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chuulyssa · 7 months

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drunk and driven. (light yagami)

↷ A/N ─ happy belated birthday to light and me !! i hope you enjoy this :) again, this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader is as sober as light here. written by a zombie-me at 4am. also im sorry if the camera topic is overused, i just couldnt help myself fantasizing about this

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, dom!light, drinking, smut, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, nicknames (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), edging, begging kink, voyeurism

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend punishes you for almost letting slip his real identity

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The dim glow of the television cast shadows around the room. You had been at your high school's farewell party, and had too many drinks there to stumble back home in one piece. It was almost midnight, so there was also no way your boyfriend, Light Yagami, would have let you out of his sight, especially with how tipsy you were. He was quite protective of you, but he was right. You let out a drunk sigh and looked away, silently accepting the fact that you'd have to meet his parents in the morning and share a few awkward exchanges.

Light had had more drinks than you at the party, but he looked far from as drunk as you currently were. He was quietly watching a movie on the TV, stroking your hair lightly. Your gaze went up from Light to the flickering screen. A sudden surge of courage rushed through you.

"Light," you whispered, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice.

"No, you're not going home tonight," Light replied without looking at you.

"No, it's not that," you said frustratedly.

Light raised his eyebrows, hearing you slur your words due to the effects of the alcohol. Still, he did not look at you.

"How much did you drink?"

"Less than what you drank," your throat burned, your eyes drooping slightly.

He ignored you, seemingly engrossed in the movie, but you knew it was all just an act for the cameras L had set up.

You continued, "And it doesn't matter how much I drank, because either way, you refuse to give me attention."

Ryuk snickered in the corner.

Light frowned, finally turning his attention towards you as his eyes trailed down your body. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the redness of your cheeks, and the slight swaying of your body.

He looked at you for a few more seconds with a calculating look before sighing and setting the remote on his table. He stood up, "You should really get some sleep."

"No," you repeated.

"I-" Light was starting to get annoyed. "Are you crazy? Don't you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I just- I-" You sighed again, leaning back against your chair and almost falling off.

"Idiot," Light muttered, catching you before you fell. He carried you to his bed and lay you down gently before covering you with his blanket. "Are you comfortable? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"No, no, I need cuddles," you smiled drunkenly, completely forgetting what you were going to say back when you had gotten some "courage".

"Of course, you do," Light said proudly. "You need my cuddles to sleep."

You hummed in response. As he snottily took his shirt off before lying down next to you, you closed your eyes slightly. They were burning, as if trying to stop you from both closing them and keeping them open.

His hands made their way to your back, gently pushing your neck to his bare chest. You finally shut your heavy eyelids and snuggled closer to him. This was what you always wanted. Just you and Light. Alone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still tightly shut, your face pressed against him. Alone? It was laughable that you thought even for a moment that you two were alone right now. Well, for one, there was a God of Death in the same room as you, trying not to pass out from the lack of apples in his digestive system. Second, a great detective was watching the two of you, possibly along with your boyfriend's own father.

Light pulled you even closer to him, inhaling your scent deeply. Soon, the two of you drifted off to dreamland, and L was left questioning whether the seventeen-year-old star student really was a murderer.

You woke up, limbs tangled with Light's. You checked your wristwatch. About four hours had passed, and as you tried to sit up, your head felt heavy from an early hangover. Light's eyes jerked open. He had always been a light sleeper.

"Hm?" he mumbled in his sleep, no longer feeling the presence of your head in the crook of his neck. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I... had a dream," you said slowly.

"Nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Light sat up slowly and reached out for a glass of water to hand to you.

You peeked into the glass, rubbing your left eye until you saw stars.

"Vodka?" you said hopefully.

"Water," he replied calmly.

You pouted pleadingly; more alcohol was what you needed right now, but you eventually had to resign to your boyfriend. You drank the water, and instantly felt much more sober than you were before. Your sleepy eyes fell on Ryuk, his legs and hands in a rather uncomfortable position, perhaps due to not having apples for such a long time.

For a moment, you, for the second time that night, completely forgot about the existence of the cameras.

You turned to Light. "How long is he going to go without apples?"

"Who, honey?" Light's eyes flashed warningly, but you were far too sleepy to notice.

"Ryuk, your Shini-"

Your words were cut off by a sharp kiss. Light had completely thrown himself at you, and you fell back down on the bed due to the sheer force of his abrupt kiss. The empty glass landed on the floor with a loud clink, but he ignored it. His hands reached under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as if daring you to talk further.

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows, to gain some kind of control over what was happening. But Light pushed you back down, pulling you by your hips and roughly throwing your head down on the pillow.

He pulled away eventually, the pupils of his eyes completely red, and you cursed yourself mentally. This was not your Light. This was Kira.

He leaned away from you, got up to pick up the thrown glass and filled it with water again, but as he offered it to you, you rejected it. "I'm sober enough for this, Light."

"Very well then," Light whispered and leaned in closer to your ear. "I hope you remember you're being watched. Make sure you put on a show."

You nodded slowly, letting his hands roam around and make their way to the hem of your skirt, twirling the fabric around his fingers. He brought another hand to your top and slid it under the cloth, feeling the material of your satin bra.

"The one I gifted to you?" he raised his eyebrows, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes," you whispered, pulling his bare chest against your clothed one. "Strip me, Light."

"What's the magic word?" he teased, hand slipping under your bra and cupping your breast.

"Please," you whimpered when he pinched your nipple.

Ryuk snapped his eyes open and tumbled out of the room clumsily, perhaps to give you some privacy.

"Good girl," he didn't hide his smirk this time as he pulled your top off completely, throwing it to the side where it landed on his chair next to his own shirt. He ran his hands down your back, grabbing the zipper of your skirt and slowly pulling it down. Light slid the skirt down your legs, leaving you in a matching set of satin underwear and bra.

"Pretty," he murmured, his hand grasping his growing bulge tightly.

"Let me help you with that," you sat up on all fours and leaned in closer, a hand stretched out to touch his crotch.

You rubbed him lightly, slowly increasing your pace before unbuckling his belt and slipping your hand under his boxers. Your constant touching of his tip made him groan, hand reaching out to yank you by your hair and push you back down to the bed. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your breasts, pressing them against your chest.

"Take my bra off."

"I'm not a man to be told what to do," he said, bringing his lips down to your neck. "But I will allow it this time."

Light freed his hands from your grip and brought them to your back, unclasping the hook of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your breasts in his hands, lowering himself so that his mouth sucked on one nipple while his hand squeezed the other.

"Fuck," you moaned, pushing his head against your chest.

He grabbed your hand and brought it once more to his crotch, letting you feel the bulge in his pants again.

"You're not the only one who's needy right now."

"You're so- god, I can't wait to feel you inside me," you said, rubbing his dick through the fabric.

"Patient girls are rewarded," he said, dragging his lips from your neck to your collarbone, his free hand ripping your panties off.

"Hey!" you whisper-screamed.

"I'll buy you another set," he said calmly, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot.

"Yes," you moaned, pushing his hand against your pussy. "Faster."

He brought his other hand from your nipple to your clit and started rubbing it in circles, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," you whimpered after a few minutes, feeling your orgasm build.

"Mhm, do it, what a good girl," he said, rubbing your clit faster, aiding your release. You came hard on his fingers, arching your back, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. Your legs shook, while he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them to your mouth. "Clean them."

You nodded, sucking on his fingers, your teeth digging into his skin. Light smirked.

"Don't you think you should be punished?"

"Huh-? For what, Li-?"

Your words were cut off once again when he pulled you onto his lap so that your ass faced him and you lay on your stomach, pussy pressed against his crotch.

_ _ _ _

"L, I don't think we should be watching this," Soichiro Yagami kept his eyes away from the screen, where his son, his perfect little son, was busy fingering his girlfriend. He hadn't even known he had a girlfriend, let alone the fact that they were so... intimate with each other.

"There has to be some meaning in what the girl said," L racked his brains, eyes scanning the scene, now showing you in Light's lap and his hand rubbing your ass. "Apples?"

"For god's sake, it may be some sort of safeword for when they- for when they do- this," Soichiro yelled, his eyes on the floor.

"It's not a mere coincidence, Mr Yagami," L said thoughtfully. "Apples? Kira told me 'Shinigamis' loved apples earlier. This is not a coincidence, Mr Yagami."

_ _ _ _

"You're going to be punished for fucking everything up," he whispered in your ear before smacking your ass hard. "Count."

"One!" you yelped, feeling the sting of his hand on your ass. "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!"

He kept spanking you, alternating between your ass cheeks. You could feel his dick hard against your stomach, and ignoring the pain in your ass, you started to grind against it.

"Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!"

He spanked you harder, and you could feel your ass getting red. You were breathing heavily, and your pussy was so wet that it was dripping onto his lap.

"Nine! Ten!"

_ _ _ _

"Can we stop watching this now?" Soichiro groaned.

"There has to be some hint," L traced the screen with his fingers which showed you getting spanked hard by Light now.

Soichiro let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Mr Yagami, you can close your ears and eyes," L said without looking away from the screen.

_ _ _ _

"Good girl," Light said, rubbing your ass. "Now, a reward."

He slid his pants and boxers down to his legs and wiggled out of them. He brought his dick to your pussy, rubbing its head against your clit and earning a moan from your pursed lips. He flipped you over, pinning you under him on the bed again as he continued to tease you.

"Please, Light," you begged, trying to reach out for his dick so you could push it in.

"Please what?" he said sweetly and you groaned in annoyance.

"Please fuck me."

He smiled and pushed his dick inside you slowly, savouring every inch of your tight pussy.

"Oh!" you wailed, feeling his cock stretch your pussy.

He started bucking his hips in and out, fucking you harder as his balls slapped against your clit, doubling the pleasure. He was careful not to make a sound, but he didn't stop you from letting your strangled moans out. This would be your punishment, facing his mother in the morning after getting fucked so hard by him at night.

You tried very hard to suppress your lustful sounds, eyes welling up at the thought of facing his family in a few hours, but you couldn't. He was too good. He knew just how to get under your skin. Slowly, you felt your second orgasm approaching.

"Ah, ah! I want to come," you clasped your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. He was going so hard on you, of course, his mother and his sister would wake up if he continued.

"No, you're not. Hold it in," Light commanded. "You're going to come when I say so."

He kept fucking you harder, and you could feel your orgasm building. This was torture. There was no way you could hold yourself in when he was going so hard on you.

"Please, Light," you begged, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. "I can't hold it in anymore."

"Hold it in, I said," he said, flipping you over again and spanking your ass hard. He increased his speed, and you buried your head in a pillow to muffle your screams. "I'm going to come inside you now. Understood?"

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you knew he wasn't lying about his orgasm. You nodded slowly, voice still distant because of the pillow.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he released his juices inside you, pushing his dick deep inside you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, and it sent you over the edge.

"Now, come for me, pretty girl," Light said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes!" you screamed, feeling your orgasm wash over you. His cum was dripping out of your pussy, and you could feel his cock softening inside you.

"Good," he said, pulling his cock out of you. It was scary how calm and composed he was when a minute ago, he had spanked you so hard. He grabbed a towel and wiped your pussy clean.

_ _ _ _

Soichiro blinked at the abrupt ending of the sounds. Still refusing to look up at the screen, he asked, "Is it over now?"

"They're both still naked," L said, analyzing the place, feeling his own dick harden at your bare figure, panting and sweating as Light got off you and laid next to you, throwing the towel somewhere insignificant.

"Well then?" Soichiro said.

"Well what?"

"You made me watch my son... doing- doing stuff with his girlfriend," Soichiro said in a shaky voice, his hands behind his back to avoid pulling his hair out in frustration. "What have you understood from this?"

"What I've understood?" L said thoughtfully, his gaze unconsciously reaching his growing bulge. "Your son is quite romantic, I suppose."

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seungfl0wer · 3 months

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I need some angst pleeez I love ur writing and would love to see more angst pleez break my heart

So I wanna request something like them calling you clingy or just bothersum? Take ur time tysvm <33

~Sunny ☀️

*Felix Calling You Clingy*

Hello there dear, so I started this and realized I’m probably just gonna have to make this into a small series. So you’ll be getting them all just spread out I hope that’s ok! Also thank you so much for the kind words i greatly appreciate it so much. I hope you like this. I started with Felix first for some reason his just kinda came out so here the first out of 8🩵

Includes: Texts messages, mentions of depression, arguing (of course has a happy ending they all may not though)

Small edit to put one of the messages is a small messed up I forgot to delete a line and I really don’t wanna go back through all of it and redo it😅 I’m sorry

Others here:

Bangchan , Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Lix seemed to be avoiding you lately. You knew he was always pretty busy due to him being an idol however even when he had time off he just never wanted to spend time anymore. It’s been a good 3 weeks with no seeing him. With how he’s been acting and how life’s just been in general it made you depressed. You just kinda felt like you were doing everything wrong and weren’t good enough for him anymore.

It was 4AM, You were tossing and turning just feeling all the weight of everything on you. Your mind was just thinking of everything and anything. You wanted so badly just to message Lix, you really needed him right now. You kept going back and forth on whether you should or not, not wanting to bother him so late with your cry babiness. Before you knew it though you were already typing to him. You knew he was awake by the little green mark that showed he was playing a game you both use to play together. So he was up and online.

You couldn’t respond anymore. Your heart was breaking, you started bawling. All you could do is reply with a “k” which he hated. Which you also hated and only used when you were upset. You grabbed your pillows and all the blankets you could find and made a nest on your bed. Curling up into a ball. The blankets soft against your skin as you buried your face into them. They were the only comfort you could feel right now. You eventually ended up crying yourself to sleep.

How could the man you love say such things to you? How could he just spit so much hateful venom at you. Why not just dump you, just get it over with if he was so unhappy.

The next morning you had woken up to more texts:

Your chest tightened you reread the messages about a million times. Your mind started to spiral a bit. You wanted to cry wanted to yell wanted to beg him but you didn’t. With all the emotions and all the stress lately you went almost numb. The next couple days went by and you started to try and do things to help yourself. You went out with some friends, kept yourself busy with you hobbies and even met some new people online to play games with. One of the best things you decided though was you erased all of Felix’s messages. You couldn’t sit and reread all the stuff that was said. You couldn’t keep making yourself feel the hurt.

You knew lix well, you guys have been dating for almost 2 years now. Did he go about everything in a horrible way? Of fucking course. Are you just gonna forgive him for what he said easily? No, fuck no. However, you knew lix well enough to know what he said is probably eating him alive. Because he does love you and you know that. But he’s a human and sometimes we are just prone to being really fucking stupid sometimes.

After about a week and a half of radio silence on both ends. He messaged you.

After that you two texted a little here and there. He even FaceTimed you a few times just to show you the scenery. When he eventually came home you two sat down at your house to talk.

Felix kept apologizing, both of you were crying by the end of the conversation. Felix told you it wasn’t about you being “clingy” per-say he said he loved being around you but he wanted to make a day when he was off to just do something by himself. Even if it was just a few hours. He said how he felt like he just never gets alone time. How it’s either go go go with schedule, doing stuff with the members, coming to your place. He feels so stretched thin and that’s why he blew up.

He know he did wrong by doing so but you get it. Man could be taking a shit and someone would be trying to talk to him about his job and something. He doesn’t ever get time for himself. You both agreed that you’ll give him space. And the days he’s doing his own thing you won’t text him until he texts you.

He also wanted to assure you he doesn’t think you’re clingy, he loves how you are and wouldn’t change you for anything. He said what he said out of sleepless rage. But he knows he fucked up.

You both needed that night in a pillow fort he built for you, eating snacks, talking about other things and just cuddled up together. You missed him. You missed him so fucking much. Missed the sweet smell of his cologne, his beautiful bright smile decorated with little Hershey kiss freckles, and the most warm comforting laugh in the world. You laid in his arms through the night, it filled with such deep conversations, crying, laughing and more crying but out of happiness this time. You thought to yourself “we are gonna be ok, everyone has arguments but our bond is strong.”

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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pricegouge · 1 month

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horny knee-tattoo offerring...

ive had insomnia all this week and its super frustrating, bc you're tired but cant turn your brain off enough to sleep and its hard to physically tire yourself out at 4am yknow? maybe reader's 141 boy (any or all of em, its ur world babe) wakes up in the middle of the night and sees how frustrated and miserable their partner is, tossing and turning, doomscrolling, counting down the dwindling hours till their work alarm is due to go off, and they take it upon themself to fuck their partner to sleep. not just one round, no, orgasm after orgasm, squirting over the sheets, crying from tired frustration and then relief, till they fall asleep stuffed full around a cock. their boy(s) carefully get them all cleaned up and tucked back in the sheets dead asleep <3

i hope ur tattoo goes well! whatcha gettin 👀

Hii 💛

I went with Price cause I'm a simp

(also I'm getting Mothra)

cw: reader has a pussy which is referred to with fem terms, but no gendered pronouns for them. daddy kink (sorry). squirting. implied (non negotiated) somno. John's POV.

He's not expecting the glow of artificial light permeating the room when he opens his eyes in the dead of night, though by now he supposes he really should be.

You've been struggling to sleep for weeks now, the unhelpful sleep aids and your own frustration creating a bad feedback loop which left you tossing and turning into the early hours of morning when you would usually slink off downstairs to try your luck on the couch, leaving your side of the bed cold and empty.

It simply wouldn't do.

"Trouble sleeping, sweetheart?" His voice is rough with his own grogginess, sawing through the still of the night with enough force make you jolt, nerves shot with exhaustion.

"Yeah. Am I keeping you awake?"

He grabs after you when you begin to shift out of bed without even waiting for an answer. "Not at all. You stay right here." He pulls you closer to him, illustrating exactly what he means by tucking you in against his chest, his hand heavy where it cradles your skull. You sigh as if in contentment, but your body remains stiff and tense against him. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," you grumble, just as much upset about it as he is. "Thanks though."

"Thoughts racing or just not tired?"

You shrug, shoulder jostling the arm he has slung over you. Your voice is watery when you respond. "Little bit of both I guess."

"Hey," John starts, immediately alert, pulling you impossibly closer. "What's wrong?"

You bury a sniffle in his chest, tension shifting rapidly to obvious frustration. "Nothing," you whine, obviously lying. "I'm just so fucking tired but it's like I'm not tired at all, you know? Like my brain's just decided we don't need it anymore even though body feels like a Furby with the battery running out, right? But there's nothing I can do; no matter what I try I'm still stuck laying here - wide the fuck awake and -!"

"Okay," John starts, easing you back onto the bed before you start rambling about more obscure nineties toys he's barely ever heard of. "Okay, let's just -." He pauses, at a loss, but then he looks down at you in the dim light of your forgotten phone and he sees your puffy face, the tear streaks, your hair a mess, tangled in sheets from all your tossing and your turning and he knows immediately how best to help you.

"I know something we can try, sweetheart."

"You do?" As if in contrast to your confused tone, your hands grip his forearms instinctively, eyes wide and hopeful as he lowered himself down over you, weight near crushing. He doesn't bother responding beyond a pleased rumble when your hands slip up over his biceps, kissing your fingertips when they curl over his shoulders. You're still so tense beneath him, but he's sleep-soft and heavy enough to smother you, thinks he can overwhelm you easy enough. Just has to ply you the right way.

The kisses your eyelids first, lips tracing the etch marks of your tears. He kisses the corner of your mouth, pulling back teasingly when he feels your lips part under his.

"John," you whine, and he can't help the huff of laughter which collects between you, humid and dense on your skin.

"Need me?"

"Yes."

He loves how eager you can get, the way you pull him down until he lays flat on top of you, the way you accept his tongue with a pleased groan. Your legs fall open beneath him and he grinds against you lazily, a tight contrast to your neediness, though he indulges you with the deep kisses he knows you crave.

When his lips trail down your neck, you thread your finger through his short cropped hair, your nails scratching against the tightness of his scalp and it eases that last little bit of lingering tension in him, makes him sink that last little bit into you. He's heavy, languid, forcing you to still yourself and meet his pace, rewarding you with a particularly dirty grind when you do.

He trails kisses down your chest, stopping to teethe lightly on your nipple as he slips down the bed. You jolt, undoing all his work, but he just chuckles, content to unwind you again and again if needed.

You're slick enough for a finger when he gets your bottoms off, but he makes you wait for that too, licks over your lips with fat, teasing stripes that have your legs falling open around him, blooming like a flower in invitation. He still doesn't give in, ignoring your clit in favor of pressing his teeth oh so gently into your fat mound and rubbing his beard into your soft inner thigh. It'll leave a rash, he knows, get you all huffy about it in the morning.

He'll kiss it better then, too.

"John, please," you whine and he smirks, pressed close enough to the crease of your thigh you can probably feel his incisors against your hip flexor.

"What was that?"

A pause. He can practically hear your breath catch in your throat.

"Need daddy to help?"

"Please," you sob, frustration bubbling up again.

"Shh," he breathes, lets his breath fan across your exposed clit when he thumbs the hood back. He should make you ask properly, but he hasn't forgotten this is about you. "I got you, sweetheart."

For all his patience before, John dives into your cunt like his last bloody meal. He's sloppy, spit and slick collecting on his chin as he licks into you, breath hot and humid, leaving him in heavy pants that have him groaning with your taste. You fingers find his hair again, pull him and he obliges happily, showing your cute little clit the love it needs as he finally sinks two fingers into you, moaning at the way you clench around him. He's efficient, a man with a purpose, and he makes you cum within minutes, your breathy whines sounding suspiciously like a low chant of 'daddy.'

You moan when he kisses you after, no finesse. Just a hot slide of slick tongues where he shares your taste with you, keeping you distracted as he lines himself up.

It's never an easy task. John's a big man, his cock nothing but proportional. It never matters how many times he has you, or how pliant he get you beneath him, the first press into you is always slow, measured in your breaths which he uses to his advantage.

His words are soothing in your ear, lips pressed flush against your temple as he tells you how good you are for him, how much he loves the feel of you stretched tight around him. You hand clutches at him blindly, distracting. He threads his fingers with your own and pins it by your head.

When his hips fall flush with yours he gives you a minute, stroking your hair and kissing away the tears that have sprung up again. "Poor pet," he murmurs, petting your cheek. "Daddy'll make it better. Promise."

You nod, perhaps a bit stupidly, and John kisses you as he begins to move again.

You're easy beneath him. Pliant, like he was looking for all along. He wrings the first orgasm out of you easily enough and knows he could probably call it a night, knows you'd sleep well enough by the satisfied look on your face.

