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#and Going Out Hurts Me And I Will Need A Full Day To Recover Every Time so
cahootings · 6 months
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anyway to continue my brand of being an annoying person generally im blasting Christmas music on November 1 but I truly feel like I missed all of October this year. Where did it go. I was inside. The trees outside my window just started turning but yesterday they had an inch of snow on them. The seasons went and changed without me ☹️
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luveline · 7 days
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Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3
i love u!! fem!reader, 1k
You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 
“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 
Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 
“No,” you force out in a mumble. 
“Are you sure?” 
It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 
“I might be,” you decide. 
Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 
“Do you?” you ask. 
“What?” 
“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 
“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 
“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 
He glares for show. “So serious.” 
“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 
Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 
You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 
Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 
“Makes you sad?”
He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 
You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 
You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 
“How do you feel?” he asks. 
“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 
“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 
“I’m fine.” 
He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 
“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 
“I’ll be okay soon.” 
“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 
You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 
“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 
“I know.” 
Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 
He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 
He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 
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punkshort · 30 days
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i know who you are | 5. the dinner
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)
WC: 9.5K
Series Masterlist
By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.
One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.
When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.
It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.
"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"
"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."
Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."
"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.
"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.
"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."
He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.
"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.
"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.
"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.
"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.
"Who are the Fireflies?"
His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.
"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.
"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.
Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.
"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"
You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.
It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.
"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.
"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.
"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.
"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."
You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.
"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.
"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."
"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"
He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."
"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"
Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."
"Did you join them, too?" you asked.
"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.
"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"
His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."
You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"
Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.
"No."
And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.
"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"
"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."
Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"
"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."
"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.
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"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."
You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.
"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.
"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.
"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.
"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.
"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."
The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.
"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"
You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.
"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.
"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"
"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"
She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.
"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.
"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.
"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.
He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.
"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.
"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.
"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.
"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.
"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.
"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."
Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.
"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.
"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"
"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.
You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.
"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.
"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."
You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.
"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.
"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.
"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.
"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."
You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."
Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"
You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."
She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.
"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."
Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.
Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.
"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.
"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."
She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."
You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.
Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.
"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.
"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.
"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.
"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."
"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.
"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.
"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.
"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.
You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.
If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.
Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.
When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.
It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.
In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.
The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.
"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.
"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.
"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.
"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."
"No, it's okay-"
"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.
Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.
When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"
The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.
"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.
"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.
"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.
"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.
"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.
"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.
"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?
You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?
He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.
You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.
You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"
"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.
The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.
"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"
"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.
You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.
"Where are you going?"
"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.
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What an absolute fucking idiot he was.
What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?
You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?
No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.
His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.
He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.
"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.
Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.
"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.
"Angie."
She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.
"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.
"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.
She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.
His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.
"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
"Don't call me that."
Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."
"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.
She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.
"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.
"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.
"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.
He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.
It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.
Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.
"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.
"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.
"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.
"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.
He had to get home.
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The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.
When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.
"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.
"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."
He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.
"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.
"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."
"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.
"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.
He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."
His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.
"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.
"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.
"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"
"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"
"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.
"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.
"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"
His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.
He was losing you.
"Please, lemme just explain-"
"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"
"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"
"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"
"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"
You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.
"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."
"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.
"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.
"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.
"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.
"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.
"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"
You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.
He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.
"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.
"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"
You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.
"The hell does that even mean?"
You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"
"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.
"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.
"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.
"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.
"You can't."
His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.
"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."
You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.
"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.
"Then tell me what you lied about."
His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.
You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.
"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.
He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.
"Okay."
The shock made your tears slow to a stop.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."
I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.
"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.
"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.
"Yes."
"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."
"Research? I don't know anything about-"
"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.
"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?
"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."
You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.
"Ellie's immune."
Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.
"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."
You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.
"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."
Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.
"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"
You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.
"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."
"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."
You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.
"Me?" you squeaked.
"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.
"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."
You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.
"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.
"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.
"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.
He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.
"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."
"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.
"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"
"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.
"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."
"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.
"After I fell in love with you."
You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?
"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.
"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.
"You spared my life just to break my heart."
He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"
"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."
He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"
You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.
Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.
"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.
So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.
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A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘
930 notes · View notes
satansdarlin · 10 months
Note
can i request headcanons for the monster trio plus ace with a Fem!reader on her period?
Sure! Some of these are based off of personal experience of what my boyfriend does for me
Period headcanons (monster trio, plus ace)
Warnings: talk of blood (obv), slightly suggestive in ace's part.
Masterlist
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Luffy
Man does not get it at first. Straight up thought you were dying.
But after some explanation from Robin, you, and Nami beating him, he finally gets it.
Still doesn't understand it in full but gets the most part
This man is now glued to you hip, even going as far as to deny playing games with usopp and chopper.
He kinda treats it like you are recovering from a injury
So obviously you need help with everything in his mind
Taking a bath? Now luffy has to sit in the bathroom and make sure you don't hurt yourself
Hungry? Omg so is he!
You wanna lay in bed all day? He's gonna cuddle you for most of it
Once he discovered the chocolate thing he made sure you had what kind you wanted.
In short luffy is the kind of boyfriend to constantly be beside you during your period if he can help it.
"Y/N can bleed for days and still be able to work! She's so cool right?!"
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Sanji
Ngl man has been prepared for this day
He knows your cycle better than you do man
Like he is prepared with extra blankets
Red meats to help you recover the iron you loose
Mentally prepared for any mood swings you might have
And has stocked up on a stash of snacks just for you during this time
While he is the most attentive and loving during this he is also the absolute worst in the best way possible
He's just trying to be helpful and you know that
But he is also making you eat liver and kidneys because you need the protein and iron
Also the type to just straight up scream at anyone who bothers you during this
You are his baby. Gotta keep you safe and happy especially when you are aching
"Come on, sugar. Eat the kidneys it's good for you- LUFFY DONT YOU DARE EAT THAT"
"But she doesn't want it"
"Shut up stupid. Come on now honey eat the food I even have some chocolate chip cookies waiting after you finish this"
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Zoro
Unbothered king
Straight up just doesn't care about bloody sheets or mood swings
He kinda thought you had a wound at first that you had hidden from him and freaked the fuck out
But after some explanation and him examining you just to be sure, he understood.
Makes you drink water the whole time
Does not care if you complain about being bloated. you are drinking those eight glasses a day
Naps with you during your sleepytimes
Will hold his hand on your stomach to apply pressure when you ask
But will also make jokes about you being his ketchup packet
Will go shopping for your tampons, pads, period cups. Doesn't know what any of them are so he asks Nami and robin for help
Comes back with something from every brand he could find and is now deeper in debt to Nami
Also straight up growled at someone when he could see they were annoying you???
He is now your social shield. Will tell someone where they can shove it if they don't fuck off and let you rest.
"607...608...609....610- oh. Nap time already? Alright alright I'm coming woman- did you just call me your cuddle bear? No I'm not blushing shut up"
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Ace
Ahem. Ace? More like living heating pad.
More than happy to hold you the whole time
Nice and cozy against those warm man titties 🤌
Anyway. He is absolutely one of the best about things
Completely indifferent if you snap at him. Understands that you are just easily frustrated and also sympathizes with you cause he can't imagine feeling like he wasn't in control of his own emotions
Nap time? Great! He sleeps more than you.. actually he might have a iron deficiency now that I think about it
Warm hands on belly at all times
Will knead at your belly to help soothe out any cramps
None of these men care about blood. It's just the pirate way.
Has his red wings. You know what I mean ;)
"Here, lemme warm you up. Sh sh don't cry, you aren't bothering me at all baby"
882 notes · View notes
lillithhearts · 3 months
Note
I don’t know if you mind writing WlW, BUT IF YOU DO!!! I WANT GENSHIN WOMEN HELPING WITH THEIR SO INJURIES- ESPECIALLY WITH RAIDEN CAUSE I THINK SHE BE SO CONFUSED AND CONCERNED AT THE SAME TIME
*wheeze*
Ok sorry for the freak out- I’m just incredibly gay
I'm deflating after picking two women from every nation😩
Warnings: Talk of injury, not Proofread, Candace and Dehya might be ooc
THESE ARE SO WLW‼️
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❄️ Scolds you at first and acts more like a superior then your girlfriend at first
❄️ after offering to clean it she softens up, asking how this happened and asking if this was caused by a fight and if there's something she needs to "handle"
❄️ Secretly worried, with the right words you might be able to get her to tell you that aswell.
❄️ tells you to be careful next time because she won't help if it happens again (she'll help if it happens again)
❄️ sends you off with a kiss and goes on about her day, she continues to quietly worry
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🍷 more reactive and worried then you'd thought especially if it's a bigger injury
🍷 dead silent aside from the occasional hiss from you
🍷 Like Eula, she asks afterwards if there's someone messing with you and she'll handle it if there is
🍷 tells you on the side afterwards to watch out more often so this doesn't happen again because she doesn't want her lovely girlfriend hurt.
🍷 depending on the day she might hold you for a bit and even MAYBE tell you some sweet nothings
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🥂 jumps up and is quite dramatic, she's a captain she can tell if you're in serious danger with your injury
🥂 quickly cleans the wound and treats it then proceeds to baby you
🥂 "youre never going out without me or Kazuha ever never"
🥂 she'll pout out at you, you're capable how dare you get hurt and worry her she already has her other crew idiots to watch over
🥂 smoothers your face in kisses and compliments you
🥂 tries to subtly get info if it's a natural injury or if it was caused by someone else
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🎲 acts nonchalant about it but if you're able to read people well you'll see she's scared shitless
🎲 she's lost so many people she can't bear to lose her sweetheart
🎲 questions you on what happened and gets you maybe something to eat and some water, a full check on you
🎲 puts her coat on you and coos at you after the injury is taken care of
🎲 you're not allowed to move or do anything extreme for a week
🎲 "but it's just a scrape" "Too bad, lay down"
🎲 you'll see her gently smile at you while you eat or read something while you recover
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⚡ she doesn't quite understand the idea of blood, or injury; she's a god most of her injuries don't last long unless it ends her shortly after
⚡ "what do you mean it can get infected and kill you?"
⚡ goes to a vendor to get you some food after trying to make it herself and failing miserably
⚡ you insist to treat it yourself because she was too rough when she tried to which she just frog blinked at you before shrugging and sitting back
⚡ doesn't quite know what happened but she's asking if you're alright even like, a day later
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🌸 gets all done up worried, throwing her hands in the air and petting your head while doting on you
🌸 if she notices it's serious or you're not in the mood she'll quickly back up and ask you to sit down, asking the other maidens to fetch some things for you
🌸 has you in her arms till the maidens get back and then she gets to treating it, asking how this happened with a giggle in her voice
🌸 JUST maybe if you're alone she'll go into her fox form and lay on your lap to comfort you
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🔥momma mode immediately
🔥"how'd this happen, when, by what, by who? How much does it hurt? Are you numb"
🔥 you get whiplash from the amount of questions she asks you, kinda confused she takes it that you're like, about to actually die
🔥 you have to calm her down and starts gradually answering the questions while she orders the eremites to get you the things you need
🔥 has you in her arms also, telling you how worried she was and she's glad you're okay
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🌕 immediately jumps to your aid asking whats the matter
🌕she scolds you for not being careful, but you jokingly huff, clearly hearing the worry laced in her voice as she stands infront of you
🌕 gives the bandage a little kiss and you both laugh
🌕 her two colored eyes continue to scan you and your mood for the rest of the day or even next few days, monitoring your condition closely
🌕 pouts at you while holding you, denying that she was worried in the first place, reassuring you, you can handle yourself
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🗡️ quietly tells you off for getting hurt but calming down and apologizing after, a soft smile on her lips as you tell her it's okay and you understand
🗡️ unless it's a severe injury she's not worried, you're strong you can handle a simple scrape. She will still disinfect it and wrap it you sit down
🗡️ escorts you around for a bit, especially if it's a leg related injury or an injury that impairs your walking
🗡️ holds your hand almost the entire time minus when she's using both hands to treat it for you
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🌹 On the verge of losing her mind
🌹 also lost alot of people close to her and is very worried
🌹has her body guards help you while she questions you, she is asking you the most random and not needed questions
🌹you kinda just sit there wondering why this is so important
🌹 makes you macaroons to make you feel better and tells you about her day to distract you from the pain if there is any
🌹 leans against you and just, enjoys your presence for a while. Her days are stressful and she loves doing what she does but you're her safe quiet space
🌹 plenty of kisses to your face and hands
AHHH idk how I feel about this :((
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Note
AITA for slapping my mother in law?
I (27F) am married to my husband Jay (26M) and we recently had our first child Lily.
Well the pregnancy was a very very difficult one. I was throwing up every day for over six months, suffered long bouts of insomnia, developed gestational diabetes, standing up too fast made me incredibly dizzy, my entire body just constantly hurt, Lily kicked me so hard I legit had tears in my eyes (which combined with full body pain was...not pleasant) and to top it all off Lily weighed ELEVEN pounds and I tore really really badly.
Yeah...ow.
I love my daughter to death but never again. Ever.
Anyways after that literal hell of a pregnancy, I've been more or less bedbound for several weeks now while healing from that entire ordeal. Which means Jay has been taking care of pretty much everything, keeping the house clean, making food, taking care of me and Lily, etc. Its a lot I know and I wish I could do more to help but Jay has been insisting that I rest and recover and that he's got this. He's been handling everything like an absolute champ. Honestly if I didnt have him I dont know how I would be doing anything.
Well this morning Jay's parents came to visit and meet their granddaughter. So I was moved to the living room so I could introduce them to Lily and socialize a bit while Jay cooked lunch.
Now Jay's parents are very traditional. They believe that men make the money and that its the woman's job to take care of the house, the cooking, and the children.
You can probably see where this is going.
I introduce Mother in law to Lily and we get to talking. (Father in law went outside to go smoke)
Thats when mother in law asks why Jay is cooking. More importantly why Im NOT cooking. I tell her I physically cant even stand UP without help so how am I supposed to cook.
She only scoffed saying that I was just making excuses. I am very used to her bullshit by now so I just roll my eyes.
Then Lily started crying because she needed a diaper change. Mother in law tells me to go change her diaper. Again I cant even stand up by myself, much less get up to change a diaper.
I call Jay and he happily comes to get our daughter. Mother in law starts yelling, telling Jay no that I should do it because its my job. She grabs Lily and shoves her back into my arms and tells me to get up and go do it.
