#I’m coming back to this when I need hurt/comfort
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stepdad toji who caught his stepdaughter playing with herself after he came from work
Tags: stepcest! Antis and minors DNI I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume. Eee I’ll probably post a part 2 to this it’s just rlly late rn 😭
“Ughh, Daddy—“ you gasp, knuckle deep in your cunt as tears form in your eyes and you throw your head back. All day, you couldn’t get your stepdad off of your mind, thinking over and over about him ever since this morning.
You don’t know what happened or what he did, but he just… he’s been invading your mind. While your mother and Toji we’re away at work, you laid yourself down on your bed and began rubbing your clit, which eventually led to you sinking in your own digits, and you just went on from there…
Legs twitching, hips bucking, cries falling from your lips. You must have been to caught up in the feeling because your ears miss the sound of the front door to your home opening, they miss the sounds of footsteps downstairs and walking up and down the hall.
A cry escapes your lips, sinking your teeth into your glossy, lower lips. And while the noises fall upon deaf ears, yours are loud and clear on Toji’s, your stepfather.
“Daddy…!” You whimper unexpectedly loudly, and your fingers just aren’t doing the job, they aren’t enough. Toji’s hand wraps around your doorknob and opens the door, and his suspicions are confirmed—his sweet stepdaughter is getting herself off… what an unexpected, yet adorable, not-so-surprise.
“Something wrong, baby?” Toji asks, that mockingly sweet smile playing on his lips as he watches you stop in your movements, your wrist pausing and your jaw dropping.
Immediately, you remove your fingers from your sopping pussy, sitting straight up and covering your thighs with your skirt.
“Um…” you mumble in embarrassment of the situation. Toji laughs and walks towards you after closing your bedroom door.
“You shy?” He grins, “don’t be, princess, ‘s not embarrassing.” Toji sits on the edge of your bed, his hand creeping towards yours. “You just missed daddy, huh?”
Looking down, you pout and nod. “Uh-huh…”
“Aww, my poor baby…” Toji pouts in mock sympathy. “Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me, “daddy, I miss you! Need your cock in me.”” He says in an over exaggerated tone that’s meant to mock yours.
“Stop being mean!” You whine, reaching for his forearm.
“‘M just teasing, sweet girl,” Toji says. He thinks for a moment as his hand absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand. “You want daddy?” Shyly, you nod in response. “Aw, okay, okay, come to daddy.”
It must be the sound of his voice or his comforting words that makes you immediately crawl to him, or he cast a spell upon you.
“Need you in me, daddy!” You huff. Toji, being the caring stepdad he is, reaches up to caress your cheek before his hand falls back down to his lap.
“I know, I know,” he hums, “lay back.” So you do, eager to please and eager for your stepdad to fuck you stupid.
Toji places his hands on your hips and drags your body towards him at the edge of your pink ridden bed.
“Spread open.” And again, you do as he says, lifting up your skirt and spreading your legs. “Sweet baby needs all kinds of prep… you’re way too tiny f’me.”
“Uh-uh, promise ‘m not! I can take it, swear it!” You plead desperately, just ready for your stepdad to stuff you full of his dick and take you raw.
“Mm… no, you’re not, princess,” Toji chuckles. And when you whine yet again, he sighs. “You sure?” You nod. “Baby…. If ‘s too much for you, just tell daddy, ‘Kay? Don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby…”
“Mkay, promise!” And that’s when you see Toji undo the belt of his jeans, followed by his buttons and zipper, along with his briefs. You’re dripping wet, waiting to feel Toji rub his tip against your heat and fill you up with his cock.
It’s only a few strokes before Toji shoves his fat dick inside of your tight cunt, taking you by surprise and eliciting a loud gasp from you.
“Shh, shh, you can take it…” Toji groans, “mama’s gonna be home in a while, so we gotta make this quick, okay? And don’t be too loud, don’t want your mom getting mad at me.” And of course you don’t want your wonderful stepdad getting trouble, so you hum and nod I understanding and agreement.
There’s only a few moments of Toji staying still before he starts gently rocking his hips, a grunt falling from his scarred lips.
“Shit, you’re so—fucking tight…” You’re already clenching around Toji’s cock, his veins sliding against your warm walls from inside. He’s slowly sinking in his length, inch by inch to get you used to his overwhelming size.
“Too big, too big!” You cry. “‘S too much, daddy…!” Toji finds it humorous how just moments ago you were swearing that you could take it, that he wouldn’t be too big, and now you’re whimpering about how it’s too much and too big.
“Hush, baby, I know… You swore you could take it though, no? So just lay back and let daddy do his thing…. Promise you’ll feel super good.” Toji raises his hand and holds up his pinky as a way to pinky promise you. “Just stay still, princess.”
#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji smut#Toji fushiguro x reader smut#Toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro Toji x reader#fushiguro Toji x reader smut#jujutsu Kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut
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♡ - LOST & FOUND - Platonic Arlecchino & reader
i. SUMMARY: Hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them.
ii. CWS & NOTES: description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words.
iv. A/N: i am... so normal about parental arlecchino... so normal... i hope you enjoy because i loved writing this!! i have a little written for an epilogue featuring the lyntwins + freminet reuniting, so stay tuned for that ♡
It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.
Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.
No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.
“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.
He always noticed.
“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.
“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”
“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”
“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.
“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”
“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”
It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.
Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.
“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.
She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”
“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”
“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.
“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.
Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.
As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.
“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.
“Be quick.”
The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.
“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”
Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”
“No? Then why are you still here?”
He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare
“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.
Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”
It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”
Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”
“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.
“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”
“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.
“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”
“But—”
“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.
“Father—”
“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”
Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.
“I—”
“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”
Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.
“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.
“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”
-----
Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.
It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.
One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.
Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.
The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.
Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.
“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.
“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”
“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”
Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.
They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.
The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.
“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”
Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”
Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.
“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”
“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”
Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.
“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”
“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”
The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”
“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.
“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.
“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.
“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.
There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.
“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.
“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”
The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.
“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”
She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.
“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.
They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.
Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.
“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”
“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.
“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.
“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.
“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.
“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”
reblogs are appreciated ♡
#✒️ — writing#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#platonic genshin impact x reader#platonic genshin x reader#platonic x reader#arlecchino x gender neutral reader#arlecchino x gn reader#arlecchino x reader#genshin arlecchino x reader#platonic arlecchino x reader#platonic arlecchino x gn reader
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His world
Idk what to name this one lol also not edited at all
Pairing: Joe burrow x reader
Warning: not eating, mean comments
Word count: 1176
The day started off like any other day. Joe wakes up to the sun shining through the window, then gets ready for practice. After Joe is ready he wakes you up with a good morning kiss, then after a short conversation heads to practice. This was normal, it was the status quo, it was routine.
But the status quo was broken after Joe left for practice, you felt off. You felt like crying, the hate from Joe's fans was really starting to get to you. There have been so many rumors about you and Joe recently. The main three were; cheating allegations, an engagement, and pregnancy. None of which were true, you would never cheat nor would Joe. You and Joe have been together since freshman year of college. Neither of you ever thought of cheating on the other in all the time you've been together. There's no engagement, at least that you knew of. But the pregnancy rumor hurt the most, you knew why it was being thrown around. You had been gaining a little weight, which you were self conscious about.
The comments flowed through your head.
‘She's so ugly! Like gross.’
‘She’s getting really fat, must have had to get pregnant for Joe to stay with her sorry ass.’
‘Joe can do so much better than her’
You felt the tears well up in your eyes.
“What if Joe leaves you?”
With that thought the floodgates were opened. Part of you knew that Joe would never leave you, he loved you with his entire heart. His world literally revolved around you, he didn't know how to do what he loved without you in his life. You two have been part of each other's lives since birth. Robin and (your mom) had been friends since childhood, which forced you to be friends. Joe was the built-in best friend, always there for you, and you were the same for Joe.
The other part of you thought the comments were factual. With you gaining weight you've been having troubles feeling comfortable in your body. It didn’t make you feel ugly just different. You knew Joe could have literally anyone he wanted, he could do better than you.
You try to calm down and take a few breaths coming back to rational.
You walked to your closet and found your oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings to change into. Then sluggishly made your way down the stairs then into the kitchen. Making your way to the fridge, you open it but then the fat comments come to your head. Deciding you would just skip breakfast you close the fridge. You check time seeing it was almost 9 which meant the other WAGs would be calling you soon. As if on cue your phone rings, it was Jess, Sam's fiance.
“Hey, are you coming out with us today?”
“Hey Jess. I think I am going to stay home.”
“You sure? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just not feeling good today.”
“Okay, call us if you need anything.”
“Okay, have fun!”
You said then hung up.
You started to do some house work around the house. You cleaned the entire house, starting in Joe's office and finishing in the basement. When you finished cleaning it was already noon meaning Joe would be home soon. You head to the kitchen to start making lunch for him, deciding to make a chicken caesar salad. You finished plating the food as soon as he walked in the door. He made his way to the kitchen and saw you and moved towards you to give you a kiss.
“Hi, baby. Have you been crying?” his eyes were fixed on your doleful looking face.
“Maybe.” you just shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” as tears weld in your eyes.
“It does! It matters, why are you crying?” he said in a voice the told you he wasn’t going to stop until you told him.
“I’m getting so much hate. People say I'm ugly, fat, and you could do better than me. Which don’t say the last one isn’t true.” You looked down. Joe instantly made you look back up at him by putting his fingers under my chin. Noticing that my hair was messy and all over he moved some of it out of the way.
“Listen to me please, I love you, only you. You are beautiful, I don’t care that you're gaining weight, it means you're healthy.”
Your stomach starts to growl. Joe gives you a sad look.
“When did you eat last?”
“Yesterday”
“When? Cause you barely touched your dinner.”
“Breakfast was the last full meal.”
“You need to eat.”
You sighed but you would do anything for him. He was the love of your life.
“Okay” you said and started walking to the fridge when he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.
“Wait, I'm not done. I’m never going to leave you, never let those comments get to your head.”
He gave you a passionate kiss, then walked away. A few seconds later he comes back with something in his hand.
“This is definitely not how I wanted to do this but.” He spoke getting down onto one knee.
“Joe?” You were shocked.
“Y/n m/n l/n, I can not fathom my life without you in it. You’ve been here since day one, literally day one. You're the only constant thought in my mind. Every Injury, every bad day you’ve been there. You're it for me, it’s always been you. It took us 18 years to finally get together but I knew in middle school when that guy broke your heart. When I saw you crying I wanted to beat him up for hurting you. Now here we are 9 years later, I don’t think I can spend another moment of you not being mine forever. You are my world, my best friend and hopefully soon my Fiancé.” The tears that have been welling in your eyes finally fell.
You nod “yes”
Joe slides the ring onto your finger and stands and gives you a hug and then a kiss.
“I love you Joe”
“I love you too Y/n. I’m going to address the fans about the hate today when I go on ‘New Heights’.”
“Thank you.” You gazed at his face with his beautiful smile plastered upon it.
“How about you come with me?”
“Will Travis and Jason allow that?”
“They will, they’re pretty laid back.”
You nodded and soon you were in joes car with him.
“Welcome to the pod Joe, I hear you got some exciting news” Travis said
“Yeah, as of today I am an engaged man.”
“What, congrats man!” Jason yelled.
“Thanks guys, but I’d also like to address one more thing before we start.”
“Yeah go ahead.”
“So my fiancé has been receiving some pretty brutal hate from some of my fans recently. I just want to say that she is beautiful the way she is, and I love her more than anything in the world. Please stop hating on her.”
Requested by: @funnyjb
Hope you enjoy!
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I Found...
I Found - Amber Run
Megumi x Fem Reader fluff, light angst.
1.k words.
