good and proper. You could still remember the sharp-toothed despair that wound around you like a strait-jacket after what happened with Sungbin; you remembered the suffocating heartbreak of San leaving you. You knew that it could happen here. There wasn’t a guarantee that Yoongi was The One, that you were The One for Yoongi. It should have scared you.

But it didn’t. It was too hard to be anxious sitting across from him at dinner, as if you hadn’t sat and done this very thing with him dozens of times before. It was impossible to worry about whether or not he liked you when he looked at you like that, when he smiled in that way that you had always suspected was just for you. You knew he liked you because he was here. He had asked for this date and bought you flowers and he was laughing and teasing and being exactly the person you knew him to be. That didn’t make you nervous.

Yoongi had picked the restaurant carefully. Not too fancy, not too quiet, not too busy, not too empty, not too casual. He had spent a great many hours trawling the internet for reviews and photos and listings. He wasn’t usually this obsessive, but so much about it all had felt out of his control and this was in it. So he was going to get it right.

Sitting across from you, he knew he needn’t have bothered. Because he knew you didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure, sometimes, if you knew what you were eating, because you barely stopped talking to shove it in. You spoke around the food in your mouth and whirled your chopsticks around as you gestured. You picked things off his plate and dropped pieces of your own food onto it. You had this way of creating a world around yourself, such that he forgot where he was; he forgot there was anyone else around, anything else to think about. And he realised he could have taken you anywhere and it would have been just exactly this good. Because it was you.

“Do you want to go for a drink or something? I looked up a couple of bars not far from here,” Yoongi said as he led you, your hand in his, from the restaurant.

You leant up against him, shook your head and pouted.

“No?”

You shook your head again.

“Ice-cream?”

Not that either.

“Ok... Do you want to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

Yoongi seemed surprised and you saw his eyes dim and realised—too slowly, clumsily for too much wine—that you had not exactly said what you meant.

“I want to go home with you, please,” you clarified, still pouting up at him.

“Oh.”

It took Yoongi a couple of seconds to recalibrate, then he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Miss Fucks on a First Date, is it?”

You punched him playfully in the arm and he didn’t bother to act like it hurt.

“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi offered as you slipped off your shoes inside his apartment.

You shrugged. You would have one if he wanted, but you didn’t need one. You felt lush and warm and relaxed enough already. And truthfully, you were at home now, in the privacy of his apartment; you didn’t want to waste a minute with your mouth on anything that wasn’t him.

You kissed him, soft at first, because you did want to fuck on your first date, but you weren’t an animal; you had some patience. Or, that’s what you thought as you pressed your lips against his, but the thought washed away like writing on the sand as soon as you tasted him. All your impatience, all your greed, all your excitement came rushing forward, into the fray, a tsunami of feeling, all good, all for him, all surging through you like a stampede.

“I never,” you started, interrupting yourself with another kiss, one more. “I never want to stop kissing you.”

“Then don’t.”

You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body against his, suddenly too warm, hot, the fabric of your dress burning where it brushed your skin. You pushed Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders and pulled at the knot of his tie. He laughed against your lips and pulled back.

“You know you’re just making it tighter?”

You whined and let him take over, deftly undoing the damage you’d done and loosening it properly, pulling it through the collar of his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You thought that was quite long enough to not be kissing, to not be held so tight against him, you could practically feel his heartbeat in your chest, but he held you back.

When he started walking away from you, you rushed after him, grabbing his hand as he opened his bedroom door.

“Cherry?” he called softly, padding over to the bed, where she was curled up on the pillow. “You have to get the fuck out of here, ok?”

She ‘mrowed’ at him and rolled onto her back, exposing her exquisitely soft underbelly for strokes, purring when Yoongi put his hand on her. You thought to yourself that you would quite like to be the one purring under his touch, but had to accept that being jealous of a cat was insane, even for you.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, lifting her up and walking away from you yet again, taking her out to the living room and placing her on the sofa.

“You mean you don’t even give her a free show?” you asked when he returned to the bedroom.

Yoongi’s face flattened and he looked at you, pretending not to be amused.

“Would you like to fuck in front of my cat?”

You jumped up and skipped over to him with a giggle.

“No, thank you!”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and wasted no time reconnecting your mouths. Yoongi, now the cat was out of the room and the door firmly shut, seemed as impatient as you were, his hands sliding under the skirt of your dress and up, slipping beneath your underwear and squeezing at your backside. His mouth moved to your jaw and then your neck, sucking soft kisses into your skin, holding you firmly close to him.

You were impatient because you wanted more, more, and even more of him and you wanted it now. But you also wanted each moment to last. Every time his lips met your skin, they felt softer; every time his tongue rolled over yours, he tasted sweeter; every time his hands squeezed, you felt your heart race a little faster. You wanted him immediately and you also wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t get enough of him.

He moved his hands upwards, outside your dress, and made light work of the buttons at the back that had honestly taken you forever to do up by yourself. You hummed.

“You’re good at that.”

“Hm?”

“Good with your fingers.”

He chuckled and flicked you lightly with one hand whilst his other freed a button from its clasp.

“Is that right?”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

You shivered, even in the warm room, in the bright light of the sun streaming in through the window, when he pulled your dress off and you let it pool on the floor. You didn’t have time to be self-conscious, even if you might have otherwise, because Yoongi was on you, pushing you towards the bed until you were flat on your back, his mouth exploring your body as if he’d forgotten every inch of it in the last week. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and tugged down; you shuffled in response, lifting your hips and wriggling out of it in a way that was less than dignified, and less than efficient, but you didn’t want Yoongi to move off you, didn’t want to sit and then stand so you could do the job properly.

Naked, again, beneath Yoongi, fully-clothed, you held tight to his shirt collar and hoped he would let you know what he wanted. You wanted to let him lead.

And lead he did. He pulled one of your hands to his shirt buttons and you experimentally popped one open. He led your hand to the next one. You worked your way to the bottom, pulling the ends from his trousers, kissing him: his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He wouldn’t look at you and you could see the red on his ears; if you pressed your hand against his chest, you could feel the thump of his heart like a hammer.

“Baby,” you whispered as you slowly slid your hands under his shirt, his body warm against them, soft, not smooth.

He gave no reply and you nudged him gently with your nose.

“Baby, look at me.”

It took seconds that felt like minutes before his eyes met yours. They were guarded, unsure, a little bit afraid. You kissed his lips and smiled.

“We can stop here,” you reminded him but he shook his head.

“Go on.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded but his eyes were elsewhere again.

You pushed your hands along his chest, around his shoulders, forcing the shirt to fall to the bed. You let your hands see him first, your lips still employed on his neck. He was soft and warm and the dip of his spine slightly damp with sweat. You felt them before you saw them, laddering down his arms, criss-crossing his chest, a handful near his hip that were rough and scabbed, still healing.

It hadn’t occurred to you until that moment that you had never seen Yoongi in a T-shirt. That he always wore long sleeves. You hadn’t noticed. Now you knew why.

Yoongi’s face was pink now, a little pained, uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Yoongi wanted to burst into flames and drown himself both at once. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he knew he’d not be able to see for tears. He was holding his breath, waiting for something he desperately didn’t want to happen, even though it always had. The shock, the disgust, the reluctance, the holding at arm’s length.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, kissed the single, thick, raised scar on his wrist and all the smaller ones that followed. You turned him around, guiding him gently so he lay against the headboard, so you could kiss him all over, each and every one of them.

“Babe,” you called to him, crawling up his body until you hovered over him, resting on your hands.

Then you lowered yourself on top of him, skin to skin, and stroked through his hair.

“Hey,” you tried again and Yoongi nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you ok?”

He nodded again.

“Gonna look at me and say that?”

When he looked at you, it was a Yoongi you had never seen before. Shy and defeated and embarrassed and sad and there was something hurt in his eyes that almost made you angry – because no one was allowed to hurt him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

You kissed him once and then again and he cleared his throat lightly.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Yoongi...”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Some of the hesitation in his face left him then and he looked at you.

“Have you changed your mind?”

It was a little defensive, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice.

“No,” you answered. “Why would I have changed my mind?”

He looked away again, not answering, though you didn’t need him to. You both knew. But that would never have changed your mind. He could have been covered in slime or secretly a lizard-person and you’d have been just as soft for him as you were now.

Though you were glad that he was neither.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you continued. “Well, it does--” You noticed the clench of his jaw-- “because I know what it takes to do it...” You traced your finger lightly over the scars on his arm. “I know exactly how it feels and I hate that you know, too. I wish I could take it all away from you. So that bothers me. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like it’s something you have to do.

“But-” you pushed yourself up a little, sitting on his lap and pressing your hands to his chest- “actually, also, they’re proof you’re still here, y’know?” Your hand circled his wrist and you pressed your thumb against the worst scar there. “You might not have been. Any one of these could have been the last one, right? But they weren’t. It’s like... every time you do it, it’s a little bit of effort towards staying alive because there’s something worse you could do but you’re not doing that. So it’s proof. Proof that you’re here and trying and you’ve been trying and I, for one, am very glad you are still here. More than glad.”

He didn’t reply. You shrugged.

“And you’ve seen mine. My body is not exactly unscathed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your body.” His voice was stronger, more like his own.

“And there’s nothing wrong with yours.”

Yoongi had to get out from underneath you, had to stop you looking at him, at least for a moment. He knew that it had to happen, that you had to know, but this was too much. Too much of what he didn’t want and not enough of what he did. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. His chest was tight and he felt unsteady and he so badly just wanted to get back to you: you, naked in this bed, with him.

He sat up and his arms came around you and you relished the feeling of your skin on his, nothing but warmth between you. He kissed you, insistent this time, impatient again. He wanted you on his tongue, in his hands, enveloping him. He wanted to serve himself up on a plate for you, kneel and kiss your feet; he wanted to lose himself completely in the sound of you coming undone.

You shuffled off him and fumbled at his belt, at his zip, pushing them to the floor. You barely noticed the skin there, that was really more scar than skin; you didn’t see the light lines and the dark ones, crossing and re-crossing, thickening, fading, all over. Because it didn’t matter to you. That he wasn’t fresh out of the box, perfect and unblemished. No one was. And you shared a pain; the pain that led to these blemishes, these marks, these scars, it was yours, too.

So you didn’t see them as they were un-covered, as he stepped out of his clothes, as you took his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy, you pumped slowly, but Yoongi had other ideas.

He lay you on the bed and spread your thighs, trailing kisses up one side and down the other. You shivered when his hot breath hit your core and again when his mouth met your lips, his tongue licking through your folds. The pleasure felt brand new as he drank you in and you felt the exact right amount of drunk.

If you’d been sober, this would have been too quick; you’d have been too easy, too alert. It would all have been over too soon. But the alcohol blurred the edges, dulled your senses just enough to allow you to luxuriate in it: the soft, wet pad of his tongue brushing over your clit, then hard as it pushed inside you; the press of his kiss-plump lips, their seal as he sucked at your swollen bud. Like swimming through champagne, everything was fizzing and golden.

The sun hit Yoongi’s head, so bright it made his black hair brown and it shone. You tangled a fist in it, pulling his mouth closer, tipping your hips and he flicked his eyes towards you. They were deep and glazed and only half-open, his tongue still pressed against you. You whined and rolled your hips, then did it again and he let you rut against his mouth until all your pleasure was coiling tight, down into a heavy ball in your core.

Then he pulled back and shifted his weight, lifting a hand from your hip.

“Good with my fingers, right?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face, mouth sticky and shining.

“Y-e...eess.”

You answer was punctuated with the slip of those fingers inside you, and your breath hitched by the curling of those fingers, the pressing of them against your front wall. Yoongi lowered himself again and put his mouth back around your clit, the suction hard and sure. You were squirming now, all your muscles tightening, everything drawing down, deep into your core before bursting forward in a wet rush of heat.

You sighed as your limbs flopped against the mattress and your chest heaved. Yoongi wiped his mouth and knelt back, similarly breathless. He took a hand to his cock and squeezed lightly at the base, hissing slightly as he did.

You slithered off the bed, to your knees, and tapped Yoongi’s knee, asking him to turn towards you, reaching for him, for his dark, heavy cock, your mouth growing wet at the mere thought of it.

Yoongi looked hesitant.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

You tipped your head to the side and frowned.

“But... I want to, though?”

He hesitated a second longer and you thought he was going to say no, but he turned and you did nothing to hide your enthusiasm. You pressed a kiss to the tip and let your tongue lick at the pre-cum dripping from it. Yoongi grunted and you grinned because it had actually been a long time since you’d had this kind of fun.

It had been a long time for Yoongi, too, since he’d had his dick in anyone’s mouth. He couldn’t even remember the last time. He’d forgotten the heat of it, the softness and strength of a tongue, the looking down at them looking up. It was frankly criminal, he thought, that you could be so cute with a cock in your mouth. It was every bit as good as he might have dreamt, as hot and wet as he might have imagined. You pushed forward and he could feel the back of your throat, see the tears sparkling in your eyes, caught on your lashes.

He had to stop looking. He tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. He clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing down because, god, it had been so long and it was you. It was you and you had kissed him all over and you were looking up at him with wet stars in your eyes and your mouth was doing all that to him and he closed his eyes. Then you moaned with the tip of his cock at the very back of your mouth and he almost lost all control.

He swore, his throat tight, his thighs twitching. He placed a hand on your head and pushed back your hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull you off him. You wiped your mouth and grinned up at him; it was such a sweet, filthy gesture that he almost came again.

“You ok?” you asked and Yoongi fell to his knees. He answered with a kiss, licking into your mouth, pulling you against him.

“Yes,” he answered, mumbled against your lips. “Want to fuck you now.”

“Yes, please.”

And it was everything you had wanted. Everything you had forgotten sex could be. Yoongi held you close and fucked you slow and you kissed him and caressed him and the world could have fallen apart outside and you would neither have noticed nor cared.

There was something tearing inside Yoongi and he didn’t know what to do about it. Because you were holding him tight, pulling him so close to you, kissing him and moaning into his mouth and no one had wanted him this close, this soft, this slow for a long time. Ever. He had tried to pace himself before, tried not to rush through it but it was a blur to him now, the frenzy and the nerves and the uncertainty of it all rendering it choppy and indistinct. Whereas this was full high-definition. This, you, the way you touched him and looked at him, the way you said his name... it was like a dream. Like something he never thought he would have. The luxury of your warm body so close to his; the indulgence of your lips against his and your eyes sparkling like you had never seen a sweeter sight than him. That you wanted him. That you wanted him and let him know it. That you wanted all of him, as you ran your hands down his arms, as you squeezed at his chest and pressed your hand against his back, pulling him closer.

Because it wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just the thrust of Yoongi’s hips, his cock buried deep in your wet cunt; it wasn’t just the slap and slick of damp skin and arousal; it wasn’t just the pleasure you felt in your core expanding outwards, the heat in your blood, and tingling in your toes. It was all-encompassing; it was everything. It was this person who knew you, all the bad bits as well as the good, knew you and saw you and held you like you were precious. It was feeling safe and cherished and valued. It was knowing that your feelings were reflected, returned, reciprocated. It was the sweetness of finding someone who lit you up and being able to light them up the same way.

When you lay, side by side, spent and sated, you felt like you were glowing. You rolled onto your side, into Yoongi, as he rolled into you and you kissed him again, for the hundredth time or thousandth, it still wasn’t enough.

You slept soundly, without dreaming, without waking, until the sun was high in the sky again the following morning. You turned onto your back, throwing an arm behind you as you went, expecting it to hit Yoongi next to you.

But he wasn’t there. You rubbed your face and pushed yourself into a seated position, assuming he was in the bathroom and would return momentarily.

Then minutes passed and he was nowhere to be seen. You stood and scanned the floor for your underwear. Your dress was already picked up and placed over the back of a chair; Yoongi’s clothes, you could only assume, he had put in the laundry already. Your underwear was not hiding under your dress. You dropped to the floor and onto your hands and knees, to look down under the bed.

“Aha!”

“Aha, what?”

You hit your hand on the bedframe as you quickly pulled it back and span to face Yoongi, standing in the door with an iced coffee in each hand and a paper bag hanging from his wrist. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, bemused but charmed.

You twirled your knickers on one finger.

“Thought I’d lost them. They were under the bed.”

Yoongi merely ‘ah’ed and nodded, placing breakfast on the dressing table and swapping his jeans for light pyjama trousers.

“Did you bring me coffee?” you asked sweetly, knowing the answer.

“And pastries.”

You jumped to your feet and gratefully accepted his offerings, taking a long draw from the straw of a coffee so sweet and milky it might as well not be coffee anymore.

“Do you know how much sugar is in those, by the way?”

“Yep! That’s why they’re so delicious!”

“They’ll kill you.”

You shrugged.

“Oh well. I died doing what I loved: drinking sugary coffee.”

Yoongi chuckled and stepped forward until you were within arm's reach. You could feel his hesitation, so you took it from him, stepping into his body and offering him a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to get back into bed?”

You couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.

You could hear something out in the hall, something maybe like a cat’s purr, but also not a cat’s purr. Some sort of buzzing, intermittent enough that you told yourself you were imagining it at first. But it just kept coming.

“Do you hear that?” you interrupted Yoongi to ask and you held your hand up for silence as you listened for it.

A jarring, quiet kind of noise.

“Sounds like a phone vibrating,” Yoongi offered.

“Oh fuck!”

You scrambled, ungracefully, out of bed, still in just your knickers, and found your phone, buzzing against your keys, half falling out of your bag.

Taehyung.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, overly cheerful because you hadn’t checked the time and you were almost certain he was calling because you were late.

You had planned to have brunch and a debrief. You had forgotten all about it.

“When are you coming home? I’m bored.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear and, upon noting the time, realised that you weren’t late at all. Not even close.

“What do you want, Teddy? I’m seeing you later.”

