#you remember the content just fine! but the way it got to your brain? who knows
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just had the experience of succesfully sounding out แว่นกันแดด in my head, recognizing those sounds ("waen kan daet") as something i'd seen in transliterated script, confidently going "zonnebril!", and then seeing it translated as sunglasses and going wait?? that was wrong?? for a whole two seconds before remembering that no, those words actually do all fit into the same mold, i was just pouring a different language into it by accident
#i made a pancakes-for-dinner sort of sunglasses when they should have been pancakes-for-breakfast sunglasses#is there a paper somewhere on third or fourth language acquisition through a second language? i bet there is. there should be#anyway. there is this (anecdotal? but i assume widely shared) phenomenon i've been thinking about a lot#in which a person hears (or says or thinks) some words. two seconds pass. they can't remember what language the words were in#you remember the content just fine! but the way it got to your brain? who knows#happened to my mother recently when we watched a dutch movie and afterwards she recalled it as 90 minutes of english#because there was a gun in it. which felt american to her#happened to ME recently too in fact. when i had to think hard after being told the boy and the heron had english subtitles in our theater#as we were walking out of the theater!! and the only way i got to a place of going hey yeah! was by remembering a moment#while watching the movie. of consciously going 'huh they chose to translate some of this japanese as 'ain't'. interesting'#and ain't ain't dutch!! definitive proof they DID show that japanese movie with english subtitles in our dutch theater!!#this wall of tags isn't (ain't) going anywhere except. i think the zonnebril confusion is a version of this happening but maybe. like.#with a faint zonnebril echo still in my brain. sunglasses sounds different but for a moment there i didn't realize that's not because#it's a different concept. but because i had pulled the wrong language string attached to this one concept. or something#*#you know what sometimes i kid myself into thinking i don't think about language much more than the average person#but then i look at myself and my half-remembered linguistics degree and every hobby i've ever had and i go hm. hmmmm
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mark me in your heart
PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)
GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)
WC: 13k (12,975)
‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic
SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.
A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3
read on wattpad / ao3
“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.
Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.
It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.
Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.
Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.
This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.
Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?
It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.
You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.
“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.
“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.
Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.
Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.
Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.
You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.
Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.
“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.
The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.
You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.
You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.
A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.
"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.
Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.
The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?
"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.
"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.
Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.
You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"
"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.
You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.
"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.
"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.
You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.
Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.
"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.
You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.
Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.
You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.
Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.
"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.
Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.
You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.
The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.
Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.
You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.
“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.
You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”
His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.
You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.
Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.
Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.
Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.
Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.
Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.
That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.
You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.
As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.
But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.
You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.
“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.
He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him.
Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”
You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.
The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.
The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.
The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.
Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.
You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.
"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.
Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.
"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.
Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.
You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.
Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.
"It's not that I don't believe you-"
"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.
Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.
The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.
"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"
"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"
"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.
At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.
"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.
Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.
"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?
You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.
Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.
"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.
The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.
All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.
As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.
He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.
You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.
“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.
Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.
Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.
You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”
Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon.
“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”
You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.
Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.
You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.
“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.
Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.
“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.
Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.
Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.”
With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”
As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.
You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police.
You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble.
But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.
Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught.
There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.
Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”
Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.
You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.
“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.
You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.
Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.
You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.
The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”
You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.
“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.
You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.
The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.
That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.
The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”
The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.
“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter.
The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.
The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.
“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.
“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.
You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.
With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.
The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.
Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.
“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.
You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.
The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.
Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.
You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.
“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.
Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.
Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.
Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all.
You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.
So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.
You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.
The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.
A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.
After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.
So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.
You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.
Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.
Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.
As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.
Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.
Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.
Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice.
“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.
“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular.
“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.
The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.
But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.
“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.
Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.
Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.
Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”
“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.
“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.
You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”
“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.
A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”
Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.
It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.
“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.
You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.
You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”
You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.
His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.
With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”
Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.
His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.
The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.
The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.
Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.
You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.
Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.
"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.
You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.
Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.
His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.
Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.
Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.
The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.
"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.
Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.
"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.
"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.
Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.
"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.
A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.
He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.
The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.
The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.
Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.
"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.
"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.
The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.
You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.
Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.
Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.
The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.
"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.
"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.
You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.
"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.
"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.
Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.
As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.
After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.
"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.
With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.
“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.
“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.
You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.
Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.
So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.
So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.
You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.
You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.
You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.
The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.
Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.
You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.
You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:
Dear Y/n,
You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.
So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.
I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.
I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.
Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.
But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.
So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.
I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.
So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.
Your beloved,
M.
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“Hajime, are you bored?”
The raven haired man peers up from his phone, instantly locking the device and pocketing it when he sees the concern etched across your face.
Shaking his head, Iwaizumi gives you a gentle smile. It only takes him a few steps to reach you. “No, just checking my emails.”
Unconvinced, you rest a palm on his chest. It wasn’t like you had forced the man to come out with you. Ever the attentive boyfriend, Iwaizumi had made it his mission to spend some time with you after a hectic few weeks of work - even if that meant spending the day following you into countless stores.
“Are you sure? I know this isn’t really your thing.” you mumble, gesturing lamely at the store.
“Baby, no.” he plants a soft kiss on your temple. “I love spending time with you. Even if it means becoming your personal bag holder.” Iwaizumi lifts an arm, biceps curling underneath his t shirt as he lifts a plethora of shopping bags with ease, 90% of the contents belonging to you.
He watches the way your eyes draw towards his muscle and with the tiniest lift of his lips, he whispers. “I’m starting to think you only bring me along so you can have me carry your bags and ogle me.”
Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his chest. “You’re the one who always insists on coming with me and carrying all my bags.”
Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure?
Scoffing, you offer no solid denial, only a light push that does nothing to move the brute standing before you. Iwaizumi smiles down at you, endeared by the attempt.
“Seriously though, Hajime, I can go around by myself. Why don’t you go home and rest?”
Now he’s confused. It’s the second time you’ve tried to send him home and he’s racking his brain to see if he may have upset you somehow but he keeps coming up blank. Finally giving up, he decides to ask you.
“Why?” he squints his eyes playfully, “You got another man around to carry your stuff for you?” When you don’t respond to his joke, the raven furrows his brows. Calloused palms come to rest on your cheek. “I’m fine, love.”
And sure he looked fine, Iwaizumi was as tough as nails. But not even he could handle the crazy hours he had been working the last couple of weeks and you could tell he was close to running on fumes.
“Ha ha, very funny.” taking a hold of his wrist, you peer up at the man. “Let’s just go home. I think i’ve bought enough-“
“No.” He’s curt and the unexpected sharpness in his tone cuts you a lot deeper than he would have ever intended. You blink at his words, guilt, concern and a flash of hurt painting across your features. Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his forehead on your shoulder, groaning in what you guess is regret.
Your first instinct is to comfort him, so you do. Weaving your fingers through his dark tresses, you let him soak in your warmth.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I know, Haji.”
With a final sigh, he slumps back a step. “Shit, maybe I do need to get my ass home.” he chuckles half heartedly.
Humming, you take a step forward to reach him, mischief brimming in your tone. “Well if you’d just listened to me the first time I wouldn’t be here trying to calm down Mr Grumpy Pants himself.”
“Watch it.” he snipes, no real bite behind his words.
And in all your childish glory, you stick your tongue out at him.
Iwaizumi looks wholly amused. When was the last time someone stuck their tongue out at him? Then, he remembers who his best friend is and any trace of amusement is gone. “That Oikawa is a shitty influence on you.” he grumbles.
“Come on, let’s go.” you giggle, reaching for his free hand to lead him towards the exit.
“Hey,” he calls, softly tugging at your hands to halt your steps, “I love you.”
Despite the gruff texture of his voice, you would never tire of how softly those words would fall from his lips.
“I love you too.” lifting your entwined fingers up, you seal your words with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. “Now, can we finally go home?”
Iwaizumi smiles, fond. “Let's go home.”
#iwaizumi boyfriend of the year every year#and no one can tell me any different#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi haikyuu#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi x reader#hajime x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu scenarios#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff
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DR RATIO ANALYSIS
SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!
Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!
I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).
OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.
Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?
His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.
Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.
Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.
Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!
Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.
The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.
Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.
His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed.
In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.
Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?
The invitation never comes.
And then, comes the doubt.
What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset).
However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now?
Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot.
OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!!
Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its.
However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war.
TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society.
Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius.
Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK.
Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:
Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*.
Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.
*muffled ix noises*
I see, I see.
The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!
Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before:
Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation.
Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree?
However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…
Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….
Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!
We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help.
I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.
“Don’t do love, don’t do friends
I’m only after success
Don’t need a relationship
I’ll never soften my grip”
Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else.
“Don’t want cash, don’t want card
Want it fast, want it hard
Don’t need money, don’t need fame
I just want to make a change
I just wanna change, I just wanna change”
This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible.
“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be
I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine
I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy
Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!”
Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that.
“One track mind, one track heart
If I fail, I’ll fall apart
Maybe it is all a test
‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst
So I always act like I’m the best”
Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know?
“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly
I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die
I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly
I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die”
Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh?
All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?”
To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how.
“What you’re gonna be
It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see
And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe
My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy
It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”
Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own.
“High achiever, don’t you see?
Baby, nothing comes for free
They say I’m a control freak
Driven by a greed to succeed
Nobody can stop me”
Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society.
Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3
#dr ratio#drratio#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr dr ratio#hsr ratio#veritas ratio#character analysis#song lyrics#song analysis#attempt at humour#so that you don't get bored#long ahh analysis#analysis#media analysis#aventio#ratiorine#managed to sneak them in#i love homos#help#god help me#aurae analyzes
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something is rotten
▹ — joel miller x niece!reader
▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.
▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!
▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS
▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)
masterlist
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Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.
In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.
But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.
You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.
There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.
You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.
“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.
“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.
You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.
Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.
The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.
For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.
It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.
The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.
Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.
That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.
You felt sick.
That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.
With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”
Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”
“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.
You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.
You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.
“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.
She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”
“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”
The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”
“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.
You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.
Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.
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“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.
“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.
“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”
That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”
“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.
“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.
“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”
The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.
Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.
Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.
The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.
Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.
Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.
You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.
Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.
You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.
Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.
“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.
You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.
“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—
If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.
There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.
It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?
Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.
“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.
He said your name, and you snapped.
“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.
“Kid, just listen—”
You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”
Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.
“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.
“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”
You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.
You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.
It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.
You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.
The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.
Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.
Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.
Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”
Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.
“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”
“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”
He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?
“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”
“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.
Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.
He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.
Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.
Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.
“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”
Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”
Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.
“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.
“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.
Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.
“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.
The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.
Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.
When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.
“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.
“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.
“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.
“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.
“Swear.”
#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#joel miller father figure#joel miller fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller platonic#joel miller x reader platonic#tlou imagines#tlou one shot#tlou imagine#tlou angst#tlou fluff#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x you#tommy miller angst#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal fluff#heartpascal writes
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Toshiro/Shuro is overhated
(mirror of my thread on twitter)
ever wanted to talk abt something so bad but u have so many thoughts so u cant even begin to organize a sentence. thats me abt shuro and its why i cant give my thoughts on him. i NEED to get this out of my system bc its takign up so much memory in my brain i need that space for thinking.
so i was really surprised to find so much hate for him even tho he seems pretty normal and rational out of the whole cast. ive deducted that its mostly abt his laios fight and that the ppl who hate him probably had bad experiences w social cues and relationships w neurotypicals bc of that. theres no way to avoid it bc its pretty much Right In Your Face that laios is ND. but thats not the only factor in why their relationship is rocky. its also the culture barrier. u have to understand toshiro was raised as JAPANESE NOBILITY ofc he would be a little conservative
also culture shock. idk if u know this but jp culture is very Mind Your Own Business like a lot of other asian cultures . ofc hes gonna be weirded out by a stranger invading his space. also his names not even Shuro. its just yt ppl not pronouncing his name right and settling for whats easiest.
img src: fan translation by savaralyn2 , i think its from the adventurers bible Complete Edition bc i dont remember it in the old one
ok you get the gist of the culture aspect of it. lets go into the ND/NT clash aspect of it. yes i understand its pretty hurtful to never be told when youre acting inappropriately. i am autistic too lmao. but you have to understand that shiro is one guy and he even does realize that repressing things is one of his fatal flaws. again. asian culture. non confrontational. that sorta thing. but these are genuine frustrations. if i were him id be annoyed too but id speak out about it. set boundaries. bc im blunt. shiros not. he was taught crazy strict manners (hierarchies, respect, politeness, etc).
his problem isnt ableism its a culmination of culture barriers, how he was raised to behave, and terrible lack of communication as thing caused by "all of the above" plus he just generally keeps to himself a lot which means repressing frustrations that will explode leading to a pathetic fistfight while hes starved, exhausted, and dehydrated. also. if he was ableist he would hate laios. he doesnt hate laios. at the end of the day, they are friends. NT and ND ppl can be friends u know. there will be rifts (like their fight) but you just have to communicate misunderstandings. theyre gonna be fine lol
anyways that was my whole spiel abt it. i think i got everything out that i wanted to? my head still feels a little full so i may add more later when i remember something
also i think its a little unfair to rule out the possibility of laios and him just being 2 very different kinds of ND bc its very common for misunderstandings to occur even then. EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT BUT WE NEED TO COMMUNICATE TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER! but for the sake of interpreting the Fight as a commentary on NT social rules and ND frustration, ill say toshiros NT. will we ever know? hes so far in the sidelines... youd really have to dig in the extra content to see the intricacies of his character.... please give him a chance
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dark red
kaveh x reader II 2.0k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, heavy angst, character death, hurt no comfort, implied severe depression and untreated mental illness, face-sitting, cunnilingus, body-worship, praise, masturbation, unhealthy coping mechanism, implied alcohol use, unedited
synopsis: kaveh feels as though his life is completely falling apart when he is greeted to a cold and empty home after work, only for you to appear with a smile.
❝ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 ❞
Kaveh couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely smiled. His head felt as though it was spinning as he trudged his way back from meeting a client all day; night full present in Sumeru City. His brain pounded against his skull in loud thumbs that matched his heartbeat. He dug through his pockets, fumbling to feel the familiar cool metal of his key before pulling it out.
Tears pricked at his eyes, overwhelmed by everything and everyone at the moment. His shaky hand struggled to put the key into the hold multiple times before it slid. He lifted his arm to wipe the tears that didn’t go away from his brisk blinking. Trying to blink them away as some managed to escape and cascade down his sun-kissed cheeks, he turned the knob and opened the door.
Silence and darkness greeted him. Not a pin-drop, not a footstep, not a breath beside his own.
Who would have guessed that the most famous architect in the region had a soulless home for himself?
Kaveh let out a sigh as he turned to close the door and flick the switch of the room on. With one deep breath, he turned around to see you in front of him, smiling and head tilted to the side in curiosity.
As if it was magic, just seeing your eyes made him feel lighter—your smile like the sun of the desert soothing the darkness that wanted to consume him. His eyes softened, slowly walked up to you before letting his arms wrap themselves around you.
“Archons, I missed you…” he murmured, face pressed against your hair spelling the slightly familiar scent of your hair products. You chuckled, returning the gesture.
“How was your day today sweetheart? You don’t seem like you’re in the best of moods if I’m being honest,” you admitted. Kaveh huffed—letting himself stop holding your body—moving to attention on your hands as he felt them tenderly.
“No, just my client. Rich and egotistical as the last one. Every conversation with them is: ‘give me the most expensive thing’, like that’s the most important thing? Practicality and beauty have to work harmoniously,” he scoffed, eyebrows creasing in annoyance.
“I think they just want to sell it off after I work on this building for probably double the price! I would have dropped this case already but…I need the money,” he groaned—closing his eyes—feeling your hand slipping away from his grip and brush against his cheek. He leaned against the touch, slightly pouting.
“They sorta remind me of someone we know…” he scoffed. You let out a laugh, patting Kaveh’s firm chest at his response.
“Come now, you got to give your old roommate some slack. He moved out and let you have this place to yourself. Alhaitham couldn’t have been a monster if he did that for you,” you reminded. Kaveh pouted and sighed dramatically once more, lifting his hands in defeat.
“Fine, I’m not going to talk about him tonight. I got enough stress as it is,” he muttered. Smiling once more, you leaned over placing a kiss on Kaveh’s cheek as his eyes softened once more at your figure.
“Why don’t you go ahead and eat something? Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten all day again haven’t you—”
Kaveh hummed momentarily pondering your suggestion, letting his hands reach out and travel to your waist, before interrupting you.
“Honestly, I’d rather get my fill from you. Work was…difficult. I could just use you in my arms for a while,” he revealed. He leaned in as your noses brushed against one another, before slowly moving to claim your lips. The sweet bitterness of booze was on his tongue, as your heads tilted to get closer to one another. His hands pinched at your waist, as he felt your lips curl upwards in the kiss.
When you two leaned away, your lips were glossy—a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
“So please…indulge me for a little while…”
The two of you made haste to the bedroom. You sat on the bed, grabbing onto part of his cape to bring him closer quickly. Your hands made their way under his firm, feeling the cool, smooth skin of his body before helping him lift the shirt off of him. Kaveh hummed, feeling your fingers graze from his pectorals down to his abdomen, tracing the defined curves of his V-line.
Kaveh shivered as goosebumps coated his body, cock beginning to brim with life as it pressed against his black slacks. As your hands settled on the waistband of his pants, Kaveh gently grabbed them to stop them from going further.
“Not this time lovely. Like I said, please let me indulge myself,” he cooed. With a gentle touch, Kaveh slowly began to peel the layers of your clothing off of it, letting them fall and adorn the tile floor.
He slowly crawled on top of you, letting his lips brush against the various curves and imperfections of your body. His touch was delicate, tracing around any freckle, any mole, any birthmark as if to say he noticed and loved them too.
“You don’t know how lucky I am to have you in my life. I’m so grateful for every inch of you,” he whispered, lips making their way to your neck. He smiled, feeling your body trembling, as his thumb grazed against your slit. He could feel the wetness beginning to pool from your cunt.
”Think you can do something for me joon-am…” he whispered in their ear. You curiously nodded as he plopped himself on the bed, hand stroking at your thigh.
”I’m going to need you to sit right here for me darling…” gesturing to his smiling face. You snorted, feeling your face as your laughter filled the room. His cheeks reddened, yet he couldn’t bother to focus on his embarrassment when your laughter sang out as a song to him.
”So that’s what you meant by meal…” you replied. Kaveh chuckled, slightly embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his shoulder nervously.
You shifted your body, so your hips hovered above his face. You saw you shiver as his hot breaths stared at your wet puffy folds, begging to be savored and appreciated. His hands snaked up to your waist as he opened his mouth wide before you gently let yourself sit on top of it.
