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#making myself depressed knowing how this family turns out
seasicksilver · 1 month
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good old times
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orcelito · 9 months
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Honestly hate how hard it is to start writing again when you've gone too long without it. Like for fuck's sake man Why's shit gotta be like this
#speculation nation#daydreaming of the early discacc days when i wrote 70k words in 3 weeks. those were the days...#im just... so tired and wrung out and everything is so fucking hard#im barely even Doing anything besides working. my apartment is in horrible shape rn.#what is it about grief that makes life so hard to live man. you lose a cornerstone to your life and suddenly everything is in shambles#and i know he wouldnt have wanted this for me. for me to be Barely functioning bc my brain has been so bad in response#im alive im going to work im feeding myself and showering every day#but i havent been doing the dishes i havent taken out the trash theres Stuff all over my floors and cat messes i havent cleaned#and i dont have the energy for any of it. i get home i eat and then i climb into bed. rinse and repeat.#im just... tired. im so very tired.#i keep wanting to turn to my hobbies to cope with things but it's so fucking hard to stick to#constantly oscillating between manic moods where i think i can finally start moving on (but i dont have the focus to do writing)#and depressive moods where Good Fuckin Luck doing anything besides laying in bed#if you couldnt tell im in the second boat right now. in bed as we speak. and so i shall remain until it's time to go to work#at least ive been going to the woods almost every chance i get. it hasnt given me the power to write but it's been good for me i think#get out of the apartment. experience nature. pick up a snail. you know how it goes.#i kinda feel bad for entering a fandom and trying to dig out a place for myself and Kind Of succeeding#i have a good handful of followers. people who wanna see more of my analysis and fanfic#but i havent posted anything significant in like a month bc i have belonged to the void. all month.#losing family will do that to a person i guess. doesnt stop me from being frustrated though.#negative/
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shimaiitsoh · 7 months
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astridthevalkyrie · 10 months
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honeymoon period | jumin han x reader
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After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.
a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3
warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol
word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)
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There is a knock on your door.
It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.
No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.
Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.
When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.
“Jumin!”
All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.
“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.
Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
“You’re welcome, Jumin.”
///
There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.
If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.
“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”
“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”
He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”
“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”
“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”
It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”
“Come over here and find out, hubby.”
The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.
Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you. 
“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”
“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.
Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today. 
Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy. 
Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.
It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.
But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.
“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.
“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”
“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”
“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”
You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.
Jumin Han is in love.
///
Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.
He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.
It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively. 
“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon. 
“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”
An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”
Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.
The only limit is his imagination.
“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”
“No.” He is.
“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”
“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good. 
So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs. 
“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”
“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”
///
This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.
He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.
And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.
That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.
Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene). 
To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.
For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.
“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.
“What is it?”
Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.
“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”
There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.
“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”
“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”
“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”
That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.
///
Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.
A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”
Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest. 
With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”
You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”
Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.
He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”
Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.
“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”
“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”
There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”
“Anything.”
Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”
Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.
///
Ice Prince.
Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.
It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest. 
Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.
Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.
But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.
“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”
When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.
The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?
“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”
Yes, you’re right. However…
“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.
Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”
“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”
The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.
“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”
“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”
Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”
The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.
“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”
“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.
Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.
///
His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.
Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party. 
He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.
The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.
Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.
So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.
It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.
Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.
Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”
You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”
“I did. Did you?”
“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.” 
This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag  to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).
“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”
Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”
“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him). 
“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”
At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.
“I have an idea.”
///
The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him. 
“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”
Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”
“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”
“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”
“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”
“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists. 
“Excuse me?”
“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”
“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”
“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”
“Call…call the doctor?”
“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”
“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”
“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office. 
“What did she say?”
Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”
///
Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.
It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.
“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”
Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”
“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”
Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”
“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”
Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”
For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.  
“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.
You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.
Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders. 
“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”
His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.
And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?
“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”
He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”
And who is Jumin to ever deny you?
///
The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.
Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning. 
And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop. 
As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin. 
“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.
“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.
The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”
“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”
And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.
Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.
However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”
Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”
“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”
Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”
“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”
“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”
This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?
“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”
///
Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.
Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in. 
“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”
“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.
The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”
“A glass of wine.”
“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”
“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”
The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”
“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.
“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“
“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.
When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes. 
Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.
///
“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”
“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.
You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”
///
You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.
“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.
“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”
The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”
“Likewise.”
For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”
Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”
“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”
“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.
“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.
“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”
You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”
Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”
The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.
“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”
He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”
“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.
How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer. 
Losing his mind is just the beginning.
“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”
He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky? 
You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.
When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.
“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”
Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.
///
Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.
But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)
It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.
Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.
“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork. 
“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”
Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”
“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”
You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.
“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”
And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.
///
The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.
Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.
A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.
When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife. 
You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.
He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.
With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him. 
You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.
“Care to join me, husband?”
Jumin swallows.
None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
///
(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.
But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed. 
Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)
///
There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.
In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.
Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys. 
You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.
The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely. 
///
In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).
Because this. This, is heavenly.
Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?” 
Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.
So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.
You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work. 
Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”
He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”
The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”
“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”
“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”
“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”
“Will do. Bye, have fun!”
With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason. 
You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.
Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.
“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”
“You were meant to go out today.”
A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“
“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”
“I know that.”
“I—you know?”
The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed. 
“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”
Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.
“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”
This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”
Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”
Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).
///
A soft knock on the door. 
“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”
Silence. 
Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him. 
“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”
That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls. 
Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”
None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did. 
Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.
“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”
The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.
The doorknob jiggles.
He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over? 
The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people. 
Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.
“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”
The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”
He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.
It doesn’t work. 
“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”
No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.
“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”
Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…
You.
Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.
“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.
He takes one step towards you.
You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.
“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”
Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.
“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”
The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center. 
It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.
But maybe you’ve just…had enough.
Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.
“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”
“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”
But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.
Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.
“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”
Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”
He hurt you. He hurt you.
But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.
“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”
As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”
“Jumin.”
“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“
“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”
So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.
“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”
He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.
Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.
It’s okay. 
I’m right here, I’m here for you. 
You have me forever. 
We’re going to get through this.
I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.
Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say. 
Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.
You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.
And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.
But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.
“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise knocks him right out.
///
When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze. 
An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.
And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”
“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.
An angel, indeed.
Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.
As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.
But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.
“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”
“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”
“All from home today, my prince.”
Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”
“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”
“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”
He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.
“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”
For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes. 
Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).
Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”
It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that. 
“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.
“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”
“A bad nightmare.”
The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.
“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.” 
His hands grip the back of your shirt.
“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”
Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant. 
“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.
Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.
Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.
“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”
In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.
“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”
“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”
“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”
If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.
But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more. 
Taking a deep breath, he continues.
///
Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.
The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.
The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to. 
He could taste you forever.
But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.
A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.
“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”
It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.
///
Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.
Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.
“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”
He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.
“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”
A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“
Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.
“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”
You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.
Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.
With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?
No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.
Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.
“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”
“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”
“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.
“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”
“Jumin, I can’t—”
“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.
You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.
Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”
Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.
“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.
Jumin’s heart seizes.
“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”
Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.
///
“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.
“You’re welcome,” he breathes.
1K notes · View notes
multi-fandom-imagine · 5 months
Text
•EVEN MORE THE BLUE EYE SAMURAI INCORRECT QUOTES•
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Reader: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch.
Taigen: Some times I whine like a big Bitch!
Ringo: Do you think when Butterflies are in love that they feel human's in their stomach?
Reader: Ringo! What the fuck!
Reader: • • •_-• - / ... - •_• •_• -.-
Mizu: What is that
Reader: Remorse Code.
Mizu: I am even angery now.
Reader: Hey Mizu, what are you eating?
Mizu: A family sized bag of sweets.
Reader...that's not family sized....that's regular sized....
Mizu:Everything is family sized when you dont have a family.
Reader: *whispering* Mizu...nOo
Reader: *Laying in bed* Do you think birds get sad for not having arms?
Mizu: Well do you get sad for not having wings?
Reader: *Choke up* Every single day.
Taigen: If I say I love you will you say it back?
Reader: Yes
Taigen: I love you
Reader: It back
*Five Minutes later*
Mizu: Why is Taigen sobbing face down on the floor?
Reader: I wish I could block people in real life.
Akemi: Restraining order
Mizu: Murder
Reader: What are you five?
Taigen: Yea! Five head's taller than you.
Reader:
Taigen:
Reader:
Taigen:....Please don't kill me.
Mizu: Are you high?
Reader: Am I what?
Mizu: High?
Reader: Hello.
Taigen: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.
Reader: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.
Mizu: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-
Reader: It was me...
Mizu: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.
Reader: Why are you on the floor?
Mizu: I’m depressed.
Mizu: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ringo, please
Taigen: I guess I’m just a bad person.
Reader: Nah, you’re not a bad person. You’re a terrific person. You’re my favourite person. But sometimes you can be a real cunt
Reader: Hey Mizu?
Mizu, internally: There they are. My favorite person in the world, the love of my life. Fuck I just want to stare at them and hold them and kiss them for the rest of my life—
Mizu: What the FUCK do you want?
Akemi staring at Reader: “You look like an angel.”
Reader who wasn’t paying attention: “What?”
Akemi: “I said you look ugly at every angle.”
Mizu *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!
Reader: wh-
Mizu: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!
Reader:why are you screaming??
Mizu: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!
Reader: I-
Mizu: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!
Ringo: Wow, it’s a barren featureless wasteland out there isn’t it?
Reader: … Ringo, try turning the map around.
Reader: You’re mad at me.
Mizu: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.
Reader: Oh, come on. Everyone knows that’s worse
Mizu: Don’t worry, you’ve got everything you need to defeat them.
Reader: The power to believe in myself?
Mizu: No, a Sword.
Mizu: Stab them.
Reader: Don’t kill me, I have a wife
Assassin: I don’t care about that
Reader: That wasn’t a plea for mercy, that was a warning
Mizu kicking the door down: You called, love?
Reader: Here you are, Mizu. Nice hot cup of tea.
Mizu: …It’s cold.
Reader: Nice cup of tea.
Mizu: It’s horrible.
Reader: Cup of tea.
Mizu: I’m not even sure it is tea.
Reader: Cup.
Reader: You need to react when people cry.
Mizu: I did, I rolled my eyes.
Reader: Gotta love knitting needles, I can make a scarf, I can make a hat, I can stab someones eyes out, I can make mittens.
Akemi: What was that middle part?
Reader: I can make a hat?
Mizu: How much sleep did you get?
Reader: Eight.
Mizu: Hours?
Reader: Minutes. God! Taigen, would you shut the fuck up?
Taigen*Fixing his hair*: What the fuck? I didn’t even say anything!
Taigen: how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?
Reader what do you mean?
Taigen: you just seem nicer than usual
Mizu: They can punch you in the face if you want.
Fowler: I could kill you if I wanted.
Reader: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.
Akemi: Did you really have to stab him?
Reader: You weren't there, you didn't hear what he said to me.
Akemi: And what did he say?
Reader: "What are you gonna do? Stab me?"
Mizu, nodding: That's fair.
Akemi: NO!
Reader: *Screams*
Taigen: *Screams louder to establish dominance*
Ringo: Should we do something?
Mizu: No, I want to see who wins.
Ringo:Let's speak about our talents.
Ringo:...I'll start, I like to cook.
Akemi: I'm good at languages.
Reader: I'm good instruments.
Mizu: I'm good at killing people.
Reader: *Does something stupid*
Mizu: What an absolute fucking idiot.
Mizu: I can't believe I would die for them.
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sturniolos-blog · 3 months
Text
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First Bath - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n Oneshot
warnings - angst, (i almost cried but then it gets okay again) fluff, swearing, kissing, cuteeee, birth???
based on this request !!
—————————
9:29am
The back door shuts after Matt put our new baby girl in the back.
“Matt, i’m fine.” I scoff as he tries to help me in the car, i hate being babied.
“I know, n/n. Just take it easy, you just had a baby.” He reasons.
“Like a whole week ago!” I defend myself, grunting as i get myself in the passenger seat.
To rundown, the delivery didn't go as planned. It was supposed to be a natural birth but then we had a complication and i had to go into an emergency C-section, here's how it went.
—————————
1:36am
"One more push, mama. You got this!" The nurse patting my forehead with a cold cloth encouraged.
I let out a groan as hot tears ran down my hot and sweaty face, I shook my head. "I can't!" I let out a sob as Matt squeezed my hand.
Matt shook his head and kissed my sweaty forehead, "You can do it, y/n, i know you can my love. You're so close, n/n. Doing so good, baby. One more and then she's here." He smiled, Matt had tears ready to spill from his eyes any moment, he looked stressed out.
I sobbed, "I can't, i can't!" I yelled out.
"You can, y/n! You're almost there, you cannot give up now! One more and then we are done you got this." The doctor that was currently in between my legs said.
As i was about to push again, a monitor started beeping. I looked too my left, where it was coming from. It was the baby's monitor.
Doctors flooded the room.
"W-what's happening?" I stuttered out, feeling a sudden pain in my lower abdomen.
"Ow!" I winced.
"Wait, what the hell is going on?" Matt said, his hand still holding mine as he had a concerned look on his face.
"Y/n, we have to get you into an emergency C-section right now, if you push again the baby will not survive. We didn't catch this before, but every time you pushed it worsened the baby's chances of surviving and yours too." The doctor said.