“I know, but I’m bored now and you’re a dirty, little stop-out.”

“Entertain yourself! I’ll be home when I’m home. I'm not leaving now just because you’re bored.”

He sighed dramatically at the other end of the line.

“So I suppose it’s love, then, is it?”

The word made your heart skip a beat and you didn’t turn around, just in case Yoongi was looking at you.

“Maybe.”

“You sicken me.”

“Fuck off. You’re happy for me.”

“Yes, I am, babygirl. I’m very happy for you but I’m also very lonely and bored. Can’t you just come home a bit early? Yoongi will still be there tomorrow but I am fading away by the second.”

“Dying from lack of attention?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll be home when I’m home, Teddybear. Try to make it until then.”

“Alright, but you’ll be sorry when I'm gone.”

“Extremely. Now leave me alone!”

He heaved another dramatic sigh before hanging up and you skipped back to the bedroom.

“Everything ok?” Yoongi asked as you settled back in his arms.

“Teddy’s being needy.”

“Do you need to go?”

“Absolutely not!” You snuggled in tighter and pressed your lips to his chest. “Not until the very last minute, please.”

Love. You thought about the word when you left Yoongi’s apartment very late that morning. You wanted to say it then and there, tell him, but it felt like a lot. It felt like your usual Too Muchness coming back. You had only been on one date. It was a lot of pressure to put on a person and you didn’t want to pressure Yoongi. You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to take control and careen this fledging thing straight into a ravine.

It felt natural. It felt easy. It felt like everything you had wanted. It felt so right that it was maddening to you that it had taken you so long to see it. But you also understood that that had to happen. The time it took you to see Yoongi like you did now was time you spent getting things wrong and hurting and healing the wrong way and then the right way and you knew that this, this happiness you had that made you glow, that made your steps feel light, it was a result of that time, that patience. So you didn’t want to rush. Didn't want to push. You would still love him tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on. It could wait.

Until six days later, when you were sitting on the subway on your way home from work and you snapped. You didn’t want it to wait. You wanted to tell him. And you knew you could. You could say it and he could not and you would survive that. You would understand. And it wouldn’t matter because you knew he was in this, knew he would get there if he wasn’t there already. You chided yourself for waiting at all, because love should never have to wait. Love should be shouted from the rooftops, shouldn’t it?

So you got off at a different stop and changed lines and you walked as fast as you could to Yoongi’s building and you let yourself in.

“Babe!” you cried as you hastily kicked off your shoes and rounded the corner into the kitchen, a little out of breath.

“Are you ok?”

Yoongi had his apron on, a knife in his hands, vegetables on the chopping board in front of him and it was so sweet, so domestic, a perfect vision of everything you wanted. He was looking at you with concern, as well he might, given you had just burst in, unannounced, in all kinds of a fluster.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you panted. “I just had to tell you. I love you.” You moved closer to him; he put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron and you held tight to it. “I love you. As in, I am in love with you. I love you so much. And I know, I know, it’s been no time at all and it’s too soon and it’s too quick and you don’t have to say it and I don’t want to put any pressure on but I just want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you and I wasn’t going to because- because all of the above! But I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I’m in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He blinked a little and then a bit more.

“Oh.”

He sounded surprised and you laughed because you were nervous and because you felt giddy and silly and so in fucking love. You tugged him closer with his apron and kissed him, firmly at first, then softer when he kissed you back and rested his hands on your hips.

“I love you.”

He said it quietly, his mouth still close enough to yours that you could feel his lips move with the words. You laughed again and kissed him again and whispered it back to him.

“I love you.”

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

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#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fluff #bts fluff

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 28 days

Text

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Seven

Summary: Jungkook introduces you to his Hyungs but his jealous streak comes out and shows you the worst of him Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4.5k~ Warnings: JEALOUS JUNGKOOK like I mean jealous, possessive, territorial the whole nine yards (and it's pretty hot ngl lmaooo) which leads into an argument, explicit language (I think?) making out and all that stuff a/n: I have part one through eleven written already so I figured I would just post this to fill up some space until the next update for my other stories :) Start from the beginning

As Jungkook leads me towards his hyungs I feel myself getting a little anxious. I know I'm safe with Jungkook but I'm on edge nonetheless since I'm still not sure why we're here. The guys turn their backs and start walking towards the building behind them and we follow close behind.

Looking around I notice that this place almost looks like the bare bones of a warehouse but from the looks of it someone has been working on remodeling it.

Once we get to the back Namjoon opens a door and leads us down a set of stairs onto what looks like a boardwalk. I knew we were getting close to the coast but I didn't realize we could get to a place like this so quickly.

As we make our way down the boardwalk I take that time to look at all the little shops lined up on either side of us that have been long forgotten and start to imagine what this place might've looked like in its heyday.

Getting too lost in thought I feel myself trip on a loose board, and before I even have a chance to react I feel a pair of hands on my waist steadying me before I fall.

"Hey daydreamer, you alright?" Tae says with an amused smile. "Yeah, sorry" I say, quickly tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear that had fallen out of place. "You don't need to apologize" he says warmly "Just watch your step okay? Do you want to hold my hand just in case?" he offers.

"No she's fine, I'll help her" Jungkook says coming out of nowhere and pulling me in by my waist from behind. With my back now up against his chest and his arm wrapped around my waist protectively I give Tae an awkward smile but I can see from his expression that he's clearly enjoying Jungkook's reaction. "Let me know if you change your mind" he says sending a not so subtle wink my way and giving Jungkook a devilish smile clearly taunting him.

"What is this place?" I ask aloud in hopes to direct Jungkook's attention to something other than boring holes into the back of Tae's head. "It's an old boardwalk that my uncle just bought" Namjoon answers having overheard my question.

"It used to be super popular back when he was younger but I guess people stopped coming once that new shopping mall opened up a couple of miles down the road. They ended up losing too much business so they finally closed up about 20 years ago, it's kind of been frozen in time ever since. He just started working on restoring it and he finally finished the arcade about a week ago, so I thought I would finally invite you guys to come and check it out!" he continues. He seems to be putting on a laid back act but I can tell he's really excited to show us.

I look up at Jungkook with my back still pressed against his chest and notice that he hasn't made an effort to follow the guys into the arcade. "Is everything alright?" I say seeing his jaw clenching. "Jungkook" I say hoping to bring his attention back over to me.

"Huh? What? What'd you say?" he says finally breaking out of that possessive headspace. "I asked you if everything was alright? You seem a bit tense" I say turning around to face him. "Everything's fine, it's just, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" he says finally admitting to his jealousy.

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, from my perspective it seemed like he was trying to get a reaction out of you and you gave him exactly what he wanted" I say placing my hand on his arm.

"Kook I'm here with you. I came to meet your friends but I promise you, you have nothing to worry about" I say looking into his eyes trying to convey my sincerity. He looks away from mine and huffs, "Maybe it wasn't a good idea to introduce you guys".

"Aw come on they're harmless!" I say laughing at how moody he's been ever since we got here. "Plus Tae was just trying to make sure that I didn't fall" I say explaining the situation. "Yeah I know, I saw" he says looking back down at me. "So then why are you still upset?" I ask hoping to help him make sense of situation.

"I didn't like the way he was touching you either" he says, continuing to justify his reaction. "Oh come on it wasn't that bad, see?" I say placing his hands where Tae had touched me. Looking back up at him I now realize what he meant, and feel my heart rate pick up under his gaze.

"See" I say, clearing my throat, "It's nothing" I continue trying my best to convince him. He looks down at me and I can feel my skin burning up from the intensity of his stare, and then let out a small gasp as he quickly pulls me in by the waist.

"Now is it nothing?" he says into my ear in a tone that wakes up all of my sense. "Tae didn't do this" I respond in a breathless tone feeling the mood change drastically.

"Yeah, but he could've" he says continuing to speak directly into my ear, feeling his warm breath fanning my neck. He leans in closer and I soon feel his soft lips placing feather light kisses on my neck and now exposed shoulder.

"Jungkook" I choke out trying to keep a level tone. "What if someone sees?" I continue once I realize he isn't stopping. "Good, because then they'll know who you belong to" he says stopping his kisses only long enough to respond. He increases the intensity of his actions and walks towards me placing my back up against the wall of the building behind me.

I hiss slightly once I feel him start to bite and suck one spot, now realizing what he's doing. Before I'm given a chance to protest he crashes his lips against mine, swallowing the beginnings of an argument.

The kiss is rough from the very start, feeling him kiss, bite and suck on my lips with more intensity than I've ever felt. I try to suppress a moan from coming out but it's impossible from the way he has my head spinning.

Feeling myself running out of breath I press on his chest firmly and he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. Looking into his eyes and seeing the way he's looking at me makes it even harder to breathe let alone think and before I have a chance to say anything he whispers "Mine".

"Hey are you guys coming in or what?" Jin yells from the doorway. Jungkook takes a deep breath and calls out "Yeah we'll be there in a minute Hyung" not making efforts to move away from me just yet, but nonetheless Jin in turn retreats inside.

"I don't want anyone else touching you like this. Do you understand?" He says firmly. "Jungkook I already told yo-" I start in protest still feeling breathless. "I don't care. I just want you to know that I don't want anyone else being this close to you" he says cutting me off and making his stance clear.

"Okay" I respond, not really knowing what else to say. "But did you really have to give me a hickey to prove your point?" I question rolling my eyes at him.

"No, but it was a nice touch" he says with a smirk rubbing his thumb over the mark. "Oh so giving me swollen lips from making out wasn't gonna be enough for you?" I call after him as he walks away towards the arcade. "Nope" is all he bothers to say before opening the door and waiting for me to catch up.

"You're insufferable" I say as I walk past him and he gives me a light slap on my ass in response. I glare at him but am cut off before I can even utter a word of scolding by Namjoon asking me to come and play a basketball game with him. Gladly accepting I take the first chance I have to escape Jungkook before giving it a second thought.

"Have you played this game before?" he questions and then glances down at my neck where I can only assume is the place where Jungkook's mark has started to bloom.

"Uh yeah I have" respond shortly, turning away from him to place it out of his line of sight. He starts the game without any other questions and we keep going until the timer runs out.

"Yes!" he says exclaims in victory. "Yah!" Jin exclaims, having seen the exchange. "Don't be rude, you challenged her to your favorite game so of course you won" he further scolds. "It's okay Jin, I'm not very good to begin with but it was still fun!" I say trying to lighten the mood.

"Why don't you pick out a game and then we'll see who wins next" he says giving me a genuine smile which happens to be accompanied by two adorable dimples. "Sure! Best two out of three?" I propose excited for another chance at victory. "Best two out of three" he repeats in agreement.

"I would propose to play a few more but my guess is that he won't let me keep you for that long" he continues, nodding his head towards Jungkook who has his eyes trained on the both of us. "He can get over himself" I say turning back towards Namjoon.

"Now, what would you say to playing a round of Guitar Hero?" I ask excitedly. "I would say I should just accept defeat right away" he admits laughing at his lack of luck with said game. "Oh come on it'll be fun!" I say trying my best convince him to play. "Alright let's get this over with" he says shaking his head and laughing, knowing the future result.

"Man... you really do suck at this game Hyung" Tae says after watching the beating Namjoon just took from me. "Hey he tried his best" I say placing a hand on his shoulder trying my best to keep my composure.

"It's okay Luna you can laugh" he says giving me a painful smile. I can't help but break after being given permission and feel Tae joining right along side me as we laugh for a bit at Namjoon's clumsiness.

"I'm sorry Namjoon" I say, still trying to calm down. "It's okay, and call me Joon okay? Namjoon sounds way too formal coming from you" he says playfully.

"Alright Joon" I start, complying with his request. "What should our tiebreaker game be?" I ask, feeling the tingling sensation of victory continue to run through my veins. "Hmm" he says looking around the room before laying his eyes on a particular spot.

"Air hockey?" he suggests. I can see from his expression that he's trying to hide his confidence under an indifferent demeanor but what he doesn't know is that I haven't lost a game of air hockey in 7 years. Even Jungkook with his competitive spirt refuses to play with me anymore. "Sure, why not?" I respond following suit in trying to conceal my excitement.

Walking up to the table I look over at Jungkook and see he's still there watching me closely and I can see a smirk slowly growing on his lip. I don't make an effort to give him a reaction in return and turn back towards the table to grab a hold of the mallet. I feel the air turn on and notice that the puck comes out on Namjoon's side.

"Why don't you start?" he says making moves to hand me the puck. "No that's okay, age before beauty" I say and hear the boys laugh at my response as they all seem to have drawn their attention towards our tiebreaker challenge. "This is gonna be good" I hear Tae whisper to Hobi but I try my best to not let our little audience psyche me out.

Taking a deep breath I watch as Joon starts to place the puck on the table and sends it my way. I in turn send it back to him but bypass his mallet and hear the clinking sound signaling my first point.

All the guys react by laughing, cheering or teasing, but as the game continues I have yet to hear one voice during the entire match but I do my best to keep my head in the game nonetheless.

Once the time clock is close to running out I hear the boys countdown from ten and then feel that same thrilling sensation of victory I've felt time and time again as they finally shout out zero.

I celebrate my victory for a second or two along with the guys but after taking a couple of steps back from the table I cut my cheers short as I feel myself hit a wall of muscle accompanied by arm slowly wrapping around my waist.

"Good job Noona" Jungkook says in a low voice fanning his breath against my neck again making me shiver at the unexpected contact. "How many wins in a row is that now?" he continues, speaking softly enough so I'm the only who can hear. "I-i've lost count" I stutter for a second and clear my throat immediately after.

"I'd expect nothing less from my champion" he says as he rubs his nose into the side of my neck, taking a second to gently breathe in my scent before taking a step back making his hold a little less intimate.

"Wow Luna! I had no idea you would be that good! I can see why Jungkook has always been so competitive being friends with someone like you" Hobi says with a big smile on his face. "Thanks! I think?" I say confused as to if I should take it as a compliment.

"You're a worthy opponent Luna, I'll give you that" Joon says coming up to me and giving me a high five. "You too! Not gonna lie, it bruised my ego a bit losing the first game but I guess you could say it kickstarted my competitive nature" I laugh.

"Thanks for asking me to play with you!" I continue, giving him a friendly smile. "Anytime" he responds reciprocating my smile. "Hey Hyung I think Jin Hyung is looking for you" Jungkook says while pulling me in closer. "Oh alright, I guess I'll go see what he wants then" he says and makes his way over to the man in question.

"You know you don't have to do this right?" I say turning around to face Jungkook who is still holding me. "Do what?" he says feigning innocence. "This" I say running one on my hands up his arm. "I always do this though" he says in defense. "Jungkook I already told you that I'm not interested in any of them" I say trying to reassure him yet again.

"It's not you that I'm worried about, it's them" he says glancing over at his Hyungs, now surrounding Yoongi and Hobi while they compete in some sort of racing game. I don't bother to look at them for too long so as to not give him another reason to be jealous and continue on with our discussion.

"What about them? They didn't do anything" I say confused, "We were just playing games, it's not like they hugged me or something. You made it very clear from the start that you didn't want that to happen" I say trying to explain away whatever he was worrying about.

"You do realize that almost all of them were checking you out the whole time right? Especially when you were leaning over the table" he says sliding his hand down lower on my waist. "Jungkook it's whatever, don't let it bother you" I say trying my best to get him to drop it but he persists nonetheless.

"But it does bother me Luna. I'm in love with you, and I know you haven't fully figured out how you feel about me so, I don't know, I can't help but feel insecure" he finally fully admits.

"Jungkook I'm sorry but I don't want to rush into something right now. Give me some time and I'll let you know soon okay?" I say in hopes to reassure him that I'm still thinking about us. He nods his head in response and leans in to kiss me and I turn my face to the side and make him place it on my cheek instead.

"Time Kook" is all I say and pull away from him before he can pout any further.

Walking over to watch the madness that is this racing game unfold I feel someone take a hold of my hand. "Luna can I talk to you for a second?" Jin says as I turn and make eye contact with him. I politely slide my hand out of his grasp and nod my head yes, following him to the other side of the room so we can talk.

"What's up?" I ask looking up and seeing his unreadable expression. "Is everything alright between you and Jungkook?" he questions straight away. "Yeah! Why wouldn't they be?" I question trying to figure out exactly what he's trying to ask me.

"Well, ever since I saw you guys get out of Jungkook's car I noticed that things were really tense between the two of you. I know we just met, and I haven't really seen what your relationship with Jungkook is like normally, but I can tell that there's something going on" he continues doing his best to be considerate but also wanting to get some answers out of me.

"I just want to make sure that you're feeling safe and comfortable around him. I know you guys have been friends for forever from what Jungkook has said but I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk or want me to talk to him just let me know" he finishes, fully explaining his motives. I'm taken aback by his maturity and observation of the dynamic that Jungkook and I have going on and am honestly touched by his concern.

"Thank you Jin that really means a lot to me. Things are kind of rocky and uncertain between us right now but we'll get through it" I say trying to wrap things up neatly. "How long ago did he tell you he has feelings for you?" Jin says not wanting to drop the subject.

My eyes widen realizing that Jin saw a lot more than I wanted him to when he came outside. "I- um-" I fumble for a second before settling on just telling him the truth. "Last night" I admit.

"And what did you say?" he prods further. "I told him that I needed time to figure things out. I just barely caught onto the fact that he might have feelings for me a few days ago so everything about our relationship has just switched up drastically and I just haven't had time to think about it all" I respond dropping my gaze to the floor.

"You're scared of losing him aren't you?" he ask when he knows for a fact that he's right. I nod my head in response not really knowing how else to respond. "Luna, that boy is crazy about you! He's always thinking about you and bringing you up in any and every conversation he can. Not to mention how many times he's ditched us to go see you. Not that I'm complaining" he laughs trying to lighten the mood.