Summary: How do you comfort your best friend after he loses his dog and new friend ? You open your domain and bring back everything he's lost.
“Domain Expansion; Cosmic Graveyard.” Fields of dark lifeless rainbows transformed the body of space around you. Grassy headstones that were mildly unkempt moved the earth to create space in the domain. Megumi reached up to touch what he mistook for a dust particle. “Be careful, I’m not sure who that is.” His empty expression turned to you, dead eyes that didn’t have the energy to spark curiosity or even ask. With cupped hands you caught one of the thousands of small wandering particle that passed gently through the air around them in a way that reminded the dark-haired boy of cherry blossoms in the spring. Except these particles shimmered and glowed like fireflies. “These little dust-like floaters are spirits. Any spirit or curse that I have encountered I can use in here after it passes. I call these little floaters spirit dust, kind of like star dust since that’s really what the top of my domain looks like.” Thoughtfully you covered your hands and released the spirit dust onto the ground as if you were gently placing glass down. “Curse technique; Soul Resurrection.”
The dust swirled into a little white ball of fur that twisted and stretched into a fully grown dog. Megumi let his cold icy expression be replaced with shock and amazement. Standing in front of him, tail wagging and mouth panting, was his white Devine dog. The tips of your fingers grazed the top of the dogs’ head as it observed Megumi drop to his knees. “Come here! Come!” There was no hesitation from the shikigami when it came to following your best friends’ orders. You could honestly say that it was the first time that your domain had ever experienced smiles and breathless laughter, the first time your gift was seen in a positive lens. It was all because of him. Megumi, the cold stoic boy who hid his emotions and would rather tell world to fuck off than ever admit he was hurting was the first person to truly make you see the good in your ability. The higher ups viewed your curse technique as something that needed to be put to an end. You weren’t a curse user, and you certainly weren’t able to fall into the group of shadow/shikigami users.
Your spirits and curses weren’t familiars, and the higher ups were on guard about sorcerers like you since Geto’s defection and even more so after Yuji swallowed Sukuna’s finger. If it hadn’t been for Gojo finding you and convincing them how useful you could be on their side, you would’ve faced your execution years ago. After all being able to summon and bring back beings from the dead was not your everyday ability, watching a seven-year-old summon her dead to play with was not an easy pill to swallow. To say your technique wasn’t for the faint of heart was not an overstatement, you did have the tendency to walk around with undead animals daily. Your subconscious was constantly at work the way Gojo’s infinity was always on. Gojo had taken you under his wing and you were raised side by side with Megumi. So, when that sugar crazed man came to you asking if you could help Megumi after what happened with Yuji and his Devine Dog, how could you possibly say no? Gojo had kept you separated from the other first years, you were already a special grade and there was no need to keep you on easy missions. That’s what he said but you felt there was something much more sinister about the meaning behind ensuring that Sukuna’s vessel never encountered you.
Megumi seemed to be able to read your mind, the words basically written in the air for him to reads.
“Can I see Yuji?”
The four words that ripped you to shreds, it had become clear to you why Gojo didn’t want you to ever encounter Yuji Itadori, the sweet boy that was supposed to be executed just as you were. Your mentor didn’t want to give Sukuna the chance to see you and your curse technique. Megumi already knew the answer. The weight and reality of wishful thinking crashing down on him. You couldn’t bring him back. You had never even gotten a glimpse at the other first year; you only knew what you had been told and that wasn’t enough to resurrect a soul.
“I’m sorry... ‘m so sorry Megumi,” Your best friends' expression broke you. How could you keep it together when he was on the verge of crumbling, the one who you also thought was untouchable. “I’m not allowed to meet him so I can’t show him to you.” The three of you fell into comfortable silence as he finally allowed himself to feel the weight of all his loss. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you had no choice but to tell him now. “Gojo is sending me back across seas tomorrow. I’ll be in China this time.” Laid between you in the grass was a small headstone engraved with foreign writing. The grass in your domain was always softest around the graves, white fur almost completely separating the two of you. “Apparently, he’s found a sorcerer with a similar technique to mine. He doesn’t want me back until the end of October.”
“You’re leaving again… That idiots kept you out of the country as long as Yuta.”
“The perks of being a special grade I guess.” You chuckled but could the burn of his gaze on you. Megumi would miss you, he would never say it, but you knew each time. You did your best to bring back gifts for him depending on where you went. Recently you brought him back a black and white beadwork bracelet from her time in Africa with Miguel and Yuta. The time before you brought him back incense and perfume from her time in Egypt where Gojo had sent you off to learn more about the ancient curse techniques related to your own. You knew his favorite gifts were ones that were mildly cursed however Yaga had banned you from bringing more cursed items back after the canned tuna incident. Everywhere you went no matter how large or small, for your own education or mission; you always brought him something back. “I’ll bring you something back of course.” His dark eyes never left you; he was unsure if could look away and you didn’t want him to.
A/N I think I’ll write more for this piece, oh well. I’ve decided to write more fluff because I like fluff and if you don’t then be like Kevin Heart and MIND YOUR DAMN MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS.
#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#geto suguru#jjk geto#jjk yuta#jjk yuji#nobara kugisaki#yuji itadori#yuta okkotsu#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu nanami#jjk nanami#jjk nobara
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Arlecchino when you’re sick
I want to write for arlecchino so have her pampering u when ure sick.
Y’all I’m like questioning if I wrote this like too nice for her or too mean 😭 my bad. Anyways enjoy
WOWWW I FINALLY LEARNED JOW TO COLOR TEXT AND STUFF. YIPEE
Tags: none
Okay so I write her in 2 ways, one is for relationship like she’s ur gf and the other is like if ure her kid from the hearth just pick one
RELATIONSHIP:
-Arlecchino is always a busy woman, either doing fatui work or taking care of the hearth
The moment she hears you’ve gotten sick (either from you telling her or someone telling someone and so on) she pauses her work and leaves whatever things that are needed to do to lyney (she says it’s “practice for when he becomes king”)
She comes to you to see you in bed, curled up to give you meds and stays in your shared home. She lays next to you and wraps one arm around you.
“…didnt I say to rest?”
She would ask, with a slight scolding tone. Before you could reply, she shushes you “sh..don’t speak, go rest”
She pays her head as she wraps her arm around your shoulder, while doing fatui paperwork with you next to her.
“Sleep”
She basically forces you to sleep and rest. If you don’t, she will pull you closer to her, while humming a tune she would sing to the children of the hearth.
As you slowly fall asleep, she lays the blanket over you and if you’re cold, she will use her pyro vision stuff to warm you up.
The next time you wake up she will NOT be there, instead she leaves a tray of your favorite food next to you and meds with a note of her apologizing and she leaves for fatui stuff.
ARLECCHINO AS YOUR FATHER:
As she hears you’re sick, she would tell the other kids to care for you while she’s not there. She would cancel your missions and let you rest (even 1 week after you’re better to ensure u can do ur best)
Arlecchino asks her kids how you’re doing while she is doing paperwork in her office.
Though at night, while everyone at the hearth is asleep, she visits your room. She sees you asleep and sits on the stool next to you.
“Wake up….”
She says softly, while holding out a thermometer and meds.
“Time for your meds”
She helps you sit up and helps you drink your meds, slowly tucking you back in.
If you tell her something hurts, she would nod and leave the room. Coming back to give you whatever will relieve the pain.
The rest of the night she stays by your side, patting your head.
The next morning, she’s gone without a trace. But she leaves plushies beside you (for comfort) and a note saying
“Rest. Fatui orders.”
#genshin impact#genshin#fluff#headcanons#arlecchino#genshin x reader#arlechinno genshin#arle#father#arlecchino fluff#arle x you#arlecchino x reader
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I had to share a blorbo w you cause I know you’d see my vision OKAY. Whumpee. Magic whumpee.Whumpee, a magic user, is captured and kept unconscious for months via strong bliss inducing sedatives, their magic drained periodically. When discovered by a caretaker, they are frail, unconscious, and when they wake up, disoriented. Caretaker grabs them and runs but whumpee is barely conscious and not used to anything other than the temperature controlled room where everything felt hazy and safe, being jostled and put in the cold
I need someone to understand the horror, of A, delirious whumpee not understanding what’s going on, after being awake for the first time in months. B, withdrawals. C. The feeling of helplessness, shame, and weakness that comes from the experience. Plus the human trophy aspect???
Oh my LORD do I see the vision!!!
I really, really like this idea. A gilded cage, a captivity designed to be as inoffensive as possible. It feels almost more dehumanizing than your more typical captivity because it highlights how little whumpee matters outside of their magic. Whumper doesn’t even care enough to see them suffer.
Speaking of Whumper, I feel like they could be really interesting! What are their feelings towards Whumpee. Why this method?
Was it fear? A whumper who’s equally part in awe and terrified of Whumpee’s power. A whumper who sees whumpee like an exotic animal, equal parts awe-inspiring and deadly. So they use the drugs to contain whumpee, leaving them as harmless as a housecat. Defanged, harmless, safe. It’s only then, with whumpee’s body too burdened with drugs to resist, that Whumper dares to touch their prize.
Or maybe it’s out of devotion. They see whumpee as a god, something to be worshiped and coveted, something worthy of the world’s greatest comforts. And what is a greater comfort than freedom of choice? So they bind whumpee with gentle hands, testing them with the utmost care. Tending to their body with revere, keeping their mind in a blissful unconsciousness. They’re harnessing whumpee’s power as they believe their god would wish it, and whumpee doesn’t have to lift a finger.
Or maybe it’s simple efficiency. It’s just easier, logically. Whumper doesn’t care about whumpee besides their magic, and thus they reduce them to nothing but their magic. Whumpee is a battery for them, not a person. It’s simply easier to keep them drugged and compliant.
I really like thinking about the brief moments where Whumpee’s consciousness is able rise to the surface. The brief flashes of clarity between doses. Whumpee’s eyes focusing for a moment, mind only clear enough to have the vaguest notion that something is wrong. Only aware enough for their eyes to meet Whumper’s and question who they are.
It’s never enough. Their limbs are always too heavy to move, their mind too foggy to make sense of their situation. Their captor too vigilant to allow the light in their eyes to linger before snuffing it out again. Whumper’s always ready with another dose, sending bliss into Whumpee’s veins and dragging them back down.
And the rescue! I gotta tell you, I’m always here for whumpee being disoriented and drugged while being rescued. But I feel like we so often default to a confused terror, with Whumpee believing their rescuer means to harm them. I think the total opposite end of the spectrum is really underexplored!
Just! Caretaker finally finds Whumpee after spending so long searching for them. They expected them to be weak, to be hurt and terrified. They were prepared for it, as much as the thought of someone so powerful being brought so low scared them.
They don’t expect to be greeted with a smile. They don’t expect to find Whumpee blissed out of their mind, babbling nonsense with a grin and nothing behind their eyes. Whumpee barely reacts to Caretaker’s presence, gaze passing through them even as Caretaker grips their shoulders. There’s no recognition in Whumpee’s eyes. No recognition of Caretaker, no recognition of their situation. Nothing, and it makes Caretaker sick.
And I just think it’s so creepy! The contrast between the tense situation and whumpee’s response, whumpee’s sheer inability to recognize what’s happening around them. There’s no tearful reunion, no pleading, nothing that would make sense. Caretaker feels like Whumpee is miles away, even as they press Whumpee to their chest.
When it comes to the recovery, one big point sticking in my head is Whumpee’s emotional response to the whole ordeal. We gotta consider that Whumpee is a powerful magic user. They’re used to protecting others, being the one people ask for help. They likely took pride in it on some level, maybe were even a bit cocky at the power they had at their fingertips.