"But- i-im almost done, we are almost there!" I protest, "Matt- i'm scared." I sobbed.
"I know, honey, i'm sorry." Matt squeezed my hand tightly, turning back to the doctors, "How the hell did you miss this?"
"We don't know and we are truly sorry but, Y/n, if you don't get into the operating room now we could lose you both." The doctor said as the rest of the doctors started preparing too move.
"No- no- what? I can't lose them both! What are you, insane?!" Matt yelled, tears now streaming down his face.
"Mr. Sturniolo, please calm down, you can wait in the waiting room with the rest of your family."
3rd person POV (still flash back)
Y/n's heart monitor also started going down, her body seized as she shook.
"She's going into V-Fib!" One of the doctors yelled before one climb on her gurney, starting to do chest compressions as they rolled the gurney out and too the operating room.
Matt sobbed, watching his wife. "Y/n!" He called out before a security guard escorted him into the waiting room.
Chris and Nick were there waiting for him. Chris and Nick had smiles on their faces but seeing Matt's hurt, broken and depressing expression their faces changed.
They got up and walked over too him, Chris wrapped his arm around Matt and ran his fingers through his hair, Matt let out a sob.
"What happened, Matt?" Chris asked first as him and Nick brought him to sit down.
Matt sobbed.
"Matt, talk to us." Nick said as Marylou and Jimmy came back with bags of food.
Marylou put the bags down and rushed over to Matt, Chris got out of the way so Marylou could sit next to him.
"They don't know if y/n or the baby is gonna make it." Matt sobbed.
"I can't lose them both, mom, i can't. Y//n is the love of my life i-" Matt interrupted himself with another sob.
"Aw, honey. She'll be okay, they both will." Marylou hugged him.
Chris and Nick shared a saddened look, feeling incredibly bad for Matt, but also incredibly scared that their bestfriend and their niece would not make it.
Timeskip (Still flashback)
Y/n POV
I wake up to a steady beeping sound, i opened my eyes and saw Matt in the hospital chair next to my bed, his eyes were closed and his chest was moving up and down with each steady breath. His head was rested on his hand and i could see tear stains down his cheeks. He looked so tired, even while he was sleeping.
He had his left hand in mine, holding my hand tightly and subconsciously.
I moved slightly, letting out a grown in pain as i tried to readjust my uncomfortable position, Matt seemed to wake up at this.
"Baby, wait." He said softly, standing up and helping me fix my position.
He stood over me and looked at me for a second. "You're okay." He whispered.
I smiled and nodded before my smile dropped, I looked around the room for my baby.
Matt put his hand on my cheek, "The nurse is getting her now, she is one hundred percent okay, and she's beautiful." He comforted.
"She's okay?" I finally spoke.
"She's okay, and so are you now.." He reassured, leaning down and kissing my lips.
"Okay, here she is!" Matt and I pulled away from the kiss as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked in rolling a small gurney with a baby in it,
my baby,
our baby.
She had big eyes, not sure of the color yet, she had long eyelashes and her hair was dark brown, her skin was creamy white but with my tan skin i was sure it would change.
She had a button nose and cute little lips, and her hands were so small.
"Would you like to hold her, mom?" The nice nurse asked, I nodded rapidly as Matt laughed and pushed my hair behind my ear.
The nurse picked up my baby and handed her to me, I groaned in pain as I almost lost my grip on Ella.
Matt quickly put his arms under mine, the nurse reached over, taking Estrella from me and putting her back as Matt's eyebrows furrowed, "What was that?" He asked as he looked at the nurse.
"The doctor said there are going to be struggles, the complication you endured took a big toll on your strength, so this is totally normal, but in a couple weeks you should be feeling better and maybe by then you'll be able too hold her without any problems, and everything will be okay." The nurse explained.
"Weeks?" My voice cracked, i shook my head. "I can't even hold my own baby! How is everything going to be okay?" Tears streamed down my face as Matt's fingers brushed through my hair.
"I know, i'm so sorry. I'll um-" The nurse clears her throat, "I'll give you guys some space." She says, grabbing a clip board and shutting the door before leaving the room. The blinds were closed too so we had complete privacy.
My eyes trail back down to my baby, her eyes were big and bright as they darted all over the room.
I buried my face in my hands and let out a sob, Matt kissed my forehead.
"Y/n, look, baby, look." He pulled my arms away from my face.
I watched as Matt walked over to the other side of the bed and picked up Ella, he walked back to where he was originally standing,
"Put your arms out," He said, I sniffled but complied, putting my arms out.
He placed Estrella in my arms carefully but put his arms right back under mine and helped me hold her as my arms shake slightly. I sniffled and let out a sob of happiness as i looked down at our daughter in my arms, and technically Matt's arms too.
"It doesn't hurt, right? You're not in pain?" He asked to make sure.
I shook my head, "I'm fine." I laughed, "She's beautiful," I said as i looked up at Matt.
He sniffled and nodded as tears flooded his eyes, "Just like her mother." He laughed, leaning in and kissing me.
—————————
Present Time (9:32am)
"I know, baby. But the doctor said-"
I cut Matt off, "I don't care what the doctor said, Matt! The doctor almost killed me and my baby so even if i had all the fucks in the world i still wouldn't give one!" I snap, I see Matt's expression change to a sad one.
"Well at least listen to me." He says, his voice soft.
I look at him and sigh before nodding. "Okay," I whisper.
Matt smiles and grabs my seatbelt, leaning over and buckling me in.
I clear my throat as Matt stands there for a second. He smiles at me, I try to hold my smile back but i give in, giving him a toothy smile.
"There she is." He laughs, leaning in and locking me in a sweet kiss, I hum against his lips.
He pulls away. "Let's go home."
"Agreed." I let out a sigh of relief.
—————————
7:29pm
I rock Ella back and forth in my arms.
I was standing in front of the window, it felt so calm, the air, the silence, the only thing you could hear was the fan in the room and the occasional car passing in the street.
I hear the door open, footsteps on the carpet come behind me as arms wrap around my waist.
I lean back into Matt's arms, he kisses my neck.
"How are you feeling?" He asks me, his breath against my ear.
I smile as Ella lets out a soft sound, "Happy, like really fucking happy, Matt."
Matt chuckles, "That's great, baby." He turns me around to face him, Ellas eyes were open and on Matt. She was so pretty.
My arms tremble as i feel a bad pain in my lower abdomen, my arms shaking but my grip on Estrella tightening, i close my eyes for a second.
I sighed as Matt took Estrella from my arms. I frowned.
"The doctor said this was gonna happen, it's completely normal, but that means you actually have to take it easy." Matt comforts,
I shook my head, "I'm already failing as a mother- i can't even hold my baby," Tears of frustration flowed down my face.
Matt shook his head and held Ella in one arm, wrapping his other one around me tightly. He kissed the side of my head, "No, no. That's not it at all, baby. You're already being an amazing mother. You are pushing through the pain to hold your daughter, you risked your life for her, you went through 6 hours of pain just to have to go into surgery for her, if that's not an amazing mother than i don't know what is." He tells me.
I give him a sad smile, "Thank you for being so good to me."
"Always." He laughs, "Now, should we give her her first bath in her new home?"
I smile, "Yes, definitely."
—————————
7:36pm
"Okay, put her in." I tell Matt as Ella is naked now, he lifts her up and puts her in this baby bath that's especially made for newborns. We put the baby bath in the bigger bath so it was easier, that left us kneeling in front of the big bath as we put Estrella in the small one. (Search it up if you don't know what i'm talking about.)
Ella looks at us weirdly before splashing the water slightly.
"You think she likes it?" I ask Matt as i hold his arm.
"I don't know, why don't we just ask her?" He says sarcastically.
I deadpan, "Very funny." I say before grabbing the baby soap.
"Is that the right soap?" Matt asks me, taking the bottle from me and reading it.
"I don't know, why don't we ask her?" i repeat what Matt just said to me a couple seconds ago.
"Ha, ha. Very funny, smartass." He shakes his head and chuckles.
Wrapping his arms around me and peppering quick kisses all on my face, i laugh. "Matt!"
He kisses me once before pulling away.
I wet my hands before lathering my hands in the soap, i carefully grab Estrellas arm as she give me a side eye.
Matt laughs.
"Shut up." I mumble, washing Ellas other arm too.
—————————
7:48pm
I sit down in the rocking chair with Estrella in my arms. I look down at her and go over all her features.
Matt comes in and hands me her last bottle of the night.
"She's beautiful." Matt says as i feed Estrella the bottle. I nod in agreement.
"She really is, huh?" I smile.
"Just like her-"
I cut Matt off, "Father. She is beautiful like her father." I say, still looking down at Estrella.
Matt chuckles, kissing my cheek. "I love you."
"i love you too, Matt."
—————————
I hope you guys liked this because i knowww i did, i actually had so much motivation and di way more for this request then what was actually requested but i hope you like it anyway. I live for angst. I also am keeping estrella and mailo for further dad matt fics
Taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03
340 notes · View notes
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Hello!! How do we feel about a Ghost x reader where the reader has trouble opening up emotionally. When she does, she feels like she’s burdened him and has to make up for it…kind of “earning back his love” through acts of service. Love your work!!!!
Thank you so much!!!! I hope this is what you were looking for. I relate to this so much😭
Synopsis: You finally open up to Simon about your depression, but end up feeling like a burden after doing so.
Warnings: mentions of depression, worthlessness and being a burden, swearing, angst
I've Got You, Kid.
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“Have any of you seen Y/N?” Ghost had spent the better part of 20 minutes trying to find you on base. 
“Think the lass went out for a walk in the courtyard, she said something about needing fresh air.” Soap said, looking away from his card game with Gaz to address Ghost.
Ghost grunted in reply, and made toward the courtyard. He’d been wanting to talk to you all day. You were fairly quiet the whole week, and not acting quite like yourself. 
He found you on one of the benches in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. He stopped before approaching you to take in your features. You looked beautiful in the moonlight. You had almost looked as if you were glowing. The thing that he'd noticed most of all, though, was the frown that was etched on your face.
"Hey, love." He gently touched your shoulder to get your attention.
"Oh! Hey. Doing okay?" You turned to look at him, mustering a smile best you could.
"I should be asking you that. Are you alright?" Simon's eyes softened as they took you in. He could tell the smile on your face wasn't a genuine one, and it tugged at his heart. 
"I'm fine, just tired is all." You waved away his concerns and looked back up at the night sky.
"Y/N. We've been together for how long? I know when something is off, love. Talk to me, please." He begged quietly, turning your face toward him with his hand.
You took a deep breath and furrowed your brows as you debated on telling him. You'd been feeling down for a while now. Your depression would come and go randomly, but this time, it was worse than usual. You weren't one for talking about your feelings, though. Coming from a family who was not keen on sharing emotions, you learned from a young age to bottle up your feelings. The way Simon was looking at you, however, had you feeling that it may be okay to let him in on your internal struggle.
"I um. Just haven't been feeling myself. I don't feel like I've been doing a great job out in the field, I'm tired all the time, and I just feel, I don't know. I've been feeling worthless." You grew quiet as you finished your thought, turning your gaze to your folded hands in front of you. "I just can't shake this feeling, no matter how hard I try."
"Hey, now. None of that. You've been doing amazing, kid. Price was just telling me the other day how good you've gotten." Simon said as he grabbed your fidgeting hands in his, stroking them softly. "Thinking like that will only bring you down worse."
"Yeah, you're right. It's stupid. Just gotta shake it off." You said softly and tried your best to give your lover a genuine smile. 
"It's not stupid." Simon gave you a warm smile in return and kissed your temple. "Why don't we go get some sleep. It's been a long day."
You nodded your head in agreement, biting your lip to keep it from quivering. You thought maybe opening up to Simon would've made you feel better, but it made you feel worse. You weren't sure exactly what you'd wanted him to say, but his words did little to ease your somber mood. To make matters worse, you felt that you annoyed him. He had enough of his own problems to deal with, he didn't need you adding yours to his plate as well.
Taking his arm, the two of you walked to his quarters in a comfortable silence. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb in bed and cry yourself to sleep. 
The next morning, Simon awoke to your side of his bed being cold. He stretched his arms out to pull you close, only to find your side empty. He sat up hoping to find you still in his room, and frowned when you weren't there. 
Thinking you must've gotten an early start without him, he got up to start his day, pausing abruptly when he saw a note lying on top of his mask, with a pair of fresh clothes for him to wear.
Washed up your mask, and uniform! Was a little dirty, so I thought I'd give it a good clean. Used the soap you like, too. - Y/N
Simon chuckled to himself as he inspected his mask. It'd been a while since it was cleaned, and he couldn't help but smile as he got a whiff of the detergent he loved so much. 
~
Later on, he made his way into the mess hall where he found you sitting with Soap. 
"Morning, love. Thanks for washing my mask." He kissed your brow as he approached. " 'M gonna go get some-"
"Already got it for you! Coffee black with two sugars, and a plain bagel one side with cream cheese and one with butter!" You cut him off, pointing to the spot next to you. 
Simon's eyes widened at your words, and looked down to find his usual morning breakfast sitting on the table beside yours. 
"Gee, thanks, kid." He squeezed your shoulder lovingly before sitting down next to you. 