"He would always tell us how much he likes you and would pout when you were taking too long to respond or had to cancel on him because of work. I highly doubt you would ever lose him even if you tried" he says smiling down at me. "

All I'm trying to say is that he loves you and cares for you a lot. If you want him to back off let me know and I'll talk to him. I know what it feels like to be put under pressure, especially when it comes to relationships so know that I'm here for you if you need anything" he finishes.

I thank Jin for his advice and make my way back over to the guys just in time to see Yoongi cross the finish line. Unfortunately for Hobi he comes in last, having somehow managed to get his car stuck going backwards off a cliff and can't seem to get it to respawn in time to catch up.

While Hobi does his best to get Yoongi to give him a rematch I feel someone bumping their shoulder into mine and turn to see Tae looking down at me. We make eye contact and then see him turn his head over to another part of the arcade and makes his was over there.

I turn back towards the group of guys trying to find Jungkook in the crowd and notice that he's finally taken his eyes off of me to talk to Namjoon. I take that as my chance and follow after him to see what exactly he's wanting to do.

"Hey Luna" he says with a soft smile leaving me retuning his greeting and inquire as to why he's brought me over here. "I just wanted to see if you're having fun. You really killed it in that game against Namjoon hyung" he says with an amused smile. "Yeah it was really fun! I'm glad he asked me to play" I say truthfully turning my attention over to the other games in that area.

"Have you ever played this game?" he motions over to a Zombie Apocalypse simulator. He walks over towards it and I watch as he climbs inside the little two seater cubby that shows the war torn landscape on a big screen. I walk over to it and observe the setup.

"I haven't. Is it scary?" I ask, apprehensive to trying out such an immersive game. "I don't really think so, you just gotta keep on telling yourself it's not real but also do your best to defend yourself. It's a delicate balance" he says with an encouraging tone.

"You wanna try it out?" he offers, scooting away from me so I can sit next to him. "Sure" I say coming around to the idea after hearing his explanation. He pats the space next to him inviting me inside and hands me the gun that is directly in front of me once I get inside.

I mutter a quick thanks and feel myself getting a bit nervous from being this close to him but I do my best to focus on the task at hand.

"You ready?" he asks making moves to set up the game. "Ready as I'll ever be" I say with a nervously. "You'll do great!" he says giving me a warm smile. He pulls the trigger after having chosen his gun and has me do the same.

The pace starts off slow with a couple walkers here and there and soon escalates to more and more coming faster and faster. I flinch a bit seeing one having jumped on to the screen and do my best to get him off of me.

Tae aims his gun over onto my side of the screen to help me out and we quickly get it off and we continue on finishing the final round.

"Wow you're really good at this!" I say impressed with his skills. "You're not too bad yourself" he says bumping his shoulder against mine again making me smile at the friendly gesture. "Do you wanna play again?" he proposes the idea but I'm soon cut off by another voice.

"Hey no fair! You can't keep her all to yourself! Luna why don't you come play with me? I'm sure you'll find it very... stimulating" Hobi says in a suggestive tone while leaning on the side of the game where I'm now held captive between the two of them.

But yet again before I'm able to respond I see Hobi being pulled back and feel someone yanking me out by my forearm.

"Luna get your stuff we're leaving" Jungkook says dragging me towards the exit. "Jungkook hold on a second let me grab my bag!" I say trying to pull out of his grip. He loosens his grip on me just enough to place his hand in mine and have me lead him towards the spot I had left said bag.

Once I do he pulls on my hand and leads us towards the exit yet again. I see the guys take notice and send me a questioning look, observing the situation and contemplating whether or not to intervene. "Bye Luna" is the last thing I hear before the door closes behind us.

"Jungkook wait!" I say in protest waiting for him to listen to me yet he continues to pull me towards the building we had once come through.

"Jungkook STOP!" I yell at him finally being able to yank my hand out of his grip. "What?" he exclaims but does his best to keep his voice level. "What was that all about?" I say, finally given the chance to question his behavior. "I told you I didn't want them to be that close to you!" he says defending himself.

"Tae and I were just playing a game and then Hobi came over seconds after we had finished our game. It's not my fault that he was trying to get closer to me. And if you had given me a chance to speak for myself I would've taken care of it" I continue, poking holes in his argument.

"You shouldn't have been that close to Tae in the first place. I told you how it makes me feel when stuff like this happens" he continues trying to patch up his reasoning.

"Jungkook you're not my boyfriend!" I say finally fed up with his controlling behavior, but immediately regret it as soon as the words left my mouth. Seeing the slight change in his already frustrated expression I know I've hit him where it hurts. "You're right, I'm not" he says and turns his back to continue down the path leaving me behind.

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babiebom · 21 days

Note

Hi :3 Can I request???? Sabation (sdv) x pregnant fem wife reader headcanons

A/N: this is actually really cute and especially because I posted the how many kids I think they’ll have thing I can kinda go into detail for each kid. AHHHHHH one thing about me is that I’m a family oriented sim(person) and I LOVE kids. I know it’s a thing right now to hate kids but I don’t and a lot of my fics involve this and I’m ranting so I’ll end this note here lmao.

Tw:pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy complications, cursing, lmk if I should tag anything else!!

Bc:probably at least 10

Stardew Valley Masterlist

So in my other post I said that he would have either one or how many his partner wants

So I’m gonna say three because I think that’s like the average amount of kids people have

The very first pregnancy Sebastian is absolutely out of his mine

“Don’t touch my wife” “be careful she’s pregnant” “she can’t have that it’s not good for her or the baby”

To be honest I think you being pregnant would cause him to be more outspoken

Like usually he doesn’t say anything unless he has to speak up because he’s sorta antisocial(I don’t think he’s shy, he’s quiet because he wants to be)

But now he’s always saying something to someone.

He is literally just out of his mind with worry and he has to keep you and the baby safe

STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE❗️❗️❗️🗣️🗣️

If it’s a particularly hard pregnancy he’s even more protective

Like if your doctor says bedrest Sebastian is taking that SERIOUSLY

You are not getting out of that bed unless you have to piss or shit nothing else.

He is so lucky to have a stay at home job, and even if you take time off because of the pregnancy he can take care of the animals.

At the birth he probably passes out while seeing your child being born

But it’s not out of disgust, it’s because his emotions are out of control.

Cries at the hospital, probably more than you do are you have to be like….Seb please calm down I get you love the baby but you’re crying all over them…….

Second child he’s more calm but is still VERY strict with you

Also since you already have a kid, the dynamic has changed.

He completely takes over anything that you were in charge of parenting wise.

Won’t let you cook for anyone

And the only thing you would be allowed to do is stuff you can do in bed

The second birth goes more smoothly, and he actually stays awake through it and is able to watch your child be born

Third pregnancy he would probably be ramped up in worry especially if you have had complications before and this being your last child

Since this would be your third time going through this I think he would be sick with worry but confident that you could take care of yourself.

During the third birth he actually has the confidence to cut the umbilical cord and would probably be excited to do so

Would probably be hesitant to have sex while you’re pregnant

Like all three pregnancies he would be like ummmmmm I don’t know about that what if I hurt you?

Will have sex if you reassure him bc I do think he might have a bit of a breeding kink and would want to.

I think first and second labors were progressed by y’all fucking

Third you both didn’t need to because your body was like yup let’s get it over with

Overall a very helpful and anxious daddy

Actually tries to make sure your kids get along

And tries to make sure that his relationship with them is good.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv headcanons #stardew headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #sdv shitpost #stardew shitpost #stardew valley shitpost #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian x farmer #stardew sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian x farmer #stardew sebastian #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian

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k4katsujin · 4 months

Text

new year's hangover☆

lil drabble where you befriend ghost at the tf141 new year's party... what can possibly go wrong?

content: drunkness, socially anxious-ish reader, ghost being ghost, passing out and hickeys.

author's note: UHHH HAI IM BACK?!?!? icl im kinda hating myself because im posting a drabble instead of a full work.... am sorry.. mi bad mi bad... also im waiting for friday for new invincible content because the brainrot is REALLL

also pls pretend i posted this on new year's eve... HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YALL BTWWWWW

shotout to @unabashedcroissanttreefan bc i want to make her bitter /hj, and to @michelleart8 ! <3

anyway enjoy and pls reblog

wc: 1836

"will you be coming at the new year's party tonight?" price asked as he noticed you filling some paperwork in the common room.

"i dont think so" you sigh, "im not that much of a social person, and i still have a lot of paperwork to fill in,let alone medical files."

"are you sure?" price asked, worried you might overwork yourself, but then an idea suddenly came to his mind. "i heard the lieutenant will be there as well, rumors have it you have a crush on him, so it'd be a good opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of just- avoiding him like you do."

the thought of captain price having noticed you had a crush on ghost sent a bright blush to your cheeks, but you waved those thoughts away.

"even if he was here, that doesn't mean i stand a chance with him" you reply, losing focus on your paperwork, now that the lieutenant was mentioned. "we barely talk anyway, and he seems to hate me so..."

"he seems to hate everyone" price chuckled, "dont take it personally. did the fact that he will be there change your mind?"

"i dont know" you sigh, but your little smile was betraying you. "it will depend on whether i have finished filling those files. at what time will it start?"

"around 7!" price replied with a subtle smile, feeling like he convinced you to come. "oh,and, you can come in a casual outfit, no need to pull up the formal uniform", he winked and left.

the few hours that separated you from the awaited party came, and all of a sudden a sudden peak of anxiety invaded you.

what if everyone made fun of your awful social skills? what if you didnt dress well enough?

your overthinking stopped as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket; surprisingly enough, it was a text from price.

are you coming? ghost is here 👀

you chuckled as you put on a comfy sweater, and headed to the common room.

"you came!!" price greeted you, smiling brightly at you. "make yourself at ease, go get yourself something to drink, and who knows? maybe alcohol can help you make a move on our lovely lieutenant" he chuckled, before handing you a cup of alcohol.

"do you... want to get me drunk so i could get rid of my social anxiety?" you asked price, raising an eyebrow.

"maybe" he chuckled, already sounding drunk, "is it working?"

"not reall- ouch"

you blushed brightly as you noticed ghost was the one who stumbled into you.

"oi," he said, sounding slightly drunk as well, "im sorry. must've lost my balance, probably drank too much already. you're y/n, right?"

"y-yes," you nod, still not over the interaction, praying he didn't notice the bright blush on your cheeks, "why?"

"because..." he tries to articulate, and nearly fell on the floor, "ive been meaning to tell you... you're doing a great ass good job... dont let my mean words convince you otherwise, k?"

"oh-" you said, taken aback by this sudden demonstration of kindness, your heart melting. "thank you lieutenant..?"

the evening went on, until the cheerful "happy new year!!!" resonated in the walls of the tf141's buildings, everyone happy to finally greet the new year.

the party then came to an end, and so you decided to stay a little longer to help clean the room. once you got done, and got ready to head back to your quarters, you noticed an odd figure.

was ghost... asleep? he sure seemed to. he probably passed out due to all the alcohol he had drank, and you couldn't blame him.

that's how he somehow ended in your quarters - and if you were to be honest, carrying a man as massive as him was NOT an easy thing, but you somehow managed to. you tried your best to put him in a comfortable position on your couch, but bringing him here was already kind enough, wasn't it? so you just left him laying down on the floor, covering his massive frame with a blanket, and put a pillow under his head.

"this sure was a strange new year's day" you thought out loud, "happy new year lieutenant"

just in case something happened to ghost, you decided pull an all nighter (?), and you were right to, well at least, soft of.

in the middle of the night, ghost woke up, seemingly not over his hangover.

"i'll tell you what, y/n, ive always been in love with you." he mumbled, barely able to stand.

your heart dropped at this confession, but you had to stay lucid: he couldn't possibly mean it, it had to be the alcohol, right? that would make no sense if he was in love with you.

but you couldn't help to secretely wish what he was saying was true, after all you know the saying: drunk words are sober thoughts, and now you really hoped the saying was true there.

"lieutenant,you're drunk, you should go back to sle-"

he interrupted you by kissing you, first on the lips, and then moved on to your neck, leaving a little trail of hickeys here and there.

you gave in the kiss, you knew it was wrong, but it felt so good, but quickly waved those thoughts off: it was wrong in any way. he was your superior, and drunk, you couldn't abuse his drunken state like that.

but the feel of his lips on yours sure felt like heaven...

as if nothing happened, he smirked softly as he pulled out of the kiss, and resumed his peaceful slumber on your floor.

however, the next morning was nothing like that.

"looks like someone had fun last night" ghost grumbled as he noticed your many hickeys. "what the fuck am i doing here? and where even is here, and did you poison me? why is my head pounding?" he asked, back to his usual stern self, and you would actually be surprised if he didnt.

"youre in my quarters" you reply as you handed him a cup of anti hangover tea. "i brought you here because we were the only two remaining at the party, and you passed out. and hum... about the hickeys, how much do you remember from last night?" you ask as you look away, embarassed at the thought of last night's passionate kiss.

"i dont remember shit, why?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than mean.

"okay i..." (you sigh) "promise not to get mad at me if i tell you?" (he shakes his head, annoyed) "okay, so... you confessed yesterday." you blurt out, "but that is not all." (you gulp.) "we also kissed and... you gave me those hickeys."

"oh." he said blankly, and you could feel the blush in his voice, despite his mask.

"yeah.." you chuckled awkwardly, not daring to look at him, "but i have one question though. were you honest when you said you... 'always have been in love with me?"

your heartbeat quickened as you waited for his answer, but you had to know.

"would it be weird if i said yes..?" he asked, unable to look at your eyes, and your heart nearly missed a beat. "i mean, youre always doing what youre told to despite the fact that i treat you like shit and... i don't know, i guess that made me develop a kind of soft spot for you... do you happen to feel the same way..?" he asked, and you could feel the vulnerability in his voice.

"i- i think i do..?" you replied, both confused and relieved. "i mean, i always thought you hated me but.. this feels a bit rushed. can we do it again?"

"okay" he nodded, "how does 'hello, my name is simon riley, known as ghost, lieutenant from the task force 141, and i am in love with the wonderful y/n' sounds?" ghost chuckled with a soft smile, loving at you with loving eyes.

"much better" you reply with a soft smile, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, way better.

later on that day, when you and ghost headed to the briefing room hand in hand, price couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"see? seems like alcohol can do wonders" he whispered, and it made you let out a small chuckle as well.

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pillowmoment · 8 months

Text

“he’s not evil he’s just misunderstood” is the WORST excuse of character behavior in the goddamn book

Ok so let me explain why. I know this is often a joke, but many people use it unironically and it bothers me to hell and back

basically, this explanation is far too vague to combat any point made against a character. It’s not an argument. It sounds very dismissive and comes from a place of denial.

often when characters are considered evil, it is because they commit to actions or words that are directly harming, usually, our protagonist, or other characters.

I only bring it up because wheatley has been floating around in my mind lately, and this excuse is used on him a lot?

i’ve already analyzed him and why: no, he’s not evil, but he’s certainly not innocent. And he’s not morally gray either. He’s on a weird dot that keeps sliding around. But it’s always on the same Y-axis. His character is constant.

i’ll explain as fast as possible here so this doesn’t end up being the whole post. But, in short:

wheatley is a flawed character from the start of the damn game. He’s overly anxious, has low self-esteem, impulsive, and doesn’t think before he acts, but he’s also weirdly cocky and egotistical. He’s also incredibly self-aware. He cares too much about his image and is entirely aware of his flaws, and tries to make up for them. He’s just bad at it. He has some amount of trauma regarding the facility, clearly illustrated in his extreme fear of GLaDOS, and his tendency to lament upon, and get upset with the past. none of this changes when he takes control of the facility. While he seems less anxious in those final moments before.. well, you know what. This is likely because he feels comfortable around Chell, and also has this need to prove himself to GLaDOS, who is insanely critical of him. when he takes control, again, NOTHING changes. He is still as flawed as before. Yet his ego suddenly skyrockets, because he’s in control now! He’s in a respectable position, and a position of power, isn’t he? But he is still criticized by GLaDOS. This literally sends him spiraling. Now that he knows Chell probably hates him too, there’s nothing more to do but try and make himself seem scary, since he thinks that it’s what made people respect GLaDOS. This also doesn’t work. As his mental state gets worse and worse, his bad traits become more and more pronounced. He’s reckless and aggressive. Until eventually it all spills over. His own actions, technically, lead to his own demise. If he hadn’t been so confident in his deeply flawed plan to kill chell and glados, he probably wouldn’t have ended up in space. If he hadn’t been so restless and angry, he would’ve pushed to keep testing, and everyone would’ve probably died in a massive explosion when the place self destructed.

he is not evil. He is not innocent. He is FLAWED. He can’t just be placed on a scale of “good or evil.” That doesn’t take his character into account at all. He’s a really good example of a complex character. He can’t be simplified into “good guy” or “bad guy”

he can be boiled down to an antagonist, but that doesn’t automatically equal evil.

and this can be said about MANY characters people often defend with the empty excuse of “nobody understands them!”

A handful of my favorite characters are often defended this way, and it completely erases anything that makes them unique.

they aren’t misunderstood. They tried to fucking kill people. There’s no justification for that. motivation is such an important thing to consider, and i feel many people skip over it when it comes to commonly debated characters. Why did they do it? Was it because they felt like the needed to defend themselves? Or was it because all that emotion had been sitting in their stomach for so long and now it’s twisted into nothing but a desire to hurt people?

You cannot say you like a character if you ignore their complexity and everything that makes them unique.

It bugs me so much that a lot of Wheatley fans just say he’s innocent.

his villain arc is so IMPORTANT to his character. His bad traits are so fucking important. He wouldn’t be the same without them. Ignoring them means you’re viewing the character like the cover of a book, and completely ignoring it’s interior. All you see of them is a hollow shell. There’s nothing to it. Nothing to enjoy.