He doesn't want 'well enough.' He wants to put you under on his cock alone, drill it into your head that he can give you anything you fucking need.

"What do you say to daddy when he fucks you that good, sweetheart?" His voice surprises him, borderline cruel.

"Th-thank you, daddy."

He hums, rolls his hips into you experimentally. "Want one more?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

With your legs hooked over his shoulders, John shifts his weight to fuck down into you, his sheer mass keeping you spread and pinned like a butterfly beneath him. Your breath stutters, fingers across his chest, shoulders, biceps. Anywhere you can dig in, find purchase - mark him back.

He knows he's got you dead to rights when your moan turns deep, unaffected. "Fuck, daddy," you groan and John bites back a dark chuckle.

"That it, sweetheart? Right there?"

You nod tightly, cords in your neck nearly visibly with how tight you've already been drawn.

"You gonna cum for me again?"

"Yeah, daddy, please -!"

"Dirty slut, cumming already," he tuts, but he pistons into you exactly the way he knows you need, his own groan caught like gravel in his throat when your cunt starts milking him and you mewl like you're in heat.

He's not nice about it; doesn't even let you wind down completely before his thumb finds your clit, drawing a tight circle across your sensitive little nub while he rocks the head of his cock against that spongey spot deep within you that damn near makes you hiccup in pleasure each time. It's no different now, your breath stuttering out in while you tense and shake beneath him. John waits until you're arched beneath him, clenched so tight around the base of his cock he couldn't cum even if he wanted to -

And then he presses his palm down flat and hard on your mound and you cum so hard it soaks his belly, dripping down to the sheets and collecting in the creases of both your joints.

"Fuckin' hell," he growls, planting one fist on the bed by your hip to support himself as he watches you drift back to earth.

You're fucked out and dazed, already drifting off when John rolls you onto your belly to straddle your hips. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he rumbles, lowering himself to settle snugly over your back, keep you enveloped in his safe, sturdy weight.

"Yes, daddy," you mumble into the pillow and John presses a whiskery, satisfied smile against your temple. He slips back into you with so little resistance you barely even seem to notice.

"Just needed me, didn't you honey? Get some sleep now, yeah? I'll give you some sweet dreams."

#asks #this was SO self-indulgent whoops #price x reader

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lieslab · 9 months

Text

Skz finds you struggling with self-harm

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: This was a request and each member deals with a different type of behavior that can be considered a form of self-harm. To whoever requested this, I'm sorry for taking about a week. In a word document, this is about forty-five pages, so thank you for being patient while waiting. I hope you can find some comfort here <3

_ _ _

Bang Chan:

TW: Cigarettes and brief mention of cancer.

"What is this?" Chan gestured towards you.

"What does it look like?" You grumbled with the end of the cigarette in the corner of your mouth.

You ignored your boyfriend and kept glancing off into the darkened sky. You thought he was asleep as you stepped out onto your balcony, but apparently not. Either he wasn't asleep or you accidentally woke him up when you snuck out of your shared bed.

He stayed quiet while he observed you. You ignored his heavy gaze and pretended he wasn't there. You adjusted the cigarette back to the middle of your mouth. The end glowed a warm orange while you inhaled another mouthful of the smoke.

The oversized hoodie hung off your body. You threw it on hoping it'd catch the scent of nicotine instead of your pajamas. Silence hung over the two of you along with the stars. You didn't utter a word. Quite frankly, you didn't want to tell your boyfriend why you were outside on your balcony smoking a cigarette at 4am.

It was almost like he could read your mind. You exhaled and the tendrils of smoke drifted off into the distance. Realizing this was his chance, Chan broke the silence.

"Do you wanna talk abo-"

"Nope," you cut him off.

He pressed his lips together trying to figure out what to say to you. He knew whatever you were going through was bad. You only turn to cigarettes when life seems unbearable. Too caught up in his own life, he hadn't realized you were struggling so much. Worry and guilt began to nip at him.

He had shifted to wrap his arm around you in the bed, but you weren't there. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a barren bed and your silhouette outside on the balcony. He knew what you were doing the moment he opened the balcony door. He was instantly engulfed by the scent of tobacco.

No wonder you tasted so much like peppermint lately. Chewing peppermint gum, one piece after the next. Showing up to his studio tasting like mouthwash. You brushed your teeth after you smoked. Swishing around mouthwash and chasing the mouth-burning liquid with more minty gum hoping it'd block out the scent.

"Bad day?" He finally offered.

You snickered, "more like a bad life."

His heart squeezed in his chest at your remark. Surely, you didn't associate him with the bad part of your life, did you? Yeah, he was busy a lot because of his job, but what about the times you shared? Was it all bad?

Sensing his worry, you changed your wording.

"It's not a bad life, but things seem to be piling up lately. It's one thing after the next after the next. I purchase a pack of cigarettes and then the nicotine releases dopamine. I know it's bad, but it brings me a state of peace. Is it terrible to just want to relax for a while?"

"No," he admitted after a few silent seconds. "It's not bad, but it's dangerous."

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes. In the brazen moonlight, Chan could see everything. The full moon lit up every feature of your face. Seeing you like this beneath the soft glow, he wanted to smile, but your words twisted him with trepidation.

"I know I should care," you reopened your eyes. You blinked trying to hide the tears building up. "But honestly, I really don't give a shit. It says right on the box that it can cause lung cancer. I already feel rotten enough on the inside, so maybe it's what I deserve."

"Nobody deserves that."

You stared down at the burning cigarette in your hand. Embers drifted into the darkness while others scattered onto the ground below. The rolled paper around the cigarette continued to burn. Your brain begged for you to take another hit of the nicotine, but now your heart was in turmoil.

"You are an adult, you know. You're free to live your life as you wish. No matter what you choose to do, I can't stop you. However, as your significant other, I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know," your voice came out weak. All those emotions you had been suppressing were coming up again. "Can I be honest?"

"Of course, you can."

"I hate the taste of them," you chuckled and dropped the cigarette. The heel of your shoe crushed it into the ground. Your fingers gripped the metal ledge of the fence around the balcony.

Chan didn't utter a sound.

"It's been going on for a while, unfortunately. For a month, at least, and I'm not sure if I can easily stop." You hung your hands together over the edge of the railing.

"That's alright, you don't have to quit cold turkey. Maybe try to wean yourself off of them, okay?"

"Okay."

Tobacco stained your teeth. The soured flavor clung to your tongue. The scent draped over you like a heavy curtain. You bit down on the inside of your cheek wondering how you were going to pull yourself away from the thing you spent the past month finding comfort in.

"You don't have to do it alone," Chan spoke up again. "I'll be right here if you need me. You can talk to me whenever you need to."

You nodded your head.

"Do you want to discuss what made you turn to them in the first place?"

"Not really."

"Then we don't have to do that." He turned back to the moon and changed the topic. "The full moon is beautiful tonight. I don't remember the last time I've been able to stare at the moon like this."

"It's nice."

"Peaceful and quiet."

You mumbled an agreement as a yawn left your mouth.

"You wanna go back inside and get some more sleep?"

"That sounds good."

Not bothered by the scent, Chan walked over and put an arm around your shoulders. The two of you walked back into your bedroom. He locked the balcony door while you pulled off the hoodie you were wearing. You headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

After climbing into the bed, you curled yourself up against your boyfriend, happy that you were able to find someone as patient and understanding as him.

_ _ _

Lee Know:

TW: Using alcohol to cope with problems, depression, and self-hatred.

Lee Know was used to you occasionally drinking. You did it, he did it, and your friends did it. However, when he came home on the third day in a row to find you with a bottle of wine, his eyebrows furrowed.

There you were curled up on your favorite spot on the couch. The large TV sat in front of you and you grinned while watching some raunchy romance show. His eyes scanned the area. A bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. A glass of wine was tucked into your hand. Too enthralled in your show, you didn't hear him come in.

The bright screen lit up the transparent bottle to show that it was nearly gone. You just opened that bottle yesterday, so how was it gone already? He blinked in shock and stepped closer towards you.

He snuck up behind you, without meaning to startle you, and stuck his hands on your shoulders. You let out a yelp and jumped. The popcorn bowl upturned and kernels and popcorn pieces scattered across the carpet.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well, you did," you frowned and stared at the mess. You sighed, placed your glass on the coffee table in front of you, and began to stand up. The world seemed to tilt and you fell forward.

"Woah!" Lee Know jerked forward, grabbed the back of your shirt from over the couch, and yanked you back to safety.

You laughed as you plopped back down on the couch. Your boyfriend frowned at your reaction. If he wouldn't have caught you, you would have hit the coffee table. He kicked off his shoes and climbed over the edge of the couch. You giggled while he pulled you into his grasp.

He leaned back comfortably against the arm of the couch. With you in his arms, he tugged you back against his chest. Your ear was pressed up against his heart. The gentle thrum soothed your soul.

"How much alcohol have you had to drink today?" He began to run a hand through your hair.

You half-shrugged on top of him.

"One glass?"

"More."

"Two?"

"More."

"Three?"

"I don't know."

"Four?"

"Mmh, maybe."

He paused and glanced back over to the bottle of the wine. Last night, it was nearly full, so you drank more than half of it. You were upping your alcohol content steadily. He frowned and stared back at you. You seemed okay the past few days, but clearly something was bothering you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Do you ever hate yourself?"

"Huh?" He was caught off-guard by your comment.

"Do you ever hate yourself?" You repeated. "Lately, I've been feeling like I'm not a very good person."

Lee Know kept watching you. You were pronouncing your words properly, so you must not have been too drunk. He glanced up at the analog clock stuck to the side wall. You were home before him in the early evenings. You had, at least, five hours to drink before he got home.

"Why do you think that you're not a good person?"

"I don't know."

"There must be some reason."

"I feel ugly!" You blurted out. "I feel gross and disgusting about myself. I look at myself in the mirror and I hate what I see. I've been sad and I haven't wanted to get out of bed. I have zero motivation to get out of bed or brush my teeth or do anything."

"Oh?"

"I feel icky inside and out. You tell me all the time that I'm beautiful. You're always there, but I'm not able to see myself like you are. Maybe I feel so gross because it's a struggle to get out of bed. I don't know, but the other day I had a glass of wine and it felt nice and then I had another and I felt okay again."

"So you're using alcohol to attempt to cope?" There was a sadness in Lee Know's voice.

"Uh-huh and you know what?"

"What?"

"It's working very well. I am so light and I feel so good. I feel like I can laugh again. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside."

Lee Know tilted himself closer towards your face. He leaned over you and cupped your cheeks gently. You peeled open your eyes and met his. A goofy grin filled your face at the sudden closeness.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Don't I make you feel warm and fuzzy? Do I have to remind you?"

"Of course, you make me feel that way! You give me butterflies. I love you so much, you don't even know. I can't put it into words how you make me feel."

"So you're feeling bad about yourself?"

"Uh-huh."

"What if I gave you a kiss every time your brain said something bad about you? You stop drinking the wine and I'll replace it with kisses."

His boba eyes stared intently into yours. You blinked in shock. It wasn't often that Lee Know was so touchy with you. He patiently waited for your answer and squished your cheeks a little more. A grin began to stretch across his face. He cooed and squished your cheeks more. You began to giggle at his antics.

"Is that a yes?"

"Uh-huh."

He bent down and gave you a quick upside down kiss. Still tipsy, you squealed in delight. He puckered his lips and did it again. Pulling away, he rubbed your cheeks. "So how was it?"

"I think I need another one."

"Already?" He threw his head back and let out a dramatic groan.

"You said if my brain was saying something bad!"

"That's right, I did say that. So I must prevail in my efforts to comfort the love of my life. Pucker up and get ready for a love bombing."

"A love wh-"

Before you could finish, he leaned down and began placing kisses all over your face. Your laughter only added fuel to his fire. He kept going and going and going until he ran out of air panting. He threw himself back over the arm of the couch gasping for breath.

"More!" You cried out.

"More?" He threw his hands up. "You're just taking advantage of my love!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around you tightly, and squeezed your body. You wiggled, but your arms were pinned to your sides. You whined and squirmed, but you were no match for him.

"What are you doing?"

"Prison of love." He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. "You're here until further notice."

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Razors/razor blades, cutting, and self-hatred.

“They couldn’t have grown legs and walked away,” Changbin grumbled. He climbed further into the cabinet, beneath the bathroom sink, and pushed products aside. Dropped down on all fours, his torso was completely inside the darken and confined space.

He was attempting to try and find a pack of his disposable razors, but he couldn’t find any of them. He swore he just bought another pack last week, but they were missing. He pushed aside backup bottles of body wash and shampoo. Diving further into conditioner and cotton balls, he dug back further, but to no avail.

He pushed himself backwards and whacked his head on the top of the cabinet in the process. A loud groan left his mouth and it woke you up. In the room next door, you had fallen asleep early. Exhausted from another day at work, you were defeated by the time you came home. Within seconds of your body hitting the pillow, you were out.

You blinked your bleary eyes and rubbed them wondering what was going on. Through the thin bathroom door, Changbin was mumbling. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he seemed to be upset about something.

As you pushed yourself away from the tangled blankets, Changbin dived back beneath the cabinet to look again. He shoved the small basket of product to the side and when his razors weren’t in the very back, he jerked himself out again. A hand went to the porcelain sink to propel himself up.

Crash!

You stumbled over your feet worried that your boyfriend might have fallen. Picking up your pace, you knocked when you arrived at the door and called out to make sure Changbin was alright. Not hearing a response, you panicked even more.

“I’m coming in,” you called out.

When you stepped inside, you found a teary eyed Changbin staring at the floor. You stepped up beside him quickly wondering what was wrong. On the tile floor, lay the scattered remnants of the bathroom trash can. A shampoo bottle laid beside it.

Right there on top? One of Changbin’s disposable razors was completely dismantled. Twisted blue plastic with a missing razor blade. You made sure to hide it deep within the trash can beneath the snotty tissues and makeup remover wipes. You didn’t take into consideration that the trash can might fall over.

The pieces began to click together in your brain. You had been using Changbin’s razors for a while now. Prying apart the plastic and so desperate to feel something again. You found a friend in the cold metal blade. The stinging sensation somehow seemed to mend your internal wounds.

Humiliation filled you and the guilt of it all crept in. You swallowed the lump in your throat as your own tears filled your eyes. You remained cemented to the floor unable to speak and unable to explain. There was nothing to explain anyways, Changbin knew what you were doing instantly.

The two of you stayed silent. Changbin ran through your behavior the past few days in his head. You stopped wearing pajama shorts to bed, but fall had turned into winter. He didn’t question why you switched your clothes. When you didn’t want to be touched as much, he hadn’t questioned it.

Boundaries and communication were so important to him. He knew not to cross them. The two of you were honest with each other constantly. It helped your relationship flow smoothly, it helped prevent arguments, and it left the two of you satisfied; but this? How long had you been keeping this a secret?

“Why?” He finally got out.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was shaky as you spoke. You felt so small. So helpless. Rather, you let down one of the most important people in your life. Would he see you through the lens that you saw yourself?

He turned around to face you. There was no hint of anger. His face wasn’t twisted and there wasn’t a scowl. Hurt was in his eyes. He reached out and cupped your face again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ll replace your razors and I won’t do it again.”

“But why?” His thumbs brushed against your cheeks to wipe away tears. “Why are you hurting yourself?” You blurred in his vision.

You blinked rapidly trying to get the tears to stop. You didn’t want to admit you hated yourself. You didn’t admit you found comfort in the pain. You didn’t want to admit any of it. You were stuck at a crossroad.

“Please talk to me.” He waited patiently for you to speak. When you didn’t, he pulled you into his burly arms. Warmth cocooned your body and cradled your soul.

“I didn’t mean to start. I’ve struggled with it before, you already know that.” You sniffled and sucked in a deep breath. “It got bad again and I just wanted to self-soothe. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

He rubbed your back gently. Your head was tucked beneath his chin. His heartbeat walloped in his chest. “You didn’t disappoint me, you’re hurting inside. You have to learn how to be gentle with yourself, baby. You could never disappoint me.”

More tears filled your eyes. They began to trickle down and soak his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. You let yourself be held by him.

“You’re allowed to hurt and you’re allowed to be sad, but how about we try to do something else that doesn’t harm you? I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You don’t understand how precious your existence is to me. You mean everything to me.”

A strangled sob came from the back of your throat. You broke down completely in his arms. He treated you with such tenderness and love, it made you cry harder. He soothed you quietly while he began listing some of your best qualities.

You cried and cried and cried until you were completely defeated. Everything you had been holding back came up. Beneath your pajama pants, your thighs stung from the fabric brushing up against them. You tried to hide them. You forced yourself into your jeans.

The fabric rubbed and created irritation. The water in the shower hurt. They always hurt. Just as old wounds began to itch and heal, you created new ones to remind yourself just how worthless you were. The cycle had started again and it’d continue until you stopped.

Changbin spoke to you how a mother spoke to her newborn baby. Praising you for the smallest things. Dotting on you and gently rocking you side to side. They say a mother’s heartbeat comforts a baby in the wound. With you pressed up against and hearing Changbin’s heart through your sobs, maybe that’s why you felt comfortable enough to fall apart.

When you finally finished sobbing, you were left breathless and exhausted. Changbin’s heartbeat continued to thrum. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you and Changbin planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

You didn’t object as he picked you up and carried you back to your shared room. Concerned about your well-being still laced him. No matter how much he wanted to continue talking about it, you needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow, he’d help you come up with a better plan to cope, but for now, he’d be by your side until you woke up again.

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Skin picking, hair pulling, anxiety, and blood.

You didn’t realize Hyunjin moved from his spot until you felt his hand gently cup your wrist. You glanced down with confusion etched onto your face. He gave you a reassuring smile before he spoke. “You’re doing it again.”

You glanced down with a frown. Sure enough, you were doing it again without realizing it. Lost in your overwhelming thoughts, you began to pick at the scratch on your arm. Your sharpened nails plucked at the skin. The darkened red bits of healing wounds were reopened. A fresh trail of trickling blood steadily streaked down your arm.

“Ah, shit.”

You stood up and mumbled an apology. In the bathroom, you began washing your hands in the bathroom sink, so you could address the problem. Out in the kitchen, Hyunjin was doing the same thing. With hands still damp from hastily drying them with the kitchen towel, he walked into the bathroom and gently tugged your wrist again.

The uncomfortable feeling of humiliation crept inside as Hyunjin observed your bleeding arm. Lately, you found yourself doing things without even realizing it. Digging your nails along your skin and creating scratches. Gnawing at the sides of your nails and ripping off perfectly healthy skin.

A few days ago, you began to pluck at the end of your eyebrow. You didn’t realize it until Hyunjin came home and pointed it out. On the side of your head, beneath a top layer of hair, there was a bald patch growing back. It never really registered what you were doing until it was too late.

Wound tight with anxiety, you floated away from reality and let yourself meander a river of worry. Your fingers moved without realizing it. Your body was desperate to soothe itself even when you were consciously away from the driver’s seat of your brain.

Hyunjin didn’t mind pointing it out. He knew how you could be and if anything, he was happy he could get you to stop. Pulling you out of that cloudy blank daze and helping bring you back to reality. He was careful with every movement. He didn’t want to startle or injure you more.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you mumbled.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

You stayed silent and let him rinse the blood off your arm. You watched him clean up, disinfect, and bandage the scratch on your forearm. It had been healing for the past few days. The other day, you dug your nails into the delicate skin. When you scraped your nails down, your skin came with it. Pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of warm blood beneath your fingers, you realized you had injured yourself yet again.

You knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. Hyunjin was a constant reminder of that. There was no judgment from him whatsoever. However, every time he caught you doing it, you felt like a child upsetting a parent. He hadn’t made it known that he was annoyed with your behavior, but you were sure he felt that way deep down.

The thought nagged at you while he threw the last bits of band-aid paper into the trash can. He hummed softly beneath his breath and washed his hands like it wasn’t a big deal. Suds filled his hands and the scent of citrus hit your nose.

“Why are you never mad at me?” You finally snapped. You didn’t mean for it to come off so snarky, but you didn’t understand why he was so cool, calm, and collected about your behavior. In your head, it was inexcusable.

“Why would I be?” He asked cooly. His face remained neutral and he dried his hands on a hand towel.

“Aren’t you annoyed or angry or, I don’t know, upset maybe? Sometimes I’m aware I do it, but I continue doing it. I don’t care if it hurts. It just….I don’t know!” You threw up your hands exasperated. “Why are you so okay with it?”

Hyunjin eyed you for a moment. You still couldn’t read his thoughts. He kept his face neutral until he cocked his head to the side. “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

“If I did what you did. If I picked and plucked and tore and scraped and scratched; would you be annoyed or upset?”

“No!” Your head shook frantically. “Of course, I wouldn’t be like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. I love you and you deserve compassion. I’d never want you to feel like you were doing something wrong and I-” You paused for a moment. “Oh.”

The side of Hyunjin’s lips tugged into the start of a smile. “Yeah, exactly. Do I think you should do it? No, but I understand why you’re doing it.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” you finally admitted.

“I was doing some research the other day and they said it helps if you wear gloves. However, I know that’s not always a possibility because you hate gloves. There was another article I found about keeping your hands busy.”

“So like a stress ball?”

“That’s one option, but I was thinking of something else.” He laced his fingers through yours and began to pull you away from the bathroom. “You know how you always like my art? You’re always wishing you could create art as well as I do?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled you into your bedroom and retrieved a plastic bag from beneath the bed. He handed it to you and let you open it. You stared at it cautiously and then glanced up at him.

“Go ahead and open it. It’s not going to hurt you or anything. Come on,” he grinned, “you’ll love it.”

You stuck your hand inside and began to pull out objects. A sketchpad was followed by a bright pink eraser and a pack of fancy pencils Hyunjin always used to create sketches. He beamed when a smile appeared on your face.

“You got these for me?”

“You’ve been wanting to do art for a while now. I can help teach you and I created a YouTube video playlist of videos I first watched when I created art. When I’m not around, you’ll be able to watch them and learn.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off.

“I know it might not help entirely, but it’s a good distraction. If you start this and don’t like it, I’ve been talking to Felix. He sent over some of the recipes he makes a lot. Maybe you could give baking a shot?” He offered.

Tears began to fill your eyes from the warmth that fluttered through your heart.

“What?” His face fell. “Do you not like this? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He rushed towards you and began to wipe away your tears. “I don’t want to seem overbearing and like I’m trying to fix you. That’s not what I’m trying to do, I swear! I-I just want to help you.”