"Shit, you two ever go sideways, Y/N just so you know I'm single…and more than ready to mingle." Soap joked, dodging a piece of bagel being thrown at him by Simon. 
You chuckled to yourself before gathering your trash on the table and standing up. 
"Leaving already?" Simon's eyes lifted from his food to meet yours, a bemused expression forming on his face.
"Yeah, got some stuff to do. Busy day!" You chirped, kissing Simon's head before making your way to the trash bin. 
Simon looked back to his food before turning to Soap. "Is everything okay with her this morning?"
"Dunno, tried talking to her, but you know how she is." Soap smiled sadly, and his gaze fell on you, exiting the mess hall. "Somethings clearly up with her, though."
Simon grunted in reply, turning back to finish his breakfast. 
~
In the evening, Ghost still hadn't seen you since the mess hall that morning. He'd kept an eye out for you the entire day, not spotting you once. You hadn't even joined him for lunch, which was rare for you. 
He walked into the weapons locker to report for weapon cleaning duty, and was shocked when he stepped foot inside. All of the weapons had already been cleaned, and neatly stacked in such a way that he immediately knew you were the one to do it. 
Ghost took a deep breath, and let his thoughts race. You were always a kind lover, going above and beyond to help him, but this was extreme. For you to do all the things you'd done for him today, yet not show your face much at all the entire day? Simon felt his heart strings tug a little, and he knew he had to talk to you. 
Did he not say the right things last night? Were you still feeling upset? He knew he was bad with words, but he had truly thought he'd gotten better at it. 
Making a B-line for the mess hall, he was hoping you'd still be there finishing up your dinner. 
When he'd arrived he was elated to find you still sitting in your usual spot, this time with Konïg. You were laughing quietly with the man before Simon approached the two of you.
"Hey! I can go grab you some dinner, do you want to join us?" You gave Simon a small smile, and moved to stand. 
"No, I'm fine. Do you have a moment actually? To talk?" 
"Okay." You followed Simon, who was moving at a rather brisk pace to exit the mess hall.
"Are you okay?" You questioned him once the two of you were alone.
"Y/N, sweetheart, please talk to me." He pleaded, grabbing your hands in his. "You haven't been yourself in days, and I thought everything was okay after last night. But it doesn't seem better, and I can't help but feel like I said something wrong."
Your eyes started to gloss over as you took in his words. You felt even worse now, knowing that Simon thought this was his fault. You were the one being the burden, not him. 
"No, no. I just." You paused, not knowing what to say next. You, like Simon, weren't great with expressing how you felt, and were struggling to find the words. 
"I- I feel like a burden. I know you have enough on your plate and here I am whining about being depressed. I felt bad so I.. was trying to make you happy." Tears were now falling down your cheeks, and Simon's thumbs came to stroke them away. 
"Y/N, look at me. You are not, and never will be a burden, do you understand me? I love you more than you'll ever comprehend. I know I am not great at talking all the time, but my God I will listen to you and whatever troubles you may have, no matter how small they may seem to you." He spoke softly, as his thumbs continued to wipe away your tears. "And do not ever think you don't make me happy. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my shitty life, because of you."
"Simon." You sobbed, throwing yourself into his chest. 
"I've got you, kid. I'm always here, okay? I love you so fucking much." Simon wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back in soothing circles. "Why don't we make a pact. Let's both do better coming to one another with this stuff. So that it never gets this far. That sound okay?"
You nodded your head against his chest, blinking away the remaining tears. Simon leaned down to place a kiss on your temple.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, Simon continuing to rub your back. 
"I love you Simon, thank you." You said, pulling away to kiss him. 
"Of course, that's what I'm here for, yeah? Why don't we go inside, I'll draw you a bath in my quarters."
"Only if you'll join me."
"Always." Simon smiled down at you, and took your hand to lead you toward his room. 
—----------------------------------------------------
A/N: Thanks for reading!!☺️ Working on a few other requests but feel free to send any you'd like to see written!
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You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.
half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.
so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff
SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-
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but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.
and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.
theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.
elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling
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like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be
and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.
and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.
“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”
and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me
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and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave
because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.
and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.
and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.
and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO
elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.
and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.
and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.
but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.
so now comes this.
because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.
and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.
anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman
sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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txansngum
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txansngum [English] n. desperation; feeling of great worry
Anonymous Request: Neteyam's mate from the forest no longer able to stand being away from him after a few year’s travels to meet him at the sea.
After two years apart, you are no longer able to stand being parted from Neteyam, and make the journey across the sea to reunite.
Adult Neteyam. TW: depression.
1,394 words.
I had not slept in two years.
Not really, not deeply, not the way I used to sleep - dreamlessly, peacefully, without worries.
Now, I tossed and turned, sometimes I cried, and mostly, I worried. Every night. I began to dread nightfall, knowing what would lurk for me there.
Dreams of him in danger, of him calling out to me to help, but I was too far away to do anything about it.
I was living a half life, doing only the bare minimum to keep myself alive, to make it through the days, weeks, months, and years until I might see him again.
Knowing he was waiting for me was the only thing that kept me somewhat sane. Sometimes I felt I might be pathetic or desperate, but what was I meant to do about it? I could not stop how I felt.
"I will come back for you, Y/N," he had told me before he left, clutching my hands so tightly I thought he might break them, a great sadness in his eyes, and that was the last thing he said to me.
Over two years ago.
"Y/N," my mother said, gently shaking me awake. Though I was old enough to have a hammock of my own to sleep in, it was too much to bear, and so I stayed with my mother and father. "Y/N, hurry," she said, and I noticed the urgency in her tone. My eyes flew open, and my mother knelt before me, holding a small pack and a poncho.
"You must go, now. You father has left for a hunt. You know the way?"
My mother pulled me into a seated position. "What? What way?" I asked, half asleep, hungry, sad.
"To the Metkayina," she hissed, "to Neteyam. I won't watch you live this way anymore. You must find him."
She shoved the pack into my hands, and pulled the woven poncho over my head.
"Go, now," she insisted.
Still confused, I stood up and exited our home. The clan was not quite awake yet, it was still nearly dark outside. As I breathed in the fresh morning air, my mind began to clear.
My mother was giving me permission to make the journey by myself, to leave her and my father behind, and to see Neteyam again.
My steps quickened, and my heart pounded in my chest. I began to run.
"Ta'ry," I called, clicking my tongue. "Ta'ry!"
Only moments later did I hear the flap of her wings, and she landed before me. "Good morning, Ta'ry," I said, running my hand along the neck of my Ikran. "Are you ready for a long ride?"
With my pack slung over my shoulder, I connected and mounted. I could feel her excitement, reflecting mine.
"Let's go," I whispered, and we took off.
---
The journey took many days, but my mother had put enough food and water in my pack to sustain me. In our down time, Ta'ry hunted for herself and we rested - but not much. I was determined to get there as fast as we could.
My stomach was in a knot the entire time. Though I had faith in Neteyam, two years was quite a long time. Did it mean something that he had not yet returned to me? Had he moved on, joined another clan, and found another woman?
It was not worth thinking about, I tried to tell myself. I would soon find out.
The Metkayina lived along a beautiful shore, on a sandy beach in front of a lush green forest. It was such a sight to behold, my anxiety almost melted away as I approached - but it returned when many gathered on the beach at my approach.
Ta'ry and I landed, and she took off again for the forest, hearing the cries of other Ikran that surely belonged to the Sully family. My heart began to hope.
The na'vi here looked so different from my clan at home. They were a lighter, more green color, and I noticed immediately that most were covered in intricate tattoos.
"Who are you?" a voice called, and I saw an imposing man coming through the small crowd that had gathered. His dark hair was piled on top of his head, and his eyes were narrowed.
"I am... I am Y/N, of the Omatikaya. I come looking for, for the Sullys."
"Y/N?"
I scanned the crowd for the voice calling my name, and through the crowd appeared Lo'ak.
"Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "It's really you! Wait til Neteyam sees!"
He approached me quickly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
The stress of the journey overtook me, and I fainted in Lo'ak's arms.
--
When I began to regain consciousness, I was too tired to move or open my eyes. I could feel that I was laying on a soft bed, and I noticed the sound and scent of the ocean near by, and that was enough to remind me where I was... but I was still too tired to move.
People were around me, I could feel and hear them, and then they began to speak.
"She looks so thin," a woman said, and I thought it might be Netyiri. "Look at her face, her hollow cheeks... she must not have been eating enough on the journey."
"Long before that," another woman said, and I felt someone touch my arm, turning it over. "She has been sick a long time. Sick of mind."
She placed something wet and warm inside my wrist, and turned my arm back down.
"She will be better when she sees him. We should have brought her with us, but she was not of age. He has suffered without her, as well, but will not admit it," Neytiri said, her voice full of regret.
"Your youngest boy, or eldest?"
"Eldest," Neteyam's mother said, and I drifted off again.
--
The next time I woke up, I felt more alert. Taking in a deep breath, I stretched my arms above my head and sighed.
"Y/N!"
My eyes shot open. Sitting beside me was Neteyam, and he looked so different.
He was a man now. He was at least a foot taller, with broad shoulders and long braids, but his eyes were the same, though I had never seen them so full of concern.
"Neteyam!" I sat up, and fell over into his arms. Eagerly, he wrapped them around me, holding me to his chest.
It felt as if I had not truly taken a deep breath for two years, and now my lungs were opening up, finally accepting air. He smelled of the sea, and I began to cry.
"You could have died, Y/N!" he chastised. "Ronal says it looks as if you have not eaten or slept in years. You were not taking care of yourself!"
I winced at his angry words. He pushed me back just a little, and took my face in his hands. "You must eat, and grow strong. You have to keep up here."
"Will they let me stay?"
Finally, his face softened. "You think they would send you away? Bah, of course not. I would not allow us to be parted again, Y/N. Not when you need me to survive." His scowl turned into a teasing smile, and I looked down, blushing.
"I tried. I ate! I just... couldn't sleep," I shrugged, embarrassed at the way I had carried on since we parted.
He pulled me to his chest once more. "Me either. I dreamed of you when I did." He pushed my hair out of my face, and pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I had my bag packed, Y/N. I was set to leave tomorrow to come and bring you back to me."
I sat away from him suddenly, staring at him. "No. Really?"
We were forced to laugh at the absurdity of our situation. "Dad said it was finally safe enough to go back, just long enough to get you and return. But you beat me to it."
He wiped the tears from my eyes, and we smiled at each other.
"You must never leave again, Neteyam," I reached up to grab his wrist. "Not without me."
He pulled my face to his, and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Never, Y/N."
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eunoia-writes · 3 months
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Damsel • Felix Catton x Reader
Summary - y/n wasn’t the type to settle down, until she met Felix that is. So when her parents meet him they’re in love her sister however is sceptical
Warnings - implied smut
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“Mate I can’t get that girl out of my head.” Felix said taking a sip of his beer while he sat across from Farleigh waiting for the rest of there friends to appear
“Which one? The one you took home?” Farleigh asked lighting a cigarette before handing the box to Felix who sighed while taking a cig for himself and lighting it up
“No no the one friends with Indi.” Felix said taking a drag while Farleigh laughed
“Oh y/n, yeah she’s a sight for sore eyes if I do say so myself.” Farleigh began before laughing “shame she’s so self righteous. Indi says she’s the most opinionated person she knows.”
Almost like it was on cue the girl came walking in with indi and the rest of there friends following behind. Her eyes almost instantly locked with Felix’s and he swore he could have passed out in the spot while she’s claim the butterflies she felt were purely coincidental.
“Hi guys, you remember y/n from last night she’s finally decided to sack off the books not that she needs them the clever cloggs.” Indi said making her friend chuckle as she rolled her eye’s playfully
“Hi y/n.” Felix said with a warm smile while Farleigh took it upon himself to offer her his seat next to Felix “Y/n, you take a seat me and Indi will go get drinks.”
“It’s Felix’s right?” Y/n asked pretending as if she hadn’t memorised this name the second he told her that previous night
“Yeah it’s Felix, how are you? How’s the head?” He asked hinting as to how hard she was going yesterday evening. Y/n laughed as she got comfortable in her seat
“The head is fine however the smell of vodka might make me vomit so I beg of indi not to bring them over.” Y/n said Felix’s eyes had not left her he’d barely even acknowledged the rest of his friends as of yet.
“I’ve never seen someone drink that many vodka sodas.” Felix joked while y/n sarcastically gasped showing fake hurt
“What are you trying to say, Felix?” She joked while the same smile played on his lips
“Oh nothing at all, y/n.” Felix said and with a playful grin, offered her a sip of his beer. Y/n hesitated, Felix gently held the glass to her lips, titling it carefully as she took a mouthful. However, as the bitter taste registered, her expression shifted from curiosity to a grimace. Felix chuckled, realizing her distaste, and quickly pulled the glass away.
“Not a beer girl?” He hummed and she shook her head “hmmm I thought as much.” Y/n faked her offence once again before indi and Farleigh came waltzing back over
“Vodka soda, your favourite.” Indi said handing her the glass as y/n groaned while the two turned to the rest of the group
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll hold your hair back when you start vomming.” Felix joked his arm falling on the back of her chair casually, in reality his heart was racing at a million mile at the anticipation of her pushing it off.