For the love of god stop excusing characters actions just because you like them. I adore wheatley, he’s been so important to me for a very long time. But i’m not going to sit here and say he’s not a bad person because i like him. He’s a bad person and i love that for him. It’s what makes me love him.

at the same time, it’s also not good to be overly critical of a character, because you are also missing the entire point of their existence. Like i said, characters can’t be simplified into one or the other.

ok rant over.

#portal 2 #wheatley #Ranting #rant #grrrrr #:3 #feel free to add ur own opinions on this post!#I love reading people’s thoughts on this stuff #Especially in regards to wheatley #He’s so cool….#You know whenever i see people hate him i always think #Like… god forbid a woman do anything… am i right?

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nunsongici · 6 months

Text

"For you. For all of us."

I do believe "for you" was originally intended for both of them, or even all of them. But, (spoilers,) by the end of this, my delusions win.

Although I'm a shameless lokius shipper who can and will talk about them even on a first date or a job interview, I do believe there was much more going on in this scene than just a showcasing of a tragic love story. And that's not saying that wouldn't be meaningful (these types of stories are the only reason I still read fjjffj stop that's actually very sad...)

For me the story is very similar to how Luca's story ended. Hear me out, please, I'm crazy but I might not even be that crazy by the end of this.

Loki's first season and Luca both came out in June of 2021 so I might just connect them subconsciously, but the way Enrico Casarosa (director of Luca) said the movie was open to all interpretations hasn't left my mind since then. That's a huge part of making art, leaving the interpretation up to the viewer and not giving clear instructions. This way you can actually showcase such layers and depth that are much more similar to real life emotions. Because the line is blurry, no matter what. No label is clear enough to say why you love the way you do and how you do it. It's complex and beautiful.

Loki and Mobius, their relationship is beautiful because it has this complexity. I think it's worth mentioning, that what I'm about to say is a subjective interpretation, because this is my idea of love.

They did develop that friendship that articles like to highlight and we love to clown.

But seriously that platonic friendship is there and it doesn't cancel out the hints of romance at all. That's why I'm also okay with the sylki kiss. Although the first time watching it, for me it felt unnecessary, I can see the significance of it happening. It's an emotional moment, them failing to recognise what they want, their unawareness of the bigger picture, and the comedy of it all, him falling in love with himself. Also... we never really talk about why Sylvie accepts the kiss and her inner conflicts? I need to think a lot more about Sylvie and her wants... but that's not gonna happen in this post, because I'm already going on, anyways... Guess what, Mobius calls this out two times.

"What a incredible seismic narcissist."

"It’s a complicated relationship, okay? There’ s a lot unpack when you’re basically in a relationship with yourself. They say opposites attract. No." *does that face, taking a sip of his shake💅*

It's the same of him being the only one who mentions Loki's behaviour changing. (I'm not sure if he's the only one noticing, but he's the only one who makes the choice of calling it out.) And I also love the way he says no to Loki when he asks him to trust him. Loki stays calm, and just says "watch".

This is so!!! Loki has been doing this for so long, he looks kind of numb to it – this might have happened many times before and he's done explaining or calming Mobius OR he's okay with Mobius's distrust because he on the other hand trusts himself enough that he doesn't have to feel threatened to lose their bond. He knows their bond is strong enough that he doesn't have to worry when Mobius's trust fades for a moment. And the episode proves me right when in the next moment Loki gets access.

"Yes!" Mobius says, grabbing Loki's arm with both his hands, anxious and relieved for a small moment!!!

And that's real trust, friendship and relationship right there.

Comfort, sacrifice and honest moments like these make me feel loved the most. You can't entirely trust someone, you can't expect love to stay the same and you can't expect that the past to just fade away, you can't forgive easily and yet you keep hoping.

"That's a lot of hoping." Sylvie says.

And Loki is the key and his beautiful, beautiful character arch.

Most of these points are connected to my own experiences of friendship and the working relationships I've seen. Just like in Luca, we make mistakes, sometimes things that are hard to forgive and this is kind of the essence of being human.

Now back to Luca and the way Mobius has to touch Loki like his life depends on it. There are touchy people (and it took me some time to realise I'm one of them.) Enrico says:

“We talked about it and I mean, I think the reason probably we didn’t talk about it as much and, to a certain degree, we’re slightly surprised by the amount of people talking about romance is that we were really focusing on friendship and so pre-romance. But it is a kind of love, right? There’s a lot of hugging and it’s physical and my experience as a straight man certainly wasn’t that. The things we did talk a lot about is what is the metaphor here for being a sea monster, for being different? And some people seem to get mad that I’m not saying yes or no, but I feel like, well, this is a movie about being open to any difference.” (source)

Yes, I do recognise the worries about queerbaiting, and yes, I can only wish that wasn't the issue at Disney. But imagine for a moment, a world where this isn't the case and we didn't have to fight with tooth and nail for representation. In that case this story works perfectly as a friendship and yet it doesn't cancel out the chance of it snowballing into romance.

And then there's the last scene. This post sums it up. What I need to add to this is that most story elements are finished. Loki's Glorious Purpose ending is tragic, angsty and hurtful but it's done, finished. His friendship with both Mobius and Sylvie, tragic angsty and hurtful, still finished. What remains and what drives the audience crazy, and in need for explanation is Mobius being shown in between his lives.

I've seen a lot of people make posts about this alredy. How the show kept telling us that Mobius doesn't want to see his life on the timeline, how Loki knows and brings this up to Sylvie, but it's never further explained, really. Other than the natural conclusion that you just might not want to give up your known reality for something new. The show introduces characters who would, so it's not that everyone would hesitate.

Mobius let go of Ravonna, although it hurt him. Mobius did not remember OB, Mobius got scolded by Sylvie. Hunter B-15 (or Verity, my girl♥︎ i love you so much...) and Casey might be his good friends but we don't really see that apart from that goodbye scene. (Which by the way, hurt like hell...) The only reason left is that Mobius cannot live without Loki properly and the last damn scene proves. this. to. be. the. case!!!!

"Let time pass."

I... I love movies man...

(end notes:

– I almost started writing a new paragraph about how this parallels to Spiderverse but let's just forget about that, because that's a box I don't want to open right now, because I will feel ✨dumb✨

– In the Hungarian dubbing he says "For you, Sylvie" and that perfectly sums up this shithole of a country... They did not put Sylvie into the subs though, a win is a win i guess...)

#loki spoilers #spoilers #loki season 2 #loki #loki tv show #loki series #lokius #rambling #mobius #sylvie #reviews from ici

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ghostoffuturespast · 4 months

Note

hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️

WIP Game Here

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…

(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)

And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡

SIG - So It Goes

(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)

SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!

I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.

I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.

Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.

River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.

River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.

For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.

I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.

River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.

Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.

I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.

One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.

From The Top

(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)

From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.

Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.

I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.

NR - Night Running

(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)

Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.

It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.

Les Preludes

(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)

Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.

I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...

If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻

#wip game #ask away!#tag you're it #cyberpunk 2077 #from the top #fic: so it goes #works in progress #long post #river ward #nothing comes before night city

23 notes · View notes

ynisreal · 4 months

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wires (8) - michael afton x reader

author´s note: helloooo tumblr! so, i've already uploaded these two chapters to ao3, because my main fan work consumption is on the site… sorry for the delay in posting them here :P summary: Michael tells you part of the truth. You and Michael clean up the establishment. Where is Ennard?

"You know what his goal is, right?" Henry's voice echoes in Michael's memories. Of course he knows, that same goal was hinging and hammering on Michael's memories all the way to your house. "Ennard must be looking for a new body to camouflage himself with again," Henry reminds the younger man of each metallic limb entering his stomach and wearing his skin like a coat. Michael wasn't going to forget the animatronic's purpose, having experienced first-hand what the big robot intended to do.

"I know, but he won't be able to find one so quickly. The person he chooses has to be injected by Remnant through the scooper before he dies or, anyway - during, as happened to me," Michael's answer to Henry's question pops into his memory, reminding him of the seriousness of the situation they were in, "I don't think Ennard knows about this, so until he finds out, there will be other bodies just like Noah's, failed attempts to find a puppet for this piece of shit."

That's Michael's fear. It's the same fear that makes him hold on a little tighter to the hands that are intertwined on his torso. You notice the change in his grip, finally understanding that you weren't the only one afraid of going back to the establishment. All along the way, Michael has been giving you these little indications that he was also afraid of what had happened, even though he didn't want to show it to you. The sudden grip on your hands, the slightly controlled breathing and the tension in the broad shoulders of the man in front of you. When there was a red light and Michael's motorcycle stopped, the man's hands brushed against your thigh, his anxious fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm on your skin. Honestly, you feel a little guilty for not comforting him, but you know how serious Michael is about his secrets and what he decides to share, so you don't want to force an opening and end up fighting with him again. You don't have the strength to get into a fight about who yells the loudest with Michael right now, with the vivid images of Noah's organs racing through your head.

"Thank you for coming to pick me up," you thank him, trying once again to distract yourself and Michael from the fear you were both feeling on your way back to the establishment. "Sure, I promised I'd help you carry the weight on your back, and I'm going to do just that," Michael replies, in a slightly happier tone than his demeanor showed. He was trying to reassure you and show confidence, which you could appreciate in him.

You smile under the large helmet that surrounds your face, "Is this the extra helmet you use when you offer girls a ride?" you joke, trying once again to ease the tension in his shoulders. However, this seems to have the opposite effect when you feel his shoulders tense up once again, perhaps even a little more. This makes you open your mouth in shock, "Wow, here I was just joking, and little did I know that I was another one of your victims," you imitate an angry tone, wanting to hear what Michael's response would be.

"Calm down, it was only two," Michael replies quickly, turning his helmeted head slightly in your direction, keeping his eyes on the road. "Apart from you, of course," the last comment being added in an obviously teasing tone, the man clearly amused by the little jealous tantrum you were throwing. "Hm, I see, should I assume that they also worked with you? Or that you also wrote them notes?" you add, continuing to dramatize the situation, amused by the lightness in which you and Michael were chatting, which completes its task in distracting both of you from the fear hanging over both your minds.

"No, that was just you," Michael says seriously, which surprises you a little, given the joking tone the subject was taking.

It's true. You feel it almost immediately.

"I didn't used to get too involved with the people I had sex with or talked to, that only started with you," Michael adds, not really caring what his words meant or what they suggested.

True. Again.

Your cheeks immediately blush. Shit, how Michael had the ability to dominate your thoughts and make the problems surrounding your head seem like ants next to his magnitude. "Well, what's in the past doesn't matter, I'm glad you've changed. You're the kind of person that everyone would love to meet," you replied awkwardly, not knowing how to react to Michael's sudden confession, letting the first words that came into your mind take over your facial muscles and spill out of your mouth.

Michael doesn't answer. After all, that clumsy little reply of yours brought a light into Michael's mind. He had changed, after meeting you, after so many months locked in the silence and darkness of the establishment, after dying and having to drag his own corpse out of a dark alley, Michael had changed. And this change was a good one, of course he still had certain reactions or behaviors that were already automatic in his brain, but even unconsciously, he had opened up to you, he wanted that opening. Michael was willing to open all his scars for you to look inside, through all the blood and pain.

"We're here," Michael says, seeing such the familiar establishment lurking on the sidewalk. You raise your head to look through the tinted window of the helmet, feeling your stomach rise in your throat and threaten to come out of your mouth. Days passed, Noah's case was still open, analyzing suspects, the sun still rose and fell the same way as before, but your fear was still there. Michael's company made you feel safer, knowing that neither you nor he would ever walk those same corridors alone, but it was inevitable that you would create various scenarios in your head about how the two of you would end up dead in the same way as Noah.

Michael noticed your hesitation, so he squeezed your hand that was still wrapped around his torso, signaling that he would be entering with you. He would help you carry the tiring weight of fear, even if his hands were growing calluses from having carried the same fear alone for several years.

The engine noise ceases and you look around the parking lot, unaccustomed to the scenery belonging to the establishment. You remove your helmet awkwardly, wrinkling your nose as you feel some of your hair being pulled along with the material. Your eyes meet the dark glass of Michael's helmet, and you wait a few seconds, a little confused by your companion's delay, when it finally hits you.

"Do you want me to go in first?" you ask, your voice soft and your head tilting slightly in sympathy. Michael's gentle laugh makes itself known and he lifts his hand to stroke your cheek.

"No need, just wait for me at the exit to the parking lot," he replies, knowing that you would feel uncomfortable entering the establishment alone, but you still wanted to make him comfortable. Michael still had no plans to show his face to you, that hadn't changed, so he appreciated your respect for his secret.

You nod and give him a small kiss on the hand that was hidden in a glove, which you assumed was part of the bike's equipment. Your footsteps echoed through the establishment as you walked up to the large red door that marked "Exit" in black letters. Michael waited until the footsteps were far enough for him to take off his helmet, wrinkling his nose when he felt bits of skin from his face getting stuck in the material. Shit, he would have to buy a wider helmet to avoid the cracks that were forming in his face, leading to some black patches from the necrotic muscles. He picks up the backpack he had brought, reaching for his hoodie and the black surgical mask he had brought. After lifting the hood from the hoodie, the upper part of his face was hidden, along with the lower part which was covered by the mask.

After a few minutes, you hear Michael's footsteps echoing through the garage, signaling to you that he was coming to meet you. "Is this the exit?" you ask, given that he's been working in the establishment longer than you. Michael saw the red door next to you and made a positive sign with his hands, showing you the new bandages that covered his fingers and hands. The famous mask and hood you were used to seeing every week are back, and you finally realize how much you had missed Michael. Honestly, you were grateful. A lot of feelings went through your head these last few days, especially with Noah's death and the story Henry told you, which helped you realize that: life is grey. It doesn't judge, it doesn't help or facilitate nor does it hinder or slow you down. Life gives what it can, and now, you were extremely grateful for what little Michael shared with you. Whether it was a blind kiss, a faceless figure or sweet words that were muffled by the mask. Life gave it to you, and you felt grateful for what seemed so little to other people, but was immense to you. And for Michael too.

"And the wage earners always come back to collect their wages," Michael said casually, letting out a theatrical sigh as he opened and held the large, eye-catching door for you to pass through. You let out a small laugh, "True, the chocolates my sister likes are very expensive these days," the same joking tone in the man's voice is heard in your own, enjoying the light mood you were starting the shift in. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's just your sister who eats them," Michael says sarcastically, calling the elevator as he pushes the button that instantly lights up. You let out another laugh, pushing the man's arm a little too hard, just to provoke him. But honestly, with the short contact of your hand on his toned arm, you realize that even if you had used one hundred percent of your strength, Michael might not have moved at all.

The elevator finally opens its doors, making a loud noise, as apparently all the doors in this establishment do. Michael lets you in first, extending his arm between the open space of the doors to prevent them from closing. As you enter that familiar environment, the reality of the place you're returning to makes itself present in your stomach again. Memories of you running through the corridors and praying to any entity that would listen to you so that you wouldn't be the next victim return to your mind, letting the discomfort begin to grow in your body. You are not alone is what you try to repeat to yourself, as an attempt to stabilize your anxiety. And it was the reality, you weren't alone, Michael was with you, the man who always tried to help you and ease your worries, why should this time be any different? It wouldn't.

The man next to you found your sudden silence strange, imagining that the memories and traumas of that night must be tormenting you. He still didn't know the details of what you had done or what you had thought on that day, only receiving the narrative through indirect sources—via Henry and the reports the older man had brought home. His imagination filled in some of the gaps, relying on the fact that Michael had been through similar experiences a few times to make accurate assumptions. "Close your eyes," Michael says impulsively, his voice coming out hoarse, surprising even himself as if his body had taken action before he realized what he was about to do.

You hardly needed time to react, immediately complying with Michael's request and allowing your sight to be stripped away. Your swift response exuded desperation, a realization that left you a little embarrassed. It became clear how effortlessly Michael could read your body language, especially in your most vulnerable moments. Your other senses took over, enabling you to listen to Michael's movements. You heard the elastic of the mask being stretched and the friction of the material against the man's skin, indicating that he had removed the object. Almost immediately afterward, your sense of touch allowed you to feel Michael's lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow and sweet, the small cuts on the man's mouth adding a subtle tickle, especially when you reached out to grab the material of his hoodie, bringing the two of you even closer. The affirmation you sought was present in the shared kiss—Michael was here. The same Michael who had promised to help you, no matter how challenging things became.

The sound of the elevator doors opening echoes through the closed room and you feel Michael's hand cover your eyes, even though you've kept them closed. The sweet taste of the man's lips disappears, replaced by the cold breeze that envelops the bare lower part of your face. "We're here," Michael whispers, his husky voice close to your ear. You nod positively, a little nervous about your prolonged lack of sight. The hand covering your eyes finally leaves, allowing your vision to return, the dim lighting of the establishment invading your eyesight again, irritating you slightly.

You glance at Michael, who already has his mask back on. The affirmation you were repeating was now firmly in your mind, so you didn't hesitate to take the first step, making your way towards the heavy, noisy doors of the main hall. This time, the loud sound didn't startle you, showing how determined your brain is to ignore any kind of fear, focusing solely on the mantra hammering away at the back of your mind. Michael follows you, satisfied that the little bit of encouragement he provided in the kiss worked, pleased with the image in front of him: you attempting to move forward. It won't be easy, but he can try to make it easier for you.

Michael follows you, noticing how you're walking a bit too fast through the main hall, searching for the cleaning utensils to organize the chaos that the police and investigators had left behind. Michael's strong arm appears in the corner of your vision as you reach for the mop bucket.

"Doll, slow down, I'm here to help you," his voice is once again close to your ear, "I'm glad you're determined, but don't forget that I also have my role in helping you," he continues, grabbing the bucket with ease and placing it on the floor in front of you.