A gasp is ripped from you as Kaveh’s tongue swirls against your drooling slit, lapping up any bit of your slick that managed to fall in his mouth. He flattened his tongue against your clit, swiping the muscle from side to side. You grabbed onto the sheets as your hips shifted and ground on his face, desperate for any more friction.
Kaveh's hips bucked, as precum began to smear, causing a spot on his pants to darken in color. You guide his hands from your waist to the mounds of your chest. He slightly squeezed them, rolling your pebbling nipples with his thumb as he continued to lap you up.
His lips circled against the sensitive nub, sucking on it while he let his tongue roll fast circles on it. Another loud moan is ripped from your lips—your pitch getting higher and higher. He knew you were getting close.
He sucked, letting the loud noise of slurping your essence to join the sinful harmony of your moans before continuing to suck and toy with your clit. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks, nails raking against the satin sheets of the bed before your back arched.
“Kaveh. Kaveh! ‘aveh. Kav-ah…!” you babbled out, shutting your eyes tight. Your body trembled, finally reaching your high as you continued to squirm on top of his face. He pushed through his jaw hurting to continue to slurp and drink your essence as if he was starved.
As you let out a shaky sigh, recovering from before, you lifted your hips greeted with the dopey smile Kaveh had on his face; the lower half smeared with your slick. You get off of him, allowing him to take a few deep breaths before wiping his face with his hand, and lapping the excess slick clinging onto him with his tongue.
“Satisfied?” you asked him, propping yourself to the side. Kaveh’s scarlet eyes flickered up to you, grinning.
“Of you? Always,” he murmured back. He let his hands run themselves along the curve of your body, pressing kisses against your neck. With his free hand, he slowly removes his soiled pants and underwear, letting them fall to the group. His cock pulsated, twitching on its own, as it leaned against the globe of your ass. It smeared some of his precum budding at his flushed tip.
Kaveh’s thumb pressed against your puffy folds, pressing one to the side to give him better access. He watched as your hole pulsated before moving his tip against it and slipping inside. He groaned deep in your ear, slowly seething his cock inside of you before he bottomed out. He moved his hand away, resting it between the globe of your ass and your waist.
“Archons, I never want to forget this feeling,” Kaveh whined, leaning in closer in a desperate attempt to get even deeper inside of you. He slowly thrusted, as he continued to wander and appreciate your form. He could feel their warmth sucking them up, urging him to plow harder and deeper inside of you.
He grunted, lifting your leg to satiate part of his urges, watching his cock continue to disappear inside of you—glistening in your essence. Your hand dipped down, grazing against your overstimulated clit as you rubbed tight circles against it. Kaveh could feel your body quiver as you leaned your head further against the pillow, beginning to lose yourself.
“More…Kaveh, please!” you begged out. His cock brushed against your walls. Your body jolted as he rocked himself in a certain spot, walls fluttering and tightening against him. He moaned, continuing to fight the urge to thrust faster.
He wanted to make love to you, not just to fuck you.
Your body began to shift once more as Kaveh’s hand pressed you firmly against him. With a cry, your walls caved down, reaching your high once more. As your walls clamped down against him, his pace grew slightly faster before he shoved his face in your nape. With a muffled groan of your name, his hips bucked one final time.
”(Y/n)...(Y/n)....(Y/n)!”
As white-hot pleasure flashed throughout him, snapping his eyes shut, his hips rocked as ropes of cum shot from him. He sighed, staring down at his hand tightly wrapped around his softening cock.
The once euphoria that hit him seemed to be gone in an instant, the familiar cold and dark house back here again.
How long had he been hallucinating you to cope? How many months has it been since you passed?
You would never be there to greet him from work as he complained about clients, his old roommate. You would never be there to motivate him to take better care of himself. Remember to eat, not drink as much, not take life as seriously, and enjoy the moment.
As Kaveh sighed, moving his head to press against your old pillow, tears began to welp in his eyes once more.
Your scent that once kept him okay seemed completely gone now. He tried so hard to mimic your old oils and lotions but it was always off. Why couldn’t you have left him with that at least? At least he could fall asleep better pretending you were sleeping soundly next to him.
It never was that same scent you used when you were alive, lying next to him without a care in the world…
…And a smile on your face.
His bloodshot eyes flickered to a picture. A photo of you and him, smiling brightly underneath the ornate sugar cloth at your wedding.
He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore
Kaveh curled in a ball, tears pouring from his eyes as if it were an endless faucet. His body trembled, hands covering his face—exhausted and incomplete; alone and so lost without you.
After all these years, it seemed he finally understood his mother.
❝ 𝐎𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ❞
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#kaveh x reader#kaveh smut#kaveh angst#genshin angst#kaveh imagines#kaveh scenarios
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WIP guessing game: help
"I know about Billy, Marvel," Batman says, and Billy . . . blinks.
"You know?!" he sputters. Okay, so apparently his secret identity was just . . . literally never a secret at all, then. Which, well–Batman, so that just figures, really. So actually this is kind of a relief and might even mean that he's fine with–
"Yes," Batman confirms with a nod. "So I understand your current reservations about parenthood."
. . . wait what.
"Huh?" Billy says, blinking stupidly at him.
"I don't know how much of you is still C.C. Batson or what you do or don't remember about being him," Batman says. "But the resemblance is undeniable, if nothing else. Certainly your and your wife's deaths were . . . well, suspicious. And you're hardly the first archeologists to dig up a god or six."
Oh, okay. Well.
This is apparently what Billy gets for his personal mental image of a "hero" being his dad, then, isn't it.
Crap.
"To be honest I've been looking for Billy for a while now, I just didn't want to bring it up before I found him," Batman admits, looking dissatisfied with himself. "My most recent reliable intel puts him in Fawcett City, but I assume you're aware of that, given your evident attachment to the place."
"You're looking for Billy?" Billy asks incredulously. "Why?"
"Because he's your son," Batman says. "And because he's a homeless child who's been abused and neglected and needs help. I honestly don't know where you go when you're not being Captain Marvel–frankly I'm not sure if you even exist when you're not being Captain Marvel, given what little I actually know about your powers and your death and your role as the Champion of Magic and just how damn impossible you are to find when you're off-duty–but I'm assuming that wherever it happens to be is not necessarily conducive to providing a stable home environment and being legally dead certainly can't be helping with that, so my original intention was to find the boy and help you arrange some manner of care for and visitation with him. And given the revelation of your relation to Robin, well . . . I'd like to take Billy in myself, if you'd both be comfortable with that. It seems . . . appropriate, under the circumstances."
"You want to foster Billy because I'm Robin's soulmate?" Billy says, absolutely positive that he's misunderstood literally every single word that just came out of Batman's mouth. There is no possible way that he did not.
"It's not exactly out of my wheelhouse," Batman replies wryly. "Although I'll be keeping this one out of the tights, ideally. Though I make no long-term promises about that because quite frankly at this point I'm spoiled for soulmates who insist on wearing capes and I wouldn't really be surprised to turn up another one, especially given that Robin is yours and your own involvement in the superhero community."
Billy stares at him.
"Wait, are all the Gotham vigilantes your soulkids?" he blurts unthinkingly.
"Not all," Batman says. "But, well . . . probably more of them than you'd expect."
"Oh my god," Billy says in disbelief. "And you're just telling me that?! You don't tell people things, you're Batman!"
"I haven't always been the father I should have been," Batman says, and then he pulls down his cowl. Billy chokes, and then chokes again because apparently Batman is Bruce freaking Wayne and his brain just . . . just needs a moment to process that fact, like there is literally any way whatsoever that he could ever actually process that fact. He would've been less surprised to see a Kardashian under that mask, he's pretty sure. At least they've got athletes in the family, technically! "So I'm not going to make things difficult for you with Robin. Clearly he needs more than I'm capable of providing, and I'm perfectly willing to be transparent and to co-parent with you as much as possible. I want Robin to be safe and content and grow up well, and frankly put, Batson, you've proven yourself to be a good man time and again and I trust you to do what's best by our son."
Okay, well, now Billy just feels like dirt.
"You do know what happened to Billy, don't you?" he asks just a little bit desperately, because there is literally no way that this conversation is a real and actual thing that's really and actually happening. "Like, just–everything that happened there? There's a reason he's not in school or the system or with a relative or anything like that."
"What happened to Billy wasn't your fault," Batman tells him, meeting his eyes all quiet and intent and sincere. "And I will do everything in my power to help you make it right."
"Oh no, you're actually like . . . just genuinely a really good person, aren't you," Billy says despairingly, staring at him all over again and really, really wishing he could swear right now.
Maybe he'll just go throw himself into the sun. Maybe that's what he'll just go and do.
The corner of Batman's mouth quirks up wryly. His eyes even crinkle a little, which Billy can see on account of his total lack of cowl right now, oh god.
Billy despairs.
"I mean it," Batman says gently. "It wasn't your fault, and it doesn't mean you can't be a good father now."
"I need to talk to Robin," Billy says, because he definitely, definitely needs to talk to Robin. Batman inclines his head in an accepting nod, because Batman is probably under the impression that Billy wants to go give Robin a good ol' traditional "I know I'm not your biodad but I'm here for you, champ!" kind of speech, and Billy just . . . really cannot explain the real situation to him right now. Or ever.
