#At least I didn't physically hurt them this time
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Sniffle any louder
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state
Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread
Word count - 2k
A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry
Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.
Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.
Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.
Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.
She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.
This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.
Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.
After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.
Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.
Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.
"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.
Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.
She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.
Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.
"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.
"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."
Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.
"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.
"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."
You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.
"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.
"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."
"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.
"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.
You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.
Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.
"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.
You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.
Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580
#natasha x reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x you#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#hurt/comfort natasha romanoff#sickfic#fanfic#natasha Romanoff sickfic#marvel natasha#natasha mcu#natasha avengers
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Hi! I’m currently recovering from a pretty bad hip injury and am doing physical therapy right now. PT’s been really hard and hurts my hip like hell, so I was wondering if you could maybe write about either a McLaren or Ferrari driver (your choice) who’s going through it after a hip injury and is just having a really tough time, but all of the drivers (especially Lando, Charles, Carlos, Oscar, and Daniel if that’s okay - I know it’s a lot hahaha) are there to reassure her and cheer her on.
If you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I totally understand! I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night! :)
A/N: Hope I did ok with this one. Midterms prevented me from working on this but I tried to finish this as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy it.
Realistically you should be grateful that you can still walk after the massive crash you went through in Jeddah. Well “walk” is a loose term. Having to go through physical therapy and making sure your hip heals properly, you’re not able to put any weight on your foot and have to use crutches to walk. The combination of that and the lingering pain has not made the recovery process easy. But thankfully, you were only the reserve driver for Ferrari, which means you didn’t have to rush your recovery.
“How are you feeling?” Charles asked as he packed your bag for the day while you laid on the bed in your hotel room. Him and Carlos had been helping you throughout the week with getting around the Australian circuit and you were very grateful for your fellow teammates' willingness to help.
“I don’t want to walk or move. I don’t want to go anywhere.” You said.
“I could carry you if you’d like.” Carlos said. You shook your head.
“And risk you pulling your stitches? You just got cleared to get back in the car and we both know Ferrari can’t afford to have Bearman drive right now.” You told him.
“Please at least let me carry your stuff or drive you to the track. I'm the whole reason you got hurt.” Carlos said.
“No you're not Carlos. It's my own fault I crashed.” You said. You could tell that Carlos felt guilty about you having to fill in for him and then crashing during the race, but you kept trying to reassure him that injuries like yours came with the job of being a race car driver. The only person to blame for your injury is yourself, not the teammate you were filling in for.
“But if my appendix didn't burst, you wouldn’t have been in the car.” Carlos said. Charles rolled his eyes.
“Ok, the two of you can assign blame all you want for the rest of the day, but right now, we have to get to the paddock.” Charles said. “(Y/N), I will help you get down to the car. Carlos, you can carry her stuff.”
Charles helped you get out of bed and get situated with your crutches while Carlos grabbed your bag and the two helped you get down to the hotel lobby.
~~~
You had barely made it past the paddock entrance and the fan barricades before everything started to hurt. You knew that navigating the paddock was going to be difficult but you didn’t expect to have to stop and rest everytime your hip decided to flare up with pain. You had already told Carlos and Charles to go ahead of you, not wanting to slow them down. They were hesitant to leave you behind, but you assured them that it’s better they make it to the team meeting on time than have them constantly wait for you.
“Hey (Y/N)! How are you doing?” You looked up from leaning on your crutches to see Daniel and Oscar approaching you. They seemed to be in high spirits with it being their home race.
“I’m doing ok. I’m trying to get to the Ferrari garage but I’m having some difficulty.” You said, motioning to your hip.
“Let me help you then. I’ll give you a piggyback and get you there in no time.” Daniel said.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to risk anything before your home race.”
“Nonsense. Plus it’s better than you having to walk all the way on crutches.” Daniel said with a smile that was hard to say no to you. You reluctantly agreed and handed your crutches to Oscar before climbing on Daniel’s back.
“C’mon, I’ll get you to the Ferrari garage.” Daniel said. Oscar followed you two and the three of you started conversing on your expectations for the upcoming race. You did admit to Daniel that the piggyback was much better than walking. Without the crutches, your hands were free to wave to fans as you passed and that helped improve your mood.
“Oh, (Y/N). My gran made these for the McLaren team and I grabbed you one as a get well soon gift.” Oscar said, handing you a nicely wrapped pastry.
“Aww, thanks Osc.” You said. You unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. It was delicious and you smiled.
“Oh my god. Oscar, can your gran send these to me every time I get injured? I can already feel my hip healing.” You said. Oscar chuckled.
“I’ll let her know you liked them. But promise me you won’t get injured just for the sake of my gran’s baking.” Oscar said.
“I promise.” You told him.
~~~
“What if I don't recover from this?”
It was late at night. You and other drivers were at a club celebrating Carlos’s win, but you had to step out to get some air.
“You will. And after you've recovered, you'll win the next race you're in. It's a basic guarantee now with Carlos’s win.” Lando said, who had decided to join you outside to make sure you were ok.
“I won’t be in another race for a long while. Either Charle’s appendix needs to burst or Kevin needs to get more penalty points for me to be in another race this season.” You said.
“Well with the way Magnussen drives, I think you’ll actually have a shot again this season.” Lando said. The two of you let out small laughs, knowing that statement was sort of true.
“I have to be fully healed before they let me get back into the car.” You said, your smile slowly dropping. “With how everything keeps hurting, especially after physical therapy, I can’t help but feel like that’s not a possibility.”
“Hey, look at me.” Lando moved your head so you could look him in the eyes.
“I know my words can’t automatically heal you, but I need you to know that this pain will eventually pass. You’ll heal, and you’ll get back in that car.” He said. He placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side without trying to aggravate your injury.
“And when you do get back in that car, you’ll win that race. Proving that nothing can stop you.”
The smile returned to your face and you pulled Lando in for a hug.
“I can feel myself getting better already.”
#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#platonic grid x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader
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Just saw someone on TikTok saying the "You could live a thousand lives and never deserve that boy" saying that Cat King, Monty and Charles don't deserve Edwin and I've never seen so much bullshit in my life (as far as I can remember)
How come you throw down 3 character arcs and ignoring at least Charles' temper and context to put above on a pillar one character who has bad things as well.
Post was in Spanish, I'm translating what it said with the colors.
Sorry for the random rambling/texts, I had to get it out of my system and sorry if I had wrong stuff
Obviously spoilers about the whole series
Cat King: he started wrong and pressured Edwin on things he didn't know
There's an analysis post here that explains why the punishment made sense. Edwin was warned of not messing around with the cats. Cat King of course had moments where he made Edwin obvious and clearly uncomfortable, and either stopped there or stepped back. Even between all his flirty aura and wanting to play and be loved by this Twink Ghost, he still respected Edwin and was pretty much consensual (the bracelet not because again, it's just the punishment because of what Edwin did to the cats), like proposing counting cats instead of pleasing him physically as soon as he realized Edwin wasn't in that lane.
By the end of the season, he's the one that changes the less respecting from where they started (I think). He's still a flirty, charming, iconic, still respecting and asking for the hug, this time only calling him from the distance because he knows the context, they're mourning Niko, he can't be that flirty or attention seeker, he knows how much she meant for Ed. The flowers scene where it's both flowers for him but also for her (the flower's meanings about rebirth, purity, innocence. I think it's how Niko was for this world, but also huge kudos to this Reddit when I was looking for the flower scene)
Monty: tricked Edwin so the witch could have her revenge.
Monty is a Crow Familiar. He ofc owes loyalty to his witch. He was turned into a human with the condition of helping his master. And he catches feelings. He's been a human since what? Less than a week? He gets hooked by Edwin. He loves Edwin. When they kiss and Edwin says he doesn't love him back, he's hurt. And he's Esther's familiar. What did she do once she didn't get what she wanted? Plan on revenge. He's still hurt, he thinks Edwin didn't care about his feelings. He even said they shouldn't be friends anymore.
Damn, he even went along deeper even thinking that they wouldn't get the case since they were Ace Detectives, until he heard that the fungus ate ghosts/spectrals so this wasn't an easy revenge. He tried to lead them/him away from it. Then Cat King interrupted and well, shit went down. More hurt feelings, more disgraces. He gets back to Esther who dislikes that her dear crow familiar was on the side of Edwin and caught feelings. He didn't want to feel like that, he didn't ask to be hurt, didn't want to be human and have feelings. Ofc he couldn't be with Edwin as long as Esther is his witch, she still has control over him. And yet he tried to go against her orders. He even helped Charles getting away on last ep.
Charles: said cruel words, wishing he never died and throwing in his face that Ed would never be able to keep the group together because he can't and he lacks Char's charisma.
Charles was fresh from living on a loop that caught him because his reaction to trauma was too strong. He had to live(?) and watch over and over again a family suffering for the exact same thing that reminded him his living life. Even worse, he had to experience on bucle him trying to stop it just to be interrupted and made him watch it until the father was done, looking at the corpses and then the gunshot. Tell me about feeling helpless and useless when you are stuck on a loop where your attempt of trying to help it's not working and you are seeing it over and over again. Ofc he was more than upset for not being able to help, to stop Crystal from getting hurt, from Edwin lying to him because Ed was troubled in his mind, and Night Nurse reminding him the physical violence he lived, how he died.
Charles and Edwin died at 16. Sixteen. How many things they could've experienced but never happened? They'll never get to grow up. He died and he never had a chance to stand up against his dad and protect his mom. He lost the chance to keep the bullies away from others. He lost all the sensations, he lost most of his senses. Not being able to enjoy things because he can't feel them. He misses spaghetti, he said he might miss kissing (he and Crystal kissed, he said he didn't feel anything but well, as long as she does, he's okay with it). He misses being able to have people his age to hang around. And everything was taken away from him.
Ofc he tries to be positive about it, he tries to be useful to make up for not helping when he was alive. He didn't want to be like Brad and Hunter, but he wanted to be that cool guy loved by everyone and was an actual good person. You can't hold on a smile for too long without it turning into a fake one after having all of that. All those years he shoved away the familiar violence, until he had to live it again, two times, and see that he couldn't stop it. He's hurt by everyone (Edwin lying to him, the whole Crystal's case still unsolved, etc), and he reached the limit. Are you telling me he would just smile again and pretend it was nothing? He'd been doing that for so long, and now he was unable to hide it again.
And last but not least, Edwin.
Edwin Payne, sassy Edwardian Era Teenager who has an ego so big you can see it from space, plays hard to get on the cases, thinks he's better/smarter than anyone (one thing is being it, other is claiming it), thinking everyone is on his same level or page (the whole Does that look blue to you? We have the same left! Implying that what he says and knows are too obvious that forgets not everyone thinks like him. I relate to that soooo bad) Shoved away more than once Crystal, has more salt than the Dead Sea, calls out more than once Charles for trying to keep Crystal around, when Jenny was calling Crystal out for running or whatever he was shocked that Crystal wasn't paying attention to him like how dares she ignore me. And don't get me started with invalidating everyone's feelings when they said they were hurt or living a nightmare... We got it. Hell was a literal hell. But you're dealing right now with a girl who's around 16-18 and you're trying to solve her case, not a competition about "Who suffered the most".
Ofc at the end of the season he's finally fond of Crystal, he was finally accepting her as part of the team even without her powers, he's now able to express better his feelings, better at setting and saying things and stop assuming everyone is on his same level, he starts caring about people like Monty (even after breaking his crow heart, he apologizes and tries to explain that he was new to that as well and things could've been with them staying as friends until Cat King made his entrance and the reveal, Cat King with the whole Cat Mouse Game he was able to again, start accepting he has feelings and being the way they are is not bad, able to set boundaries, even allow himself to play silly things like actually counting the cats.
Edwin had to go through a lot of things to be able to actually be open and grow as a character. I feel everyone likes Edwin at the end of the season or praise his Salty Sassy Edwardian Teenager phase, and it's not bad, but please do not throw down other characters to get him higher. Or at least, don't throw them down like that. Do not treat him like it's flawless, just because you like his flaws.