"Okay, sorry, I'm just afraid this wave of motivation is gonna leave too soon," you express, rubbing your hands on your uniform, a sign of your sudden hyperactivity. "So don't use it all up within seconds, just take a deep breath and calmly use up your motivation battery, so you don't go into total denial about everything that happened," Michael says calmly, raising his arm to pick up the other utensils. "Honestly, denial would be a good way to deal with all this," you admit, watching as the man in front of you, once again, gathers up all the items and then leaves you empty-handed.

Michael turns his head towards you, letting the dim light illuminate the upper part of his face. With so many emotions over the last few days, you'd forgotten: Michael's eyes were completely dark. A dark black that consumed all the light in the room and didn't reflect a single glint. You remember the drawing you made that associated this feature, which at the time you thought was imaginary on your part, with the eyes of a powerful villain. It's true, it was a look that would make any villain envy the darkness and emptiness that his gaze conveys. But you couldn't possibly think that about his gaze, knowing that Michael wasn't a villain, at least not in your eyes. You looked away, not wanting Michael to find out that his eyes were uncovered. After all, if he kept secrets, you could keep yours.

"Don't say that," the man's voice is serious, "Denial won't do any good, in fact, reality will only hit harder afterwards," Michael says. Truth, you feel it again. Damn, you wish you could tear your insides apart so you could stop feeling these intuitions. Feeling your body betraying you and agreeing with Michael.

"Yeah," you reply dryly, in denial about being able to stay in denial, basically. "I hate to be cliché, but time heals all wounds, and well, justice heals other wounds too," Michael looks back at the shelves, reaching for the cleaning cloths and gloves.

"Have you experienced this before?" your voice comes out hoarse, a little frustrated with Michael's advice, not wanting to accept the reality that you would have to cope with your emotions and fears. The man doesn't stop in his movements, continuing to throw the cloths he found into the bucket in front of you. He takes a few seconds to respond, as if he's thinking about what to say.

"Yes," Michael says, "Noah wasn't the first death in this establishment."

Well, what the fuck? Isn't this kind of information usually shared with new employees?

You don't answer, your body speaks for itself, your eyes going wide and your hands clenching your uniform. "What do you mean?" your voice comes out a little broken, your fear returning almost instantly. Michael realizes this, so he makes the decision to tell you this story in another manner. "I'm going to tell you, I just need you to close your eyes so I can comfort you," he says, his voice heavy with anxiety. Shit, it was hard having to be careful about the secrecy of his appearance and keeping you physically close at such times.

You sigh and close your eyes again. Michael brings you close, covering the top of your face once again with his hand and letting his other hand caress the fabric of your uniform that was covering your shoulder. "It's been a while since that body was found," Michael is careful with his words, not wanting to scare you or expose himself too much, "Henry, the man you met, was the one who found the body, but the killer was already identified in that case, so you don't have to-"

"Did this man come back to life, or did something happen to him after death?" you ask curiously, remembering the tale Henry had told you. You really didn't believe that the man had come back to life, so you assumed that it must be some kind of lesson or significance that the employees of this establishment shared. Well, you were partly right.

"What do you mean?", the hand on your shoulder stops abruptly, surprised by your question. "Henry told me that he knew a story about a man who had another chance in life after he died," you explain, your hand reaching for Michael's to return the caress on your shoulder that was helping you to calm down, "Well, I assumed that it was a well-known tale in the establishment, and since Henry found the body, he may have tried to pass it on to me," you conclude, a little confused by your own statement. "Forget it, I must look crazy," you add, finally finding Michael's hand as you feel the familiar bandages around your fingers.

Michael smiles beneath his mask, evidently Henry must have shared the story of his death with you. "Would you like the story to end like that?" Michael asks, resuming his caress on your shoulder, "For the corpse that Henry found to come back to life?". You think for a few seconds, not understanding Michael's question, but regardless, you decide to answer: "Yes, it would be less gruesome than ending up with Henry running around the corridors afraid of being the next one, just like me," you shrug, the sincerity in your voice making your speech seem a little too casual for the reality of your statement.

"Okay," Michael smiles, a smile so big that he's afraid the necrotic tissue on his cheek will tear deeply. "You mentioned that the killer was identified, is he under arrest?" you ask.

That's going to be impossible to explain, Michael thinks.

"No," the man replies sincerely, not wanting to delve into who, or rather what, the killer was. "That's why I'm here with you, it's safer for both of us, and believe me, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that these same stories don't repeat themselves with you or your sister."

"My sister?" you vocalize, your hand that was stroking Michael's bandages quickly ceasing. "Michael, what does my sister have to do with this?", your voice sounds irritated, which makes Michael hesitate in his movements. Shit, he said too much.

"She has nothing to do with it, Y/n, calm down," Michael blurted out as he felt your hand grip his tightly. Not that it was actually hurting, but he could sense the desperation in your tone. "I only vocalized my concern for both of you, I know how much you love and care for her."

"Okay, but why should the murder in this establishment worry my sister?" you asked once again, the irritation you felt still not subsiding.

"There's a killer on the loose, Y/n, that's what I'm saying, we don't know where he is," Michael knows that what he's telling you is the opposite of comforting or calming you, but it's the truth. He didn't want you walking the streets carefree or letting your sister come home from school completely alone. Ennard was still on the loose, and he was testing bodies until he could find one that would hold up, which won't happen until Ennard realizes that the corpse needs Remnant.

You sigh, letting the depth of Michael's statement settle within you. He was presenting facts that were difficult to accept, the realization that your sister or other people could be in danger. You couldn't afford to let fear paralyze you, to be as openly vulnerable as you were being, you needed strength and courage in this moment, especially since your little sister depended on your protection and care.

While Michael could bring you comfort and motivation, this line of thinking brought you courage and determination. You had to control your emotions, after all, it wasn't just your life that depended on it.

It worried the man when he didn't hear any response from you, but soon after, he listened to your breathing become more controlled, as if you were trying to calm your thoughts and stabilize your heart. "I understand, thank you for clarifying that to me," you finally reply, your voice strangely calm, "I needed to hear that, thank you Michael," you add, raising your hand to caress his other hand, which was still positioned over your eyes.

Michael smiles, satisfied with the conclusion of the confusing and unexpected conversation you two shared. So he carefully lowers his mask, sealing the discussion you two had with a small kiss, just to bring you and him a sense of comfort and closeness after a sensitive conversation for both of you.

When you feel the hand being removed from your eyes, Michael is already wearing his mask and standing at the same distance he considers safe. Your gaze falls on the utensils already positioned in the bucket, apart from the mop and broom in Michael's hands. You crouch down to pick up the bucket with the cloths and cleaning products, but Michael's arm reaches for the item before you can grab it.

"Why do you still try?" Michael's voice is laced with teasing, totally different from the tone you two had been talking in a few minutes ago. You let out a hearty laugh when you saw that Michael was practically hugging the broom and mop with one arm, squeezing them tightly against his body so they wouldn't fall off, while his free arm was carrying the bucket. "If you'd rather contort yourself to carry the bucket than let me handle a broom, honestly, you're crazy," you smiled, holding out your arms, hoping that Michael would make an exception for today.

"Call me crazy all you want," he says, ignoring your offer and starts walking through the corridors in search of the mess made by the investigators. You roll your eyes, amused by Michael's extreme insistence on being a gentleman, but you still follow him down the corridors to start your day shift.

"Fuck, couldn't those jerks collect their damn tapes?", Michael's voice rings out through the corridors until you reach Ballora's gallery, where you were. Hearing him get angry about this makes you laugh as you organize some boxes that the cops had emptied during the investigation. "Damn it, just put that shit in the garbage can, did they have to leave it on the floor?", Michael finally makes his way to the door of the room you were in.

"Michael, it's our job to manage the establishment, their only job is to investigate," you explain, without taking your eyes off the task you were doing, sorting out the items that were for the decoration box that ended up on the floor due to the policemen's carelessness. "But it's also their job to have the minimum of human dignity and throw garbage in the garbage can," Michael replies, still frustrated by the mess that had established itself in the Funtime auditorium: badly cleaned blood, torn yellow tapes on the floor, empty coffee cups everywhere and, to complete the humiliation, the staff toilet near the auditorium was clogged. Not that Michael needed it, he no longer has a functioning digestive system, but you did, and the asshole cops apparently didn't think about your digestive system while they clogged up the only fucking toilet in this establishment.

"Are you going to unclog the toilet? I can finish the boxes quickly and get it done," you asked, turning your body towards the door. You saw Michael standing in the doorway, holding two transparent garbage bags, both visibly full. "No, I'll do it," Michael replied in frustration, not at you, but at the mess. As much as he found the months he spent alone in the establishment frustrating, he had created a sense of home for the place. For him, seeing this messy and untidy place that he'd practically lived in for months would burst a vein, well, if he had veins with blood pumping through them.

"You're already cleaning the auditorium, which I believe has been left in a mess of blood and other filth," you plead. Michael had immediately offered to clean the auditorium, knowing that it would be uncomfortable for you to relive your memories there, even more so with the blood barely cleaned up by the investigators who collected the body and the various tapes written "Crime Scene".

"No, I'll clean the auditorium and the bathroom, no problem," Michael put the bags down, sighing at the effort he'd been putting in all afternoon. It was strange, to spend the whole afternoon mopping the floor and walking back and forth through the corridors to carry bags of garbage, and not break a sweat. He felt hot and breathless from the hard work, but he couldn't sweat anymore. "I don't want to kiss you later and have you smell like stale coffee and bleach," Michael explained, putting one hand on his waist and the other to loosen the hoodie he was wearing, shaking the fabric of the collar so that a breeze of air would cool his dead body.

"Oh yeah, then I'll have to smell that on you later," you laugh, not at all convinced by Michael's explanation. "I don't want your sister to be traumatized by the stink she'll smell when you get home," Michael says, his voice carrying a provocative tone, which makes you smile once again.

Michael looked extremely attractive right now, even with his face covered. The fabric of the hoodie really helped with the masterpiece in front of you, making no effort to hide the man's physique, apart from the fact that, with the movement he was making with the fabric, you could see a bit of bandage around his abdomen. You had discovered yet another feature of your sexual preference with Michael, finding the bandages he wore on his hands extremely attractive, even if you didn't understand why he wore them. A good amount of time had passed since the episode in the control room, and honestly, all you wanted now was to have the opportunity to feel Michael like that again.

"Doll, I'm going to throw this shit away and finish the auditorium tomorrow, I need to sort out the fucking toilet by today," Michael announces, picking up the bags again. You nod positively, "I like it when you call me that," you say with a fond smile on your face, happy to have Michael working with you, it really managed to distract you from the fact that the two of you were cleaning up the mess of the policemen - policemen who had come to investigate a murder.

"Brings back good memories, right?" Michael's voice echoed through the corridors, the malice evident in his tone, but he missed the opportunity to see your cheeks blush and your eyes close in shyness. But your face bore a smile, good memories indeed.

You took the opportunity that Michael had taken on the task of cleaning and unclogging the toilet to check the Scooping Room. Over the last few days, you had called the company a few times, explaining the situation of the robot forgotten in the establishment. The secretary had been polite to you, but she repeated that there was no record of the animatronic you were describing, an animatronic with several exposed wires and white plates forming a face that held a hat on top. You were confused by the situation, which she tried to explain could be some robot from another establishment or an export error by the construction company. The secretary explained that they were swamped with demands from the redesign of this facility and the lawyers who were handling the lawsuit over Noah's death, so she couldn't give you a definite date of when someone would pick up the lost animatronic.

So, walking quickly through the Funtime auditorium, avoiding looking at any traces of blood or, frankly, anywhere other than the small door of the Scooping Room, you decide to check on the animatronic, even to see if the police had removed it or done anything to the robot. When you enter the dark room, the animatronic is no longer next to the door, which makes you think almost immediately that it must have been removed, but as soon as your eyes get used to the darkness of the room, you can see the animatronic standing next to the large scooper in the middle of the room.

The animatronic was positioned in a creepy way, its arms, which were tubes and tubes of wires, were next to its metallic body, with its eyes turned towards the door, where you were standing. Next to him was the large scooper, which you assumed was for rebuilding or destroying the robots. "Well, it looks like they left you right here," you vocalized in a low voice, making sure Michael didn't hear any noise coming from the auditorium. The animatronic was submerged in the darkness of the place, the open door with the low lighting of the auditorium didn't do your vision any justice, you could only see the white plates that formed the robot's face and the long tubes that escaped from the metal body. Some dark spots were on the animatronic's white face, which made you think that the policemen must have moved the robot and let some coffee drip onto the plates. You were still amazed at the lack of care the investigators had shown with the establishment.

When you hear footsteps in the corridor and Michael's voice calling your name accompanied by some complaints about the smell in the bathroom, you immediately close the door to the scooping room and practically run through the auditorium, taking care not to bump into anything and cause a loud sound that would attract Michael's attention. "Y/n, let's close up and leave, I can't stand that stink any longer, tomorrow I'll bring a gas mask to keep cleaning the bathroom," Michael says, as he walks towards Ballora's gallery, but quickly notices that you are no longer there. "Y/n?" Michael says louder, wanting to hear an answer from you before he turns this establishment upside down, creating more chaos than the policemen left behind.

"I'm here," you reply as you run down the corridors to meet Michael. "Where did you go? Finished with the boxes?" the man asks as soon as he sees you running towards him, his hood hiding the frown of concern that has formed on his eyebrows. "I went to have a look in the auditorium, but I came running when I heard your call," you explain, placing your hand on the old walls of the corridor, trying to calm your breathing. Well, it wasn't entirely a lie, but you still felt bad about lying in front of Michael, especially about a subject he clearly felt strongly about.

"Hm, you could have told me," Michael replied, crossing his arms, "It's okay, next time, just let me know before you go to the auditorium, I don't like the thought of you alone in that place," the man explained, his husky voice filling your ears with a tone of distress.

"It's okay, Michael," you responded, smiling awkwardly due to the shortness of breath you were still feeling. "Let's go, you need a shower," your attempts to calm your breathing allowed you to inhale deeply of the reek that covered the man at that moment. Honestly, you were relieved that he had offered to clean the bathroom, you wouldn't put up with that smell for a second before vomiting.

"Wow, look what a gentleman gets for cleaning the bathroom for a girl," Michael imitates a sad voice, "Get used to the smell, doll, you'll have to cling to me on the bike on the way home," the man adds, letting out a small laugh while your face contorts into a disgusted expression. "Honestly, I'd rather walk," you admit to the man in front of you, who, upon hearing your statement, lets out another laugh, this time more sincere and louder than the first.

"I'll walk with you then," Michael starts heading towards the auditorium, moving past you, while your figure is still leaning against the same wall, trying to rest your body from the effort you've exerted today. "I'm going to lock the rooms, wait for me here so we can head down together," he said, stroking your hair gently as he came across your clumsy figure, still leaning against the wall. Your gaze was on the floor, giving Michael free access to run his fingers through the strands of your hair, which were shiny with sweat and a little messy. For Michael, it was another reminder that your body was alive, your body was warm, sweating and flushed red, unlike the cold, purple fingers of the dead man.

You nod positively at him, feeling the touch of careful fingers in your hair go away, accompanied by the sound of Michael's footsteps once again echoing through the corridors. The wall was strangely comfortable for you, so as Michael had asked, you didn't move, letting your whole body lean against the wall as you waited for Michael to return and leave.

The man does his task quickly, locking all the rooms that had been opened in the investigation and checking if the ones that remained locked were properly closed. Arriving at the auditorium, Michael moves in hurried steps towards the door that was so familiar from his nightmares. Now he and Noah shared the same place of death. No matter how much his steps faltered or how much his dead heart screamed at him to get away from that door, he always checked to see if it was closed. It seemed that his soul recognized the place, as all the organs that were no longer active in his lifeless body twitched and writhed in pain. Michael unconsciously raised his hand to protect his abdomen, an unnecessary and useless action for his current situation. His stomach had already been ripped open, all his organs had already been expelled onto the floor, Michael's survival instinct had nothing left to protect.

Even though his hand was shaking, he reached out for the handle, which, to make matters worse for Michael, was open. At that moment, the fear ceased, the feeling of rage and revenge taking over Michael's entire body, already expecting to find Ennard behind that door. He couldn't risk leaving that door open, not with you here, not with your figure standing a few meters away from this room. The door swung open abruptly and violently, the dust that guarded the entrance flying everywhere given the room's lack of use.

There was no one there. Or rather, there was no animatronic. The room was dark, but Michael could draw this room with his eyes closed, he didn't need light, the memory that terrified him every night would help him navigate the room. The man wasn't stupid, he knew and had experience with the way animatronics hid, so he made a point of checking every corner or square meter of the small space. Michael felt his soul almost jump out of his body once again as he stood inside the Scooper Room, recognizing that it was here that he had lost his life, it was in this small space that Michael didn't see the light, Michael didn't hear, see or feel anything for the first time in his life. At least, he couldn't feel anything after he felt the large piece of metal puncture his stomach. He couldn't hear anything after his ear almost bled from his own screams. Ennard was the last vision he had.

Ennard wasn't here. Michael felt selfish for being relieved, at least, he didn't want to imagine how he would deal with knowing that Ennard was in the establishment at the same time as you were. However, that meant it was somewhere else, loose on the streets of this city in search of a corpse to dress, just as he had done with Michael.

The man quickly closes the door, locking it before going to meet you.

#fnaf fanfic #fnaf michael afton #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #michael afton #michael afton fanfic #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #scooped michael #five nights at freddys

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archiveikemen · 10 months

Text

Liam Evans Main Story: Epilogue (Blind Love)

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

this story contains nsfw content. minors please just scroll past and ignore.

Victor: Her Majesty and I both wish for you to continue being our fairytale writer. … Will you accept this offer?

Kate: Yes, of course. I humbly accept your offer.