You laughed at his distress. He paused upon seeing your reaction. You sniffled and shook your head. Pulling away, you began to speak.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m not sad, I’m so happy. You didn’t have to do all this for me. I’m so grateful and I feel so overwhelmed.”

“So they’re happy tears?”

You nodded and laughed again. More tears streamed down your cheeks. A smile began to grow on Hyunjin’s face again.

“Thank you for caring about me.”

“I’ll always care about you.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll do anything to see you happy. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Gambling and gambling addiction.

The question sat unspoken on your tongue. You knew what you were doing was wrong and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You shifted in your spot on the couch for a fourth time trying to gather up the courage to ask.

Your boyfriend’s eyes were glued to the latest anime the two of you had been watching. He was clueless about your antics. You sucked in a deep breath and called out his name. When he didn’t respond, you called his name a little louder.

He snapped his head towards you with his big eyes and round cheeks. Even without meaning to, your boyfriend was attractive. You pushed away the thought and focused back on the task at hand.

“Can I ask for a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

In the background, the characters in the anime continued fighting each other. Brightly colored hair flung around and over dramatic sound effects whirled. Fists flew and bodies bucked. Screams of despair from the hero and bouts of anger from the villain continued.

The anime reminded you of yourself. You were the hero and you were the villain. Always flipping back and forth between the two, a switch toggled, but it never flipped fully. You were reckless with life decisions. Messy without thinking things through. Acting in the heat of the moment without thinking about the effects.

“Can I borrow five-hundred dollars?”

“Huh?” Han’s eyes widened in shock. “Five…hundred? What? Why?”

Your eyes met the ground. You felt pathetic. Your form of self-harm wasn’t physically damaging your body. You didn’t turn to substances to cope with things. You threw yourself into gambling instead. Every paycheck, you went through money like water. You were a pro at self-sabotaging.

You managed to keep just enough to make ends meet and then you’d blow the rest of it. Chasing the high of winning, you didn’t know how to stop. The worst part? You were pretty decent at it. Whether it was making bets with your friends about small things or feeding freshly dispensed ATM cash into slot machines at the casino, you were good.

Lately, you had been on a winning streak. The cash was pooling in. Over and over again you won and each time, the dopamine rush was more intense than the last. You were seeing green, at least, until greed brought you to your knees.

You bet everything in the heat of the moment. You bet it all and within a few seconds, you lost everything. It was there and then it was gone. Even worse, you realized you hadn’t put the money aside for your half of the rent. You were royally fucked and with no more money to bet to try and make some of it back, you were screwed.

You didn’t leave the casino giddy with excitement. You didn’t sprint to the front desk to redeem your money from the ticket in your hand happily. You didn’t relish the fresh air outside with loaded pockets feeling unstoppable. You left with tears in your eyes and humiliation coursing through your veins.

“Five-hundred?” Han repeated again, completely baffled. He reached over, paused the show, and sat up. “Baby, why do you need five-hundred dollars? Did something happen?”

You could have lied. You could have said something went wrong with the payroll at work. You could have said the system broke and your paycheck would be delayed. You could have pretended your bank account was hacked. As you ran through the lies in your head, they made you feel even more grimy and worthless.

Heart taught with distress, you squeezed your eyes shut and balled your hands into fists. Your nails dug into your palms. This was your fault. You did this. You made your bed and now you’d have to lie in it.

“I really fucked up,” you finally admitted. You stayed silent for a few moments. You weren’t sure how Han would react to your admission of guilt. You let out a sigh before you opened your eyes and spoke again. “I think I have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Han stretched forward. He laid down on his stomach and tucked his palms beneath his head. He tilted his head up to stare at you from his position. “Anything I can help with?”

“I might have gambled all my money away.”

“You what?”

“I know it sounds bad.” You were sheepish to speak. “I forgot to set aside rent money. I know it’s no excuse, but it left my mind.”

Han stared at you without a word. You were too afraid to glance over at him. Your eyes never left the floor.

“So the five-hundred dollars is to cover my half of the rent. I promise I’ll pay you back!” You peeked over at him. Eyes filled with desperation, you hoped he’d understand. “I don’t like asking you for assistance, but our landlord won’t budge on the rent being due at the end of this week and I don’t get paid until next week.”

“Did you just start this or…” He trailed off.

“It’s been happening for a few months. When I hang out with my friends, we go to the casinos and stuff. It was really fun and before I knew it, I was hooked on it. I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tried.”

“Of course, I’ll cover your part of the rent.”

Relief filled your veins.

“But.”

“But?”

“But it sounds like this is a big issue. This was a pretty big incident that happened to you. What would happen if this occurs again and there’s nobody there to help you?”

You frowned and shifted once more uncomfortably beneath the weight of his gaze. “Honestly, I never really thought about it. I think I might be obsessed with it. I live for the feeling of being a winner.”

“Don’t you think you should stop before you become a loser?”

Your face fell at his words. He scooted closer to you and scooped you up to his chest. You could barely breathe as his arms constricted around you.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, but this is concerning. I care about you and I don’t want to see you lose everything. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

You weakly nodded your head. He clutched to you tightly in the silence. The anime was still paused in the background. A fist froze in mid-air as it was ready to slam into the villain who stood with wide eyes of terror. His fingers found the ends of your hair and he began to twirl his fingers around it.

“Han?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. I’ve been doing it for a while now. I thought I’d be able to give it up, but it’s like an itch that won’t go away.”

He paused for a moment before he hummed. His tongue clicked while he thought about the situation. His fingers lazily tapped along your spine. You laid with your head on his chest. He sat sideways on the couch while he held you.

“I’ve heard that there are some therapists that specialize in therapy for gambling addicts.”

The air was knocked from your lungs. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You stiffened in his arms at the words. Shame filled you once more. That’s exactly what you were, you were an addict. This whole time you were afraid to label it, but that’s what it was.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel pathetic.”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Han clutched you tighter. “A lot of people struggle with addictions. It doesn’t mean you’re worth any less to me. If anything, I’m proud of you for coming to me with this problem. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem and you’re right there.”

“Your addiction doesn’t define you,” he continued. “We all struggle with a lot of different things. It can come in different varieties and all shapes and sizes. You don’t have to be ashamed of something that’s so normal.”

“I don’t think this is normal.”

“Not for everyone, no. However, I’m sure there’s thousands of people out there just like you. Some people are in denial and don’t want to admit it. Others are afraid and some feel like they have nobody to turn to. Everyone has their reasons and I’m sure you have yours.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net. They eased some of your anxiety about the whole situation. You mumbled an apology for everything and he reassured you that it’d be okay. He stared at you with such love and admiration, even when you weren’t paying attention to it.

“So how about we finish our anime and we can figure everything out after this episode?”

“You want to see who wins the battle, don’t you?” A smirk began to appear on your face.

“Maybe just a little.”

“You might want to watch, at least, the next two episodes.”

“You already know what happens?”

“Nope, I’m just betting on the fight being cut early and something dramatic happening.”

He stared at you unamused and despite the situation that had bloomed due to your actions, all you could do was laugh at your own word-play.

_ _ _

Felix:

TW: Overworking, caffeine addiction, and anxiety.

A frown filled Felix’s face when he laid his eyes upon you. He arrived home late tonight due to a few extra late dance practices. He expected to find you asleep in your bed, but instead you were hunched over your desk in the pitch black.

The bright light of your laptop illuminated your face while your fingers moved over the keys. Your eyes were narrowed and you were stuck in a trance. Beside you, three empty energy drinks sat. A fourth was directly beside you and half drank.

This morning, there weren’t any on the desk. He made sure of that because he removed them and tossed them into the recycling bin after you left for work. He ventured further into the room, let his bag fall towards the ground, and began to speak.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

He was met by the sound of you typing. The white light from your laptop highlighted the deep bags from beneath your eyes. You felt like your brain was melting, but the high caffeine content kept you going. You weren’t behind on work, in fact, you were ahead of everything.

You worked a normal nine to five and then came home and worked some more. Sometimes your line of work required you to do extra work at home and sometimes you just wanted to work ahead. Felix often tried to get you to lay off overworking yourself, but you never listened.

You had been like this for the past two weeks. You barely ate and slept. You were always hunched over your laptop. Emailing coworkers and upper management. Passing and trading reports back and forth. Filing and submitting different claims. Making phone calls, so on, and so forth.

Felix’s shoulders slumped when you didn’t respond. Just looking at the purple bags looming beneath your eyes made him tired. He let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes.

“Baby, come on. You can finish this in the morning. You’ve been working all day and you need to get some sleep.”

You blinked upon hearing the voice and briefly glanced over at your boyfriend. His eyes were half closed with sleepiness. It was past one in the morning. You gazed down at the clock on your screen.

“Go ahead and get in bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just let me finish up this report real quick.” You went back to your screen and continued to type.

Felix let out a sigh, but went about his evening routine. He slipped into pajamas, completed his skincare routine, brushed his teeth, and slipped into the bed. It was cold without the warmth of your body. His head slumped against the pillow defeatedly and he waited for you.

And he waited and he waited and then he waited some more. He tossed to one side and then the other. He tried to lay on his back and then he tried to sleep on his stomach. Haunted by the quick pecking of your laptop keyboard, he couldn’t get himself to sleep.

He huffed slightly annoyed, shoved the blankets away from his legs, and he sat up. “Baby, are you coming to bed? You said you’d only take a few more minutes.” He glanced over at the clock beside him. “It’s been nearly a half hour since then.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you responded absentmindedly. Your eyes were bloodshot and your spine ached. You tilted your neck to the side and small pops sounded. Ignoring them, you took another sip of your energy drink, and went back to typing.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and daggers hit your back. His arms crossed over his chest. You were unaware as you continued typing on your laptop. After nearly another minute of silence, he finally shoved himself up.

Unbeknownst to you, he left your bedroom and headed for the living room. He wasted no time shutting off the internet router box and slipped back into your bedroom without a sound. It didn’t take long until you frantically clicked your mouse and let out a groan.

“Something wrong?”

“The internet went out in the middle of my report!”

“That sucks.” His voice held no sympathy. “We’ll figure it out in the morning. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

You grumbled, but eventually shut your laptop and climbed into the bed. Happily, he curled up into the bed beside you and buried his head into your chest. It didn’t take long before he fell asleep due to exhaustion, but you couldn’t.

The caffeine had you wired. You were wound up and didn’t want to sit still. You laid there for a while to make sure Felix was fully asleep. Once you were sure he was out, you slipped out of bed and ventured out into the living room. You reset the router and within minutes, you were back online.

Nearly an hour later, Felix was well aware that you weren’t there. He woke up and reached out to cuddle you, but you were gone. He sat up wondering where you were. Upon realizing you weren’t in the bedroom, he went out to look for you.

That’s when he found you in the living room with two more energy drinks beside you. You were sipping a third one. Felix was flabbergasted at your behavior. How much caffeine was cruising through your veins?

“Baby?”

You stopped typing and glanced up to face your boyfriend. You paused and meekly smiled at his sudden appearance. “Hi?”

His arms crossed over his chest and your heart sunk. He stared at you without a word. You slowly put down the energy drink on the coffee table.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What are you talking about?”

“How many energy drinks have you had today?”

“I-” You paused to think about his question. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Felix, it’s not that big of a deal. I always drink energy drinks. Calm down and go back to bed. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“No. Put your laptop down and let’s go. You’re going to bed. Do you know how many days this has happened? Multiple.”

“You’re being irrational!” Your voice started to rise. “Stop being so fucking dramatic! God, they’re just energy drinks, Felix! It’s not like they’re going to kill me!”

“Are you hearing yourself?”

You rubbed your sleepy eyes and let out an annoyed groan. “Can’t you just leave me alone? Why do you care so much? I’m doing my job!”

“Part of your job is to take care of yourself as a person! When was the last time you got eight hours of sleep? When was the last time you had a decent meal?” His voice began to crack. Tears started to fill his eyes. “When was the last time you were happy and not slung over your computer?”

You felt like you had been slapped in the face by his words. Your mouth went dry, almost like you inhaled a mouthful of sand. You wanted to say something back, but there was nothing you could use to justify yourself.

“Why don’t you care about yourself the way I care about you?” His bottom lip quivered. “You’re always telling me to take care of myself. You’re always making sure I’m not overworking myself, but what about you? I don’t want you to die.”

Tears trickled down his freckled cheeks. He hadn’t meant to cry, but he was frustrated. Why couldn’t you see yourself like he could? Why didn’t you care? Why weren’t you listening to him?

“Felix,” your voice came out softer.

He shook his head and blinked rapidly to get rid of the tears. “I’m going back to bed. You can just stay here sipping your energy drinks and overworking yourself. When you collapse with a heart attack, don’t come crying to me.” He stormed back towards your room upset with your behavior.

The slam of your bedroom door caused you to jump. You looked down at the energy drinks you were consuming and guilt began to fill you. He was right. He was right about all of it. You were absolutely miserable.

The caffeine made you shaky and it spiked your anxiety. You were so dependent on it, if you didn’t have any, you started to develop a throbbing headache. You became aware of your heart rapidly beating in your chest. How much longer could you keep up this behavior before it burst?

With a sigh, you shut your laptop and pushed it onto the coffee table. You walked back to the room you shared with Felix. Shame filled you once more. Quietly, you opened the bedroom door and stepped inside.

Felix was turned away from your side of the bed. He was facing the wall with his arms still crossed over his chest. Silent tears flooded down his cheeks still. You weren’t sure if he was awake or not, so you softly called his name.

“What?” His voice wasn’t angry anymore. He was completely defeated.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t realize my behavior was upsetting you so much. I didn’t think it was making you worry. I’m sorry for yelling at you. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

There was silence for a while until he spoke again. “I’ll always worry about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Part of our relationship is to look out for one another.”

You padded over and slipped beneath the covers. Once he felt the bed stop shifting, he spun around so he could face you. The dim light from a nearby lamp caused a soft yellow glow to overcast. There were tears still in his eyes. They were smeared along his cheeks.

Your heart hurt at the sight of him. He moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbled into your skin and the vibrations caused tingles to run through you.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I swear. I sent an email to my boss and told her I wouldn’t be there tomorrow. You have the day off, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“Let’s spend the day together, yeah?”

He pulled away from you. His eyes sparkled as they met yours. “Really?”

You nodded your head before you leaned over and kissed his cheek. A rosy blush dusted the tops of them. “You wanna help me get rid of my energy drink stash tomorrow?”

“You have a stash?”

“I always have a stash.”

“You’re not gonna get mad?”

“No. You’re right, I need to stop. I kinda feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. It’s beating so fast right now.”

“Or maybe that’s just because I’m here.” A cheesy grin filled his face. He leaned up and kissed your cheek this time.

“Yeah, maybe it’s just because you’re here.”

He snuggled back down into the crook of your neck. You let out a soft sigh at his warmth. It didn’t take long until you both fell asleep tangled around each other.

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Starvation, disordered eating, binging, and poor self esteem/body image.

Seungmin chewed his instant noodles peacefully across from you. With a fork in one hand and his phone in the other, he was content while scrolling through social media. On the other side of the table, you sipped your glass of ice water and did the same.

The only difference was that you did not have instant noodles in front of you. You sat up straight at the kitchen table with your fingers digging into your plastic cup. Condensation pooled against your fingers and left a ring along the wood. You scrolled through your social media too.

The scent of beef broth filled your nostrils. Your empty stomach twisted and contorted. It rumbled for the third time. You shifted in your chair and continued scrolling through your phone. Your fingers paled as you dug them into your cup tighter.

You silently salivated in your seat. The things you’d do to have a single bite of your boyfriend’s noodles; the warmth of flavorful sodium filled broth lining your stomach. Your teeth bit down onto your bottom lip once again.

The feeling of hunger was sharp and dull. Your stomach searched for food, but it had nothing. The feeling of cold water pooling in the bottom of your stomach filled you with a sense of pride. You were starving, yeah, but you had self control. In your brain, this was a win.

When your stomach roared again, Seungmin glanced over the top of his phone. He eyed you suspiciously. Lately, you seemed to be pushing away food. He didn’t talk about it much because he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

After all, he had been on his own fair share of diets. He knew they could be difficult, but you never mentioned a diet. In fact, he hadn’t seen you eat anything recently. Realizing this, a frown filled his face.

You glanced up at the feeling of eyes on you. When your eyes met Seungmin’s, you raised an eyebrow. He copied your expression without a word.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

Your eyes went back down to the instant noodles. He picked up another forkful of them. Noodles snaked through the fork prongs and dripped with broth. You pulled your eyes away and shook your head. Your eyes went back to your phone and you swallowed another mouthful of cold water.

He glanced at his noodles and then back to you. Down to his noodles and back to you. When your stomach cried out again, his eyes went back to you for a final time. This time he blurted it out without warning.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit. Your stomach has been roaring like a lion for the past five minutes. You’re starving, so why aren’t you eating?” You kept your eyes secured to your phone. “Talk to me, babe.”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the phone. You didn’t put it down because you were too afraid you’d spill and that’d ruin everything. You gave a slight head shake and went back to scrolling.

Seungmin sighed, got up, and began rummaging through the cupboards. You watched with curious eyes while he pulled out another cup of instant ramen. You tried to ignore him, but when he added hot water, the smell of beef broth caused your stomach to rumble once more.

You cursed beneath your breath and set your phone down. As you pushed yourself back, the wooden legs of your chair scraped against the ground. Seungmin turned around, alerted by the noise, to find you leaving the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom.”

“No you’re not. Get back here and sit down. We’re going to have a conversation about why you’re not eating. Sit your ass in the chair.”

“But I-”

“No. Sit down and shut up.” He placed the cup of noodles in the spot where you were sitting. His eyes narrowed while he stared at you.

You wanted to turn around and ignore him. When Seungmin made up his mind, he made up his mind. There was no use in running away from the problem. He’d hunt you down and figure out the root of the problem anyway.

You sighed and sat back down. He pushed a fork over to you and plopped down in his own seat. You stared down at the cup of noodles and your mind began to wander.

How many calories were in it? How much sodium? What if this single cup of noodles caused you to lose control? What if this single meal caused you to spiral into a binge? On and on your internal thoughts went and Seungmin had no idea.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry,” you repeated.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited in silence for your real answer. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You shifted beneath his eyes again. He knew exactly how to make you squirm.

“I don’t feel like I deserve to eat,” you meekly admitted. You didn’t meet his eyes. You kept staring at the steam rising from the cup of noodles.

“Why not?”

You shrugged, but then continued anyway. “I feel like I deserved to be punished for not being good enough.” Your fingers played with the ends of your hoodie sleeves.

“Not good enough? What do you mean you’re not good enough? What are you talking about?”

“I could be better. My body isn’t in the best shape right now. It’s a simple way to lose weight. Honestly, I kind of like the feeling of starving. It makes me feel strangely powerful.”

“But you have to eat.” He leaned forward and reached his hand out. He was gentle as he cupped his hand over yours. “How are you going to have the strength to get through your days without food?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. It felt pathetic when you said it out loud. Your stomach continued rumbling. The scent of beef broth was overwhelming now that it was closer.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It just started this week.”

Seungmin stared at you wondering how he could help you. He knew about eating disorders, but he didn’t know how to help you. The answer seemed so simple to him, but your brain wasn’t wired like his was.

Food was not fuel for you, it was a daily challenge; a struggle. A battle of binging and starvation. Something you loved and loathed at the exact same time. It was gluttony, but perfection; a twisted combination of the two. You never seemed to find middle ground.

“That notebook that you’ve been writing in recently in our bedroom. You’ve been counting calories, haven’t you?”

You didn’t have to respond. Seungmin already knew the answer. A frown filled his face. The noodles were beginning to lose their warmth.

“Do you trust me?” He suddenly asked.

“Of course, I trust you. What kind of question is that? I’m dating you, obviously I trust you.”

“Can I make you food from now on? Not every meal, but just one a day, so I know you’re eating something. It’d make me feel better.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t want to agree, but you also didn’t want this to spiral out of control and funnel into something you lost yourself completely to. The question weighed heavily on your mind. He was asking you to give up control to the one thing that you could control.

“Can we try it for one day?” His voice softened. “One day and if you don’t like it, we can figure out something else.”

You finally nodded your head slowly. Your eyes wandered down to the fork beside you. You let out a soft sigh before you picked it up, twisted it into the cup of noodles, and took a bite. Flavor exploded on your tongue. You relished the taste with closed eyes.

“How is it?”

“It’s really good.”

“I’m glad I didn’t decide to poison it then.”

“Seungmin!”

He let out a laugh and sat back. A small smile appeared on your face. He kept you busy with conversation, so your mind couldn’t go back to focusing on your food. Eventually, you managed to eat half of them before you pushed them away. Seungmin allowed it without complaint.

“Whoops, I think you got something here.” He leaned across the table and began to reach for your shirt.

You looked down to see what it was, but before you could see, he reached up and flicked the end of your nose.

You let out a yelp and pulled away. Shooting him a glare, he could only laugh in amusement. He always knew how to keep you on your toes.

_ _ _

I.N:

TW: Doom scrolling and self-isolation.

The world was on fire. Maybe not physically, but that’s what it felt like. You had fallen into the toxic cycle of doom scrolling again. Climate change, war, protests, violence, politics, upcoming elections, riots, and death. You flipped through your TikTok page and soaked it up like a sponge.

Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like.

The algorithm was a little too good at its job. The moment you began liking content about one issue, more videos appeared. Soon there was another and another and another until your TikTok page was a manifesto of doom and gloom.

The memes went away. The animal videos went away. The videos about your hobbies and interests went away. The videos from your favorite creators went away. Even videos about your boyfriend’s band disappeared.

The more you scrolled, the worse you felt. How could you live at a time like this? A time when the world was flooded with such chaos. Man made disasters, disease outbreaks, deadly weather events, and crime. Murders, shootings, stabbings, kidnappings, and so on. Another child dead, another place shot up, and another country suffering.

How could you not be sad? How could you not live with depression? How were you supposed to go on living with the realization that there was so much suffering? Why weren’t people nicer? Why are humans cruel to one another? When did humans lose their humanity?

Eventually, you turned off your phone and let it fall onto the side of the bed. Tears filled your eyes when you rethought about it. So many stories about higher powers out there. Ancient gods and goddesses, magnificent unearthly creators passed down from generation to generation, and yet suffering still existed. Why?

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wasn’t working. You reached a hand from beneath your warm blanket and wiped away your tears. You felt guilty for feeling so upset about everything. You should have been thankful that you were able to live the life you lived, but you still felt conflicted about the extent of suffering. None of it was fair.