“You’re on thin ice, Felix.” She joked
The rest of the night was spent laughing and joking with the group every now and then the pair breaking off for the own conversations
“No no it’s not romantic in the slightest.” She argued the group had somehow gotten on to the topic of Romeo and Juliet which y/n always had a very opposing idea to the majority. Felix had no care of the topic he just wanted to hear her talk
“How is it not?” Indi asked her friend
“It’s a mockery of young love They both had a severe lack of self identity because of there limits of freedom their family’s put on them Juliet views Romeo as her only freedom because she’s getting forced to marry Paris she sees herself choosing romeo as being free. That being said Juliet was never Romeos first choice he was just depressed that Rosaline didn’t love him back. Juliet was a rebound not a true love.” Y/n explained while Felix started at her In complete awe
“God you’re incredible.” He whispered to himself but she heard and he knew she did from the way her cheeks turned crimson. She quickly excused herself to the bathroom with indi following close behind
“What did I say? Incredibly opinionated.” Farleigh said to his cousin who simply shook his head
“She’s something else.” Felix whispered
Meanwhile In that bathroom, indi sat on the sink while y/n was in the bathroom stall “you know I’ve never seen him like this, or you like this even.” Indi said just before y/n came out of the stall
“What do you mean?” Y/n asked as she began to wash her hands
“Felix is never interested in what anyone has to say but he can’t seem to stop looking at you listening to every word you say and you you’ve never blushed at someone calling you incredible before especially a boy, what happened to my old I don’t need a man y/n?” Indi explained and y/n shrugged while she dried her hands
“You’re thinking too much into this indi, he’s just a sweet guy I’m still same old me.” She said as they left the bathroom.
“It’s getting pretty late we’re thinking off heading off.” One of the other girls said before everyone agreed that it was time to head home.
“Y/n, could I walk you home?” Felix asked she nodded grabbing her things while the rest of the group sorted themselves out they pair didn’t bother to say there goodbyes just leaving the pub and walking back towards campus.
They talked about nothing and everything all at once as they walked almost too close to one another neither one wanting to take things too far. When they got to her door she stood looking up at him after unlocking the door. If this was any other girl they’d of already invited him in but y/n wasn’t like that
“So when can I see you again?” Felix asked and y/n smiled looking at her feet before looking back up at him
“Whenever you’d like.” She said in almost a whisper
“I don’t know if indi has invited you but we’re heading out for drinks tomorrow you should join us.” He suggested and she nodded the pair were dangerously close to one another both still too nervous to make a move.
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll pick you up at 7?” Felix more told than asked and she just nodded before leaning up on her toes
“Goodnight Felix.” She whispered planting a soft kiss on his cheek before disappearing Inside her room.
From that day on the pair were inseparable it didn’t take long for Felix to start calling her his girlfriend much to everyone’s surprise. Wherever she was, he was and vice versa. The pair were joint at the hip.
“There’s my girl.” He said holding his arms open as y/n and Farleigh walked into the library books in hand. Y/n rushed over to him planting a kiss on his lips as he pulled her onto his lap.
“Hi Fi.” She said kissing him once more mumbling how she missed him.
“Hey baby girl.” Her stomach flipped at the nickname, something about that way it rolled off his tounge made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered to him. If you asked him, she was.
“So I was thinking…” y/n began her fingers dancing up his arm as he pulled her close
“What we’re you thinking pretty?” He asked his hand dangerously high on her thigh
“All of class I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth…” she continued and it didn’t take much more for him to be helping her off his lap
“We’re gonna go.” Was all he said patting y/n’s arse as he grabbed her hand dragging her to her dorm room as quickly as he could.
Flexi had practically moved into her dorm room at this point and tonight was like no other the pair laying in her bed facing each other while his hand rested on her cheek.
“I don’t know I guess everything that happened with Daniel made it hard for me to trust people until you came along.” She said as he listened to every word she said just as he always did
“What happened with Daniel?” Felix asked there has never been anything off limits in there relationship but she’d never spoken about her ex until now.
“He made me do things I didn’t want to do and wasn’t ready for even if I said I didn’t want to. He told me that if I loved him I’d do whatever he asked of me.” She told him and Felix didn’t need to be told what she meant he knew from the look in her eyes
“I’m so sorry that happened to you baby girl.” He said leaning in and kissing her softly she smiled into the kiss, oh how she adored that pet name.
“It’s okay, I have you now.”
“That’s right baby, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” He said as she kissed him again mumbling against his lips
“You’re the sweetest.”
“I’m serious baby, if anyone hurts you, I’ll be going to prison for life.” He said in the most serious tone he could and she knew he meant it. Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his words laughing slightly before adding
“I’ll send you love letters while you’re in there.” Felix connected there lips once again moving to hovering above her one hand holding him up the other toying with her waistband
“Yeah? With Polaroids of you looking all pretty for me?” He asked and she nodded her breathe catching in her throat has his hand slipped under her shorts
“I’ll even where that dress you like so much.”
“God you’re just perfect.”
Y/n groaned half asleep at the knocking on her door “Indi go away.” She mumbled but when the door still swung open revealing her parents and sister she knew she was done for
“Hi darling -Oh!” Her mum said noticing Felix beside her daughter y/n shook Felix awake pulling the duvet over them
“What baby.” He mumbled and she just continued to shake him
“What are you guys doing here?” She asked panicking slightly
“We just thought we’d come for the day and take you to lunch we know how busy your schedule is.” Her sister said not even caring that there was a boy wrapped around her. By now Felix had sat up but was at a lots for words
“Mum, dad, Amelia… this is Felix my boyfriend.” Y/n said nervously
“It’s ah… nice to meet you.” Felix said the air was thick
“We’ll we’re thinking of going for lunch in an hour or so why don’t the two of you get ready and meet us at that little cafe, you know the one we went to last time at 2?” Her mum said trying to bypass the awkwardness of walking in on her daughter in bed with a man she’d never seen before
“Yeah sounds good we’ll see you there.” Y/n said practically shooing them out while her sister lingered back for a few seconds
“It reeks of sex in here.” Amelia added before following her parents out
“God that is not how I thought this morning was going to go!” Felix joked as she groaned burying her face in his chest
“That was so embarrassing.” Y/n mumbled while Felix just laughed dragging her up along with himself in order for them to get ready.
“Are you sure I look okay?” She asked as they stood outside the cafe Felix nodded leaning down to kiss her gently
“You look beautiful baby girl, love it when you wear my clothes.” He said referring to his yellow button up she’d thrown over her dress it practically was the same length as the dress but he still loved it regardless.
“We should head in.” She said grabbing his hand as she opened the door and they headed in. When they got to her table Felix pulled her chair out for her which had her mothers heart swelling with joy
“Hi lovely and this must be the wonderful Felix.” Laurel, her mum said with that warm smile all mothers seem to have.
“It’s nice to meet you, properly.” Felix joked referring to earlier that morning, Felixs took y/n’s hand that rested in the table giving it a small squeeze to help ease her nerves.
“Y/n told us she was seeing someone but I didn’t know it was serious.” Laurel added taking a sip of her coffee that has just arrived. Y/n admired the way nothing had changed her mum would always be the same woman who could barely sit down in a restaurant without having a coffee minutes later
“It kinda just happened mum.” Y/n said her eyes flickering from Felix to her parents
“Well Im glad we get to meet the boy that’s changed our darling girl stance on love.” Her dad, David, said trying to keep his cold front on but he was the biggest softy at heart
“Oh if anything she’s changed mine, she’s really special your daughter.” Felix said looking over at y/n was was looking up at him with nothing but love in her eyes.
“Are you all ready to order?” The waitress asked as she came over to the table
“Yes thank you I’ll have the chicken ceases salad and a Latte please.” Y/n said before everyone else made their orders before her parents started with the usually questions about her academics along with questioning Felix about his.
“Oh Christ.” Y/n mumbled a few minutes later while her parents and sister discussed if it was a red or orange dress there cousin wore to someone’s wedding
“What’s wrong Darling?” Felix asked concerned looking over at her as she chewed on the inside of her cheek
“I forgot to ask for no tomatos.” She said and Felix couldn’t help but smile as she pouted slightly
“Oh! Don’t worry I’ve got you.” Felix flags down the waitress that took down there order previously
“I don’t want to be a pain.” She whispered
“I’m sure they won’t mind.” Felix squeezed her hand softly as the waitress approached the table, Felix gave the girl a warm smile; “I’m awfully sorry but my girlfriend here was being her usual thinking of a million and one things at a time and forgot to ask is there any chance we could get no dressing on that salad.”
“It’s really no problem if not, it’s my fault honestly.” Y/n interjected not wanting to be a pain
“That’s not a problem at all I’ll go tell the kitchen now.” The waitress said with a smile before rushing off towards the kitchen
“See pretty, told you they wouldn’t mind.” Felix said pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple as she smiled
“What would I do without you hey?” She half joked leaning her head on his shoulder for a few seconds
“Perish, I believe.” Everyone but her sister laughed at his joke while Amelia shoot y/n a strange look, one that she couldn’t quit read. Felix pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before politely excusing himself to the bathroom.
“Oh he’s just lovely, y/n.” Laurel said just as he was out of earshot
“I’m glad you like him.” Y/n smiled, she’d never been this nervous to introduce someone to her family but Felix was charming as ever she didn’t need to worry at all
“It’s nice to see someone treating my girl that way she deserves.” Her dad added
“I’m so happy for you, I know it’s been difficult after Daniel but oh Felix is just perfect for you.” Laurel said reaching over to sqeeze her daughters hand
“It really means a lot that you think that, I was really nervous for you to meet him especially after this morning.” Y/n admitted taking a sip of her water
“Oh don’t be silly, that’s nonsense we should have called first.”
“Do you like him melia?” Y/n asked looking at her sister who had been awfully quiet Amelia shrugged
“He seems alright.” Y/n frowned slightly disappointed her sister wasn’t more enthusiastic about her relationship
“Just alright?” Y/n asked and once again her sister shrugged
“I don’t know him so I can’t give an option.”
The rest of the lunch went swimmingly her parents telling Felix how much they adored him and how perfect he was for their daughter. Y/n getting all shy when Felix and her dad make a joke about him making sure to give them a call when he decides to ask for her hand in which he responded oh don’t worry I plan on it
Y/n had convinced her sister to stay with her and Felix for the evening insisting she gets a taste of Oxford for when she starts In Autumn. They had decided to get the group together and head to the local pub they always went to.
Y/n sensing the need for a breath of fresh air, leads her sister into the Pubs smoking area, a sanctuary of sorts in the midst of all the madness. The cold breeze nips at their faces as they find a secluded corner. Surrounded by the soft hum of distant traffic, Amelia breaks the silence.
“Y/n, do you really like Felix I mean come on this is nothing like you.” She asks watching as her sister takes a drag of her cigarette looking at Amelia confused
“What do you mean?” Y/n asked watching the way Amelia sighed as she sat on the wall letting y/n join her
“All of it you know, him calling you Darling, acting as if you’re codependent what happened to feminist iconic y/f/n.” Amelia asked and y/n let out a soft chuckle knowing exactly what Amelia was getting at
“First of all, i am a feminist obviously and you know as well as I do that I'm fine without a man but But don’t know I think I would his protection.” Y/n half joked but Amelia was dead serious about the topic
“But you’re not some damsel in distress though y/n.”
“That not the point though Amelia, I like that he wants to protect me I like that he wants to Wrap his arm around me, And tell me that he’ll keep me safe and before you say it I know I can protect myself But when he does it for me, it's hot as hell.” Y/n explained smiling as she thought about her boyfriend and how he’d just do anything for her without her even having to ask that of him.
“I just don’t want him to dim your light because yes he seems wonderful and I’m sure he’s lovely but you are everything. he is just a boy.” Amelia said. She had always admired her sister more than she cared to admit and it would kill her to see her lose the glimmer in her eyes over some boy.
“You know me better than I know myself that would never happen and he knows that.” Y/n put her cigarette out just as Felix came wondering outside his face lighting up when his eyes fell on the pair
“There you two are I’ve been searching all over.” He said as y/n stood up from her spot letting Felix wrap his arm around her waist and press a kiss to her temple as she melted into the embrace
“Hi darling.” She said looking up at him with nothing but adoration behind her eyes
“How’s my sweet girl, what we chatting about?” He asked looking too her sister and back to y/n
“I’m good and we were just talking about Amelia coming to Oxford next year.” Y/n shot her sister a wink as Amelia then stoop up
“Oh you’d love it here plus you’d fit right in everyone loves your sister they’re bound to love you.” Felix told Amelia who smiled looking at her sister
“It’s impossible not to love Her.”
“Oh don’t I know it, your sister here is one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met she has this way of making you feel like you’re the most important person in the room without ever making herself smaller she’s incredible, darling you’re incredible.” He rambled gushing about his girlfriend who couldn’t help but blush
“You’re just the sweetest aren’t you.” She said leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek
“I’ll give it to you y/n, he’s far better than all the others.” Amelia said making Felix smile
“I’m going to take that compliment.”
350 notes · View notes
homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months
Text
K.I.A. | Oneshot
(A/N) This one could really hit hard. Please take care of yourself.
Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)
Warning: lots of angst, death of a loved one, depression, grief, alcohol, comfort in the end
Synopsis: I don't think there is a need for a synopsis. The title says it all.