Jay, my wonderful angel, tried to tell her that I physically couldnt move for weeks and to mind her own damn business.
She then started yelling even more saying that I was making my husband do my job for me, calling me lazy and a slut (What that has anything to do with this? I have no idea) she went off on a complete tangent about how it was a woman's job to take care of the home and the children, that SHE managed just fine and she had five small children, that I was completely emasculating Jay, that I was a disgrace, etc.
She just kept going and going while not letting me and Jay even get a word in. Until eventually she said that my daughter will probably grow up to be a whore like I am.
I think it was a mix of pure exhaustion and hormones because somehow I managed to stand up for a moment and slap her across the face before immediately falling back on the couch.
Jay looked shocked, Mother in law looked livid. (Father in law was just watching from the doorway, equally as shocked.)
Mother in law started full on screaming, calling me every single name in the book until father in law physically dragged her out of the house by her arm.
Now hours later my phone has been blowing up with messages from my brothers and sister in laws, telling me that I was an asshole and that I had no excuse for hitting their mother.
Hell even my friends think I was in the wrong for hitting her (completely ignoring how she was yelling, calling me horrible names, in front of a newborn baby no less.)
So AITA?
What are these acronyms?
352 notes · View notes
phfenomena · 4 months
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❝soon you’ll get better. ❞ william h. bonney x f!reader
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| A/N- just imagine billy taking care of you when you’re sick <33 he’d be so sweet i’ll literally cry
| WARNINGS- sickness, talk of death,
william h. bonney x reader fluff
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your throat burned when you attempted a deep breath, and your nose felt like you were breathing through a wall. your body temperature was too hot but you felt entirely contrary to that. as you lay shivering and complaining in your mind of the pure unbridled annoyance you feel that out of all people you got sick.
billy had stepped out almost an hour ago saying he needed to grab some more things for you, but you couldn’t care less about what he thought you needed. you just needed him.
he comes in clumsily setting each bag and box of food you apparently needed. you slightly smile at the sound of things falling and his boots quickly moving around the wooden floor. you hear boxes and cans opening, and him swearing after he touches the boiling pot on accident.
you laid there on your side phasing in and out of consciousness as you wait for billy to be done with whatever he thought was important. you hear his boots approaching you and you lift your head up. he squats next to the bed and shows you his creation.
“it’s a potato and carrot soup, my ma used to make it when i got sick as a young’n. it’s like magic, just helps you recover real quick. the doctor said you’ve got a common cold, and i’d like to keep it common.” he brushes hair out of her eyes and sets his hand on your head. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, darling. sickness has taken away everyone from me and i won’t let it take you too. i’d go to the ends of the earth if there was an instant cure.” his eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed. he laid a gentle kiss against your forehead.
you began to slowly sit up and let billy feed you small spoonfuls of the ‘magic’ soup. his gaze never leaving your face and his eyebrows never relaxing. you begin to feel guilty because he was doing something important, he wanted you to get better so he made you soup. a true gentleman. you thought.
“thank you, it’s really good.” you manage to croak out before he shushes you and comfortingly rubs his hand over your back. “save your voice, angel. it’s not good to be talkin’ in your condition.” you nod and continue eating the soup when his hand offers it.
“i ran into jesse when i was at the store, he said this colds been a real problem lately. most of the towns got it but it hasn’t taken anyone away yet, and you’re the strongest person here so i’m sure you’ll be alright, doll.” he sounded like he was comforting himself more than you but nevertheless you still nod and offer a small smile to him.
the next morning after a restless night full of billy holding you close, not caring if he got sick, you open your eyes and momentarily forget you were even sick the previous day. feeling alert and not freezing, you sat up and stretched. billy instantly following suit and eyeing you over. “how you feeling, angel?” his worried gaze studying every bit of you. “i feel fine, billy. stop worrying so much. stress isn’t good for you.” you quietly say, not used to talking, as you rub your thumbs over his furrowed eyebrows smoothing them out.
he chuckles and you’ve never been happier to see his smile. “cant help it when it comes to you, and i did tell you the soup was magic, did i not?” he says quickly forgetting the tender moment and instantly wanting his gratification. you narrow your eyes and look unamused. “yes billy. you did. i’ll have to make it for you the next time you get sick, you don’t get sick very often but i’ll have it on stand by.”
you come inside after wiping your boots off and heaving heavily from the heat. you were outside picking weeds and planting carrots and potatoes in the garden from the soup leftovers. there billy lay on the bed, groaning.
“i’m so damn cold and my head hurts. what’s wrong with my throat it feels so itchy.” he complains in an almost whining tone. you laugh as you approach him and press the back of your hand to his forehead.
“well, cowboy. you’re sick. seems you’ve contracted that common cold you talked about, get under the blankets and i’ll make the soup.” he dramatically turns over and looks at you with a grumpy facial expression. “this is your fault.” you hum and pat his head before stepping into the kitchen, laughing at how dramatic he is.
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zepskies · 11 months
Text
Break Me Down - Part 8
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful feedback on the last chapter! It made my week. 🥰 I truly thrive on hearing back from all of you — it gives me the fuel I need to finish this story!
(And it's rapidly becoming a beast lol.)
Word Count: 6,000 Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mentions of past domestic abuse/trauma, PTSD, hurt/comfort, fluff, and a (small) cliffhanger.  
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Part 8: Something In the Way…
It was three more rounds before he finally let you sleep. 
Or rather, you couldn’t help but drift off. Ben had said he would help you sleep, and in his words, a promise is a fucking promise.
After you’d scarcely recovered from the first round, he’d taken you from behind in your bed. You’d repaid the favor by dropping to your knees for him in the shower, after which he’d propped you up against the bathroom counter and ate you out with his talented tongue until you really did see fucking stars. 
But he’d gotten what he wanted; your voice reverberated his name off the bathroom walls with superior acoustics…  
And when you next woke up, to your surprise, Ben was still there. He was sitting up against the headboard and watching a nearly silent TV while he smoked a blunt.
“What time is it?” you muttered. 
“Around 6 a.m.,” he replied.
For God’s sake. He had to be tired by now. 
You rubbed at your bleary eyes and turned onto your side. For a moment, you just stared at his profile, wondering what the hell you were going to do if Butcher and the rest of your team actually found you. 
“Go back to sleep,” Ben said. He glanced over at you after blowing some smoke. A smirk started to curve his lips. “Thought you’d be knocked out until noon.” 
You too, if you were honest. Your insides felt like warm jelly. 
“What keeps you up if even last night can’t tire you out?” you asked. Ben didn’t answer you. He faced the TV again and took a long drag of his blunt.
Slowly you sat up, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, in your legs, arms, and between your thighs. Your entire body felt like a bag of stones, but it was a good ache. A thoroughly sated one.
You managed to sit up next to him and reach over to lay a tentative hand on his chest. It was warm, even with the ceiling fan and AC on full blast above you. He briefly looked down at your hand, then at your face. 
“What’s it really like?” you asked, before your inner filter could catch up with your brain. “The new power the Russians gave you.”
His expression changed from relaxed to tightening around the edges. 
“They didn’t give me anything,” he said, puffing away. 
You read between the lines of that statement, surprised that he was even that honest about what he went through in Siberia.
They carved it into him, you realized. Like a wound he couldn’t heal from. Without wanting to, you remembered the CIA files you’d studied about his imprisonment. 
“Did it hurt?” you asked, moving your hand down to the center of his chest. The corner of Ben’s mouth twitched humorlessly. 
“Nothing fucking hurts me,” he said. His voice was flat, and matter-of-fact. But he didn’t even look at you. 
Maybe he didn’t want you to catch the lie in his eyes. But as curious as you were, you didn’t want to push too hard. Not for the first time since you got here, you realized that you weren’t really sure what you were doing. 
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During the day, the two of you had your own lives. You swam in the pool, trained yourself in the gym, and read in the garden. You played cards with Loco and Saul when they had time for a break (from whatever it was Soldier Boy had them doing). 
And over dinner one evening, Frank even told you that his daughter was fifteen going on sixteen, and sweet as pie, but she could get an attitude real quick.
“You remind me of her sometimes,” Frank remarked.
You scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Frank’s answer was merely a wry raise of his brow. 
You just rolled your eyes and carved into your steak. Simone’s cooking was in rare form tonight.
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And at night, Ben invaded your room like it was his own.
You couldn’t help but let him in, and into your bed. You were frankly surprised that he hadn’t gotten bored of you now that he’d gotten what he wanted. 
But apparently, he felt the same way as you…that one taste was just not enough. 
Like now, while the radio played on the nightstand. And he had you naked and writhing beneath him on the bed. 
One of his hands rested below your ribs, holding you down while his head was caged between your thighs. Your knees were squeezing his head like a grape, but of course, all he felt was encouraged.
Your moans were getting higher, more keening as his tongue worked inside your hot core. Meanwhile, his thumb circled and pressed at your clit relentlessly.  
Your grip threatened to pull out a chunk of his hair, your leg wrapping tighter around his neck. “Ben…goddamn it…”
“A little busy right now, sweetheart,” he teased, taking a beat to nip hard at the inside of your thigh. It had you bucking against his chin with a gasp. His gaze raised up to yours, dark and filled with desire between your legs. Sweaty locks of his brown hair were falling over his brow. 
Though you were panting for breath, you managed to sweep his hair away from his dewy forehead. His eyes traced the path of your hand, but he stared back up at you again. 
“Tell me what you want while I’m still feeling generous,” he demanded. Two of his fingers found their way into your entrance, a placeholder for his mouth. “I’ll fucking finish you just like this, have you coming apart on my tongue—”
You were surprised he was giving you a choice at first. But you saw his intentions in his eyes—he wanted to fill you up regardless. His dick was straining hard against your thigh, and your core was pulsing with need anyway.
“Want you inside me,” you panted, though not without a cheeky smile of your own. “Almost as much as you wanna be in me.”
Ben smirked and wiped at his mouth and chin. “Yeah, fucking right. You know how hard you’re squeezing my goddamn fingers right now?”
He twisted said fingers inside you, making you utter a strangled sound. His smirk deepened, but he withdrew them just long enough to line himself into your entrance and slide right in, with little resistance as he bottomed out.
You clung to his shoulders as you shuddered at being entirely filled to the brim. You still weren’t used to that feeling—of being consumed from the inside out. 
“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, “so fucking tight.” 
You squeezed around his hips with your legs, digging your heels into his ass. Your hold was desperate, but Ben just braced himself above you.
“For god’s sake,” you blurted. “What’re you waiting for?”
Even he was breathing harder now, maybe more from restraint than exertion. His smirk was devilish though. “What’s the magic word, baby doll?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 
Ben rocked against you a little, but not enough to give you what you wanted. Just enough to drive you insane. On some level, you had to admire his restraint.
“Fucking say it,” he said, his gaze firming. “Unless you want me to leave that pretty pussy on fire.”
You had a hard time believing that one, considering he was the one who couldn’t seem to go twenty-four hours without getting some. But you were just desperate enough in this moment to oblige his demands. 
You hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to crash your lips into his. You licked into his mouth and bit sensuously on his bottom lip. He rumbled a deep, pleased sound that you felt in your chest.
And you felt his hand spanning the small of your back. Your fingers once again dove into his hair. 
Eventually you spoke against his lips, “Please. I fucking need you…”
His lips twitched in satisfaction. But he read the sheer wanting in your eyes, and the bit of vulnerability in your voice. Like you hadn’t been taken apart quite like this before. Or maybe it had really been that long for you. 
Whatever it was, this seemed to matter to you. The way you responded to his every touch, the way you demanded from him, was incredibly fucking hot.
So he was more than willing to help you make up for lost time. 
Ben licked his already wet lips and guided you back down. He actually put his all into fucking you. Not only were you the hottest piece of ass he’d had in a long time, but it was a point of pride for him. 
He wanted to be the only one you remembered—the one who’d turned you inside out and made you forget that you were supposed to hate him. 
Because yeah, he was that fucking good. And you were worth the effort. 
He held you tight enough to bruise as your release hit you in waves, sending hot tingles all over your body and making you freaking light-headed. Your tightening inner walls around his cock brought him along with you, and he spilled into you with a straining grunt. 
Once he’d pulled out and slid onto the bed next to you, an exhausted sigh fell from between your lips. But Ben turned to you with an almost boyish grin. 
“You mentioned something about the new Bond movie,” he said. 
You blinked at him, for a moment uncomprehending. Then you had to laugh. “Yeah, I said that an hour ago. Then you all but tackled me onto the bed.” 
He shrugged and turned on your TV. 
“Put it on while I wash up,” he said, tossing you the remote. You had a feeling it was because he still hadn’t gotten the hang of the apps on smart TVs. You sent him a narrowed look, but you found Skyfall on Netflix. 
“It’s not new, exactly. New to you, maybe,” you quipped. 
“I already know it’s not gonna be as good as Connery, but I’ll give this British asshole a try,” he said from inside the bathroom.  
“You will, huh?” you asked with a grin. “Didn’t think you were into that sort of thing.”
“What?” 
He finally came back out, still buck naked, and returned to your side on the bed. He gave you a quirking brow. 
“Never mind,” you said with a chuckle. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up too, then dragged on a large shirt over a pair of underwear. By the time you returned to the bed, Ben had gotten a bowl of popcorn and, of course, a large blunt.
You knew he was self-medicating. According to Butcher and Hughie, the guy had been suffering from PTSD big time…well, you hadn’t needed them to tell you that.
Even though your interactions with him before now had been somewhat limited, you knew that he couldn’t sleep. He boozed and drugged hard, from what you’d seen of his hangovers in the morning. 
The rest of it, he tried to keep a tight lid on. A byproduct of the bygone “never share your honest man feelings” era. Butcher was another one. But you were perceptive enough to see that Ben was hiding.
You were still curious though; still wanted to know what it was he hid behind stoicism and lust.  And what then?
“I’ll give Hollywood one thing. The stunts and effects are fucking incredible now,” Ben said. He was glued to the car chase on the TV screen. He was almost like a little kid, his eyes lighting up with every explosion and seemingly impossible move James Bond made to evade his enemies.
It had been a while since you’d seen this movie, but then it dawned on you that there was a certain erotic-ish scene between Bond and the villain, Raoul Silva, that you weren't sure of how Ben would react.