I.N let himself into the apartment he shared with you. He kicked off his shoes and let out a sigh of relief glad to be home. He knew you weren’t home tonight and you probably wouldn’t be home for a while. You told him you were going out with friends earlier.

Lately, you seemed a little down, so he was happy you were finally getting back out there. You loved your friends dearly and they loved you. Besides, you could use a bit of cheering up.

He hummed to himself and moved throughout the house. He walked directly into the bedroom ready to shower and dress in comfortable pajamas. All of his plans crashed when he heard sniffling as he opened the door. He flipped on the light and there you were curled into a ball in your bed. You squeezed your eyes shut at the bright lights.

“Sorry about that, baby.” He flipped the main switch back off and flipped on the closet light instead. The too bright white light disappeared and was replaced with a softer lighting. “I thought you were going out to hang out with your friends.”

“I was going to, but I called off.” Your voice wobbled slightly. You sniffled again and pawed at your eyes.

Upon seeing your teary eyes, he walked over and slipped into the bed beside you. He pulled the covers away from you and tucked himself right beside you. You wanted to cry at his actions, but you managed to keep your tears back.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen at work or something? Did one of your friends say something?” He studied your face with concern.

You shook your head and sniffled again. “Do you ever just realize how bad everything is in the world? There’s so much death and destruction.” Tears filled your eyes once more. “How are we supposed to deal with it?”

He knew what you were talking about instantly. You did this sometimes. Sometimes he caught you doom scrolling and stopped you. He often distracted you from it with things like your Nintendo Switches or TV shows. You must have started doom scrolling when he was away.

“The ice is melting in Antarctica and the polar bears…” You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence, as your bottom lip quivered.

You wore your heart on your sleeve. Empathy was a bittersweet thing for you. You were born with too much of it and you didn’t know how to turn it off. Your heart went out to everyone and everything. Even in the cruelest people, you were able to find empathy in them.

I.N pulled you into his arms and wrapped them around your torso. You buried your head into his chest. He gently rubbed a hand along your back.

“You know, animals are very good at adapting to a variety of situations. A lot of them are more intelligent than we realize. I’m sure the polar bears are the same way.”

That was the thing about Jeongin. He never belittled you for being empathetic. He never called you too sensitive or a crybaby. He didn’t brush away your concerns about things. He listened to your rambles patiently and tried his best to help alter and adjust the way you viewed things.

You didn’t like your empathy, but he thought it was a gift. You thought about things that he didn’t. You looked at the world with such kindness and compassion. You could easily befriend a stranger if you wanted to. You provided him with a different outlook on life.

“It’s all so sad. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why are we letting people suffer?”

“I wish I knew why, but I don’t know. Unfortunately, life isn’t fair to everyone. It really sucks, huh?”

“I hate it,” you grumbled. “I hate being stuck here and not being able to do anything about it.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“What happened with your friends?”

“I called off. I felt worthless, so I told them I wasn’t feeling good. I didn’t want to tell them what was really bothering me.”

“Why don’t you go hang out with them? I’m sure they want to see you. You said they’ve been texting you about how much they miss you recently. I’m sure it’d be a good distraction for you.”

“You’re right, but I don’t know. They’re already hanging out and they think I’m sick. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You could tell them you’re feeling better.” His fingers found your hair and began playing with it. He enjoyed the feathery feeling between his fingers.

“Can you come with me?”

“Do you want that?”

“Honestly, yeah. We haven’t been anywhere recently. They’ve been asking about you too.”

“I’d be happy to tag along. Where are they? Dinner or something?”

You pushed yourself up off his lap. “They’re actually bowling right now.” Feeling a bit better, you stood up from the bed. The previous thoughts of earlier were in the back of your head now.

“Have you ever bowled before?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“If I say yes, you’ll know I’ve had an advantage. If I say no, then you’ll know I haven’t, so the answer is maybe.”

“I’m gonna beat you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“The loser gets to let the other person pick out their outfits for a week, deal?” I.N asked.

“You’re on!” You rushed out the bedroom door. You sprinted towards the hall to grab your shoes from the sneaker shelf. “Let’s go!”

I.N smiled to himself as he went after you. He might not have done much, but, at least, he could help distract you from everything on your mind. He put on his shoes and hurried to follow you out the door.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Taglist: @fairytaleskiess

Masterlist

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #kpop fanfic #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz fanfic #fanfic writing

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 8 months

Text

In the Background - Chapter 4

Summary: You’ve been dating Natasha in secret since her early days in SHIELD, and you’ve been in the background of all her missions since.

Word Count: 5155

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: canon violence

A/N: uhhh, hey everyone! 10 months since the last update, here's the start of the Age of Ultron section! Thanks again to @emril-osvigne for getting me back into this :) Hopefully the next part should be out soonish but until then, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Previous Part

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

“Don't you guys ever sleep? I want to sleep.”

“It's 10 am; sun's up. We can't be wasting time.”

“Yeah, 10 am is all well and good…but it's 4am here. Do you not get jet lag? And don't tell me you slept on the plane; I know you didn't sleep on the plane.”

Natasha's laugh came through the comms and almost made it worth it. You were still annoyed and sleep deprived, but almost worth it.

“If you get us through, then we can all go to bed faster.” Natasha really did know the way to your heart.

“In that case, Romanoff, take a left. You're going the wrong way.”

“You only just now tell me?”

“You only just turned!”

Just then, an alert began to ring, ‘we are under attack’ echoing through the halls of the HYDRA facility, and picked up by the access Maria had found. At the same time, the camera feeds in front of you filled with smoke, soldiers, and streaks of ammunition.

Maria turned to you. “You know, I think they've been spotted.”

“You don't say!” came Tony's strained reply.

All you could do was watch as the Avengers stormed forwards; J.A.R.V.I.S. took care of everything on the field, so you let your attention drift towards Natasha’s suit camera footage. For the most part, all that you could see were spinning trees and approaching enemies, but every so often, glimpses of Natasha’s arm or leg would appear on screen, or she’d appear in Clint’s footage, and that was enough to have you daydreaming of all the moves that you knew she was pulling out. You almost felt sorry for the soldiers, having been on the receiving end of the Black Widow’s blows yourself, you knew they were a force to be reckoned with.

Clint’s camera flipped rapidly in the corner of your eye, pulling your attention away. Maria saw it too, and the both of you exchanged worried looks over the fact that Clint had been knocked by an unseen opponent; even as he lay on the ground, his enemy was outside the field of view.

“Barton, are you okay?” Maria asked, but only got groans in response.

You kept a closer eye as he pushed himself up, so you saw when a blond haired man walked across his screen, looking down at him with an expression that could almost be described as amusement. “You didn’t see that coming?” he said, but didn’t attack; he just continued to walk before disappearing into a blur of blue.

“What just happened?” you asked. You might have written it off as a sleep-deprived hallucination, had Maria not been staring at the screen too, similarly slack-jawed. Along with Clint, both of you at HQ watched intently down the archer’s line of sight, following the aim of his arrow – it’s what made it all the more startling when his screen tipped again, this time accompanied by a yelp.

“The blur again?” Maria stressed, but you shook your head, pointing to Natasha’s screen. Positioned alongside her closest friend, she was the first to notice his fall, and turned from her own approach to run towards him, giving you a clear view of his injured side. Almost synchronously, Steve’s camera flipped in a full 360 before he looked around, but again, no enemy in sight.

“We have an enhanced in the field,” he announced. The speedster.

At the same time, Natasha confirmed her visual for both HQ and the team on the field: “Clint’s hit!” She rushed to his side, allowing you a close-up visual of the burn – although it had only grazed his side, with the damage it caused you knew he’d been lucky that it wasn’t a direct shot.

“I’ll get Helen,” Maria mumbled, pushing her chair away from the desk and rushing out of the office, phone in hand to call the Avengers’ resident doctor – aside from Dr Banner, of course, but he was otherwise preoccupied.

Speaking of, Hulk charged through Natasha’s footage, roaring as he leapt and destroyed the bunker which had injured Clint and continued to endanger Natasha. She thanked him. You turned your attention to the other Avengers momentarily, still fighting their way into the building, but your attention always returned to Natasha as she tried to heal Clint on the field. Tony destroyed the defences, Steve and Thor found each other to discuss plans, but Natasha remained kneeling by Clint, who by this point had given up on his struggle to stand.

“Clint’s hit pretty bad guys; we’re gonna need evac.”

“I can get Barton to the jet,” Thor promised, “the sooner we’re gone, the better.”

Natasha stayed with Clint until Thor arrived then, once the god took her friend to safety, she moved on to your least favourite part of all Avengers missions – calming the Hulk. Although you knew why she was the person best suited for the job – a calming presence on the team and her quick thinking solutions if things went wrong – seeing an uncontrolled being roar in the face of your girlfriend tended to get your heart pounding. Still, as she held her hand out and stared him down, the Hulk began to respond; his grunts softened, his steps shrunk, and he eventually held his own hand out, dwarfing Natasha’s when he went to touch it. You watched Natasha trace her fingers over the forearm of the Hulk and felt phantom sensations mimic the move on your own arm, as your mind filled with memories of nights in your room with Natasha, where you laid with your sleeve rolled up to let her practise her gentle touch.

Soon enough, Bruce came stumbling back, faster than ever before. Natasha led him slowly back to the quinjet before he went to calm himself and she went to check on Clint. Tony and Steve returned soon after, sceptre in hand but expressions sombre – you don’t know what had happened to Tony, but he had stumbled around the room for a few moments before he grabbed the sceptre, and spoke little after that point. You saw him smile at the others through their cameras but afterwards he went straight to the pilot’s seat, while Natasha sat as co-pilot.

“We’re on our way back,” Natasha stated, and from your charts you could see the jet ascend out of the Sokovian woodlands.

“Hill’s got Cho on her way for when you get here. Otherwise I’ll trust you don’t need my assistance for the way back.”

“We’ll be good, Y/L/N.”

“Okay,” you hummed, checking no other Avengers lurked on the channel, and that Maria was still out of the room, “I’ll see you soon, baby, get home safe.”

“I’ll try my best, Agent,” was all Natasha said. All she could say. But you heard the meaning behind her words. You smiled, and then you hung up; you would see them all soon.

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

Maria met them at the hangar, pulling double duty of escorting Helen Cho to Clint so she could transport him safely, and finding Steve to pass on the information you and she gathered on the ‘enhanced individuals’ the Avengers had encountered on their mission. Facial recognition on Clint and Steve’s body cam footage had identified them as Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, then Maria had searched for references to them in the information Stark sent through, finding a list of powers they’d gained under HYDRA.

You hung back. Being off-duty for the Avengers’ long flight home had allowed you to get the sleep that Natasha had promised earlier. You knew Natasha would be with Clint, both keeping him company and keeping tabs on his well-being until he had fully recovered – a process that would be very quick if your conversation with Helen was to be believed – but once he was up, your girlfriend would finally be ready to sleep and return to you.

For the sake of appearances, you didn’t officially share a room at the Tower: Natasha had a whole floor of her own, while you shared yours with the other ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits. Whenever it was possible, Natasha and you didn’t stay at the Tower at all, preferring the privacy of the DC apartment the two of you had shared throughout your time at S.H.I.E.L.D., but it was no longer within an easy distance of work and, more often than not, the both of you ended up staying at the Tower. It took caution, and a lot of planning, to ensure you still spent nights with your partner – leaving for ‘home’ on different days to avoid suspicion, sleeping in your own room every now and then even on the nights where Natasha was in the Tower, and, in your case only, riding the elevator all the way up to your office at midnight if someone else steps into the capsule with you, hiding your true destination of the Black Widow’s bedroom. Avengers employees were terrible gossips.

But on that day, you were alone: the regular 9-5 employees were going about their jobs, the ‘on call’ employees had gone off to sleep, and the Avengers were too preoccupied with their post-mission routines to pay anyone else much attention. The Tower was as quiet as it ever could be, so you rode up to Natasha’s suite and sat on her couch with a tablet in hand and information at the ready – as an excuse in case anyone but her entered the room next.

Luckily for you, this was a day where everything went to plan: 40 minutes after the quinjet touched down, Clint was healed and as good as new. 45 minutes after the quinjet touched down, Natasha stepped out of the elevator, smiled at the sight of you, and walked into your open arms.

“Hi baby,”

“Hi,”

“How’s Clint?”

“Back to his usual self,”

“How awful,”

“I know. At least Laura will be glad.”

“We can’t lose him before baby Natasha comes into the world.”

“I was thinking I might visit them with Clint now that there’s no sceptre to worry about. Would you like to come? Check on my future protege with me?”

“Of course I would,” you promised, leaning in just close enough for your lips to touch, “anywhere to be with you.”

Natasha took your hint without delay, shuffling closer in your arms to close the distance between you, laying gentle kisses to your lips before pulling back to speak again. “We’re heading off Sunday, after the party, taking a bus part of the way and his car, so we can all go together without suspicion.”

“There’s a party?”

“Saturday night, Tony just decided on it.”

“Of course he did.”

Both yours and Natasha’s phones chimed, and you reached into your back pocket to check it – a difficult task considering you were sat with Natasha straddling your lap, but you managed. Natasha checked hers too, confirming that you had both received the same message: an invite to the ‘sceptre retrieval party’ on the Saturday. Formal attire. Veterans in attendance for Steve to ‘bond with people his own age’. Steve would probably thumbs down that addition… if he knew how to react to messages at all.

Natasha hadn’t looked up, but she knew an unimpressed expression would greet her. “You’ll get to watch me get ready,” she offered.

“The only highlight.”

“Aw, am I really that bad of a conversationalist?” Natasha smirked.

“The worst,” came your reply, but with a smile before she could offer to spend the party talking to someone else.

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, we have three whole days uninterrupted before then, maybe we can work on my conversation skills.”

“I think we can make that work,” you said, smiling into the next kiss. You let her relax on your lap before quickly changing the pace; you pushed her back, strong enough to move her yet light enough to catch her before she fell fully.

“Hey!”

“Go take a shower first, you reek of gunpowder.”

She rolled her eyes, pouted at you, and shook her head, yet she still conceded. “Whatever you say, baby.”

You didn’t have to ask this time. She definitely meant that ‘baby’ as an insult.

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

Days without missions were rare as Avengers, but they had been even rarer as SHIELD agents, so you and Natasha had learned how to make the most of them. From coffee dates in disguise, to reading books while sprawled across your living room, and even to skydiving (once. You vowed never again, but Natasha had seemed a little too comfortable with it), it was safe to say that you’d covered a wide range of activities, and the three days you had with her now were no different.

But all good things must come to an end, and three days later the two of you were back on her floor of the Tower, getting each other ready for the party. She opted for a classically stylish look: black and white dress, curled hair, red lips – she looked beautiful, and you made sure she knew it. In addition to that, the monochrome look served a secondary purpose, allowing the two of you to dress in complementary couple’s outfits, without actually drawing attention to the fact that you were a couple. If the two of you entered the room together, then maybe the others would notice that your white suit and black shirt perfectly matched Natasha’s dress, but you knew better than to do that.

Natasha entered first, alongside the other five Avengers, to begin the meet and greet that always started these parties. You followed an hour later and found the party in full swing: Colonel Rhodes entertained guests with stories of his heroics, Steve and Thor led a veteran out to the chauffeur, and Tony showed off his gadgets to some of the senior officers in attendance. But, of course, your gaze sought Natasha immediately, and it found her behind the bar, pouring herself a drink while Bruce stumbled through a flirting routine. As much as you wished to, it would be too telling for you to beeline towards her and interrupt Bruce’s attempt at a date, so you contented yourself to sit on the couch with Clint and only occasionally sneak glances at the redhead.

The archer caught on immediately, and laughed as soon as he followed your line of sight. “You worried about the competition?”

You glanced around, checking once again for eavesdroppers in the conversation before you answered with a shake of your head. “Not with Nat, no, she’s earned my trust completely…”

“But?”

“But Bruce doesn’t know it and,” you tilted your head to the side, nodding in the direction of another spectator, “clearly Steve doesn’t know it either.”

Just then, as your attention fell back on Natasha, her eyes found you over Bruce’s shoulder and lit up at the sight; she hardly hid her smile as she made her exit, leaving the scientist staring at the spot she’d vacated in order to make her way over to you, settling beside you on the couch. “What are you two gossiping about, hm?”

“Oh, you know, just… relationships… and secrets”

“Not that I would know anything about that,” Clint added with his hands held up.

“Of course not, of course not. Not a thing for us three esteemed members of society to be dealing in,” you joked.

“Never,” Natasha finished with a laugh. Then movement from the bar drew your attention back to the scene at hand, all three of you instinctively going quiet in an attempt to listen in, only occasionally diverting your focus or sipping drinks to hide your actions.

“Ooohoohoo,” Clint laughed, “I think good ol’ Cap just told Banner to ask you out.” You’d come to the same conclusion, so nodded and laughed alongside the archer at Natasha’s long sigh.

“Here’s hoping that doesn’t make things awkward.” Natasha’s response was quick, as Steve made his way to sit with the three of you, followed by Tony soon after.

“Y/L/N! You made it!” the billionaire cheered, patting you forcefully on the shoulder, “here I was thinking you were going to blow us all off.”

“It was a consideration,” you shrugged, though of course you would never miss an opportunity to see Natasha dressed in her best.

“I’m hurt, truly,” was all he said before wandering off again, seemingly looking for more people to impress.

“And then there were four,” Clint commented, “where’s Maria? It’s like an old SHIELD reunion.”

“I hope without the HYDRA this time.”

Hours later, Maria had come to join you, along with Helen Cho and the remaining Avengers, to crash on the couches and eat the takeout Clint had ordered. The night was at its end, so energetic conversations shifted into private murmurs – you were pretty sure Helen had fallen asleep – until Clint’s mockery of Mjolnir drew everyone’s attention back, waiting to see how the god reacted.

To your surprise, Thor only laughed, then held out his arm, “please, be my guest.”

“Really?” Clint hopped up with an eagerness he hadn’t shown since his wedding day. Despite the jokes made at his expense, he grabbed the grip, pulled, and…nothing happened. Thor reiterated the worthiness requirement but that only inspired the others to give it a go: one by one (or 2 at once in Tony and Rhodey’s case) the Avengers lined up to test their strength, each one failing.

“Widow?” Bruce offered, after an almost embarrassing attempt at it himself, but she declined, leaning towards you instead.

“Oh no, that’s not a question I need answered.”

Soon, all conversations derailed into theories and defences, jokes and accusations, until a high pitched whir interrupted all of that. There was no time to fix the issue before it stopped, giving way to rhythmic clunking approaching from behind.

“Worthy?” came an ominous voice. You turned to see a dilapidated Iron Legionnaire, limping towards the group. “No. How could you be worthy?” You were on your feet by then, exchanging brief glances with the others before you turned back to the robot. “You’re all killers.”

Steve stepped forward. Tony called for JARVIS. Nobody took their eye off of the mechanical puppet. Natasha hovered her arm behind her in search of you.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep. Or, I was a-dream.” The legionnaire continued, a full soliloquy that the team only rarely dared interrupt.

“Who sent you?” Thor challenged, and the machine answered back – with a recording of Tony’s voice.

“Ultron,” came Bruce’s realisation. Both you and Natasha turned to him, curious about a name you didn’t know; particularly when the mechanism – ‘Ultron’ – confirmed it. A glance around the room confirmed something for you too: the whole atmosphere had changed, and everyone felt it; Thor tightened his hold on his hammer, Maria readied her gun, and Steve searched for his shield.

“I’m ready, I’m on a mission.”

“What mission?”

“Peace in our time.”

The wall erupted into shrapnel as the Iron Legion took Ultron’s cue to attack; you caught only microseconds of the action before Natasha tackled you to the ground and out of the robots’ path. Your girlfriend pressed on top of you did little to help your cognition, and a flying table and Steve made it hard to keep pace, but you counted at least 3 robots in the air.

Few people had thought to bring weapons to a party in their home, leading to a struggle of hand to hand combat between man and machine, all just a delay before Thor could get a hit. When he destroyed the final Ultron – the main Ultron – you nearly collapsed from the exhaustion of it all; it had been some time since your last field mission.

“The sceptre is gone.”

“One of the legionnaires; it flew out just before the fight ended.”

Thor growled and flew out of the shattered window. Meanwhile, Tony and Bruce muttered between themselves, then made for the lab without another word.

“Hold on-” Steve commanded. You met Maria’s eye, anticipating another argument.

“No, I’m not gonna hold on,” Tony snapped, “I have work to do, but you could be a dear and bring that suit with us if you’re going to help.”

Steve followed his pointed finger, then wordlessly picked up the destroyed husk of Ultron and followed Bruce and Tony to the lab. With a shrug and exchanged glances, you and the others followed along too. Clint dropped to the back; walking alongside you and Natasha, he kept his voice low, “I guess we’re staying here for the next few days then.”

“No rest for the wicked,” came Natasha’s reply.

“Should’ve gone home when I had the chance.”

Natasha shivered by your side, the lab was colder than the party had been, but the whole building had cooled significantly thanks to the giant holes in the wall. You offered her your blazer but the spy waved you off and pulled one of her own jackets out from under a desk; you tilted your head to pose the silent question.

“All our work is gone,” Banner announced before you got a reply. You looked up to see him at his computer, searching through whatever he could find. “Ultron cleared out. He used the Internet as an escape hatch.”

Next thing you knew, Natasha was also gone, searching through files of her own. You tilted your head at her again. “He’s been in everything. Files, surveillance. Probably knows more about us than we knew about each other.” You didn’t miss how her eyes fixed on you, or how Clint’s hand fell on his phone: you all had secrets you didn’t want exposed.

“He’s in your files, he’s in the internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?”

“Nuclear codes.”

“Nuclear codes. Look, we need to make some calls.”

After an attack on the Avengers' home – the first in 3 years – the mood was understandably sour, but it only got more sombre as the team discussed the semantics of Ultron’s plan for ‘extinction’, all building up to JARVIS’s destruction. Things had never felt so hopeless. Nor did you realise until now how much you'd considered the sentient AI a friend; the devoted keeper of your and Natasha's secret.

From then on, for the rest of the evening, the events of the night all seemed to happen around you. The fights and plans and arguments; you knew you'd agreed to certain things, but nothing truly felt clear until Natasha put her hand on the small of your back. Your head snapped up and you met her concerned eyes. “I'm okay,” you reassured, before she could even ask.