I mean, I feel like I'm not writing nothing we haven't seen, like stating the obvious. Maybe a rewatch to see better the character arcs?
#dead boy detectives analysis#dead boy detectives txt#dead boy detectives charles#dead boy detectives edwin#dead boy detectives cat king#dead boy detectives monty#edwin payne#charles rowland#thomas the cat king#monty the crow#dbd edwin#dbd cat king#dbd charles#dbd monty#dead boy detective agency#dead boy detectives#reallifetangent#rlt#reallifetangent writes
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Aspersion
aspersion (noun): an attack on the reputation or integrity of someone or something; an accusation.
pairing: eventual spencer reid x gender neutral! reader
synopsis: in which spencer reid pushes a little too far
warnings: both spencer and the reader are assholes to each other a little, but it is justified! swearing (probs), typical cm violence and such, tension thicker than a cement wall
masterlist
word count: ~2.1k
a/n: hello and welcome to my first official criminal minds fic! all of the pieces in this anthology can most likely be read individually, but they will have connected themes throughout! please enjoy the first work in my "psych you out in the end" collection. want to be tagged? Let me know!
also casual reminder that this is glasses reid because i am gnawing at my enclosure over him
not proofread whoops
credit to gif owner!
It had been a long case. Five days in and little to no leads, yet a serial killer was still on the loose. This was your fourth case with the team now, most of which were still pretty apprehensive of your "psychological abilities." Penelope, who you've come to like the most, has been the kindest to you, even asking as far as for you to do her tarot. The rest of the team weren't as easygoing, but that wasn't the point right now.
It was of upmost importance to check out the latest crime scene, and you were paired with the hyper-suspicious Doctor Reid. He out of everyone trusted you the least, but now was the time to hopefully change that. He was a genius and you could read people, after all. You couldn't get a good read on him though, mostly because you two hadn't been around each other long enough to have more than a professional conversation. This was the first time it was the two of you, and you were going to make it count.
You could decipher anyone's aura, yet you were still a people pleaser. Ironic, almost.
"It looks like there was no forced entry, meaning that the unsub was someone they either knew or felt safe with." He darted his tongue between his lips after he spoke.
"Yeah, but aren't people in this neighborhood generally trusting? I think we should focus more on what he took." There was something itching at you about this scene, something that felt off.
You were a professional profiler, but you could just sense people's inner selves and auras--auras helped direct you into a person's mind and feelings. It varied per person and you weren't the best at explaining it, but you could tell a lot about someone if they even walked past you.
"Are you saying that the door might have been unlocked?"
"I'm saying it's a possibility."
Reid without a glance in your direction shook his head. "You know that's a very unlikely scenario, statistically women will secure their home much more than men, especially if they're living alone. Research also shows that when someone is under the impression that they can hold more than average strength either physically or mentally, they act out in irrational ways." He shrugged his eyebrows before murmuring quietly. "Like joining the FBI."
Did he just insult you? "Excuse me? Reid I'm just saying that we should shift our focus. Gideon said you had trust issues, but he didn't explain their severity." Had he really tried to undermine you in a way that he thought you wouldn't notice?
"Gideon makes decisions that could end up hurting the team more than helping them sometimes."
Okay now that was a diss. Wasn't he the one who hired Reid, too? You had dealt with people like this before, and you weren't going to let him get to you. "Let's just finish up and go meet up with everyone else."
--
The unsub was found and arrested two days later. Ironically, he was entering through unlocked doors, a detail that you were sure Reid was not too happy with when he found out. You were all on the jet ride home now, and would be here for the next few hours. This was the farthest case from Quantico yet, meaning the team finally had time to interrogate and learn more about you. Something that Emily and Derek were jumping at.
"Can you read my mind?"
"Can you tell what I want for dinner?"
"Can you tell when it's going to rain?"
They had both sat down across from you simultaneously, overwhelming you art first.
"Okay hold on." You threw your hands out slightly as a cue for them to stop. "Kind of, no, and yes--I check the weather station."
"Huh." Emily scrunched up her face, another question brewing. "So how does this psychic-ness work?"
You took a deep breath before starting. "I can just read you. Yes, like a profiler reads you, but also more than that. Profilers can only see the outside, but I can see the inside as well."
"Prove it." Derek crossed his arms. "Inside profile me."
Now that was a choice of words.
You held a finger up. "I will only if you promise to never say that phrase to me again."
He looked to Prentiss before a smile broke out. "Looks like they've got jokes, too."
A quiet laugh escaped you before continuing. "That I do. What do you want to know, Morgan?"
"My deepest-darkest secret." He said it in a joking manner, but you shook your head none the same.
"You don't want me to share that."
"I guess I don't. What do you really have for me, though?"
You took a second to really look at him, to see what he was hiding behind that smile--you were going to keep it light of course. You could look farther if you wanted, but the farther back you went the vaguer your readings were. "When were you going to tell everyone that you like Britney Spears?"
And just like that, you knew the two of them believed you now. Because the price on Derek Morgan's face was one that you wish you had a photo of. Emily's jaw dropped, eyes widening. "You refused to listen to her with me last week, traitor!"
Derek's mouth was also agape--he was flabbergasted. Eyebrows raised, he shook his head. "Fine, I believe you. Say no more. Please." His reaction made you chuckle, and it was all fun and games until Reid strode over, taking the seat next to you.
"You know, almost every public claiming psychic is usually a scammer or a fake. In fact--"
A groan escaped you. "Seriously? This again?"
"Yes! It was an incredibly irrational choice on Gideon to--"
The upbeat mood quickly dissipated, your temper going along with it. "Listen Reid, I don't need to explain myself to you. But, out of the kindness of my heart, I'm going to say this once." Emily and Derek''s eyes were bouncing between the two of you. "I don't announce it publicly, hence why "that is"psychic" is not my legal title. Second, I'm good at what I do, that's why I'm here. Believe me or not, but I can see right through you and your defenses."
The air took a tone that you didn't quite appreciate now, but he started this.
"You don't know a thing about me, in-in fact you don't know a thing about anyone, much less who I am." Annoyance was seeping through his words, and you were getting tired of his passive-aggressiveness. "You show up here being a so-called 'psychic'," his fingers went into air quotes at your title. "Yet you haven't done anything besides getting a confession out of one individual? Sounds like someone doesn't know how to handle being around actual profilers."
You wanted to slap the guy. But here you were again, taking the high road. "I'm too tired for this. If you want to doubt what I can do, fine. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before." You clenched your jaw and took a couple deep breaths to control your oncoming frustration. The conversation was over now, there was nothing left for him to say. How dare he insult your profiling skills too? How dare he--
"How have you been able to get this far lying?"
It was the straw on the camel's back, that line. He wouldn't drop it, and now he was going to face the consequences. You inched your head slowly to face his own, steadying your breaths even more, so you could make sure your words wouldn't get you fired this early on.
You looked into his eyes, really looking into him. The emotions he gave off, the way he held himself, his aura. If he was going to bash you for days in hopes of getting a response, he won. He was probably expecting you to give a grandiose speech on how you don't know what you're doing or how you just have really lucky guesses, but if there was one thing that you learned from people like him, it was that if they keep striking low, you strike lower.
Screw the high road, screw him undermining your talent, and screw people like him that thought they could get away with thinking their actions didn't have consequences.
You really saw him then, squinting slightly as you looked him up and down in the seat, the team around you remaining quiet as to remain listening to the rising tif. You could see right through him, see that he had some real parental issues, but had a overshadowing amount of loneliness surrounding his self, his mind, his body. It was vague, but it was there, and there is all you needed.
You leaned back as if to get comfortable, maintaining your eye contact. "When was the last time someone you cared about actually stayed in your life, Spencer?" You spoke nonchalantly, like you were discussing the weather.
You could feel the tangible tension that thrummed through the air from the two across from you at your words, and you knew you hit home. As to solidify your unanswered question, you saw a tiny twitch in his eyelid that responded more than any words could.
"Um Morgan? I think JJ called our names. We should go." Emily nudged the man and nodded to the back of the jet.
"What? No one has said anything. You're losing it, Prentiss."
"Derek, we're going." Her eyes went between you and Spencer to drive the point, and he finally picked it up after a second.
"Oh. Oh. Yeah, yeah I agree. JJ?" He called out. "We're coming!"
It was just the two of you now.
He broke eye contact with you after your words, and you moved in towards him as you lowered your voice to a whisper. "I see you for your inner workings, Reid. There's a reason I am good at what I do, and it is because I see you for how you see yourself. You do not want to make an enemy out of me."
His voice was caught in his throat for a second, mouth dropping slightly. He cleared his throat momentarily. "Are you threatening me?" Clear avoidance of your statement.
"No, Reid, I'm offering an olive branch. I suggest you take it." His silence prompted you further. "Besides your consistent digs at me, you're really good at what you do. Your brain quite literally runs a mile a minute, and my brain can see that. I am trying my best to chalk this all up to me being new, but I am really not appreciating all of this heat, it is extremely frustrating. You have your methods, I have mine. I'll give you some time to decide whether to accept this olive branch or not, but we would offer this team much more if you used those smarts of yours alongside mine, not against." Your chest was heaving slightly as the fire in your eyes blazed, but he finally got the message. "This will be the only time I'm offering this up." You turned away from him, needing a break.
You heard him shuffle and leave the seat next to you as you watched the clouds whiz by in the jet. It really sucked that he was cute too. All the adorable ones had to get you riled up, didn't they?
You felt a brief weight lift off of your shoulders as you heard Gideon speak to everyone on the plane about having the weekend off. Thank goodness.
--
That Monday you waltzed into the bullpen, a nice pep to your step after a break from everything. Iced drink in your hand, you set down your bag as you prepped yourself for the onslaught of paperwork awaiting you.
You had just gotten comfortable when you felt a tap on your shoulder and a familiar clear of a throat.
You swiveled in your chair, facing the tall man. "'Yes?"
"The oldest olive tree is known to be anywhere between two thousand to four thousand years old, but the specific age is currently being studied."
You took a sip of your drink as you looked up at him in confusion. "Good morning to you as well?"
He clenched his jaw quickly before continuing. "I''m saying yes. I accept the branch. It doesn't make sense to me and you infuriate me a little bit, but I want to work on it."
For the first time, but certainly not the last, you genuinely smiled at him.
And maybe he was losing all touches with reality, because he could feel his heart skip.
--
taglist: @alllriseabove @kitty-kei
#psych you out in the end#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#bau#criminal minds x reader#gender neutral reader#criminal minds fanfiction
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I was talking with my dad recently & we got on the topic of People Thinking They Can't Do Things, and like, he is at his core a well-intentioned person who genuinely wants the best for others, but he has definitely internalized some harmful ideas a la "anyone can do anything, the only thing stopping them is their own attitude". so I was like. I see where you're coming from, but let me tell you a story.
last year, I worked with 10 year olds- many of whom had never really spent time outdoors- in an outdoor education program where they came to spend a whole week doing shit outside in nature. the top two scariest experiences for these kids were 1) very tall metal tower, and 2) walking outside at night in the dark with no flashlights.
I tried a lot of different things to persuade them all to join me for each experience: I presented it with enthusiasm and passion, I did physical demonstrations and scientific explanations to help them understands how safe it was, I voiced my absolute commitment to their safety, I invited them to brainstorm ways to help each other and themselves feel safe, etc.
generally I always had at least 2-3 kids out of about 10 who opted out, or if they did join me, would spend the entire experience crying and freaking out. when it was over, they would conclude that even though they did not die- or even get hurt- it was so scary that it wasn't worth it and they never wanted to do it again.
then I changed the question I asked. instead of asking them to tell me whether they could do it or couldn't do it, I asked them to raise their hand for one of three options:
You can definitely do this.