You shook your head. Another consequence of him being from a much different time, along with his outdated views on gender roles, among other things. 
No matter how frustrating he could be, you reminded yourself of the night he helped you cook. And the night he saved you. 
He could change, you reasoned. Maybe. With the proper motivation—
A shootout with a machine gun on the screen jolted you a bit, interrupting your thoughts. You reached over to the bowl of popcorn in Ben’s lap and grabbed a handful. But when you heard his breathing shallow, you glanced at him and frowned in concern. 
His gaze was on the TV, but his eyes were glazed over, slightly dilated. He was sitting very still, and he looked pale. 
“Ben,” you tried, with a tentative hand on his bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch, and clammy with sweat. 
“Hmm, what?” He turned his head towards you, but you he wasn’t really hearing you. His gaze ran through you, and above your head.
“Ben,” you said, more firmly. You kneeled next to him, grabbing his shoulder for leverage, and grabbed his face to turn it towards you. He blinked down at you. 
Your name fell from his lips, almost like a question. He wasn’t able to focus on you though. You called his name again and took his face with both hands. 
“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” You raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot. 
You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you.  
His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his. 
Ben pushed you away from him and knocked you clean off the bed. He managed to angle himself with his chest upwards, just in time for the nuclear power in his chest to carve a huge hole into the ceiling, through the entire roof of the mansion, and up into the sky. 
Afterwards, Ben slumped, taking in ragged breaths and wiping sweat from his face. But then his eyes widened with realization. He looked over and saw you prone on the floor. 
He slid off the bed and went to you, dropping a knee at your side and reaching a hand to your cheek. He called your name once, then twice. When you didn’t wake up, his hand hesitated, then moved to feel your pulse. 
He felt it thrum beneath the pads of his fingers. You were alive, just knocked the fuck out for a bit…
So he eased you into his arms and slid your hair away from your face, unwilling to admit, even to himself, that he was worried. 
Not until you roused in his arms did he let out a subtle, relieved breath.
He gave you a crooked smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”
You groaned. “What the hell…”
Your beautiful eyes opened and met his. 
“You with me?” he asked. 
“Yeah,” though you winced at a nod. Your gaze shifted behind him and a soft gasp fell from your lips. Ben glanced over his shoulder, and the two of you looked up at the giant hole in the ceiling that was letting the bright glow of the moon into your bedroom. 
There was a mess of debris and wood and plaster all over the room. Even you and Ben were covered in a fine layer of it. He was avoiding your gaze now.
But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. 
You just sighed and offered him a smile.
“At least now I have a window in here,” you joked. “Was getting stuffy as hell."
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That night, you slept in his room. You practically drowned in his large, plush bed that smelled like his cologne and aftershave. 
Though you hoped he didn’t expect you to stay here from now on. As much as you were starting to like him (and you still didn’t want to admit that fact), there were times when you needed your privacy. 
By the time you woke and started your day, however, Ben led you to a new room. It was bigger, with nicer furnishings, including a king-sized bed instead of a queen. It was bigger than your entire apartment back home in New York.
“Wow,” you said, turning to him with a smile. “Thank you.”
Though at that point, you knew Stockholm syndrome was real. 
Ben shrugged, returning your smile a bit. “Got twenty more of these. No big deal.”
“Right.” You raised a brow, then turned to survey your surroundings with your hands on your hips.
He’d insisted on carrying all your things himself (likely due to an old-fashioned sense of machismo-backed chivalry), even though the room was on the same floor as your old one. It was much closer to his, you noticed.  
Then you felt his hands snaking down your sides from behind, molding to the curve of your waist. You felt the warmth of his chest through his clothing as he pressed against your back. 
“Time to break it in,” he said, with the deepening turn of his voice that too often made your insides quiver and melt into goo. 
“Do you ever get tired of fucking?” you quipped. Though it lost its effect somewhat when you leaned against him, all too willing. 
Ben chuckled into your ear. “Take it as a fucking compliment, sweetheart. Your pussy is the sweetest I’ve had since before I went under.”
That made you pause. You turned in his arms and looked up at his face with a challenging brow. You wondered if he was just sweet-talking you (his version of it, anyway), or if he really meant that shit. 
“Don’t believe me?” he asked. 
“You’ve been plowing through hookers and escorts for months. Professionals,” you pointed out. “You don’t have to lie to me just to butter me up.”
“Why the fuck would I lie about some stupid shit like that?” he retorted. You frowned at him.
“Because it’s not stupid,” you said.
You pushed his hands from you and turned away, but he held you fast by your wrist, pulling you back toward him. You frowned in annoyance at his manhandling.
“What’s the real reason you hadn’t fucked anyone in three years?” he asked. Though it was more a demand than a question. 
“Why’re you so hung up on that?” you asked. “It’s no big deal.”
“Why are you so shocked by what I said?” he countered. He was giving you a choice: answer one question, or the other. 
You let out a frustrated breath and waved your arms in exasperation.  
“I was busy, okay?” you said. “Vought had me on tough hours and shitty details. I didn’t have time for a life.”
And after the things you’d seen, you didn’t much feel like interacting with people, be they supes or normal humans. 
“That’s not the real reason,” Ben said. His fingers held your chin so you couldn’t look away. In the deep green of his eyes, you saw the same curiosity that plagued you.
Maybe…maybe if you gave him an inch, he’d give you one. 
Metaphorically speaking.
“I didn’t like who I was,” you confessed at last. “I just…I don’t know. Nothing felt right back then. It just took me a while to finally do something about it.” 
He seemed to consider that, and you.
You took the opportunity of his distraction to extricate yourself from his grip, and you ventured further into your new room. Your eyes lit up when you found an old record player sitting on a dresser, and a basket full of vinyl on the floor next to it. 
“Wow, seriously retro,” you said with a chuckle. But you knelt down and started flipping through the collection. Ben followed you. With his arms crossed, he looked over your shoulder at the record you fished out. Abbey Road by the Beatles, 1969. You placed the record and set the needle at a specific song.
The drums kicked off into a familiar electric guitar melody. Then John Lennon’s voice echoed through the room. 
“Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover…”
Nostalgia flooded through both of you, albeit for different reasons. For you, it reminded you of your grandpa (on your mother’s side). He’d dedicated this song, “Something,” to your grandma on their 50th anniversary. He’d made sure you played it again a year later, at her funeral. 
Meanwhile, this song always reminded Ben of fingerfucking Farrah Fawcett at a Beatles concert. Ah, the ‘70s. A wild fucking time.
“Good choice,” he remarked. 
You flashed him a smile. 
And with a sigh, you turned to sit against the dresser while the record played. You pat the ground next to you, and while Ben looked reluctant, he eventually sat down beside you. It seemed he had nothing better to do.
“I dabbled in music myself, you know?” he told you, with a smug raise of his brow. “Had a few hits on the charts.”
You grinned in amusement. “Yeah, I had to muck through every one of your cheesy-ass music videos.”
“Hey, every one of those fucking singles were gold.” He shot you an indignant look. “What, had to?”
“When I was researching you,” you said with a chuckle. He raised a brow at that. 
“Oh, yeah?” He rubbed a hand over his beard and met you with a critical eye. “What else did you dig into?” 
You met his eyes, and you knew he had some idea of what you were thinking. 
Ben let out a breath through his nose, craving some reefer. 
“Ah. That, huh?” he said. After a moment to gather your courage, you took a breath.
“Ben—”
“It’s not worth fucking talking about,” he said, a bit of grit edging in his voice. 
“It is if you’re still blowing craters into ceilings, Ben,” you replied sharply. “Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”
His steely silence was all you needed to know. 
“Look, I’ve gone through some shit too,” you said. “But forty years? …I know I’ll never completely understand what you went through, but—”
“You don’t have a fucking clue,” he said. His eyes were sharp, but also guarded. 
You couldn’t help it. The footage you watched was playing inside your mind in perfect scenes. You remembered the sound of his desperation, his struggle. And it had been all-too familiar to you.
“Maybe,” you agreed. “But I do get having shit that flashes behind your eyes, like a bad movie. Things you can’t forget. Things that won’t even do you the mercy of letting you sleep.”
Ben was reluctant to meet your eyes, as if even that small thing would be an admission of weakness. But when he did, you knew he would see a kindred spirit.
“Things that clog up the works,” you continued. You wet your dry lips, swallowing past a tendril of nerves. “And things that should be easy get…complicated. Like watching a movie, or…”
You had to take in a somewhat shaking breath, turning your face away. 
It allowed Ben to look at you a fraction softer. His mind was able to flash away from some of the past, to a more recent memory: the first time you’d pulled him into your room and let him into your bed. 
You’d pleasantly surprised him a few times that night, but there was one moment where he hadn’t known what to do next. 
When he saw panic instead of pleasure take over, and however briefly, he’d wondered if he truly was the monster everyone seemed to think he was.
So now, Ben couldn’t help but reach out to you. The back of his hand touched your neck. Your eyes widened a fraction when his thumb brushed down the column of your throat. 
“What happened to you?” he finally asked. He seemed more than just curious. There was more behind his eyes, and enough earnestness for you to consider trusting him with this part of you…
But still, you were reluctant to give him that big of an inch. 
“It’s only fair,” he pointed out. “The CIA gave you the full low down on me.”
Once again, you sighed. Can’t argue with fair. 
You rested you head back against the wooden dresser as “Oh! Darling” started to play from the record. Now didn’t feel like a particularly good time for a doo-wop, but such was your reality.
“I told you about my dad, right?” you said. Ben inclined his head.
“Something about the family business.”
You nodded. “He trained me. How to read people, how to fight…but he was the first one we had to defend ourselves from.”
Ben considered that with a deepening frown. He’d had an idea this story was going that way, but hearing you come out and say it (even without really being able to say it) just made him angry. His hands clenched into fists where they rested at his sides, on the ground. Until something you said called his attention.
“We?” he repeated. You nodded again. 
“My mom, and my younger sister,” you said, with a tremulous breath. “He was a drunken bastard for most of my childhood. I was about thirteen when he put my mom in the hospital, and it was…bad.” 
You swallowed past a lump of emotion in your throat—mostly at the guilt. If it hadn’t been for you, and your weakness, your mom wouldn’t have needed to intervene. She wouldn’t have had to try to protect you…
“From there, my grandparents got us out of that house,” you said, with a suspect sniff. “Mom finally divorced him.”
Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there.
By the time you were in high school, your father had gotten through his court-ordered rehab and managed to get his life back together. He built his P.I. firm back up, and by all appearances, he seemed to turn his life around. 
He convinced your mother of it enough that she let you work for him after school.
You hadn’t wanted to, but your father had a way of manipulating you too. He reminded you that your grades were shit (I fucking wonder why?). You had little chance of making it to college, so at least he could teach you a trade. 
“I’ll even pay you,” he’d said. And you’d taken the bait. 
He’d been unrelenting in your training, as he was in most respects. As a former Marine, he was rigid in his discipline, demanding perfection from you. 
However, when he felt his lessons weren’t being drilled into your head, he reinforced them with his calloused hands. 
And when Vought came to him, offering him a contract, he negotiated one for you too, without even asking if that was what you wanted. But you went along with it…until you couldn’t anymore.
“I finally broke contact with him when I left to join Supe Affairs,” you finished, quickly wiping a tear from your cheek. You glanced over at your captive audience with slight hesitation.
Ben looked stoic on the surface, calm even. But you didn’t know that it had taken every cell of self-restraint in him to stay quiet. Your red, shining eyes, the way you’d had to stop a few times to collect yourself—it all grated on him in the worst way. 
“Christ on a cross,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “Why the fuck did you work with him?” 
“I told you. I was a kid—”
“No, I mean when he got the fucking deal from Vought,” he said tersely. “You could’ve split. Found yourself a husband, got your own life. Why the fuck would you sell yourself out like that?”
Your lips pursed. “First of all, I don’t need a husband to have my own life. Second, I’m not the only one here who worked for Vought.”
Ben huffed. He wanted to call you a fucking idiot. He wanted to say, See? This is why you need a real fucking man in your life. 
But with daddy issues this bad, you’d probably fuck that up too. 
“Answer the goddamn question,” he said instead, though none too gently. 
You gave him a soft glare. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for you to say all of this aloud, let alone confide in him?
But now that he did know, maybe he’d be more likely to open up to you. You would be able to understand him better, and maybe…maybe one day, you could convince him to let you go. 
So you felt you had no choice but to answer his real question. 
Why the fuck did you follow your father to Vought?
The truth was, that man had a way of getting into your head, living in your skin, and making it crawl.
“He’s a manipulative bastard,” you said. 
He knew how to work you, just like your mom. And your mother was…well, damaged. You knew you couldn’t rule yourself out of that one either. 
However, the thought did spark your own curiosity. 
“What were your parents like?” you asked. 
The question seemed to surprise him. His frustration with you melted into a more uncertain frown. You bumped his shoulder with yours.
“Come on. It’s only fair,” you teased. A smile lifted his lips, but his eyes became rueful.
“She was a good woman,” he replied, speaking of his mother. “Quiet maybe, unlike you.”
You smiled in amusement at that. 
“But elegant,” Ben said. The softening edges of his smile told you volumes.
“She didn’t grow up with much, so when she married my father, she learned how to live in his world," he said. "But she still cooked and cleaned and pretty much ran the house, even though we had people to do that shit.”
“How did she meet your dad?” you asked. You knew his father’s family was from old money. He’d inherited his empire from his father before him.
Ben glanced at you. “She sang at this club…a nice one though, not some fucking dive. She wasn’t the star or anything, but my father noticed her. Said she was the only one who could pull off red lipstick without looking like a whore.”
That made you roll your eyes, which provoked an amused grin out of Ben.
“Charming,” you remarked. It must’ve really upset the old apple cart when his father married his mother. You wondered how she’d felt about Ben becoming Soldier Boy…
“Doesn’t sound familiar?” he asked. "Pretty girl in red, croonin' for a bunch of assholes in a musty fucking club?"
At first, you were confused.
And then, you realized the reason for his not-so-subtle grin. With an incredulous blush, you supposed that you and Ben had met in much the same way as his parents. 
Well, that’s not creepy at all, said the more rational part of your brain.
…Or maybe, weirdly romantic, whispered the other part. The part that had probably caved after you watched Ben try and fail to chop onions for the first time.  
“What was your favorite thing about her?” you asked. 