Her gaze continued to survey every detail of your face, and you knew from her pursed lips that you had failed to convince her. “Let's go to my room,” she announced, and only then did you realise that she'd already led you out into the corridor to be alone.

You nodded, and she led you down, never faltering in her hold of you until you passed the threshold of her room.

“Bigger night than you expected, huh?” Natasha said with a forced laugh.

“Yeah.” You were in Natasha's closet now, looking through all the clothes you had left there. “You're not sleeping tonight, are you?”

The redhead sighed, as if she thought she'd gotten away with it, before she murmured a ‘no’. A pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie landed on her bed, and you saw her look of confusion before you went back in to look for a set of your own.

“If you're going to stay up, you might as well change into something more comfortable. And if you're going to stay up, I'm staying up with you.”

“You don't have to-”

“The quicker this is sorted, the quicker we can rest easy, right?”

She nodded.

“So let's get started.”

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

All through the night and well into morning, the two of you sat in bed piecing together any clues. Ultron had the wealth of the internet at his disposal in seconds, while you were left to a slow trawl through anything deemed relevant.

Bit by bit, you pieced together a plan, but it was only after joining the other Avengers to talk through findings in the morning that any progress was made. All from Ultron's unintentional clue.

“Where is this guy now?”

“Johannesburg, last I heard.”

“Let's go ask some questions.”

With the edge of your foot, you lightly nudged Natasha, you sign asking her to stay back even as the other Avengers filtered out of the room.

“Get some sleep, alright? I know you've dealt with worse, but it would make me feel better to know you'd had some rest – especially if you run into the Maximoffs; Maria told me what they’re capable of.”

“I will,” Natasha smiled. She surveyed the room and, seeing nobody else around, planted a light kiss to your lips. “Take care of yourself too; I'll be back before you know it!”

And with that, she hurried the others to grab her mission uniform and filter onto the quinjet. You, meanwhile, followed Maria to the mission HQ and called in to the Avengers’ jet. The mission plan for this one was brief: you found Klaue’s exact location and sent it to Tony, they would question his access to vibranium, and be prepared to fight in case Ultron or the Maximoffs decided to enquire about the same thing at the same time.

From then on, it was just a matter of waiting and resting until the quinjet touched down in South America, where you were next needed to ensure the mission ran smoothly.

One by one, the Avengers' suit cameras flickered onto the screens before you, giving you and Maria an insight into the scene before them.

“I think we're in for a fight,” Natasha muttered, referring to the streams of workers escaping the boat which you knew to be Klaue's.

“Stay on the plane, Bruce; code green will be a last case measure in an enclosed space like that.”

The scientist nodded, then the rest of the team filtered in. Steve took command on the scene, bringing Tony and Thor with him to confront the robot, and left Natasha and Clint to the stealth, hiding in the shadows to provide back up if everything went south.

Nerves ran through you as you watched their confrontation with the machine. It was also your first proper look at the Maximoffs – neither seemed particularly intimidated while staring down the Avengers, but you saw the anger in their eyes.

Then, within a second, the sides clashed: Tony was thrown against the wall, more robots came in to fight Steve and Thor one on one, and the Maximoffs used their powers to interrupt.

“The twins keep stepping back,” you noticed, calling it in through the comms.

“They're new to this, probably don't know where to get involved.”

“I'm not sure.” You kept your mind at work, but unless you worked out their thought processes, there was nothing for you to do or say.

Natasha and Clint were brought into the fight in the meantime, attacking the enemies who came their way in order to keep the fight contained to the ship. A full firefight ensued between Klaue’s men, the Ultron bodies, and the Avengers; nothing much changed on your screens until Thor paused, still in between fights, and turned to his right where the girl – Wanda – stood.

“Thor?” Maria checked in. He didn’t put up a fight against her and only watched as she walked away. “What’s happened?”

She got no reply.

“Thor. Status report.” Steve tried. Communications had been patchy; you struggled to get through to Bruce, so it wasn’t out of the question that Thor would have the same issues.

“The girl tried to warp my mind,” he finally replied, “take special care; I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty.” He trailed off; his teammates might have assumed he had finished and returned to the fight, but you saw instead that his steps had slowed, and he looked around for sights that weren’t there. Tony had done similar back in Sokovia, while Maria’s files of the Maximoffs’ targets described the same sight: even the mighty can fall to the Sokovian’s powers.

“Thor is out of action,” you spoke into the comms; you received no protests from the god himself, so you could only assume he was beyond reaching too. “Watch out for Wanda Maximoff.”

Despite your warning, you were forced to watch as more Avengers fell victim to the Maximoff’s ploy: Steve was knocked into Wanda’s path, Natasha was caught unaware coming down a stairwell, and Clint – well, Clint avoided the mind control, only to be knocked through glass by the other twin.

“Whoever's standing, we gotta move! Guys?”

“Tony’s got Ultron; the others are down,” you told him, “get Natasha, she’s down the corridor from you. Just get everyone out.”

“Good plan,” Maria confirmed, thankfully not noticing how you only sent Clint to check up on Natasha, “Ultron just mentioned Banner so get ready for a quick evac.”

“Natasha, I could really use a lullaby,” Tony said. You checked his camera; the Hulk was on the loose, and angrier than you’d ever seen.

“Well, that's not gonna happen. Not for a while.” Natasha’s head lulled against his hand, totally unresponsive to the world around her. Even with the hostiles gone, you were thankful she had Clint by her side; she wouldn’t want anyone else to see her that way.

Your head snapped up when Maria next spoke, “we need to get everyone to safety.” You nodded wordlessly and got to work setting up evacuation orders, sending in paramedics, and arranging the legal documents as you watched the chaos unfold; all the while, you kept an eye on Natasha, heart tugging at the fear in her eyes, even as she slowly came to her senses.

By the fight’s end, your work had tripled and you knew you’d be running damage control well into the morning, while the Avengers had gained a hostile press, so they wouldn’t be coming home – Natasha wouldn’t be coming home – until they fixed this.

“Y/N?” Clint called you privately, after Maria had briefed them all of the consequences.

“Yeah?”

“Tracking is off, right? Cameras too?”

“Both off. You’re untraceable; even to us.”

“Good. I’m taking them to the farm, so I just- after SHIELD, you know-”

“I get it, you can’t be too careful with these things. Say hi to everyone for me, yeah? And look after Nat while I can’t.”

“Will do. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

Clint hung up, leaving you in the silence of the empty room. Maria had gone out to take private calls of her own, and the other residents were now forbidden from returning. You returned to your work with a sigh – so much for the time off.

Next Part

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

Series Taglist: @fairychev @catswag22 @sapphosclosefriend @romanoffsgal @taliiiaasteria @saraaahsstuff @blacklightsposts @automaticdinosaurtaco @dyslexic-dreamer

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #ikan in the background #natasha romanoff fluff #marvel #mcu #ikan writes

220 notes · View notes

marvins-linguinie · 2 years

Text

steve: oh, it's 4am. time to get up!

eddie: if you get out of this bed, i will actually hurt you.

steve: you should come with me! we could do a morning jog together! robin said we need to be more "#couple goals"

eddie: what?

steve: she said-

eddie: ever.

steve: THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR

eddie: OH, REALLY? THEN, STOP GETTING UP BEFORE THE SUN!

steve: it's healthy. you told me that i should start doing things for myself more, and this is one of those things.

eddie: can't you do it at like 10?

steve: no. i like the dark. it's relaxing.

eddie: okay, well it's dark in here.

steve: i need to feel the cold air on my face.

eddie: plug the fan in.

steve: i want to run.

eddie: steve.

steve: be supportive of me!

eddie: i love you, i do, but when you wake up at 4 in the morning, i really hate you.

steve: come on. it's not that bad.

eddie: 'not that bad'? STEVE, THE SUN ISN'T EVEN AWAKE YET. THAT'S A SIGN THAT YOU SHOULDN'T BE EITHER.

steve: FINE.

eddie: FINE.

steve:

eddie: wait, are you going to that one restaurant? the one with the strawberry pancakes?

steve: i was going to after my run, yes.

eddie: can you like..?

steve: why should i?

eddie: because im your responsibility, and if you don't get me food, i might starve to death.

steve: ohmygod. yes, ill get you pancakes.

eddie: enjoy your run, psychopath.

steve: i can never win.

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steveddie #steddie incorrect quotes

1K notes · View notes

dear-sigyn · 7 months

Text

THUNDER

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.4k 𝒂/𝒏: starting to write this during my exam period wasn't my brightest idea, nor was finishing it at 2am, but hey, better inspiration always comes late at night ;) 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none (that I think of)

You knew it was getting late, very late, and a quick glance at your watch confirmed that it was indeed already past 4am. The storm that showed up earlier in the evening was still raging outside, and each thunderclap resonated like a drum in your heart, preventing you from falling asleep.

At first, you told yourself that it was just the excessively loud noise keeping you awake, but the way your breath caught every time lightning tore through the sky told a different story: you were scared. Worse yet, you were terrified, and there was no use pretending otherwise - you wouldn’t find sleep tonight.

With a long sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed, moving around your room in search of the notebook where all your notes from yesterday are written. ‘If I have to pull an all-nighter, it might as well be a productive one,’ you thought.

However, as you turned your room upside down for your precious writings, you quickly realized they were nowhere to be found. Anxiety slowly began to grow in your chest, and suddenly, felt the weight of your worries about the upcoming heist bearing down on your shoulders.

In reality, it’s been a few days since you’ve started to dwell on everything that could go wrong. Even though the Professor's plan seems perfectly laid out, there are always external factors that we can't predict, right? But now is not the right time to worry about that.

Taking a deep breath and refocusing your thoughts, it only took 2 seconds to remember where they were, or rather, who had them.

And it was quite simple, really. After another ‘lesson’ with the Professor, Berlin asked you - not without adding a few inappropriate remarks throughout the conversation - if you could lend him your notes.

Despite his peculiar character, you got along quite well at your first encounter, and you quickly grew closer over the weeks spent together - perhaps a bit more than you should have knowing the rules - so you didn’t think too much before handing him your notebook. You had planned to pick it up later in the evening, but with the storm intensifying, you promptly retreated to your room without a word, hiding your head beneath your pillow to drown out the unsettling rumblings. It would certainly be very rude to disturb him in the middle of the night just to come pick them up, but that was the least of your concern at the moment, and the lack of sleep wasn’t making you think rationally anyway.

So without thinking too much about the consequences that your next decision might entail if you were ever caught, you decided to leave your room, quietly closing the door behind you, and tiptoed across the hallway.

As you arrived at his door, doubts began to form in your mind, but before they could consume you entirely you softly knocked on his door, being careful to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking others, while already anticipating his remarks about why you had come to see him this late at night.

And sure enough, when he finally opened the door the first thing you saw was a mischievous - and tired - smile forming on his lip as his eyes met yours, “Well, who do we have here? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit at such a late hour, cariño?”

You took a breath to pull yourself together and smiled weakly back at him “Well, you see I’m sorry to bother you at this hour but it occurred to me that you have something of mine in your possession”. He raised an eyebrow, amused, “Is that so? And what could be so important that you must come knocking at my door at …” he glanced at his watch, “... almost 5 in the morning?”

His subtle sarcastic tone didn’t escape you; he knew exactly what you were talking about. Usually, you weren’t opposed to playing along with his little games, but the thunder that continued to rumble outside and the looming threat of another lightning strike approaching made your patience wear thin, “My notebook Berlin, I need my notebook now”, at that you saw his eyebrows furrowed, maybe your tone was a little too harsh, “... please.”

“Oh, you wound me, nena. Why the rush?” he said, feigning offense. But realizing that you were definitely not in the mood, he sighed and continued in a dramatic tone. “For your information, cariño, I had planned to return it to you last night. But that was before you dashed to your room like a flash, without even saying goodnight.”, he said, raising his hand to his heart. “Are you aware of the pain it caused me?”

At that, you scoffed, “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating? Don’t tell me you’re sulking because I didn’t say goodnight; that doesn’t sound like something you would do.” He shrugged and replied, “Maybe I am.”

You were about to retort when suddenly a particularly loud thunder was heard, making you jump and utter a cry. Feeling panic starting to overtake you, you were about to glance down the hallway to check if your reaction had woken anyone up, but you didn’t get the time. With a firm grip on your shoulders, he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind you.

You're unsure of what caused you to break down first—the sound of thunder that led to a completely ridiculous reaction in front of Berlin, his reluctance to return your notebook, the sleep deprivation, or the near-miss of being caught standing in the hallway in the middle of the night just to retrieve some notes. But you felt the first tear roll down your cheek, followed by a second, then a third, until cascades were flowing from your eyes.

When he realized the distress you were in, he tightened his arm around your shoulders, the other coming around your waist, enveloping you in a tight embrace. It was just what you needed to fully let go and release all your pent-up emotions.

While your cries increased, he gently hushed you, running his fingers through your hair. And after taking a few minutes to calm down, you finally spoke again, your voice muffled against his chest. “ … I don’t like storms,” you murmured, to which he responded with a low chuckle, “You don’t say, cariño.”

He loosened his grip to observe your face, but still feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole situation, you kept your head tucked against him. “Hey …” his hand delicately rested on your cheek, guiding your gaze toward his. “That’s it, look at me.”

“It’s not only the storm, is it?,” his fingers tenderly brushed away the remnants of your tears in a soothing gesture. You nodded slowly and tried once again to speak, but your throat tightened, preventing you from doing so, no sound coming out.

“Oh no, you don't have to tell me right now, but please don't shut yourself off from me or even the others like that anymore, hm ?”, he brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over your eyes, “It’s not good for you.” You nodded once again, leaning your head gently against his chest as you closed your eyes, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing. You then felt your own breathing becoming steadier and the tension gradually leaving your body.

You stayed in this position, in the middle of his room, for a moment, and as you were miraculously beginning to fall asleep, the sound of his voice snapped you out of your reverie. "You can stay and sleep here, if you want”, his suggestion was made in a quiet voice, as if he didn't want to rush you.

It was certainly a bad idea, but at the moment, it was the least of your worries. You felt so relaxed, so peaceful, that you murmured a nearly inaudible 'yes' to him but due to your proximity he heard it. Berlin carefuly guided you to his bed, settling you in, and pulled the covers up to your shoulders before settling in on the other side.Finally, you felt sleep starting to kick in. But before fully succumbing to it, you sensed arms embracing you, a soft kiss tenderly placed in your hair and a hand covering your ear blocking the sounds of the thunder outside. A faint smile appeared on your lips, for the first time since the storm began, you felt safe.

first writing done!! english is not my first langage so my sincere apologies for any mistakes I tried to be careful <3

#berlín x reader #berlin x reader #berlin x y/n #berlin x you #money heist #la casa de papel #berlin one shot #andrés de fonollosa #andrés de fonollosa x reader

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cosmictrashqueen · 7 months

Text

I’m still trying to figure out the best format for these little writings, but here! Have some Dick Grayson angst!

💙💙

It was about an hour before Dick came home you had received a text from Jason- a heads up that patrol didn’t go well and Dick most definitely needed some support through it.

After reading that message, you hadn’t been able to fall asleep as the anxiety of “what happened?” buzzed in your mind. Did Dick get hurt? Did a mission go wrong? Did they lose someone on the team? You hadn’t been told about any nefarious plans they were currently trying to stop, and as far as you knew Dick’s patrol for the night was just a normal one of patrolling around the city and stopping any crime that he saw happening.

It was nearing 4am when you heard the sliding of the bedroom window opening, rousing you from the half unconsciousness you had fallen into. “Dickie?” Your voice was quiet as you sat up, seeking out his silhouette in the darkness of the room. The lights from the outside filtered through the window and gave just enough light to cast a soft blue into the room.

Dick didn’t say anything as he moved, his body language that of an injured cat trying to curl in on itself- though he didn’t move as if he himself had an injury. You opened your mouth to ask if he was okay as the anxiety spiked once more, but your words died on your tongue as Dick all but slumped into the bed, burying his face into your chest as his breathing was a little labored.

“I lost a kid tonight…” Those words whispered against your skin may as well have been a bullet sounding in silence. His words were heavy with sorrow and regret, and you knew Dick well enough to know there was self loathing and blame weighing him down as well.

“Oh baby… I’m so sorry.” You say, your heart clenching at the pain you know Dick feels right now. Your fingers gently run through his hair soothingly, “… if you want to talk about it, I’m listening.”

Dick remains silent for a while, his breathing shaky as it seems he’s fighting back crying. Moments later you feel his tears against your skin and his body sags into yours, “It was a bunch of the usual thugs, low names in one of the crime syndicates looking to up their rank. They… kidnapped a kid and were trying to use him as leverage.”

His voice was getting more strained as he talked, your collarbone feeling more wet with his tears, “Oh Dickie… I’m so sorry-“

“That bullet was meant for me. If I hadn’t moved to take him down when I did, it would have hit me and not killed someone’s child. It’s my fault. I should have- I should have��.”

“Shhh, it’s okay…” Your words are soft as you hold Dick, his words devolving into sobs as he finally lets it out.

Over the course of your relationship, Dick has had some rough times with losing civilians, and each and every time it’s like the first time ever. He has so much care in his heart for the citizens of this city, a fierce longing to protect them, and whenever he feels as if he’s failed them, it’s not so much a blow to his ego as it is a new tear in his heart. Dick was kind, compassionate, loving, and losing civilian’s lives on his time- especially a child- was not something he took lightly.

You hold him close as he cries into your neck, fingers rubbing along his scalp soothingly as you can do nothing but be an anchor for him so he doesn’t get ripped out to sea in his emotions.

“I know it’s hard, but even though you’ve been doing this for almost your whole life sometimes things are unpredictable. Things can just… happen. Unfortunately that’s what happened tonight… it’s not your fault. You were trying to save that little kid, and things just… escalated.” You never really knew the right words to say to Dick when things like this happened, when he needed the support and comfort from his partner through tough times.

The two of you stay quiet for a little while longer, his laborer breathing and soft sobs slowly coming to a rest as he calms down more and more. You’d stay here holding Dick as long as he needed you to, though you knew he’d probably relax more if he wasn’t still in his suit.

“Let’s get you out of this, okay baby?” You say quietly, gently pushing him away so you can help him start to undress out of his suit. Even after all these years you still struggle with taking it off him by yourself, so once your fingers begin to fumble he lets out a soft chuckle and sits back to peel himself free from Nightwing, coming back to your arms as just Dick Grayson.

“There we go, much better.” You whisper as your nails gently scratch along his back. Your lips place gentle kisses along the smudged black ringed around his eyes, “A life was lost tonight, and I know you know it’s not the last time it will happen. You’re out there every night fighting, Dickie, fighting criminals from the lowest of ranks to those like Joker and Freeze. You’ve been saving countless lives between your time in Gotham and Bludhaven, don’t ever forget that. I’m not saying that little kid’s life is meaningless, what I’m saying is don’t forget him as you keep fighting to save other lives.”

Dick remains silent until the two of you drift off to sleep together, his head resting on your chest as your arms are wrapped around him. You knew come morning Dick would be a little more recovered from the night, and that little child he lost would be his driving force for new actions taken against the criminals of the city.

***

The following week during dinner, Dick is talking to you about the Avery Fund, which is a new Wayne financial fund he and Bruce agreed upon that would help with family’s who have lost children to the crime rates in the city.

Dick never ceases to amaze you with the efforts he takes both as Dick Grayson and Nightwing to better the lives of civilians.

#dick grayson #Nightwing #nightwing fanfiction #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing angst #dick grayson angst #listen this man has such a big heart and he just needs to have a good cry around a trusted loved one every once in a while #idk how to tag lmao #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 1 year

Text

Young and Beautiful

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) x Reader

Synopsis: DS Y/N Warner uses DI Alec Hardy’s flat for some late night work

Word Count: 4890

Tags: fem!reader, fluff, smut, praise, sweet, very sweet smut, if your name is Becca look away

She didn't even bother to knock, not knowing or caring if he was in, she just slid open his sliding glass door and let herself inside. Then she plopped the case files on his sofa, pushed his coffee table to the side, and laid them all out in front of in her. He'd come round about an hour later, when all the papers lie in their own stacks across his rug, Y/N in the middle eating a slice of toast with a wild look in her eyes.

"Warner, what're you doing here?"

"There's something we're missing, there has to be, and I'm so close to it!" She said, her baby hairs frizzing wildly as her hair came loose from her ponytail. She either didn't care or didn't notice as she stood up, a paper in hand. DI Alec Hardy stood in his own doorway, flabbergasted to his DS rambling in his room at half past 4am. "I think it has to do with Aaron, it's got to be. His alibi doesn't make sense, he won't tell us where he was, and he knew Sophia well enough. At least more than some of the other persons of interest. I've tracked down the local cab company and one of the drivers says he remembers giving a bloke a ride late that night, said the lad was proper out of breath and not exactly chatty. I've already got him lined up to come in tomorrow for more information. As for the trace amounts of DNA in the victims mouth we don't have a match yet but the lab did say it wasn't as disintegrated as they'd initially thought which gives me hope! I've got -"

"Warner!" Hardy shouted, interrupting her speech. "What the hell are you doing in my house half past 4?"

She gestured around her as though it should be obvious, "working."

"And you can't do that at your own flat?"

She giggled, and continued to ramble. When she was really tired, like proper one second away from passing out tired, like she was now, she couldn't shut up. It didn't matter if the person she was talking to didn't want to hear it or wasn't listening or couldn't hear it - having a deaf cousin worked to her favor in these instances - she would continue to prattle on about what she needed to, "no. My roommate's got her boyfriend over and they were proper loud. Could practically hear the bed rattling, and it wasn't doing me any good. You don't sleep anyway so I figured I could use the space to lay it out. I didn't think you'd not be home. Why're you dressed nice? Did you come from a date? Is that what this is? Is there some woman waiting outside?"

"No!" DI Hardy looked halfway offended at the suggestion. "I've just got back from work. Was gonna make a cuppa then keep going til you showed up."

She squealed and went for something on the floor, lifting it up then crawling to a different paper,"I take two sugars."

"I know your bloody order. Shouldn't you go and sleep?"

She waved a hand, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. What I really need is for the world to be open 24/7. If I could only call this bloke right now and half my questions could be answered. You know my order? That's sweet."

He scoffed, "it's not unique. Warner, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uhh, I slept a few hours on Tuesday. Why do you look all high and mighty? You don't sleep either, don't eat. You're practically a miserable little skeleton carting your life way through life."