It will be hard or scary or uncomfortable, but you can try to do this.
It will definitely be too hard, scary, or uncomfortable, and you cannot or should not try to do this.
suddenly, almost nobody was opting out of these experiences.
they would try, even if they were scared, because they know that being scared didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't do it at all. and more importantly, they knew that if they needed to stop, that was an option; they weren't trapped in their decision to try.
and the real takeaway here, for me, is in the nuance: people need to be able to challenge themselves and to be uncomfortable in order to grow, and people need to be able to opt out in order for opting in to be a safe option.
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#angst#angst with a happy ending
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin alastor#cuddles#reluctant cuddles#fluff#rhys-writes#alastor x reader queerplatonic
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Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)
SFW
Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.
"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."
Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.
His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.
Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.
Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.
Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.
Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.
Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.
Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."
His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."
He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."
Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"
Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.
Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.
Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.
He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.
His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.
Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.
Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.
"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.
He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.
Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."
Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.
"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.
Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.
Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"
NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)
Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.
He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.
Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.
His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.
You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."
You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.
You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.
He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.
Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.
Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.
He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.
Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly! This was actually a little warmup to get the writing going lol
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#wink writes 💗#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#radio demon#hazbin#alastor the radio demon#alastor smut#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel
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Wax
Summary: You tell your boyfriend you got waxed by a man…
Eren x Black Fem Reader SMUT
"Eren!" you called out as you entered his room. he looked up at you with his low red eyes making your heart skip a beat. you were already regretting your decision but you were going to power through. you gave him a little twirl, "notice anything different?"
you saw a trend on TikTok where girls would tell their boyfriends they got a wax done and you wanted to try it. you hesitated knowing Eren he could flip but your friends convinced you to do it.
Eren's eyes trailed over your body stopping at your ass that hung out of your miniskirt. "that ass getting fatter ma? shittt i've been feeding you good." he said as he licked his lips before making eye contact.
you turned around to look at it in the mirror. "i've been hitting the gym with Mikasa and Annie. i ain't even noticed the gains."
"cmere lemme touch it." Eren took a hit off his blunt motioning for you to come sit on his lap. if you didn't actually get a wax today you would've sat on something else. but it was now or never.
you walked over to Eren not missing the way his eyes watched as you purposely swayed your hips. "no, I got waxed." you said placing your foot on his lap.
"you’re so smooth." Eren started rubbing all up on your leg. "everywhere?" he asked as he trailed his hand up higher looking you in the eye.
"baby oil and cocoa butter, love." you said before giving him a nod. a smile graced Eren's lips as he pulled you down so you were straddling him.
"we can't do anything for at least 24 hrs…" you whined out onto his shoulder. "but that's not the point." you said as you shot up. you moved to the bed to create some space between you two, Eren rolled his eyes.
he picked up his phone but signaled to you that he was still listening.
"so I went to get a brazilian today and my regular lady wasn't there so they gave me someone else and honestly, i like them a bit more. they were getting all in there, like really in there and it didn't hurt as much. plus the guy was so ni-" Eren's head shot up.
"hold on ma, did you just say a 'guy?'" he put down his phone and looked into your wide eyes with his red ones.
"y-yea he did a great job…" the wall behind Eren suddenly became very interesting to look at.
"nah, i don't think i'm hearing you right." Eren sat up in his chair with his jaw clenched. "a man waxed you?”
"yes."
"you let a man touch you down there? see you naked."
"it's his job Eren."
"nah you pissing me off right now ma. you let another man touch your pussy and you telling me you're fine with it?" eren moved so he could look deep into your eyes causing you to flinch. you could see his anger building up and it frightened you.
he was always so quick to anger, especially around Jean, you can't say how many times they got physical. but he's never yelled at you much less put his hands on you but you didn't know what he would do now. he was unsettlingly quiet. you only nodded afraid you would get on your knees and beg him for forgiveness but a small part of you wanted to push him even further.
Eren surprised you as he started laughing, he rubbed his tattooed hand all over his face looking at you through his fingers. "you expect me to believe you let a man wax when you still get so shy when I say 'pussy'."
you looked away from him, if your skin was any lighter he would've been able to see you blush. "well he said I had the prettiest 'pussy' he ever saw. gave me his number to hit him up if my boyfriend didn't satisfy me enough." you were shy but you weren’t a pushover.
Eren took a big hit off his blunt before blowing the smoke in your face."ass up, face down ma." you quickly regretted your words.
"Eren wait-"
“ass up. face down. now!" Eren's never talked to you like that, he was always so sweet and nice to you. but right now he was so demanding, it was kinda hot.
you quickly moved to position, making sure your back had a nice arch in it before looking back at Eren with a pout. "Eren we can't…"
"mmhm." he mumbled ignoring your eyes. he pushed up your skirt and delivered a slap to your clothed heat.
"Eren!" you cried out in shock, you shoved your face into the sheets in embarrassment. you've never done this before. you and Eren were vanilla so far because you were a virgin up till a few weeks ago. this was something new and you kinda liked it.
"head up ma, you had a lot to say right? said you'd fuck your waxer cause i wasn't good enough?" he said grabbing your butterfly locs. they were about a week old so they weren't as tight but his grip still hurt. but you were coming to understand that you liked a little bit of pain. "lemme hear it."
eren planted a firm slap against your ass. "ah! It hurts!” Eren gave you another hard slap causing you to jerk forward. you heard him kiss his teeth before you were pulled down to the end of the bed.
“this not gon work.” he said as he maneuvered you so you were bent over his lap. “you keep lying to me, ‘s like you trying to get me mad on purpose ma. you like it when I’m angry?” Eren asked as he delivered another slap to your bare ass. your dark skin was starting to bruise.
how’d he know? you weren’t that bad of a liar. “i was the one who set up and paid for your appointments ma, they would’ve told me if there was a change.” oh, right. you brought your hands to cover your face in embarrassment.
“m sorry” you whispered.
“if you really got waxed by a man, i can’t tell you what would’ve happened.” Eren let out a bitter laugh looking at his dresser. it brought your attention to the gun Eren kept tucked in his pants when he went out. he always placed it in his top draw when he came home not wanting you to see it but you knew about it. it made you shiver thinking about him using it on someone. “but don’t worry you’ll be sorry. count to 10.”
“10 wha- ow!” Eren raised his hand high and brought it down on your ass making you jump. you reached back to grab his hand but he just slapped it away
“you run, lose count or complain and you start over from one.” he spanked you again watching as your ass rippled. you let out whine, you weren’t used to Eren being so mean to you but you were soaked. each slap sent a new wave of tingles to your core.
“how many are we at now baby?” Eren asked in that sweet voice he always spoke to you in.
“9.” you sobbed out. you don’t even know when you started crying and whether it was from the pain or the neglect of your core.
“think you can take one more?” despite being so mad at you it made your heart swell at how nice he was still being. he messaged your ass while waiting for the answer.
“yea…” he delivered one more slap but he directed it toward your clothed heat, fingers coming in contact with your clit, “ohhh fuckkk!” your body started to convulse as you felt pure bliss.
“fuck ma… did you just come from me spanking you?” Eren breathlessly asked as he placed you beside him, you winced at the contact. you nodded as you hid your face in his shoulder. “that’s my good girl.”
#aot x black reader#x black reader#anime smut#aot smut#aot x reader#aot#eren yeager#eren x reader#eren aot#eren smut#eren x black reader#eren x black y/n#black y/n#black reader smut
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What if Danny went to school with Damian? I’m just imagining them going feral together after a little while, because you know that Danny picks up on Damian’s liminal vibes.
I mostly just want Damien to bring Danny home, and for Bruce to do the headcount thing that Mr. Weasley needed to do in Harry Potter. Just like ‘I could’ve sworn I didn’t have this many this morning’
Damian made a friend.
It shouldn't be as big a deal as his brothers were making it out to be but even he knew that he didn't have the best track record on friendships. It was hard to get along great with the kids in his school.
A lot of them were too carefree, to be unburdened by the things he saw and did on a battlefield and he couldn't stand how loud and messy they all were.
Damian preferred to sit by himself with some headphones in and draw whenever he could get the chance. According to the other children that made him an "emo loser" and a lot of them took great joy in flinging insults and taunts at him.
He never even spoken to them but for some reason, the general populace of Gotham Acadamy deemed him a great target for their scorn. Sometimes Damian wondered if he deserved their taunts, flung paper and spitballs.
If his time in the Leauge of Shadows truly made him broken and wrong as his classmates claimed.
It wasn't like Damian couldn't defend himself. He could have all of them begging for mercy within a minute but to do so would put at risk his Robin identity.
Which then would put his family at risk. Damian would never allow those under his protection to be harmed. So even if it hurt his dignity he allowed some of the more physical bullies to get a few hits in and ducked his head when he walked through the hallways.
His other classmates saw, but no one chose to speak up for Damian Wayne otherwise known as Bruce Wayne's accident on travel and dirty secret. He was the freak. The weirdo. They knew that if they got involved, even if they didn't agree with it, then they would be targeted.
He never expected anyone to step in whenever his bullies found him.
But then again, he came to learn that Daniel Fenton wasn't just anyone. His friend had a heart of gold with a righteous rage that was hardly contained in his smaller body.
It had been three days since Daniel had been transferred to Gotham Acadamy, during their free period. The youngest Wayne had been minding his own business, eating the vegetarian meal prepared by Alfred and drawing a little in his sketchbook when he was surrounded.
Damian had been pushed up against a wall by the meaty hands of the snickering soccer team. They were gripping his shirt collar and Damian had been preparing for a punch in the face when Daniel had appeared out of nowhere.
"Hands!" Danny had shouted pointing at Derek, the captain of the team with a scowl. He was the one who was going to beat Damian up while his friends held Wayne in place. "That's a penalty kick buddy!"
And then Danny kicked Eric- a teenager who was at least a head taller than him- right between the legs. Danny threw his whole body weight into that kick and the captain proved it by choking out a wheeze and falling to the ground.
Before his friends could react, Danny was upon them swinging his lunch tray like a battering ram.
Needless to say, the rest of the soccer team was not impressed, especially the goalie. They abandoned Damian to fight against Danny, who well seemed like he knew his way in a fight, was nowhere near Damian's level of training.
Good instincts but he lacked a solid foundation.
Danny was able to fight off the seven members of the soccer team (the rest didn't really hang out with them during breaks) but he had a lot of wounds as a result.
"Run dude!" Danny had shouted at him, putting himself between the team and Damian. His lip had been busted, he had a black eye and a nosebleed but Danny didn't seem to care. "I'll hold them off!"
Damian was ashamed to admit that he just stood there in shock at the new transfer's behavior. Daniel....was attempting to rescue him. Why?
He hadn't even known Daniel at the time.
The teachers arrived then, dragging everyone to the principal office where Damian was accused of starting the fight and Danny was threatened with being expelled only three days into his move. The soccer team had been smug, while the principal who Damian believed disliked him for his Middle Eastern Blood, seemed to jump at the fact he could smear Damian's name.
Daniel was on scholarship which did not help his chances at all in a school that had legacies.
His father had been away on a mission, so the school had been forced to phone Richard instead. When his brother arrived the soccer team's parents had been throwing a fit about all the hits Daniel had gotten in.
"Mr. Wayne shouldn't have agitated them and Mr. Fenton jumped in unprovoked. ," The Principal said staring Richard down when his brother had loudly demanded to know what happened.
"But he didn't" Daniel cut in. His guardians hadn't arrived yet and had remained mostly silent by the way. The group of parents and teenagers turn to him. "They were the ones to attack Wayne. I hit them unprovoked though. That part is true. They didn't do anything to me, but I can't stand cowards that attack in groups."
"I guess you have proof of this?" Mrs. Skeel sneered. She was Eric's mother and often brides her son out of problems.
"I have a body cam," Daniel reveals pulling out a miniature camera from his tie. He smiles at the dumbfounded stares his actions cause."Recorded the whole thing."