And now that’s just gone. Now they can’t even stand without help, muscles deteriorated after months of inactivity. They can’t go an entire day without a nap, can’t stop their hands from shaking. The magic that once came so easily to them now burns, their power still exhausted weeks after captivity.
They hate it. They hate how easily controlled they’d been. Mind clear for the first time in months, they can’t help but recall their captivity. Recall all the moments that, if only they’d been stronger, they could’ve escaped. Recall that they hadn’t wanted to escape, how they’d felt nothing but lazy, warm contentment. Tamed and leashed and controlled like some pet monster, and having been happy in their captivity. Whumpee can only look back with disgust.
It’s about the wounded pride! It’s about Whumpee experiencing fear for the first time in years, suddenly feeling so weak and vulnerable after being powerful for so long. It’s about the shame whenever they need help, whenever Caretaker looks at them with worry in their eyes.
It’s about the realization that they’re not untouchable. That it could happen again, and they might not be able to save themselves.
#excuse me while i proceed to be insane about this#whumpee#caretaker#whumper#magical whump#magical whump my beloved#an ask tag#whump#captivity whump
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ooo also would love a minho x reader where they are sort of enemies in the friendship group/ think the other dislikes them and maybe reader needs help/ ends up hurt or drunk and minho comes to help and they realise they didn’t actually hate each other and the group is glad they’ve finally stopped being blind (I think i have an angst obsession)
unfortunately i like you too
pairing: college au!lee know x reader
word count: 3306
genre: not really friends/ rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, unrequited (but not really), hurt to comfort
warnings: description of unintentional self-harm (pressing your fingernails into your palms), alcohol
network: @skzstarnet
request by: @missvanjii
When I first met Lee Minho I thought he was a piece of shit. And that’s just me putting it nicely.
We were placed in a group together in our first year for Introduction to Computer Science.
He was always correcting me with his stupid signature smirk on his stupid face, wearing his stupid glasses, and laughing his stupid laugh while I struggled to retort his reply. In fact, if my stupid body had some backbone and I wasn’t so unfortunately attracted to him, and if I didn’t hate how much I got nervous when he would come from behind me and click my mistakes away, I could easily respond to him.
In that class I also met two of my closest friends now. Felix, another international student and Nayeon, both who had the brightest smiles. After completing our assignment, the four of us unintentionally formed our own little friend group.
At times we meet at a coffee shop not too far from campus to get some work done. It was a perfect day to meet up. With how chilly it’s been, the sun finally showed herself after days of rain.
The quaint coffee shop turned out to be our favourite spot off campus. The simple designs mixed with the smell of coffee were calming factors for us. After coming here almost every week, the owners now know our orders and always have our table ready for us.
Felix and I were the first to arrive. He barely waited til we sat down properly for him to pull out his laptop, plug it in and start typing rapidly. His forehead formed rare lines as his eyes moved rapidly to the screen.
After getting our order, he turned his laptop to me and asked me to see if I could fix his worries.
“Lix, I have no idea what to do to fix that program,” I said.
Felix sighed as he turned his computer back to himself. One could see how stressed he was. His face was wearing a foreign frown as he typed quickly.
“What program?” A voice that I recognized way too easily, said sitting down in front of us.
I glanced up at Minho, we made eye contact and he smiled. I looked away and rolled my eyes at his presence. Since it was just the three of us, Nayeon as usual was late.
The owner brought over his order, he smiled and thanked him while slightly bowing, making his bangs fall onto his glasses. After taking a quick sip of his coffee, he quickly fixed them before asking again,
“So what’s this program you’re talking about?”
“The program for my Analysis of Algorithms class. I’ve been working at it for days and it’s due tonight and I asked Y/N to look at it for me –”
“But Y/N’s more of a UX designer Lix,” Minho interrupted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
He laughed, “Nothing, just that your focus is in UX design, so I wouldn’t be surprised that you wouldn’t know how to fix it,”
I know what Minho said wasn’t inherently bad, but the playfulness in his eyes alongside that stupid ass smirk made me know that he knows he’s pissing me off.
I squinted my eyes at his response and opened my mouth to answer him but Felix interjected.
“This is due tonight. I don’t have time for your bickering back and forth as a badly concealed attempt at flirting,” He groaned, placing his fingers at his temple.
“Felix!”
Minho laughed and took Felix’s laptop and started typing.
“What? It’s true. You do it every time we hang out and I’m too stressed to have that right now,” He pouted, placing his head on my shoulder.
I started to pat his hair and said to Minho,
“Look at what you did to the poor child,”
“Me?!”
Before he could continue, Nayeon finally entered the coffee shop with a smile on her face. She said hi to the owners and waved at us from the counter.
She sat down beside Minho and pulled out her laptop as she said,
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing much, just Y/N and Minho bickering again,” Felix said.
“Oh so the usual,”
Minho snickered at that.
“We do not argue that much. Y’all just lucky I can tolerate his ass,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Careful with rolling your eyes all the time babe, they might fall out,” Minho said looking up at me.
“Ughhh, can you not! Have you finished fixing my program, you’re over here flirting?” Felix groaned again.
My eye twitched, “He was not… flirting,”
Right? He calls me these silly nicknames all the time. And as much as they make my heart speed up a little, it means nothing to him.
Minho turned the laptop back around to Felix, “I’m finished with it Lix. You must have not noticed but you skipped out on a couple lines of code and also had some of them in the wrong places,”
“Have I ever told you I love you? Because I love you,” Felix exclaimed, lifting his head off my shoulder to check his laptop.
Minho laughed at his theatrics but he just had to pipe in, “Also, I wasn’t flirting,”
Nayeon rolled her eyes, “Sure, whatever you say,”
Minho chuckled before opening his own laptop, “Why would I flirt with Y/N?”
“You guys are blowing shit out of proportion. He was just being a dick as usual,” I said.
“Yeah plus, she isn’t my type anyways,” He shrugged.
The air stilled. I stopped typing after hearing his words. Nayeon and Felix locked eyes before simultaneously looking at me. Must be to see how my face might have changed upon hearing his words.
They’ve told me once before that as fierce I might try to present myself on the outside, with the dark makeup and dark clothes, I’m as soft as a cloud on the inside. And sometimes that bleeds through. I’m unable to hide my emotions to protect myself and I get figured out. I don’t think either of them know about my unfortunate crush on Minho. Well, if they do, they haven’t told me.
“That’s a bit much Min,” Nayeon said.
She reached for my hand on the table, gently unclasping my fingers that were pressed so tightly into my palm. I didn’t even notice I was doing it.
Minho looked up and our eyes met when Nayeon spoke. It’s like he felt the shift in the energy. He blinked rapidly, as if he was slowly processing what just happened. One would think he would stop talking at this point.
Wrong.
“Y/N knows not to take me seriously,” He said with a slight smile looking right at me.
My throat closed up. “Right,” I forced out, “Because you don’t take me seriously either,”.
His eyebrows pushed together as if he was surprised at what I said. Or maybe it was how I said it. His eyes latched onto mine. His mouth slightly opened, as if he was searching for what to say.
Felix placed a hand on mine, to comfort me but to warn me to be cautious as well. Now I know I must have been wearing my feelings on my face again.
After I could trust myself to speak, I raised my face and tucked my locs behind my ears. I started packing up my stuff.
“I forgot I had to do something back on campus. I’ll catch up with you guys later,”
Walking out of the coffee shop, I cursed myself over and over again. We do this all the time. We argue, we bicker, we insult. But it wasn’t personal. And the feelings I felt for him that made me so frustrated with myself, never came up.
It’s not like I expect anything to come out of this. A relationship with Minho was the last thing I thought of. But to hear him blatantly say I never even had a chance, hurt. I didn’t even know I wanted one.
The noisy street to the bus stop did not help to drown out my thoughts. In fact with how loud it was inside my brain and outside, I wish something would shut up. I felt enclosed and uncomfortable. Maybe I was wearing too many layers. But it was too cold to go without a jacket. Tears brimmed my eyes and I started pressing my fingernails into my palms again, simply hoping to relieve some frustration.
A hand gently stopped my pressing.
“Lix?”
“Hey,” He said softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave like that. My mind is just so loud right now and God –”
He smiled gently, “You don’t have to apologize Y/N,”. He interlocked his fingers with mine and squeezed my hand as we walked to the stop.
We sat down and waited for the bus to come. The once bright blue skies quickly turned gray under the influence of the month of May.
“It’s okay to feel, you know Y/N? You don’t have to be this tough girl all this time,” He frowned.
“When I do feel, it hurts Lixie,” I placed my head on his shoulder.
He patted my head gently, “I know love, I know. I just wish the both of you would stop arguing and actually realize how you feel”.
“He feels nothing for me. Didn’t you hear what he said?” I said.
Felix only sighed and said nothing else.
The next time our group was together, was at the club on Friday night. Nayeon and I were in the bathroom checking our makeup while the guys got drinks. We both matched in our black little dresses, accenting our figures. My locs were in a high bun with two framing pieces out. I reapplied my liner and lip gloss and glanced over at Nayeon whose light makeup contrasted with my dark one. I smiled at her through the mirror and nudged her.
She caught my smile and began laughing, “We’re literally twins babe,”
I nodded and hugged her, “We are,”
She looked at me a bit more seriously, “You know I love you right Y/N?”
“Of course Nayeonie. I know,”
“Good. I also straightened out Lee Minho after you left,” She said, fixing her hair.
“You did not!”
Maybe I heard her wrong over the blaring loud music.
“I did! I told him that I know y’all argue but that was pushing it,”
“There’s nothing wrong with him not having feelings for me,”
“It’s not that. It’s how he said it,”
I reached over and gave her another hug, “Well either way, thank you for protecting me Nayeonie,”
She hugged me again, “Always, my Y/N. Let’s go dance and get really drunk now!!”
Her smile was devilish.
Walking over to the bar, we saw the boys with our drinks.
Felix handed over mine and said “What were you guys doing in there? Took so damn long!”
I giggled and downed mine, “What happens in the girls bathroom, stays in the girls bathroom,”
“Whatever, let’s go dance.” As he pulled me into the crowd, I locked eyes with Minho.
We haven’t really spoken since the coffee shop. He gave me a small smile and nodded at me, which I returned.
Anyways, I wasn’t here to focus on Minho and my failed attempt at not checking out how good he looked tonight under the flashing lights.
After some time and ten more drinks later, I lost the group. I stumbled out of the crowd and sat at the bar. I reached into my purse for my phone and tried my best to find one of their numbers.
“Hey,” An unfamiliar voice said.
I looked up at the owner of the voice, “Do I know you?”.
He laughed, “No, but you can get to know me. I bought a drink for you,”.
He slid a bright red drink over my way. With the slight consciousness I had, I shook my head.
“No thanks,”
He sat down next to me, “Come on, I’ve been watching you all night and now I’m finally talking to you. Just take the drink at least,”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“Yeah” He said with a smile, “I think you’re cute,”.
I smiled back at him and took the drink in my hand, but before it could even reach my head, a hand snatched it from me.
I looked to see Minho pouring the drink on the ground.
“Yeah, she’s not drinking that,”
“Excuse me? Who are you?” The stranger said standing up.
Minho scoffed and had his stupid signature smirk on his face, “You wanna find out?”
Minho took a step forward, as the guy took a step back, “I didn’t know she was your girl. Sorry about that man,”
The guy then left without sparing another glance at me.
“Do you hate me that much?” I said as Minho turned back around to me.
“Wh-what? Y/N, you were not seriously going to take a drink from a random ass guy,”
“What if I wanted to?!” I stood up and yelled over the music. “Is it so jarring to you that someone actually wants me?”
Tears brimmed at my eyes, “Or do you just want to humiliate me, every chance you get?”