Even after I had worked as a fairytale writer for a month as promised, I chose to stay and continue my work.

It became a routine to be typing away on my black typewriter at the end of every day.

I wrote records of the bloody punishments done by Crown.

Just in case those records would serve as crucial pieces of evidence, I would always make sure to be as detailed as possible.

I paused halfway through typing a report and read the part I wrote about Liam’s current situation.

– Flashback Start –

(“Still no change in Liam’s sense of taste”...)

— The day Liam and I were making breakfast together.

Liam tilted his head as he held the bottles of salt and sugar in his hands.

Liam: Hm… sorry, Kate. I still can’t taste anything.

Liam: Can I leave it to you to do the seasoning?

Liam: I’ll do the plating, serving, and cleaning.

I flipped through my report while thinking back to my memories with Liam.

(“Liam has difficulty with sleeping”.)

— Every morning, I would wake up to Liam staring into my face.

Liam: Good morning, Kate. Your bangs are springing up, so cute.

Kate: Good morning, Liam. Were you awake the entire night?

Liam: Hm… kind of. But you don't have to worry about it.

Liam: Seeing your face is enough to make me full of energy.

Liam: Hey, can I get a good morning kiss?

— One night, when it was raining heavily.

I was tagging along with Elbert and Alfons for a mission, but we faced a little trouble due to the rain. And before we knew it, the clock had struck midnight.

(It’s already this late. It’s long past the time I told Liam I would be home.)

The carriage travelled through the forest towards Crown’s castle, Alfons spoke while looking out of the window.

Alfons: Oh? There’s a soaking wet stray cat sitting at the front door.

Elbert: ... Is that Liam?

Kate: E-Excuse me, please allow me to alight first!

Kate: Liam!

Liam: … Kate.

Liam, sitting at the front steps of the castle without an umbrella, lifted his head.

Liam: Thank goodness… you came home safely…

Kate: W-What are you doing out here without an umbrella?

I touched his hands and they were as cold as ice, he had been sitting outside for hours.

Liam: I did think to wait inside. But as time went by… I became increasingly anxious.

Liam: I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of you being injured… or even worse, you never coming back…

Liam: My mind was overflowing with those unpleasant thoughts.

Liam: I’m so, so glad you're safe…

Liam: I… I don’t know what I would've done if anything were to happen to you.

– Flashback End –

With a rustling sound, I closed my report.

(I once heard from somewhere that it’s not easy for people to change.)

Even now when our love is mutual, the things haunting Liam’s heart will never disappear.

It’s the same as how scars don’t easily fade away.

(But I know that there's definitely some changes inside of Liam.)

Liam: Kate, I’m home.

Liam entered my room through the door that was left slightly open, he looked so much like a cat when he did that. I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Kate: Welcome home, Liam. Good job on your rehearsal today!

(Hm?)

Kate: You look very happy. Something good happened?

Liam: Wow, Kate, you saw through me as expected.

Liam cheerfully came to my side.

Liam: “Wuthering Heights” is going to have a revival performance.

Kate: Wow, a revival? That means it was requested by the audience, right?

Liam: Yup. I’ve been mentioning to Tom about wanting to act as Heathcliff again, I’m so happy.

Kate: Again?

Liam nodded.

Liam: “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”.

Liam: You told me before that you liked this line from the story.

(Oh…)

I told him that back when we didn't know each other very well.

Liam: When I performed the first time, I didn't fully understand what that line meant.

Liam: But I think I understand it a little more now.

Liam: … It’s because I’ve fallen in love with you, Kate.

There was a burning passion in Liam’s eyes.

(The old Liam would never be able to express his love this boldly.)

Although he still feels a little embarrassed to do so, he tries to shake off any feelings of hesitation and expresses his love for me.

Because this kind man knows that it’s what I want.

Kate: I’m looking forward to the performance.

Liam: … Yeah.

We locked eyes, and without another word, our lips met.

We kissed each other, changing angles, and Liam whispered into my ear after our lips parted.

Liam: … I’m getting turned on.

His voice was smooth like thick honey, invoking an indescribable feeling in my stomach.

(The old Liam would never express his own desires like this.)

It made me more than happy to know that I was what he desired.

Too embarrassed to say it to him, I gave his hand a tight squeeze and smiled at him, giving him the green light to gently push me down onto the bed.

Liam took off his jacket and with practised hands, he removed my clothes.

Liam: … You’re beautiful. And so lovely.

He pinched the peaks of my breasts between his fingertips.

I bucked my hips and the moans I had been holding in spilled out of my mouth.

Kate: Ahh…

Liam: They’re getting pointy. … I want more.

Liam licked my pointed nipples with his wet tongue as he gently squeezed them like he was trying to make a show of it.

(... This is so shameful.)

I felt so embarrassed and shameful that I almost couldn't take it any longer, but I was more than just willing to let Liam have what he wanted.

When my nether region was getting very wet, Liam pushed his fingers inside me.

Liam: Haha… you’re so wet. You’re feeling good, huh?

Kate: Nngh, ahh… please don’t say that out loud…

Liam: Let me say it. Because you get all flustered whenever I say something that makes you embarrassed.

Kate: Hnngg, ahh…

After pumping his fingers in and out of me countless times, Liam finally pulled his hand away and spread my legs apart.

Liam: … Please, Kate. Say it.

Liam: Say that you want me…

(I can’t bring myself to say that… but…)

The impatient look in his eyes pushed all my feelings of embarrassment aside.

Kate: … I want you, Liam.

Liam: Mm, of course.

Kate: Ahh—!

He entered me in one hard thrust, making me tightly grab the sheets.

Liam: … Are you okay, Kate?

Kate: Yeah…

Liam: … You’re so cute.

I gripped Liam’s back as he slammed his hips into me relentlessly, like he was greedy for my love.

(The biggest change of all is that he was now right in front of me.)

(And I’m here for him.)

I loved the things that changed, and the ones that remained the same— I loved it all.

From the very bottom of my heart, I cherished every single day I spent with him.

Liam: …

Liam stopped moving and frowned.

Liam: … Recently, there have been times I feel confused.

Liam: Whenever I’m with you, my heart beats so loudly. … It’s as if every day, I’m turning into a new person.

Liam: When I feel afraid, I look at you and think that…

Liam: As long as my feelings for you remain the same, everything will be alright.

He wanted to say that as long as he kept holding on to one thing that doesn't change, he’ll gradually be able to accept the changes that were happening inside him.

Kate: … Is that so?

Liam: … Yeah. With you by my side, I won’t be afraid of change or what tomorrow will bring me.

There was knowing what our future holds.

But one thing that we could be certain about was that we would be together tomorrow, the day after, and always.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #niki translates

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jackie-sugarskull · 4 months

Text

Today marks 7 years since the reawakening of my Captain Underpants hyperfixation, which had been asleep for a very, very long time.

I had first discovered the books much like any kid in the late 90s/early 2000s; at the Scholastic Book Fair. If I remember correctly, the first one I had found was the second book, Attack of the Talking Toilets. I remember thinking how silly the cover looked, and it drew my little elementary school self in like a moth to flame.

I had quickly read it and absolutely loved it, and like discovering a new favorite treat for the first time, I immediately wanted more.

I was able to find the first book in my school’s library so I was able to get the full story on the two best friends who pulled the ultimate prank by hypnotizing their grouch of a school principal, and how it immediately became the worst decision they ever made. And I loved every second of it.

As the years went on, I eagerly anticipated the Book Fair’s arrival at my school and would beg my mom for a few dollars extra, just so I get my hands on the newest adventure.

I devoured every single story I could find and bought as soon as I could, and each one was more entertaining than the last. From alien lunch ladies and zombie nerds, to a megalomaniac professor with an incredibly silly name in a giant robot with charts that you could use to give yourself a silly name (mine is “Poopsie Bananachunks” BTW), to an insane hypnotized woman with Medusa hair that gave atomic wedgies.

The more I read and reread these stories, the more I couldn’t help but think that it would make a pretty fun movie, or at least a tv show.

These stories had been with me through a lot of ups and downs in my life, the biggest being my parents’ divorce. They were there to remind me that even when times could be tough, you can make it through and still be able to laugh at even the silliest of things, no matter how old you got.

By the time I was 10, I got my hands on the latest book in the series, The Big Bad Battle of the Bionic Booger Boy Part 1. I loved it as always, but was shocked to see it ended on a cliffhanger. This had never happened before. I was anxious to see what would happen and how George and Harold would get out of this mess.

But… it would be some time before I got those answers.

Time went on, and my attention went to other things. I found new hyperfixations over the years, and while I didn’t have the 7th book at the time, I was eventually able to get answers thanks to the internet.

Eventually I entered middle school, and I found myself drawn to new book series that I grew to love, but Captain Underpants remained a big part of my childhood and some of its happiest memories. And for a while, I thought that was all it would be; memories to just fondly look back on.

But that all changed the winter of 2016.

It was the halfway point between Christmas and New Year’s, and I was gonna be 24 in less than a month. I was spending my downtime between holidays like any other bored 20-something year old; scrolling through Tumblr, of course. It was during that time that I stumbled across this post by @mondentertainment. It was photos of posters from a Licensing Expo, showcasing upcoming animated projects, be it films or series.

Among them were a few that sounded promising, others not so much.

But what caught my eye was this.

A poster from DreamWorks with a very familiar face on it.

I could barely believe what I was seeing, and from the comments and reblogs on the post, neither could a lot of other people.

It was like a door that had been long locked in the back of my brain finally burst open, and all those memories came flooding back, particularly of a reoccurring thought that ran through my young mind whenever I would look at those illustrations every time I turned the page.

Could it really be true? Was one of my favorite childhood books finally getting a chance to truly come to life on the big screen?

It had already happened once before after I read Coraline in middle school, so there might be a chance.

As you could probably imagine, I poured my thoughts of hope and excitement into the tags as I reblogged the post.

And when the trailer finally dropped three months later, it was like meeting that one childhood friend you never truly forgot all over again.

So much happened after seeing the movie on opening night, including meeting Dav Pilkey himself!

And all the great memories and friends I’ve made since rediscovering the fandom all lead back to that one moment on December 28th, 2016.

And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

#captain underpants #captain underpants the first epic movie #captain underpants: the first epic movie #personal #personal ramblings

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charlywrites · 2 years

Text

Requested by anon

Request; Hi! Can I request finding out you’re pregnant w/ Charles?

Warnings; pregnancy, a bit of anxiety, more of a blurb than an actual fic i’m sorry :(

Note; Sorry for the wait, I really procrastinated posting this one because I feel like it’s so underwhelming 😭

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Charles and you had grown up together, going to the same elementary school and high school, for most of your teenage years, you had a crush for him, hence why you never seriously got into a relationship- it’s only when he got into Formula One after winning the Formula Two Championship that you got together.

It didn’t change that much as you guys were practically already acting like a couple before making it official. Before being together, you’d already accompany him to most of his races as you were his number one supporter.

You were proud of how far he had come at still a fairly young age, he was handling the pressure quite well and you really admired him for that. He was still down to earth and an incredible boyfriend.

You had talked about what the future might hold for your couple and you had both agreed that you still had a lot of time before having kids or getting married- the two of you wanted that but in the future, not any time soon.

Yet, for the past few days, you had been feeling sick, nothing too bad but still having some symptoms, while you only suspected a cold or something like that, a friend of yours had suggested you to take a pregnancy test just in case.

At first, you completely shrugged it off, thinking that this couldn’t be the reason you were sick but after struggling with the same symptoms for days, you ended up buying two pregnancy tests to be completely sure of whatever results would show up on the stick.

To say the least, you were left speechless when you saw both of the tests showing the same result- pregnant. You stayed still, looking at the tests in shock for a couple of minutes, your mind completely blank until you realized you had to tell Charles as soon as you could.

Having to announce such a huge news was terrifying you, you weren’t even sure what you wanted to do, you just hoped that Charles would be as comprehensive as he had always been around you.

Calling Charles to tell him this felt inappropriate, it wasn’t something you could say on a random call- you needed to be in person, however Charles wasn’t coming home in the next days as he was in Maranello before he’d head to the next city for the Grand Prix.

You weren’t supposed to show up at the Ferrari Factory this week as you had work and plans with friends but it wasn’t as important as breaking the news to Charles, especially since he was probably already worried since he was aware you hadn’t been feeling too good the past few days.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Anxiously fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you were waiting for Charles to arrive as an employee of the factory had went to tell him he had someone to visit him.

When you saw him walk up to you, smiling ear to ear as soon as he noticed you were the visitor, you were greeted with a kiss and a tight embrace. As nice as his hugs were, it wasn’t enough to make you feel less anxious.

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here, baby?”

“ It wasn’t really planned in advance, but I have something very important to tell you.”

“ What is it? Is everything alright?” you could tell how worried he immediately got, the way his brows furrowed together, his worried tone, “ did something happen?”

“ Kind of? Oh my god- I don’t know how to say.”

“ Let’s sit down, yeah?” Charles motioned to the chairs that were installed only a couple of steps away, once you were all sat, he held your hands in his, “ whatever you have to say, it’s going to be okay, take your time.”

“ You know how I told you I was tired and feeling a bit sick last week? I didn’t know what it was but it wasn’t going away, so a friend suggested that I should do a pregnancy test in case it was that and turns out, I’m pregnant.”

You babbled the news out so quickly that you weren’t even sure Charles understood what you said, and when you were met with a silence, you weren’t sure if he was processing the news or just didn’t understand what you said.

“ You’re- I’m going to be a dad? We’re going to be parents?”

Hearing his words lifted such an heavy weight from your shoulders and suddenly, the knots in your stomach from the stress had disappeared, “ yes, if you’re ready to have a baby. I’d understand if you’re not- I’m not even sure that I’m ready.”

“ It’s unexpected for sure and I can’t say that I’m completely ready yet, but I’m thrilled to become a dad!”

“ I was so scared that you’d be upset over this news- I know the timing isn’t that great since you’re fighting for the title this year and-”

“ I would never get upset over this, love. You said you weren’t sure to be ready to have a child and I understand, I want you to know that whatever your final decision will be, I’ll support it.”

Nodding, you were reassured to hear this, it was comforting to know that your boyfriend would support your decision no matter what it would be, “ I feel like we’re so young and have so much time to have a family but at the same time, the baby’s already here and I know you’d be the best dad ever.”

“ We don’t have to take a decision right away, we can wait for a few days if you want.”

Smiling at your boyfriend, you shook your head as your right hand reached to caress his cheek, “ I feel like it can work out, it’ll be hard and I’m terrified but I want this baby with you.”

“ Then, we are going to be a family!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #scuderia ferrari #ferrari f1 #request

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sysmedsaresexist · 8 months

Note

hey, thank you for taking the time to put together that post about childhood emotional neglect. I have a hard time wrapping my head around CEN as something to be pathologized because from where I stand it seems so universal--not sure if I knew a single person growing up whose emotional needs were consistently met by their parents, including people whose families i would've cut off my pinky finger to join. is there any chance you'd be willing to give me some examples of what a parent-child dynamic *without* CEN looks like?

Oh god

Okay, I'm going to give this a fair try, long post ahead. Skip to end for the TL;dr and my suggestion

---

This is a true story.

When I was five, I started having anxiety and panic attacks. Severe ones. They mostly presented in my ability to breathe sort of... Hiccupping. I would suddenly become INCREDIBLY aware of my breathing, and it physically felt slower, harder. Trying to talk to my mom never resulted in anything happening or changing, and I had already learned to not talk to my dad.

Combined with clear anxious tendencies, Tourette's, and a budding, severe case of OCD, this culminated in the conclusion that at any moment, ever, I could stop breathing. I took to sitting in front of fans, so that air could be forced in my face, I developed tics of sounds in my throat to make sure I was still breathing. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't function, I was scared to leave the house.

My grandmother was babysitting one night and I had the worst attack yet. Six year old me crumbled into my grandmother's lap, telling her what I was experiencing and how scared I was, and like no one was listening to me. I needed to go to the hospital, I demanded.

Now.

---

From here on out, this is not a true story.

My grandmother held me tightly, appalled that my mother hadn't gotten me any kind of help yet. She whispered soothing reassurances into my hair as she rocked me, calling my mom home from bingo.

At the very least, a quick trip to the ER (free) could ease my fears that I stopped breathing every ten minutes, and for the next half hour, she showed me ways to keep my mind busy while we waited and the next two times an attack hit she held my hand and said just breathe through it. See? You're still breathing.

By the time my mom was home, I was calmer, I told them I was okay and could be brave, and I slept like the dead that night. I knew I could always trust my grandmother.

---

That would have been my ideal situation. If I ever have children, this is how I want to be able to treat them.

With respect, and as if what they say matters and is real. I want them to feel heard and appreciated.

Now, here's the catch.

No one is perfect.

Maintaining those levels of attention, on top of working and other children and whatever else might be going on in your life, can be extremely difficult. Generational neglect and abuse mean that most parents don't even realize what's messed up and what's not.

My ideal situation won't be everyone else's.

Eventually, I will hurt someone, unintentionally. I will be low on spoons, or don't know them well enough to react appropriately to something. Maybe they don't want or need "coddling", and my method will be harmful.

TL;dr

In a way, it's reasonable to expect that emotional neglect is simply a fact of life, and different people will handle the effects differently.

When emotional neglect occurs repeatedly over a long period of time, it begins to have an effect on attachment and child development. The things you're excited about are so consistently brushed off that you start to believe the insidious thoughts in your head as you try to rationalize why they don't seem to care.

Your parents tell you so many times that you're overreacting that you begin to believe it and start keeping things to yourself.

Instead of looking at examples, answer these questions about situations in your past:

1) Would I have done something differently if the roles were reversed?

2) Were my emotional needs met?

3) Did I feel heard? Understood? Believed?

4) Were they interested, and being an active listener?