"Can I see the footage?" Richard requested, which Daniel easily handed over. They played it on the Principal's computer and there the camera shows Daniel sitting in the tree that Damian had chosen to sit under. The video captures Daniel watching him up until the soccer team arrives, and their innocence is proven.
Daniel didn't seem to care that he made enemies with almost everyone in that room as Richard quickly took control of the meeting with the evidence. Damian thinks he may not have to worry too much now that the staff were aware that Waynes would and could cut their funding.
Not only that, but the parents were also weary of angering Father. None of this meant that Daniel was safe so Damian took it upon himself to never let the new student be alone for too long.
As a means to protect him.
It wasn't until he realized two months later that school had gone for a dull meaningless pass time to laughter and enjoyment because of Daniel. They walked to class, they shared notes, they passed notes, they watched videos, Daniel chattered about everything and anything and they sent each other funny memes.
Daniel was vastly different from Damian but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything their differences were what made them so close. Daniel claimed that his two best friends back in his old school were vastly different in interest and personalities too.
He had made a friend.
Daniel was his friend.
A friend who didn't seem to mind when he would go quiet to draw or medicate. A friend who didn't need an explanation or justification for his eating habits. A friend he was able to vent about his troubles to and lend an ear to when Daniel faced his own woes.
A person who laughed at all his dark jokes, regardless of how much death was in them. Someone who seemed almost as... what did Todd call him? Feral? as Damian was.
Damian had chosen to invite Daniel to a sleepover. His very first ever sleepover with people from school- Jon held the crown for being the first friend to have a sleepover with him- and he has been ever so excited.
It's childish for someone of his age to show such anticipation for something so small but he couldn't help himself. Something about Daniel was captivating. Almost otherworldly so.
There was something about him that made all of Damian sense buzz but not in a bad way. He isn't sure what it is, but he is getting tired of Drake's and Richard's knowing smirks.
He detested being left out of the loop.
The doorbell rings. Todd makes the motion to stand up, which would be a disaster. He does not want Daniel- a person who swears in old classic book titles to meet his one brother who adores said books and reads them for fun.
Damian flings himself over the couch, using Todd as board. He ignores the shout of rage that his action causes and the hollaring laughter of the rest of Father's brood.
He clears the door before any of the other Wayne members and breaks out into a run. Just in case any of them got the idea of trying to meet Daniel before Damian can control the situation in which it happenes.
Also, he wanted to see Daniel. Spring break felt like an eternity now that he couldn't see his friend every day. He would like to have met up with him since the break started but Daniel's guardian had planned a trip and they only just returned.
He had yet to meet Daniel's uncle but heard a lot of Mr.Clockwork from the teenager. Damian was still unsure if he liked the man. He seemed far too aloof when it came to Daniel.
"Geez Dami, relax! Your boy toy isn't going anywhere!" Brown cackles
"Give him a big smooch!" Drake adds, his laughter echoing Brown's
I will deal with them later. Damian swears, fixing his hair from where it had fallen out during his run. He checks his reflection in the mirror by the doorway. He wants to look good for his first ever school friend's sleepover.
Damian had picked his best outfit, wearing his favorite jeans and black button-down. He accessorized with silver rings and chains, grateful Jon had been willing to facetime to give him the modern teenager stamp approval.
Once he is satisfied that his appearance is at its utmost best, he opens the door.
"Hi, Dami!" Daniel chirps. He is wearing a faded pair of jeans and a white shirt with a red dot in the middle. It's nowhere near Damian's stylish and well-put-together often, and yet he looks as beautiful as a grace nymph outside the school uniform.
Damian mind goes blank for only a second before he nods. "Daniel.Welcome. This is Wayne Manor. I live here for I am a Wayne."
For I am a Wayne!? Damian thinks to himself in horror unsure why those words hand tumbled out of his mouth. A wave of shame washes over him as Daniel curiously looks around with that pleased little half smile on his lips.
Daniel is always half smiling as if he heard a joke only he was privy to.
"This place is cool!" Daniels says spinning around to face him and missing Father stumbling out of the living room. Damian is unsure why the man had return so soon, as he thought Batman would be off-world for another week at the least with Flash.
His father looked dead on his feet, eyes half open as he walked up to Daniel and yanked him into a hug!?
"Oh," Daniel says pressed up to Father's chest. "Hello?"
"Hi, son." Father mutters. He squints down at his friend with bloodshot eyes. " Did you get smaller Timmy?"
"Father!" Damian shouts outraged while the rest of his so-called siblings come spilling out of the other sitting room.
"Bruce!" Drake shouts a wide grin on his face. "I'm over here."
"Wha-? Then who is this?" Father blinks slowly, one eye closing before the other, as he tilts his head. He has yet to realese Daniel, though his part his friend seems content with the embrace seeing as he had returned the gesture. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.....ten? Do I have ten children?"
"You only have nine" Thomas calls out helpfully. Father nods, then counts again, pointing one finger at the people in the room
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine" He looks down pointing at Daniel. "Ten. Why are there ten of you?"
"That's a son-in-law, old man"
"No. I could have sworn none of my children are married......Dick you're not married are you?"
"Not yet B."
"Jason?"
"Trying to find a finger to put a ring on it Old man."
"Cassandra?"
"No thank you."
"Tim?"
"Ew."
Daniel giggled at Drake's response and Damian felt the sudden urge to bury a knife in Drake's side.
"Steph?"
"Nah."
"Duke?"
"I'm too young B."
"Cullen?"
"I can't even get a date, Bruce"
"Harper?"
"Inability to get dates run in the Row family tree."
Father nodded then. "Good none of my children-"
"What about Dami?" Daniel asks with a wide grin. Both his friend and Father turn to stare at him. Damian suddenly feels himself sweating through his shirt.
"Damian? You aren't married?
"Of course not!" He denies it loudly and faces an unconformable red. Daniel cackles like the devil he is.
Father meanwhile continues to hug Daniel while muttering. "Then where did ten come from? Alfred? Why are there ten children in my house?"
"Master Bruce if you do not let that young man go and go see Dr.Thompkins for that concussion I swear, heads will roll!"
Damian is grateful that once again Alfred seems to be the only one with a brain in this manner.
"I like it here," Daniel proclaims watching the butler drag away his confused father. Damian is utterly unprepared for the look that his friend shoots him from under his eyelashes, and he almost trips over his own two feet as he says. "Show me to your room?"
"I...of course! This way! I live here!" Curses his voice cracked. It ended in a squeak! He, Damian Wayne son of the Bat and Demon, made a fool of himself by squeaking!
"This is better than a daytime tv sitcom." Row- the male one- snickers from the stairway and Damian flips him off as he passes by with Daniel.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#dead serious#Why Ten? au#Bruce was so confused by the tenth person#Danny made a friend#and Damian is experiencing his first-ever crush#The Waynes are watching Damian stumble like they watching a wild animal documentation
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Confession
Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 3.9k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.
Part 1 - Previous part
Miguel chose to give you space and time.
For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum.
Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.
So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.
He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises.
"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.
Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.
His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.
Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.
"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.
"What happened?"
Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.
He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"
This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.
You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.
Oh.
He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.
And that hurt more than any of his wounds.
Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.
And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.
Very amateur of him.
Very unlike him.
And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.
But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.
Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well.
"Let me take a look. Please."
He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse.
"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."
Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.
He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.
But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.
And he gave in, like the fool he was.
"Fine."
You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."
He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.
"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."
He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.
"Hold the bag a bit higher."
Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.
That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.
His sweet girl…
Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.
Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.
"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.
Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.
You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.
Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.
Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."
"Thank you."
He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.
You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."
"What about?"
"Us."
Miguel slowly straightened in his seat.
You had his full attention now.
"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"
He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.
He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.
Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"
Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"
He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him.
It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.
"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"
Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.
A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level?
But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.
"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.
Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.
"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"
You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."
"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."
You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.
Not long after, you nodded.
There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.
But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.
"What about Tom?"
Your eyes widened. "Tom?"
"Yes. How do you feel about him?"
He needed reassurance.
"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."
That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.
You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.
You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.
With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.
The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.
Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.
His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.
There was comfort in this type of silence.
Actions did speak louder than words, after all.
The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.
You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.
He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.
And then you kissed him.
It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.
You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.
"Hard already?"
The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually.
"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.
He would devour you if you allowed him to.
His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.
He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.
Just for you.
His sweet girl.
You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.
Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.
"I'm sorry."
You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"
His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.
He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.
He silently vowed to always do this.
You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.
"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.
Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.
He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.
You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.
For the second time that day, you had come to him.
Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention.
"Hey, you."
Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."
You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.
Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough.
Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.
Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.
You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"
"It's not even enough."
He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.
You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.
Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.
"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.
Then, you took his lips in yours.
This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.
Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands.
You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.
Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.
He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.
The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.
He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?
"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.
Sweet.
Hungry.
His.
He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.
You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.
"Can I tug gently?"
"Please…"
Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.
He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.
You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.
"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."
You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"
You'd look so pretty being marked by him.
He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.
Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child.
You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.
He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.
"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"
He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.
Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.
He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.
"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.
A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"
His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.
"Are you sure?"
You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.
Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.
"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."
You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.
He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.
You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing. It feels really good…"
A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"
He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.
"Lick the tip…"
This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.
He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.
You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.
He immediately pressed his eyes shut.
The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.
You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.
"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"
Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.
"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.
Fuck.
You looked so fucking delicious.
But he needed more.
"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"
You quickly nodded. "I think so."
Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"
You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.
His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.
You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.
"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"
You were so good for him…
He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."
By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.
Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.
He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.
And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.
Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.
"Miguel… why?"
You were pouting again and he nearly lost it.
"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.
You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded right away.
"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."
You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.
"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.
Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.
"Tell me if it gets too much."
"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.
He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.
So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.
His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.
He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.
You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"
Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.
"Miguel… I… please…"
His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.
Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.
More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.
He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.
Come for me, cariño…
You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.
As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.
Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.
His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.
As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.
His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.
By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.
The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.
His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.
"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.
You were panting heavily and could only nod.
Part 8
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader
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Green eyes in the fear fog.
For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.
Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.
The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.
Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.
"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."
"You can do better." she shrugged.
" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.
" Danny, please don't."
"Challenge accepted."
Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.
But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.
If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.
It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.
Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.
The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.
"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.
Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.
" Put the mask on and head for the exit."
"But I need to find Jazz."
"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.
It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.
"Stop! Get away!"
It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.
"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.
If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.
"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"
Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.
"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."
A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.
From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.
He knelt down to Scarecrow.
"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.
He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.
"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.
Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.
"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.
"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."
Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.
"Sorry about the tour too."
"It wasn't all bad."
" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.
" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”
‘Ghosts?’
“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”
“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”
Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#Danny and Jazz visit colleges#Steph is the relucent tour guide#Had a vivid image of Danny emerging from the fog to beat Scarecrow pop into my head it turned into this.#why does my brain get ideas when it is time for me to sleep why?
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Steve always tells people "I love you" before saying bye to them. Maybe it's the years of Upside Down trauma, worrying that these words could be his last. Maybe it's the fact his parents never say it before leaving (if they even bothered to say anything to him at all). Maybe it's because each time his parents were away he thinks that this might be the time they never come back, and he isn't even sure if they love him. Maybe it's due to his years of King Steve, hurting others more than loving.
It doesn't really matter though, the why. What matters is that Steve has made it his mission to always do it before his goodbyes (especially after round three of the Upside Down). Always making sure to even say a quick "Love you! Bye!" as he is rushing out the door.
At first, everyone is a bit put off by it. Especially Nancy who at first thought it was a love confession until Steve turns to Jonathan and says the exact same thing. The kids think he's being gross and mushy, even an exasperated "mommmm" is thrown in his direction every once in and while. Robin is the only one who is receptive to it right away. A soft, "love you too dingus" she says to him, no matter if they are attached to the hip or in a screaming match that day.