Can he just lie to Batman for the rest of their lives, maybe? He can just pretend to be his own dad for the Justice League and keep dodging whatever Bat-surveillance happens to be in Fawcett and parent his older-than-he-is soulmate, right? That's a thing that he can do?
That's probably not a thing that he can do.
Although he might be willing to try, at this point.
#billy batson#bruce wayne#shazam#batman#chromatographic#rinfic#wip: billy and damian and the whole soulmate thing
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
Diary Entry: July 8th
You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.
When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.
‘Lukey, call me.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m in class.’
‘10 mins’
‘Or emergency?’
Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.
‘emergency!!’
Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.
Nothing.
You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)
That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.
I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.
You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.
‘step out. emergency!!’
‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’
Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’
Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.
Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.
‘Now!!’
The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.
‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’
Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?
‘just fucking call me.’
Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.
“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.
“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.
“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”
“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.
“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”
“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.
“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.
“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”
“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.
“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”
“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.
“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”
“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.
“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.
“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”
“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“
“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.
“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”
“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”
“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”
“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.
“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”
“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.
“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”
“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”
“What about leia’s new-“
“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.
Diary Entry: July 8th
The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.
I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.
To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.
That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.
You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.
I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.
Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?
Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?
No.
You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.
A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.
Fill me with you. All of you.
You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.
Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.
Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.
Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.
My love, everything you say is a hymn.
I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.
Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.
I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.
Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.
Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.
13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.
If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.
4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.
I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.
That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.
By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.
Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.
All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.
The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.
That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.
Just like us.
I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.
Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.
A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.
You give me purpose. You make me useful.
I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.
We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.
I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.
I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.
If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.
It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.
Diary Entry: July 12th
You’re so cute.
I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.
I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.
But I love the way you smell even more.
You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.
You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?
You won’t notice when I switch them out.
You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.
You’re welcome, and thank you.
Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.
It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.
The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.
Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.
You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.
So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.
Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.
That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?
I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.
Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.
See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.
Date:
July 12th
You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.
He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.
It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.
The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.
Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.
Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.
How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.
How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.
“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.
“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”
“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.
“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.
“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.
‘Jesus Christ.’
If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.
The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.
“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.
Truly a gentleman.
“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”
You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.
He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?
“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.
“You sure?” He asked.
Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.
His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.
“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”
“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.
Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.
In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.
If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.
That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.
But here he is.
In the flesh.
Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…
Anakin’s not that kinda guy.
“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.
“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”
“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”
“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”
“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”
“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.
“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”
“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.
“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.
“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”
“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”
“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”
“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.
“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”
“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.
Part Six
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
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✮ ┆A GET-WELL KISS. ada wong
last time ada was here she left you with wanting more and without a promise of getting back to you. despite promising yourself that you won’t be fooled by her again, you can’t help but give in to her cheap trick of trying to kiss you.
CONTENT WARNING. 18+ only, minors dni. SUGGESTIVE CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, set after re4r, medic! reader, mention of previous encounters, mention of sex, mention of wounds, stitches, flirting, making out, | ~1,1k words
A/N. got sidetracked from the event uhm… ada brain rot set in a hard but a little by little, i am getting to finish the event entries too !!! so i hope you guys enjoy this for the time being <3
the med bay was tranquil which was always a surprise considering that while your employer’s puppets were out during the night and show up in the morning for a quick tape and glue job, by this time you would be flooded with work. only she walked in, shielding her eyes from the bright lights that lit up the room.
after getting her onto the exam table and finally getting out of her what happened and where was she shot or hurt you were ready to cut her visit short because ada wong was one of your ethical shortcomings.
“any pain i should know about?” you can’t even look into her eyes to make sure she is not trying to hide her pain or any other injuries she might have missed to mention just to get out of here. “just the stitches but i think i can manage.”
“still, just to be on the safe side i’m gonna give you some painkillers if that’s fine.” you reach into your white coat to pull out your prescription pad, scribbling down the name and dose of the pills, tearing the paper before handing it to her. you wait with a puzzled look as she looks back at you, not taking the prescription, a small smirk on her lips like she is about to jump on you. “fine would be a get-well kiss.”
eyes almost falling out of their socket, a ball of air suffocating you in your throat as you hear her words. a get-well kiss… without a doubt, she was playing to benefit herself, because when was she not?
it happened before, you were on-call to treat anyone who came in complaining of whatever and she came- waltzing in and holding her upper arm with the look of a wounded dog who was too proud to admit their defeat. she sat in front of you, talked, and talked. still, it never felt like she was telling you anything crucial about herself or what she really wanted. the mystery drew you closer and closer, first a touch, then a look, and a kiss that finished with your blinds being pulled on for your office windows and her kneeling in front of you, pushing your thighs apart and tasting you until you were begging for more, begging her never to stop.
so little hesitation on your side might have been a tad bit childish, fumbling around with the piece of paper before tossing it on the desk behind you, but still understandable. ada was… a charmer, a sight for sore eyes, and any other metaphor that could overly describe how beautiful she was and clever with her words and tone.
took it slow, leaning up and closing your eyes like you were expecting a slap, afraid of the rejection if this was just a teasing remark and yet another way for her to confirm that you were still thinking about that previous incident. your hand takes her hand resting on her thigh, the other touches her cheek to pull her close and keep her steady against your lips. the warmth drains from your shaky fingers when both her hands attack your face, dipping you in your place as she stands up from hers, pushing you back onto your chair, and completely taking over every sense you have.
the smell, the touch, that one last look you get of her before your eyes shut once your surprise wears off. her fingers gripping your skull, a harsh grip as her tongue demands entrance into your mouth and you let out a lewd moan as her saliva mixes with yours. it’s so much more intoxicating than you remember, her tongue clashing with yours in a fight you can hardly call vicious when you give up so easily on dominance, so she can have what she wants.
and she wants you.
so she takes you, takes your breath away, and turns your head inside out as her kiss twists your thoughts. you can already feel the room warming up, your clothes becoming heavier with each nod of her head to position you the way she wants, the way it gives her the easiest access. you can’t help your hands flying over hers, clamping down on them as you battle the growing urge to escape her hold because this high that she is bringing you is gonna be a painful fall if she doesn’t come back.
and you don’t want her to leave.
ada’s nails dig into your skin to make sure you are paying attention, that you can’t escape as her tongue continues to duel with yours. she keeps her movements smooth, her lips soft, gentle even, as if trying to take everything you give without hurting you. you choke back a groan of pleasure as she pulls on your bottom lip with her teeth, leaving you gasping and unable to control your own actions. you open your eyes again to see her looking back at you with a pleased grin, her pupils dilated as her chest rises and falls.
her lips linger several moments against yours, barely touching as she huffs, out of breath and full of adrenalin. ada smiles wildly, her expression turning to one of adoration and affection. she strokes her fingers down your neck, hands drifting down to rest on your shoulders. her voice is quiet, her touch gentle. “feels much better… thank you, doctor.”
her seducing words never failed to kill every coherent thought in your mind, the way your muscles shook as your arms found their way around her body to keep her close. “a-anytime.” and it’s so embarrassing as you stutter, voice barely audible in the quiet sterile room. a wicked smile plasters on ada’s face, her fingertips coming up to run along your lower lip to cut that thin string of saliva still connecting the two of you.
she sighs, still trying to catch her breath before huffing out a question, “so should i come back or…” she asks and you shake your head as you lean against her stomach, indulging in this newly found comfort.
“if it hurts some these…” you point behind yourself, hopefully at the desk where the prescription was. “pills should ease it and if you get a fever you should come back and see me.” the spy above you chuckles, her fingers now resting in your hair.
“and if i dont have a fever, can i still come and see you?” your eyes pop with excitement and if you had a tail it would be wagging a little too enthusiastically. you move your head, glancing up at her and nodding.
“yes, you can.”
#📗 — written by moss !#ada wong x reader#ada wong x female reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil ada x reader#resident evil ada wong x reader#ada wong x you
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My, What Beautiful Hair You Have!—Vash the Stampede
summary: on a boring Sunday, you decide to get Vash's attention through some head scratches
content: 771 words. mostly fluff but suggestive towards the end, head scratches, needy reader kinda ngl (but who isn't for Vash's attention), one (1) hickey, written with tristamp vash in mind
a/n: saw this fanart and immediately wanted to write this. his hair looks so nice. anyway something soft before i post my first smut piece. aha
You should be thankful. Its been a long week of nonstop travel from dusty town to dusty town. You stopped remembering what the town names were, every stop melding into one as the exhaustion from the constant Tomas riding got to you. But finally, the week reached its end, producing a lazy Sunday for you and Vash to recuperate at the latest town you stopped in.
Both of you were lounging on the motel bed, sunlight creeping in from the second-story window, dust flurries apparent from the rays pouring in. You were lying sprawled out on the mattress, Vash sitting at the end of the bed, cleaning his gun. You feel your eyes shut, not from sleepiness. No. Boredom. You sigh loudly, hoping Vash can give you some attention. Silence meets your ears. You sigh again, this time much more slowly and drawn out. Nothing. Wondering what is so interesting about that damn gun of his, you open your eyes and stare longingly at his back.
“Vashhh,” you whined. He hums questioningly, continuing his ministrations against the metallic piece in his hand. That’s not the answer you wanted. You wanted him to turn around and pay attention to you. A conversation. A wrestling competition. Anything to drive away this boredom that’s consumed you.
Your eyes land on the back of his head, outlining where his scruffy brown undercut meets the soft gentle waves of his longer, blond hair.