“You know, all my pictures of her are in black in white…I don’t even remember what color her eyes were,” he admitted. “But I remember her voice. Smooth as warm butter. She’d hum with the radio whenever she cooked. If Dad wasn’t there, she’d belt out a tune or two. I’d sit in the kitchen and watch.”
Imagining that scene made you smile softly. 
“Her captive audience,” you teased. Ben took it with a quirk of his mouth. 
“What about your dad?” you asked. He turned to you with a knowing look. You both knew what the man had thought of Ben. But you wanted to hear it in his own words.
“My father was a stern man,” he said. The softness was gone, and your smile fell. “This kind of larger-than-life force when I was a kid… Of course, when I became a man, he didn’t consider me worth the fucking effort. Not even when I became a hero, and everybody in the fucking world knew my name, he couldn’t admit that I’d fucking surpassed him.”
You sighed. More than anyone, you understood the underlying resentment in Ben’s tone. The kind of young recklessness that pushed him into becoming Soldier Boy, trying to prove his father wrong. 
“He thought you cut corners to do it. And while he wasn’t wrong,” you said, as gentle as possible. You held your ground when Ben looked sharply at you. “You didn’t deserve to be ignored either.”
Ben scoffed at that, as if he didn’t give two shits one way or the other. You knew better. 
So the two of you kept talking, sitting there on the floor long after the record finished. You traded stories and bickered as you often did.
But when you managed make him laugh, genuine, hand-on-chest, and almost boyish, you had to try and stem off a blush as you felt a pleasant flutter in your belly.
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“It’s been two fucking months since you lost him in Colombia, and what do you have to show for it?” Grace Mallory said into the screen of her cell phone. FaceTime was only glitching slightly, at least. 
On the other side of the looking glass, Butcher was annoyed.
“He’s like a coil of smoke,” he said. “Pulled a motherfucking Houdini act. I have half a mind to think he’s gettin’ some help. Other than the ex-military cunts he recruited on the road.” 
Grace thought for a moment. “Give me five minutes.”
Butcher hung up before she did. With a purse of her lips, she searched for another number in her contacts. Some personal assistant answered the line.
“Get me Stan Edgar,” she said. 
“Well, he’s actually in a meeting right now—”
“Now,” Grace snapped. “Unless you want a CIA squad storming the tower for withholding evidence.”
In less than thirty seconds, Stan’s familiar monotone greeted her.
“Good afternoon, Grace,” he said. “How can I help you?”
“You fucked up, Stan,” she replied, resting back in her office chair. “This doesn’t bode well for you.”
“To what matter are you referring?”
“You know exactly what. I’m going to ask you this once,” she said. “If I don’t get a straight fucking answer, I’ll have no other recourse but to rake through your records all over again. And we both remember how pleasant that was.”
“We’ve done nothing but comply with the government’s demands.”
“Right,” Grace scoffed. “Listen to me. If I find out that you’ve withheld information about Soldier Boy’s location—or even so far as helping him evade my grasp—I will dig so far up your ass, you won’t be able to fucking breathe.”
There was a pause on the other line. 
Eventually, however, the little toad spoke. 
“You’ll have the coordinates shortly.”
Grace’s mouth curved with a grim smile, and she hung up. 
Meanwhile, in his office at Vought Tower, Stan sighed and turned to his Chief of Security, Jon.
“Should we send them the comprehensive list of Soldier Boy’s safe houses?” he asked.
“No. Just the one in Colombia,” Stan said. “But Jonathan, it is time for our contingency plan.”
Jon met Stan’s gaze with a nod. 
“I’ll give the order.”
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AN: 😬 Welp, things are going to start getting bumpy from here lol.
Next Time:
His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.
“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so. Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side.
Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.
It was very bad.
Keep Reading: PART 9
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
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weareapackofstrays · 25 days
Text
A New Kind of Love: Chapter V (Final)
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Genre: Non-Idol college au, fwb to lovers, angst, romance, drama
Pairing: Minho x F!Reader
Warnings: Oral Sex, Unprotected sex, Cussing. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: 6,519
Summary: Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.
Chapter V: About Time Prev
Charlotte: I'm stuck. Does it get easier? Bob: No...Yes, it gets easier. Charlotte: Oh yeah? Look at you. Bob: Thanks...The more you know who you are and what you want, the less you let things upset you. Charlotte: Yeah...I just don't know what I'm supposed to be. You know? I tried being a writer, but I hate what I write and I tried taking pictures, but they’re so mediocre, you know? Every girl goes through a photography phase. You know, like horses? You know? Take, uh, dumb pictures of your feet. Bob: You'll figure that out. I’m not worried about you. Keep writing.
The apartment felt extra lonely tonight. You were huddled on your couch surrounded by comfort snacks and wearing cozy pajamas. It should have been a relaxing evening, but when one of your favorite movies couldn’t help distract you from the past few days, you grew restless. Eventually you turn it off and throw your face into your hands. All you could think about was your earlier exchange with Minho. His words and behavior replaying in your mind on a loop. You keep hurting him, but you don’t mean to. You punch the pillow next to you out of frustration. Why are you like this? There is a burning feeling in your chest that you can’t identify. You try to drink water to wash it away, but nothing works. Your phone buzzes beside you. Momo is calling, but you ignore it. Instead, you grab a sweater and head upstairs to talk to Minho.
You're about to knock on the door, but your hand hesitates and hovers in place. Your feet suddenly feel like sandbags. Chris happens to be walking by the entryway when he sees a figure looming at the door. He opens it to greet you. You stare up at him like a deer caught in the headlights before recovering your composure. 
“Hey, Y/n,” the oldest greets you with a warm smile.
“Hey, Chris,” you respond meekly. “I was just wondering if-”
“Do I hear Y/n?” Jisung and Felix pop their heads out from the kitchen.
Jisung runs over and pulls you into a tight hug. “Hey, neighbor! How are you?” 
“Fine, really, I’m fine.” 
Felix hugs you next and takes hold of your hands. “I swear we didn’t know you and Daniel had history, let alone, that kind of history.” His tone is apologetic. 
“Don’t worry about it.” Daniel was honestly the last thing on your mind right now. 
“I’m baking some special chocolate chip cookies. Should be ready shortly. Want one?”
“Y-yeah, I'll grab one in a moment. Just need to talk to Minho.” Jisung and Felix exchange a look that you can’t quite read. 
“Minho isn’t home right now,” Jisung says, a hint of hesitance in his voice. 
“Oh. Where is he?” 
Chris clears his throat and you turn to look at him. “He’s still at dance practice. Probably won’t be home for a while,” Chris explains. You nod your head, disappointed. The four of you fall into silence, but are thankfully interrupted by the oven timer going off. 
“My cookies!” Felix runs back into the kitchen to take them out. Jisung watches as you do everything to avoid eye contact with him and Chris, shuffling on your feet. The air in the room suddenly feels thick and it’s hard to breathe. 
“Y/n?” Jisung puts a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” Your heart thrums loudly in your ears. The burning in your chest starts to spread across your body. 
“Sorry, I need to go. I’ll, um…bye.” You leave the boys standing stunned in the entryway. A familiar image.
Felix walks into the room with a plate full of cookies. “Y/n, here are your-” He looks around and sees you’ve left already. He snaps his finger. “Dammit, why does she keep running out on us every time I offer her baked goods?”
Chris puts an arm around Felix’s shoulder and grabs a cookie. “Maybe she doesn’t like sweets?” Chris says with a mouthful of cookie.
“Nah, I’ve seen her scarf down a bowl full of jelly beans in minutes.” All three boys quickly turn to find Seungmin sitting in the living room, completely surprised by his presence. “She probably just doesn’t like your baking.” Felix gasps. 
“How long have you been there?” Chris asks as he chokes back the dessert. 
“Long enough.”
Jisung places his hand on Felix, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Ignore him. He’s probably still salty about last week’s pancake debacle. Your baked goods are amazing.” Felix beams at Jisung’s compliment.
“I told you, it wasn’t my fault!” Seungmin shouts from the couch.
“Keep telling yourself that, babe!” Jisung and Felix walk back into the kitchen while Seungmin stomps off upstairs to pout. Momo rubs her eyes as she passes Seungmin on her way down the stairs.
“Do I smell cookies?” she lets out a yawn. 
Chris pulls her into his side and kisses her temple. “Hey, sleepyhead. There’s some in the kitchen. You just missed, Y/n, by the way.” 
“What? She was here just now?”
“Yeah. She seemed…off. Thought you should know.” Momo pulls out her phone to check if you called her back or texted her, but doesn’t see anything. 
“I’ll try to check on her later. Thanks, Channie.” Momo gives Chris a kiss before joining the boys in the kitchen.
“Hey, Momo!” Jisung greets her cheerily. 
“Chris mentioned there were cookies?” she asks innocently. 
“Yeah!” Felix hands her the plate of goodies and she happily takes one. 
Jisung watches Momo as he considers asking some questions that have been on his mind. “Hey, Momo…Can I ask you something?” he says with hesitance in his voice. She turns her attention to the doe eyed boy. “Do you know anything about what’s going on between Y/n and Minho?”
Momo takes a bite of her cookie and chews on it for a moment. Eventually she shakes her head. “I don’t really know the details. I think we all know by now they are sleeping together, but outside of that…” Momo shrugs. “I believe they have feelings for each other whether they know it or not though.”
“Exactly! That’s what we said. So why do they constantly fight it? I love Y/n, but I think she’s really hurting our boy. I know he seems tough, but inside he’s pretty soft.”
“Y/n doesn’t like to talk about this stuff anymore. Honestly, I think she’s still hurt and doesn’t want to open herself up again. She wasn’t like this before.”
“Before what?” Felix asks curiously.
“Before Daniel cheated.”
“Right…” Felix and Jisung nod, simultaneously understanding.
“I also think her parent’s divorce was really hard on her.” Momo continues. “I’ve never asked about it. Always seemed too painful to, but maybe I should have. I can tell it affects her.” Momo knows she probably shouldn’t divulge your past without your consent, but she feels she needs to explain some of your character. Chris walks into the kitchen to pull Momo away, leaving the two boys to consider her words and what to do. 
-
Minho gets home late that night and immediately takes a shower. Practice was shit and all he wants to do is forget about it. He tries to fall asleep, but instead he spends the night tossing and turning. Minho can’t stand that the two of you have once again gotten into a disagreement.
Eventually, he looks at his phone and sees that it’s almost 4 in the morning. Groaning out of frustration, he forces himself to get up. Minho starts to pace his room, wondering if he should text you or not, but ultimately decides against it. Plus, it’s the middle of the night, he reasons. Minho lays back down in bed and passes out without realizing. He suddenly jolts awake and immediately grabs his phone. It’s already after 8am. He scrolls through his phone and reads over your limited text conversations searching for answers he knows he wont find. Giving up, he decides to go to the gym to sweat out his frustrations. After walking out of the house, he passes by your door on the way to his car. His feet stop as he considers what to do for a moment. Fuck it, he says to himself. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He's too tired. All Minho wants is to hold you until the ice encased around your heart finally melts. Why can't you just let him in? 
You awake to hurried knocks. Stumbling out of bed, you throw a sweater on and make your way to the door. “Minho?” You ask groggily, surprised to see him standing there. You look over at your stove and it reads 9:15am. “Why are you here so early?” Instead of answering he pulls you into his arms and hoists your legs around his waist. He shuts the door behind him and walks the two of you into the kitchen. “Minho, what is going on?”
He places you on the counter and kisses you deeply. All animosity between the two of you melting away. What he doesn’t say is how he couldn’t sleep, too busy being kept awake thinking of you. He couldn’t admit that he fought it as long as he could until he grew impatient and had to see you. Minho removes his lips and leans his forehead against yours. He lets out a shaky sigh before speaking. Eyes closed he says, “나는 너를 좋아해” in Korean, but you don’t understand. 
“What?” you whisper against his lips as you run your fingers through his soft hair. Instead of answering, he slots himself between your legs pushing his hardened cock into your core. You think he’s going in for a kiss, but instead he hugs you tightly to his chest and rests his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent and leaves a trail of feather light kisses. Chills explode across your skin. He slowly moves his way up your neck to your jawline before hovering above your mouth. Minho finally presses his lips to yours and all questions escape your train of thought. You could ask them another time. You didn’t want to think about the answers anyways. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours. His hands move from your hips and slowly climb up your sides, gently grazing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. You push into his touch as his kiss swallows your sighs.
“Fuck me, Minho,” you beg.
“Not yet.” Minho slips his fingers beneath your panties. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers into your ear as he circles your clit. You shiver at the way his voice tickles you. He peppers your neck with gentle kisses while his free hand rubs your thigh slowly, squeezing every so often. So many sensations it’s making you dizzy. 
“Minho…” you take hold of his wrist to push him inside of you. He starts to pump slowly, curling his fingers with each push. Your other hand grips the back of his neck.
“Does it feel good, baby?”
“Y-yes.” Your breathing picks up as his pace increases. 
“Good. I love the way you feel on my fingers. I love knowing how close you are. It’s so hot the way you look when you come apart just from my touch.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, princess. I think you might be close right now. Hmm?” Your walls start to enclose on him as your orgasm rises within you. You nod your head vigorously as moans spill out your lips.
“I’m gonna…Minho, I’m gonna come!” You pull him closer to your body, arching yourself to make sure his fingers can reach as far as they can and you start grinding against them. 
“Let go, baby. I’ve got you. Come for me, my princess.”
You scream his name as you finally release. He continues to push his fingers in and out until you finish. When he slides out of you he looks at his soaked hand and tastes you.  “Mmm,” he purrs. Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and you cover your face feeling shy for some reason. He pulls your hands down to meet your eyes. The two of you just smile.
Minho lifts you from the counter and carries you into your bedroom. He lays you out on the mattress and climbs over you. When his lips meet yours you get a subtle taste of yourself in his kiss and it makes your middle tighten with need again. Minho pushes his tongue in and licks against yours. It’s not hungry, but slow this time. He’s in no rush. Even as you try to take the usual approach with him, he shushes you soothingly. “Let me take my time with you.” He looks into your eyes pleading and you nod. Minho kisses the tip of your nose then goes back to your lips, intertwining your tongues together. You widen your legs to allow him to fit between you. He slowly grinds into you and you let out quiet moans into his mouth. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted. So lov-…no, you won’t say that word.