“No Y/N what?” Minho said, startled.
I shook my head and started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the club.
We walked in silence to the nearest convenience store. I didn’t fight or even yelled when we reached outside. He simply just told me ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ and for some reason I listened. I sat down outside on one of the stools. Minho went inside, saying he needed to get something.
You could barely see the stars tonight. What wasn’t covered in clouds was covered by the bright lights of Seoul. Reminds me of how conflicted I felt about Minho. He’s a good person, I know he is. And that makes me wonder how good he would be as a boyfriend. But he doesn’t see me as anything but a friend.
“Drink,” He said, handing it to me.
I struggled with opening it and he took it from me, opened it and then put it at my head.
“What makes you think I would want to humiliate you?” He said when I was finishing drinking, taking a seat right next to me.
God, I could barely focus on his words. He slightly turned his body to me and the white button down shirt with the few buttons open at the top distracting me.
“Y/N?... Babe come on, answer me,” He said, bringing back my attention to his face.
“I don’t know Minho, I don’t know,” I said.
He ran his hands through his hair, “I know what I said in the coffee shop was uncalled for. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push it,”
I shrugged, “Thank you, but I didn’t expect anything else to be honest,”
His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“We don’t really like each other. We don’t necessarily say the kindest things all the time,”
“You think I don’t like you?”
I nodded, “Yeah, I mean… you never proved otherwise,”
“I was just teasing. I thought you were too. I liked annoying you because… I liked getting a reaction from you. I liked knowing what pissed you off and knowing I’m the only one that can get on your nerves in a certain way. I like you Y/N… a lot. And I’m sorry for not paying attention to the weight of my words,”
“You like me? If you’re just saying that to piss me off more Lee Minho I swear,” I rolled my eyes and started to turn away from him.
I couldn’t allow myself to get hurt once more and much worse to show how hurt I was right in front of him.
“No, no” He turned me back around and reached for my hands, “This isn’t a joke, I promise.” He said as he looked right into my eyes as if he would die if he looked away.
“But you said I wasn’t your type,” I said softly.
“That was me deflecting. Felix called me out on my flirting and I felt nervous. I didn’t know what to say, but I shouldn’t have said that and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N”
“Yeah… you shouldn’t have,”
He scratched the back of his head, “Did you really think I didn’t like you? Does that mean you don't like me either?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Damn, and here I thought it was just some freaky foreplay we were doing?”
I slapped his chest, “What?”
“I mean, we were bickering all the time but I just thought it was playful, so I didn’t take it seriously. I just thought that the bickering would eventually lead to a confession,”
Now all those nicknames he called me made sense.
“So, is that what you want? A confession?”
“Is it selfish to say yes? I do really like you Y/N. I was really hoping you’d feel the same way,”
“What do you like about me?” I said.
I looked up at him and gosh my heart was speeding.
“Your creativity. God, the way your brain works is so mesmerizing. Everytime you send a mockup to the group chat, I’m in awe of how creative it is. I like how kind you are. Even though you portray this really tough act, your heart is soft. You’re always trying to help someone out and it’s always with the utmost genuinity. I like your eyes. I like how they tell your emotions so well, especially when you’re trying to hide them.”
“Minho,” I said softly.
“I can go on,”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to, because unfortunately I like you too.”
He laughed. He laughed his stupid laugh. His stupid eyes formed pretty crescents and his stupid head tilted slightly back.
“Why are you laughing at me?” I pouted.
“I’m sorry baby, you just confessed in the cutest way possible. ‘Unfortunately’?” He laughed again.
My face got hot. He looked over at me with a soft smile. His hands cautiously but gently reached for my face and lifted it up for us to meet at eye level.
“Unfortunately, Y/N I can’t let you go after experiencing what it’s like to be close to you. Unfortunately, I can’t see you without the endearment of how adorable you are. And unfortunately that comes with the affection I have for you, waiting to be shown, if you’d let me,”
“Show it,” I said, my voice no higher than a whisper. “Show your stupid affection. Whether that be in the way you tease me or hold me, unfortunately I want you either way as long as you’d let me,”
He blinked a couple times as if he was processing my words. His eyes travelled down to my lips at which I leaned closer. He reached down and pressed his on to mine.
Our group met again at our designated coffee shop. Felix and I were sitting across from each other, discussing the class we just had.
Lee Minho walked in, with a smile, “Hey baby” He leaned down to give me a quick kiss.
When I turned back to Felix, his mouth was wide open. Minho laughed, his cute laugh as Nayeon finally entered.
“What did I miss?” She asked.
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Felix said.
As he tells the shocking discovery of our new found development, loud squeals and giggles could be heard from outside our coffee shop.
I glanced at Minho as he wrapped his arm around me, telling our best friends how this all happened.
You know now that I think of it, he isn’t that bad after all.
a/n:
reblogging helps writers work to be found so please reblog if you liked it!!
i wanna say first i'm so so sorry for taking long with this request! T.T life happened and i started writing it then i hated how it was turning out so i redirected and now honestly i think this is the best fic i've written.
i really do think i've improved in my writing. so thank you for this request! i love when i'm given request because it really forces myself to write within that perimeter so i hope i've fulfilled it :))
my requests are still open so if anyone would want to send anymore feel free!
also i have 15 followers aaaa. i know it might seem small to some but it means a lot to me! honestly my goal isn't numerical but just to have black girls feel seen in the fanfiction especially kpop fanfiction world.
okay i've talked too much now. i have a lot of wips that i'm excited about :)) i'll see u soon ! sending lots of love and happiness y'all's way<3333
#lee know fic#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee minho#skz minho#minho x reader#minho x you#lee know hurt to comfort#lee know angst#lee know fluff#skz fics#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#skz fluff#skz hurt comfort#lee know hurt/comfort#skz angst#minho angst#skz x black reader#z writes#skzstarnet#🎀.missvanjii
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deja vu - b.d.
Bodhi Durran x reader
part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗
words: 2.9k
🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.
“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”
“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing.
“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”
His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.
You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs.
“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”
You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying.
“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”
Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.
“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”
You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.
“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”
You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.
Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.
You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.
You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.
“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.
You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.
He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.
You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.
Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.
You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream.
What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room?
You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.
But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.
It’s just a dream. It’s not real.
But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.
“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Let me see.”
You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.
What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it?
You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.
You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?
“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”
Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.
You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping.
There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.
He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”
“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.”
You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”
Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together. “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”
You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second.
You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them.
Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?
“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”
You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.
The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”
“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”
You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.
“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”
You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.
“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”
You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks.
He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”
“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Good.”
You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.
“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”
“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.
“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.
Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.
Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.
He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”
“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”
He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”
Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.
“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”
“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.”
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You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.
Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?
As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.
Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.
“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.
“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room.
He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.
Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”
He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.
“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”
He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”
“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.
Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.
“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.
You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.
But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history.
Interesting.
You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.
She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.
You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements.
You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.
Very interesting.
A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.
“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”
The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”
There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.
She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.
Silence. Absolute dead silence.
You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”
#bodhi and darling#bodhi durran#bodhi durran x reader#fourth wing#fourth wing x reader#mine#fourth wing fanfic
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Darling I’m All Yours
So this is based on an anonymous request that I got back on February. I’m so sorry it took so long, but it is here now and I hope you enjoy it.
Dick Winters x y/n Warnings: smut, swearing, dominate winters, 18+,
Dick Winters had always been a gentleman man, generally quietly spoken, especially when it came to Y/n. They had been friends before an incident one night had caused them to become closer. Y/n wouldn’t have said they were courting, more like lovers. When Dick needed distraction she was there to provide it, when Y/n had a long day Dick was there to help her relax.
It was a mutual, unspoken agreement that worked for them and despite the lingering gazes and secret touches they never addressed what they felt for each other. They just went through each day as normal and by night they were back in each other's arms, whether that be cuddling in the armchair in Dick’s office or making love in the small one-man cot. It wasn’t the most comfortable but they made do with what they had, and any evening spent with Dick made Y/n forget about any other worries that may have previously preoccupied her mind.
Every stroke was so soft, so loving, that she could barely speak her own name by the end of the night. Dick’s constant worried reassurances and endless questions to ensure he wasn’t hurting her were endearing, if not a little unnecessary at times. Y/n couldn’t even remember how many times she had to assure him that she was enjoying herself. He was in constant fear that she would think he was using her for his own pleasure, when in reality he didn’t even care if he reached his own release, as long as she did.
Only the other night Y/n had woken up alone, wrapped in Dick’s bedsheets. She rolled over, noticing the light in his office seeping through the crack in the door, flooding the room with a yellow glow. Huffing she rolled out of bed, pulling the sheets with her and shuffling over to the office door, peering around it to see Dick, bent over his desk in his skivvies, the muscles over his shoulders tight and knotted.
“Dick, come back to bed,” she mumbled, pressing her lips along the exposed skin of his shoulder blades, feeling the way his flesh rippled, goosebumps appearing beneath her touch.
“I’ll be there in a minute, Love,” he reassured her, pressing his lips below the lobe of her ear, breathing in her familiar scent before falling down into his desk chair with a sigh.
Y/n knew what Dick was like, she could go back to bed and an hour later he’d still be sitting here.
“Not a chance, Dick. Come on, let me give you a little distraction.” She sunk down onto his lap, unwrapping the bedsheets and allowing them to fall to the floor.
Dick smiled, looking at her with utter adoration as he cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her pale flesh and she leant her naked form into him, pressing her hips against his.
A low moan escaped through his lips and he groaned, “You’ll be the death of me.”
That was a week ago now. Dick had been in his office most days, flitting between meetings, mission briefings and briefing his officers that he’d barely managed to find two minutes to spend with Y/n. She understood, she had been busy too with her own work at headquarters but she missed his loving arms wrapping around her, the soft kisses he’d planted on her neck.
She leaned against the wall outside his office, her eyes closed as the warm afternoon sun shone down on her, seeping through her thick uniform. Someone cleared their voice beside her and she cracked open her left eye, noticing two familiar faces.
“Captain Speirs, Lieutenant Lipton,” she nodded at them. Despite her rank only being a Lieutenant the officers of Easy Company never played the rank card, especially not Speirs. She’d warmed to the cold-hearted Captain instantly and they had an understanding.
“Lieutenant Y/l/n,” they both greeted her.
“What brings you over here?” Lipton asked, leaning against the wall beside her with a smile.
“Got these for Major Winters,” she motioned to the two brown envelopes in her hand. That wasn’t the real reason she was over here, but Lipton didn’t need to know that, he just nodded, satisfied with the answer.
“Cigarette,” Speirs offered, pulling the pack of Lucky Strikes from his breast pocket. Lipton and Y/n didn’t hesitate, pulling out a cigarette each. They’d both heard the rumours and knew none of the enlisted men would take cigarettes from Speirs but they had no problem with that. After seeing the way he’d run into Foy with 88mm shells falling at his feet, well you’d just about follow that man anywhere too.
Y/n lit the end of her cigarette, sighing as she exhaled the smoke, “Do you know how long he’s been in that meeting?” She motioned to the office door that led into Dick’s office.
Lipton shook his head but Speirs nodded, “He’s been in there over an hour, don’t know how much longer you’ll have to wait.”
“Well then,” Y/n moved to perch herself on the stone wall, “I could use some company while I wait.”
Dick looked out of his office window, running his hand down his tired face. Supply meetings had never been something that interested Dick but lately he was finding them even more mind-numbing. His eyes scanned over his surroundings, noticing the three figures seated on the stone wall outside. He recognises those long blonde curls anywhere as she throws her head back, laughing at something Speirs had said. He knew that she had friends in Easy Company, she’d spent enough time around Dick’s men over the last year that she knew nearly all of them and he was fine with that, happy even. He just didn’t like the way she seemed so familiar with the Captain, laughing at his jokes like they were old friends.