When does he find the time to cut his hair? Why does it look so nice? He should let me cut it for him…
What stands out to you the most, is how fluffy it looks. You feel your hand moving on its own before your brain can even register the action. You feel your fingertips reach his head, and just as you expected. Soft. You trail your fingers up from the undercut and into his blond tresses.
Vash is used to you touching his hair. What he isn’t used to is you actually using your nails to scratch his scalp. A pleasurable shudder runs down his spine, whipping around to face you as he lets out a squeak.
“Uhh…” He doesnt even know what to say, only averting his eyes and trying to distract you from the blush that’s fallen on his cheeks.
“Oh, sorry, did I scare you? I can stop.”
“No, no. It’s fine… just took me off guard.” Vash glances at you, shooting you a quick smile before turning back around. Assuming he’s ok with it now, you sit up straighter, reaching your fingers back to softly scratch at his hair, admiring the way it shifts back into place, covering your path.
“How the hell is your hair so soft? We live in a dry desert!”
“I just take showers with whatever soap we have. Other than that, mostly water when we come across a fountain and I wanna wash the dirt off me.” Vash shrugs, peeking at you over his shoulder, his gun forgotten. You smile.
I win. You thought. You finally got his attention.
“I don’t know what pisses me off more: the fact that you’re blessed with this hair, or the fact you don’t even realize. Ugh, I hate men.” You tease, a slight quirk in your lip.
“Mayflyy, you love meee though, right?”
“Yeah yeah whatever you say hot stuff.” You can’t let him think he’s got the upper hand after ignoring you for an hour. The way his brown undercut trails into a peak at the slight bend of his neck triggers an impulsive thought. You lean in, trailing your lips across his neck, giving light kisses along the way. You feel Vash stop his movements suddenly, his breathing becoming shallow.
Got you right where I want you.
Just as Vash begins to relax into your gentle kisses, he gasps, eyes shooting open as you abruptly bite into the soft skin, suckling slightly after. You pull back, leaning on the palms of your hands as you stare admiringly at your work.
The satisfying grin falls away as Vash doesn’t turn around after a minute. Thinking you may have crossed the line, you offer a white flag in surrender.
“Heh, hey sorry I didn’t mean to stop you from working on your gun. If you want, we can go out and get din-”
His gun clatters noisily on the ground near his feet. Looking up, you meet Vash’s swimmingly hot gaze.
“Not tonight. You started something you have to finish now, Mayfly.”
You scoot backwards, inviting him further up the bed as he crawls his way to you.
This was gonna be a long night.
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#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#trigun x reader#trigun#trigun stampede#tristamp#vash the stampede#vash x reader fluff#vash fluff#vash drabble#bendycxmet writes
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Little Hen
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader
A/N: I'm obsessed...there's nothing left to say. I don't own any of these wonderful characters except (y/n). Enjoy!
Summary: Rooster takes his little hen to The Hard Deck to make memories like he did with his father
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, like your teeth are gone...
(y/n) - your name
(y/n/n) - your nickname
(y/h/c) - your hair color
(Y/n) sighed through the phone, stuck at work for another hour. "Bradley, are you sure it's a good idea to take her there? It is a bar after all."
"Yes, babe. Some of my favorite memories with my father were made at a bar."
She knew this meant a lot to him, especially how he lost his own father not long after those memories were made. He'd told her about his fear that he'd be killed before their daughter, Carole, even remembered him. She was now 4 and was just like he was as a kid.
She was adventurous, competitive, and most of all, a complete daddy's girl. The 4-year-old had Rooster Bradshaw wrapped around her tiny little finger. If she wanted a stuffed animal, he got it, and when she asked for a Hawaiian shirt to match him, (y/n) could've sworn she'd never seen him order something so fast.
Bradley had also formed the habit of calling Carole, "Little Hen" after her mom, whose callsign was Hen.
"Okay little hen," Rooster said getting her out of her car seat, "do you want to meet some of daddy's friends?"
She threw her little arms around his neck as he held her. "What about mommy? She's your friend."
He chuckled, swinging her around in a circle. "Mommy is my best friend, but I have other friends too."
"Whoa, Daddy. I'm dizzy." She announced, leaning far back away from him.
"Don't worry, hen, Daddy's got ya." With a content sigh and a bright smile, he kissed her cheek and opened the doors of The Hard Deck.
The room erupted into cheers when the pair walked in the doors. Jake, AKA Hangman, was the first to come over to the pair.
"Hangie!" She yelled, leaning towards him, her little arms extended.
Rooster handed her to Jake with a smile. "Hey, kid! Have you been listening to your mom and dad?"
She shook her head, glancing over at her dad, who was just watching the interaction. "Nope."
Jake burst into laughter, tickling her as she joined in with her own giggles. Rooster's heart was about to explode with love at the sight of his beautiful daughter. The only person missing from this moment was (y/n). She got caught up at work and couldn't join them for the movie night they had planned, so they decided to have a Rooster and Little hen night. He's brought out of his thoughts by Carole calling him.
"Daddy! Jake wants you to play!" she said, full of excitement.
With a sigh, he took off his aviators and gently placed them on her face as he walked towards the piano. The glasses were way too big on her, so they were slanted to one side, and they looked so cute. Bradley took her from Hangman and placed her on top of the piano. He stretched his hands slightly before playing.
"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain." he sang, looking goofily at Carole. "Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, oh what a thrill."
Carole somewhat knew this part, so she sang along with everyone else.
"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"
Her laughter echoed across the bar, lifting everyone's spirits even more than her dad's playing did.
"I laughed at love cause I thought it was funny, you came along and you moved me, honey. I changed my mind, looking fine."
"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"
Little did Rooster or his Little Hen know that (y/n) was leaning against the doorway, listening with tears in her eyes. They were the two most important people to her, and hearing them both so happy made her happy.
In the middle of the piano solo, she pushed off the wall and made her way over to the piano.
"Kiss me, baby." He sang
She came from behind him and planted a kiss right on his unsuspecting lips. Eyes widening in surprise, he turned and smiled when he saw who it was, continuing to sing.
"Woooo-ooooo...that feels good." He pulled her onto his lap haphazardly, making Carole laugh. "Hold me, baby."
By this point, he had completely turned away from the piano and towards his wife, muscle memory kicking in as he kissed her. "I wanna love you like a lover should. You're fine, so kind. Imma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine-ine!"
With her mom's help, Carole jumped down off the piano and took a seat on Bradley's leg that (y/n) was not occupying. Smiling down at her, he continued to play.
"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I get nervous but it sure is fun." He turned to (y/n), singing against her lips,
Come on, baby, you're driving me crazy," then turned to Carole for the grand finale.
"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!!" The group yelled in unison.
Bradley leaned down and dramatically kissed her on the cheek before kissing (y/n) lovingly. Carole jumped off his lap and ran in front of them.
"Daddy! That was awesome! Can we do it again?"
As Bradley sat with his wife in his arms and her head on his shoulder, watching their daughter have a moment of her own, he couldn't help but think of his dad. All his life, he just wanted to be like him, and his life looked very similar to how his did at Rooster's age. Knowing from experience that everything can change in a split second, he vows to take in every moment he has with his family.
Saying goodbye to their friends, Rooster looks over, noticing that his Little Hen is finally asleep in (y/n)'s arms. He looked over to Jake, smiling.
"Thanks for wearing her out, man. It sure saves Hen and me the trouble of finding a way to get her down."
"I'm just doing my wingman duties, sir." He mock salutes, giving Bradley a hug.
(Y/n) waves bye to everyone, careful not to wake up Carole, and walks out to Rooster's car. He's not too far behind them. Approaching the car, he hugs (y/n) from behind, nuzzling his head into her neck once their Little Hen is in her car seat.
"I love you," he murmured into her neck.
She placed her hands on his that rested on her waist. "I love you too, Roost, but where is this coming from?"
"You're such an amazing mom, (y/n/n)."
"And you're an even better dad. Your dad would be so proud of you, Bradley."
Turning around in his arms, she engulfed him in a hug that he gratefully returned as a tear slipped down his cheek. When they pulled away, (y/n) wiped the tear away, giving him a sloppy kiss. She leaned into the car and kissed Carole on the forehead.
"I'll see you at home, Rooster," she yelled, walking to her car.
Leaning out his truck's window, he saluted her. "Roger that, Lieutenant Hen. I love you."
"Love ya, Cap."
Bradley rolled up the window and looked back at his daughter sleeping peacefully. "Daddy loves you, Little Hen."
#bradley bradshaw x wife!reader#bradley bradshaw x pilot!reader#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster x reader#top gun x reader#rooster imagine#rooster x wife!reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun fic#top gun movie#top gun sequel#top gun rooster#top gun 2#tg2 spoilers#miles teller#rooster top gun#rooster#bradley top gun#tooth rotting fluff#dad!bradley Bradshaw x reader
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💋Transfer Proof💋
Joel x Fem Reader (1.4k WC) (18+ MDNI!!)
Summary: You needed a way to test out a new lipstick that claimed to be transfer proof. You knew just how you were going to.
Warnings: Smut (obvi), PWP, deepthroating, cum eating, submissive Joel, slight begging?
AN: Hello my bees! I’m obviously back again with late night Joel brainrot because who else consumes my brain this late. 😮💨 This is very loosely proofread, sorry. Almost scrapped this idea before a rush of inspiration finally arrived 😅 I really hope you enjoy! As I’m still new to writing and posting fics on here, I’d appreciate any feedback!! I love you all sooooo much! Thanks for reading! 😊
SMUT UNDER THE CUT! MDNI!!