Eventually, though, everyone accepts this as Steve's new normal. Gentle smiles, light snorts, and bruising punches (thanks max) are the responses given. But then after round four of the Upside Down, everyone seems to now embrace this part of Steve. Never forgetting to say "I love you too" in return.
Steve's heart comes a little closer to healing each time.
Steve only begins to realize it's a problem though when it comes to Eddie.
Steve finds that Eddie is the only one he has to resist saying it to. See, Steve over the years has become better at providing verbal affection. Note, his "I love you's" had blossomed into "I am proud of you" and "I'm worried about you" and so much more. He has grown out of the years of repressed emotion (well, he was actively learning to at least).
What Steve hasn't gotten better at is touch. Steve yearns for it, craves it in fact, but can't find it in him to reach out. His fear of rejection is too great. And Steve's friends don't really give out touch to those who don't actively seek it.
Eddie though may be the touchiest person he has ever met. It's small stuff at first.
A shoulder brush.
A clap on the back.
A poke in the ribs.
But then it soon turns into bigger stuff.
A boop on the nose.
A tug at his hair.
A goddamn hug from behind.
It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating. Steve can't really tell if it's good or bad for his health. And Steve knows if he asks Eddie to stop he will. Despite his touchy tendencies, the guy understood boundaries. But the problem is that Steve doesn't want him to stop.
The problem is that Eddie's constant physical affection is starting to collide with Steve's need to express verbal affection. The problem is Eddie is starting to fill the rest of the void in his heart. The problem is Steve...
The problem is Steve has to stop himself from expressing his normal "I love you's" because he knows it will mean something different, something more this time. He knows everyone will notice the difference after their years of hearing him say it.
So, Steve never says it to Eddie.
It's no biggie really. Or so Steve thinks until Eddie corners him in the kitchen during one of their game nights.
"Steve, do you...do you have a problem with me?" Eddie asks shyly, staring down at his boots. It was an odd look on him as Eddie was normally larger than life, commanding a room. It hurt Steve to see him like this.
"What? Why would you think that?" Steve asks shocked.
"Not really a no, Harrington." Eddie chuckles darkly, "And don't think I didn't notice but you kinda have a hangup about saying I love you to everyone except me. And ya know, I wouldn't really be offended really if it was cause we haven't known each other very long and ya know, cause I'm a guy. But then, I see you saying it to Argyle. Real easily in fact. And it wouldn't bother me if it was because we weren't close, but Stevie—" Eddie's voice cracks a little, as he slips into his nickname for Steve. Steve knows now, how serious Eddie is being. "—you've gotten to know me better than anyone in this whole stupid state. And that's including Wayne. Hell, you might even be my best friend even though I'm not yours. I'm not delusional I know no one can knock Robin from that spot." Eddie is rambling so hard that he gives Robin a run for her money. Steve thinks for a moment, that the two have been spending too much time together.
Steve stays silent as he walks towards Eddie to stand directly in front of him. Eddie continues without noticing. "Then I worry, it's because maybe. Maybe it's because you found out that I am gay. And that, you had a problem with that. That you have a problem with me." Eddie's voice starts off shaky but then turns into steel as he finishes. He makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Steve, driving his point.
Steve first thinks, wait Eddie's gay? Then Steve processes everything, panics, and loses his filter completely. Throws his worry about losing his best friend (don't tell Robin, but she's his soulmate so she'll forgive him) out the window, and throws his heart on the table instead. "Jesus, no Eds. I—shit. It's not that at all. Like I don't care about that stuff. You know that. I love Robin regardless."
Eddie gives him a look that screams, we both know why it's different. Steve pushes forwards anyway. "And it's not that I don't want to say it to you. It's just, it's different okay. Like with everyone else, I don't have to worry about it being bullshit. And god that sounds bad, but I don't know how else to say it. And I just know if I say it, if I say it you'll just know it's different, and then you'll hate me and it's one thing for the others to not say it back at first, but I think it might kill me if you didn't. And that's not fair to put that pressure on you." God, now Steve could give Robin a run for her money.
"Sweetheart—"
Steve cuts him off, he knows if he doesn't say it now he won't say it all. "God Eddie if you knew how much I cared—if you knew how much I worried every time you leave. If you knew how much I worry about how I don't say it to you when you leave, how I might not ever get to say it, it would terrify you, Eddie. This isn't a normal amount of affection. This is like—what's the word—astronomical amounts of affection. Cause Eddie, it takes everything in me every single time you walk away to not say I. Love. You."
Steve hears it, how he says it. He knows how it's going to sound before it comes out. How it's different. How it's more. Steve closes his eyes in shame.
Eddie's hand cups Steve's cheek. "Baby."
The hush, but the firm tone makes Steve open his eyes. Eddie has gotten so close they are breathing the same air. Steve's heart stutters.
"Baby," Eddie says again, before giving Steve the one affectionate touch he hasn't gotten yet.
A kiss.
A soft, heartstopping kiss. A kiss that has Steve's soul bursting at the seams.
Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, feeling content for the first time in weeks. Knowing this was Eddie's way of saying it back.
Though, the delicate "I love you too." that Eddie whispers against Steve's lips doesn't hurt either.
Not even a little bit.
—
sometimes I set out to write a quick little thing…and sometimes that little thing turns into a big thing. enjoy :)
p.s. I apologize if there are any tense changes, I wrote this at 1 am lol
#steddie#ficlet#say I love you before you go#steddie fanfic#steddie writing#my writing#ao3#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#robin buckley#the party#stranger things#ways to say i love you#physical touch#words of affirmation#love langauges#steve x eddie
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Dark!rafe beats you for cursing out his friends (as you rightfully should!) for making lewd comments about you and rafe does nothing about it, then forces you to apologize to them forcibly holding your face in place to look at them with a bruised face as you tearfully apologize to them. (Sorry if this is too dark but please I’ve been thinking about this for weeks😫🧎🏾♀️)
Apologize.
Warnings: Dark!Rafe, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, domestic violence, manipulation, chocking, misogyny, topper is a weirdo,
Summary: Standing up for yourself isn’t always the best idea.
A/n: Omg my first request!! This was so fun to write and it’s never to dark love!! Hope you enjoy! Also please send more 🙏🏾
Wc: 1.1k
18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
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Rafe had his friends over again, and if you were being honest, you really didn't like them; they supported his coke addiction, they encouraged his drunken fights, and, worst of all, they didn't have respect for you in the slightest.
Topper was the worst; he always made weird comments, borderline creepy.
This time in particular, you were already having a bad day; you had unexpectedly started your period earlier and bled through your favorite pajamas, and you had just dropped your phone, cracking it slightly.
You tuned out most of Rafe and his friend's conversation focused on the music in your left airpod, and scrolled through Instagram.
All you heard was,
“Y/n’s shorts are way too short; I can see her whole ass.” your boyfriend's friend Topper commented, followed by a laugh, causing Kelce to laugh as well.
When you turned to your boyfriend, you hoped he would defend you or at least acknowledge that his friend's comment made you uncomfortable and maybe address it. Still, instead, he didn't say anything.
On a typical day when you weren't already angry, you wouldn't have said anything or ignored him like you always do, but today wasn't a typical day.
“Shut the fuck up, Topper.” You sighed under your breath, causing everyone to stare at you.
“maybe you wouldn't be looking at my ass if you could actually get some.” you finished.
Topper awkwardly laughed in response to your very true statement.
“Someone’s on her period,” Kelce said in a sarcastic tone that irritated you even more than his comment.
You got up from the couch and stormed upstairs; you fucking hated Rafe's friends, you hated that he made you guys all hang out, and what you hated the most was that Rafe never stood up for you.
You went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you; you didn't notice how much this situation upset you until you looked in the mirror. Tears of anger were threatening to spill as you went to grab a tissue to wipe your tears; the bathroom door flew open.
“What are you slamming doors for?” Rafe questioned you, closing the door behind himself and trapping you both in.
“Did you not hear what Topper said to me?” you asked in a shaky tone, still angry about it. “Why do you let him talk to me like that?” you continued.
Rafe nodded in response to your words; it was hard to ignore the evident smirk on his face.
Did he think this was funny?
The blonde took slow steps towards you.
“Well, he was right..”
You couldn't believe your ears, but at the same time, you could; sometimes, it seemed like Rafe intentionally hurt you, and sometimes it seemed like he was a bully rather than your boyfriend.
“When you clearly dress like a slut, someone is gonna mention it…” he trailed off.
You were so shocked and furious at his words that you didn't realize how close he was to you until he roughly grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look him directly into his eyes.
“Now, you're going to go back downstairs..” the blonde continued.
You shook your head no in response, pulling your face out of his harsh grip.
He immediately reached back; this time, his grip was rougher and harsher, leaving you with more than just physical discomfort. You were in pain.
“Listen to me, y/n!” his tone was just as harsh as his grip, showing his anger. “You're going downstairs and apologizing to Topper for your disrespect and language.” he finished, looking directly into your tearful eyes, waiting for a response.
“I'm not apologizing; he's been disrespectful to me ever since we started dating.” you tearfully defended yourself.
“My girlfriend is out here telling my friends to ‘Shut the fuck up.’” Rafe said in disbelief; his grip was getting tighter the more he spoke.
“How does that make me look? Huh?!” he shouted, removing his grip from your chin to push you roughly against the bathroom wall, causing your back to slam against it.
“Like I can't control my fucking girlfriend?”
His hands made their way to your neck, wrapping around it like you meant nothing to him; his eyes weren't their everyday shade of blue; they were dark, and his face was entirely even as he stared into your bloodshot eyes.
Your hands immediately found his, trying your best to pry his hands off of your throat, but his grip was tight; you couldn't breathe, you could barely think, and all you could do was look back into his eyes and regret ever biting back at topper.
Rafe held you there, staring intensely into your eyes while choking you for about 45 seconds in complete silence; he wanted you to think; he wanted you to regret this; he wanted you to learn your lesson.
When he eventually let go, you fell to the floor and gasped for air.
Your boyfriend bent down to your level and roughly grabbed your chin again, desperate for eye contact.
“I don't like you hurt you, y/n..” he expressed as if he deserved a reward.
“But you make me.” the tall blonde stated before letting go of your chin and standing up straight.
“Get up,” he said in a calm tone, way too quiet for this situation, and when you didn't listen, he roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.
“Now…You're going downstairs and apologizing to Topper for your disrespect and language.” the blonde said slowly, explaining the steps as if you were stupid.
Your pride told you not to, but you knew Rafe wouldn't let this go, so you tearfully nodded, accepting defeat.
As you walked downstairs side to side with Rafe, you knew they probably heard all the banging and muffled yelling; you were embarrassed, not only by the fact you had to apologize but by the fact these people knew you were staying with a man who treated you like shit.
“I-im sorry, Topper…” you said, looking down at your feet; you couldn't bring yourself to look at him in this state; you looked a mess from all the tears and trauma.
Rafe clearly didn't like this; he gripped your chin again, this time not as roughly, forcing you to make eye contact with Topper.
“For what?” Rafe whispers into your ear. His voice was quiet, but his tone was sharp.
“I'm sorry for being disrespectful and my language.” you couldn't stop the tears from continuing to fall; you felt humiliated, but undoubtedly, that was the point.
“Dude…. What on her neck? Topper questioned, looking at Rafe and then back at you; he didn't acknowledge your apologies; instead, he squinted, trying to make out the marks around your neck.
“She fell,” Rafe stated before letting go of you and returning to his friends on the couch.
He wasn't wrong; you did fall, you fell into his trap.
#dark!rafe cameron#dark rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#dark!rafe cameron x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#outer banks fanfiction
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more physical therapy au
--
Dream comes to his next physical therapy appointment marginally--marginally--less apprehensive than before. When he'd first gone, he'd expected to be told he was being melodramatic. That he should just be grateful that the surgery was successful and he has some functioning. That he should just give up on his art, that it didn't matter, that it was hopeless.