His hands gripped tightly at the window seal, nails digging into the soft wood beneath his fingers. Something inside him seemed to grow, bubbling up in his chest as his jaw tightened. Was he jealous? No, of course not, they were just friends, and yet…
Dick found his legs carrying him down the hall, throwing open the wooden door and causing the three people to jump, poor Lipton nearly toppled off the wall at the sudden outburst.
Y/n glanced lazily over her shoulder until her eyes found Dick’s and her face softened. A familiar smile spread across her lips.
“Major Winters, Sir. I have some letters for you,” she hopped off the wall, motioning to the brown envelopes in her hand. “I thought you’d never get out of that supply meeting, Sir.”
It always made her chuckle that she had to address him by his rank when she knew him so intimately in his bedsheets. Dick’s whole body stiffened as she reached him, and she couldn’t help raising her eyebrow at his expression.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he took the envelope from her before his eyes found Speirs and Lipton who remained on the wall, cigarettes in their mouths.
“I’ll see you later,” he spoke gruffly, his eyes watching her sternly for a moment before he strolled over to the two officers, falling quickly into conversation about his meeting.
Y/n was a little stunned, she knew who wouldn’t openly kiss her in front of his men but he’d never been this cold before. She could only hope that their meeting later that evening wouldn’t be so cold.
…………………………………………………………………………….
The evening air was chilled, biting at Y/n’s exposed skin as she hurried towards Dick’s office. She was later than normal, having been kept late, alongside Captain Nixon, by Colonel Sink. Her shoes clicked against the cobbled street, echoing loudly through the silent street. She reached the wooden door quickly, undoing the latch and slipping inside, locking the door behind her. She crept up the few wooden steps to the office, tapping her knuckles lightly on the door.
Dick’s mumbled voice came from inside and she pushed open the door, allowing it to swing back on its hinges. Her eyes quickly found Dick, but he wasn’t at his usual spot bent over his desk, instead, he was leaning against his desk, arms folded as he waited for her.
“You’re late,” his voice was rough and Y/n wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Normally he'd stand from his desk and walk over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Instead, his eyes remained trained on her small figure as she shut the door before shrugging off her coat.
She cautiously approached him, “Sorry, Colonel Sink kept Captain Nixon and the other intelligence officers late and I had to stay behind to help. I came as soon as I could.”
Dick nodded, sighing loudly before standing up, using his height to tower over her. He cupped his cheek, tutting under his breath, “You’re just so helpful aren’t you, Sweetheart, always so helpful to everyone.”
“Well, I do try,” Y/n replied, biting her lip nervously as Dick raised his hand, brushing his index finger over her lip. She’s never seen Dick quite like this before and yet that simple action sent a throbbing sensation between her legs. She moved to clamp her thighs together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Dick and he tutted again.
“Already so needy,” he mused, stepping away from her and moving back behind his desk, taking a seat. Y/n watched him in confusion as he bent over his paperwork, his eyes focused on the job at hand. A small whine escaped from her lips and Dick chuckled at her neediness from just one simple touch.
“Too bad that you haven’t been a good girl,” he added, shuffling some of the papers into a pile. “I didn’t realise you were so close with Speirs.” His blue eyes moved to meet hers, his pupils large and dark.
“I’m not, we’re just friends,” she corrected him, leaning across his desk. “Why are you jealous?”
Dick’s hand tightened around the paperwork in his hand, crushing it easily. Y/n enjoyed his reaction but hoped that the reports weren’t important. “I’m not jealous,” he seethed, teeth gritted as he looked up at her, “I was merely making a comment.”
“Of course you were,” Y/n laughed, sauntering away from the desk and into the bedroom adjacent to the office, her hips swaying in her pencil skirt and she knew Dick’s eyes were on her the whole time.
She moved into the room, leaving the door wide open behind her so Dick could see her. She began to remove her clothes, sliding her uniform from her body with ease and leaving her in her bra and underwear. She toed the floor with her foot, stretching her exposed leg out for Dick to see. A shuffling noise from the desk, followed by the sound of the chair scraping back across the wooden floor followed. She knew exactly how to play him.
His large hands quickly wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him, his lips tickling her ear as he spoke, “I may have been a little jealous.” His voice was softer now, more like the Winters that she knew so well, and yet the grip on her waist didn’t falter.
“I can’t help myself,” he nibbled down her neck, “You just have this effect on me. I can’t help myself.” His hands began to slip down her stomach, fumbling along the line of her underwear, a silent ask to which she nodded.
He spun her around guiding her towards the bed. She sunk into the familiar sheets, resting back against his pillow. Dick remained at the end of the bed, undoing the tie from around his neck and throwing it somewhere behind him. Next came his shirt, his hands moving down the buttons tantalizing slowly, taking his time with each one.
Y/n eyes roamed over him, watching his every move with baited breath, her dark irises scanning up and down. She bit her lip nervously as he removed his shirt, pulling the white vest quickly over his head and exposing his pale chest, his muscles flexing.
Dick bent over, pulling quickly at the laces of his jump boots. The seductive undressing from earlier now taking its time and Y/n found herself growing a little impatient. He kicked his boots free, climbing swiftly onto the bed, his cheeks a little flushed and his eyes roaming freely over her exposed frame.
“So perfect,” he mumbled, his index finger drawing lazy circles over her stomach. His lips found their way along her collarbone, kissing gently at the exposed flesh. Y/n’s hands found their way around his neck, tugging at the soft strands of red hair at the base of his neck. His body hovered over hers, filling her with excitement and anticipation. His lips continued their assault, peppering her stomach, breasts, collarbones, and neck with kisses. Dick was taking his time, teasing at her smooth flesh.
Y/n’s heart raced, pounding against her rib cage. She wondered if Dick could hear it as his lips pressed over her heart. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying his attentive affection but she needed him desperately and he was taking far too long.
“Dick,” she whined, gripping his red hair harshly and tugging it roughly. “Please.”
Dick’s head shot up, his pupils were blown, dark eyes boring into her, “Please what?” His tongue ran over his plump lips, causing her to moan.
“Please, I need you,” she whined pathetically, throwing her head back in annoyance against the pillows.
Dick chuckled, moving his hand down until it disappeared beneath the soft fabric of her underwear, “Oh Darling, I’m all yours.”
Y/n wasn’t entirely sure of the order of the next events but between smoldering kisses and rough touches, they were both stripped of their remaining clothes, leaving Dick in just his boxers. She could feel Dick’s hands all over her. There wasn’t a part of her body that his hands didn’t touch and as he worked his fingers between her legs Y/n withered before him, groaning as she gripped the sheets tightly.
She sighed pathetically as her organs washed over her, shaking her body violently and she gasped out, throat constricting as she shuddered beneath him. Dick wrapped his arms around her immediately, pulling her into his chest and rocking her slowly, rubbing his hand over her spine as she convulsed.
As her heart rate slowed and her vision became clear she looked up at Dick, admiring how his red locks fell in sweaty strands over his forehead, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he watched her.
Y/n reached up, smoothing his hair down, “That was” she trailed off, watching as his cheeks blushed a deep red. The dominant man from earlier had disappeared and the soft, familiar, loving man she knew so well sat before her.
He shifted uncomfortably, and Y/n noticed the hard bulge straining against his underwear. She reached out, running her fingers over the clothes bulge and watched as Dick inhaled sharply.
“How about I look after you now, Major,” she whispered against his skin, pressing her lips against his collarbone. Dick chuckled but nodded, drawing her chin up and pressing his lips softly to hers. She always loved Dick’s dominant side but she couldn’t help but love his softer, loving side. That was the Dick Winters she knew and loved.
Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @1waveshortofashipwreck
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Hi Hi! I love you’re writings for Havik, it’s so hard to find any good Havik fics. Could you do Havik with an s/o who’s ex was abusive and they’re use to being bossed around and doing chores for their partner (like cooking, and cleaning for them and waiting for permission to do things)
You Have Freedom
Prior notes: Tbh using Havik is genius ngl. Make me wanna give him a kiss.
Pairing: Havik x Gn reader
Warnings ‼️: Mention of abusive/ toxic relationships, mention of violence, angst with happy ending
Relationship after relationship. It’s amazing that you are still standing. Though mentally you may have gained some issues since people in this world can’t act right.
Some partners never got over their ex. Some partners never took care of their own health. Some partners were just sick in the head and liked to mess with you.
It wasn’t you, you just had some bad luck and ran in the arms of the wrong people. You found comfort in the chaos that you were so used to. It wasn’t your choice it’s just how your brain started to be molded into needing. Your heart wanted something better. You deserved better than this. Not being forced to make a man who barely looks at you to cook him a meal or discourage you from wearing the clothes you want. But how does one break out from the cycle without getting hurt? Well, you might need some outside help.
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Another crumby date with your sleazebag of a boyfriend. He couldn’t even give you a decent date night. Going to the bar and ignoring you to talk to his buddies while flirting with other people in front of you is not a date. But he will gaslight you and tell you so many things.
“You’re crazy, that never happened.” “You’re so insecure this is why I don’t take you out.” “I was buying you drinks the whole time is that not enough attention for you.”
You don’t even like drinking let alone constantly having Jägerbombs which he took for himself. He just wanted an excuse to get drunk that’s why he called this a “date”. You hate when he’s drunk. He gets more irrational and occasionally violent. He’s currently going off about how you are ruining the vibe by sulking. Now he says the clothes that he approved are too slutty while a priest would beg to differ that you are extremely modest. You’re on the verge of crying when suddenly you both hear footsteps coming your way in the dark night. Only a quarter of the moon is showing which makes it harder to see who is coming. Closer and closer these heavy footsteps come your way until what little natural light could be shined shows a man. A very scary looking man.
He’s hunched over yet he still looks taller than you. You could see his head is not aimed towards your direction but your boyfriend’s. Your boyfriend in his drunken state starts yelling and cussing him out when he has done no wrong. You tried to make him stop but he pushed you off of him, almost making you fall while he begin to yell derogatory terms at you. This seemed to displease the other man who came closer and closer until he was right at your boyfriend’s face. When he stood up straight you saw that he was much bigger than your boyfriend. He was tall and seemingly stronger. The moon light finally showed some of his face when you saw the lower half was mangled. You were frozen, unsure of what to do.
Your boyfriend booked it out of there, not even looking back at you. He was horrified and knew he fucked up. You were left alone with this scary looking man.
“Heh, pathetic. I’ve never seen such a weak man before.” He spoke in a gravely voice.
You just stared without saying a word. He began to walk off and you kept looking at him. He sensed you were still staring and turn back.
“What, too afraid to move? Did I scare you that much?” He might have been teasing you but you’re not sure.
“I’m afraid to walk home alone.”
Well that was a shock. You weren’t scared of him but you were scared of being alone. He won’t lie that seemed kinda cute. Your prick of a boyfriend did leave you behind so he felt like you deserved to at least get home safety. He walked back to you, staring down at you with that mangled face, before gesturing you to follow him. You did so without hesitation.
The ball started to roll without you knowing. This was the start of something good. The start of something with a Seidan who calls himself Havik.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Letting Havik into your home after he walked you back was the best decision you’ve made in a while. Though at first you were scared by his scars and his violent attire that didn’t change the fact he was calm with you. That calmness never went away.
Yes, he isn’t the most stable person around. You’ve seen him rip his own arm off to smack someone but that person he was smacking was your ex so it’s okay.
He never told you to stop crying. Even on the walk home you bursted out crying from that whole night. Havik didn’t immediately comfort you but when you were almost done crying he lightly wiped your tears away with his clawed hand. The metal that grazed your face was slightly confronted. And then he proceeded to lick the tears off his hands but let’s just overlook that.