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It was supposed to be fine.
It was supposed to be safe.
“It’s going to be a quick and easy mission, love. I’ll be back in no time.”
That’s what he had said.
That’s what he had promised.
But he lied.
The mission wasn’t quick. It wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t be back in no time.
He was dead.
Killed in action, an honorable death.
To hell with them. To hell with their honorable death. Death isn’t honorable, death is death. And now he’s gone. And I’ll never see him again.
It’s his funeral and I can’t even look at them. The ones that survived. Price, Soap, Gaz. They all came back but he didn’t. He didn’t and he never will.
They hand me a flag, folded into a triangle. If I could, I would throw it at their heads. If I could, I would yell at them. If I could, I would I hit them. But I can’t. I can’t do anything, but stand there, hold that stupid flag and cry while they fire off their shots. I can’t do anything.
Well, I can do something. I can lie in bed. I can cry, a lot. I can ignore my hunger until I almost throw up. I can see his shadow, trick myself into thinking that he’s back. That he’s alive.
And I can think of him. Of all the good memories. How we met. The first time we kissed. How he asked me out. Our first date. The birthday he gave me the puppy.
The puppy…at the though of Riley, I sit up. At least until I realise that my mom took her after the funeral. She was safe, cared for. I was alone. So fucking alone.
I don’t know how much time passed, a week? Maybe a month. Perhaps even two.
I finally get up and take a shower. I smell after all.
The shower feels incredibly small without Simon behind me.
And that’s how I start crying again. I sit under the stream for what feels like hours before I finally find the strength to get out and dry off my body before falling back onto my bed.
But now it’s getting better.
I take showers from time to time.
Sometimes I even eat some food. I don’t cook anything, everything I’ve had, had spoiled by now, but I just order in.
It’s been four months since Price stood at my door and told me he was dead. That Simon would never come back. And I’ve finally found a way to dull the pain.
Alcohol isn’t the answer, of course. But for now it’s the only thing that is making me feel even slightly alive.
I spent most my day at the bar nearby, what else am I supposed to do?
Home makes me think about Simon.
Work makes me think about Simon.
Hanging out with my family or friends make me think of Simon.
We had never gone to this bar together, so I’m safe here. And the alcohol drowns out my thoughts of him. Well, most of them anyway. At least it leaves enough sense to find my way back home.
It’s become some sort of ritual. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to the bar, get shitfaced and go back home.
Today isn’t any different. Why should it be? But why…does it feel different.
I usually spend multiple hours there, but today I just want to get back home. After I pay for the drink I actually had, I make my way home. But I feel watched, the whole way back. At least I’ll feel better as soon as I’m in bed.
I unlock the front door and walk inside, not paying any mind to the big shadow standing in the hallway, or to how similar it looks to Simon. Instead, I lock the door behind me and shrug off the jacket I’m wearing, hanging it up.
I walk past the shadow and to the staircase leading up and to the bedroom I share…shared with Simon. But something stops me. One word.
“Love?”
I freeze not moving a single muscle. It can’t be him. But it sounds like him. But he’s dead. But it looks like him.
Stiff, almost like a robot, I turn around and look at the shadow. And I see Simon.
“You’re not real.”
I shake my head and start walking up the stairs.
“Love, it’s me. I’m sorry, I-”
I cut him off as I spin around and slap him across the face. That used to get rid of the hallucinations, but…he’s still here. His head whips to the right from the impact, but he doesn’t move.
“Simon…”
He looks at me. He is here. So I touch him.
I place my hands against his chest, against his beating heart.
And it is beating. He is alive. He is here.
I move my hands to his shoulder. They are as broad and hard as I remember.
I move them to his neck, feel his pulse. He is here. He is alive.
“Simon.”
I only realise that I’m crying when Simon lifts his hands and carefully wipes them away.
“Simon.”
A sob wracks through me and I let him wrap his arms around me.
Another sob and I let him pull me closer.
My body shakes as he holds it to his.
His body. Firm and warm. Hard, covered in muscles.
He is here. He is alive.
“You were dead.”
He tightens his hold on me.
“I know, love. I know.”
I claw at his jacket, trying to get him closer.
“I cried for you.”
Again, his hold tightens.
“I know. I wish I could’ve done something. All I could do was watch.”
I continue to cry and sob in his arms.
At some point, Simon picks me up and carries me upstairs. But not to the bed. To the bathroom.
Carefully, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub before he turns on the shower. With hands, as gentle as I remember them, he undresses me, before he undresses himself.
He navigates me into the shower, before he carefully washes me. All the while, holding me close and consoling me whenever I have another break down.
And then, he leaves me there. He leaves the water on and it feels like he’s gone again. Maybe I just imagined him. Him being here. Him consoling me. Him taking care of me.
But I didn’t.
He joins me in the shower again after ten minutes.
“I just changed the sheets real quick. Let’s get you out of here, princess.”
Once again he picks me up and carries me to the edge of the bathtub. He had placed a towel there, so I don’t feel the cold of the metal when he sets me down.
Carefully, as if I were made out of porcelain he dried my body before he pulled one of his old t-shirts over my head. Once he is dry as well, he carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed, before he gently tugs me in.
“I’ll be right back, my love. I’ll just get you a glass of water.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and is about to walk away when I catch his wrist.
“Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”
He turns to look at me and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“Simon, please. I…I can’t loose you again.”
Tears are rolling down my cheeks again. And this is what he needed.
He nods and climbs into bed beside me, immediately pulling me close against his chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry my love. I’ll never leave you again. I promise. Never again.”
I nod but continue to sob into his chest. And this is how I fall asleep.
I wake up the next morning, alone in bed.
“Simon? Simon!”
Without thinking, I try to rush to the door, but my feet get tangled in the sheets. I fall to the floor, but get up immediately.
Please let him be there. Please let him be alive. Please.
Please please please please please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple-
“Love? Are you alright?”
He is here. He is alive.
“You…you are here. You are alive.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His arms immediately wrap around me and support my weight completely.
“Ssh, it’s okay my love. I’m here. I promise you I’m here.”
Like a baby, he started to gently bounce me up and down until I slowly started to calm down. Now I know why that works on babies.
For the rest of the morning, I stay there, wrapped securely in his arms, while he cooks pancakes and cleans the dishes. I even eat in his arms.
And even after that, I’m hesitant to leave them. But I do. I let him set me down on the couch and watch him as he flies through the house and cleaned the messes that had accumulated since his ‘death’.
His ‘death’.
“Why?”
Simon stops in his tracks and turns to look at me.
“Why what, my love?”
I sigh, already feeling bad about asking this question. But I need to know.
“Why did you fake your death? And why didn’t you tell me?”
Now Simon sighs. He puts away the broom and sits down next to me.
“There was a mole in the 141 and we had to flush them out. This was the only way we could think of. I’m so so sorry love. I promise, I tried my best to get them to change their mind. Or to at least let me tell you, but the mole…he had to buy it and…”
“They were afraid I wouldn’t fake it well enough.”
Simon nods, sadness clear in his eyes.
I nod. And I can’t say that I don’t understand. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating him. I just never thought it would go that far.
“Si…please never do that again.”
He shakes his head and picks me up, putting me down on his lap.
“Never, princess. I’ll never leave you again. I swear on my grave.”
At that statement I pull back slightly and look at him. His lips were pulled into a slight smile. And then I start laughing.
“You are such an idiot.”
Simon chuckles and nods before pulling me back onto his chest.
“I’m sorry, love. I just couldn’t help myself.”
I shake my head and cuddle into him and I know this is going to be alright. We are going to be alright.
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Call of Duty - Masterlist
Master-Masterlist
187 notes · View notes
joeys-babe · 4 months
Text
Joey B Imagines: Merry Christmas, Goofball
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Summary: Joe gets an extra gift at his family Christmas!
(Tiny part two to - Part 1)
Warnings: Fluff
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
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December 27, 2023
(Joe’s pov)
The past two days had been boring, empty, quiet, and all the negative adjectives.
I made the drive down to Athens today for Christmas with my family.
We were having it two days after Christmas to accommodate my brother’s having to go to their in-laws.
It was just going to be the same as last year, watching the kids play, and adult couples sit at the table while drinking wine together.
I fit in with neither group. So I either sat on the couch to watch a football game, or I'd sneak off to my old bedroom and play video games.
Whatever the plan ended up being, I was going to try to get away from this scene.
After all the grandkids opened presents from my mom and dad, it was my time to drift away from the group.
I grabbed a trash bag and gathered all of the wrapping paper and empty gift bags.
When the trash bag was full, I snuck into the kitchen and laid It by the backdoor to be taken out.
Once I did a quick look around and knew no one was watching, I opened the basement door, but before I could reach a foot out for the first step, I felt a huge hand on my shoulder.
Immediately, my shoulders dropped. I'd been caught.
“Not this year.” - Jimmy
I turned around to see my dad and gave him a sheepish smile.
“Sorry…” - Joe
“Don't apologize, son. I know it’s awkward since y/n can’t be with you.” - Jimmy
“Yeah, it really is. I don't fit in with the kids obviously, but I don't want to be the only adult in there without a partner with them.” - Joe
“Your mom and I are sorry for making you feel left out, so we got you an extra gift.” - Jimmy
“Huh?” - Joe
“It's on the front porch.” - Jimmy
I gently pushed past my dad and walked through the sea of people, making a beeline for the front door.
Out of nowhere, everyone fell silent, like they were anticipating my reaction.
After giving everybody a confused glare, I opened the door.
My heart stopped when my eyes fell on my extra gift.
“Baby?!” - Joe lept forward and grabbed you
I held her as tight as possible and spun her around, still trying to understand how and why this was happening.
“Hi, Joey.” - you giggled
Her legs were wrapped around my waist as I held her up in my arms.
“What are you doing here?” - Joe
I sat her back down on the ground, my arms never leaving her waist.
“You think I'm not gonna visit my boyfriend when he's in Athens? You were like thirty minutes away instead of two hours, couldn't pass on seeing your smiling face.” - you
“Shit, I didn't even think of that. I was so busy moping around that I forgot I was actually in Athens, where you are.” - Joe
She playfully rolled her eyes before pressing a long kiss to my lips.
Suddenly, there was a voice coming from behind us.
“I see you found your gift. Hi y/n!” - Robin
I smiled at my mom before y/n hugged her, they pulled away, and y/n said something to her.
“Thank you for inviting me, Robin.” - you
“Oh of course sweetie! He’s been walking around depressed like Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh all day. I knew you were the only thing capable of making him smile.” - Robin
y/n laughed and I felt myself blushing, not just from embarrassment but also from that gorgeous laugh.
“He loves you so much.” - Robin whispered
I know my mom attempted to whisper, so only y/n could hear… but she failed miserably, and I heard anyway.
“I love him too… so much.” - you told Robin
“Good.” - Robin smile
A few seconds of silence went by before my mom spoke up again.
“Well, I won't bother you guys… feel free to sneak off to the basement like you do every year, Joe. Enjoy your time together!” - Robin smiled before walking away
When she walked away, y/n and I embraced once again before I took her hand and led her toward the basement.
“Am I gonna see the iconic Star Wars room, Joey?” - you
“How do you know about that?” - Joe grinned
“I watch your interviews.” - you shrug
“Stalker.” - Joe scoffed jokingly
“At least I didn't ask a nineteen-year-old out when I was twenty-six.” - you mumbled
I stopped so abruptly that she crashed into my back.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Think I shouldn't have?” - Joe
“What? No! I was just joking.” - your eyes went wide
“Don’t joke about that shit! It's not funny.” - Joe
Grimacing when I realized I raised my voice, I watched y/n’s body language change completely.
“Sorry…” - you looked down
“Wait… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I didn't mean to, baby…” - Joe
“It’s okay. I won't joke about it again. I was playing around and didn't think you'd take it seriously, but I should've known.” - you
“Can we just drop it? I don't want to argue right now.” - Joe looked at you with sincere eyes
“I’d love that. Can we just chill downstairs and cuddle?” - you
“I thought you'd never ask.” - Joe grinned
——
After an hour of cuddling and watching a movie, y/n and I went back upstairs to find my family getting the gingerbread house kits out.
“Oh, hell no.” - you mumbled
“We can go back downstairs.” - Joe laughed
“Can we please? I have beef with gingerbread houses.” - you
I laughed realizing she copied my line about dry ingredients from a few days ago, and took her hand to go back down to my room.
“Uncle Joe!” - Joe’s nephew
Turning around to see my little nephew, I wondered what he wanted.
“Yup?” - Joe
“Look.” - Joe’s nephew
The five-year-old pointed to the doorframe above me and y/n, where a mistletoe hung.
I looked at y/n with a big smile, and we both shrugged at the same time before leaning in to kiss each other.
Because I wasn't a fan of PDA, we haven't ever kissed in front of someone. Other than y/n’s family watching through the windows when I dropped her off.
But right now, as everyone whistled and watched us kiss under the mistletoe, I'd never felt so happy.
We pulled away from each other after a solid minute, with huge grins on our faces from ear to ear.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” - Joe
“Merry Christmas, goofball.” - you laughed
————————————————————————-
Authors note: I felt like the fic needed a second part…. CHRISTMAS FICS ARE OFFICIALLY DONE.