He doesn't know why he thought that. It's been hard to have a charitable view of people, lately.
But Hob wasn't like what he feared. Hob was... kind. To him.
So he goes back.
He has, in fact, been doing the exercises that Hob gave him. It is not as though he has much else to do with his time. Other than setting up his new flat, where he now lives after fleeing what had once been his home. Even a few months later, the place is fairly... minimalist. Which is not Dream's style. But he'd left with little more than his art portfolio and the clothes he was wearing, deciding that it wasn't worth going back, and he hasn't had the energy to replace anything since.
Or the two functioning arms required to move things.
His flat is depressing enough that even the physical therapy office feels warm and welcoming by comparison. Hob gives him a big smile as he comes in. It's pathetic that it makes his heart flutter.
He goes over to Hob, setting the folder he brought on the table.
"You look cheerful," Hob notes. Dream highly, highly doubts that. But he is perhaps slightly less morose than last time. Nevertheless, he finds Hob's optimism... somewhat cheering. Normally, he would find such a thing annoying. But there is something very steady and reassuring about Hob. Not much in Dream's life has felt steady in some time.
"I have tried finger painting," Dream tells him. He takes the piece out of the folder and shows it to Hob.
It had been interesting, at least. Distracted him for a moment. Made him think about the way children make art, before becoming mired in theory and technique.
He had considered bringing one of his usual pieces to demonstrate to Hob what he's meant to be able to do, in case that would be helpful, but it's still painful to look at them.
Hob takes the painting and stares at it with wide eyes. "How is this actually good?"
Dream should probably be offended by his incredulity but instead he just finds it amusing. "I had lots of time to spend."
He has, once again, painted a bunch of cats, all different colors, cluttering the page. It's simple, and lets him avoid thinking about his more conceptual pieces he hasn't been able to work on.
"Wow," Hob says, propping the painting carefully against the wall by his computer. "Okay. Good work going above and beyond on the instructions, Dream."
That praise alone shouldn't make something in his chest start glowing. But it does.
"It did not hurt... much," he says tentatively, before Hob can ask. "However, with a brush..."
It is incredibly frustrating. It's like his body continually wishes to betray him. He's lost his home and everything he owns and now he cannot even have his art.
"Give it some time," Hob says, reasonably. He is much more patient, and optimistic, than Dream.
He makes Dream draw and write again. It's... perhaps marginally easier after the exercises Hob had given him. Still, he finds himself getting frustrated by the weakness of his grip. And the more frustrated he gets, the tighter he grips the pencil. He knows he shouldn't. But.
"Lighter," Hob tells him, and Dream glares at him. Hob raises his hands. "Not telling you how to do your art. Just telling you how not to hurt your hand."
Dream bites down on his annoyance, but loosens his grip.
He doesn't see very much progress, but Hob seems satisfied. He makes Dream run through some other strengthening exercises, which... don't hurt as much as Dream was expecting them to. He'd expected that this whole process would be nothing but gritting his teeth through agonizing pain, to minimal results. Perhaps Death is right, and he should be less pessimistic.
In any case, Hob seems proud of him at the end. Even if Dream doesn't think he's done anything to be proud of.
But he does leave, perhaps, slightly more hopeful than he entered. And he wants to come back. At least to see Hob again.
~~
Hob doesn't know if it's patronizing to be proud of Dream, but he is. Over the last few sessions, his grip has improved a lot. Dream doesn't seem to see it, but that's alright. Hob does. He's been keeping all of Dream's drawings. They are getting better.
Hob is pretty good at optimism. But even so, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that quiet and morose wasn't Dream's natural state. That is until he sees the joy that lights up in him the first time he's able to draw a cat without his hand shaking. Dream smiles so wide, like he isn't even aware Hob is still watching him, and Hob realizes that there is lightness to him. It's just been buried down.
The time after that, Dream even brings some of his old art to show. Hob's been dying to see it for ages, but hasn't pressed. And Dream's art is gorgeous. Hob can understand, now, why he'd been dissatisfied with those first cats he'd drawn, no matter how charming Hob had found them. His big pieces are so finely detailed, so precise. It's... possibly going to take a bit more time to get him back to that than Hob had thought. But he's determined.
But Dream seems happy to be sharing his art, doesn't fold in on himself this time just to mention it. He talks with enthusiasm about his process, the most words Hob's heard him say in... well, ever. Hob tells him that he's made enough progress to pick up painting--with brush, not fingers--again if he wants, but not to beat himself up if it doesn't look the same as his old ones. And for once, it seems like Dream actually accepts the instruction not to berate himself.
All of this is, most certainly, the reason Hob does the insane thing he does next.
He's organizing his records, having already walked Dream out, when he hears raised voices from out on the walkway. The front door is still open a crack, he realizes, so the sound carries.
"Come on, you're overreacting," says an unfamiliar, male voice. "I said I won't do it again, didn't I?"
"Do not," Dream replies, voice anxious, but determined, "follow me."
"Well if you'd just pick up your phone--"
Hob steps outside. An unfamiliar man--the ex-boyfriend, Hob assumes, he doesn't know his name, hasn't asked, doesn't care--has Dream cornered in the doorway. His posture doesn't immediately scream rage or aggression, which is more unnerving rather than less, considering this is the same person who'd snapped and broken Dream's hand.
And Dream looks scared. Under the mask of stoicism he likes to wear. Any cheer or hope he'd gained from today's session has evaporated, and he looks like he did before, when he'd first come to Hob's office, curled in on himself. It breaks Hob's heart. And makes him angry.
"Stop being selfish and just--" the ex-boyfriend continues. Hob means to cut in and diffuse the situation. Tell him to leave in a reasonably professional manner.
Instead he punches him in the face.
Ex-boyfriend's nose goes crunch in an extremely satisfying way, and he reels back with a shriek, hands going to his face. Dream startles back, hands clutched around his art portfolio.
"What the FUCK!" yells ex-boyfriend, voice nasally from the blood running down his face. "You can't just-- this is assault! I'll call the cops!"
Oh he wants to go there, does he? "You wanna talk about assault?" Hob says, voice rising in volume. Dream edges behind him, though Hob's not sure he's fully aware he's doing so. "You want to get police involved, that's really what you want?"
Ex-boyfriend looks from Hob to Dream and back, hesitating. That's fucking right, Hob thinks. Not so easy to kick someone around when there's consequences, huh?
It helps that Hob is visibly stronger than Dream, and spends all day physically moving people around. If ex-boyfriend tries anything he's going to get put on the ground.
Finally he retreats, though with a look of rage towards Hob. Once he's gone, Dream finally seems to relax, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.
"You did not need to," he murmurs.
Hob shakes his head. "No one gets to come and threaten you here. Particularly not that dickhead."
Dream huffs a small laugh. Then he picks up Hob's hand, studying it. Hob winces. It's certainly going to bruise.
"Now you will need physical therapy," Dream says, lips twitching. Hob's glad for the humor in his voice.
Hob laughs. "Worth it."
"No one has..." Dream starts, slowly, "done something like that. For me."
It hurts, to think that no one's stood up for him. Or even let him know that someone should stand up for him.
"If he comes back I'll do it again," Hob says, and gets a tentative smile from Dream.
Then asks, "Does he know where you live?"
Dream frowns. "I do not think so."
"Want me to walk you home?"
He doubts Dream's ex-boyfriend will come back to the office now that he knows Hob's willing to deck him, but that doesn't mean he won't try to corner Dream elsewhere.
Dream deliberates, then says, "Would you?"
"'Course, love. Just let me lock the place up."
He doesn't realize what he's said until he's already turned back to lock the door. Shit. Today has already gone so far beyond what he's supposed to do as Dream's physical therapist, and now...
In the end, Dream doesn't call him out on it. But he does stick close to Hob's side as they walk, and occasionally when Hob looks over at him, he catches a tiny smile on his face.
#this is so sappy oh my god#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#my writing#cw abuse#physical therapy fic#long post
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Pairing : Dad!Han Jisung x F!Reader
TW : first half angst ; reader is pregnant ; Ji is kind of an a-hole ; he fixes himself ; time jump for the second half ; ji and readers daughter is 5 ; Ji is still an a-hole ; angst ; happy ending though ;
Word Count : 6.5k
Request : Anonny : Can you please write an angst with a fluffy ending on hannie - where y/n surprises him that shez pregnant(w a daughter)but he lashes out at her harshly and says he doesn't want the baby bcz of his tiring and exhausting schedule - but realises his mistake sooner and apologizes her and even takes care of her during her pregnancy and even his precious daughter once she's born ,
And one mor fic of angst w a fluffy ending on hannie - where he lashes out at his 5 y/o daughter and y/n as they asked him to spend more time with him ,and especially on his daughter's bday and he didn't even remember her daughters bday and said all the possible harsh things like way too harsh things to them on his daughters bday - but later the same he realises it's his daughters bday and regrets immediately and Apologizes to both yn and his daughter and even surprises his precious daughter lately on her birthday
A/N : I'm combining these two!! It'll be a famous Nana time jump for this one so I can pair them together in one fic. I changed the request just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anonny. ALSO! I think I got the job!! That also means that I'll be working overnights (graveyard shift), but I'll actually be respected and treated fairly so... I'm really happy. I'll be able to get the hours that I need to pay my bills as well. I won't be able to write as much, but I promise I will write when I get the chance to.
Were you and Jisung together? Of course you were, he was the love of your life, and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a single day that went by when you weren’t able to happily say he was yours. Ji made you laugh, he made you laugh to the point where your stomach hurt and your eyes filled with tears and you were doubled over wheezing and gasping for breath. Ji made your heart feel full, so full that there was no more room in your chest for it to grow anymore. He made you feel loved in a way that was so magical, so dreamlike, it was like living in your own fairytale except it was all real, and every morning you got to wake up and know that he was yours and you were his.
Were you and Jisung together though? No, very rarely. His job kept him away from you more often than not, and while the moments that the two of you were able to physically be together were… well, dreamlike, a lot of the time, most of the time, your interactions were kept to phone calls and late night texts or video calls. You tried to be supportive, you didn’t complain as much as most people probably would, although there were many times when you wanted to just break down and beg him to put you before his job at least once a month. But you didn’t, you’d put on a smile as you hugged him and kissed him goodbye after one of those rare nights when he would be able to come over and spend the night.
He spent most of his time at the dorms with the other guys, and while he’d try to invite you over there, you’d always kindly decline. As much as you loved the guys and looked at them as brothers, you wanted to be able to spend time with Ji alone, and to you it seemed like he’d rather be around them than to be around you sometimes. You wished that he’d grow up a little, prioritize the relationship, and it seemed less like a wish and more like a need now. It only took one rare night that he spent the night for you to get the most life changing news of… well… your life.
///
“Can you… Can you hear me?” You asked into your phone, the mind numbing sound of static coming through the speaker was headache inducing, but you really needed to talk to him.
“Yeah… Kind of… Shit, this reception is really bad. Can you just text me, baby?” His voice came through choppy and muffled, it sounded like he was underwater, and while you knew that it would be best to text him considering the way the phone call was going, this wasn’t really something that you wanted to tell him over text. You wanted to hear his reaction, and while it would have definitely been better to tell him in person, he was currently on tour and you knew that by the time he got back, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.
“I really need to talk to you…” You said, rushing out the front door to stand on the porch, hoping that the service would be better now that you were outside. “Can you hear me now?” You asked, and you heard him hum in agreement, and while you should have felt better that this moment wasn’t stalled any longer, your stomach began to twist into knots and although the mid-February wind was whipping around you, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck.
“You okay, baby? What’dya need to talk about?” His voice filled the silence, and you knew that he didn’t have much time before he had to go back to work. He wasn’t rushing you, but you felt rushed, you didn’t want to wait forever to tell him, and you thought that maybe the news would brighten his day and lift his mood that had already peaked. He was so sweet, so gentle, and he had often talked about one day having a little baby Ji to follow in his footsteps, you were certain that his reaction would be nothing but positive.