You have felt safe with him around. He’s like a scary guard dog that you see as a protective softie. But in the back of your mind you worried that he would turn on you just like all your other exes. It’s starts with caring about you, than they slowly start to get aggravated and aggressive, then the love bombing starts, and a new vicious cycle starts.
This time is different, I promise.
You first tested him when your friends invited you out. A new club opened and you are still young you just had to go. They thought you were single now so they said you could dress however you wanted. But your concern was if Havik would be okay with it.
When you walked up to him he was sharpening the blade he usually had on his left arm. You swallowed hard as you hoped this wouldn’t turn nasty. You had the clothes you wanted to wear in your hands.
“Havik, my friends asked me if I could go out with them tonight. Am I allowed to go.” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to be yelled at.
“You don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Do you want to go?” He responded so quickly you wondered if he took in what you said.
“Yes, I want to go. And I want to wear this,” you showed him the outfit, “Am I allowed to wear this?”
“Wear what you are comfortable with. If you want to go out with your chest out go ahead, you should be allowed to do that without anyone holding you back.” He grumbled not because of you but that the fact that if you did go out with your chest out you would be shamed.
This wasn’t the usual response for you. Usually it’s a no, why do you need to go out, are you gonna hook up with other guys, stupid incriminating things like that. It’s not that Havik doesn’t care, it’s more like he doesn’t care what you want to do just as long as you are sure you want to do so.
“Did you need me to cook you something before leaving? Does something need to be cleaned?” You were sounding all panicky as if you were being tricked. Like there was a catch and you had to do certain things before you were allowed to leave.
Havik stopped what he was doing and looked at you. For a second you thought you messed up by asking too many things and you ended up annoying him. He got up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards you. You flinched but didn’t run since that usually got you into more trouble before. Once he was right in front of you his hand went up and started petting you at the top of your head. You were calm again. This man in front of you is not like the others in your past.
“Were you looking for an excuse not to go out or are you worried something bad will happen when coming home?” He asked.
“No I just…was making sure,” you seemed almost out of it, “I’m gonna get ready now.”
You walked off and did as you said. You got ready and let your friends know that you would be going out. They were more than happy to hear that news. You checked with Havik one more time if it was alright but just one look at him told you it was alright. Actually wait! He has something to say. He came up to you quickly and you thought this was the moment. Nope, he just ripped his arm off and tried to hand it to you.
“Carry this with you if anyone decides to bother you.” He advised.
“I can’t carry a severed arm around! Are you crazy?!”
Uh duh, he is a little coo coo in the head.
“It’s fine. You can just smack them with it and they’ll be out. You should try it, it’s liberating.” He’s still trying to make you take his arm.
“Havik, no, stop. I’ll go to jail.”
“I will break you out. It is your right to beat someone up if they are bothering you.”
He’s not getting it but the gesture is nice. No Havik, they won’t take the knife either. Clubs don’t allow that.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
This was a big change for you and it was a good change. Your friends saw how happier you were now. They thought it was the single life. No, it was because you started to see that you were finally in a healthy spot in life. You are with a man who lets you know that you have a choice.
The night ended and your friends brought you back home. The house was quiet. When you went all the way up to your bedroom you saw Havik seemingly sleeping in your bed. And of course he was taking up the whole bed.
You started to undress and put on your sleep wear before you heard him speak in a sleepy voice.
“Did you enjoy yourself? Did anyone bother you?” He asked.
“I enjoyed myself and no, no one bothered me luckily.” The tone in your voice portrayed how happy you were which was a nice change.
“I can’t go hunting for someone?” He asked
“You can’t go hunting for someone, no.” You replied
Havik is glad no one bothered you but he did want an excuse to go after someone. Oh well, he’ll just pick at random again.
You slipped into bed with the little space you had on your side. As you were about to ask Havik if he was fine with cuddling you he was already on it. He dragged you in, nuzzling his face against yours as an act of affection. He would give you a kiss but…ya know. But you can still give him a kiss!
You kissed him all over, even the exposed flesh since you didn’t fear it anymore. You were happy to have him in your life now. A man that many would fear but you see as the sweetest guy you have ever dated. Knowing how long it took for you to get this lucky made you cry. It was hard to tell if it was from joy or the fact that it took time before you gained something good. He licked your tears away before he rested his head on top of yours. He squeezed you tight to him, almost giving off a sort of comfort that a weighted blanket would give.
“One day, I will give you a world where you are free to do whatever you want. No one will tell you what to do or what you need to do. You will be free. I’ll set everyone who has been controlled free. If I can’t free everyone, at least I can free you.”
He knew exactly what to say to you. He knows what you’ve been through. Never again. As long as he lives and thrives he won’t let that happen. He opposes control. There is only freedom and love with that freedom. Do what you want, wear what you want, cook what you want, eat what you want, do you boo boo. He will support you. And you will support him with whatever he wants to do.
There is no insecurities, denials, cheating, lies, and manipulation. There is only freedom and love between you and Havik.
Now rest, you’ve had a long eventful day. Your new beginning has started and you are excited to see what will come of this.
Though I advise you keep a towel near your bed. Havik drools in his sleep. Like a lot. Don’t be surprised when you wake up with wet hair, that was him. Sorry, I don’t make the mangled man’s rules.
After notes: Truly I hope no one ever goes through shit like this. It’s not even something like a you should have this experience once type of thing. I hope none of y’all experience what I’ve experienced in past relationships cause it is no joke. But I hope something like this can bring others comfort. Adiós!
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#havik x you#havik x reader#mk havik#mortal kombat havik#havik#angst with a happy ending#angst with comfort
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Would you ever right a piece about birth complications with brock boeser maybe like a premie little babe 🥹
Baby | Brock Boeser x reader
Summary: Brock comforts you as you had just given birth to your baby. Brock and your baby had came out about two months early, he’s just a preemie.
Warnings: none?!
A:N- I’m scared. I got to tired so I hope this kinda flops?!
I was due on the 15 of May. Brock and I’s baby had ended changing plans and popped out the 7th of March. I mean it’s still I nice birthday, in the late hockey season, summer is around the corner, just perfect timing. Only problem is that my baby is a premature child.
Doctor said that he has a very low chance of having normal a healthy life. I’m sure he’ll have a perfectly fine devil outisde but he’ll be in the schools repeating grades, but that doesn’t matter to me.
I’m scared I’ll lose the love of my life. Brock went down to grab me some ice chips, I didn’t want him to hear the news.
“Hey babe.” Brock says walking in with a paper cup of ice. “Eat up.” He hands me the cup and I chop down on them.
We haven’t seen our baby in 17 hours. I gave birth to him about 19 hours ago, but he went straight to the NICU. “I’m sure he’s okay.” Brock comforted me, I think it’s more for himself. Brick starts to pace back and forth across my room.
“I need to pee, help me up.” I say as I reach for a hand. I have my diapers on, they have an ice pack inside and cooking pads. No one told me that eveb having a premature baby is still exhausting. Such a small baby hurts to push out.
“He’s okay.” Brock says finally, no question and no lie. Only confidence.
Brock walks me to the bathroom and locks the door as he walks in with me. He helps me stand up and wipe. Gross.
I’m bleeding literally everywhere.
“How are you holding up?” Brock checks in on me. I’m fine. That’s what I should say but I start crying.
Truthfully, I’m terrified.
“I don’t want to lose him.” I say, I can’t breathe, I fall to the ground. Brock pulls my diaper up and washed mine and his own hands. He picks me up from the ground and tick me in my bed.
My heart rate is really fast. I need water.
“Baby, just look at me. We can always try again. Besides, Cruz will be okay. He’s going to be okay. That’s what the doctor said.” I love the name Cruz. It’s a perfect baby name, and the perfect grown man’s name.
I look into Brock’s blue eyes, and I just stare at the window that points towards the hallway in the hospital. Brock takes my cup of ice that melted and he drinks it. He’s obviously nervous too, so I have to be there for him as well.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, I know he’s not. I mean he’s probating the same I do. “No.” He states, plane and simple. He isn’t okay.
“Did you go watch him on the window? I look into his eyes, and at his overgrown beard, his blonde ashy hair, it’s a mess. I love it that way. It’s so personal that way, so intimate, seeing eachother so tired, exhausted, and a total wreck.
“No, but I’ll head down and take pictures for you.” Brock insists as he hold my hand and kisses it. He walks out and I’m alone.
~
It’s been about a month after Cruz has been born. We all made it out of the hospital but it’s been difficult. Cruz sees the doctor about twice a month, he has special milk, and he’s super fragile. I can’t even hold my own baby.
I know it seems wrong to keep Cruz at home with us, but Brock lives him, and I adore that.
~
It’s been 5 months. Cruz is a healthy and strong baby, but it’s been hard to keep him in his playroom when I’m cooking. He’s to strong.
“He’s so cute.” Brock whimpers as he puts Cruz into his crib. “I love him.” Brock whispers as he takes my hand and pull me onto our room. He sits me down and starts kissing me on my neck down.
“Baby number two?” I laugh out. I hope so.
“Yes. But maybe later.” Brock walks out of our room and come back with a big smile.
“I got you some..” Brock stalls and he opens this big pan of brownies. He knows I love brownies. I’ve been cleaning, nurturing, and cooking all day. I’ve been busy and haven’t had time to relax. This is it. Relaxing with Brock.
“I love you.” Brock nudged me after taking a bite into a brownie. We sit in our bed for hours until Cruz woke up.
#jocelynscrazyideas#hockey#nhl#brock boeser#vancouver canucks#🍇🍇🍇#hockey blurb#nhl fic#brock boeser x reader
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take my hand and I’ll take yours too
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Bestfriend!Reader
WORD COUNT: 4.6k
WARNINGS: fem!reader, friends to lovers, so much mutual pining, more angst than fluff, MAJOR hurt/comfort, graphic character death—through nightmares (no one actually dies)
His breathing is so quiet it makes you think he’s not even breathing at all. The only tell that he’s still here is the slow rise and fall of his chest—something you only noticed once you tried to find it.
Despite being in the safety of Steve’s bed—and him by your side—your fear still keeps you up in the middle of the night. Every time you toss and turn, you’re afraid it’ll wake him up, but you think he’s definitely out like a rock. It would probably take an explosion to wake him up right now.
The two of you had a long day. So did the kids, but being the designated babysitters, you were the ones who had the right to collapse as soon as you got in the house.
After… everything, it’s been a silent agreement between you and Steve that you’d stay with him at his house for the time being. The bed sharing had not been planned, but Steve had insisted. He claimed having someone near helped him sleep better, but you knew he was doing it for you.
He’s not the one with the nightmares.
But tonight it seems, he is.
You didn’t catch it at first; you had rolled away with your back facing him, so the mumbling fell on deaf ears. It was only a matter of seconds later when you heard him sit up out of bed with a fearful gasp and sobs racking his chest. You had turned over in a heartbeat, making eye contact with Steve, and your heart immediately shattering to pieces.
You never want to see that heartbroken look on his face ever again.
“Steve..?” You ask gently. His tears haven’t stopped, the hand that’s gripping your thigh grips tighter, almost like he’s making sure you’re real.
You’re alive.
His movement is slow, but you get the hint pretty quickly. You wrap your arms around him and pull him into your chest, holding him tight against you like you’ll never let go. His own arms had wrapped around your middle, squeezing every couple of seconds. He breathes quick, his chest pounding rapidly against yours, almost making you afraid he’s gonna give himself a heart attack.
“Babe, you’re alright, it’s alright..” you whisper quietly, so not to disturb him. His tears have already stopped, but you can tell he’s still afraid. His eyes close at the feeling of your hand scratching his head.