This came from my own head! 🫶
Hope you enjoyed! 💕
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loveswrites · 11 months
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Is love enough? Poly Joe x Love x reader
Poly! Joe Goldberg x reader x Love Quinn
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Time it took me: 5 hours spread out a few days
Word count: 1058
I asked you guys on a poll if you guys would like a poly xreader with Joe and love and you guys definitely did! So Let me know how you guys like it! The closer I got to the end I was thinking about making this one into a mini series! As I could do a lot more with this one! Tell me if you'd like a part two!
When you finish reading tell me. Do you think love is enough?
Love <3
"Depression makes you do crazy shit Joe!"
"That doesn't make sense, Love! just accept the fact that you killed her for no reason but the fact that you can't control yourself!" Joe yelled at love with wide eyes. 
"I can't control myself? I can't control myself?! You were the one obsessing over yet another woman! What did you expect me to do?! We have a family!" Love yelled back at Joe with tears in her eyes. But they weren't tears of sadness.
"Babes? What's with all the yelling what's going-... on.." You questioned coming down the stairs but paused seeing exactly what the yelling was all about.
"What happened?.." You whispered. On the ground all you saw was blood and the body of some blonde. 
"What are you doing here!?" Love and Joe yelled in unison.
"You told me to come pick up Henry so you could finish on some things- What happened!" You yelled, snapping out of your explanation of your presence.
"I- I she fell-" Love attempted to say but you quickly cut her off.
"Into an Ax!?" You yelled.
"It was an accident!" Love tried defending herself.
"What the fuck! What the actual fuck? I- Where is Henry?!" You yelled out looking around the dark basement for the child you came to pick up.
"He's over there he is fine!" Love gestured to Henry who was literally a baby in a corner.
You watched as Joe paced the floors as you could only assume he was thinking about what to do about this.. situation that lies in front of you three.. and a half. 
You Joe and Love were in a relationship together. It was a loving happy relationship you felt secure in some aspects of it. Besides that fact that you never knew if the police would show up at your front door and arrest you was all. It was one of the things that made the loving happy relationship feel a little less secure. Also with love's impulsive behavior and Joe's constant need to have a new fixation every other month put a damper on the relationship at times. But none of that stopped you from loving them both. And them loving you. 
"You said no more. No more killing. No more death. A fresh start and a New beginning. And Joe you no more.. obsession plus the killing also." You whispered shifting your eyes between you two lovers. 
"How can neither of you keep your promise?" 
"I haven't killed anybody!" Joe yelled.
"But you stalk! And you creep! And you lie and cheat on both me and Love! Why?! Why are we not enough for you? I keep your secrets, I'm there when you're scared! When you're scared that you might do another bad thing! And you Love I'm there for you every sleepless night when Joe is gone! We were all supposed to be happy here! But since we're all killing and lying, I'm going to tell the truth I hate it here! I hate the suburbs I'm a fucking city girl I don't belong here yet I am trying to adapt for you for you both because I love you! You both ripped me apart from a city that I loved so much to lie in a house with two people that I thought loved me more than I loved that city just to feel like some neglected piece of trash! I hope to God Henry never feels like this- Oh wait he probably already does since he's facing a corner chilling in a room with a dead body!" You screamed with so much pent up aggression you snatched up the baby carrier that held Henry.
"Pleas-" Joe started but you cut him off without turning to face them.
"Don't call me, don't text me. Fix your mess then maybe me and Henry will come back." You said causing panic to rush through both of their veins.
"Maybe?!" Love yelled her eyes widening. 
"What do you mean maybe?! I love you, there is nothing that I wouldn't do to make you stay!" Joe yelled.
"Shut up." You said, shaking your head as you walked up the stairs leaving the bakery. 
When you've been in a relationship with basically two insane people you learn when their threats mean you harm or not. In that case Joe threatened you out of fear. Not anger. He was never angry at you much. He got mad at Love more than he would you. Him and Love fought more than you, him and love ever did combined. Which you couldn’t lie was understandable because seeing that their habits could land us all in jail. You’ve never killed anybody but that still doesn’t make you a good person. 
You’ve lied for them. Threaten people for them. Even though Joe and Love do their best to keep their dirty habits away from home, it’s inevitable that one of those habits will come knocking on your front door. You’ve helped with the..bodies. So no matter how sick it makes you or how bad you feel about it you are and will forever be an accomplice to their crimes for no other reason than the fact love makes you do crazy things. 
When you got to your car you went to buckle Henry into his car seat. He was crying. You almost missed that.. How could you miss a screaming baby? As you tried to zone yourself out of your deep thoughts about your two loves you tried calming the only love that mattered right now. You found it hard to do this as tears rolled down your own face. Who was going to calm you down with their love? As you shhh henry to calm down rocking him in your arms on the side corner of the bakery you started to think what if this was all?
What if this was it? 
What if all your life now consisted of was lying, hiding, running, crying, screaming, fighting, shovels, dirt and muddy midnights. But at least you had your two lovers by your side, That’s all that matters right? Could the love between three people be enough to grow into a happy family?
Getting into the driver's seat you started the car. And as you drove away from the bakery you couldn’t help but think, is love enough?
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byechristopher · 5 months
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WE'RE ALONE.
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– Chris Sturniolo angst/fluff.
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depressed-stoner!chris x f!reader
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Author's note: there's a playlist I have on spotify (literally my childhood) that 100% inspired me to write this – hits too close to home, pft. So here, Chris smoking w33d. Do not copy/steal my work. :) didn't proof read.
Warnings: w33d obviously, mentions of alcohol and depression. Sad, messy love. Also, super long – don't know what else, tbh. This is JUST a fan-fiction.
Playlist:
Time was passing by and the voices from inside the living room wouldn't stop – I can hear them getting louder and louder. I bring my knees close to my chest, hugging myself and I turn the volume of my speakers up.
It's always like this; they get loud and then they pretend this never happened, like I never heard what they said to each other. Or how they talked about this family, this house. It was exhausting for me, to say the least.
A few hours later, with the loud music still filling the dark room, I decided it was maybe time to sleep. This would all end faster that way. But when I was about to do that, I saw.. something out the window? I know I did. There it is again... hold on – a shoe? I get up, a little scared, and look outside. I knew it. I open the window.
"Chris, what the fuck.." I yelled and I saw Chris picking up his shoe, jumping around for a few seconds before wearing it again.
Oh, Chris. We've been close friends for so long. As long as I can remember – my childhood is filled with memories of him. I've always been so thankful. He has always been the safe place that I desperately needed but never really knew I wanted. He would always be there whenever I needed him and if course, I did the same thing for him. He was worth it anyways.
"Come on!" he yells, not caring if my parents heard him.
"Really, Chris? Your shoe?" I place my elbows on the windowsill, laughing a little bit.
"I couldn't find any rocks. Now shut up, and jump!" he grins and I roll my eyes.
I turn the volume down, not all the way down, enough to not let my parents hear what is going on in here, but also without disturbing their sleep. I quickly wear a big, black hoodie, I put on my lace up boots and after grabbing my phone, wallet and cigarettes, I walk towards the windowsill – I've been sneaking out my room ever since I was little, I cannot believe I'm still doing it in my twenties. But who cares.
I place my foot on the windowsill, grabbing a branch of the tree that is right outside my room (thank God), and I climb up that tree till it's safe enough for me to jump – Chris catches me and we fall down, like every other time. We laugh.
"Hi." he says, it's simple, but it makes me smile.
"Hi. I didn't know you were here – I thought you were coming back next Tuesday." I say and I keep walking next to him; we know exactly where we're going.
"I was supposed to, yeah. But I didn't like it there, so I left. Plus, you are here." he has a little smile on his face and only now do I notice the paper bag in his hand, "beers." he says before I get to say anything. I nod, smiling.
We keep on walking and about ten minutes later, we finally reach our destination. There is an old, abandoned school that we found out about a few years ago. I still remember that day – I was so scared, especially when I saw these old stairs that were leading up to a big, rusty door. When Chris opened the door, though, we found out that there was a flat roof behind that door, old school chairs then and there. I smoked my first cigarette here. Also, my first blunt. Hah.
The chairs are still placed right in front of the parapet wall that's built along the edge of the flat roof. So we sit down – Chris is already rolling a blunt and I open two cans of beer, handing him his.
"Now. Tell me, what's wrong?" I break the silence abruptly. He doesn't look at me.
He doesn't need to tell me anything, I always know when he's not feeling well. And I know he wants to see me too, but that's not the exact reason he is here.
"Fought with my brothers." he murmurs and licks the wrap to seal the blunt while looking at me.
"Yeah, no shit. Why?" I watch him as I take a sip of my beer.
"Just bullshit. It doesn't matter. They know I'm here with you anyway." he mutters. His hair is a little messy and his hoodie is also too big for him, as usual, "what's wrong with you anyway?"
"The usual." I sigh and place my feet on the parapet wall, the can of beer in between my thighs, making my bare legs cold and making goosebumps rise on it – not the wisest choice to keep these shorts on.
We talk and talk and talk, for hours. We're both high, drinking beer and a mini bottle of vodka that was hidden in his big hoodie, we both had our legs hanging from that low wall and laughing like idiots.
He grabs the back of my head and brings me closer to him, his breath fanning over my lips, "missed this." he whispers and places his lips on mine. I groan in his mouth and start moving my lips against his, my tongue licking his bottom lip. He lets my tongue enter his mouth and I get up quickly to straddle his thighs, sitting on his lap so that I can be more comfortable, without breaking the kiss, of course.
His hands sneak under my hoodie and his cold fingers travel up my back, my hands are buried in his hair, tugging at it gently. The kiss is slow but hungry and I find myself getting lost in it. Then, it hits me. I part our lips and I place my forehead against his, my hands are placed against his chest, "I can't." I murmur.
I can still remember the last time this happened. And the previous time. And the time before that. Blah blah blah. But last time I said it was the last time, because I cried myself to sleep that night. Whenever we get high and we drink, we sometimes make out. Just sometimes. He's always the first one to make the move because I'm too scared. I told myself it wasn't that deep the first time it happened, but I was secretly craving the next time it would. When we didn't make out, I would go home disappointed. Crying, sometimes. I didn't know if I was subconsciously falling in love (or already in love) with Chris or just really deprived of affection, but I was more and more hurt each time it happened.
"What is it?" he whispers and grabs the nape of my neck with both hands, pulling me close to place a soft kiss on my forehead.
"Why.. do we do this, Chris?" I whisper, I'm sacred to even ask the question, but I have to. For my sanity.
"I thought you wanted it." he stiffens a bit, pulling away a little bit.
"I do. And so do you. But why do we want it?" I search for his eyes but he averts his gaze from me every time I try to.
"What kind of question is that.. we're high and we make out. It's not a big deal." he says and I know I will cry myself to sleep again tonight.
"It might not be. For you." I sigh and he tries to sit up, indirectly telling me to get off of him but I don't. He's uncomfortable. So am I. But we have to do this.
"You're fucking high and you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." he shakes his head and looks away. He knows I know exactly what I'm saying and that's what pains me the most.
"I might be in love with you." I say and the silence gets louder than my goddamn parents earlier.
"I love you too, what does that have to do with anything.." he says, completely dodging what I just said to him.
"Chris. I'm fucking serious. I think I'm in love with you." I whisper and I cup his cheeks.
"Don't do this to me. I can't deal with this." he whispers back, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Do you love me like this, too?" I ask the question I dread the most.
"We can't do this. This just won't work. We're a fucking mess. How will we ever be good for each other? Can't you see it?" he says and my eyes fill with tears; I don't know what to say, because deep down I agree with him, "don't do this to me." he continues and I know he's talking about the tears in my eyes.
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me as close as possible, kissing my cheeks to catch the tears that escape my eyes, "I just.. you know I can't. Can't do this again."
"Chris.. seriously? We were kids!" I open my eyes just to look at him.
I know I hurt him when we were younger. But that was years ago, he can't keep blaming me for it.
"Yes, fucking seriously. I carried that around for a long time. You knew I was in love with you. You were the only one I wanted to be with." he glares at me and I sigh.
"I've apologised a million times, Chris."
He wasn't wrong. I remember how hurt he was back then – I knew he was in love with me when we were young and took advantage of the affection he was giving me, even though I didn't want him. I didn't feel the same way he did. Or at least, I didn't know I did. So I cut him off out of the blue and told him I would never want him this way. To make sure he knew I never would, I kissed his best friend. I don't know why – I think I wanted to prove that I really didn't like him. Now that I think about it, I wanted to prove myself more than him.
"You apologised and I forgave you. But you can't come here and tell me you think you are in love with me. What does "think" mean?"
"I don't know, Chris! It's.. overwhelming." I groan and I get off his lap, walking towards the door. I don't want to leave. But I don't know what to do, "you hurt me too, Chris. Ever since we kissed for the first time, I haven't been able to do it with anyone else. Hell, every time I tried to even talk to another guy, I could only think of you." I yell.
"Well. We can't be together. That's all I know." he clears his throat and grabs a cigarette.
"That's all you have to say?" I turn around to look at him as he smokes.
Silence.