"I am not -" he stopped taking. Partially because she hadn't stopped either, continuing to chatter about whatever her heart desired. And partly because he didn't know if he was going to refute the miserable part, the little part, or the skeleton part. Or if he even could refute it. He snorted, well he wasn't little. He was over 6 foot. And he could eat more, he knew that. But he often forgot about food until he had to.

"I know a fellow who took nine sugars. Can you imagine that! Nine sugars! You're drinking piss flavored juice at that point. Pardon mh French, sir. He was very strange... called himself Witchfinder as though you couldn't search on the web magic shops. Maybe we should start calling ourselves Crimefinders. Criminalfinders? That doesn't roll off the tongue, now does it?"

DI Hardy realized Y/N wasn't going to answer any of his questions in this state, so he shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea. He took his coat off, tossing it on whatever available counter space there was with a yawn. He wanted to sleep, knew he probably had to, but he'd probably dream of something he didn't want to dream about. Lately it'd been odd mental pictures of his coworkers all hurt, Y/N choked, Ellie crying, hell even Brian made the scene with a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know why he had these thoughts, he'd never considered himself a particularly caring individual over his coworkers. But it had haunted him off from sleep for the foreseeable future.

He made two cups of tea, disposing two sugars into Warner's as she said. Then he walked back over to his living room and sat down, elbows on his knees as he scanned her work.

"Thank you!" She said, grabbing her mug and take a large gulp of it. "What do you think of this, sir? He doesn't strike me right. Can't place it."

"The name is familiar," Hardy admitted. He went to his laptop and started typing away, trying to place the name. "Ah, he's been arrested for aggravated assault. Both charges dropped, looks like some brawls in the pubs."

"I s'pose that doesn't suggest he murdered a girl."

"Doesn't rule him out either, if he's willing to punch a stranger in a pub what would he do to someone he knows?"

She giggled and scrambled for her pencil, "I should write that down for my novel!"

"You're writing a novel?"

"Mmhmm, started it tonight. 'Adventures of Harner and Wardy.'"

Alec set his mug down, and took hers from her hand as well. "Alright, time for bed now."

"What? No! I've got more novel to write and crime to solve! We've not even started discussing the potential that Louise is lying about her husband's alibi. I mean really? She says he binged Big Bang Theory with her all night and I'm all for binging telly but of all the shows you choose that one? The laugh track is funnier than the actual show half the time - is this your bedroom?"

Hardy had helped Y/N to her feet and led her to his bedroom in the back. She was still rambling about the most irrelevant things when he guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn't often make it, so he was glad to note that it was done up well. Warner hadn't slept in almost a full 48 hours and he knew that even with a brain as sharp as hers, it was dull as Katie's without sleep. He got on his knees before her, carefully untying her shoes and sliding them off her feet. He put them by the door and helped her out of her coat jacket.

"What're you doing?" She finally asked as he hung the jacket on the back of the door. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? I -"

"Because if you are hitting on me that's totally okay, but I should warn you I'm getting sleepy so I might not be the best lay. But you are proper good looking so I wouldn't say no." She made a face, "my boss wouldn't like that would he? Noooo, can't call someone proper good looking. I'm not trying to be a knob, just communicating that you've got no problems in the looks department. None, like ever. Personality maybe but you took my shoes off for me so that gets you at least a few brownie points."

Alec felt like he was malfunctioning, his arm stuck out, frozen midair from her words. She just called him attractive. And not just good looking, but good looking enough she'd want to sleep with him! He'd never been used to such straight forward compliments and didn't quite know if he believed it. So he just worked on autopilot, helping tuck her into bed.

"Go to sleep, Warner." He flicked off the lights and closed the door. What the hell. What the hell. Alec blinked rapidly like that would make any of what just happened make any sense at all.

He stood awkwardly outside the door of the bedroom. Should he - is he- what's the proper procedure with this? He should know, he was married once, had enough sex to have a child! But it seemed all that knowledge left the moment Claire stole back the pendant, fizzling his marriage, his life, his career. Now he was left taking uneven breaths as the sun crept up, an employee who's attracted to him sleeping in his bed after 40+ hours of not sleeping.

He found himself back at his laptop, slowly typing out what to do when someone admits to fancying you. But the results were not his thing, videos of very forward men and women moving very quickly into other actions. Alec was not opposed to the action, sex. But he couldn't fathom how to get there. So he sat in his kitchen drinking old tea, and staring at his door.

An hour later he crept in to grab a different tie for work, and saw Y/N completely passed out. She was curled in a ball, cradling his pillow and lightly snoring. She looked content. It made him smile against his better judgment. He left her in there, scribbling a note on a piece of paper he taped to the bedroom door before he left for the station.

Y/N Warner woke up nearly 12 hours later. It was practically dark when she opened her eyes. She blinked away the sleep that threatened to creep in around the corners of her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows to survey the scene around her. She didn't recognize the room she was in, blank walls and bland sheets. There was no personality to it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten a hotel room and just had no memory of it.

Then she smelt a familiar, faint scent. She couldn't place it or really describe it other than she liked it, it was warm. Stupidly, she let her face fall into the pillow to inhale the scent. Oh my god.

She shot up quickly, realizing where she was. The memories of last night flooded her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit." A hand flew to her brow as she tried to process. She'd come here to work because her roommate was fucking her boyfriend into the oblivion. DI Hardy came back, made her a cuppa. She wouldn't shut up, kept rambling about the Big Bang Theory (why?) and Witchfinders (how?) before he guided her here. Then she - "no." She said audibly, she did not make a pass at DI Hardy in his bed, late at night and practically drunk on exhaustion. Her eyes flit around the room before landing on the one piece of decoration, a framed photo of Hardy and Daisy, his daughter. "No." She said again, as though it could stop her ramblings.

Y/N rushed out of the bed, scrambling to find her shoes before she saw them neatly lying next to the door. She was usually very professional, if not a little eccentric. But no one could fault you for being a lot when you were good at your job and solved cases. She brought justice to people, she knew she did. And she might have risked it all because she worked herself too far and hit on her boss. Regardless of how stupid attractive he was, that was still work place harassment.

She shoved her shoes on, forced her arms into the holes of her suit jacket and ambled out into his living space. There were papers everywhere. They covered the floor like a new rug, slouched over the chairs and clung to the walls by hall dead pieces of tape. She looked for her mobile, patting her pockets. Shit, she must have left it in the bedroom. When she turned she spotted a note on the door.

'At the office. Feel free to not come in.'

Oh she was dead. She'd lost her job forever, she would never work again. This stupid blasted career she'd worked so hard on gone.

She ran back and found her mobile among the sheets, shoved it into her pocket and ran to leave the home. Then DI Hardy stood awkwardly at the front door, bags of Chinese hanging from his hands and a weird not grimace not smile expression. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he didn't want to kill her. Good news, right?

"Sir, I am so sorry about last night-"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand, coming in to set the food on the counter. He got a lot of it.

"No, I can't not worry about it. I came into your home, made a mess, took your bed and propositioned you-"

"Warner, we've arrested a man for the murder of Sophia Garcia. It was Aaron Baker, his dad's golf clubs, just like you'd said."

Her mouth fell open, "shit, really?"

Alec gestured to the mess of papers while he spoke, "you'd mentioned something about the cabbie last night. When I went in I gave them a ring, and while there was a driver who picked up a grumpy lad it wasn't Aaron. Sounds like a Christie book but it was his twin. Aaron was cross town cleaning up the scene."

"Not good enough," Y/N said softly.

Alec nodded, "not good enough."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said again, her voice still quiet and meek.

He didn't answer her, just stared for a beat before gesturing to the food, "I didn't know what you liked so I bought two of everything."

"All this is for me?"

"You solved the case, Warner."

She shook her head, "I ... you let me sleep in your bed? I ransacked your house, I propositioned you, and you let me sleep and brought me food?"

Alec scratched the back of his neck. He did not like how often Y/N asked questions. It stressed him out, like he had to have an immediate answer to every single one when he figured his actions spoke. But she looked so confused. He just gestured to the food and went to grab plates.

She sat down in surprise, blinking quickly as she watched him come over. "Just a, uh, an egg roll and cho mein please."

He nodded and shoved two of both onto her plate before giving it to her. He didn't put anything on his plate. Y/N sighed and scraped off half of hers onto his.

"Eat, sir. Please."

He blinked, "wot?"

"I've known you for years and never seen you eat. Just eat the egg roll."

He stared at the greasy food. He can't eat that, he thought and was about to say as much when she shot him a dirty look. Tentatively, Alec took a bite of it. He cringed, he didn't quite love the taste but Y/N seemed pleased he was eating so he finished it off just for her.

When they both finished he cleaned up, and she stayed seated. Then he moved past her to the bedroom, undoing his tie and tossing it, along with his jacket, onto a chair in the corner. He started to roll his sleeves up round his elbows when Y/N waited by the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"No need-"

"Let me. Thank you, sir. For the food and the sleep and, uh, well thank you for everything."

"Of course, Warner. I take care of my people." Not typically this much care, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. He focused on sliding off his shoes, shoving them out of his sight.

Alec jumped - well, Alec never really jumped just blinked harshly and cocked the one eyebrow - in surprise. Y/N was now closer to him, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. She was shorter than he remembered.

"I-If I may, sir?" She asked, lifting a hand.

He had a feeling he knew what she was asking, but didn't know for certain. But all the same he nodded. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, going onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He hadn't been kissed in a long time, and the surprise of her initiating it made him stand there and accept her soft lips against his. When she broke, he could see the fear in her eyes as though she had done something wrong. Alec hadn't kissed in a while, and he felt the anxiety creep in that he didn't remember how. But the look in her eyes made it worth the fear.

He plunged forward, grabbing the back of her neck gently while his other hand came to cradle her jaw. Her skin was soft under his touch, melting as he held her. Y/N's hands came up to hold his jaw, scruffy and itchy in the most delightful way. Her mouth melded with his as his tongue licked along her bottom lip.

She cherished the way his jaw scratched against hers slightly, sighing when he broke to trail soft kisses down her jaw and the length of her neck. The scratch was enough to make her giggle like a schoolgirl, holding his shoulders. He shot back up, hair slightly wild but nothing compared to his eyes as he looked into hers deeply. He needed to be absolutely certain. There was no time for messing about and hurting anyone.

She smiled. He was so handsome to her, but in an understated way. She took the moment to run a finger on his sculpted jawline, along his freckled cheeks and down his crooked nose. No, not everyone might look at those features and call it handsome. But to her, he was everything. Smart, kind, and good-looking as sin. Her finger fell upon his lips, slightly open and let out harsh breaths as he searched her eyes desperately. Alec always wished he could read expressions better, he was terrified he'd make the wrong decision somewhere down the line.

But Y/N smiled, and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before taking a step back. Then she toed off her own shoes, shucked off her own jacket, and began to undress.

He followed her lead, removing his shirt and pants. Eventually, they both stood in front of one another naked. Y/N felt that pang of anxiety in her chest at being bare in front of a man. She'd made it very clear to Alec that she found him to be hotter than hell, but did he feel that way about her? She wasn't ugly, she knew that, but she wasn't a showstopper.

And yes, she could see the surprisingly length of him hardening before him. But didn't every man get hard when sex was on the table?

Alec came forward and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her forward as his eyes took in every inch of her. He ran a hand along her stomach - an insecure area for her - and up between her breasts, before settling it on the base of her neck. The simple action left her breathless.

His eyes were still on her body before he brought them up to hers. She was struck by how deep his were, how warm and brown, they seemed to go on forever.

"Look at you," he said hoarsely, his accent suddenly get thicker. "You're gorgeous."

"You think so?" She felt stupid asking it. She should be confident, she should pose seductively and tell him to strap in the way girls do on the telly. But this felt real and raw, and raw didn't shy away from the insecurities. Insecurities laced with cellulite and hair, parts that feel too pudgy there and too concave there. Never quite where it needs to be, never "ugly" enough for the world to tell you you have a right to complain.

"'Course. 'Course, look at you. You think I'm g-good too?" He asked back.

Y/N smiled, "thank you for saying that, most men don't."

"Don't they?" Alec asked in surprise, figuring that was just a part of the experience.

She shook her head and let her gaze trace along his body as well. He was lean and tall, with thin legs and arms wrapped in gentle muscle. His stomach was slightly pouchy and soft, beneath it his length was already hard at the sight of her. She ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest, mimicking his actions, and let it stay on his heart. Beneath her touch it thumped violently. Then she looked up to see his face, her favorite feature. His eyes were warm and gentle even when they didn't mean to be. "All of you is handsome to me, all of you."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, "you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And if it isn't too crass to say, I'd fuck every inch of you."

It was too crass to say, and even a little cheesy, but it made her blossom with a smile. She threw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into one of his all encompassing kisses she was starting to like the taste of too much. Alec's lips were firm but not overpowering as they engulfed her, setting a tingle from her toes all the way up to her head in a heady giggle. His hands held onto her waist, grasping the flesh there with a sweet intensity. His lips parted with a deep groan.

She walked backwards to the bed, leading Alec until he was over her. His arms were poised by her head, his neck brought down as he peppered open mouth kisses along her neck. She laughed lightly at his scruffy beard, moaning when his lips found the spot between her neck and shoulder that shot straight through her. Y/N writhed under his touch, heat searing her skin. His hands were everywhere, branding her, skating up her waist to grab a handful of her breast, down her back to cup her bum, and feather like fingers traveling over the top of her thighs to the place in between. She gasped as he ran a finger down her slit.

"So wet..." he murmured, not expecting her to be so aroused by him. He'd barely done anything for her, hadn't touched down there at all. Yet she was slick to the touch, heat and arousal. Alec loved the way her chest flushed, her eyes closed tightly as she savored his touch on her skin.

He ran his fingers down, keeping his touch light as he experimentally nudged around. When he found her clit she gasped, her whole body tensing and focusing on the nerves right there against his finger.

"So responsive," he murmured, starting to work gently against her clit as she took shaking, uneven breaths. Alec went to speak again, then stopped. Tess never liked when he spoke in bed, said it distracted her from her climax. So he'd learned to stay silent and focus on his partner's body, her mouth as she fought her body's reaction to grind violently against his fingers. He kissed her sternum, biting at the flesh gingerly. Despite himself, Alec growled into her as she bucked her hips to meet his ministrations.

"Keep talking," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Wot?" Alec asked, taken aback.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes heady with need, "your voice is hot. If it's okay to ask, please keep talking, sir."

Alec grinned his charming, crooked smile. He bent down to kiss along her stomach as he quickened his pace on his clit, driving her faster to a climax then she was used to. That deep Scottish voice rang our praises, some loud enough that she could hear them and clench her thighs, others murmurs against her flesh that made her head feel light and airy. She giggled at the thought of all the beard rash she'd have along her body from him. All the same he told her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was, how lovely she looked squirming underneath him.

Then, as her back began to arch and she could feel the orgasm just a hair's breadth away, he stilled. Y/N whined. Actually felt herself whine in protest. He chuckled, clearly meaning to edge her, using his large hands to keep her legs wide open.

"A-are you ready?" Alec asked, his usual confidence lost to the arousal he was trying to keep at bay for her. His hands were large and warm, holding onto the space between her hips and thighs with a firm yet gentle touch.

Y/N's eyes gazed down to his cock, hard and ready. It looked about ready to burst, but Alec squeezed her thighs to look up into his eyes. They were warm and kind. Asking for consent even in a position like this. It made her all the more sure of her answer.

She reached up for his face, grabbing his jaw and planting a warm kiss on his mouth as he started to guide himself inside of her. He was slow, letting her gasp and adjust to the length inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. Alec paused. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, pulsing desperately for friction.

She nodded, kissing Alec again. She'd never had a kiss like that, so strong and comforting. Kisses were never her thing, she hadn't understood the fuss over them. Just two sets of lips pressed against one another, the taste of the day infecting it. But with Alec it was more than the cho mein or egg rolls, and it was more than chapped lips pressed against one another. It was full of desire, trying to communicate all that words couldn't. She drank it in fully, gasping against him as he started to move inside of her.

Alec was bigger than she expected and bigger than he was used to, and she wiggled her hips to the feeling of being stretched so full like that. He cherished the feeling of her gasps and moans, dipping to kiss every inch of skin near him.

"So beautiful, so gorgeous..." he thrusted in quickly this time and saw her body tense from surprise. "You're taking me beautifully, Angel."

Y/N could listen to his voice all day. Even before she realized he was far from an ugly bloke, she fancied the way his voice poured over her in sexy waves. Deep, guttural, it was honest and raw. He didn't lie, he didn't cover it with some pretense to be sexy. Even when his voice would break, small gasps from the sensations breaking up his sentences, she found it all the better.

Alec leaned back, not wanting to stop kissing her not wanting to miss the view. He'd pulled her hips down to the edge of the bed, him standing and her legs spread wide and resting on the small of his back. With a gentle pace that started to grow more desperate he thrust into her, watching her body flush and squirm beneath him. Y/N threw her arms up, arching her back to take him deeper. Alec was enamored with the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he grumbled, snaking a hand down to stroke her clit. He could feel that he wasn't going to last as long as he would have liked, but by the way Y/N let out little moans by his feather light touch, he figured she didn't mind all that much.

Y/N was in her own world, feeling his voice slide off her skin like oil as she chased her high. His denial of her orgasm earlier made this one all the more powerful. It seemed to slam into her, causing her to gasp wildly as Alec kept firm ministrations on her clit. Then he too reached his climax, grunting in a low voice before pouring out in a shocking spurt.

Then he pulled out, falling beside her as they both gasped for breath. Y/N quickly ambled out of the bed and used the restroom before she came back in, feeling like her limbs were absolute jelly. Alec brought her back to the bed, laying next to her. His hand held hers, thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

"That was incredible," he finally said.

"You could say that again."

"That was incredible." They both paused, turning to look at one another, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

#binging broadchurch #i’m happy the 12 of you who read broadchurch fics will enjoy this #broadchurch fanfiction #alec hardy #alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy x reader #in love with Alec Hardy #he needs love #sad detective boi #fanfiction #David tennant my love but also not sexualizing you cause rude #but I love you and love Alec #broadchurch #god bless Mother Nature for making Becca look away #I’m serious Becca no reading #you know too much about me

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emsgwenstan · 9 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Chap 3 | chap 4 | chap 5

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: alcohol, severe angst, longing, bodily issues.

Note: well… idk just read and find out there may be a lil x.

Larissa woke at 4am to start her day, for the first time in a while she hadn’t the energy to get up and be motivated, though, ultimately she did rise and started the monotonous process of her hair after she prepared a cup of tea to rest beside her on the counter in her bathroom. Larissa finished her hair and make up, she dressed and took her empty cup back to the kitchenette and for some reason she had forgone stepping into her office as of yet and opted to sit in bed with her laptop, even though it was only 6am.

It had been 3 weeks since the dinner at my house, Larissa and I had kept in touch from that time, especially since I needed to return her purse. She had come to the front of the school to retrieve the item and thanked me for the the trouble of driving it out to her, I brushed it off and said it wasn’t a big deal, any excuse to see or be near her was a blessing. Larissa opened messages on her phone to see if there were any missed phone calls or texts from any of her faculty or god forbid the board, but not only did she find a sum of ridiculous unanswered questions, I had sent a text to inform her that the cupboard’s are right to be installed and I’m ready whenever is a good time for her.

She replied with “Is today too soon?” And of course I was already loaded to go and told her the time I’ll be there, if it was fine with her of course. 3pm. She jumped of her bed and suddenly had an abundance of energy to burn, for the next six hours she would fly through all of the work she had been procrastinating on doing for the past week and eventually find herself for the first time in a long time out of paperwork, meetings and duties, until the next week obviously. Larissa had taken to going for a spontaneous walk through the school at the time students were doing their extra curricular activities and stopped at every one to greet students. She asked staff if anyone was in need of her assistance to which they all declined.

At 1:30 Larissa had ended up at the lake, she walked the length of the peer and inhaled a deep breath of cold air and let her tense shoulders drop back into a comfortable position, she checked her watch and debated on staying for a while longer or if she should get going, the latter was the choice she settled with. Some days Larissa wonders why she constantly chooses to wear dresses even in the winter, her only con is because she likes them, maybe I should wear pants, it might be warmer, definitely more suitable. What am I even thinking Larissa doesn’t do trousers in public. She thought to herself.

Back in the comfort of her office, she peeled off her gloves and stood so close to the fire she might have caught alight trying to warm up her ice cold hands, the only downside to this time of year to her apparently. Just as she was about to take a seat in her chair, her phone started ringing.

*Violet Hastings*

“Hello darling.” She answered.

“Hey… um im here, is there any easy way of getting the stuff inside before I make myself look like a fool and you tell me there was in fact an easier way.” I chuckled.

“Your parked at the front correct?” She asked.

“Yeah, just go up the stairs and down the corridor and take a left yeah? I only really know the way from your office.” I asked.

“Yes, do you think you’ll manage sweetheart?” She wondered.

“Of course I will, I’ll get into it and I’ll come get you when I’m done, does that sound alright?” I questioned.

“Sure, if there’s anything you need you know where to find me.” She said.

“Ok, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Larissa hung up and debated just coming to find me but decided not to be a bother and only come if needed. She sat in her office doing next to nothing, she even considered cleaning, but knew that everything was already spic and span, she knows that, otherwise she wouldn’t give extra pays the the ones who do the impeccable job of keeping her office, classrooms and the school in general tidy.

I haled all of the cupboards from the back of the trailer to their destination and stuck in to placing them on the kick boards screwing them to the walls and putting all of the shelves in them as well as all of the chrome handles on each door. The cupboards themselves were a mix of dark blue and grey, the handles were simple, but all together matched very well with the aesthetic of the rooms. It took only two hours to complete the six and with all of my tools and power cords packed up it was time to deliver the items for Larissa.

With no students around it was quite easy to manoeuvre the two huge items in and up the stairs. With a blanket tucked under my arm I knocked on Larissa’s door. “Come in.” She was sat in her chair with her laptop placed in front of her displaying the fourth round of solitaire. “Hey it’s just me.” I said stepping into the threshold, only opening the door enough to shimmy through so she didn’t see what was behind the doors. “How did you go?” She asked, closing her laptop and turning all of her attention to me. “Really good, all finished, but I’ve got your surprise with me so I’ll show you that first.” I said excitedly, rocking back and forth on my heels. “Do you now?” She questioned. “Yes and you need to close your eyes.” I said. Larissa gave me a hesitant look before finally closing her eyes. “No peeking! I mean it.”