“You’re okay,” he mumbles softly, digging his head further into your neck. It makes you want to cry.
He doesn’t deserve this.
You give him a couple of extra moments until his breathing has slowed down and he’s not in quite such a panic anymore.
“You wanna talk?” Your voice is soft, making his insides melt at the sound of it. You don’t realize how much you’ve already helped him, you just try to copy what he does for you.
He shakes his head, “I’m okay, really.”
You don’t believe him, but you don’t question him further. You just hold each other in the dark.
The room is silent until he whispers, “You weren’t sleeping were you.”
Your silence is his answer.
…
The kids thinks there’s something wrong with Steve.
Robin knows there’s something wrong with you.
Since they know Robin probably spends the most time with the two of you, they go to her. They aren’t expecting the answer Robin gives them.
“I think..” she groans, “god, I feel so bad for telling you guys this—I think Y/N is having nightmares.”
They’re faces drop open, they’re hearts shattering just a little bit.
“Wait, what?” Dustin asks sadly. He exchanges a glance with Max and Lucas.
“Shit,” Lucas says, “We thought-”
Max shoves him in the shoulder.
Dustin squints at the two of them, obviously knowing what he was going to say, but not wanting to bring it up right now. He looks back to a guilty Robin.
“Steve, too?”
She shrugs, “I’m not sure, Y/N hasn’t said anything about him, but he said hers have been pretty bad. They’ve been staying at his house for the past couple weeks.”
“It’s probably like us,” Max says, “don’t want to sleep alone anymore…”
The other two nod their heads in agreement.
“Look, when Y/N comes in for her shift I’ll ask her how they’ve been doing. I don’t think I’ll get an answer, but I’ll try. ‘Kay?”
They trudge out the door, and Robin sighs. She hopes they don’t tell you she told them.
It’s about a half hour later she hears the chime of the bell indicating a customer. When she looks, it’s you, as expected.
With a lack of better terms, you look horrible.
Your hair looks nice, as always, but you look the most sleep deprived then you ever have. She can see the dark circles under your eyes from a mile away. You give her a tight lipped smile and head to the back to drop your bag off. Robin tenses in preparation.
“Hey, cupcake, how’ve you been?”
She hasn’t seen you in almost two days. Maybe she should’ve tried calling an extra couple of times.
You slide your hands across the front of your shirt and wave, coming up next to her at the desk.
You nod unconvincingly, “Good. You?”
“Good!” She nods with a smile. It’s comforting. But you’re not stupid.
Your fake smile slips from your face and the sadness appears quickly in your eyes.
“You can ask.”
Robin’s facade also slips, and she steps closer to you, dropping a hand on one shoulder.
“I won’t,” she shakes her head, “but you need to talk to me.” You gulp. “You look like shit.”
You laugh, which brings a smile to her face. But the split second of happiness is quickly gone when you remember you have to tell her.
“It’s Steve.”
Robin thinks she already knows.
“Shit,” she huffs, “so now you’re both losing sleep.”
“I don’t know how to help him,” your eyes well with tears, and Robin holds you closer, “he’s so much better a-at helping me when I have them, I-I don’t know how I’m gonna get him through this-”
Robin turns more stern than you’ve ever seen her, “Y/N, this isn’t all on you. I love you guys, but you shitheads are stubborn as hell. You guys need to accept more help. I’ve been at Nancy’s this past week, even Eddie has stopped by and seen the kids. Those kiddos would love to have you guys around again, they’re missing you.”
You wipe your tears, and nod your head in understanding.
“I know..” you mumble. “We just don’t want to scare them.”
“I thinks it’s scaring them even more now that you’re not around.”
You sigh, taking a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“We’ll come by tonight,” you nod, “have all the kids been there?”
“All of ‘em. Jane has been prone to eating more eggos than ever.”
You chuckle at the thought of her.
Robin wants to ask if there’s a reason the two of you have holed up together apart from everyone else, but she thinks better of it. She probably knows why better than you do.
You hope maybe sleeping in the same house as everyone will help you guys a bit, ease your nerves.
“I’ll tell Steve when I get home.”
Robin catches it before you do.
Home.
…
The gravel crunches loudly under the tires of Steve’s car. You get bumped a little bit as he pulls into the Wheeler’s driveway, but it goes unnoticed, you’re a little out of it.
Steve’s been able to tell the whole ride there. His gaze had been glancing between you and the road the whole time.
“You ready?” He grabs your hand, rubbing it softly.
“Yeah,” you reassure, “just… nervous.”
He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.
“What if-” you look to him anxiously.
“We just won’t sleep in the same room as them so one of us doesn’t wake them up. Nancy will understand,” he assures you, “don’t worry.”
You try not to think about it as you pull your hand out of his and swing open the door. As you walk up the pavement, you wonder if the butterflies in your stomach are from nervousness or just him.
The kids are so happy to see you, maybe more so Steve, but you can’t seem to care. Dustin practically knocks him down when he gets two feet inside the door, and Jane is quick to run over and give you a tight hug. Max follows soon after, putting her arms around the both of you in a sweet manner.
“What, have you gone soft on me, Madmax?”
You hear a quiet mumble of never, which makes you giggle and hug the two of them tighter. When they let go, Steve is huffing and puffing to shove the little twerp off of him, and Lucas is pulling at his arm to give him a turn. The other two boys are waiting to greet you patiently.
“Hey, y/n/n,” Mike says softly. Will rushes forward to give you a hug before he pulls away again, but you’re glad you got anything at all.
“Hey Mikey,” you tease, ruffling his hair much to his disappointment while you lean down and give Will a swift kiss on the forehead. “Where’s your sister?”
“In the kitchen with Jonathan. Robin and Eddie aren’t here yet.”
Dustin takes you by surprise when he collides with your backside and squeezes the shit out of you.
“Never leave us again,” he mutters. You twist around and pat him on the head like a puppy.
“We’ve never left you, kiddo,” you tell him softly. You catch Steve’s eye and he’s watching you guys with fondness. Your guys attention gets pulled when you hear loud laughter from the kitchen. Steve walks by your side as you enter the room, catching Nancy in an embrace with her boyfriend.
“Hey lovebirds,” you call. Their heads turn and they give each other a suspicious side eye.
“Hey yourselves,” Nancy says. She giggles and rushes to you. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You too, Nance,” Steve says back.
Before you get a chance to talk to Jonathan, Nancy pulls you into her living room around the corner where you’re out of sight from the others.
“I figured you guys didn’t want to stay in the basement so I got a room ready for you if you want to put your stuff in there.”
“Oh, cool, yeah, that’s fine,” you reply. “I was gonna ask you anyway, I don’t want to bother the kids while they’re sleeping.”
She arches an eyebrow.
“Oh, god- Nance!” You act like your gagging, “seriously?”
“What? You implied it.”
“I did not!”
“Okay, so then what did you mean,” she crosses her arms with a smirk on her face.
You huff, peeking around the corner to make sure no one was listening. “We’ve been… having nightmares lately.”
Her arms drop and she looks at you comfortingly.
“Babe, we have too.”
“You have?”
“Yeah, we all have. It hasn’t been easy. If you guys need anything just let me know, I know how bad they can get. Max had a pretty bad one last night.”
You sigh, “Yeah, so did Steve.”
She lets you go with a soft smile, just in time when Steve rounds the corner.
“Hey, they’re going downstairs if you wanna go,” he says it with a smile.
“Yeah! I’m right behind you.”
During the rest of the evening, you have multiple moments when you realize you haven’t laughed or had this much fun in a long while. The fun had really started when the last two remaining friends of the party had shown up, and finally everyone was in one room again, together. It took you too long to realize how fast these people had become a family to you, and maybe things would have gotten better sooner if you hadn’t pulled away. Everything just feels better, lighter, like you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders and aren’t watching every step you take.
It’s easy to let go when Steve has an arm around your shoulder and Robin sits back in between your legs; when Dustin is trying to shove a warm muffin down Eddie’s throat and Jane has her head laying gently in Will’s lap; when Nancy is tugging back the skirt Mike tried to steal and Lucas is making heart eyes at Max. Even when life feels so hard, it also feels like it’s the easiest thing to get through when you have so many things that can bring joy.
You could tell around 10 o’clock Jane, Will, and Robin were getting pretty tired. The others weren’t, but they knew it was probably best if everyone went down together. Eddie was already zonked out on the couch so Nancy threw a fluffy green blanket over him to keep him comfortable. Jonathan was already leading Jane and Will upstairs to get their pillows when Mike had taken notice and followed quickly behind. Everyone else either had a room upstairs or their sleeping arrangements already made on the floor.
Lucas had sadly, but also willingly, given up his chair bed for Max, which she had thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the kid so flustered.
“Night guys,” Dustin loudly whispers as Nancy shut the lights off.
“Night, Dustin,” you whisper back, much more quietly than he did, but you get a nice toothy grin in return. Steve ruffles his hair before he leads you to the stairs, which gets him a loud complaint and a smack on his calf. Robin squeezes your hand before going off in her own direction, and the boy attached to your side leads you to the room made for the both of you.
It wasn’t exactly a disappointment to find only one bed. For either of you.
“You can use the bathroom first,” he offers, standing with his hands in his pockets at the end of the bed.
“Thanks,” you reply softly, taking your clothes to change into in the bathroom. You try to clean up quickly, but it’s about a half hour later that you emerge and you find Steve, cleaned up, and snuggled in on the right side of the bed.
When he looks at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. But his hair looks freshly cleaned and it doesn’t look like he has a shirt on, so you don’t dwell on it for too long. With the darkness flooded in the room, and the only source of light coming from the bathroom and the moon, you hope he can’t tell how anxious you look.
He can, but he doesn’t mention it. He didn’t want to ruin the comfortable silence that fell upon the two of you. When you came out of the bathroom looking fresh with happiness and a towel on your head, he thought he couldn’t be looking at anything cuter. He just guilty wished the big t-shirt that adorned your torso would just ride up your thighs an inch more so he could see the softness of them.
He tears his eyes away just as you tell him, “I’m glad I don’t have to shove you off my side of the bed tonight.” You flop on your stomach somehow gently onto the bed next to him, scooting yourself up just so your head ghosts over the skin of his thighs underneath the blankets. He wishes he hadn’t gotten under the covers.
You have a shy grin adorning your features when you add, “Sorry I took so long.”
Steve waves it off, “No big deal, I got to steal Robin’s shower. She wasn’t too happy with me, though.” He feels accomplished when it makes you laugh. Your head drops onto his thighs for a moment, and he curses when you lift it far too soon.
It’s quiet again until you lift yourself off the bed to take your towel off. He takes this moment to watch you until you shut the light off and walk back over. You face him when you get under the covers, and he shifts himself so his arm is under his head and he can actually face you too.
He beams when your foot ghosts near his. He boldly reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear, which earns him a slight blush.
“Sleep,” he murmurs.
You shake your head softly, “Not yet.”
Now that his hair looks more dry it flops when he shifts again, and gives you questioning glance. You hate that he looks so pretty.
“What do ya’ wanna talk about then?” He asks.
You shrug. You hope you don’t upset him with what you’re going to ask next.
“What was your nightmare about, Steve?”
He could tell it took you a minute to ask that question. He knows he shouldn’t lie, so he takes a deep breath.
“Us.”
“Us?”
“You.”
Your lips pout, and they look so soft, all he wants to do is rub his thumb over them.
“I scared you?”
“No, honey,” he sighs, “I was scared for you.”
Your mouth makes an ‘o’ shape and you don’t say anything else. You look like you feel bad and he wishes you didn’t.
He continues, “Do you remember.. when we were in that stolen van, and I was telling you about that dream I had?”
You nod. “The six little nuggets.”