"That's all I have to say." he mumbles. He gets up. He leaves. I stand there. I grab my stuff and I leave, too. That's what I get for wanting to be with an emotionally unavailable guy, who I know will probably hurt, as much as I will probably hurt him. We're both messed up. Broken childhood with broken hearts.
I walk towards my house crying but I don't want to go home. It's almost 5 in the morning, it's cold and it's dark. I should be in his fucking arms now, not walking around with nowhere to go.
At 05:20, my phone rings. Chris. He is crying and my heart shatters.
"I am afraid I will hurt you more than you already are." he says and I cry, "I'm afraid that one day, my problems will make me unavailable for you and I can't imagine not being able to be there for you. Ever." he sniffles.
"I'm scared too, Chris.. but.. I want to be selfish this time. I want to be with you. I don't wanna think about my parents, I don't wanna think about your friends, I don't wanna think about anyone other than you. I know I am in love with you." I sit down on the pavement and I try to make him hear me as much as I can through the tears.
"Fucking hell. I am in love with you. Where are you? I'm coming."
I tell him and in less than two minutes I see him running towards me. I can see his red eyes and his wet cheeks. He sees me and immediately gets on his knees to be on my level, cups my tear-stained cheeks and kisses me with so much love that I can feel my heart beating normally again.
"You came quickly."
"I always come for you. I go wherever you go." he whispers in between kisses and we fall backwards – I'm on my back and he's kissing me again and again.
"Then never leave me."
"Never."
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gamchawizzy · 2 months
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❗️Mutual Aid Needed🦐
Hello hello, I am Woz, I am a trans guy from the global south, and outside of my day job in corporate, I am an artist. I am the breadwinner of my family, and I also get my younger sibling through school.
For a little more than half a decade I have been suffering with bad mental health and suicidal thoughts, on top of trying to keep my family afloat with what I can earn.
I work two jobs to earn money, on top of tabling at conventions to be able to earn extra on the side. I am the one who pays all the house bills, some groceries, often having to send money to my sibling for school and sometimes tuition. Due to the constant pressure from overworking and the abusive social environment I have been exposed to for the longest time, I am now experiencing bodily pains, shortness of breath, headaches, worsening eyesight, and worsened depression as I clock in 10-15 hours almost daily (including weekends and holidays) trying to make ends meet.
I’m humbly asking for your help so I can get proper healthcare, which has been out of my reach for the longest time due to poverty. I was hoping to be able to afford help a few years ago, as soon as I got a job, but ever since the pandemic, the local price hikes just kept going, and going, until the matter was off the table entirely. The biggest reason why I am trying to get this moving now and as urgently as possible is so I can still receive treatment while I am still mentally and physically able to take charge of my own health. 
While I’m still more or less able to function well enough to work, I recently escaped an abusive situation, which was one of the biggest causes of my misery. The fallout from this event brought on a severe impact on my mental health and I was subject to a cult-like shunning by my old community. This has caused me to develop suicidal thoughts again, which eventually led to several self-delete attempts, the latest of which almost succeeded had I not been caught at literally the last second.
At the moment I am stable again and in the hands of trusted loved ones, but I still do not have access to professional help and I don’t know how long this stability will last and the next thing might cause me to spiral again.
We already did some research on getting local help and have a plan in motion, all we need now is the funds to carry it out. The bulk of it will be for the initial consultations and possibly medication, and we’re hoping to have enough to get the ball rolling for a couple months’ worth of treatment as I get myself back on track.
The initial process will be the most expensive as I am suspecting to have an undiagnosed condition that I would like to have checked, as well as possible medication. I do not have a disability ID yet (but I plan on getting one once I get a dx on paper), so we may have to pay full price for initial treatments.
Currently, my primary goal for this would be to achieve psychiatric help, diagnosis, medication, and therapy.
If I’m able to save up for a few months of maintenance and still have extra left over, my secondary goal would be to finally get my knees checked, as I have chronic pain and the occasional kneecap dislocation in them. This has been left unchecked for more than 15 years due to both poverty as well as being outright denied healthcare by the adults around me due to them downplaying the problem. I am nearing my 30s soon. While I’m still able to walk and engage in physical activities without the use of mobility aids, I fear that the complications from this condition if left untreated will only take a turn for the worse as I age.
Direct ways to support me:
Paypal:
Ko-Fi:
I have prints! You can pick up some of my art here:
We do not have a set price goal in mind as it will be a months-long process of beginning treatment and maintaining it, but rest assured all funds received will be set aside for the purpose of my healthcare and well-being only.
I still cannot escape many factors of my life that continue to hurt me, but I am hoping that continuous treatment, therapy, and support will help keep me going so I can keep my family fed without me having to worry about my own health.
Any donation, big or small, helps me so much! Even just a dollar/peso helps, shares and reblogs too! PH Moots, feel free to ask for my GCash in private!
Thank you all for reading! I’m always grateful 😭🙏❤
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mossy-opal · 6 months
Text
Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right
Kai Chisaki x Reader
Content Warnings: Depressive Thoughts, Murder Mentions, Child Abuse Mentions, SMUT, Dominant Reader, Edging, Guided Masturbation, I think that's it, it I missed something tell me
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The legal system was no help after his release, even if he was deemed "harmless". Despite knowing full well what he was capable of, they still put him back out on the streets, on probation of course. They kept him under lock and key for the most part, if he went anywhere or did anything, someone would know about it. He had to report to his probation officer once a week, and every visit was as uneventful as the last.
After all, what could a man with no arms manage to accomplish? It was pathetic, how far he'd fallen from grace.
He needed help, more help than anyone was willing to give. In order to get help, legally at least, he needed to sign certain forms. That would work, if he had arms.
Kai Chisaki, once a man whom many feared to cross, now lay in his dingy, disgusting apartment, in dirty clothes, with stubble on his face, just a moment away from putting himself out of his own misery.
Hearing a knock on his door, he didn't even get up, if it was his probation officer they'd let themselves in regardless. When a new person walked in with a smug look on their face, that got his attention. He sat up, looking up at the individual with a glare.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
They laughed, leaning against the wall, "From you? Nothing. I'm actually here to offer you a deal, Overhaul."
Hearing his old villain name got his attention, his eyes widening.
"You'd better be careful with that name, who knows who could be listening…" He warned.
The stranger shook their head, "Not to worry, I'm actually a family friend of your probation officer, that's why and how I know where you live! Now, do you wanna know why I'm here, Chisaki?"
He didn't answer, only glaring.
"Well, I'm here to offer a deal, like I said. Favours for favours, if you catch my drift…"
Kai thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, "I have nothing for you here, you can see yourself out-"
"Oh but you do! Y'see, I find myself in a bit of a pickle," They started walking towards his bed, squatting down to his level. "I'm not exactly the strongest person in the world y'see, and you, well you have seen better days- But I can help you if you can help me! I need a handyman, a workin' man, if you wanna call it that- You can be my man!"
Kai blinked, ".... Uh huh… Well, as I said, I'm not exactly in the position to be, as you so eloquently put it, a working man."
As he said that, he lifted what's left of his arms, before glaring at the stranger again.
"Now, get the fuck out."
The person stood up, stretching, "Alright, alright, I'll leave you to wallow in self pity- Didn't even give me a chance to state my half of the bargain…"
Kai grunted, not interested in whatever this person was selling- "Would be a real shame though, I could get you some amazing prosthetics. I know a guy."
They shrugged, turning on their heel. "But, you said no, so-"
"Wait."
They stopped, a grin on their face before turning back to Kai, who was now standing.
"Yes…?"
He hesitated, which from what the stranger had heard, was very unlike him.
"I'll help you with whatever you need me to help you with, so long as I get those prosthetics first."
"Oh absolutely! I'm not a monster, I wouldn't make you do shit you can't do, just for my own amusement! When you get your nice new prosthetics, then we can shake on it- Deal~?"
He glared once more with a sneer, before he nodded.
"Deal."
That was how he met you.
From then on he was, unfortunately, indebted to you. You had him moved from his crummy apartment and into your own house, on a farm. It was no wonder you wanted help, there was a lot of work to be done. Despite him insisting he didn't need to know anything about you, you went ahead and told him nearly everything about you and your life. It was like nails on a chalkboard, being in your presence, even if you helped him. To make matters worse, many of your ideals aligned with his own, just to a far less extreme.
You didn't have a quirk, your family never had quirks, and you believed the stereotypes of quirks and the society built around them was flawed. Even in passing, you had mentioned how much better things would've been had quirks never appeared.
However, despite the similarities between the two of you, Kai was certain that he hated you.
You were loud, obnoxiously so. You were far too lax for your own good. Eventually, acting the way you did would either get you hurt or killed- He couldn't wait for the day. You weren't messy, which was a good thing, but still, you were simply gross. Being in your presence alone would've given him hives, had he not been in poor living conditions prior.
He told himself that often, almost as if he was reminding himself you were gross. His mantra was said even more often while you were helping him around the farm. You took your shirt off far too often, each time you did so made him nearly vomit. That habit being a part of that relaxed personality that he despised.
Even if you helped him, he was as cold and cruel as you'd heard. It posed a challenge to you, but eventually, you got bored. He wouldn't let you in, which was fine, he didn't have to- But having him around was to help with that loneliness you felt. Your parents were long dead, and with no other real family, you were bored. You were lonely. Even with Kai around, he was only there to fulfil his debt to you, he made that abundantly clear.
Oh, well there's an idea.
If he didn't want to get to know you or share with you, that was fine, but he owed you. Why not cash in? Maybe indulge a little? With your intentions known, Kai… Didn't know what to do. You started asking him to do many other chores around the house, practically kicking back while he took over cooking and cleaning. It disgusted him, how much of a "house-husband" he had become. Despite that, you were still rough with him, a vast difference from anyone else he'd ever known. The people he surrounded himself with were always useful, obedient to him, never looking him in the eyes.
You, on the other hand, practically looked down your nose at him. He didn't know how to handle your demands, he wanted to bite back, more than anything, but… But he didn't. He never bit back with more than a snide comment or a grumbling insult, but he never raised his voice or his hand against you, and it left him baffled.
It wasn't because he respected you, it wasn't because he felt so indebted to you that he didn't fight back. It wasn't because he wanted your praise, he never-
"Such a good boy~"
You had said it in passing, more like a joke than anything, but it still struck something in him. A chord that's never been strung, a new song they played in the back of his mind. He'd been praised before, but never like that.
It was disgusting, how he had a physical reaction such as that, he was ashamed of himself, how violated he felt.
That was when he bit back with more force.
"Don't you dare speak to me like I'm a fucking dog!"
"Oooh, careful pup, might have'ta muzzle ya because of that bite- Haha!"
Your nonchalant response proved it was, in fact, supposed to be a joke. But the visceral reaction he had was very much serious. He's never felt such a jolt before, not even when he had his first successful test of the quirk removing bullet. It felt similar to his first intimate interaction with a woman, but he hated how that felt. So in turn, he hated how he felt now.
How dare you.
All because you seemed to enjoy torturing him, you had the audacity to start teasing him more often, which he was not happy about in the slightest. It made him feel sick, it made everything feel too hot, it made him feel clammy, it made him grind his teeth, and he despised it, but not as much as he despised you, because you kept doing it.
So why didn't he just leave?
You had given him prosthetics, let him freely roam your farm land, given him more than enough payment for his work so he could survive on his own- But there was one problem.
He was still on probation, and he would be for the foreseeable future.
Who's to say you wouldn't take him to court for not paying you back for the prosthetics you so graciously provided him? If you did that, and you would, he would be put right back into Tartarus to pay for his crimes. Then he would really be a shame to the Shie Hassaikai, more than he is now. No, he had to see this through to the eventual end. It would take a long time, but if there was one thing he was confident in, it was his patience.
Although, that in it of itself was a tall task. You pressed him, you pushed him, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. The only thing he could do was whatever you asked him to do. Help you with the farming and yard work, help you move lumber and firewood, help you keep your chickens in place, clean up… Whatever you needed, he would begrudgingly do for you.
Unfortunately, it all came to a head one day, while his probation officer was in for a visit. You usually stepped out for them, but decided to stick around today, for whatever reason.
Now, truth be told, he wasn't very fond of his probation officer. They were far more rude to him than you were, making snide comments while asking questions, brazing remarks when he didn't answer fast enough. Well, their behaviour didn't change, even with you in the room. If anything, it was more harsh than usual. You were oddly quiet for the most part.
"Well, good to know you're finally on a leash-"
"Can you stop?"
When you spoke up, Kai looked over at you, as did his probation officer, who scoffed.
"What? It's not like you treat him any differently. He's a murderer-"
"Yeah well he's still human, and I'd appreciate it if you spoke to him in a better tone. You are in my house after all."
"Pfft- Better tone? As if! He doesn't deserve a better tone, and who the hell are you to tell me how to speak to him? You do the exact same thing!"
"I really fuckin' don't, you can believe that! He may have done some horrible shit, but so far he's come a long way, no thanks t' you! It was only after I stepped in he actually started making the changes your court system says he has to make!"
"He is a child abuser and a murderer, not some project for you to work on!"
"Oh as if you give a shit about children! How many murderers are running that stupid fuckin' government funded 'hero agency' you fuckin' worship!? Get outta my house, the next time you come here, you better behave yourself, or I'm reporting you for misconduct!"
"Get bent, you stupid bitch!"