For a while, you had been needing some new makeup. Your stash at home was running low. Even worse, you had a party to go to next week with Joel and there was no way you could salvage anything from your dwindling supply. So that morning you kissed Joel goodbye and headed off to a cosmetics store.
You sighed as you pulled into the parking lot, stepping out of your car and into the makeup store. You were familiar to the place, the usual top 100 billboard hits playing, the bright lights pointing in every which direction, and the deals that were plastered on every wall.
You looked around for a while, grabbing your usual items. Before you checked out, you saw a brand you enjoyed release a new line of lipsticks.
‘Matte and Transfer proof’ it read. You narrowed your eyes at the product. Every time a lipstick claimed to be transfer proof you were met with the disappointment of it fading throughout the day. You shrugged, knowing you’d regret not getting it later if it was actually transfer proof.
You found a shade that you thought beautifully complemented your undertone and smiled. You then placed your items to be checked out and had a silent victory when the cashier offered you a discount.
Walking to your car, you thought about ways to test the lipstick.
You could always just kiss the back of your hand after it dried, but you’d done that before and it wasn’t always the most accurate testing.
Maybe you could go out to eat with Joel and see how the lipstick held up then? No, you didn’t want to be seen with smudged makeup in public.
You huffed and got into your car, deciding you’d figure it out at home.
Once you got home, you engulfed Joel into a hug.
“How’d it go, darlin?” He rubbed your back in a soothing way, looking at you with admiration.
“Fine, got my usual. How’ve you been here?” You caressed his cheek, scratching his scruffy beard.
“Missin’ you.” He kissed you softly, pulling your waist closer to his body and letting out a content hum.
You snickered before pushing him away, rolling your eyes playfully and walking into the bathroom to place your new items in your makeup bag.
You zipped open your bag and unwrapped your usual items, throwing out the empty ones. Your hand got to the bottom of the shopping bag and pulled out the lipstick you had decided get at the last second.
You eyed it for a moment before taking off the plastic covering around the product. You took the cap off of the lipstick and admired the beautiful color you had picked.
You swiped the product on your bottom lip before smushing your lips together and rubbing the product in. With a pop, you admired how the shade sat on your lips with a soft smile.
You added a touch of extra makeup on your face in order not to look a little silly with just lipstick on.
Tilting your head from side to side, you checked yourself out, quickly getting used to the color. The dress that you’d picked out would pair with this lipstick like a dream.
After a while of looking into the mirror, you noticed it had dried down.
‘Matte and Transfer Proof’ You remembered.
“Sweetheart?” Joel’s raspy voice could be heard along with the knocking at your door.
“Come here, sweetheart. Our show is on.” He knocked once more before walking back to the living room, flopping down on the couch.
That’s when the idea hit you.
You knew exactly how you were going to test this lipstick out.
A couple moments later, you walked out of your room, the makeup still adorning your features. Joel was content to see you walking towards him. He quirked a curious brow at you before speaking.
“What’s got you all dolled up, baby?” He smiled, patting the space next to him. You rolled your eyes playfully, not responding to him. Joel’s legs were spread apart, his arms resting on the couch. He looked so damn sexy.
You then got down on your knees between his legs and began to unbuck—
“W-Woah! The hell you doin’?” Joel scrambled to grab your hands with a cherry red blush painted on his face.
“Wanna test somethin’ out.” You stated and shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You swatted his hands away and continued to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his jeans like you had done a thousand times before.
Joel was an utter mess underneath you, sputtering and stuttering as you reached his boxers.
Did Joel know what the hell was going on?
No.
Was he going to stop you?
Fuck no.
You pulled down his boxers just enough so his already hard cock could spring out. You then spat on the twitching dick, lubing it up.
You gave him a couple of quick strokes before licking a long stripe from his trimmed base to his leaking tip. He groaned as you kitten licked his tip a couple times. Finally, you wrapped your lips around his length.
You bobbed your head up and down him, a mixture of pre-cum and spit collecting around your mouth. You made sure the filthy mix was spread evenly around your mouth as you continued to take him down your throat.
Joel was panting and groaning as you continued sucking him off. Joel had always been the dominant one during your intimate moments, ordering you to do certain things, move certain ways, say certain things. It turned him on to see you so helpless underneath him, babbling incoherent things as he fucked you dumb.
But as you continued to suck him off, the pornographic sounds of your gagging, and how your nose touched the base of his cock, he realized that maybe he liked being under your control.
Fuck it.
He fucking loved it.
He let you take control as you slurped his dick perfectly. You wrapped your hand around his cock tightly and began to pump. Your mouth trailed down to his exposed balls that were filled with cum, waiting to be spurted out in thick ropes. Your mouth latched onto one of them, hollowing your cheeks as you had done with his cock. You sucked on it as Joel was turning into putty underneath you.
“Fuuuucck, baby. God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop—shit.” Joel threw his head back in pleasure, his hands gripping the leather couch.
“Baby, please. I need-I need you.”
Joel begged as he rose his head up to make eye contact with you. You simply shook your head, slipping him out of your mouth with a pop that made him whine.
“Nah. I’m testing something.” You repeated, taking him back into your mouth.
You bobbed your head up and down, gagging and gargling on him. You could hear his groans shift and his cock start to twitch feverishly in your mouth. These were the telltale signs that he was close, so you hollowed your cheeks, taking him in deeper.
“Just like that darlin’, please. I’m gonna cum—fuck yes.” Joel whimpered as your tongue swiveled around his tip every time your head bobbed up.
At last, he came, warm stripes of white bliss filling your mouth. You heard Joel let out a pathetic groan as he came, his breath faltering a bit. You licked your lips and swallowed, getting up from your spot between his legs. You pulled out your phone and pressed on the camera app, a reflection of yourself popping up on the screen. Your eyes widened and a smile showed on your face as you saw the gorgeous color you’d picked out still painting your lips. You grinned and sat down next to Joel, watching the remaining of your long forgotten show as if nothing had happened.
Joel was panting, his breath still irregular as his soft cock poked out of his jeans. He was in pure euphoria at the way you had just…used him. He let out a breathy laugh as he stuffed his length back into his jeans. Joel thought about a couple things.
One, he absolutely was going to have you take control more often.
Two, he had it bad for you. Worse than he thought.
Three, he was going to buy you every lipstick he saw from now on.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel the last of us
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Hello I really like your work!
Could I maybe make a request about the reader having anxiety and Fanboy dropping everything to go comfort the reader (who they’ve both secretly had a thing for each other) lots of fluff! Lol
OMG yes this is so cute!! Sorry it took so long, you probably don't even remember sending me this ask, but I have not forgotten!
Call me ⇴ M.Garcia
pairing: Mickey Garcia x gn!reader
summary: when things get rough, you know exactly who you have to call.
content/warnings: anxiety, panic attack, fluff, final exams (that should be a proper warning)
word count: 1.3k
a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration.
masterlist
You smiled at the picture on your phone, Mickey's smile illuminating the screen. He'd sent you a text just before leaving the locker room and joining his friends up in the sky. His goofy face always managed to stretch a smile onto your lips. You sent him an emoji blowing a kiss even though you knew he would only see it in a few hours when he'll be back on the ground. You put down your phone on your desk face down and looked back at your laptop, your smile fading quickly. You needed to study.
You managed to learn a good part of your subject before you heard your phone vibrate. You looked at the window and saw that the sun was now high in the sky. You sighed and answered your best friend. "Hey, Mickey!" You smiled, happy to get this break in your study session. "Hey! Did you see the picture I sent you?" He immediately asked. You chuckled and rubbed your forehead. "Yes, Mickey, I saw it. I even texted you back, didn't you see?" You could hear men voices behind him and figured out he was still in the locker room. The sound of his voice became a bit more distant, surely from the fact he put down his phone to change clothes. "Nah, sorry. I didn't check my messages, I immediately called you when we were dismissed." Wolf whistles were heard on the other end but Mickey was quick to make them stop with an insult.
You could hear him shuffle and then his voice got really close to the phone, as if he removed the speaker. "How's studying?" He asked, his tone way calmer now. You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Boring." He chuckled and you heard him close his locker. "Yeah, I figured. Do you want me to come over and clear your mind?" You looked back at your laptop and scooted closer to it. "Nah, I'm good. I'm gonna study some more, I'll let you know if I need anything." He didn't say anything but you didn't need him to, you already knew how he felt about how hard you were on yourself about those exams. "I'm fine, Mickey. I hope you had fun today." You told him before he could even scold you. You heard him slightly sigh and could almost hear the smile stretching his lips as he answered you. "Take care, I love you." You smiled and made a kissing sound right to the phone. "Love you too, Fanboy." He groaned at the callsign. "Don't call me that!" You laughed some more before hanging up and turning off the sound on your phone. You put it back down and focused on your laptop.
Reading again and again the same words until they were engraved in your brain. You only took a quick pause to make yourself a tea to drink as you read the same words all over again. You didn't even notice the sun starting to go down until your stomach asked for food. You leaned back in your chair to stretch your muscles and glanced at the window, your eyes widening as you notice how late it must already be. You checked your phone and was horrified to see it was already 5 in the afternoon. You had barely done anything of your day and the final exams were coming soon. "No, no, no..." You closed your lesson and opened another one, if you couldn't learn everything by heart, you at least wanted to know the basics of each of them.