5) Did I leave the conversation feeling safe, and as if continuing to talk to this person was safe? Did I leave knowing I could approach this person again?

6) Does this one person repeatedly make you feel negatively about yourself or your interests? Is it a trend with them in particular?

Emotional neglect comes in ten thousand flavours-- most unintentional, most one-offs. Many of these situations will be handled by YOU just fine. Some will have more of an effect than others.

But when you're young and it's repeated, you learn bad habits and start to have bad thoughts about yourself.

#emotional neglect #answered asks #mod dude

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mxtantrights · 11 months

Text

oh, to be in it with you

This is splices of a long work I had drafted up years ago. That being said I tried my best to make it more of a wordy one-shot than an ongoing thing because I just don't think I could return to this original idea, but if you like this then come into my inbox and request something for our Harry Osborn.

Harry Osborn x fem!reader, spidey!reader

PRE SNAP

Sighing, you picked up your phone to answer the call. It was always something with that boy. As soon as you took the call he was speaking. You thinks it's the rich boy complex.

"-ay I know I said I wanted an espresso but I take it back." Harry spoke.

"Oh yeah? What do you want now?" you asks.

"Just a regular black coffee." he says.

"Really?" you asked. But you knew already.

"I'll venmo you for the trouble."

"Please do." you ended the call.

You just earned herself four bucks. You knew he would change his mind. That's how Harry operates. And also he can't handle sugar after ten in the morning.

You carried the two regular coffees in the paper tray and exited the cafe. The trip to MoMA had been canceled due to the weird donut in the sky that appeared not too long ago. No it wasn't normal but the superheroes were on it. They always were.

So while everyone else went home, or wherever, Harry and you stayed together and headed over to the Osborn building. You two were gonna fool around with the lab equipment, maybe make 3d printed donuts. What else was there to do?

The cafe, was located right across the street from the building.

Harry was looking out the window when it began to happen. The scientists that were in the room with him started disappearing one by one. He didn't catch on until he saw it with his own eyes. What once was an employee was now dust.

You were waiting to cross the street when you heard her phone vibrating in your hand. It was under the coffee tray. You balanced it in one hand and looked at the screen.

Harry. You thinks that he just called, so surely he couldn't have changed his mind again. Maybe he just needs the coffee a bit more than he let on.

Weirdly you picked up the phone. "Harry I'm coming. Calm do-"

"Somethings wrong, everyone is disappearing."

"What ar-" you began to say as a man stepped up next to you, waiting to cross the street too. You looked over to see the man begin to crumble like crumb cake. The dark dust began to get swept up by the wind as you gasped.

"You have to get over here now." Harry pleaded with you on the other side of the line.

"i'm coming, meet me at the front door." you didn't hang up the call.

You dropped the coffees and looked up and down the street. The cars were stopping in the middle of it, people getting out. Dust was becoming everyone. Or everyone was becoming dust.

Carefully you ran across the street over to the building. Looking inside you could faintly see the familiar blonde boy approaching the front door. You began to run to it, to him, at that moment.

When you reached the door- he wasn't there. The faint trail of dust was all you could see. Your heart sank to your feet.

"Holy shi- Harry?!" you shouted to no one in particular.

Your hand grabbed the door handle but you couldn't feel it. You could see your hand begin to turn dark and begin to crumble. It didn't hurt as you fell to the concrete ground.

It wasn't long before it was your arms then you legs.

Then you.

POST SNAP

The sound of your name is want brings you back.

"Can you hear me? Wake up!" a voice says.

Your ears started to ring as you opened your eyes. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Harry was in front of you, looking panicked and anxious. You looked around and saw- not your world. This was someplace else.

A deserted waste land. Red dirt, yellow skies. Two suns.

"Harry where the hell are we?"

"I- I don't know. But there are other people here. I don't think we died. But this is- this is crazy."

"You think this is it?" you asked him, and he knew exactly what you meant.

In a world full of superheroes things were bound to go wrong. Dreadfully wrong. The attack on New York proved to everyone that nothing was out of limits. And now here we are. People turning to dust, waking up in a new world.

Harry shook his head. "No this can't be it. Theres no way- Tony Stark would never let this happen."

"What if it was out of his control? What if it's out of all of our control?"

After that Harry did he best to calm you. Which included getting you off the floor, compartmentalizing the current catastrophe, trying to joke about his awful dad. And it worked.

For a while. You needed to be alone with your thoughts for a while.

You were walking as your eyes became watery. Osborn was doing what he did best, assembling a group of smart minds to get to the bottom of the situation. Which included you, you was the first mind he thought of actually, but you needed to take a moment.

Your arms were wrapped around herself as you walked in the foreign place. It wasn't like they were in a parallel universe or something. There was just nothing here except the red ground beneath them. There were dried trees with no leaves like the place had only known death. And there were so many people.

You stopped after a while because you didn't want to get lost from Harry. So you stood underneath a tree, with your back pressed against the root. You thought that your body was actually vibrating from the fear. You held yourself even tighter.

There were no avengers here. No Tony Stark to save them. You think that something must've happened and it must've been bad. Yo wonders about your parents and whether or not they are here too or if they were back home?

"Ah!" you yelped.

Your hand reached the back of your neck where the sudden pain was. You couldn't feel anything but the back of your neck felt warm. You squinted her eyes and looked up at the tree branches above you but there was nothing.

So you looked down.

And there in the red dirt was a twitching spider. It didn't look real honestly. It was black but on it's back there was a neon blue and purple hour glass. Like it was a cartoon or something. You bent over to get a better look at it but then something happened.

It glitched out of sight. Like when water is poured over a computer and the screen malfunctions. Theres a quick flicker of static and colors. The spider didn't come back.

You reached for the back of your neck again and thought to yourself. You hoped that the spider wasn't poisonous. The whole thought of being infected by a spider just irked you so much that you decided to go back to where Harry was.

You walk over to where he's assembled a group.

He's talking to someone on the side when he sees you. He pats them on the shoulder and makes his way over to you.

"Hey, your head cleared enough?" he asked.

You nodded. "I just wonder where everyone else is."

Harry holds out his arm and you on instinct places yourself underneath it. He holds you close and rubs your arm. You know that it's in attempt to sooth you and you lets out a breath at the thought that you're with him during the midst of all of it.

"They're gonna save the day, they always do."

You reach up to feel your neck again.

FIVE YEARS LATER

It happened all at once. One minute you were dozing off in the middle of a conversation with Harry and then everything around you changed. You awakened with a headache. You couldn't forget the whole dust thing and as soon as you remembered you jolted up from your position.

You are on the floor. The floor of the Oscorp building.

A bunch of people are.

Harry.

You look around for him as you get to her feet. You couldn't help to see that the building looked different. The elevator that you used before was no replaced by a new one. The insides of the labs looked different.

"Harry! Harry!" you shouted.

It wasn't him that came up to greet you. Instead it was a woman- a woman with a familiar face- that grabbed onto your shoulders. Her expression sad, shocked, a range full of emotions.

"Oh my god it's you." she said and instantly latched onto you.

You grew confused at who the stranger was that was hugging you. You kept your arms at her sides and still looked for Harry. Until a whiff of perfume snuck up to your nose. The scent of Daisy by Marc Jacobs flooded your nose in an all too familiar way.

You know who wore that perfume?

Oscorp's resident lab engineer, Melanie Malone. Melanie who had been given the job straight out of college. The same Melanie who's hair was always slicked back into a puff.

You remove yourself from the woman's embrace to find that the likeliness isn't a coincidence. No.

Here is Melanie Malone. Standing in front of her. With dark circles under her eyes. And her hair grown out significantly. She didn't look like that same college girl who worked here. No she looked like a woman now.

"Melanie how long has it-" you began to ask but Melanie beat you to the punch.

"Five years." she answers.

Your whole body stilled at that. It wasn't long ago for you. It felt like a few hours. It felt like you had taken a nap. A weird nap in a weird place. But just a nap. How can it feel like that for you but for everyone else it's been five years?

Harry's voice cut through your thoughts. He's calling your name.

Your eyes moved franticly throughout the crowd that was forming in the lobby. You could see something moving towards you. Something fast. It didn't take long before you saw the long blonde hair.

Harry stopped when he reached you and Melanie. He stopped because he recognized Melanie- but not like this.

"They're saying it's been five years- that can't be true right? It didn't feel like that for me. It felt like a couple of hours or something. How can this be possible?" He couldn't stop himself from the fear induced rambling, or his hands from trembling.

You reached out to take his hands. "It was out of our control."

It happens when everyone is at the diner. Well, almost everyone. It's MJ, and Ned on one side. Harry and you on the other. Miles is in the bathroom. The bell to the front entrance rings out and you can see brown curls walking in. You know it's Peter.

But then the feeling happens. The tingle that shoots from your spine to your head. And you're staring right at him. He's staring right back at you. He stops in the middle of the doorway too. You look away and try to distract yourself.

You gulp down your dry throat, which Harry notices.

"You good honey?" he asks.

And yes you're used to him calling you pet names. It doesn't mean you doesn't blush when he does it. MJ, close to the window now, notices it all the time but she doesn't say anything.

You nods.

Peter slides in with Ned and MJ. And just as he does Miles is walking back and sliding in with you and Harry. No they didn't understand boundaries sometimes, and it shows.

"Finally Parker. Anyways, so what are the plans for this weekend?" Miles asks.

"You don't remember? We have our trip to Europe." Ned says, pointing to himself, Peter and MJ.

Harry and Miles sigh while you nod your head. You all go to different schools so it's really weird when one of you has to explain to your families how you met. You remembers having to tell your father the whole story and even he was confused.

You can feel Peter staring at you every few seconds or so.

"Oh wait I think I have a trip with my father coming up, oscorp business." Harry says.

Miles looks at you. "So it's just us'"

"You follow me around all the time anyways, nothin' new." you say.

Miles lightly shoves you and you shove him back. Then you remember your other plans for the night.

"I can't stay too late guys, I have to meet up with someone else later." you say.

Every head at the table turned. It's not because they all think you doesn't have friends. They know that you are the most friendly and kind person in their lives. However your social interactions are almost always limited to them.

Harry, Miles and MJ specifically.

"Is that so surprising? So mind boggling?" you say to the faces of surprise.

"Do you have a date or something?" MJ asks.

MJ thinks, fuck it. Now is a great time to get into the whole Harry and you situation. There probably would be a better time, but when has loved sat quietly in the corner and wait for the perfect moment? Never, she thinks. Besides she was actually thinking about her feelings for Peter, and possibly telling him on their school trip.

Your eyes widen a bit. "No! I'm just meeting a friend-we're hanging out? I think?"

Miles laughs. "How do you think? You don't know?"

"Hey hey, she's allowed to have friends besides us," Harry starts and you sends him a small smiles before he continues, "but let's be mindful that I can get you Starbucks everyday."

Everyone at the table laughs at that.

The first time you saw Harry's hands tremble you thought it was from the cold. So you did what any friend would do and took your own gloves off and handed them over. Of course, Harry wouldn't accept. Something about how the plaid pattern didn't match the 'vibes' from his coat. You rolled her eyes and shrugged your shoulders.

Harry never forgot that night. It was from then on he did his best to hide his condition even better. Especially from you, the girl he had fallen in love with several times over.

He tried his best, but you picked up on it from time to time.

There was the time at the coffee shop when he was holding his black Amex. When he had taken it back from the barista, you could see the card shaking in his hands. He let a small grunt escape from his lips before slipping it into his wallet.

You clapped his back softly before moving over to the pick-up station. Harry, with ray-bans attached to his face at that point, let out a sigh relief.

Another appearance was during a study session. The two of you had been going strong for two hours until Harry suddenly wanted to do anything else. Even though you both had exams coming up, he began moving around his own house. Like he had misplaced something that he needed desperately at that very moment.

The silence on your end was in part because you were watching him. And very subtly, his hands, out of your peripheral. You had been connecting the dots over some time now. How after you offered your gloves that one night, his shaking hands seemed to be a common occurrence. Or that one of them gets coffee for the both of them now. Or that he never hands you anything anymore.

You just laid out your textbook and notes on his coffee table and leaned back on his couch. With your head laid back, you asked if he wanted to order some take-out. His hand was shaking so much he couldn't take notes, you understood.

There was one time that he cannot hide it though. At the school dance- trivial, yeah he knows. He's pointing out that some kids are in the middle of spiking the punch bowl. And his finger is stretched out.

You takes one look at the kids before your eyes linger on his finger. His hand. His shaking hand. And you didn't have the words to speak about it with him, not when he worked so hard to deny it. You know that he doesn't have the words either. So you took his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Well, the gym floor.

Not in the middle. Just a ways off from where they were on the bleachers. He instantly places his hands on your hips. Your arms reach up and dangle off the end of his shoulders. Harry is looking off to the side with a bit of a smirk.

"Oh don't you say anything Osborn." you say.

He shrugs a bit and looks at you. The heels gave you bit of an advantage that night. Your face is close to his. Not enough that your noses touch. But enough that you could feel his breath warm your cheeks.

"I just think you're trynna woo me a bit. I mean I'm flattered, but it's unneeded. I already write about you in my diary." he said.

You laughed.

"Just the one?" she asked.

He smiled.

He pulled her closer to him. The two swayed to the music in the gym. And you swore that he thanked you. Under his breath. Below the bass of a Jason Maraz song. You didn't respond, only squeezed him a bit tighter.

(dirty) Harry

hey so I just got done with this seminar thing

wanna hang?

You snicker and type out a yes and asks for his location. Harry doesn't send it, he wants to know yours. After all he's got the driver. With a roll of your eyes, you drop your location. And you let him know that you'll wait in the bookstore.

Miles had something to do so the two of you wrapped up early.

You go inside and the bell rings. Harry lets you know his ETA while you browse the store. After starting down the comedy section that is displaying twilight, you make a turn. As soon as you does, Maya sees a woman at the end of the aisle.

Your phone buzzes.

would you hate me if I said something just came up?

You sigh. You're about to type a response when you hear someone clear their throat. You looks up from your phone and it's the same woman. Except now she's closer.

"Hi, can I just get," she points to the shelf, "in there?"

You move to the side quickly, "sure, sorry about that."

"Nice jacket by the way. You a fan?" she asks.

You look down. Your jacket has the spider emblem on it. It wasn't really your choice. More like MJ had snuck a pocca pen session on your jacket one time. your phone buzzes again but you turn the screen off.

"Yeah, well he's pretty cool." you say.

The lady smiles, "Yeah, but you're pretty cool too, aren't you?"

There are a million alarms ringing in your head. Maybe more. But the bookstore isn't loud. You could scream and someone will hear. You backtrack to the front of the store. Where was the cashier at the front register?

Your phone buzzes.

"Are you the only one in here with me?" you ask.

The woman nods.

"I don't want to scare you. I just wanted to offer you my card." she says.

She digs into her leather jacker pocket. Out comes a white card. Her hand extends out to you, who is weighting your options. Harry's earlier text buzzes your phone again.

You decide to take the card from her.

MARIA HILL

xxx-xxxx

When you look up she's gone. And you gets that feeling on the back of her neck. The one you hate feeling. It makes your gut turn and twist.

You stuff the card into your pocket and unlocks your phone.

(dirty) Harry

sorry. do you wanna hang out later?

hello??

You press on the phone icon. You pull your phone up to your ear and it starts ringing. He picks up in a few seconds.

"Hey I'm sorry, something really did come up. I didn't mean to bail on you."

"It's fine H, but I think I might have to raincheck you." you answer.

"Ouch."

"Aw, poor baby. You won't believe me but something just came up."

"Uh huh. Well whatever it is, isn't me. So it can't be as amazing." he jokes.

"You're right rich boy. Oh speaking of which when do you leave with your dad for that business trip thing?"

"A few days, after everyone goes on that Europe trip. Why?"

"I was wondering if we could fit in one of our old city trips?" you ask.

"You just want me to use my money to get you into the museum." he says.

"Ah, you know me so well." you laugh.

You tucks her phone into your pocket as Harry comes over with churro sticks. He hands one to you while he bits off a mouthful of his own. It makes you look at him in pure concern, because you know that he tends to talk with his mouth full. He calls it resisting the etiquette classes from his childhood.

"Please don't choke on that." you say.

He makes a face, which earns him a smack on the shoulder. Harry holds out his arm and you links it with your own. The two of you begin to walk down the block. It's fairly empty as it's 11am and everyone is either trying to get to work or already there.

When he finishes off chewing, Harry nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It makes you look up at him, which you often do. It's hard to not look at Harry, he's a pretty boy of course. But as one of a few people who have been up real close to his face, he has freckles. Very faint, but seeable.

"What are you and Miles gonna do with all this free time?" he asks.

You chuckle, "Miles was talking about hanging out with my dad. They've got that bond thing so."

"And you?"

"I'll probably read a book. Or two. And meet up with my friend." you answer.

"Is this friend hotter than me? I meant to ask when you first brought them up, but I figured I should hide my jealousy in front of our other friends." he jokes.

"Yes she is." you answer.

"Damn. I have some competition don't I?"

You nudge Harry this time as you both end up at the end of the block. At the corner, you two watch two adults with their fingers intertwined and swinging cross the street. You're the one who started looking at them, Harry was looking at you and then followed your line of sight.

The Osborn knows that one of these days he'll tell you how he feels about you. It wouldn't be a surprise or anything. He flirts with you all the time, and you flirt right back. Harry is just scared that at some point he'll have to share his other secret with you. He knows you knows and you just don't talk about it. But he knows.

So he does the next best thing.

He untangles your arm from his, which makes you look at him. With your focus on him he smiles.

"Can you hold this?" he asks.

You sees his hand formed into a fist and thinks he's talking about his change from the food cart. It wouldn't be the first time he's done this. He liked to make it a habit of letting you 'hold his change' and then he's at home and you're left with a couple of dollars. It's add up so much that you keep a jar at home specifically for him (that he doesn't know about).