He laughs, “Yeah.. that.”
“Do you still wish for that?”
He shrugs, “I think so. Maybe not six, but I think I want a big family.” He takes a moment to add, “I think it’s because I didn’t really have one growing up.”
Your eyes soften incredibly more than they already are and your hand rests on top of his, “I get that.”
He debates telling you the real reason he brought this up, but decides against it. It would be too much.
You can see the conflict in his eyes, and take it for what you think it is.
“You don’t have to tell me about the dream, Stevie.”
His eyes find yours again and he has to fight not to kiss you on the spot. Your voice makes his heart beat so fast he feels it might fly out of his chest into your open hands.
“We didn’t make it out,” he starts. He grabs hold of your hand for comfort. You run your hand over his to keep him going. “I don’t know... if I did, but you didn’t.”
He notices you holding your breath.
“We had just got Eddie, and we were all running, and we were all screaming at each other to keep going, we were almost there. But... I felt your hand slip out of mine and suddenly you were gone,” he clears his throat, “I could see you getting higher in the sky, like three bats had gotten you, and you were screaming my name over and over, and I couldn’t get to you. One minute I was chasing after you and the next...” he blows air out of his mouth, “You were on the ground bleeding. I had you in my arms and you weren’t moving, it didn’t even look like you were breathing. When you woke, you just stared at me, you held my hand, and you comforted me.”
You made sure the small tear that fell out of your eye was quickly wiped away before he could notice it.
“No matter how much I screamed, no matter how many times I told you not to close your eyes, your breathing stopped and your eyes went blank. You were cold in my arms, and suddenly nothing else mattered. I couldn’t move.”
Steve doesn’t realize you’re moving until your head is an inch away from his, and your warm hand was placed on his cheek.
“I’m here,” you say softly. He closes his eyes and tries to push away the memory of the dream, leaning forward that extra inch to touch his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just... stay with me.”
“Okay.”
...
“Steve? Steve!” Your breathing is harsh, you can’t see, and none of the others are around. The others had separated from the two of you; gone on their bikes and rode away to find the gate. It didn’t matter this felt unfamiliar, this was real, it had to be.
Each step you took made a creak on the stairs, causing you to cringe and stop every time, afraid something would dart out of the shadows and take you away before you could locate Steve. You called his name one more time, but again, there was no answer.
Sweat beaded against your brow, and you held your knife closer to your chest. You didn’t risk taking your jacket off to try and lead off some heat, you knew your eyes had to stay sharp. The walls were still covered in the vines you remembered, or whatever they were. They moved and made weird noises that had you catching your breath and looking into the other room.
The floorboards beneath your feet creaked again, but this time, you heard a scream. A loud, painful scream that vibrated through your body, from your head to your toes, and had you perking up, on edge.
That was Steve.
You were running up the rest of the stairs in an instant, almost tripping over your own feet to get to him.
“STEVE! STEVE! I’m here! I’M HERE!” You almost wish you hadn’t turned the corner at the top of the steps.
There, hanging in mid air, was Steve. You didn’t know where Vecna was, but there you could see your boy with his head upturned toward the ceiling, no movements being made.
“Shit, shit, shit, oh my god-” you fumbled around with your jacket to find the tape for him, but it wasn’t in the pocket you left it in. What were you gonna do if you didn’t have his music?
“Steve, baby, hear me. Listen to my voice. Steve!” You couldn’t even reach his feet, he was just too high for you to grab a foot to try and pull him down. When you thought, maybe, just maybe something was working, your greatest horror played out in front of you.
You could barely look as his bones started cracking, the sound filling your ears and making you remember what it felt like to lose the man you loved. He fell to the ground in an instant, making no signs of life.
You dropped to your knees in next to him, not having the ability to stop the uncontrollable sobs that leave your chest in the moments after.
You can see him, there, in the corner of your vision, lingering, waiting.
For you.
“GO! Leave!” You scream at the top your lungs, falling on top of Steve’s body.
“Y/N.” He says. You can’t hear him, you won’t.
“Y/N!” This can’t be it.
“Y/N!” You’re gasping and clawing at anything around you, your tears clouding anything you might be able to see.
“Steve! STEVE!”
You feel arms holding you so tight around your middle, trying to wrangle your arms in the process.
You can’t really tell what you’re doing, you just feel wet tears streaming down your face and a huge pressure on your chest.
“Baby, breath. You need to breath. C’mon.”
That’s... Steve?
Your hands go to your head, trying to cover your ears, but whoever has you won’t have it. You’re trying to get out of their hold, but you don’t really know why. It’s so hard to grasp at anything.
“Y/N, listen to me. It’s me, baby, it’s Steve.”
You take a shuttering breath, and suddenly, you’re no longer in the attic of that house. You’re in a bed, and there’s legs in front of you that aren’t yours. You lean your head back and it hits a chest, you don’t really feel yourself moving anymore.
“That’s it, c’mon, come back to me. You’re okay.”
The voice is so soothing. It’s gentle, it’s comforting, and it’s definitely Steve.
“Steve?” Your voice sounds so broken, so tired, it makes his tears fall faster. The sound of your screaming had woken him up, his fight or flight immediately sending him into over drive. The fear that had flooded through him when he thought something was happening to you, he didn’t know what to think when all of a sudden you started hitting him.
You weren’t awake yet.
You scratched, and you hit, and you clawed at his arms, but he was stronger than you and was able to pin them to your sides. He was able to get you into his lap and hold you tight against his chest, hoping the feeling of his skin and the pressure he was putting on your chest would calm you down. It took a minute but he realized you were finally starting to get a grip when your hands had landed softly on his thighs. The Steve that had left your lips made him hug you tighter. He didn’t dare let go until he knew you weren’t gonna hurt yourself anymore.
The rocking helped, you sort of felt like a baby, but god did it help. You could open your eyes and see your surroundings. Your breathing had finally slowed, and most of the panic was gone.
“Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay, just breathe.”
You held his hands, holding onto them like they were a lifeline. You whimpered when he let go to wipe your tears, and you quickly turned in his hold to look at his face.
Steve knew it was bad but your eyes, they were so red, you looked so wrecked, he knew this one had to have been the worst one you’ve ever had. When you took notice of the marks on his arms, you started crying again.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”
“It’s alright, it’s alright, you didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.” He grabbed your face and started kissing it all over, blocking you from seeing what you had done and hopefully distracting you in the process. When you tried to pull away he didn’t let you, only tugged on you until you fell into him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. One hand cradled the back of your head while the other rubbed up and down soothingly on your back; your whimpers had died down to only a few.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” you repeated it so many times he didn’t know if it would stop.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, baby.”
You slowly started to feel better; you didn’t know how long it had been, but it had to have been awhile before you lifted your head to look at the boy in front of you. You hated how worried he looked.
He must know. He had to.
You told him anyway.
“You died.” He nodded his head and wiped your tears.
“I’m fine.”
“You can’t die, Steve,” You begged firmly. “I wouldn’t survive.”
Maybe it was you, maybe it was him, but both of you knew you needed it and neither one of you was gonna stop it.
The kiss was brutal, all teeth and desperation. There was a fire burning in your chest and now Steve was burning with you. You clung to each other as if some magnetic force was going to try and pull you away from each other. You knew nothing would separate you from him right now, not this instant. He pulled away first, and calmed you down when you tried to chase the trace of his lips.
“Nothing could ever take me away from you, my love,” he whispers.
“Then kiss me like we’re never going to be apart again,” your whisper back is desperate, and he knows it.
You don’t have to tell him again.
#ooH BOY#I’m coming back to this when I need hurt/comfort#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve stranger things#steve harrington angst#stranger things fanfiction
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OH YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST REMEMBERED!!!!!
ok, ok, so Guggenheim Museum attack is where Gwen meets Miguel and Jessica and joins their spider society, right?
well, when watching this movie a second time, i noticed that Miguel gets an alert on his watch-thingy about a ‘Canon Event’ happening! he even tells Jessica to be careful and not disrupt it. and you know what happens after they defeat the (very beautifully, ink animated) Vulture, Gwen reveals herself to her dad.
apparently, according to the little algorithm thing Miguel’s got, Gwen was always meant to be forced into revealing herself to her dad and have this ugly falling out and i just—
I literally sat there in shock (and more tears) during this scene because both Miguel and Jessica were aware (i don’t know how aware or how much about this canon event they knew) and chose to not interfere until the very end.
maybe, i’m wrong tho or maybe i misheard, but it really helps put into perspective that while Jessica and Miguel have empathy and consider themselves to be good people (or the people who have to do what’s right even if it feels wrong), they are steadfast in their goals. they are willing to have a teenager go through that (a forced coming out basically is what they was. Gwen saw no other way to maybe have some kind of talk with her dad even if she didn’t want the reveal to happen like this).
and i’m just….idk i’m not okay
#gwen stacy#spider gwen#atsv#atsv spoilers#spiderman atsv#across the spider verse#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#maybe i got very emotionally affected by this scene because of personal reasons and maybe it ignited more anger towards Miguel but yeah#idk if worded any of that properly#but basically this bit where Miguel and Jessica willingly stay back while Gwen is forced by canon or something to come out to her dad#it like a little intro to the goals and motivations of Miguel and Jessica later in the movie#They see it as a better to hurt a few than the whole multiverse but jfc#i mean….props to Jessica for being willing to take Gwen in after???? for understanding that what Gwen went through was traumatizing#for having that but of empathy and compassion to know that even if what Gwen went through was a ‘canon event’ she needs comfort#like bro#imagine what would have happened if they didn’t take Gwen in????#would her father actually shoot her???? would she have to be given a fucking ‘I’m sorry’ speech while he dies????#would she even last that long as spider woman because of this????#AND RHEN LATER WHEN GWEN MENTIONS TO MILES THAT THE GWENS OF THE UNIVERSE NEVER HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS?????#WAS GWEN IN HER WORLD ALWAYS GOING TO BE A TRAGEDY???????
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I made myself teary-eyed thinking about K and I slow dancing to Elvis music ;-; and how the world is cruel and unforgiving but when we are in each other’s arms we are safe and loved and wanted and cared for and the ache of isolation doesn’t hurt as much because we have each other and and and
#I am on my phone at work so I can’t add my ship tag. wah.#but I associate him with so many Elvis songs because of that split second Elvis is singing can’t help falling in love with you#the scene. w/e you know the one#which is what my ship tag is named after!!!#i just have come to associate so many 60s and 70s love songs with him now bc of that#anyway listening to Love Me Tender and thinking of him holding me close and finding gentle comfort in each other when we are so deeply#hurting.#got me feeling some kind of way#i have to act like I’m not sniffling and weeping while unloading huge trucks#huge black unmarked truck cars as Ken would call them#thank god it’s Sunday it’s always slow on Sundays#let me yearn and weep in pieces. i mean peace. no I mean pieces I’m in shambles here#love notes#when I get internet back I need to remember to add my ship tag to this post#I like keeping everything organized
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despicable
updates as of 22 oct
Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.
“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.
“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”
“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.
“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”
As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.
“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.
“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”
It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.
“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.
“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.
“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.
Total quiet.
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.
“Spencer?” you ask quietly.
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.
“Where are you?”
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”
“Where was I?”
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.
“Still where?”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”
“…What?”
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”
“I annoy people.”
“You don’t annoy me.”
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.
“I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.
“She kind of looked like you.”
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t��� she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Is that why you make all your jokes?”
“What jokes, babe?”
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”
“Spencer, you remember everything.”
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.
You’re happy to.
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.
“Can I come home with you?” he asks.
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”
— —
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”
“So you want three?”
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.
The avocado is making him feel sick.
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”
“I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.”
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said.
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?�� you ask.
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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