Practically shoving his probation officer out of your house, Kai watched the entire thing with wide eyes and confusion clearly on his face. Of all people, he wouldn't expect you to stand up for him. You never once excused what he did, you reminded him more than he reminded himself, he was a bad person. Yet, you defended him from mistreatment.
"Why did you do that?" He asked.
"Do what?"
Kai rolled his eyes, "Don't act like an idiot. Why did you defend me?"
You shrugged, "Good question- I dunno, suppose I just don't care for unnecessary bullying."
Kai shook his head, "You bully me all the time-"
"Well yeah, but like I told them, it's different."
"How is it different?"
"I don't mean for it to actually hurt you, just t' sorta… Remind you of where you stand~"
That answered no questions for him, and as he watched you walk away, he didn't expect to have any of his questions answered.
However, it didn't matter much as time went on. The two of you worked in somewhat synchronicity with one another, your teasing being met with his own, eventually. His probationary visits had also been lowered, from once a week, to once a month, due to his good behaviour. That only aided his high spirits, taking him one step closer to being a truly free man once again. Time moved on, day by day, the two of you only being visited quarterly after some massive improvements on Chisaki's attitude. As well as a change in his probation officer. That rude individual had been replaced with a kind little old woman. He didn't want to question why or how that happened without his knowing, he knew you wouldn't answer.
You were odd to him. Your bullying was far less harsh now, if you could even call it bullying. Kai wouldn't call it bullying, because it really wasn't at this point. If anything, it was an odd way of flirting. The most troubling new development, was his inability to descern if he hated it or not. He was certain your flirting was annoying, but it came to his attention, eventually, that he enjoyed it. You flattered him, made him feel- Odd.
But as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't bring himself to hate the treatment. So much so, that he found it odd when you didn't flirt with him. Everything about the situation was just downright strange. He still didn't understand why you would help him like this, why you would defend him, why you would flatter him the way you did, why-
"It's getting cold out."
His attention snapped from the food he was making, to you coming inside from the evening.
"What?"
"It's getting cold outside, we gotta make sure the harvest is good, get some supplies from the city, then we should be set for the winter."
That was another thing you did that he found odd. You told him about your plans, and expected input from him, as if he had a choice.
"So, wanna come with me this time?"
He looked back at you, confused. "What?"
"Jeez, do I need to get your hearing checked out or somethin'?"
He clicked his tongue, "I heard you fine, what do you mean when you ask-"
"What the hell do you think I mean? I'm askin' you if you wanna join me to go into the city, not for your hand in marriage! It's not that complicated~"
Kai rolled his eyes and shook his head, "No, thank you. I would need to fill out a form in order to leave the property, and frankly I don't want to."
Your talking and teasing was drowned out after he said that, as he was thinking to himself about the realisation he just came to. He didn't want to leave. Despite everything…
But, you were right about it getting cold outside. The summer months slowly turned to fall, the leaves turning colour, and the sky darkening sooner. The two of you were able to harvest nearly everything before the first snow fall, and that was when Kai noticed just how badly the cold made him feel. Before, he was used to the cold, if anything, he preferred it. But now, it hurt him. It made his arms sore, as if they were heavier than how he was used to, and it was honestly horrible. Not only that, he felt useless now, watching you go in and out to retrieve fire wood or eggs, while he sat inside and did near to nothing. Despite your reassurance, he still felt… Disappointed. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed in himself, or disappointed that he was disappointing you. It never mattered before, how you felt about him, at least that's what he told himself, so why did it matter now?
What's worse, you noticed.
"Seasonal depression kicking your ass?"
He looked up from the fire to you, "What?"
You sat down next to him, handing him a mug of hot chocolate.
"Well, you've been real quiet lately, even after I annoy you, so something must be up."
He blinked, never having really paid it much attention before now.
"I…. Think I'm just not used to feeling this way. I hate feeling this way."
"Oh I getcha, I could only imagine how bad you must've felt when I found you-"
"That's just it, I think now I feel worse."
You looked at him, and he looked at you.
"When you found me, you… Gave me a new chance, an opportunity to help myself. As much as it pains me, I'm grateful to you, for that… But now, I can't help you. I can't do anything but watch you work, and it makes me so angry because… Because if I can't help you, what am I good for?"
You were silent, only making his thoughts run rampant.
"I can't seem to do anything correct, because everytime I've tried to do something meaningful with my life, it lands me right back at square one- Where I feel useless and pitiful, and frankly I'm disgusted with myself for allowing myself to feel this way, again. You found me and… Gave me a purpose. You put me to work, and as much of a bitch as you are, you've helped me…"
You snorted at that.
".... But now I'm sat here on your couch, in your house, wallowing yet again, because I can't help you more than you've helped me."
With that off his chest, he felt marginally better, but that darkness surrounded his mind yet again, before you spoke up.
"Well, if it makes you feel better you don't owe me anything anymore."
He looked at you again, "What do you mean?"
You shrugged, "I said what I mean, you don't-"
"No, that's not how this works, these prosthetics alone have costed you-"
"Don't worry about it, think of 'em as a gift."
He thought for a moment.
"And the allowance?"
You shrugged again, "Payment for your labour."
"And the room?"
"A place to stay that's not rat infested~"
"And the clothes? And the food? What about everything you've done for me- My probation being altered! I know you had a hand in that as well! So what do you mean I don't owe you anything? There is no way-"
You suddenly grabbed his jaw, something you've only ever done to fluster him on purpose, but it certainly shut him up.
"Will ya just shut your mouth and take what I give you? Fuck, you act like I saved you from some final destination death or whatever- I'm just being nice. Is that such a foreign concept to you?"
When you let him go, he was still silent. Did you not grasp the concept of debt? Especially for someone like him, whose whole life surrounded the teachings of the Yakuza, and how debts must be repayed. What you were doing for him went against everything he was used to, everything he'd ever known, and yet… He was somewhat okay with it.
Not entirely, he still had many questions, but he tried to ignore his nagging curiosity.
You were odd.
After that you made it a point to be as obnoxiously helpful as possible, to the point where Kai just had to look at something, and you would get it for him. It was annoying and it made Kai want to yell at you for making him feel so- So…. Pampered. In the end, that's all you were doing for him. Of course there were limits, you wouldn't help him with his prosthetics or get his clothes, but you were still helping him with damn near everything. He would ask you why, and you would shrug as per usual and give a half-hearted excuse,
"'Cus I wanna!"
But never more than that. Never a full explanation for why you did what you did. After all, you didn't have to. You teased him about it as well, making him flush and feel embarrassed, even if he knew you meant no harm in it. With the new development, came a new feeling Kai had been ignoring for quite some time.
By no means was Kai Chisaki a virgin. In his pursuits, he was sure to experiment at least once, despite the very particular parameters his paid-for partner had to follow. He was aware that sexual intimacy was nothing to write home about- It was far too complicated of a process to really get into it or pay more attention to it then he needed.
Unfortunately, this time with you had his curiosity reignited. His mind began to wander to places he had never ventured before, that prospect scared and intrigued him all at the same time. He wondered how your bare skin would feel against his. Would your hands be soft against him, or hard? Which one did he want more? He wondered how it would feel if he surrendered to you completely- Would you be kind, or would you be cruel?
Why did he hope for the latter?
So many thoughts would come to mind, and often at the worst of times- Sitting next to you, at dinner, while he would watch you chop firewood out in the cold, your jacket taken off to account for your labour, despite your red nose and rosy cheeks- That was the safest time for the thoughts to arise. When you were too busy with something else, when he could watch you for hours, and you didn't even notice.
At least, that's what he had originally thought.
"Hey, why have you been starin' at me?"
That question made him nearly choke on his food.
"Ha! What, didja think I wouldn't notice? Why else would I take off my shirt in this cold ass weather~?"
"H-how long have you known…?"
"Eh, a few weeks I think."
He scoffed, before getting up.
"Hey, where ya goin'!?"
"To my room."
You got up after him and practically started chasing him down, before you were finally able to get a proper hold of him. He didn't struggle much, it would hurt if he did.
"Let go of me-"
You laughed, "Nope! Not until you tell me why you like to stare at me~"
"Fuck you, you know why!"
"Oh we will, soon as you tell me~"
He stopped moving, looking at you.
"What?"
"What~?"
"What did you just say?"
"Mmmm, I don't think I'm repeating myself~"
Kai was lost on how to feel, unsure if he should feel scared or aroused by you… But, he was far too curious for his own good.
"And what if I was staring at you because…. Because I find you attractive?"
You moved closer to him, your warmth giving him goosebumps, as you breathed against his neck.
"I think I'd do something about it… I don't like being stared at~"
Kai had to bite back a shudder, cursing himself for stuttering, "W-what are you going to do… About it…?"
With a smirk, you dragged him to his room, throwing him inside. Without even closing the door, you followed him inside, unbuttoning your shirt. It was nothing new to see you topless, that was something he needed to get used to, but when you started taking off your pants, that's when he looked away.
"Uh uh, look at me."
The demand in your tone made his eyes look at you, struggling to keep his eyes in one place. He saw you smirk, which made him flush more.
"Well, come on pretty boy, you gonna take your clothes off, or am I gonna have'ta do it for ya~?"
"I- I don't-"
The way you sauntered up to him made him trip over himself, falling onto the floor.
"Don't tell me big bad Yakuza is a virgin~"
"I-I'm not-"
You put your foot on his crotch, making him gasp out a sharp moan.
"Then take your fucking clothes off~"
Slowly and shakily, he started taking off his shirt and pants, leaving on his briefs. He… Didn't exactly like the way he looked now, his arms being mostly synthetic, making him extremely self-conscious. Your voice snapped him out of it.
"Hey, quite gettin' in your own head and get over here!"
He hadn't even seen you get on his bed, laying on your back, your legs spread. He felt his face heat up, before he made it to you.
"Quit starin'."
"Yes…" His head snapped down, and he closed his eyes when he realised it.
You had him wrapped around your finger, and you knew it.
"Now what am I gonna do with you… Usually you're so obedient, it wouldn't feel right to really punish you… But, you have been staring at me for a while, huh~?"
Kai nodded, "Fuckin' answer me when I talk to you!"
You were always loud, but not like this. It made him… "Fuck- Yes, I've been staring at you for weeks…"
You purred, moving to sit up in front of him, while he sat on his knees.
"You dirty little slut, you probably got off while watching me work, huh?"
He could feel his dick twitch when you spoke to him like that, but he answered.
"N-no, I didn't…."
"Why?"
He didn't answer you for a moment, and you raised your voice again, "Answer me, slut!"
"I haven't touched myself with these hands…! I…. I can't."
You laughed cruelly, "Ooh, poor little bitch hasn't been able to get himself off because he's scared~"
Why did he like this so much? He couldn't even think of an answer before you spoke again, "Well, here's your chance~"
He looked up at you at that, confused.
"Don't give me that look, I know you're not fuckin' stupid. I want you to touch yourself~"
This had to be a joke-
"I'll even help you, because I'm so nice~"
You moved again, getting up and moving behind him, and before he could ask what you were doing, you pushed him down. Kai caught himself on all fours, but feeling you press against him made his questions die in his throat. He felt your hands trail from his shoulders to his deltoids, before trailing down his prosthetic arms, grabbing his wrists.
"I know you know how to do this, but I'll give you a reminder~"
After you whispered that, you moved your hand and his, stopping right at the line of his briefs.
"Come on, take your dick out."
Kai did as you told him, holding his hard cock in his hand, your hand wrapped around him as well. He shuddered at the feeling, simultaneously feeling more aroused than ever, and humiliated all the same. Feeling you squeeze his hand, and in turn his dick, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Do I have to do everything for you? Christ, I literally have to hold your hand while you jack off, this is fuckin' pathetic you know~"
Feeling you pull his hand up his dick, and back down, he shuddered again. While you moved his arm, your other arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him back to sit on your lap. You kept guiding his hand at a slow pace, which was torture while you grinded on him and bit at his neck. His gasping only increased while his eyes rolled back.
"Ha, you're drooling princess- Gross~"
He shut his eyes while you sped up, your other hand playing with his nipples. His breathing got faster, and his gasps slowly turned in to quiet moans, his eyes shut tight while his mouth opened and-
When you suddenly pulled away his hand, he cried out in protest, tears pricking his eyes.
"No no no please please f-fucking please don't-"
"Who the hell are you to be making demands~?"
He couldn't even see you behind him, but he could feel you grinding against his ass, your hold on his wrist tight. He whined again, small tears falling while he caught his breath, coming down from what was almost the best orgasm of his life. He heard you laugh, before he felt you lick his tears.
"Don't be such a cry baby, sweetness… This is your punishment~"
You pushed him down again, getting him off of you, so you could get up and get dressed. You were really going to leave him like this…
"Don't worry, if you're good, I'll make sure you get a reward, but for now, deal with it."
When you turned to walk out, you stopped.
"Oh, and if I find out you touched yourself again, and you cum? You can bet your sweet ass I'll be punishing you a hell of a lot worse."
He nodded, before you snapped your fingers, making him look at you- He bit back a squeak.
"Y-yes… I won't- Won't touch myself…"
You smirked, "That's a good boy~"
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Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @shockinglysubmissive @elias-fable @starstruck-flames @mostlyheinous @daniidil
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