Minho pulls away briefly to take his shirt off. You trace the lines on his stomach up to his chest before taking one of his nipples into your mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, enjoying the sensation of your tongue twirling around him. You gently bite down and he can’t help the way his eyes roll into the back of his head. You bring your lips down his chest and kiss his scar a few times before you look back up at him. He takes hold of your chin. “What baby?” He asks.
“Get on your back. I want to suck you off.” He does as you ask and lays down on your bed. You climb over him and pull off his shorts and boxers. His cock springs up and you take him into your hand. He shivers as you place gentle kisses down his shaft while massaging his perineum. 
“Suck on me, baby.” Minho instructs. You grip his base and take him into your mouth. He moans at the sensation and places a firm grip in your hair. You bob up and down his cock enjoying the way his balls tighten under your grip as you pleasure him. “Just like that, baby!” Minho starts to fuck into your mouth, making you gag with each repeated hit to the back of your throat. “You take daddy’s cock so well!” Preening at his compliment, you increase your speed. 
Needing a breather, you remove him from your mouth and kittenlick his tip. Minho growls with impatience. “Don’t tease me, princess.” You roll your eyes and continue. “Do that again and see what happens.” His tone is dark and serious, sending a flood of arousal through you. You try to ignore him.
“Wanna make you come, Min,” you say while batting your lashes. 
“Not yet. I want to be inside you first.” You squeeze your thighs together at the thought and nod. 
“Okay.”
“Sit up.” Minho peels your clothes off and throws them onto the floor, leaving you completely naked before him. He sits back on his ankles and takes a moment to admire you. You look away feeling nervous again under his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” 
“Minho…” 
“You are.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you almost feel like crying. “Come here, baby.” Minho lays you back on the bed as he kisses down your body, inching closer to where you need him most. Pleasure rolls through you from the connection and you start to whine.
“Minho, please, I can’t take it.”
“What do you need, princess? I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I need you inside me.”
“Okay.” He takes his cock in his hand and positions himself above you. Minho slowly pushes in savoring the way your walls envelop him. You watch as his face contorts and his head leans back. You're making him feel good and it turns you on so much. 
“Minho,” you whisper. He faces you again. 
“Yes, princess?”
“Kiss me.” He leans in for a passionate kiss as he bottoms out inside of you. Minho slowly rolls his hips into you allowing for a gradual climb in pleasure. Your body gives in and you hug him close to you, erasing all space between you. Minho’s thrusts start to quicken as he feels your walls flutter around him. “I’m gonna, come, baby!” You shout. 
“Me too. Come with me.” Minho takes hold of your chin to face him. You look into his eyes as you feel yourself start to unravel beneath him, unable to help it when they flutter shut. “Don’t.” Minho begs. “Keep looking at me, princess.” You nod and force your eyes open. Watching each other’s faces shift in euphoria brings you both to the edge and you come together. Minho calls out your name and pulls you into his body. He holds you close as he continues to rock his hips into you until you’re shaking. 
“Fuck, I can’t. Minho, it’s too much.”
“Just a little longer, baby.” Minho is still hard and needs to release himself again. The overstimulation starts to shift into pleasure and you feel yourself about to come again.
“Minho!” an unfamiliar high pitched scream leaves your mouth. “I can’t. I can’t hold on much longer.” 
Minho growls as he fucks you harder. The slapping of skin growing louder as he pushes you closer to the edge. “Fuck! Y/n. I’m gonna come again.” 
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You repeat as your orgasm hits you more intensely than the first. Minho looks down at where you're both connected and sees your release cover his pubic hair. The sight is enough for him and he comes again inside of you. His second release trickles down your body and onto the sheets. You're both sweating and panting heavily. You wrap your legs around Minho’s waist, not ready for him to pull out so he latches onto your neck while he catches his breath. 
“Y/n, I lo-”
You cut him off. “That was amazing.” He smiles and gives you a quick peck, before unwrapping your legs from his waist. He grunts as he pulls out of you and you can feel even more of his sticky come sliding down your body. He lies on his back, resting a hand on your inner thigh. 
The two of you lie in your bed basking in the afterglow. As your high deflates you start to think about how different the sex was. It wasn’t the usual hungry romp, it felt like…it felt like he made love to you. This thought shoots your heart into your throat. You sit up suddenly at the revelation, unsure of how you feel. Minho sits up on his elbows, as you look around your room for coverage. You feel completely bare and vulnerable. He watches you nervously.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just need to shower.” You turn to leave, but his hand catches your wrist. You look back at him. 
“Get dinner with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question.
“What?”
“You know, food?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand? It’s just dinner.”
“I know, sorry, it’s just we don’t normally do that.”
“Come on, Y/n.” Minho chuckles. He tries to pull you in to hold you. “Get dinner with me tonight, please.” There is a hint of desperation in his tone. His eyes search yours as he silently pleads. Now he feels vulnerable. 
You remove your wrist from his grasp and stand back. “Why are you pushing this, Minho?”
He watches you throw your t-shirt over your head and scoffs. “Why are you making this such a big deal, Y/n?”
“Why are you?” You shoot him a glare. Minho crosses his arms and the two of you stare at each other. He finally gives up and rolls his eyes.
“Forget it.” He bends down and starts to get dressed. You can feel your heart race as he finishes. “When you want to stop acting like a child, come find me.”  
“You came to my apartment, Minho.” 
“Yeah, what a mistake.” He walks past you and your hand reaches out for his arm. 
“Minho, wait-“ he ignores you as he heads for your front door. You want to follow after him, but you don’t. You can’t. What is wrong with you? You curse at yourself, not understanding your feelings. He slams the door shut and you realize tears are falling down your cheeks. You angrily wipe your face as you grab a towel and head for the shower. Hopefully, the water will wash these feelings away. 
-
A few hours later you receive a text from Minho asking to meet up for coffee. The message is simple and you can’t help but feel it lacks all emotion. Nerves start to spread through you as you head out to meet with him. When you finally arrive, you find Minho in the back of the cafe looking solemn. He is staring into his coffee mug. You immediately sense something is wrong and your instinct tells you to run, but you push forward.
“Hey,” you whisper, pulling Minho from the depths of his thoughts. 
“Hey,” he says back. He gestures for you to sit so you take the seat in front of him. 
The two of you sit in silence and you can’t take it anymore so you finally ask, “Is everything okay?” Minho doesn’t answer immediately and you can feel your hands start to shake so you place them in your lap to hide them. Minho closes his eyes and exhales, before he finally faces you. He decides to cut to the chase while he still has the confidence.
“Y/n, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“This sleeping around thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just, it’s not enough for me.”
Furrowing your brows, you try to process what he’s saying. You look down at the table, unable to hold his gaze. “Is there…someone else?” You weren’t expecting that question to make your heart hurt, but it did as the words left your mouth. 
“No,” he shakes his head. “No, nothing like that.” Relief washes over you. 
“Then why?” you hear a hint of panic in your voice. 
Minho reaches across the table and takes hold of your hands in his. He gently squeezes, beckoning you to face him. “Y/n, I like you. No, actually, I think I love you.” He releases your hands and sits back. “I don’t want it to be just sex anymore. I want more than that. I want to date you.” Butterflies flutter around in your chest. You were never expecting a confession from Lee Minho. It takes you aback and you are unsure why you cannot think of a response to him. All you do is stare, wide eyed. “If you don’t feel the same…it’s fine, but it would maybe be best if we don’t see each other for a little while.”
“How long is a little while?” You ask immediately. 
Minho scratches the back of his head and thinks for a moment before answering. “I guess as long as it takes for me to get over my feelings for you.” He shrugs. While you still struggle to give him an answer, he gets up from the table. “Just let me know, Y/n.” He drops a few dollars for a tip and heads for the door before you can say anything. Within seconds, he’s gone from your sight. You consider chasing after him, but once again you find you can’t. Instead, you just sit there, frozen, staring at his empty chair and repeating his words in your head. I think I love you.
-
Feeling like he is carrying the weight of the world inside of his chest, Minho drags his feet as he makes his way back home. Finally in the safety of his room, he turns off all his lights and crawls under the covers. Maybe if he just lays still he will become one with his mattress and disappear like Johnny Depp in A Nightmare on Elm Street, albeit less bloody. Unfortunately for him, though fortunately, his friends would not be letting this happen. A few minutes after Minho had resigned to his fate, he hears footsteps enter the room.
“토끼?” It’s Chris’s voice. Minho doesn’t respond. He feels the bed dip as someone sits. A hand finds his calf and gently squeezes.
“Hyung?” Now Jisung’s voice.
“I don’t want to talk.”
Chris stands beside Minho’s bed near where he assumes his head is. He leans against the wall. “You don’t have to right now. But I do think you need to talk to her.” 
“I already did. I broke things off.” Chris and Jisung look at each other in surprise. 
“Okay…because she doesn’t like you or?” the eldest asks.
“She didn’t really say anything when I told her.”
“Oh.”
Jisung chimes in, “But she likes you too. I know she does!”
Minho sighs beneath the covers. “I’m not so sure.”
Felix appears out of thin air startling everyone. “Her heart’s been broken. She’s like a stray cat, you need to be patient with her.”
“How much more time can she possibly need? At this point, she either likes me or she doesn’t.” 
Jeongin and Seungmin suddenly crowd the doorway “What’s with the party?” Seungmin interrupts. 
“Not now, boys.” Chris says sternly, but kindly.
Minho sits up and pulls the covers from his face. “Why is everyone in my room? Can’t a guy sulk in peace?” 
“We’re not leaving until you join us downstairs for a movie night.” Chris says.
“Movie night?” Jeongin asks excitedly. 
Felix turns to the youngest and nods. “You get to pick the movie this time.”
“Wait, why does he get to pick? I'm the one that’s sad?” Minho shouts.
“Who’s sad?” Changbin now appears behind Jeongin and Seungmin pushing them further into the room. 
“Minho hyung is sad.” Seungmin says and Minho groans, throwing the covers over him again.
“What's hyung sad about?” Binnie asks innocently.
“Someone is sad?” Hyunjin appears now wrapping an arm around Binnie’s strong shoulders.
“Y/n doesn’t like Minho so he’s crying alone in his room.”
“Sure, tell everyone my business, Seungmin.” The Minho-shaped lump speaks again.
“Um, I thought I just did.” The young boy shrugs matter of factly. Minho removes the sheets from his face again to shoot a death glare at the boy, but Seungmin ignores it. 
“Who’s Y/n?” Hyunjin asks, picking some lint off his sweater.
“Jesus Christ, Hyunjin. Really?” Minho throws his arms up in frustration. 
Chris turns to Hyunjin, “Girl downstairs. You’ve met her a few times.”
“Ahhh basement girl that hyung is in love with. Okay, got it. I’m caught up now.” 
“Minho hyung is in love with Y/n?” Innie asks. A teasing smile spreads across his face.
Minho places his fingers on the bridge of nose and squeezes. “End me, please.”
Seungmin starts to say something, but Chris anticipates his move and throws him a threatening look. Seungmin retreats behind Binnie for protection while Jeongin snickers. 
Chris turns back to look at his oldest kid. “Alright, Minho, you’re getting up and coming downstairs and don’t think we won’t drag you.” He faces the rest of the boys and points. “Seungmin, Changbin. Go grab some snacks from the convenience store.” They both race for the exit pushing each other playfully fighting. Chris turns to the youngest. “Jeongin, go pick a movie.” The maknae heads out of Minho’s room with a skip in his step. Chris shouts out to him before he can get too far, “And not Detective Pikachu again.” 
They hear a whine. “Fine! Then it's You've got Mail!” Jeongin calls out from the stairwell.
Chris turns back to Felix. “Are your brownies almost ready?” 
“Should be, I’ll go check on them.”
“Jisung, go help Felix.” The boy stands with a salute and heads to leave.
“And what about me?” Hyunjin is still standing near the doorway. 
Jisung puts his hand on the tall boy's shoulder. “You just keep looking beautiful, baby.” Hyunjin smiles his famous dumpling smile and follows after Hannie. 
Chris holds out his hand to Minho and waits. Minho looks at his friend’s hand for a moment then closes his eyes in pain. “Hyung, I think I actually am in love with her.”
“I know.” 
“I didn't mean to catch feelings.”
“We never do, man.” Chris pats his friend on the back. 
“She’s so infuriating. We are total opposites and we constantly get under each other’s skin and yet-”
“And yet the moment you saw her, there was no choice.”
“Yeah…”
“Look, you’re going to get it sorted, I know you will. But tonight we’re not going to worry about that. Instead we’re going to go downstairs, cuddle puddle on the couch, and cry over Tom Hanks stalking Meg Ryan.”
“Who’s going to cry?” Minho mimes looking around. “Not me!” 
Chris rolls his eyes as he pulls his moody cat to his feet. “You cried at the end of Sleepless in Seattle.”
“The boy waited at the top of the Empire State Building all day for Annie! He was alone! Who wouldn’t cry?!”
“가자” the oldest shoves Minho out of his room and together they make their way downstairs to enjoy movie night. 
Meanwhile across campus, you sob into your red vines as the credits of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ends. Yuqi and Momo stare at you with equally concerned looks.
“Um, are you good, babe?” Momo asks. Yuqi sits up from the couch and grabs the remote to change it to something else.
You sniffle as you shove another red vine in your mouth. “I’m fine.”
“So you’re not good.” Momo shakes her head. 
Yuqi gets on the floor and places an arm over your shoulder. “You need to allow yourself to be vulnerable again, babe. You’re allowed to love someone again.” 
“Love? You think I love Minho?”
“Is the Nile a river?”
“Yes?” 
“Then yes. If you don’t tell him how you feel you’re going to regret it.”
“But it was just sex.”
“It’s never just sex.” Momo says as she rolls her eyes. 
“It was supposed to be…”
Yuqi takes hold of your shoulders to face her. “And now you’re both madly in love with each other so what are you going to do about it? Keep pushing him away or love him back for as long as he’ll have you?”
“I’m scared.”
“News flash, we all are.”
“You and Jisung don’t seem scared.” 
“Of course I’m scared! I think I may have found the love of my life, but we’re both young, in college and I know not all relationships last after graduation. But I’m also not going to sit and dwell on the potential hurt I may have to endure in the future. I’d rather put my energy into loving him and being with him.” You place your chin on your knees and ponder her words. She wipes a few stray tears from your cheeks. “I’m going to pop some more popcorn and you’re going to put a sickeningly cheesy happy movie on because I cannot sit through this depressing shit again.” You sniffle and nod. Clicking through the options, you finally land on You’ve got Mail. 