Your heart started beating faster as you read the lesson you wrote months ago in class. Why didn't you study sooner? Breathing through your nose turned out to be quite difficult as your lungs asked for more and more oxygen. Your hands started trembling as you tried to go through your lesson. You shook them firmly to get rid of the tremble but nothing seemed to help you at the moment. Tears blurred your sight and burned your eyes but you couldn't allow yourself to take the time to properly cry when those exams would determine if you can get a job or not. So you simply let the tears roll down your cheeks as you tried to read your lesson, holding your shaking hands and breathing heavily through your mouth. The first sob broke through your focus and you felt your chest clenching, squeezing your heart in your ribcage and feeling like you might die from suffocation. You brought a hand to your chest and whined in pain. You didn't know what was happening but you knew what to do.
You tentatively grabbed your phone and Mickey's warm smile greeted you on your lock screen. You searched for his contact and immediately put on the speaker, not trusting your hand to hold the phone during the call. It rang one. Two. Three times. "Hello?" His voice warmed your heart. You could hear voices behind him and music, sign that he was at the Hard Deck with his friends "Mickey?" Your shaking voice must have alarmed him cause you heard him excuse himself to his friends and the music faded behind him. "What's wrong?" He sounded so serious. "I..I don't know what's happening... I can't... I can't breathe." You quietly sobbed. "I'm on my way, don't move and try to slow your breathing." You tried to protest but he had already hung up on you. Your phone turned off automatically and you were once again alone with the bloody laptop.
Not even twenty minutes later, you heard your front door open after Mickey used the spare key you gave him a few months ago. He ran to you and wrapped you in his arms as you cried some more, feeling safer than ever against him. He rocked you against his chest, stroking comfortably your hair and murmuring sweet nothings to calm you down. You both let yourselves fall on the floor but he never let you go, holding you close to him. "It's okay, you're okay. Breathe with me, Angel." He took a big breath through his nose and waited for you to do the same. He then Breathed out through his mouth, watching attentively as you did the same, your exhale way shakier than his. "You're okay, you're with me." He kept rocking you until you completely calmed down. More tears rolled down your cheeks to soak Mickey's shirt but he really couldn't care less.
It felt like forever until you were both laying on the floor of your apartment, your gaze glued to the ceiling as his eyes couldn't leave your face. "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, almost in a whisper not to startle you. You swallowed and turned to him completely, resting your weight on your hip. "The exams. I'm so scared I'm gonna fail." Mickey immediately sighed at your answer and new teras threatened to spill but he quickly turned his body to you and gently grabbed your face to wipe your tears. "You're too hard on yourself, Angel." You pursed your lips and looked away as he scooted closer to you, opening his arms for you to snuggle in close. You quietly cried against his chest as he stroked your back soothingly. "Angel?" He called, stopping his movements on your back. "Hmm?" You answer, staying snuggled in his shirt. "Look at me, please." You leaned back and looked up at him, meeting his brown eyes. He softly smiled and closed the distance between you two, pressing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips. Your eyes widened and you felt your face heat up as he looked back into yours eyes. "You're gonna nail it, I'm sure. You're the smartest person I know, no exam should scare you." He then kissed your forehead and tenderly tucked his chin on top of your head.
#fanboy#mickey garcia#mickey fanboy garcia#danny ramirez#fanboy x reader#mickey garcia x reader#mickey fanboy garcia x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#fanboy fanfic#mickey garcia fanfic#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick fanfic#fanboy x you#mickey garcia x you#mickey fanboy garcia x you#danny ramirez fanfic#danny ramirez x reader#danny ramirez x you
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Firewatch Part 2
Summary: You wake up in the Fire tower confused and going through sedative after effects and shock.
Words: 2.1k
CW: None
Confusion was the first thing. You were confused. It was such an effort to get your eyes to open. Maybe you had caught a cold? You groaned at the idea and rolled over in bed to try and grab at another pillow, finding your forehead hitting against something solid. Why were your sheets so scratchy? Oh no, you could smell smoke, you knew you shouldn't have done that rewiring by yourself.
"There, you're ok. Sorry, I must smell bad right? Would've changed into sweats but you seemed so content right here that I didn't want to move."
That certainly got your attention. You rolled back half way, letting your eyes open to look up at the man whose lap your head was in. The yellow glow from the lights above him made him look like an angel with that bright smile of his.
Kyle felt his heart nearly stop when you brought fingers to his cheek, looking up at him all adorable and soft. He knew it was the drowsiness from the sedative wearing off that had you so slow and touchy, but who was he to stop you? That was an impossible thing to ask of him when he watched the way your brows furrowed cutely in confusion. You were so much prettier up close.
"Who...?"
"My name's Kyle, everyone calls me Gaz though."
"Hmm" you sighed, your mind trying to just focus on one thing to try and ground. "Kyle... s'a pretty name." You could hear the slur in your voice and it made you frown. That didn't sound like you at all. Weren't you supposed to be in bed?
"Think any name would be pretty if you said it luv," Kyle said, his smile making you want to smile too.
You lay like that for a while, just looking at him while your brain tried to take account of your body. He was playing with your hair you realised after a while, gentle and relaxing. He was in a compression shirt and you could see a firefighter's jacket thrown over the back of the sofa you were on. Oh, that was why it had felt scratchy beneath you and smelled of smoke, he must still be wearing the bottom half of the suit. Wait, why were you on a cute firefighter's lap again? You shot up, feeling a rush of dizziness from the suddenness of the movement that was only somewhat soothed by the hand that had been playing with your hair going to rub circles on your back.
"Dosia!"
"Dosia?"
"My cat! What... what happened?"
Kyle knew Dosia was your cat. They had figured that out as she had been rubbing up against Price and Johnny had tried very hard to get her to do the same to him without much success. Johnny said it had been close enough to your cottage that they heard you call on her. That was months ago. He didn't want to say that they had been stalking your cat through the woods whenever she went wandering so that they could make the little thing like them, but that had sort of been what it was. Not that Price had needed to, Dosia loved him and Simon almost as immediately as she had hated him and Johnny. At least she didn't hiss at them anymore, just tolerated them. Good thing since she was their cat now as well.
"Oh right that's who she belonged to! We picked up a little cat in the forest nearby after the fire, she's fine. Do you remember the fire?"
"Oh God, I nearly died. I... did you save me?"
You turned on the sofa to look at him. If only you knew the sight you made, on your knees, hands planted on the sofa in the gap between them, looking up at Kyle with those big confused doe eyes. Price had said he should lie to you when he needed to, and it felt very much like he needed to lie to you. It wasn't like he hadn't been part of the team that saved you, even if it wasn't him behind that mask that had been cradling your head so gently after hauling you out of the flames.
"I will always save you."
He had turned his body slightly as well to be in line with you and the absolute reverent sincerity of the statement caused your breath to hitch. Dosia was safe, you were alive, there had been a fire. Everything was hazy and you felt weak and dizzy and through all that was this beautiful man who had saved you looking at you like you hung the stars. It was intense and you could feel the heat of the fire on your skin and feel the smoke in your nostrils and see your whole life going up in flames as the memories came leaking back.
You didn't want them, you wanted anything else but remembering exactly what had happened. The only thing that you needed to know was that you had been laying there looking up at this man in a mask, the man who had carried you out of there. And he was telling you that he'd save you again if it came to it.
Kyle watched it happen, watched as you were experiencing everything again. Couldn't do it, couldn't just let you spiral. Maybe it would be the healthy thing, let you process it all. But the healthy thing would inevitably calm you down, get you asking the right questions and wanting to get out of here and start building your life back again. The healthy thing would make you leave because he didn't know what lie they were going to tell to get you to stay. And he couldn't have that.
It was easy to have all that sudden building dread and terror convert to heat when Kyle lunged forward and pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. You threw yourself into it, instantly all teeth and tongues and oh you were on your back on the sofa now and his big, safe body was over yours, hand dancing up your side and making your nerves spark. You couldn't keep still, hands grabbing at his face then his hair then his neck, anything to keep him from leaving you.
His knee was settled between your legs to keep him steady and you accidentally bit his tongue when he pressed closer to give you friction. He pulled back with a sharp cry and you just panted up at him in shock and utter embarrassment. Practically ravishing a man you had only met hadn't made you go red but biting his tongue like an idiot because you had gotten a little over excited had heat flooding your cheeks.
"Dinnae stop on our account."
Oh God, there were 3 men walking into the room. The room that you were splayed out on the sofa in, hair mussed, lips swollen and skin flushed. They weren't dressed like fire fighters but they were all large and fit looking.
The one who had spoken looked pissed off. He was shorter than the others but broad, soft mohawk haircut and sharp blue eyes. He was ruggedly handsome in jeans, boots and an old rugby hoodie. You liked his accent you thought, would like it better if he didn't seem angry with you. They must be the other fire fighters who were off duty now. They would have been there at the cottage. They would have risked their lives to stop the fire, barely made it home and gotten cleaned up and then come to relieve Kyle only to find you with your tongue down his throat.
You pushed frantically at the chest above you, giving yourself just enough room to be able to twist your limbs around his and roll off of the sofa to the floor, scrambling to stand and straighten yourself out. By the time you had made it to your feet one of the other men was already there, ready to catch you when your legs went to jelly and collapsed out beneath you.