Throwing the blanket in the floor, I turned and went back to the door opening both of them, quickly bringing them inside right in the middle of the room, I picked up the blanket and splayed it across the items. “Open.” I said looking at her. Larissa’s eyes fluttered open before her expression turned confused, she rose from her chair and rounded the table she was sat at. “What is it exactly?” She asked in a low raspy voice. “See for yourself.” I said taking a step back, only now is it that i find myself so incredibly nervous, I hope this isn’t to much, what if she hates them.

Standing fiddling with my hands, I cautiously watch Larissa as she takes slow steps toward whatever was beneath the fabric. She grasped the corner of the blanket and lifted it up gently revealing the vanity I agreed to give her and as told I fixed, well slightly tweaked, I had extended the legs, retouched the paint and polished the top. Larissa let out a breath that sounded like ‘oh’ and faced me with wide eyes. “Is that ok?” I asked. She nodded before saying anything. “I-I…” she started struggling to find words. “Violet.” She managed to whisper as she was taking her time to examine it again as if she hadn’t already seen it before. I wandered slowly beside her. “I know that it’s probably not really your thing but I just thought if you wanted to…” I leaned forward and winded the internal music box that’s located on the side.

The melody of ‘once upon a December’ emanated from within it. “I know it’s kinda sil-.” I said before she cut me off. “No.” I straightened up and looked at her. “No. This is… beautiful, truly.” She said. “You still have another one.” I spoke. Larissa moved a little closer to the next covered item, it was far larger than the vanity, she re-grasped the blanket and completely pulled it off. “Oh my god! Is this!…is this a desk!?- for me?” She asked excitedly, she dropped the cloth to the floor and was just about jumping for joy. “I thought you deserved a better one than that crappy thing you have, do you mind?” I asked. “Do I mind!? Are you serious! Look at it vi, it’s so big and gorgeous.” She giggled and clamped her hands on my shoulders shaking me a little. “Well it’s all yours, your very own big girl desk.” I laughed. “I don’t even know what to say, just- oh thank you darling I love it, I love it so so much.” She said wrapping her arms around me.

I pulled away and tried to hide my red cheeks, Larissa’s hands found purchase together against her chest and I could tell she couldn’t stop grinning. After a while we decided to completely remove her old shitty desk and put her new one in its place doing the same with her vanity. “Hang on, how the hell did you get these up here and in the room with me hearing it?” She asked out of nowhere. I should have been more noisy. “I don’t muck around Larissa, I’m quite strong.” I said hoping she doesn’t pick up on the small lie. Later on once everything was in its place, I led her back down stairs to show her the end result of the installations in the classrooms.

Larissa was ecstatic about all of the work I had done, she feels so greatfull for all the effort I put into each and every piece I had made. It was almost 5pm by the time I walked her up to her office, she couldn’t help but go and touch the desk yet again.

“Stay right here I’ll be back In one moment.” She demanded. I stood in front of the fireplace waiting for her to return from the doors attached to the wall of the office. She came waltzing out and made a b-line for me. “Hold out your hand.” She asked, I did as she requested and place my palm up in the space between us. Larissa laid three stacks of hundred dollar bills in my hand, my eyes widened in shock. “Is 10,000 enough?” She asked. “No.” I said mechanically. “No? Another five?” She asked. “Oh god no! Larissa I don’t want this I don’t want any of it, you’re supposed to give my boss the money.” I said still holding it. “I’ve already paid for the schools components, this is for the desk and vanity, I know how much the materials cost, mahogany isn’t cheep.” She said. I lifted my free hand to reach for one of hers placing the cash back in her hands. “I don’t want or need a dollar of it Larissa, their a gift, you don’t pay for them, the pieces I used were all recycled from past projects, they don’t have any value… but I appreciate the offer.” I said. “You’re being stubborn sweetheart.” She hummed leaning closer and shoving the money in the back pocket of my pants. I had to physically refrain myself from pulling it out and giving it back to her again.

“Would you like a drink? A big girl drink to celebrate my new big girl desk hmm?” She asked rounding me and walking to a cabinet, she pulled out a bottle of red and a decanter of whiskey. “I don’t know I’ll have to think about it… yep thought about it!” I said reaching for the auburn liquid. Larissa passed me a glass to pour the drink into, as well as getting a wine glass for herself, it wasn’t a surprise that she had an entire cabinet full of liquor in her office I know if I had to stress over a thousand students and deal with the shit she does, I’d have the same.

Larissa kicked off her heels being done for the day and stood in front of the fire place. Orange and pink hues lit up the sky outside with bits of blue and purple, the setting sun casting rays into the clouds like perfection, I walked to the bay window in the room and pulled the curtains away to get a better view, Larissa noticed me not being near her and faced my position, she gazed at my form and the way my head involuntarily rolled to the side in appreciation for the the sky. She quietly moved to be beside me, I could feel her presence but I didn’t face her. Still looking out the window, my lips twitched into a small smile, the feeling of gazing at something so beautiful whilst being in the company of someone who’s just as- if not more beautiful, felt delightful, felt wonderful, right.

“You look like you’ve never seen a sunset before.” She mentioned in a quiet voice just above a whisper. “I haven’t… well no, I mean not for a very long time, I always get to work before sunrise and after sunset, on the weekends I try sleep long enough in the morning and in the evening all my curtains are drawn, because of the position it sets.” I said still looking out the window. I could tell Larissa was staring at me but I didn’t acknowledge it. “It is stunning.” She said finally looking out the glass.

Returning in front of the fire place, I put down the glass of whiskey an turn to Larissa who perched herself on the arm chair she dragged over. “What now?” I asked almost solemnly. “What do you mean?” She questioned taking another sip of her drink. “Well I’ve never been this…close to a client before, the jobs are done, everything is paid for… Is this it?” I wondered out loud not necessarily asking her per se, I guess just coming to relise that this is probably the end of whatever kind of relationship we have. Is it personal or still professional?

“I don’t think i would just stop talking to you. We’ve become good friends Violet… don’t you think?” She asked. Good friends, somehow that felt like a kick in the guts, it’s not like… well nevertheless this is good, good friends right? Good good friends. “Yes I agree, it’s just that I don’t have a lot of time to see you, your very busy, I don’t want to burden you with being yet another person you have to talk to.” I said quietly. “Don’t say that, I enjoy your company and look forward to spending time with you.” She spoke. I picked up my glass once again and held it out in front of me. “To being friends then.” I jokingly toasted. Larissa mimicked my actions and we both drank more.

An hour later and two bottles down I was sitting right next to her in another chair, with my boots off and jumper discarded along with them. We shared conversation about her staff and my past colleagues before she changed the subject. “So tell me, what do I not know about you? Five things go.” She asked. “Oh fuck I don’t know, ooh sorry.” I apologised for my language, thank god she doesn’t hear the vile things I say at work. “Um… five things?” I said out loud, at this point I was tipsy and had trouble retaining things that won’t want her to know, just yet at least.

“Uhh, I’m 38. My birthday is this month. Um, my parents are divorced, but I’m sure you put two and two together, they have been since I was 3. I change my hair all the time and…. I adore all kinds of art, drawings, paintings, poetry, music, all of the above really.” I spoke, pouring another glass for myself and topping up hers while I was at it. “You?” I asked. “Wow, I do have questions.” She said. “Mmmm?” I hummed in waiting. “What’s the date of your birthday and what was your previous hair like?” She asked, swirling around the liquid in her glass. “My birthday is the 12th and my hair was dark brown and very long.” I stated. “I honestly can’t picture it.” She said. I laughed at her, I had to remember not to show her a photo.

“Enough about me though I wanna know about you.” I said. “Ok well I’m 48, and my birthday is the 24th of February. I was raised in a ridiculously lavish lifestyle that I don’t usually brag about, with both my parents. And… I’ve looked the same for years not very much has changed. I too love the arts, usually when I go back to London I visit lots of museums and spend hours a day just wandering around them.” She expressed casually. “You’re so… cool, really, you’re so lucky.” I said. “Why?” She giggled. “I don’t know, your freedom, your ability to be so free when you’re alone.” I said. “And your not?” She asked. “No.” I said not elaborating, wanting to move away from the subject.

“I have another question.” I asked. “You don’t have to answer, but if you went here and your the principal… does that make you an outcast to?” I questioned hoping not to seem nosy. “Yes… is that a problem for you?” She asked. “No!” I said a bit to loud. “Not at all, just, wondering… I think it’s extraordinary honestly.” I said hoping to easy her obviously defensive demeanour. “Sorry i shouldn’t pry.” I said. “It’s ok, I knew you would ask eventually.” She smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking- what, are you though, you don’t need to tell me I’m just curious.” I asked. “What do you think I am?” She wondered raising her brows with a smirk.

“Let’s see… I know you’re not a vampire- no fangs, not a werwolf- to tame, clearly not a gorgon- self explanatory, I know you don’t have telekinesis- not very Larissa, that leaves siren or a seer, but that’s still not right.” I said her face grew more amused indicating I’m right, I’m getting warmer. “I don’t think you’re very common… something special, different, rare perhaps.” I said, she slightly eased her shoulders, but shrugging trying not to give anything away. My eyes flicked down to her necklace while I was observing her state, a moment went by and Larissa could see the gears turning in my head, the longer I looked at it the more I realised how much she thinks I’ll never guess, little does she know that I can see her in plain sight. I snap my eyes to hers and grin not saying a thing.

The more I gazed into her eyes my smile spread and Larissa’s faded. “I know what you are.” I whispered. She scoffed in an attempt to make my decision falter. “You seem so sure.” She said. “I am.” I stated. “So what’s your conclusion?” She hummed. “You know it’s very clever to hide your identity you do it very well.” I said leaning into grasp the chain around her neck. “But not clever enough… remember when I said your necklace was personally made? I should have realised then.” I traced the metal with my thumb, my eyes boring holes into hers. “You my dear are a shapeshifter.” I said knowing I just won this twisted and unspoken game.

“Very good, your no fool.” She said averting her gaze and taking a large gulp of wine. I sat back relaxing against the back of the chair, my chest flushed and fluttering from the close proximity and the reality of the situation. “Do you have another secret I can know?” I asked randomly to break the silence, still up for conversation. “What kind of secret?” She questioned, seemingly un-apposed to continue. “how about love interest, anyone your interested in or have loved in the past?” I asked pretty care free, the alcohol clearly the one talking. “Oh god. No im not really interested in anyone im married to my career, past loves, that is a whole other story. A whole other story.” She said. “Tell me? Please?” I asked. “Well it’s complicated, maybe another time.” She said quietly. “No I respect that, but it always is isn’t it… complicated.” “Always.” She replied.

More hours went by just talking and drinking, it was never my intention to get drunk, just saying that sounds ridiculous, I hardly ever drink and when I do I still have a high tolerance, safe to say I’ve drank enough alcohol within a couple of hours to last a week’s hangover. Larissa was to, not that would ever admit, so much for me being the stubborn one, she was giddy though and I couldn’t stop laughing, if I was sober and sat back watching as a different person I’d be repulsed, but than again I don’t have it in me to care.

Thinking it was a great idea I stood and fell on my ass-Well my ass fell on her. I was trying to walk around Larissa but my knee gave way and I fell into her lap. “Shit! oh my god sorry.” I said laughing, Larissa wrapped her hand around me to stabilise, but she held onto my waist and wouldn’t let me get up. “It’s ok.” She said trailing her hand further to my hip. My cheeks burned, blushing like an idiot, Larissa didn’t say another word, her eyes flicking around the room, I could feel her stiffen as I tried to get up again, but she tightened the grip, her face to was a shade of pink I was lucky to see through the orange glow of the room. “Stay.” She said, but it wasn’t sexual or flirty in any manner, it almost sounded like a sad plea.

If she wouldn’t let me go I may as well get comfortable, I wrapped my arm around her neck and rolled my hips sideways so I was just about hugging her, I rested my head on my bicep and let my feet dangle over the side of the chair. “I’m really heavy, are you sure you’re ok?” I asked. “Yes.” She whispered her gaze now set on the fire, A minute later she spoke again. “You’re not heavy either.” She said. I could feel myself slightly sobering up and hear my heart beating In my ears. I lifted my head so my chin was resting on my arm as well as shifting my elbow manoeuvring my hand to gently stroke her hair. “God you’re so pretty, you know that.” I whispered accidentally letting it slip whilst looking in her dark blue eyes. She turned her head to look at me, her gaze unfaltering and expression melancholy.

Subtly moving again her shoulders caught my attention, how I didn’t notice before was beyond me. “Ohh, you have little freckles.” I said grinning using my free hand to trace her skin, halting my movements on her hair. “They’re like little stars kissing your skin.” I whispered, my eyes unable to retain the average amount of liquid as they became glassy from the heightened emotions, silly I know but for someone who hardly gets emotional over something someone else would find a common thing to be upset or happy about, it’s a big deal.

Larissa was feeling so many thing in that moment, although it was anything but relaxed, she was calm but also a bit nervous and insecure, for the longest time she hasn’t had the privilege of being called such nice things like pretty, or such admiration towards what’s she deems as flaws, because that’s what she saw and heard, admiration. She isn’t just looking in my eyes when I say them, she’s peering into my soul, finding nothing but kind and pure intentions behind every word. Many people thought she ought to be a cunning woman who’s only goal is to be in control and do what ever she can to get her way, in some aspect it was true but she wasn’t a horrid, selfish or malicious person, behind the layers of professionalism she was just Larissa Weems. Rissa. Just Rissa.

I hadn’t seen my oversized work shirt gape at the front, not until I relised Larissa was looking, but in her line of sight wasn’t my bra nor cleavage, it was the stretch marks. Once it clicked, I sat up and removed my arm from around her and shot up swaying a little. Larissa was startled at the sudden movement and stood, her brows came together in confusion and also fright, hoping that what she did wasn’t what scared you away, but she was wrong. Panic riddled my being, I was becoming short of breath and the alcohol didn't help. "I-I'm sorry Violet, please forgive me that was utterly wrong of me to do I apologise." She said fiddling with her fingers on either side of herself. "Please... please forget you saw them." I whispered just about inaudible, but loud enough for her to hear. "What?" She breathed. "I don't-I don't want you to see them." I said looking at my feet. "No I should have not been looking at your br-... oh... oh." She realised it wasn't what she thought, she did infact look at the marks but only for a moment not even long enough to process what she was doing, this is worse, Larissa's stomach churned and her heart tinged at the thought of me panicking because of natural marks on my skin. "Oh darling, I- I wasn't, I wasn't judging, please you have to believe me." She said taking a step forward, I took a step back.

I spun around and picked up my jumper and shoes off the floor and clutched the boots, throwing the piece of clothing on, I struggled for a moment before it finally slipped over my head. "What are you doing?" She asked. "I need to go, I need to go home." I said. "No please it's late, you've had to much to drink you can't drive... just... stay, you can stay here." She said hopefully. She could see my jaw tensing and it was making her more anxious. "Don't bite so hard sweetheart." She said knowingly. I did stop but I still debated just going home, call a cab or a fucking Uber and leave.

I let out a breath i knew i was holding and dropped my shoes to the side. Larissa did the same exhaling slowly, she took another step towards me so slow as if I'd run away if she moved to quickly. It didn't take long until she reached me and grasped my hand. "Come on I'll put you to bed." I absentmindedly flowed her to the doors that access her quarters. I didn't look around the only thing I saw was the floor and then the edge of the bed. Larissa sat me down and retrieved a pair of pyjamas, a glass of water and meds. "Here you can have these to change into, and have the tablets you'll feel ok in the morning." She had another set of tablets for herself and took them taking sip from the glass than passed it to me giving my own meds. "You don't mind that I had some?" She asked. "No I don't mind." I said with my voice breaking a little.

Larissa let me be to change and came back from her bathroom in her own pyjamas and her hair in a lose braid. She walked over to the other side of the bed and reached over to grab my clothes and place them on a nere by chair making sure to pull out the cash and wrap it into my jumper, when she came back Larissa grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her arm and grabbed the throw at the end of the bed. Turning off the large light and leaving on the lamp she paced to the doorway and turned around. "You think you will be ok?" She asked. "Where are you going?" I wondered. “I’m just going to sleep on the futon in the office.” She said as if I was supposed to know that. “No you’re not, you’re sleeping in your bed, I- I’m… not going to allow you to sleep elsewhere in your own home, otherwise I’m just going to leave, unless you want me to sleep out there.” I expressed. Larissa walked back towards the other side of the bed and threw the pillow and blanket back in place and ungraciously fell into bed. I sat up and pulled the covers over myself and her, I practically just tucked her in, making sure she had enough blanket and pulled it up and over her chest leaving her arm out, she was laying in her side facing me and eyeing my movements, curious, she thought.

In all honesty it’s been a very long time since I’ve consumed so much alcohol, I’m glad I don’t feel sick, a part of me is greatfull that I have an excuse to stay but another part is still trying to retreat. Don’t get too close, she will dispose of you, you know what happened last time Violet. Apart of me vaguely thought. Larissa was cautiously watching me as my brows came together in a distasteful manner she wondered what I was thinking, but failed to ask. I rolled over to turn off the lamp beside me and got comfortable again in my original position laying on my side to face her.

Mindlessly I reach for the hem of her satin sleeve on Larissa exposed arm, playing with it for a while I push it upward to reveal her freckled arms again, I can still see them, so clear, so golden in the silver moonlight. The domesticity of how uncannily stunning just one little part of her is, just about bring tears to my eyes. I trace over them again raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, once I’d had enough and my arm was burning I let myself steal a glance at her, only to find Larissa had already been gazing at me. Feeling the blood rush to my face I went to turn over, however she stopped me from doing so by grasping my shoulder.

It wasn’t just me admiring, Larissa had watched the entire time I was kindly examining, she’s not sure why, but when I’m near her she can’t help but feel so secure, so safe, so… cared for. When she grasped my shoulder to stop me from rolling over, her fingers involuntarily gripped harder to feel the muscle she didn’t acquire, when she found herself doing it Larissa revoked her hand. Her hair is what I focused on, not wanting to hold eye contact, it’s the same colour as the moon itself, just as bright, just as alluring, I stretched out to move the loose bit of hair around her forehead and continued the path all the way to the end of her braid.

What surprised me was that she did exactly the same to me, brushing the bits of hair that had fallen from my ponytail out of my eyes and behind my ear. This time, I looked at her, I really looked at her, taking in every single detail of her face, every line and wrinkle, her eyes. I wish I could see her without makeup. She still adorned makeup but didn’t have her lipstick on, the red stain is what’s left. Larissa let me grab her cheek and stroke it, I ever so slightly brushed my thumb over her cheekbone caressing it carefully almost as if I would hurt her. “I’m scared, I’m so scared.” I said as a breathless whisper. Larissa stayed silent but I could see her wordlessly asking me to elaborate, I shouldn’t have let that out, she doesn’t understand what I mean, I hope she doesn’t, I don’t want her to.

Larissa’s eyes scanned over my features again and she let out a shaky exhale. “I know.” She said, well then. I closed my eyes and moved closer to rest my forehead against hers. Still stroking her face I jutted my chin forward slowly, only a strand of hair widths away from her lips, our breaths deep and thorough. I pulled away to ask permission, Larissa opens her eyes and nodded knowing what I wanted to ask. I leaned back in brushing her lips with my own, she didn’t hold her breath and embraced the moment, both of us letting it happen, Violet… Larissa had grasped my waist trying to pull me closer but I arched my back trying to move away from her touch. Stop now. I did everything to keep that fucking voice at bay, I want this, she seems to want this but I can’t do it. Kissing Larissa was the best experience, the softness of her lips, the alcohol I could taste, she was my every sense, touch, taste, smell, even with my eyes closed I could see her, hear her.

VIOLET STOP. Larissa’s hand just landed on my hip before I ripped away from her completely. I rolled over trying to catch my breath, guilt came gnawing, I squeezed my eyes shut so hard the insides of my eye lids became kaleidoscopic, Larissa was confused, had she done something wrong? Did i not want this? For a while she say laying in the same position just staring at my back, the way she felt so uneasy as to what to do now, does she leave? Does she stay? Her internal questioning was put to a slow when I reached behind me and found her hand, I intertwined our fingers and pulled her arm to wrap under my elbow.

Larissa let out a breath that ghosted over my neck and shoulder, releasing the pent up adrenaline. The longer we stayed there the more I let myself melt into her touch, my back against her front, the sound of her heartbeat. I wish I hadn’t done what I did, but I also know it was the right thing to do. Safe to say the both of us are snapped back to sober at this point and with the alcohol wearing off it won’t take long for sleep to overtake me.

In many, many years this will be the first time I go to bed and I’m not alone, I don’t need a pillow to give the support that isn’t enough, I don’t need back round noise to interject the raging thoughts and loneliness. I have her, I have Larissa, this may be the last time but I know to cherish every fucking second whether I’m in the waking world or not. Her embrace is comforting and gentle, her touch is soft and soothing, as of now I’m going to let myself succumb to sleep and work out what’s going on tomorrow. Once Larissa knew I was asleep she placed a kiss to my shoulder and whispered.

‘goodnight sweetheart.’

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra @readingtheentrails

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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s3mi-ch4rm3d · 7 months

Text

can we stay for a while and listen for heaven?

A/N: my first fic !!!! i wrote this between the hours of 1 and 4am so i hope its not shit asjkffjkd

please please please reblog, comment and like !!! if you have any feedback please feel free to drop it too (:

"You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry. "

desc; veteren!reader x simon riley. he comes home on leave after a (kind of) disagreement. all fluff, some non-sexual nudity (a soft little affectionate shower scene). should be fairly gender neutral!!

"Hear the storm dances outside Something set free is running through the night And the dark awaits us all around the corner But here, in our place we have for the day Can we stay a while and listen for heaven?"

Simon “Ghost” Riley, more weapon than man, almost falls to his knees weeping at the sight of you.

You stand, some thirty-feet ahead of him, holding a pistol aimed at his head with perfect precision. Hair wild and sleep-tousled, one of his shirts hanging to about mid-thigh, eyelids drooped and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ and he swears to whatever divine being still watching that one day he’ll be brave enough to marry you.

He’d poetically liken himself to a man returning home from war, but the simile cuts a little too close.

You lower the weapon, flick the safety on (he narrowly bites back the urge to praise you) before launching it towards the sofa and launching yourself at him. He ignores the burning in his injured side and returns the fervour, arms finding your waist with practised ease. After almost fifty hours awake, Simon allows himself to feel the exhaustion that permeates his bones. He sinks into you – into your warmth, your scent, your love. He fears he’ll never be able to let go again.