Yuqi returns from the kitchen and sees your choice for the next movie. “Oh, I love this one!” She excitedly sits next to Momo, looping the girl’s arm with hers. Momo groans and tries to pull away.
Click.
-
It had been a week since Minho confessed his feelings for you. Unable to give him an answer, Minho takes your silence to mean one thing: Rejection. And not what it really was: Cowardice. After Minho asked for you to keep your distance from him, you took the easy way out and did your best to steer clear. Though it was a little challenging to completely avoid Minho with him living above you and all. However, after another week things start to fall back to how they were before you became friends with your neighbors and everyone was too busy focusing on finals anyway. Whenever you ran into the boys, you often asked them how Minho was, but not wanting to betray him they wouldn't say much. It’s not that the boys were mad at you, they just didn’t really know what to say anymore when they saw you. Outside of Jisung and Felix who still remained friendly, the rest were just polite.
Once finals had concluded, you could feel the levity in the air. The campus buzzed with students leaving their last class of the semester. You knew everyone would be heading home soon for the summer and bile began to rise in your throat as you realized it was now or never if you didn’t want to lose Minho for good. There was a chance the boy wouldn’t forgive you considering you hadn’t spoken in weeks, but you missed him. You missed him so much that you found yourself struggling to make it through each day . You missed feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the heaviness of his gaze on your face. You had grown accustomed to his presence and you knew you had fallen in deep. Finally coming to a decision, you put your metaphorical big girl pants on and dart back to the house. When you arrive, you run into Jisung on the porch.
“Y/n! Hey! Happy end of spring semester.” He flashes his gummy smile.
“Hi, Ji. Is Minho here?”
“Oh…no. He actually just left.”
“Left? Left for where?”
“Home.”
“Home?! Like home, home?”
“Yes?”
You look around in frustration. “How long ago did he leave?”
“Um maybe 15-20 minutes ago for the airport? Y/n, is everything okay?” 
“Ji, I have to go.” You leave Jisung in a state of confusion as you head for your car. 
“Y/n, he's just leaving for summer break?” Too late, you're already taking off for the parking lot behind the house and don’t hear Jisung calling after you. You punch in the directions to the airport and whip out of the lot like your life depends on it. 
The airport is small. Only one flight to the main city and back so luckily it doesn’t take you long to get to the gate, but you run anyway, completely ignoring the stares. 
You finally spot him in line for the flight to Philadelphia and shout his name “LEE MIN HO!” Everyone within earshot turns around and looks at you along with the boy you have fallen for. He tilts his head, eyes widening in complete shock and confusion. You run over to him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 
Minho pulls you aside and away from the onlookers. “Y/n, what are you doing here?” He can feel his ears redden. 
“You were just going to leave without saying anything?” You say breathlessly, realizing you should probably start working out again. 
“Y/n. I’m just going home to visit my parents for the summer.” 
Right… Before you lose any courage you blurt out “I like you!”
“Oh…”
“I didn’t want to. I tried so hard not to like you, but I failed.”
Minho drops his hands from your shoulders.  “I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance?” 
“No, dummy, I’m trying to confess my feelings for you.” Minho makes an “o” face as he comprehends. “You’re doing great, princess. Keep going.” He smirks and signals for you to continue. You throw him a threatening look as he bites his lip to hold back his smile.
You clear your throat as you try to refocus. “I hurt you, Minho. I didn't mean to, but I let my fears get the better of me instead of just trusting you. I know we’re young. I know this could end in tears, but I am going to be brave and not focus on the scary things. I…I want…” Minho looks at you encouragingly as your words catch in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut trying to swallow back your cowardice. 
“Y/n?”
Your eyes fly open and you nearly shout, “I want to date you too!” Minho stifles a giggle at your outburst. “That’s what I should have said back at the cafe. That’s what I wanted to say, but I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay.” He pulls you into his arms.
“I’m sorry for being so foolish.”
“We were both fools.” 
You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around him. “But I have to warn you, once I hold on to someone I don’t let go, so yeah, I guess you’re basically stuck with me.”
“Sounds like a dream,” he says, patting your head. 
“Til death do us part then.” 
His eyes fly open. “Jesus, Y/n. Why does that sound like a threat?” You laugh teasingly. 
He shakes his head and places his forehead on yours. “You’re crazy.” 
“You’re normal.” 
Minho smiles and whispers into your lips, “I like you.”
“사랑해요” You finally admit to him. 
You try to pull Minho into a kiss, but he interrupts the moment. “Sorry, but did you really just run through this tiny airport to confess to me like we’re in a Nora Ephron movie or something?”
“Yes.”
“Ew, that is so lame.” You punch his arm. “Ouch!” He laughs while he holds his arm.
“I take it back.” You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand whipping you back around and into his arms again. He kisses you tenderly and you smile into his mouth as the warmth of his lips close in on you. Minho looks into your eyes seriously this time. “I love you too, princess.” He kisses the tip of your nose and you smile as tears start to pool. 
A female voice blasts over the intercom, Last call for flight to Philadelphia. Minho looks over at the attendant checking people in then looks back at you. “That’s my cue.” The two of you embrace one more time before he grabs his bag to leave. You watch as he shows his boarding pass and walks through the gate. Your heart tightens in your chest as the warmth from his touch dissipates.
“Y/n!” Minho shouts suddenly into the crowd. You stand on your tippy toes as his fellow passengers start to block your view. “You complete me!” He makes a heart above his head and laughs.
“Oh my god, shut up!” Your face heats up. 
“I love you,” he shouts one last time before disappearing into the tunnel to board his flight. Sitting on the bench, you watch as Minho’s flight eventually takes off. You do your best to stifle the tears threatening to fall. Once the plane is no bigger than an ant in the sky you decide it’s time to head home. 
-
You park your car and climb out to head inside the house. Minho sent you a text just before take off promising to message you once he landed in Philly and eventually in Seoul. Clutching your phone to your chest in anticipation, you make your way to your apartment. Jisung spots you from the window and pops out onto the back deck to call out to you. “Did you get him?”
You give him the biggest smile and nod. “Yeah, I got him.” 
“About time.” Jisung rolls his eyes affectionately before giving you a wink and disappearing back into the house. While you have no idea what's going to happen between you and Minho, for once, you are no longer afraid.
FIN.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who read my first fic/fic series. I know I have a lot of room for improvement, but I really enjoyed this. Maybe it feels out of left field, but I decided to make the ending cheesy because I had it in my head that the boys are really big rom com fans and our main character is not. Since our MC had been emotionally stunted from her parent’s divorce and previous relationship, I wanted her to make a ridiculous grand gesture because 1. she knows the boys are cheesy romantics and 2. to also finally put her trauma aside and allow herself to love Minho. Slightly going to miss them, even though Y/n was a pain in the ass at times.
MASTERLIST
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Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ana-marais98 @aller-geese @stayandot8 @flowersun @jisuperboard @jisunglyricist
xx
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neteyamslovrr · 10 months
Text
RETURN - PT 4
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summary: five years ago he left you. left you alone with nothing but memories of your love. so how dare he come back now?
contents: 1k words (very short), fem!reader,
authors note: i am so so so sorry it has taken me so long, and this chapter is so short but i need to figure out more BUT i needed to give you smthn @cinetrix made the header pic, he looks so delicious yumyum
previous / next
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The Omatikaya said that the river washes away your worries much like the calming embrace of a mother. A comforting stroke just like the rushing water running across your body.
So that is exactly where you went to escape. To let yourself float in the water. Letting it run across your face momentarily so you could indulge in the beautiful feeling.
It is a place you have found yourself go to more often. Your shared tent with Va’tep growing with more and more tension each day.
It wasn’t as if there had been a fight between the two of you. But Va’tep had grown bitter. Mean looks and hushed hisses. For a man of great status he had the emotional maturity of a toddler.
He knew about the mending connection between you and Neteyam. Anyone could see the rekindling flames burning between the two of you. It was angering for him.
To think that you could embarrass him like this. As is you were not his. Not Neteyam’s. No that ship had sailed.
And those growing furies within Va’tep shoved you far away. Far into this river, and further into Neteyam’s heart.
“What are you doing?” His voice was soft, so sweet yet deep. It erupted fire within you, one that not even the water surrounding you could put out.
Sitting up in a slight shock, your legs resting on the harsh ground below the water. “I was relaxing.”
“You can continue” He chuckled, submerging himself in the water beside you. “What have you been doing today? I didn’t seen you in camp this morning.”
You shrugged in response, sitting up beside him. “I’ve been here all day.”
“Hm? Any reason?” Neteyam knew you were feeling down. He could see it in your sunken shoulders and slight frown.
“Just…didn’t want to be there.” A vague response only probing Neteyam to ask more questions.
“Be honest with me…” He whispered, his slender hand touching yours with a comforting gaze.
With a long hesitant silence you looked into Neteyam’s eyes, your own glazed with tears. “It is Va’tep… it’s unbearable living with him.”
“What do you mean…?” Neteyam asked, his hands pulling you closer to him. “What is he doing?”
You caressed his hand. “He’s just…he’s so hostile. Being with you like this…It is hurting him.”
Neteyam scoffed. “The only thing it hurts is his pride. Which I will hurt more if he doesn’t grow up.” You shook your head as Neteyam tilted your chin to gaze up at him. “Whenever you are ready…We can approach him. I’m not letting you suffer with him for this long.”
“You let me suffer long enough.” Whenever you brought up Neteyam’s five year long absence it leaves a sting in both of your hearts. But Eywa was Neteyam doing everything in his power, with all his might to get back to how you were before. It was his one goal to recover the heart he tore apart.
“I will never let you suffer again. Please my sevin (pretty), let me help you.” He was so close to you, hands grazing your thighs, begging to bring you chest to chest.
You froze. You want nothing more than to let yourself let him into your heart. But there was moral turmoil running through you every time his soft fingers grazed your skin. “I want you to.. I really do. But-” You stopped yourself letting out a loud sigh.
“But?” Neteyam looked at you, stare full of love. “I will fight anyone who gets in our way. It is my fault Va’tep is promised to you. I will get you out of this.”
“Neteyam…” It was hushed, struggling and scratching to escape your throat. He nodded eagerly. “I cannot face my parents…I cannot be their only daughter who defies their wishes.”
“They wouldn’t wish for you to be unhappy.” You simply shook your head.
“I can’t- Neteyam…I don’t know what to do” You started to tear up, lips quivering as Neteyam gasped.
“Hey…hey. It’s okay…I’ll sort this out.” Neteyam hushed you, bringing you into his embrace, the lake sloshing around your bodies as his hands soothed your back. “I’ll make everything okay.”
And he vowed to do so.
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It was a couple days after, you cried in his arms. He hadn’t talked to you since, you were avoiding him due to embarrassment.
He understood, it was taking you a lot to open up to him like this after all these years. And he would do everything in his power to make sure he can make you feel comfortable and safe with him forever.
Neteyam had only had restless nights. He couldn’t shake away the thoughts of you being with Va’tep and how miserable you were with him. He wanted you to be happy whether that was single or with Neteyam. Preferably, with him.
But while he lay still, his hammock rocking him gently to the rhythm of the breeze, an idea finally hit him. He understood the only reason Va’tep was to mate with you was because it was your parents. And the only reason Va’tep stayed with you was because of his pride and his ego.
What if Neteyam were to take it away from him? To make it so that Va’tep is no longer the most honourable mate for you? And to strip away his pride so it cannot shackle you down into a loveless mating.
Maybe he was crazy to think if this. What could he possibly do to make Va’tep truly lose his mightiness in the eyes of your parents. And what could Neteyam do that wouldn’t make his family need to run away from the clan again…This is the chief’s brother we’re talking about.
But you were the most important thing to ever talk about. You were his top priority, his one and only purpose on this planet. Your voice was a symphony and it mellowed out every poor note around him. He swore on the Great Mother he would fix this huge mess he had caused.
Full of fiery passion he erupted out of his hammock, drawing up plans and splaying thoughts onto the dirt below him. You asked him to show you how to let go of the past. And he was determined to help you grab onto the future. Your future. Each other's future.
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once again thankyou my beautiful doves <33 youre interactions are my motivation thankyou sm for reading
tags: @notsaelty @mommyneytiri @hannabanana-09 @gloryavila @peachinsominac @jaidalise @neqeyam @hello222sthings @tsuteysyawntu @neyetams @yhern05 @emjeez @adaiasafira @kiri-tuk @yaya6765 @biscuitbeater15 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @plooloo @savvysscandles @dilucslilmeowmeow @69cocktimusprime @newjeansbonnie @chatoicboy @pinkpantheris @plzfeedmebread @afro-hispwriter @lollife1617 @goddesslilithmoriarty @cinetrix @grierpilots @melsunshine @valentineheartzz @tsveria @mikeyswifie @junnniiieee07 @wifeyofeveryone @baebinana @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @neteyamssbaby @taleiak @cheyehc @shoyos-sugarbaby @be3flow3r
everything taglist: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @hana-yuri @solanare @s-surreality @aerangi @papichulo120627 @bellstwd @sussybaka10 @oceanstar19 @sharkybabe9 @arminsgfloll @bakugouswaif
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strwbmei · 1 month
Note
In the spirit of me fucking up my knee, could I request a short thing of Keqing/HSR Bronya princess carrying an injured reader?
~Teeth
(Also heya how’s it going?)
Hello, Teeth!! It's been a while! A lot has happened. Normally I'd say that I hope you've been doing well, but the fucked up knee speaks for itself. Not sure how you hurt your knee exactly or how bad it is, so I apologize if anything written here is medically unsafe/incorrect!
Keqing would go full asian mom style. She'd scold you for being careless, saying things like "I told you to be careful!" and to "stop being so reckless!" while dressing your injury. Her words sting, but you can tell that she cares with how careful she's being with you. Also, she insists on carrying you the same way a few days even after you've recovered. Acts strict, but you can get away with a lot more with her during the time that you're recovering. She'll even let you use her lap as a pillow.
"Ow!" You hiss in pain as Keqing tightens the makeshift bandage around your knee. She glares up at you, eyes full of disappointment and irritation, yet also with a hint of worry that only you could discern. "Well, maybe if someone wasn't being such an idiot..."