“I’m pregnant, Ji…” You whispered, and there was no question as to whether he heard you. The sound of a gasp, and then loud coughing, and then silence. Had he muted his phone so he could celebrate with the guys? “Babe? You still there?” You asked, trying not to get overly excited yourself. You wanted to save your own celebration for when he came back home and you both could be together to share in the excitement of such big news.
“No. I… Look, I need some time to think about this because… You just… Do you even know what I’m doing right now? I’m about to do a show and you think I needed to hear that before I go on stage? As if things aren’t stressful enough for me… I don’t… I don’t want a damn kid right now!” Had you set your expectations too high? This was most definitely not the way you thought that the announcement would turn out, and this wasn’t the way you thought he’d be. It was so shocking that you were stunned into silence, frozen like a statue on the front porch. “I don’t want it. That’s it… That’s all I have to say. Figure something out because this isn’t going to work. I have to go.”
And he did. He hung up, leaving you with so many thoughts, but none of them stuck long enough to really form into anything more. What the hell did he expect you to do? You were already 3 months along, it’s not like you were just going to get rid of the baby because he decided that he didn’t want it. That did change things though, it changed a lot of things. You weren’t sure what you were going to do right at that very second, but you had a lot to figure out before he came back from tour.
~
After the concert, after all of the stress of the show wore off, he was able to really think. He thought about the phone call, he thought about what he said, and he was immediately hit with a wave of regret. He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking when he said it, he didn’t know what came over him, and the only reason he could truly come up with was the stress. It was the damndest thing, because he truthfully wouldn’t mind being a father, especially knowing that someone as amazing and caring and loving as you would be the mother to his child.
That’s why he tried to get in touch with you, calling your phone repeatedly until he came to the stomach turning conclusion that you just weren’t going to answer him. That didn’t stop him from calling once more to leave a message though. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I love you so damn much, and I’m happy, I really am. I do want the baby, I want this, I do. Please, don’t think about what I said, I wish I could just take it all back, I wish I could make you forget that I was stupid enough to say something like that. I hope you’re sleeping and when you wake up, just call me, please call me, baby. I need to hear your voice, I need to know that we’re going to be okay. I love you.”
The call was promptly ended before he fell back onto the hotel bed. It was strange how he had been able to sleep by himself in the dorms for so many nights, he was able to fall asleep without you, but now that he knew that you were carrying his child, now that he knew how much he had fucked up, he couldn’t seem to sleep at all, and he wanted nothing more than to be right beside you, holding you.
He was restless, he couldn’t even close his eyes to try to get some sleep, and he knew that there was no way he’d be able to perform the following night, not unless he knew everything was okay back at home. So he didn’t sleep, instead he got online and started looking up tickets for the next flight that would take him home to you. How was he even supposed to perform when his mind was running rampant with thoughts of you leaving him? He couldn’t do anything with those thoughts plaguing him.
So he bought the ticket, a red eye flight that he’d hopefully be able to get a little bit of shut eye on before he landed. He didn’t just need to sleep, he needed to think of what he’d say once he got back home to you. He was sure that the guys would understand. Or maybe they wouldn’t… He’d apologize to them for leaving on such short notice, and he’d make sure to come up with some elaborate excuse for the fans as to why he wasn’t there.
He knew that he wasn’t the best at prioritizing the most important things, at least not what most people would consider important. He had spent so many years of his life working towards this dream of becoming a famous idol, and even when he achieved that dream, he just couldn’t stop. Even when you had entered his life and made the world seem so much brighter, he had foolishly continued to choose his career, and you had, amazingly enough, still decided to stand beside him and put up with his shit. He had to show you that you were important, not just you now though, but this baby, this child who had come as a surprise, but he made a mental note and a promise to himself to love this child, his child, regardless of anything that happened.
///
You stood in the kitchen, a cup of coffee held tightly in your hands as you overlooked the city just outside your window. You tried not to think about what he had said, you wanted to have a decent morning, well, evening… It was already 1 in the afternoon. When you woke up there had been so many calls from him, but only one voicemail that you were far too scared to listen to. You knew that he was angry, he was pissed, and you didn’t want him to go off on you again, even if it were only through a recording. You still had to figure out what to do though, it didn’t seem like there was much in regards to options. You weren’t going to get rid of the baby, and as much as you loved Jisung, the life that was now growing inside of you was far more important than a relationship that was clearly one sided.
The birds chirping just outside your window had captured your attention fully, the sounds of the city which had seemed so loud before were now almost calming, but that calm was soon disrupted by the sound of the lock being undone on your front door. You whipped around just in time to see Jisung standing in the doorway, disheveled and slightly frazzled as he dropped his bags to the floor. “What are you doing here?” You asked, refusing to move any closer to him. “Thought you had a tour to worry about?”
His head shook and his bottom lip jutted out, shaky breaths had him trembling where he stood just as still as you had been on the front porch just yesterday. “The tour isn’t more important than you. It’s not more important than our family… our baby…” He whispered, his voice shaking just as much as his body was. “I was an idiot, an overly stressed out idiot… But I didn’t mean it. D-Did you listen to the message?”
You rolled your eyes, trying not to pay too much attention to how sad he was and just how much it pulled at your heartstrings to see him that way. You just had a soft spot for him, and you were sure that that would never go away, or, at the least, take a while to fade. You had to be strong though, and even if what he said was true, you had to let him know how much you had been hurt by what he said before. “No… I didn’t. I think you said enough, and I didn’t really want to listen to your voice again, not any time soon.” It was a lie, you loved his voice, you didn’t want to go a day without hearing it, but watching the way his face crumpled, you could tell that your words really hit him.
“That’s fair…” He whispered, a loud sniffle coming from across the room. “You don’t have to listen to it… I’ll say it now. I love you… and I love the little baby that we made together… And I’m sorry I was a dick. I don’t want to lose you, not because I was stupid and stressed out. I don’t want to lose you at all, ever.” Now his words were hitting you, although you were definitely going to blame the fresh tears that were streaming down your face on the raging hormones that were currently coursing through your body. “Don’t cry… Please don’t cry, I’ll cry too.”
“You’re already crying though…” You whimpered out, a small sob mixed with a giggle. It felt so nice to laugh, but it felt even better to laugh with him. You wanted to put it in the past, not forget it, but right now you just wanted to move on. “Do you have to go back? I don’t want you to get in trouble for missing the shows…”
His shoes had already been kicked off, making his way now over to where you stood in the kitchen, his hands cupping your face and his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I’m staying here… Where I belong. Changbin or Hyunjin can cover my parts. I want to be here with you, and that’s where I’m going to be. No more crying, I want to hear all about how you’re feeling, I want to be here for you.”
///
The next months of your pregnancy were strange. It was like they were going too fast, but they also weren’t going fast enough. You loved being pregnant, but you weren’t a big fan of all the attention you were getting. It was one thing for it to be coming from Ji, but it was like everyone gravitated towards you, or… Moreso, your bump that everyone seemed to want to touch and ogle over like they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.
Jisung was too kind to tell anyone to really back away from you, and you didn’t know half of the people that would swarm around you wherever you went, but it was exhausting to deal with them. You knew that Jisung meant well though, and you could tell that he was proud to be a soon-to-be father, you could just feel the pride radiating off of him whenever he talked about it.
His proudest moment to date though, was when he found out you were having a girl, that you were carrying his daughter. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he looked on in awe at the sonogram screen. You had to practically snap him back to reality that day, his head stuck in the clouds, daydreaming about the day his daughter would be born, the day he’d finally get to hold her and see her. He had told you all about it in the car on the way home.
From that day forward, as if he wasn’t already like your shadow, he practically became glued to your hip. You love him, you really do, but it became annoying, not that you’d tell him that. You couldn’t do anything without him being right there beside you just to do it for you. You appreciated the help, but it’s not like you were on bed rest, you could still do things on your own. You couldn’t blame anyone for him being so protective, the only thing you could blame was the internet. He had been looking up what changes your body went through during the many weeks of your pregnancy, and he happened to stumble across the complications that could occur as well. That’s when you got your very panicked, very helpful, and slightly irritating Jisung.
By the time you reached the third trimester though, you were so exhausted and your back ached so badly that you didn’t even mind it anymore. He had managed to get the rest of the guys in on helping you too, especially if he was in the studio for a long period of time- which was anything longer than 45 minutes -he’d have one of them check up on you and see if you needed anything.
When he was home or when he got home, he’d shower you in attention and affection, kissing you first before pressing a kiss to your stomach and asking how your day has been, although his gaze would be focused solely on your stomach, absolutely mesmerized by the way your stomach looked when his daughter would move. He loved the way she reacted to his voice, you on the other hand could never get comfortable, although you once again, would never tell him that. He just looked so happy, and he’d get so excited, telling everyone how his baby girl recognized his voice and would move whenever she heard him.
Of course, she decided to stay in for a little longer than the expected 40 weeks, and by the 41st week you were begging the doctors to induce you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to use the bathroom or take a shower without Jisung being right outside the door asking if you were okay or if you needed help every 5 seconds. He really did mean well, but you couldn’t wait for your daughter to be out so that you’d be able to not only get some peace, but also some privacy where you needed it most.
It was all worth it though when you saw Jisungs face light up at the sight of his daughter when she was born. Tears of joy streamed down his face as his hands seemed to automatically reach out for her, his lips formed into a circle, absolutely amazed at the fact that this, not so little, baby just came from you. If there had been nothing else to prove to you how good of a father he would be, this moment, the moment she was placed into his arms and you could just see it in his face, his entire world was complete now… He was going to be the best father.
///
5 years seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and the little baby girl that would once curl up in yours and Jisungs arms to fall asleep, your little cuddle bug, was now a ball of energy that would whip around the house being the biggest goofball, much like her father, to bring a smile to people's faces. She was the life and the light of any room she went into, but at night, when she’s run out all of her energy and she’s tuckered out, you and Ji will catch a glimpse of your little baby girl, curled up in the middle of his and your bed.
She was more energetic than usual, but that’s because it was her birthday. Her party wouldn’t be until the weekend, but you still wanted to do a little something special to celebrate the official day. Jisung had to work, but he didn’t want to get stuck at the office so he decided to work from home so he could just pack up his laptop and not deal with the commute, he’d be right at home with you and Jisoo when he was done.
It was hard to keep her occupied, she was so excited and she knew she had presents to open, and you were trying to not only prepare her favorite dinner but also make cupcakes for her. There was so much to do, and you were doing it all on your own so that Ji could work. You were one person, you only had 2 eyes, although a lot of people joke and say that mothers have eyes on the backs of their heads, it seemed like those eyes were focused on the timer on the oven to make sure the cupcakes didn’t burn. That’s why you didn’t realize that she had, at some point, strolled into Jisungs makeshift office/studio.
“Daddy.” She said, standing right beside him, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie to try to get his attention. Her smile was wide, two little dimples adorning both of her cheeks as she looked up at him with the brightest eyes. He sighed harshly through his nose, pulling out one of his earphones to look down at her. “You coming now?” She was completely oblivious to the glare that her father was wearing, or at least, she was oblivious to the fact that it was directed entirely towards her.
“I’m really busy right now, go bother your mother or something.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he tried to turn his attention back to his computer, but Jisoo wasn’t going to allow it. She tugged on his sleeve again, her mouth open to say something else, but Jisung spoke before she could. “Get out. You’re such a burden sometimes, Jesus Christ!” He seethed, his head falling back as he let out a loud groan.
Jisoo wasn’t oblivious anymore, no, she was heartbroken, and quite honestly confused. She quickly scurried away from him, sniffling softly as she ran out of the room. Neither you or Jisung had ever yelled at her, let alone raised your voices around her. She was shocked, she was devastated, and she immediately ran to you.