You sigh and open your right hand to receive what you think is change.

Harry instead opens his fist and it's empty. He grabs your hand with his and interlocks their fingers. You look at your joined hands, up at him and then back at your hands. You fight back a smile and look dead ahead.

"If you wanted to hold my hand you should've asked."

"Thanks for indulging me anyways."

The music from the party blared throughout the apartment. It had to be a high school crossover. Uptown, downtown, midtown. A few kids from upstate and a few from across the turnpike. All packed into two levels of a brownstone.

Drinks were flowing and snacks were being passed around. At some point someone was handing out caprisuns and it felt like a kindergarten party. Especially when they started shotgunning them.

"Hell I even think someone from Staten Island is here." Harry shouts over the music.

You shake her head, "That doesn't really count."

You look at each other and share a quick laugh.

The two of you are at a party that only Harry was invited to. It was the night before he left for his trip with his father and he wanted to take the edge off. You knew that he just wanted to pretend for one night that he was normal. So you indulged him.

You thew on the most festive outfit you had in her closet and met Harry at his place. He had told you to stop doing that, that he could 'send' for you' but you had a thing about using his driver so that was a definite no.

Harry stood next to you the whole time. He hadn't known anyone personally, but they all seemed to know him. It was normal but it wasn't comfortable as he had put it once to you. Being famous for being the son of someone famous as kinda weird.

The arch that Harry was standing under should have been enough. All the earthquake tips say so. But this wasn't an earthquake. This was an evil man, with alien technology and a point to prove. No one was safe.

You call out, "Harry! Don't move!"

"If I don't move I'm toast!" he replies.

"Harry-" you begin.

Harry moves. From under the arch he runs to the center of the apartment. The floor has been proven unsteady the moment the fire had started. You weren't sure if it was because the fire had spread to the floor below or not.

He runs and your perception slows down. It's like someone hit slo-mo on life. And every little detail is for display. The creaking of the floor boards, wood splitting in half. The heat of the fire, the orange glow it has set upon the walls. Harry's eyelashes and his pulsing heartbeat.

It shouldn't happen. It shouldn't be possible. But nothing seems to be impossible anymore.

Iron man carrying a nuke through a wormhole. Thor, the actual God of Thunder. Sakovia. The Snap. Captain America on the moon.

You reach out- out of fear- to Harry. And his hand is no where near yours, neither is he. You're in one of the corners of the perished living room. He's barely reached the center of it. There should be no way.

But suddenly there is.

You can feel it all at once. It's the goosebumps on your arm. And the tingly feeling. The one you remember from childhood. You used to play with the static on the TV all the time. It was the exact same feeling.

Then his hand is in yours. You can feel it- him. He's shaking. You pull him in, encasing his body in your arms.

And you do it again. This time, outside of the building. To the safest place you can think of. The pier.

You let out a breath. Not once did you close your eyes. You were too scared to miss something. Harry did close his eyes though. They opened when he felt the cold breeze and smelt the ocean water.

"He calls out your name.

He pulls back from you a bit. You're still holding onto him, not letting go. Harry looks around in utter shock. The bench the two of you usually sit at. The street lamp that, by the grace of Loki, is still working after decades.

"Did I do it- I didn't think I could do it," you start and pulls yourself away from him, "Are you okay? You're not hurt right?"

You start to examine him. And he's somewhere in-between shocked silence and inappropriate laughing. You cup his face with both hands. He might've lost an eyelash and enhanced a couple of freckles from the flames, but he wasn't hurt. He wasn't hurt.

You exhale.

"You just teleported us out of a fire!" he said.

"I-I know. It's just- I told you not to move Harry! I told you it wasn't safe! Why didn't you listen to me?" you weren't really asking.

Harry takes in a deep breath, "You saved my life."

"I- I saved your life."

(dirty) harry

When I get back from this trip we have to talk about this

it's crazy and insane but we need to talk about it

and thank you again for saving my life

You sent back a message agreeing with Harry and wishing him a safe trip. Then you shut the phone off. Sleeping was going to be rough tonight. How did you save his life exactly? You can't put into words, it's inexplainable. But you could remember the feeling. The static, the fear and hopelessness.

And then you did something about it.

Is that what you were supposed to do now? Something bad happens and you do something about it?

You plug your phone into it's charger and rolled onto your back. Staring at the ceiling. It had been weird coming back and your home had been lived in by other people. You had a new room. All of your stuff was given away. There are people in New York that probably have a sweater you cared for dearly.

The one thing that remained the same was the ceiling. A week after being brought back you recreated the ceiling you used to have in your old room. Glow in the dark stars were your favorite thing growing up. And after the snap it made you feel like not too much had changed.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You look over at the illuminated screen. You can't tell who it is from this far. You reach out with your arm and grab it.

When your eyes see his contact name you sit up.

(dirty) harry

I'm at your front door.

"what?" you whisper.

Then it hits you. It's Harry. He's not going to let this go. He's not going to just wait for answers. And he means what he says so he is definitively at your front door.

You get out of bed and throw on a sweater. You open your door quietly as you can and tip-toe to the front door, trying not to wake your parents.

You slowly open the door and peak your head through. There he is. He hasn't even changed out of the clothes he was wearing at the party.

You slip outside and keep the door open a crack.

"Harry? What's going on?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "I don't know it feels like-I just have to say something. I can't just go to bed or go on this trip and not say this to you."

Harry stops for a moment.

You nod your head for him to go on. He lets out a strangled breath. And then you reach out and take his hands into yours.

"Tonight was scary. I mean the scariest feeling I've ever felt because I thought it was over. And not for me, but for you. And if you-if something ever happened to you I wouldn't know how to move on, I wouldn't move on. There is no living without you." he starts.

He raises both of your hands to his mouth and places chaste kisses on the back of your hands. You watch in shock as he does so. How his thumbs brush your knuckles. How close you two are now.

"I have been in love with you for so long it's so annoying. And I needed you to know after you saved my life tonight. I should've said something sooner but I'm saying it now and that's all I've got." he ends.

You forget how to speak. You actually forget the words you've known your whole life and how to use them. He's holding onto you and telling you he is in love with you. He's standing here in front of your house, telling you he's in love with you.

And it's the most Harry Osborn thing you can think of. That his mind was probably running a thousand miles per hour and he couldn't sleep, couldn't leave any of his thoughts for tomorrow. He had to say this now.

"Harry Osborn," you start,

and when you let go of his hands you see him visibly sigh. You hate the look of hurt that flashes across his face. But you know as your hands come up to cup both side of his face that what he's feeling won't last.

"I've been in love with you for a long time too." you say.

He smiles. He actually cracks a smile and then he's chuckling. All of a sudden there is no space between the two of you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. Your arms go around him as well.

And in the warmth of Harry Osborn's arms you're glad that spider bit you, so that you could save his life and he could come to your front door and tell you he's in love with you.

#marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fic #harry osborn x reader #harry Osborn fic #harry Osborn imagine #marvel

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xsweetcatastrophe · 1 month

Text

You Broke Me First

Part 11

Zoe spent the next hour fielding calls and texts from everyone she knew.

Cillian, on the other hand, sat next to her enjoying a cup of tea with the newspaper opened to the crossword puzzle.

Cillian and reminded her before she started answering anyone that she couldn't break and tell them the truth; she had to keep up the facade that they were. in fact, dating.

"Well.... that might be a problem" Zoe said, wairly. "I already told my sister"

Cillian rolled his eyes and sighed.

"But that's not fair. I tell Jen everything. And she won't say anything. She has mom brain. I promise. You don't get it, she's my sister.. just trust me" Zoe said defensively.

Cillian smiled. "I get it. I have a brother and two sisters. I tell my brother everything. It's fine... but just know that if it gets out, Hannah will have YOUR head, don't drag me down with you" he said, turning back to the puzzle.

Zoe's phone rang again. Zoe groaned. It was the fourth time she called, she had to pick it up this time.

"Hi, mom" Zoe said upon asnwering.

"Please tell me why I'm seeing your name all over the internet" Zoe's mom said.

"Depends.. are you reading one of my articles?" Zoe replied hopefully.

"Zoe Jane."

"Jeez, lighten up Ma" Zoe said.

"Why do I have to find out THIS WAY you're finally dating someone? Who is this man? Where did you meet him?"

shit.

"Where did I meet him?" Zoe said loudly, hoping to catch Cillian's attention. She completely forgot what the said agreement was. Cillian mouthed the word "Party" to her.

"It was a party a couple months ago" Zoe said, very monotone. Zoe then decided to make the bad decision to put her on speaker, so Cillian could hopefully help out faster with answering questions if she needed him.

"A party?"

"Yes"

"what were you wearing? How did you do your hair? I hope you left it down, I think your hair is so pretty and I hate when you tie it in that low bun you do" Zoe's mom went off.

Cillian looked up and raised his eyebrow.

"really mom?" Zoe said, staring off into space and rolling her eyes, sighing.

"I'm just saying, I've bought you such pretty sundresses and they're just collecting dust in the closet. You have such beautiful hair and you don't take care of it. I would kill for hair like yours, you have no idea how beautiful you could be-"

"Well I guess I wasn't that ugly since i left with him, didn't I?" Zoe snapped.

Cillian's eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot up, now biting his lip to hold back a laugh.

"Zoe Jane, that's inappropriate"

"Alright Ma, what are you calling me for? to find out details to gossip to your friends about, or to actually see how i'm doing? because I have things to do. Apparently a whole lot of hair to take care of and sundresses to dust off" Zoe said, wanting to wrap up the phone call.

"Of course I'm calling to see how you're doing! You think i'm so horrible. I just wanted to see who this man was and if I was ever going to meet him"

hopefully, never. Zoe thought

"Is he coming to the party?"

shit. the phone's on speakerphone. Zoe glanced at Cillian, who was now looking at her.

"I don't know. I gotta go. I'll keep you posted. love you" Zoe said, anxious to hang up.

"Love you bunny. tell this man-"

Zoe ended the call before her mom could finish. She dropped the phone on the counter and let out a sigh.

"Good thing you have a degree, your acting sucks" Cilian mumbed.

"Listen.. my mother is... she's a force to be wreckoned with" Zoe said, taking a sip of her now cold coffee.

"Very concerned with what you're wearing" Cillian replied.

"Oh, always. Beauty might be on the inside, but beauty on the outside reels them in" Zoe said, mocking her mom.

"What party was she talking about?"

"Just some stupid birthday party" Zoe said, mind racing trying to think of something to say to change the subject. "Are you stuck on one? I'm good at crosswords" Zoe came up with, pointing to the newspaper laid out in front of him. Cillian stared at her for a second, then looked down and furrowed his eyebrows together, almost forgetting there was a newspaper there in the first place. "oh.. uh, yea. 8 Down. 'Magician's expertise'. 8 letters. Thought it was vanishing or disappear but those don't fit"

Zoe thought for a second.

"Illusion. It's illusion"

**********************************************

Over the course of the next 2 weeks, Zoe and Cillian fell into somewhat a routine that worked for them. And, if we're being honest, Zoe was starting to look forward to seeing him.

Zoe had gone back to the office, but now people whispered about her as she walked past .People knew, and they thought it was real. More people were saying good morning to her than usual, and it seemed like people were generally more chatty with her. But she could still hear the whispers behind her.

Cillian came over at least 3 times a week, days always being different except Sundays - he always came over Sundays with dinner to watch the next episode of Succession. The other days, they would just hang out at her apartment, she would cook or they would go out to eat. Zoe was getting used to the cameras when they found them, and she began to feel a lot more comfortable around Cillian. It was like she was hanging out with one of her friends, where she could completely be herself and not worry about saying the wrong thing.

She learned Cillian and her had a lot of similar interests when it came to movies and TV shows. Cillian (politely) listened to her ramble off about her love for old architecture and old cemeteries, and her dream of owning an old house with old crown moldings and old gold doorknobs - don't get her started on antique doorknobs. Cillian tried to teach her about "good" music, and made her playlists and almost had a meltdown when she listed to the playlist he made for her on shuffle. "It's in that order FOR A REASON" Cillian had said.

They haven't, however, kissed since that night outside her apartment building.

Zoe spent many nights overthinking this. okay, we kissed that one night, and I'm convinced if our phones didn't ring an interrupt us we would of kissed that day at his house the article dropped.He makes time to make me playlists and listens to me and pretends to be interested in whatever i'm talking about. maybe deep DEEEEEEP down he likes me? and then reality would hit her that this is all one big lie and she would feel horrible about herself.

It was Sunday, and Zoe just let Cillian in. He kissed her on the cheek and said hello, and walked past her. That's... new. Zoe thought.

"I got that rigatoni bolognese you like. I got penne vodka for myself but we can switch if you want," Cillian said, putting the bags of food on her end table in front of the couch. "Wine tonight?" He asked.

"No wine for me. My head already hurts. I'm just having water" Zoe said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and heading to the couch with napkins an forks. She'd be lying if she said she was dressed lazy but didn't spritz herself with perfume and added some blush to her cheeks before he got there.

"Aw man, really? If you want to go to sleep, I can leave the food and go-" Cillian started to say.

"what? no way! I'm fine. I just took an excedrin. I'll be good. And it's the season finale tonight, we're not missing that for anything!" Zoe said, plopping down on the couch and grabbing one of the pasta containers.

Cillian laughed and sat down next to her. "Okay good"

Zoe and Cillian opened the containers and alternated between the both of them, sharing the food. It was a comfortable routine that they fell into, and Zoe hoped he enjoyed it as much as she did.

Zoe leaned back into the couch and picked her feet up and curled them under her. Cillian leaned back as well, placing his arm on the couch behind her. That's new too... Zoe thought. Her heart started racing.

"Kendall's such a little bitch" Cillian said, sighing.

"That's what happens when you try to live up to your father's expectations I guess" Zoe said.

"If I did what my father wanted me to do, I'd be a lawyer" Cillian said, half laughing. "What about you?"

Zoe froze. Her dad will always be a sore subject.

"I AM doing what he wanted me to do, but I guess he never got to see it" Zoe said.

"He's proud." Cillian said confidently.

"How would you know that?" Zoe said. "You saw one picture of him and it was of his back"

"Why wouldn't he be? Why wouldn't anyone be?" Cillian said, calmly. "I know I'm proud of you"

"Stop" Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm serious. How you're handing all of this, how you acted during our interview, you kept it professional yet it felt like I was talking to a longtime friend. I've done a lot of interviews and yours will always stick out"

"Gee, I wonder why" Zoe shot back, hand gesturing between the two of them.

"No, not because of this. If that would of never happened I still would of remembered you" Cillian said, looking at her. "Going home with you was just a nice bonus"

"I think you're just being nice" Zoe said

"I think you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You're an amazing girl, Zoe. and you deserve to know." Cillian said as his arm dropped from the couch to her, thumb rubbing soft circled on her shoulder.

Zoe was silent.

"Do you ever think about that night?" Cillian said, quietly.

"I would, but honestly I don't remember much" Zoe replied, just as softly.

"Me too. I remember laughing with you. Something I haven't done in a long time. I remember you hugging me, your hand rubbing my back and your face in my neck. I wished I remembered more..." Cillian said, shifting his body towards her.

Zoe weighed her options. On one hand, there was a part of her that was frozen there. Don't make a move, let him do everything. That's the part she normally listened to.

The other part, the devil on her shoulder, told her to grab him and kiss him.

Nothing was normal about this situation. Nothing at all.

Devil it is.

Zoe took a deep breath, turned her body towards him, put her hands on his face and kissed him. She could tell he was shocked, but began to kiss her back almost immediately. His hands rubbed up and down her arms, moving to her waist to pull her closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck and depened the kiss.

Okay, this is good. I should make the first move more often. Zoe thought.

The kiss began more intense, and she slowly pulled him towards her as she laid back, pulling him to lay on top of her. They finally broke the kiss, foreheads still pressed together, heavy breathing just staring at each other.

"you're so pretty Zoe" Cillian whispered, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

Zoe could get used to 3 more months of this.

Zoe smiled and pulled him in for another kiss, only to be interrupted by the phone ringing.

They both shot a look at the phone on the table, lit up with the words SISTER flashing across the screen.

Cillian sat up, smoothing back his short hair.

"I don't have to answer..." Zoe said, still laying down, hoping he'd get the hint and resume his position.

Cillian smiled. "Answer it, it's fine" He said. He cleared his throat and started bringing the food containers into the kitchen.

Ok, that's... weird. Zoe thought.

By now, the phone stopped ringing. about 15 seconds later, a text message came up on the screen.

"Soph wanted to say goodnight. and I hoped you booked your plane ticket!!"

Jen had accompanied the text with a picture of Sophie in her pajamas.

"Hey uh, I better get going" Cillian said, putting his shoes on.

"Wait.. what? why?" Zoe said, confused. "Succession isn't even over yet"

"I know, I'm just... really tired. I'll see you this week, ok?" Cillian said, stepping towards her, as if he was about to kiss her. He stopped, hesitated, then just reached out to squeeze her arm. He opened the front door and left without another word.

Zoe stood there, in the middle of the living room, all hot and bothered and confused and angry and hurt and embarrassed. She was so sick of being walked all over like this. So tired of mixed signals, tip-toeing around, walking on egg shells with people. What happened tonight was just like what happened at the bar one of the first times her and Cillian hung out. it's like Jekyll and Hyde, and he does a 180 in an instant.

She doesn't know where it came from, but something inside of her said she had enough. All those years of getting walked over, are done. It's time she took control and let people know how she felt. She wouldn't be walked all over again. "Fuck you" she yelled at the front door, as if he was still standing there.

She turned to the TV. "You're not the only one acting like a little bitch tonight, Kendall"

tags: @lau219 @wolfieellsworld

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader

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