"Still, be more gentle! You're dealing with an injured person here, y'know?" You complain, and the other woman rolls her eyes in response. "I'm sure it isn't as bad as you make it out to be if you still have the energy to whine."
Suddenly, Keqing stands up and lifts you into her arms with ease, carrying you bridal style as she starts walking. You yelp in surprise. "What are you-"
"Taking a certain idiot to the infirmary." You sort of just stare at her awestruck because she's rarely so... gentle? It's hard to find the right words to describe it, but you're sure this kind of opportunity is rare.
"What, you think I'd let you walk around with an injured knee?"
"Honestly, yeah, a little bit." As soon as you said those words without thinking, you were sure she'd put you down out of annoyance and tell you that you're free to go to the infirmary yourself, but she only stays silent.
"Whatever. Just... don't worry me again like that, okay?"
Bronya... would definitely overreact. There's no other way to word it. Her expression would be akin to a wounded puppy. She'll have all of the best doctors in Belobog taking care of you and the most luxurious bed for you to lay on even if your injury isn't that bad. Qlipoth bless her soul if the doctors even mention the possibility of your injury permanently impairing you, because she is most definitely going into cardiac arrest. After you recover, she makes it a point to ensure every place in Belobog is accessible to people who can't walk.
Although Bronya works as the Supreme Guardian, she's spent most of her life on the battlefield and she's learned many useful techniques from her experience. One of them is basic medical care.
She's not a professional, but her know-how has saved a few comrades' lives. Still, Bronya most certainly didn't expect that she'd have to use this skill of hers on you of all people.
"Bronya... I'm okay now. Really." You say; an attempt to console the very obviously distressed woman in front of you. With how much she's frowning, anyone that saw her would think that she was the one with an injury.
"No." Bronya responds, and honestly, this is the first time you've heard her so... stern. She knows that you aren't lying, but she sure as hell isn't risking your wound getting worse. "We need to get you to a doctor."
On second thought, it's too dangerous to move you around; it'd be better to have a doctor come here themselves. Still, the nearest doctor is much too far away, so Bronya decides to carry you there instead.
As soon as she picks you up, her mind races with a million thoughts all at once. What if it leaves a scar? What if you aren't able to walk normally again? Aeons forbid, what if you won't be able to walk at all? However dramatic, just the thought has her heart sinking.
She senses your unease and takes a deep breath, pressing a small kiss to your forehead. Perhaps her emotions have gotten the better of her. "I'm sorry, my love. You know how I worry for you." She smiles reassuringly. Whether she's trying to reassure you or herself, you don't know.
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indigoflorals · 1 year
Note
could you do something with Rafe taking care of yn after stomach surgery? I’m having it done tomorrow!!
in sickness and health (18+)
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rafe cameron x reader
sum: your husband cares for you as you recover from surgery
warnings: sexual language, making-out, kissing, lots of fluff, established relationships, sickness
a/n: little blurb for my love @illicitfixations
Your back ached from your position in bed. It was late afternoon and you had been lying there all day. Today was your surgery and everything had gone exceptionally well. Really, all that troubled you was having lie around for so long.
Your husband, Rafe, lavished the opportunity to finally pamper you the way he felt you deserved. He was at your every beckon call, pacing back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen incase you needed something.
“Baby?” He called from just beyond the doorframe.
You attempted to sit up to call to him, but found yourself too weak. Your throat was tired from being intubated and talking took too much effort.
Rafe stepped beyond the door into your shared bedroom, worry spread across his features. You smiled. So protective. That was your husband. He’d take the pain for you in a heartbeat.
“Is everything okay beautiful?” He stepped to your bedside before reaching down to cup your cheek. “Can I get you something?”
You shook your head, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes. His skin was warm and he smelled faintly of cigarettes. You exhaled as he sat down beside you.
“My love,” He cooed, gently pulling you to lay against his chest, “Tell me what’s going on?”
His back against the headboard and your back against his chest, the two of you sat in silence for a moment.
“Hurts.” you mumbled, “I’m sore.” You ghosted your hand over the bruise on your stomach. Such a small incision had left you with such a big bruise. You hated it.
Rafe pulled you closer to him, kissing your forehead. “I’m so sorry love. It’s healing up.”
You looked to him, meeting the same blue eyes that always looked to you with such love. He smiled sympathetically before giving you another peck on the nose.
Making eye contant again, you looked to his lips and back. You felt like a flirty teenager lying there with him. Your husband. Rafe reached to grasp your face softly, tilting your lips up to brush against his. Your heart fluttered as he pulled you into a soft, loving kiss.
His lips were warm and soft against yours, like honey butter. They invited you to taste more and more of him as you swiped your tongue against his bottom lip.
A deep moan reverberated through your husbands chest as he held you to him. The kiss was passionate and full of the love you shared for one another. His hand found your hair, slotting his fingers in just below your scalp to massage there. You hummed, contented, as you slouched further back into him.
Slowly, Rafe pulled away from you. You loved seeing him this way. His hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen and pink. His eyes were trained on you in that moment, ready to follow your lead into anything.
“Beautiful,” he mumbled, brushing his lips against yours as he spoke, “My beautiful wife.”
You knew your face had to be red in that moment. Despite being in recovery, Rafe knew how to make you feel gorgeous and sexy.
You giggled, pecking him on the lips again. “My husband.”
Rafe’s face flushed at your words. Your husband. He would do anything for you. Anything to hear you call him that all day long. Anything to hear you moan it for him when you were better.
“It’s time for your antibiotics,” he began to shift out from behind you, lying you down in the process, “I’ll get em.”
You relaxed back into the bed, taking in the scent of him as it flooded your nostrils. His smell covered the pillows and blankets and enveloped you as you lied in it.
Peaceful. Recovery was going to be peaceful with the person you trusted most by your side.
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anna-scribbles · 1 year
Note
hey anna! the wait for kwami’s choice part 2 truly is abysmal and it’s so hard to navigate through the tag with all the leaks about, do you have any fic recs to tide us over until gloob puts us out of our misery?
not only do I have fic recs, I also have way too much to do rn and therefore will spend an inordinate amount of time crafting a detailed rec list for you 😘 (we can also just consider this my 2022 ao3 wrapped lol)
goes without saying perhaps, but ANYTHING by @peachcitt is gold and also uniquely devastating, some of my particular favorites being:
metamorphosis - 97k, enemies, sleepovers, you get it. i'm normal
those benevolent stars - 23k, ladrien thief/prince/soulmates au. what more do I even need to say
chat noir's white french man hit list for feminist purposes - 7k, hilarious and devastating, this fic is a child to me
double dare - 32k, ladrien, absolutely everything. cemented my friendship w/ peach bc I had to scream at her everyday abt it
I thought the plane was going down - 11k, attuned to my tastes specifically, adrinette having a History while on airplanes
@carpisuns also puts out banger after banger like it's her dayjob, specializing in understanding the ridiculous nature of the lovesquare to such a degree and also being the funniest person alive. some of my faves from her are:
tell me something I don't know - 120k, the marichat fic EVER, mar's dissertation on lovesquare and guess what she's right
pink - 14k wip, adrien loves marinette, SOFT
two idiots and a hamster (collab with @botherkupo) - 24k, adrinette roommates, makes me cry laugh
@picayunearts is a goddess on earth. she bends word and image flawlessly to her will. recently she has enraptured me with
final girl - 41k, marichat, au where marinette succeeds in giving up her miraculous to alya in origins. INCREDIBLE marinette character study
@rosekasa invented ladynoir and i'm not afraid to say it. check out everything on her ao3 but just note the following
when things were good - 15k wip, breakup fic/post hawkmoth takedown, has been ruining me in a SPECIAL way
new marinette 12k, post-guardianship memory loss marinette, a classic
like poles of a magnet - 12k, enemies au, hurts my feelings
ya'aburnee - 13k, ladynoir, HURTS ME VERY MUCH. I'VE NOT RECOVERED
@buggachat's fics always feel like i'm attending a course on adrien and marinette's true characterizations explained to me by someone with a PhD in lovesquare and I walk away enlightened. she has an incredible gift for storytelling and just Getting It. anyway read
maintaining a professional distance - 43k, ladynoir hotel room shenanigans, god-tier characterization
when you're near 10k, ladynoir dating but adrinette have never met, a classic
@sha-nwa should honestly quit her career and write lovesquare fanfiction for me full time. proof:
the way I loved you - 68k, marichat break up fic, will be cemented into my mind forever
photograph - 1k, sweet adrinette, abby loves making me cry
things WOULD be amiss if I did not mention @officialratprince (carolinaa on ao3) bc their fics derailed my homework schedule on several occasions last semester, though I'll be honest that their fics are not for the faint of heart or those who wish adrien agreste to have a good time. my faves are
I will take it / it can't go wrong series - 3 fics at 16k, 25k, and 39k, adrien's journey through experiencing child abuse and his friends being there for him, culminating in gabriel's court trial
home sick - 14k wip, adrien gets pneumonia and Everything Is Really Bad
other various fics I love for various reasons:
how hawkmoth got his groove back series by @agrestenoir - 2 fics at 3k and 1k, one of my favorite crack fics i read last year. had me crying laughing
1 step forward, 3 steps back by agnes writes - 10k, breaks my heart every time I read it. also makes me legitimately angry at adrien while still keeping him in character which is a feat in and of itself
the last day on earth by reiaji - 10k, chat blanc keeps happening as marinette gets older, I am incapable of not recommending this fic
okay now go forth and don't do your work<3
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spicyclover · 1 year
Text
Injured
Summary: Lance got hurt but is desperate to compete in the Bahrain Grand Prix. You strongly disagree and see that he’s struggling to recover.
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!
Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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“The year is starting well,” you think, slamming your apartment door. Despite his injury, Lance has decided to go for the grand prize, which severely handicaps him. You’ve spent a hell of a week between the hospital, the endless rehab sessions to get him over the edge so he can recover as soon as possible, and your crappy week at work. Got to say, arriving Sunday when he told you he was leaving for the grand prize, you got upset.
That’s why a big fight broke out, and he left the apartment with his suitcase and without a look, without a kiss, nothing. You can’t believe he will endanger his life or someone else’s to just drive a car. You like Formula One, but there are limits. He’s been unable to eat alone for a week. And now, he wants to race around a circuit for 57 laps. “Unbelievable!” Injuries do not heal in a day.
It pains you that he’s gone mad at you, and you're mad at him. Yet your ego is too strong for you to take the first step this time. You want to prove your point. His assistant wrote you when they arrived in Bahrain. 
You’re relieved to know he’s safe, but nipple as you are, you didn’t answer anything. Leaving a sight to his assistant, knowing full well that Lance asked him to do it. Still, he knows you won’t sleep unless he tells you he’s safe and on dry land. 
Wednesday arrives, and you are already exhausted. You no longer sleep, and your days at work are a nightmare. You’re in a terrible mood, with dark circles as big as the moon and eyes as red as a tomato.
You turn on the TV to watch the first days of media and see that Lance is just as tired as you. Tears are returning for the hundredth time today, and you can’t take it anymore. You begin to search for your favourite hoodie. It was one Lance offered you for your birthday with written in big “Mrs.Strulovitch.” Really cheesy, but you love it and wear it whenever you need comfort.
But you look everywhere, and it is nowhere to be found. You pick up your phone and click on Lance’s conversation to ask him where he is, but you hold back. You sigh loudly when you throw your cell out of your reach. You have only one desire, and it is that he speaks to you. Just a sign from him.
Thursday’s no better. You’re not even going to work because you don’t have the energy to do anything. You’re wondering how long Lance will last without talking to you, and you’re almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
You’ll only know how he’s doing through Aston Martin’s Instagram account. “It’s still serious that we got here.” You reload the page of your phone every thirty seconds hoping to get images of Lances that reach you. Free practices 1 and 2 have passed, and the car is at the front of the grid, which is incredible. Alonso does an exceptional job, but all you notice is that Lance has trouble with his hands. Being unable to hold his wheel correctly, in turn, is the worst.
At the end of his day, you finally decide to write to him. You ask him how he is and if his injury doesn’t hurt too much. You hesitate to tell him you miss him, but you do it anyway. After all, you’re taking the first step.
You’ve been waiting all day for an answer, but nothing. It’s Friday morning, and you pack up to join him in Bahrain. You take the first flight available. The whole flight, all you did was bite your fingernails at why he didn’t answer you and didn’t take the first step. “Does he still love me? Does he have anyone else?” This trip is torture. You only have one hurry to get here as soon as possible and clear things up with Lance.
You jump into a taxi and order him to take you to the circuit. You get the pass, which his assistant sent you the week before. You walk through the hospitals with determination, ignoring everyone who gets in your way. You trace to the green building.
You come in like a fury and head straight for Lance’s room. Nobody stops you, but they all know who you are. You open the door with a bang, but Lance is not there. You come back, look in the common air for a familiar face, and see his coach.
“Where is he?”
“Hello to you too, yes I’m fine and you?”
“I don’t have time for this,” you say, apologizing quickly.”Where is the idiot that happens to be my boyfriend?”
“He’s in the garage with the mechanics.” He sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. 
“Thank you.” You head out. 
“Y/n?” Yell his coach once again. You face him. “I don’t know what happened between you, but please, please, make him nicer.” 
You nod, and you go out. You get to the garage and see him in the distance. He talks to his team. All the anger you have accumulated since the beginning of the day fades away, and you look softer. You step towards him lightly.
You wait for him to finish talking and turn around so you can do the first thing that goes through your head. You slap him before kissing him in the mouth. All your frustration evaporates for real, and you slowly back away. Lance is shocked. Actually, you think he doesn’t even know it was you. 
He blinks several times, making big eyes.
“I hate being in a fight with you!”
“Y/n.”
“Like you didn��t even respond to my message last night! I was worried sick.”
“Y/n.”
“I know I was harsh on you, but you’re in pain, and I don’t want to see you like this.”
“Y/n.”
“I love you, okay? I don’t want my husband to injure himself more because of his stubbornness. I know I’m selfish when I ask you not to go, but something, Lance, you don’t always have to go.”
“Y/n.” He stroked your cheek softly. 
“I haven’t slept in five days. I just want to sleep, and I want to cuddle with you.” You take his hand and kiss his band-aid.
“Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.”
“What?”