“What’s wrong, honey?” You dropped everything you had been doing to scoop her up and set her on the counter top, working quickly to wipe away the tears that poured down her puffy little cheeks. Your immediate worry was that she had hurt herself, your eyes scanning over her head, her face, her arms, and her legs to look for any visible signs of scrapes or bruises, but there were none. “Did you get a booboo?”
Her head shook quickly, her hair whipping around her face as she did before dropping her head. She looked embarrassed, and if she had known the word and what it meant at her age, she’d tell you that that’s exactly how she felt. “I try to tell Daddy that it my birthday…” She started, her sentences broken up by shaky breaths and loud sniffles. “He yell at me… told me get out… He say I a bird hen… I not even know what that means…”
She might not know what it meant, but you sure as hell knew what he meant, and you were pissed. “You’re not a bird hen, honey. You’re wonderful, and I know that daddy didn’t mean to yell. He just gets lost in his computer sometimes. He loves you though, and mommy loves you too.” You pressed a big, wet kiss to her forehead, trying and succeeding in getting her to giggle so that you could get her mind off of being upset. “How about you go play with your dolls in your room so that I can decorate your cupcakes and they’ll be a surprise. How’s that sound, huh?”
Jisoos smile was back once more, her hands clapping together as you helped her off the counter. You watched her run to her room, her door being shut fast, and rather loud, in her hurry to let you start on her surprise. Truth be told, you just didn’t want her to listen to you talking to Jisung, not just because you didn’t want her to think about it again, but also because the language you were planning on using wasn’t going to be kid friendly at all.
It took everything in you not to just storm into the room and start yelling, but you knew that would draw her attention, so you walked in as calmly as possible, even though it felt like your blood was boiling. He only made things worse for himself when he let out a sound of annoyance, yanking his earphones out and slamming his hands on his desk. “Oh my god! Wh-”
“You shut the fuck up and you listen to me you son of a bitch.” You hissed the words through clenched teeth, taking one look behind yourself to make sure Jisoo hadn’t come out of her room before storming over to him, your finger pointed and only an inch from his face. “If you ever make my baby cry like that again, I will personally pack all your shit up and throw you out of this fucking house, you hear me?”
The momentary shock wore off almost instantly, and he was quickly defensive, although he did back away just a little before he spoke. “You knew I was working. I thought you were going to watch her, but I guess I was wrong about that. I should have just gone into the office today, I would be able to get shit done.”
The fire that was burning inside you, pure rage that had your blood bubbling, it was like it had built up to the top of your body, completely blinding you with rage and all you could see was red as you slammed his laptop shut before picking it up and shoving it against his chest. “Then go to the fucking office, Jisung! Nobody wants you here anyway!” You shouted, your chest rising and falling heavily with each breath that you took.
“Fine! I’ll be able to actually get something done! Don’t expect me to come home tonight either, I’m not gonna get yelled at because I’m trying to do my job so I can afford everything that you and Jisoo want!” He yelled right back at you, pushing himself up out of the desk chair and grabbing the rest of his things off of the desk. There had never been a time, up until now, that you had ever wanted to hit him, but your hands were twitching, your entire body was shaking. You wanted to hurt him, not because of the way he was talking to you though, it was the complete sense of disregard that he had for his own daughter. It made you physically sick.
“I don’t want you to come back tonight. I don’t want you to come back at all. But you will go tell your daughter that you’re not going to be here to celebrate her birthday with her, and you’re going to be honest and tell her that your job is once again more important than her.” You hissed, finally taking a step back before motioning to the door with your hand. “Now get the fuck out.” He didn’t move though, he was completely frozen and all of the color drained from his face.
“Fuck… Baby, listen-”
“I said get out! Go! Do your job! Leave!” You were shouting once again, and you hated that you cried when you got angry, it made you feel weak, especially when your voice would crack and break when you were trying to sound strong. He continued to stand there though, looking absolutely defeated. “Please… Just leave… It’s obvious, work will always be more important to you. It’s like deja vu.”
“That’s not true at-”
“Mommy…” Jisoos voice came from behind you, and you quickly turned around to face her, trying to force yourself to smile. She wasn’t blind though, she could see that you were crying, and she had heard you and Jisung arguing. She quickly ran to you, her little arms wrapping around your waist. “Don’t cry… It okay. We have cupcakes… I help you make them and… And you help me blow the candles.”
You nodded your head as you picked her up, holding her tightly against your chest. There was nothing more comforting than the hug of your own child, to know that they care, and even on a day that should have been all her own, she was still looking out for you.
“We’ll have lots of fun.” You agreed, your throat tightening up and almost choking off your words. “When we finish making the cupcakes and after we eat your yummy dinner, you can open your presents.” It was so hard to look, let alone sound like everything was completely fine, especially when Jisung was still standing there in front of you, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Does… Does daddy still have to do work?” Jisoo asked, glancing up at you and then looking over her shoulder at Jisung. Of course you wanted to say yes, you were absolutely livid, you wanted him out of the house at least long enough for you to have the chance to cool down, but you also didn’t want to send him away, especially if Jisoo still wanted him there. “I sorry I a bird hen, I not come in no more when you working.” With every word that she said, Jisung looked more and more ashamed, his head dropping lower and lower until you couldn’t even see his face anymore. “Please… Stay home. It my birthday… We gonna sing the song… And we eat cupcakes. That make everyone happy.”
Regardless of how you felt, how pissed off you truly were, it was Jisoos birthday, and if she wanted her father there, you weren’t going to still make him leave. Jisung knew this, and while it was a small win that his daughter still wanted him around, he also knew that he had a lot of apologizing to do, not just to Jisoo, but to you as well. “You’re not a bird hen, honey pot.” He murmured, squatting down so that he’d be eye level with her. “I’m a big ol’ dummy head and I’m sorry that I made you sad. Can I have a hug?” His arms stretched out as he asked the question, and as if he hadn’t hurt her feelings at all, she ran into his arms, almost knocking him onto his butt in the process. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna help momma make sure you have the best birthday ever, okay?”
He was really trying his best, he helped you and Jisoo decorate the cupcakes, he even attempted to help you finish making dinner. There was tension there between the two of you, words that had gone unsaid due to Jisoos perfectly timed interruption, but she was none the wiser to the feeling, she was just happy that the both of you were still there to celebrate with her. That’s what was most important anyway, making sure your daughter was happy.
“Hey honey, you wanna see something funny?” Jisung asked, and the little nickname had both you and Jisoo giving him your attention, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him at all. His finger was covered in icing that he had swiped off one of the cupcakes at the center of the table, and he was slowly creeping over to the kitchen where you were plating up dinner for the three of you. “I think momma would look super cute if her nose was bright pink, don’t you, honey?”
Jisoo was laughing already, clapping her hands together as she shouted out her agreement to his question. “Ji…” You warned, trying to retreat from him, but he was closing in fast and there wasn’t much room for escape. “Don’t do it…” You tried to sound stern, but your daughter's twinkling giggles had you cracking a smile, and before you knew it, you were cornered against the counter and Jisung whose finger was inches from your nose.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it off.” He whispered, winking at you playfully, and if you weren’t still harboring irritation from the way he had acted earlier, the action would have had butterflies swarming in your stomach. “Boop!” He chimed as he wiped the icing on the tip of your nose, laughing along with Jisoo now as she ran over to look at you.
“Momma look like a clown!” She said between fits of giggles, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her and Jisung. You loved seeing your daughter happy, it had become your main goal in life, your number one priority, to make sure she was always happy, and if looking like a clown made her smile and laugh the way she was, then you’d dress up like a clown every day for her.
“She’s the prettiest clown, isn’t she?” Jisung asked, and Jisoo nodded in agreement. “But we can’t have clowns at the dinner table, can we?” And the question had your daughter giggling even louder as she shook her head no. “Grab me a paper towel real quick, honey. Let me help momma clean off the clown nose.” He watched her long enough to make sure her back was turned before he cupped your cheeks, playfully licking the icing off your nose and then pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m the biggest clown, and I’m sorry… Thank you for letting me stay… I love you so much.” It all happened extremely fast, his words being rushed out, it felt like he was going 60 miles per hour, and by the time he had finished what he had to say, Jisoo was just heading over with the paper towel sheet and your face was still scrunched up.
“Where momma nose go?” Jisoo asked as she handed Jisung the paper towel, her head tilted curiously to the side.
“I think it just fell off. It’s okay though. Momma is still pretty. I got the two prettiest girls in the world in my house, I’m a lucky guy!” Jisung cheered, and it was painfully obvious that he was doing his best to suck up to you, and it sucked that it was working so well. It was impossible to stay mad at him. That didn’t mean that you weren’t still slightly upset though. You wanted… No, you needed to talk to him.
///
By the end of the night, which lasted longer than any other night, you were exhausted and the argument from earlier had practically been forgotten, at least for now. Jisoo had opened all of her presents, and, even though you and Jisung had promised her that she could play with them in the morning, she had given her best puppy dog eyes and ended up playing with each of her presents for half an hour each, and of course Jisung had gone overboard in buying her gifts.
“Are you coming to bed?” You asked, standing in the doorframe to the bedroom, looking down the hall and into the living room where Jisung was sitting in the armchair, his face hidden in his hands. “What’s wrong?” You knew he hadn’t fallen asleep that quick, he had just carried Jisoo into her bed after she had fallen asleep in the middle of her brand new toy pile.
“She’s going to remember that I yelled at her, she’s going to remember what I said to her for the rest of her life. Deep down, she’s gonna hate me… And I know that you hate me too. I hate me… I can’t believe I said that to her. I was so focused on the computer and… I flipped out on you. I didn’t even deserve to be here with either of you today after what I did… I’m a shitty father and a horrible husband.” He rubbed his hands over his face when he finally lifted his head and you could tell that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and his nose and his cheeks were blotchy and red.
How long had these thoughts been eating away at him? You wondered if the way he had been acting earlier was actually him sucking up to you or if he was just trying to keep his mind from going to where it was right now. “Ji…” You whispered out his name, and even though you were beyond tired at this point, you couldn’t just go to bed when he was like this. He might have upset Jisoo and pissed you off, but it seemed like he was more angry at himself than both you and Jisoo combined. “Nobody hates you, I could never hate you, and neither could Jisoo. What you did today was fucked up… But I already yelled at you for it, hell, I almost kicked you out for it. But I don’t hate you. I love you too much, and so does your daughter.”
“I hurt her… I made her cry, Y/N. What kind of father am I?”
“You’re the best father a child could ever ask for.” His eyebrows lowered with confusion at your answer, his bottom lip in a seemingly permanent pout as he looked at you. “You made her cry once in her five years of being on this earth. One time, Ji. But you know what you do more than anything else? You make her laugh, you make her smile, you make her feel loved… And you do all of those things for me too. Me and Jisoo are the luckiest girls in the world because we have you.” His pout slowly started to go away, turning into a slight smile as you made your way over to where he was sitting and you dropped down onto his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he nuzzled his face against your back. “Plus, if it makes you feel any better… I’ve made her cry about ten times this week already.”
Jisungs mouth fell open in shock, the entire upper half of his body leaning over so he could look at you. “What?! What did you do to hurt my baby girl?” He asked, and you were sure that right now he was mocking the way you had yelled at him earlier, but you could also see that he was interested in the cause of you making his daughter cry.
“Whenever we go grocery shopping, she asks to go down the toy aisle to look at the toys… And then she ends up wanting everything that she sees, and I have to tell her no. So she cries, and this week especially, I told her that she’ll be getting a whole bunch of new toys, but… You know how she is.” He nodded his head understandingly. “And then… She tells me that whenever she goes shopping with you, that you get her everything she wants.” You turned your head to face him, and now he was wearing a sheepish grin, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. You laughed lightly, squishing his cheeks between your palms and pressing a kiss to his puckered lips. “Do you feel better now?” He nodded quickly, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the living room. “Good, because I’m so tired and I can’t fall asleep without you next to me. Let’s go.”
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