You somehow detach yourself enough to blink up at him, eyes still half-lidded. “You’re back,” you whisper, voice so roughened with sleep that he can only make out half the syllables, “thought you were comin’ back next week?”

“Sorry, darlin’. Should’ve given you a heads up.” He hates how fatigued he sounds, even to his own ears, but he can’t keep up the act. Not with you.

“Nonsense, Simon Riley.” Your nose scrunches, voice mimicking severity. The way your mouth sounds the shape of his name ringing through his head like a stricken bell, “This is your home, too. You know you don’t need permission to come back.”

He doesn’t know, not really. Especially not at the moment. He’d half expected you to shove him back out the door duffle still in hand if he were honest. After almost two weeks of not speaking, of dodging calls and ignoring texts, he figured he’d deserved it. The knot of guilt begins to twist his stomach.

You must sense his hesitation – reading him like a book always was a favourite pastime of yours – because you press your face back into his chest, squeezing him briefly before releasing him. He barely has time to mourn the loss of your warmth before you’re hooking your pinky with his, intertwining your fingers.

You lift yourself onto your tiptoes, face hovering just a few centimetres away from his, before you whisper.

“You’re not getting into our bed smelling like shite, Si. ‘M hosing you down."

He watches as the corners of your lips turn up into one of your signature lopsided grins and before he can stop himself he’s leaning in to kiss it, mask be damned. Since there are no merciful gods left, you duck out of the way before his mouth can stick the landing, letting out a squawk of laughter as you swipe out of the way of his arms. He finds his lips mimicking yours beneath the fabric.

“You’re not kissing me til you brush those fuckin’ teeth, either. Dirty man.”

“I thought you liked the way I taste, love.”

You snort, pinky latching onto him again, leading him towards the bathroom of your darkened house. Reiterate your previous statement by muttering a “filthy man” under your breath. The radiance of dawn spills through the closed blinds as the sun begins its endeavour across the sky once more. Simon follows dutifully behind you.

Your unoccupied hand fumbles before finding the string of the light switch. You give it a firm tug and cool light blares into the room. Simon barely has time to hiss before you’re tugging it off again, encasing the room in darkness once more. You hum softly, murmuring apologies as you lead him to the toilet seat.

“Sit. I swear I have fake candles somewhere, I’ll find them.”

An objection rises in his throat, although he obeys instantly, perching on the lid of the toilet. He watches in the low light as you flit about the room, rummaging through bottles and loofahs and sponges before letting out a small “aha!”.

You methodically disperse small, white discs around the room, clicking them on as you go. Warm light flickers throughout the room, much less overbearing than the beacon overhead. You turn to face him again and he lets out a sigh through his nostrils. You’re far too endearing like this; completely dishevelled, all soft smiles and teasing words.

He can see it with a bit more clarity now, the way worry has been eating at you. In the dim 'candle' light, he notices the state of your lower lip, chapped and bitten, and the smudges of blue that frame your eyes. The knot that sits at the base of his stomach twists again, digging in, and he tightens his jaw to stop himself from spilling I’m sorry’s like a mantra.

“You planning on washing your clothes as well as your body, babes?”

Your voice pops the bubble of his self-pity. He blinks thrice, grateful for the mask to hide the downwards tilt of his lips. He attempts to sound breezy as he replies, though it comes out with more bite than he’d like. Typical.

“Figure it’s the quickest way to stop smelling of ‘shite.’”

It’s your turn to sober yourself as you cast your eyes over him, eyebrows furrowing. You must catch it; the way, however subtle, his body responds to his injury – hunched slightly to one side as if trying to curl protectively around it. He straightens his spine at your scrutiny.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper, voice so tender, as you take two slow steps towards him, “your side?” Your eyebrows furrow, hands absently reaching for him.

“It’s nowt, darls. Just some bruising. I…” He rolls the request around on his tongue. He swears it burns, to ask more of you after you’ve given so much. “I need a hand. Can’t really… bend. Sorry.”

Your reaction is immediate. You drop to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his laces, face set in gentle determination.

“It’s no bother, handsome.” You’re quick to soothe, to reassure. Always so quick to give him what he needs. He softens like warm butter. “Get started up there, and we’ll meet in the middle.” You toss him a cheeky wink, face still tinged in a trace of worry.

Never one to deny you anything, he does as he’s told. Starts with his mask – easy enough. He’s too tired to have any reservations now, especially when you’ve spent so many nights devoted to tracing his scars with your lips. He unhooks the straps and slips it from his face, drops the piece of fabric onto the bathroom counter next to him.

His shirt is… a little bit trickier. He struggles to lift it up above his head, but he manages it soon enough. On his own, despite your assurances that you can help with that, too. He’s a stubborn creature.

Meanwhile, you’re dutifully and methodically working off his boots. He’s seen those hands broken and bruised, snaked around the grip of so many guns. He’s in awe of their softness; the duality of hands once soaked in blood, now working so gently to undress him.

True to your word, always, you meet him in the middle. Soft hands ghost over the mottling of bruises littering his left side, shades of purple and blue deep and rich. You frown, casting your eyes up to meet his. Your teeth go to bother your lower lip again but he leans forward to intercept, covering your mouth with his own.

You hum absently into the kiss, feel the graze of his hand against your jaw, the soft exhale through his nose. You both stay like that for a moment; making no move to deepen the kiss, keeping it light and sweet and oh-so tender.

You disconnect, your frown banished. He watches through his lashes, eyes half-lidded with relaxation as you stand back up, hands moving to the hem of his your shirt. Simon reaches to help, you swat his hand away.

“Ah-ah! Just sit back and enjoy the show, Riley. I don’t give ‘em out for free.” You wink, cocky grin rising to your lips. God, he has it bad for you.

“Show me how it’s done, love.”

You put him to shame. Lift your shirt off with one confident sweep of your arms. His hands twitch with the effort to keep them by his sides. The rest comes off just as easily, barring your fluffy socks. You almost end up flat on your arse, cheeks flushed as you slouch against the bathroom counter repeating ‘stop laughing, Simon Riley, or so help me God–’

A few moments later and you’re both in the shower, standing under a stream of water just below scalding. He hisses as the jets hit him, rolling down the planes of his back, slowly loosening the knots along his spine. You’re standing so close, nearly pressed against him, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from slipping an arm around your waist. Your bare forms merge and he feels like a ship returning to harbour. He feels tethered.

You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry.

The way you tilt into his grasp, your arms winding so naturally around him, slotting against him so perfectly makes him think you already know the words by heart.

After a few minutes, you break away. Simon is just breathing out an objection by the time he notices the loofah in your hands. You squirt a splodge of soap onto it and a wave of your signature scent fills his nostrils. His objections die on his tongue.

You work the soap into a lather before gently taking one of his arms, eyes flicking up to meet him for a moment in a silent question. He answers with a nod and you get to work, systematically massaging away the layers of grime and dirt. You work in small circles down his arm, scrubbing his armpits and washing the grit from beneath his fingernails with precision, before moving onto his other arm.

And so the time passes; both arms, across the chiselled plains of his broad chest, down to his navel, spinning him around so you can work your way up his back. Then you’re onto his legs, his feet, before you move on to washing his hair.

He has to stand facing away from you (much to his despair – you look so focused, your tongue almost poking out in concentration), head tilted back to give you access to the top of his head. Still, you stand on your tiptoes, rubbing and massaging the shampoo into his scalp with firm but doting hands. You hum as you work.

He’s flooded with warmth at the depth of your devotion.

Hours or seconds pass by, simultaneously too much and too little time, and you’re done. You guide his form back around to face you, rising up to place a sickeningly sweet kiss to his lips. His body is sagging as the exhaustion finally drapes over him like a well-worn blanket. He blinks to keep his eyes open.

“Your turn?” He murmurs, voice a jumble of syllables.

“Mmh, I’m okay, babs. We need to get you into bed,” you hum. His eyes close for half a second and by the time he’s opened them again, the shower is off and he’s wrapped in a soft towel.

“Our bed?”

You huff out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, Si, our bed.”

Pinkies entwined, you lead him once more. Sunrise is fully upon you now, a kaleidoscope of peaches and tangerines spill through gaps in the curtains to bathe the bedroom in pinks and golds. You guide Simon Riley, now far more man than weapon, to his side of the bed. The man barely makes it to a horizontal position before reaching for you -- a request that you happily oblige.

You settle against him with the same practised ease, curled against his uninjured side, head tucked against his clavicle. He hums beneath you, arms slotting into their designated space around your waist.

A few moments pass. You’re certain that he’s already asleep when his voice, deep and full of timbre, cuts through the tranquillity.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, his large hands dragging up the notches along your spine. “‘M stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t– you don’t have to, Si. I get it.” You exhale against his collarbone, arms tightening around him. “It was a bad time. I didn’t mean for it– it just came out. I get it.”

Simon murmurs in disagreement, but he returns the motion. Arms squeezing your sides like he needs an anchor, something to hold on to.

“I shouldn’t have ignored you. I was a coward. I–”

His head turns, lips grazing over the crown of your head. His eyebrows furrow and he freezes for a moment before whispering, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear it.

“I feel it, too. I can’t– I can’t say it, but I feel it. I do.”

You feel the corners of your lips twitch up involuntarily. This absolute muppet of a man – watching you all evening like you’d hung the stars one by one, like you were some divine creator, some source of eternal beauty that could make the angels quiver. You bite back the urge to laugh, and instead tilt your head upwards, graze your rough lips across the underside of his jaw.

You whisper back, trying to pour as much love and devotion as you can fit into three words.

“I know, Si.”

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mbappeward · 1 year

Text

kylian mbappe imagine - you are sick and he takes care of you

𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

enjoy!!!

-----------------

Sinking to your knees weakly, you reach out to flush the toilet. You groan as you feel your stomach churn again—throwing up was absolutely your least favorite thing to do. You hated it. You would do literally anything to avoid throwing up. And yet here you were, 4am in the morning, hunched over the toilet and doing the thing you hated most in the world.

You hear the bathroom door open just as your stomach heaves again and you lean over the bowl, tears stinging your eyes. You felt really bad for waking him up since he has training early tomorrow.

“Oh, babygirl,” Kylian says softly, and you feel him pull your hair back from your face. Holding it in a messy ponytail in one hand, he rubs your back with the other. “It’s okay, you’re okay…”

As soon as you can, you straighten, flushing away the mess again. You reach up to wipe at your eyes and do a quick systems check; deciding you were okay for just a moment longer, you start to get to your feet.

“Easy love,” he says, releasing your hair to wrap his arm around your waist in support. “You ok?”

“Need to rinse my mouth,” you mutter, heading for the sink.

He helps you get there and once again holds your hair back while you swish a mouthful of water, trying to rid yourself of the reminder. “How long have you been up?” he asks, one arm wrapped tight around your waist to keep you upright. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

You laugh bitterly and spit the water out. “Didn’t really have time to do anything but get to the toilet, and you have training in like 8 hours” you say tiredly, "I wanted to let you sleep, and I’m sure the first thing you want to do is join me while I’m throwing up everything in my stomach.” Straightening, you turn to face him, trying to put on a smile.

He frowns, reaching out to gently push your hair away from your pale face. “What did you eat? Do you think it’s food poisoning?”

You shrug, but soon the sharp cramps in your stomach guide you to your answer. “Maybe. …Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. Oh, babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He leans down to kiss your sweaty forehead. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to decipher how you’re feeling: though your stomach hurts, you don’t seem to be in immediate danger of throwing up again. “Yeah. You should get back to sleep, babe, you’ve got training tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about training now,” he says immediately. “I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get over it…” you reassure him, turning away to head back to the bedroom, but before you can take two steps, he scoops you into his arms. “Kylian, what are y–?”

He cradles you against him, easily carrying you back to the bed and setting you down softly. “Just relax,” he says, leaning over to kiss your forehead again. You see his concerned expression just briefly before he forces a cheerful smile. “I’m going to go get a bottle of soda,” he explains. “I think that will help settle your stomach. I’ll be right back!”

While he’s gone, you lean back in bed, settling gingerly against the pillows and resisting the urge to groan at how much your stomach just hurts. Reaching for your phone, you type a short email to your CEO, explaining that you wouldn’t be in the meeting the next day, then set your phone aside. It’s too close to midterms for this…

Kylian appears just then, carrying a bottle of cola, a bottle of water, and a bottle of sports drink with him. “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, frowning at the obvious pain on your face.

“It just hurts,” you say, rolling onto your side and curling into a ball.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his distress apparent. “What can I do?” Setting the three bottles on the nightstand, he grabs at the sweatshirt fabric at your hip. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Both arms still wrapped across your stomach, you manage a reassuring smile. “No.”

“But—”

“If it’s still this bad tomorrow, then maybe we can go,” you interrupt him, reaching out to put your hand on his leg. “But right now I just want to…”

“Rest,” he finishes for you. Reaching out, he softly strokes your face. “Okay, babygirl, okay. Here.” He grabs the bottle of cola and opens it carefully. “Try a sip of this.”

With his help, you manage to get up and sip a few swallows of soda. “Thanks.” You smile at him weakly. “Hopefully this will kill whatever I’ve got.”

He sits back a little, pouting at you “Yeah…”

“Hey.” You wait for him to look back at you. “I’m all right. Come lie down, go back to sleep.”

As soon as he meets your eye, his cheerful positivity is back. “All right, all right, just a second. First, is there anything I can get for you? Something that will make you more comfortable?” When you shake your head, he frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

You nod, grimacing slightly as your stomach cramps again. “I just…just gotta get through the worst of it.”

He’s definitely not happy about it, but he accepts what you want. Leaning down, he spreads a few soft kisses across your forehead and temple. “You will. I’m right here, okay?” Standing up, he fixes the blanket over your feet. “I think it’s a good sign that—”

Before he can finish, you kick the blanket off and roll off the bed, stumbling for the bathroom once again. You don’t even bother to turn on the light, heading straight for the toilet in the dark. As you make it to your target, the lights suddenly burst to life, and in seconds you feel Kylian gathering your hair again. This time he doesn’t say much: he simply holds your hair back and keeps a careful grip on your waist.

You’re left exhausted, and when you move to sit on the floor to rest for just a second, he moves with you. Instead of collapsing against the toilet seat, you’re pulled into his arms, where he does his best to keep you off the cold tile floor while you recover.

Pressing his lips to the side of your head, he murmurs, “breathe in and out slowly baby.”

You’re too worn out to do anything but nod slightly. With how hard you always fought not to throw up, you forgot how much it takes out of you.

He kisses your temple again. “Ready to rinse your mouth?”

You agree, but before you can even move, he’s getting to his feet with you still cradled in his arms. He carries you over to the sink and sets you gently on the counter, turning on the faucet to a comfortable temperature. While he waits for you to swish the water around your mouth, he’s constantly touching you, squeezing your knee or rubbing your back or tucking your hair behind your ear, little gestures that betray how worried he is.

When you finally feel a little refreshed, you lean back against the mirror tiredly. “I hate this” you say flatly.

This causes the corner of his mouth to tilt up just slightly. “I know, love” he commiserates, grabbing your hand and pressing your knuckles against his lips briefly.

You open your eyes to study him. “I can’t believe you’re even able to be around me right now,” you say. “This is pretty disgusting. I’m pretty disgusting.”

Clucking his tongue, he tucks your hair behind your ear again. “You’re pretty,” he corrects, then grows more serious: “And very sick.”

“I really hope it’s not a stomach flu. You probably should stay away from me, just in case.”

“No chance. I’ll be fine. What can I do for you?”

“Kylian.”

“Do you want to go lie down again? Or…?” A tiny bit of his concern bleeds through. “Do you want to stay here?”

You study him again. He was so protective of you—so overprotective at times—that you could easily see how he was spinning this from a simple case of stomach flu or food poisoning into something much, much worse. For all of his pretending, he was a worrier—just like you. Smiling faintly, you reach for his hand again. “I think I’m going to sit here for just a second longer. Just…just to be sure. You can go lie down again, if you need to?”

Squeezing your hand, he eases himself on the counter next to you somewhat defiantly.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to change his mind, you sigh, but can’t deny how much you like having him near you. You lean back against the mirror, letting your thoughts drift while you wait to see what your stomach is thinking. “I hate how weak it makes me feel,” you admit.

“You are strong,” he defends. “Throwing up is really hard on the body. You’re allowed to feel a little exhausted and ‘weak’.”

You nod. There’s a pause, then: “…I bet it was that macaroni I ate in the restaurant.” Your stomach gurgles at the mere mention of the food.

Your stomach lurches suddenly and you lean forward, he sits forward with you, his expression concerned. After a moment of nothing, you sit back. “I’m okay. False alarm.”

Nodding, he continues his forward motion, disappearing from the bathroom for just a second. When he returns, he has the bottle of yellow sports drink with him. “We need to keep your electrolytes up,” he explains, handing it to you. “Keep you hydrated.” He notices your glum expression. “I know you don’t like the yellow kind, but we don’t have anything else. I’ll go out in a few hours and get you more.”

“No, I—” You shake your head and reach for the bottle. “You definitely don’t have to do that. The yellow is just fine. I just…I don’t want to drink anything right now, you know?”

He caresses the side of your face. “Yeah, I know. But still—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you agree, guzzling some of the drink and showing your own slightly petty side. When you finish, you realize how much you want to lie down. “I think I’m ready to go back to bed. My stomach’s pretty calm for right now.”

He nods and immediately moves to scoop you into his arms again.

“Why ar—?”

“This,” he says, holding your arms around his neck carefully, “is non-debatable '' Looking into your face, he smiles slightly. “Come on, just let me take care of my baby girl, ok? I can’t make you magically stop throwing up, but I can do this.”

You give in easily, hating to admit how much you liked being babied by him but comforting yourself with the fact that it also helped soothe his own nerves. He sets you down just as carefully as before, kisses your cheek, and then crawls on the bed next to you. You try to find a position that doesn’t aggravate you more while he gingerly reaches over you to turn off your bedside lamp, then reaches for his phone. After a second, the quirky intro of one of your favorite calm song plays and he leans back against the headboard next to you. He smooths a strand of your hair back, then shifts to gently stroking your face, absently tracing your eyebrows as the sound fills the room.

Kylian looks over at you and sees you are still awake. He leans over to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, baby girl. Just relax as much as you can. I’m right here.”

“I know, Kylian,” you agree, relieved to feel the cramps in your stomach ease up enough that you can feel sleep pulling at you. “Thank you.”

40 minutes later, you’re woken by the familiar, unpleasant feeling in your stomach. You bolt upright, swinging your feet out of the bed in a hurry; you’re so focused on getting to the bathroom, you don’t even notice the way Kylian wakes in an absolute panic.

As you kneel in front of the stupid toilet yet again, you miserably realize that this was going to be one of those elongated moments, where your body was going to drag out the inevitable for as long as possible. Groaning, you close your eyes and wish for it to be over.

“It’s all right, babygirl,” you hear his soft, exhausted voice behind you. You suddenly start crying “I’m so sorry, i didn't let you sleep” While you’re waiting, he starts braiding your hair; it’s messy, but the style keeps your hair out of your face well enough. He massages the small of your back.

You go to shake your head, but feel your stomach lurch at that exact moment, and any comment you had in mind evaporates immediately. When you’re done, he carries you back to the sink, waiting patiently for you to rinse out your mouth before carrying you back to bed. He makes you drink more of the sports drink, he leared this because his mom used to give him sports drink when he was younger, then tucks you back in.

This time, you cuddle against him, needing his comfort more than your space. “I hate this,” you complain to the darkness.

He hugs you closer. “I know.” Then, “….Do you want to go to the hospital?”

You sigh. “No. It just sucks, that’s all.”

Kissing the top of your head, he murmurs an agreement.

When your eyes open again, you look first at the clock: 8:36am. Your gaze automatically goes to the man next to you, who’s slowly waking up at your movement.

“Kylian?? wake up—training?” you say worriedly, trying to blink the exhaustion out of your eyes. “What— oh”

He shakes his head, sitting up partially. “Don’t worry. Are you okay?” He’s instinctively getting ready to guide you to the bathroom once again.

“I’m not going to throw up right now,” you answer. “Do you know what time it is?” You say shocked because he never misses training.

He glances at the clock. “Not time for you to be awake yet,” he answers mildly. “You haven’t had enough sleep, not even close.” Seeing your concern, he fixes a strand of your hair. “I’m taking the day off. I already messaged the staff about this. Don’t worry, babygirl. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you were feeling a little better, your stomach still felt sick and every muscle in your body was exhausted. “I’m….a little better,” you try to answer truthfully and hopefully.

“Really?” he asks intently, searching your face for the truth.

“Yeah. I’m just…worn out. Not even just tired, but….you know, worn out.”

He nods and starts to climb out of bed. “I know.”

“Wh—where are you going?” you frown, struggling to sit up a little.

He tiredly pulls on a sweatshirt and looks for a hat. “The convenience store. You need more sports drinks.”

“Kylian…”

“Shh.” He stands up but you grab his hand.

You exhale softly. “I know you’re exhausted. Just come sleep a little longer, I don’t need anything more right this second.”

He kisses your forehead “I’ll be back as soon as i can. Call me if you need anything, ok?” Before he leaves, he turns on the TV, knowing how much you hate complete silence. Pressing his hand to his mouth, he gives you a small flying kiss and leaves.

While you are watching a movie, you hear Kylian open the front door. When he appears in the doorway to the bedroom, he’s carrying a plastic bag filled with sports drinks and sweets & snacks. Pulling his mask off, he gives you a smile. “How are you?”

“Still the same.” You paw through the plastic bag.

“Did you infer that I was dying or something?”

He looks up quickly, and you can see from his expression that he’s guilty. “No! Well, I…not dying, definitely not, but…You were so sick last night, babygirl, you had me really worried.”

You smile fondly, your exasperation fading. “You took really good care of me, babe,” you say. “Thank you.”

Setting the bag on the foot of the bed, he sits next to you, leaning over to kiss your forehead for a long time. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well. We’ll get you through this.” He reaches for the bag with one hand, his eyes never leaving your face. “I got all the non-yellow sports drinks I could find!”

This makes you laugh. “Then I’ll be better in no time!”

He strokes the side of your face tenderly. “I hope so, baby girl. But I’m here until then.”

He joins you under the blanket and you guys cuddle the day while watching romantic/movies.

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I hope this is okay!! If you have any recommendations or suggestions, let me know!! <3

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