“Stop talking, he says, kissing you with passion. “I love you, but sometimes you speak too much” He chuckles, taking you to his driver's room. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you, but I could use my hands yesterday. I know I’m hurt, but we have a great car this year, and I can’t not be here.”
You sigh but embrace him. You’re happy to finally be in his arms and that he’s okay-ish. You don’t want him to compete, but he’ll do it anyway. 
“I don’t want us to fight like this anymore.”
“Me too. I love you, Y/n.” 
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sparrowrye · 2 months
Text
Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 23
Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.
Previous part
Part 23: the starting works
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I lowered my head so the sun didn't blind me through the brush. My nose flared as I drew in my prey's scent. They were completely unaware of my presence, unaware that their life was about to end. My claws punctured the soft earth and I leaned back on my haunches.
I sprang.
My bad leg pinched, causing me to land a hair before my prey. They jumped and zipped through the forest with a squeal. I gave chase on all fours until I was in my full dragon form. I weaved through the trees with ease as I ignored the small pains throughout my body. I wasn't fully recovered but that couldn't stop me.
My prey tripped and rolled several paces. I lunged and landed firmly on its head. I stepped back to look at the dead rabbit. It's energy faded from its body and snaked its way through my nose and into my head. I felt ready to keep running.
I laid down and sank my teeth into the soft, fuzzy flesh. The blood pooled in my mouth and oozed down the back of my throat. It wasn't nearly as good as a Demon's blood. It was thinner and had a bitter taste to it. It was like the comparison of eating bone broth to actual soup. It soothed the hunger pains but wasn't actually filling.
It had been a week after my incident. I would wake up in the middle of night craving the blood. I had dreams and nightmares about the killing, even messing with my memories from the ring fights. The nightmares were horribly gruesome and I couldn't believe that my mind was actually producing these images. I was eating limbs and sucking blood until their skin went pale. I was horrified at myself.
I mostly felt the cravings at night or early in the morning after my gruesome dreams. After the second day I was pulling out my hair and trying to suck on my own blood just to stop it. It actually hurt when I didn't have anything. It felt like my veins were being thinned and my muscles would tense until they were rock solid.
Fortunately, in my fit of furry, I had run into the forest and caught a bat between my fangs. Its blood instantly soothed the tense muscles and I felt like I could breathe again. So I made it a habit to go hunting in the mornings for small creatures like rabbits or squirrels. A single creature could suffice the hunger pains for the day until the following morning.
Husker knew what was happening. When I asked him about it, he told me that he didn't have this issue. It was something he knew Alastor had to deal with as well, hence his broadcasts and constant victims.
Another wonderful thing I get to share with him.
I asked Husker to keep my hunting a secret from Alastor. He was always making comments about my 'desires' and I wasn't about to let him know he was actually right. So Husker sat on the porch and waited for me to return every morning.
I swallowed the last of the rabbit and forced myself to feel satisfied, to no avail. I shifted into my Demon form and wiped my lips of the bitter blood. My eyes blinked back to their normal color.
****
Husker and I sat in the library with a radio on the desk. Outside was wet and cold. A rainstorm had come through from the sea and pelted the side of the house relentlessly. It knocked on the library windows, unable to get in. Husker was changing the radio stations every so often.
The broadcast about Demon-kind had aired only a few days ago. Everyone was in an uproar. Vox had used his broadcast to show them the physical difference between Slight magic, Full magic, and Demon magic. Alastor's had been more informative and gave more finite details.
Humans weren't happy. There were countless radio shows and other tv news where the reporters went back and forth about the topic. Some people were angry that they kept the truth hidden for hundreds of years, while others were angry that Demons were showing their true forms around and acting 'above them'. In my opinion, Demons always did that but people just assumed it was a personality trait.
We always kept the radio nearby to listen in. Some cities tried banning Demons and those with Full magic as a whole. Others formed groups to hunt them down but it didn't last very long. Overlords had enough manpower and magic to stop any hunting party, making others less willing to try that tactic again.
Even so, the death rate in this nation skyrocketed. From hunting parties to riots to territory battle to everything, people and Demons alike were getting killed.
This stirred up a lot of political issues too. On this part of the map, towns and cities operated much in the same way and all followed standard protocols for everything - something created long ago before the Great Collapse. Now, rules were being changed left and right without warning and proper justice wasn't so proper anymore.
According to Alastor everything was going as planned. The disruption and confusion left the Humans divided, meaning most of the Demon population was safe.
Most.
I didn't realize how many were dying, or how exactly, until I received a visit from the princess of Hell herself. She, Vaggie, Husker, and Alastor were chatting in the sitting room when I walked down the stairs. She greeted me with a hug and insisted I call her Charlie instead of princess. Fortunately, she was moving so fast that I didn't have to figure out how to return the hug. It still made me uncomfortable.
"Finally, someone who actually cares about Demon-kind," Vaggie remarked, casting a glare in Alastor's direction. He stood with his arms behind his back, like always, and his smile widened at her comment.
"Did something happen?" I asked. I was in my Human form as were Charlie and Vaggie.
"Hell is getting overrun with Demons," Charlie answered, "It was already overpopulated but now there's more and more Demons running back to escape Humans."
"The humans haven't rioted though. Sure some towns are doing it but nothing big," I said.
"It's been fairly decent from what we've heard on the radio," Husker added.
"Not in other places around the world," Vaggie said.
"Across the ocean Humans are coming together and hunting down anyone with Full magic." She looked so pained as she spoke. "Full magic Humans are being killed left and right, and Demons are running back to Hell and making it way overcrowded."
"What's uh...what's...what's your father doing?" I asked, unsure of how I was supposed to refer to him.
"He's locked in his room trying to figure out a way to handle it. Buildings are being built way high up to accommodate more people and some Overlords are straight up just killing anyone who walks in their territory."
"I don't see the problem," Alastor interjected, "Hell's Overlords surely sound like they're doing their part. I know Cannibal Town is doing well."
"That's not the point!" Charlie and I said at the same time, in different tones. Hers was more ecstatic and mine was a growl. Everyone looked between the two of us, just as shocked as we were. Niffty broke the silence as she chased a bug through the sitting room.
"What about the ring fights?" I looked to Husker. "Are those still active or are they killing the champions? They tend to be Full mages."
Husker shrugged. "I know as much as you since we threw out my phone." After my incident, Husker immediately threw his phone into the ocean. We weren't about to risk him getting to me again. Apparently, Vox was trying to use me to force Alastor not to broadcast until after Vox had done his. I discovered this was a petty rivalry.
I scratched the back of my neck. "They probably killed any children who showed signs of having Full magic. Or even the police went after some rings and just killed any and all of the fighters. That would be the easy way to go about it."
"There has to be something we can do. Demons and innocent Humans are being killed. All because of us." Charlie put both hands over her chest and looked down. Vaggie put a hand on her shoulder as comfort.
I was surprised to see the princess of Hell acting like this. I was expecting her to be just as bad, if not worse, than the likes of Alastor. Yet here she was worrying over the death of Demons and Humans. It was hard to believe she was heir to throne of Hell.
A thought came to mind. My thought. This could be the perfect opportunity to separate from Alastor, to put my plan into action. It was way earlier than I expected but I wasn't about to pass it up.
"What about...a safe haven? A sanctuary of sorts?" I offered. Everyone's eyes fell on me. Alastor pressed through my shields as his eyes narrowed. "You've already done something similar."
"You mean make another hotel?" she asked.
"More like a city. Take over a city and let the persecuted come to us. There's more space up here to expand."
"And fix the relationship between Humans and Demons since even Full mage Humans are being attacked," Vaggie said.
"Yeah...yeah that could work!" Charlie's eyes lit up and she seemed to radiate sunlight.
"Defending it would be a problem, though," Husker sipped on his alcohol. "It paints a big red target for Humans to team up against."
"That's true." Charlie started to pace.
"Fear is a great tool for controlling people's actions," Alastor said, placing a hand on my shoulder. My fingers fluttered as our energy shot through my body. I plucked his hand off my shoulder as Charlie spoke.
"That's not really what we're trying to do..."
"But it might be necessary at first," Vaggie moved her hand to Charlie's back, "as much as I don't want to agree with him." Alastor's smile widened.
"The Radio and Snake Demon aren't exactly something most people want to piss off," Husker added. My pride swelled a little.
"Would people even want to come if they knew he was involved? Would they be too scared?" I questioned, positioning myself so I could see Alastor fully in view.
"Maybe not if we really push that he won't kill anyone at the Safe Haven," Vaggie crossed her arms as she looked at him.
"I make no such promises," he laughed, "but those in the Safe Haven would be far from the top of my list."
"Where would even have it?" I asked, ignoring him, "What city would we use?"
"We could build it here," Niffty appeared behind me. She twiddled into the middle of the circle and looked up at Charlie. "We have a big ocean behind us and a big forest between here and the closest town. Easily defendable." She spoke so quickly but everyone had managed to catch it.
"She's got a point." Husker took another sip.
"We'd have to actually build it here, though. As opposed to finding a city or even one of the old abandoned ones to use instead. We'd have a framework."
"True, but it might not be nearly as defendable," Vaggie reasoned. "Are those buildings even safe? I've seen all over social media about them collapsing from how old they are. Our buildings would be knew and could stand for much longer."
I opened my mouth to counter it but Charlie beat me to it, "We'll have to work out the logistics later. I need to talk to my dad first."
She and Vaggie went to the cliff and teleported back to Hell, leaving a different scorch mark in the earth. I closed the back door and walked right into Alastor who had been standing behind me.
"What?" I demanded.
"You had a similar plan, already."
My eyes narrowed as I tried to keep my cover. He must've seen my memories when we touched earlier. "And what if I did?" I pushed past him and walked through the library.
His shadow slipped past my feet and he formed in front of me, hands resting on his cane and his body leaning forward. "You still seem to think you belong anywhere but my side."
"I'm not a tool to be used, Alastor." It felt strange using his name like that. "My lifespan just got hundreds of years added onto it. You really think I want to spend all that time with you?" My heart was racing at the confrontation.
"I think you'll find it rather hard to live without me."
I braced for something as I walked past him to the stairs. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"
Without turning, he asked, "How are your cravings?"
I stopped in my tracks. His laugh made me grimace for stopping. Now he knew. Of course he would know. How long did I really think I could hide it?
"Those little animals aren't nearly as fulfilling, are they?" My ears twitched as I heard him walk up behind me. I turned to face him and he stretched a sharp claw towards my chin. "They just don't cut it. Wouldn't you agree?"
"No." I carefully pushed his hand away. "They work just fine."
He chuckled again and straightened up. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, darling. It's merely a diet."
"It's more than just that. And it is something to be ashamed of."
"What is the difference between a Human or Demon to a rabbit or squirrel?" he asked.
I fell silent. I didn't have an answer to her than that Humans and Demons were intelligent, that I had my own morals I was wrestling with already. Adding this just made things worse.
I was staring at the ground when he grabbed my chin and tilted it up towards him. The energy bounced between us again and I could tell he was getting a high from it. "You need only ask, darling, and I will provide you with what you need."
I jerked my head away, severing the contact. "I won't need it." I stormed up the stairs to my room.
"We shall see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
Well well well, here ya go. I have nothing to say except I really liked writing that last part :P
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lovearthur · 2 months
Note
hi there! I saw that your requests were open and wanted to see if you could write this fic for me!
so, I was thinking, Javier Escuella x Fem/GN!reader who is really attached to their horse, like REALLY attached, and one day there horse gets injured during something (like fighting O'Driscolls or a wolf attack or sum like that) and needs to rest and recover. Reader is full of anxiety and has been all over the place since and Javier, the kind soul he is, takes it upon himself to calm reader down and comfort them.
feel free to ignore if it's too much or you just simply don't want to write it!
-☀️⭐️
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𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒅𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒋𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . javier is a sweetheart:( . horse injury . reader being a huuge worry . google translations for spainish
cariño (dear) & mi nina bonita (my pretty girl)
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u were attached to ur horse, beth. like.. REALLLY attached. u adored her with every fibre of ur being.
which is understandable since ur lover, javier was the one who bought her for u. and u were forever grateful for it, too. ur horse is a beautiful brown and white shire, u absolutely love her to bits. u were always seen brushing her, feeding her, cleaning ur saddle.. everything. everyone knew how fond u were.
but unfortunately, she got injured. ur precious beth got injured. u were riding away quickly as possible while being chased down by wolves, only for one to be much too quick, and biting a aprt of her leg. luckily, u both got back to the camp with no more problems. u were overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety, how could u let her get hurt? out of all the folk in this gang? u got her injured. u kept telling urself it was all ur fault because... it was. ur mind was going crazy... what if she doesn't recover properly? what is she had a life problem afterwards? what if she doesn't like u anymore? what if... u didn't want to even think of that but u couldn't help it, u were so so worried for her. she was ur precious girl.
here u were now, walking back and forth near the campfire while javier was leaning back against a log, listening to u while u were rambling on and on about how worried u were for beth. ur horse was everything to u, u treated her like a real person sometimes... even talking to her knowing u wouldn't get a reply. u were scared, anxious, fretting...
"i know javi but what if- i wouldn't know what t'do with myself, she's such a special girl t'me 'nd-" oh, i dont know i jus' hope shes alrigh'." u felt ur voice shake a little, u were beginning to get ahead of urself and he noticed."hey, hey, hey, mi niña bonita.. im sure she's gonna rest jus fine. okay?" he says, trying his best to comfort u.. the sweetheart he is. he placed his hand on ur shoulder, looking into ur eyes. "ella esta bien, im sure." u look away from him, wanting to believe him badly but u weren't sure. "i know but 'm worried fer her. I've adored her ever since u bought her, jus' fer me." u reply as u look at him with a small pout and yet, u feel so lucky to be with him. he was always so respectful and gentle towards u.
"i know, cariño. i promise you she's gonna be okay. with you by her side the most." he says once more as his hands begin to caress ur hips. His words begin to slowly calm u down, he was right. She was gonna be okay, just fine and dandy. she was one strong girl, after grounding urself, u wrapped ur arms around his neck before u leaned in to kiss his neck. a giggle escapes ur lips as u looked at him, a red stain left on his rough skin.
"'m such a lucky girl, yer always so kind t'me." u say with that sweet smile of urs as ur fingers mindlessly play with his hair. "no, i think im the luckiest man to have you, amor."
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javier escuella... save me... javier escuella... i hope this wasn't so ooc or i would cry im so fond of him:((
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