"Woah there little bird, you need to go slow for a bit, don't have your legs back yet. Not that Garrick would have helped," he said, only sliding a short, stern glance at Kyle before returning his full attention to you.
He was older, handsome in a way that was cosy. When his eyes were on you, you could see his smile in them. It went a little ways to calming you, but you couldn't help but glance at the Scottish man and the other man standing moodily by him in a balaclava. You could not believe the situation you had found yourself in, having to cling as gingerly as you could to someone to stay on your feet after being caught making out with one of his colleague like a horny teen.
"I- sorry, I'm ok now I think" you said, mortified and off kilter.
He didn't fully let go of you, keeping his hands gently grazing your elbows as you caught your balance and took a moment to get some solidness about you. There was a wild thought in your head that he smelled nice, like pine and suede, and suddenly you felt disgusting. You were filthy, covered in sweat and ash and it was ridiculous that Kyle had even wanted to kiss you in this state. You wanted to be clean, you wanted to be clean and bundled up in blankets with Dosia and a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
Johnny wasn't mad at you, never at you. He wasn't even properly mad at Gaz, just jealous. He had always been a bit of a jealous bastard, hell he had been green when Dosia had instantly taken to Simon over him. Price he could understand, anyone would like that man, but Simon? Simon who didn't even like the cat? Infuriating. So when he came in after having to play nice with the police, after Price had made him shower and change before basically sprinting back to you, and saw golden boy Kyle Garrick on top of you? Absolutely committing the deadly sin of envy with gumption.
It wasn't until Simon had elbowed him hard in the ribs and he had went to growl at him that he actually paid attention. Simon nodded his head to you and Johnny actually looked, saw the state you were in. You were shaking, trying to touch Price as little as you could without falling over. God he wanted to kiss you until you forgot your own name. Thought about it too, was ready to march over and scoop you up until Simon elbowed him again before leaning down to speak in hushed tones to him.
"She wants to get clean and changed. Offer to take her back already."
Johnny side-eyed him, but he trusted Simon. Owed him his life actually, he had got him through a hell of a bad situation once with nothing but radio comms. So instead of going over all confident romantic hero like he wanted he instead put on a winning smile and approached like you were a scared animal.
"Hi bonnie, sorry if I scared ye. Name's Johnny. That's John, but we all call him Price tae keep it from getting confusing. This one is Simon." That's it, nice and soft and gentle so you would relax and want to come home with them. "Ye've been through a right shitemare of a day, so for now let's get ye a hot shower, some food and a reunion with yer kitty cat eh?"
You blinked at him, looking at Price and Simon and seeing them both waiting for you to respond. You couldn't look at Kyle, shyness now creeping in after the rush of adrenaline had worn off. It was like Johnny had completely read your mind because right now that sounded absolutely like the only thing that would make you yourself again. You nodded and Price scooped you up despite your little yelp of protest, chuckling warmly about how you didn't have shoes on so you couldn't very well walk outside.
Kyle waited until you were well out of earshot before swiping at Johnny, the Scot anticipating the move and dodging out of the way with a mean laugh.
"Shit timing you git."
"Naw, think ma timing was fucking astounding actually. Good of ye to teach her what a shite kiss feels like so I'm even more impressive in comparison."
Simon rolled his eyes and left them to play fight, falling into step quietly with Price. If Johnny thought he would be the next one kissing you, he was about to be disappointed.
#cod#cod au#fanfic#tf 141 x reader#gaz x reader#mhairiwrites#it is hard to do continuations and have them be anywhere near as good as the original because I actually have to start doing plot :(
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hihiii pookie :DD!!
tw// mentions of depression
i'm wondering if you could maybe write a comfort fic about miles 42 with a reader who hates asking for help even when theyre clearly suffering in silence because they were taught to just 'suck it up' and deal with it alone as a kid?
you dont have to write this if you dont feel comfortable with it <33
Thank you pooks :33!!
hi pooks @jrrantss <:DD oh man, okay so i was kind of that kid back then too (though i was a big crybaby) it's like the adults around me didn't fully comprehend why i was feeling the way i was, so in response to that, they basically condemned crying at home or in front of them. i'm sorry if you went through something similar or, hopefully not, something worse ;-; i hope this provides you some comfort, and in a way, might also let you know you aren't the only one going through stuff like this. i'm here for you pookie, all the time <:)
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
you can be honest with me. – miles 42 x reader (angst + comfort)
nothing went your way this week, hell, you couldn't even remember a week in your life when anything felt right, when you didn't feel that you were holding yourself back from letting go of everything that felt wrong, awful, and just... painful. you were too good at keeping secrets, too good at lying about how you really felt; and that was something you hated about yourself, how you found lying as your first nature, not your second. you lied to people when they'd ask you if you were doing okay, if your day was going alright–you always gave them the answers they want to hear, that you were fine, that nothing was wrong.
but when everything just comes crumbling down, and the cracks in your facade begin to show and become more obvious... you get more and more defensive, more and more angry, more and more... scared and worried about these feelings that are hurling themselves at you so quickly that you can't even begin to understand why they're affecting you so badly–why people can see the bare you now if you just turn your face to look at them or open your mouth to speak; and your boyfriend was the first person to see you this way, vulnerable, yet trying all you can to avoid that vulnerability while you're crumbling down.
"hey," miles calls out to you in a soft voice as he sees your back turned to him as you kept working on your assignments, hunched over at your desk with your brows furrowed together and your lips curved into a scowl. you had been avoiding him for a few days now–at least he thinks you might be avoiding him–and have acted very distant, very... out of it recently. you didn't turn your head around to face him, which prompted him to continue talking, hopefully so you could find a reason to face him and his worried eyes. "you've, um... you've been busy lately." "uh-huh." you hummed as you tapped the end of your pencil against your desk impatiently, racking your brain for the answer to the questions written down that all seemed to blur together as the shittiness of the previous days just irritated you even more, and the worst part was... you couldn't hide the fact you can't mask ot anymore.
miles' face contorted as he got more and more worried about you, not knowing why you were acting starkly different than the usual you, or the only you he was familiar with. he extended his hand out to you as he walked over, looking at your cluttered up papers on your desk and the smudged up marks on the paper from your erasures. "...is something wr–" "everything's fine, i'm fine, i'm just peachy!" "you don't sound very convincing." he said, his voice returning to his nonchalant, cool tone as he took a small glimpse at your face before you turned away from his field of vision.
he sat in the chair next to you and wrapped his arm around you in an effort to comfort you. "cielo, sonething's up with you. are you... are you sure you don't wanna let me help?" he asked you with a soft voice, hoping he didn't overstep any boundaries as you slowly turned your head to show him a bit of your face. there were tears in your eyes, though you didn't dare let miles see them fall down your face; there was a sob stuck in your throat, but you didn't dare let miles hear it escape your lips. you had been there before, being severely troubled for more things than just homework–but never had you been advised to do anything than the age old phrases you've heard all your life as a kid: 'get over it.'
you took in a deep breath and tried to tell him what those words you've exhausted yourself from saying all the damn time–that you don't need any help, that you've got this, that you're okay... but your body's betraying you right now. it's betraying you for turning your back on your own feelings, but that... was never your fault, never. as you let out the breath you've been holding in, the hot tears came streaking down the ends of your eyes, your scowl morphing into a sad frown as you felt yourself slowly come undone and all the raging thoughts in your mind boiled down into one thought right then and there: 'fuck no, i am far from okay'.
you had one tear come down, then two, then... a whole waterfall of tears came pouring down your eyes as you finally released that sob you had been desperately keeping in. you had released it out into the air as it mingled with miles' shushing and gentle whispers as he held you while you leaned against him, wailing as you tried telling him how nothing had been right lately. you choked out in broken cries how you desperately wanted a way out of everything horrible that's been happening but you didn't want anyone else to be bothered by your 'stupid, insignificant problems'.
"i just... want to be okay... but i can't even pretend to be okay for at least one damn day." "please, stop pretending, mi vida. it's hurting me how you... how you think it's strength to rake up everything by yourself... when you clearly need help." miles said with a cracked voice as he felt himself choke up at your melancholic state. you cried even more out of guilt that you saddened miles, but he kissed your forehead, cheek–your whole face as he murmured words of reassurance, of love, to you to calm you down and comfort you. "you're not alone, not anymore... i don't care if some idiots in your life want you to deal with alone, never to bother them–you're never a bother to me, got that?" he mutters to you as he holds you close, letting you sob into his shoulder, your sobs getting louder and louder all the while. he shushes you and rubs your back gently, kissing your wet cheeks as he keeps reminding you that no matter what you're going through, what problems you're having, he's always going to be there for you–be the help you'll need, one way or another.
"please, don't be scared, mi vida... you can be honest with me. i promised to love you with all my heart, protect you, and... always be the help you'll need."
he whispered to you as he looked into your eyes and gently wiped your tears away and leaned his forehead against yours, hoping you would be more lenient, more understanding towards yourself and your own needs; and that you wouldn't hesitate to ask him for help. because even if you don't ask him to, he'll be there to help you, be there to guide you, be there to comfort you the best he can. because he loves you, and knows you deserve more than what you think you deserve, that you deserve... the best of the best, and nothing less.
tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray
#earth 42 miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles morales x y/n#earth 42 miles morales comfort#earth 42 miles#earth 42 miles x reader#e42 miles x reader#miles 42#miles 42 x reader#atsv#atsv comfort#atsv imagines#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader
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